The thing emerged from the garage and l was, for once, lost for words. What sort of person would use a CB500T engine as the basis of a trail bike? Huge knobblies, lightweight forks with a tiny SLS wheel, much hacked about frame, alloy guards and a tiny single seat. If it had not had Honda on the tank I would not have known what the hell it was. In style, it was very like those Brit twins of the sixties which for their sins were occasionally shoehorned into lighter frames and running gear, and then let loose on some unfortunate hillside.
The clock, a small custom item, showed 620 miles. The engine had had the top end redone and been blueprinted. So, a virtually new engine not even run in, if the owner was to be believed. On starting up the engine sounded noisy, all sorts of top end rattle. This soon went away as the engine warmed. A test ride showed the bike pulled much better than expected, due no doubt to the vast amount of surplus weight stripped off.
Although the engine and cosmetics were OK, a little tidying was needed, like re-wiring. I also fitted foam grips and rubber mounted various bits and bobs. The vibration eased as the engine was run in, but is still there. The bike also felt a little unstable at low speeds, which I put down to the knobblies. Just after the bike was run in, a dice with an XR2i showed ton plus potential...
Five minutes later I did a lifesaver look before overtaking a parked car and was perturbed when most of the right shock shot past my face at a rather alarming speed. A used pair were scored for a tenner. The newer shocks also had a little more give and the bike became more pleasant to ride. Then the front brake nipple pulled off the cable as I was coasting to a halt. An ornamental flower pot proved to be up to the task of retarding the progress of both self and bike I started to think the machine hated me...
Re-wiring proved to be more of a hassle than I anticipated, as I found some very strange things had been done. Don’t bother with those silly boxes of packaged terminals sold at motoring stores, the stuff in the Maplins electronic catalogue is ridiculously cheap. Also worth a look is Merv's Plastics who advertise in the glossies and MCN.
The Honda's off road capability, or lack of it, has not been seriously tested, although riding it round my landlord's acre of garden proves a fun way of giving the dog a run, and further freaking out of the neighbours, who for some strange reason think I am running a bike and scooter repair business in between restoring rifles. Fear and loathing in Malvern does not really have the same ring to it, does it?
With the exception of a cafe racer Commando and a mildly customised Z650, the 500 is the only seriously modified bike I have used, and it seems to attract lots of looks. Comments vary from hysterical laughter (an off road shop specialising in full bore enduro bikes) to interested admiration (a custom shop). The latter tells me of another flat track styled one, and a hardtail chop with 500T power. Keep slagging them off as it keeps prices down. Never an overly popular bike, I have had trouble getting bits from breakers.
Rubber mounting the single seat proved a very cheap and easy task - l merely hacksawed two old fashioned doorstops of the rubber type and put them between the seat and the frame, protected by penny washers. The vibes were further tamed by fitting foam grips and thick rubber footrests in place of the serrated metal ones.
As the bike put more miles on, vibration faded until it only came in between 70 and 80mph, and then smoothed out again. Having done this speed once on knobblies I did not care to repeat or recommend the experience. It really did feel like riding on ball bearings. A change to a Metz ME33 front and Pirelli Mandrake rear made the Honda far more stable all round, even if it didn't look so good.
Electrical problems continued to plague the bike. When purchased it had the minimum legal and practical necessities. Ignition and charging circuits controlled by an on/off switch and a brake light. A friend advised me to tear the whole lot out and start again. Gawd, I wish I had. However, the bike was needed for commuting at night, a head and tail light would come in useful.
A headlamp was supplied with the bike, so it would seem to have been an easy task. Ho bloody ho. The rear light contained not the conventional twin filament set up, but three pilot bulbs connected together (almost) by solder and supplied by a length of two core mains cable. A small but legal rear light was fitted, a cheapo main dip switch, and we were away... well, not quite.
The switch was not really up to the job and on closer inspection the on/off microswitch fitted to the bike had only a 1.5amp rating. A bracket was made up, the proper ignition switch fitted under the tank and a better quality main/dip switch fitted. Success! For quickness, the connections were crimped with one of those cheapo crimping tools but are gradually being replaced with soldered connections.
A quick aside: when the main beam blew, the replacement bulb only lasted a couple of days... turned out to be a used bulb placed in a new box for which full price was charged!
A pair of mystery misfires occurred. One caused by the horn terminal brushing the down tube. Then there was one on the right-hand pot, which would run perfectly sometimes, or not at all. Once again the advantage of a complete rewire was shown. When I traced the fault to between the points and coil, I found a previous owner had not bothered to replace a knackered bullet connector, but instead elected to build it up with solder. Putting on a proper soldered bullet took less than five minutes and ten pence, very likely less time than his bodge. Laugh, I nearly paid my poll tax.
As I only have a limited amount of time to work on the bike, it is a policy of gradual improvements to the electrics rather than a full strip down and replacement.
The vibes are still there. The perspex number plate disintegrated, to be replaced by a very neat aluminium one The very next day the bike was pulled. Was it the row caused by the velocity stacks and straight through pipes? Doing 50 in a 40mph zone? Having long hair and a happy expression? Nope, the alloy plate was undersize. I am surprised that el fuzzi didn’t point out it was over 15 degrees from the vertical.
In conclusion, I must admit I like this bike. It is often mistaken, due to the sound and styling, for a Brit. I think the mass and performance of the 500T as stock are 430lb, 105-110mph and circa 50mpg. At a guess, I reckon this one must have lost at least 50lbs, probably neater 75lbs. With subsequent improvement in overall go and handling, not to mention looks - the 500T as bog standard makes a CX look (nearly) pretty.
Since the above was written the Honda has put on another 2000 miles. S & Bs have replaced the pretty but useless bellmouths, leading to easier starting from cold and less paranoia about the engine. To my surprise, a plug chop showed the standard jets to be delivering the right mixture. So far they have dealt with bellmouths, a 2-1, the present high level pipes and the S & Bs without a hitch.
A new tail light and number plate assembly has been fitted off some unknown Jap, and a rear seat and pillion rests from an even more obscure source. The servicing is very boring - points and valves were spot on, little or no oil is used and the only problems have been due to some of the custom parts. The forks twisted in the yokes and were set up quickly and cheaply by a local specialist. Also giving a few hassles have been the supports for the custom pipes, as well as the bushes between downpipes and amplifiers... sorry, silencers.
In short, a customised bike can be a pain to get parts for from a dealer. I have been most impressed by the attitude of custom shops, which seem to be run for bikers by bikers. I must confess to having thought about a CB500/XS650/Z750 cafe racer. but the doctor says I will be better in a while...
Bruce Enzer