“I'm a mindless moron, I'm a mindless moron, I'm a mindless moron...” The refrain kept echoing through my head. I had blitzed the NS400 through a pile of stalled traffic. Taking up the wrong side of the road I had caused a Cavalier coming into the bit of road I wanted to occupy to slam on his brakes. He screamed at me, " You mindless moron.” Several times, at the top of his voice. Leaving him choking on the dense fumes of the wailing three cylinder stroker was my answer.
The refrain would not bounce out my head. In many a way it was all too apt. The NS had this narrow power band that got the juices flowing when you hit on it but was liable to produce ulcers just about everywhere else in the rev range. This was Kawasaki triple territory but without the trauma of having a chassis that threatened to tear apart under you.
The Honda was not the kind of machine to happily potter around town nor to meander down country lanes at 30mph (unless you wanted to scream it in first all the way). Fortunately, there was the kind of kick available that encouraged a wild throttle hand and a mindless moron attitude. It was as if my brain had become completely fixated on experiencing the heady rush of power as many times a day as possible. The bike was only really usable in the higher reaches of the rev range, say 95 to 130mph in top gear. Trying to rev it hard from low revs in a tall gear would just mess up the engine, plugs fouling and speed disappearing.
When the plugs suddenly cleared and the engine hit its power band the front end reared up viciously, felt like it was going to stand on the number-plate. The first few times this happened I forgot all that I was supposed to be doing (or became a mindless moron), dropping down the front wheel at an angle. The resulting wobbles and lurches shook me up more than the exemplary chassis. Not an easy bike to ride.
Because of its power band, much abuse of the clutch was needed, resulting in frequent replacement sets of plates - about every 10000 miles! With such a rev happy engine the gearbox should’ve been super slick. Unfortunately, it's a typical Honda mess, easy to miss changes and occasionally slipping out of gears for no good reason, sending the rev counter swinging rapidly into the red. The engine makes a lovely wail when this happens.
The noise can be tiresome during sustained motorway bashes, though. The Honda’s riding position is a good compromise between high speed cruising comfort and having to sift through town traffic at relatively sane speeds. The plastic is partially protective but amplifies strange ringing noises from the engine and vibrates in tune with the exhaust symphony. The fairing also picks up strong side winds, trying to sweep the machine straight off the road. Similarly, being trapped in the wake of overtaking coaches was like having your head slapped about by a 20 ton gorilla. The answer was simple. Don't let anyone overtake you!
The NS has a certain poise at 90 to 100mph, but thereafter the alloy frame and quite stiff suspension conspire to allow a small amount of weaving. Nothing too serious but enough to give the machine a twitchy feel. Man and machine are also thrown about on bumpy roads, but not off line if you see what I mean.
Such feelings of unease disappear in the tighter corners where the combination of stiff chassis and light weight make it more flickable than many a Jap middleweight. It would take an exceptionally hard ridden YPVS to stay within sight of the NS's tailpipes. Hitting the power in, say, third when banked over will cause the rear tyre to step out a couple of inches in the dry. In the wet I've had the back end come out of line a foot or two. Just snapping off the throttle, a reflex action in fright, brings everything back into line.
Happily, the tyres can be run down to the carcass without the chassis exhibiting any suicidal tendencies, making the rubber last around 7500 miles a set (Pirellis). Unhappily, fuel is drunk as if the stuff was spurting out of a hole in my back yard. And that would be an happy experience! I've had as little as 20mpg out of her on one mad, death defying race to the coast. 25mpg is quite easily achieved, but getting more than 30mpg requires so much restraint you'd be better off buying a C90 and having done with it. Oil is also expensive, top notch stroker stuff going through the engine at the rate of a litre every 200 miles.
There may be some way of adjusting the oil pump, but one look at the complexity of the engine once the GRP was off convinced me to leave well alone. Apart from oil, there isn’t anything else to do by way of routine engine maintenance.
This awful fuel consumption has led to several occasions when the poor dear has run out of juice in the middle of nowhere. I usually pushed the bike (not easy with three discs dragging) until I found a car I could borrow some from - a siphon tube and set of old car keys are essential survival aids.
On one occasion the owner came out and set his Alsatians on me. I shat myself after being hurled on to the ground by these brutes and had to spend hours hanging around casualty being injected and stitched up. I was in no position to lodge a complaint with the plod. After that I strapped a gallon’s worth on the back.
My 1987 example was acquired from a poseur who had only done 5750 miles in two years. Just a weekend toy for him, it was to become my only means of getting to work and having fun in my spare time. In the past two years I've added 32500 miles .to the clock without too much bother on the reliability front.
Main expense has been a new set of discs, as the originals became very thin at 22000 miles (perhaps why pad life is good at over 10000 miles). Calipers have required nothing more than a clean up and bit of Copaslip when doing a pad change. The GRP looks very tatty, has lots of hairline cracks around - the mounting points, the overall finish not enhanced where the black paint has fallen off the exhausts and wheels. The machine is ridden in all kinds of weather right through the year, so perhaps it has a right to its deterioration - when bought she looked as good as new.
Another sign of deterioration was the chain skipping off the sprockets under hard acceleration... I replaced the chain but the same thing happened again, it wasn't until I realised I'd have to replaced the badly hooked sprockets (which were originals at 31715 miles) that the problem went away. The new sprockets were pattern items and are already worn badly. Chains go for around 12 grand which is reasonable given the way I thrash the NS. Heavy on fuel and oil but reasonable on the other consumables (and requiring only minimal expense on clutch plates for the engine), running costs are not as ruinous as a first glance might suggest.
Electrics have been fine, absolutely no problems, not even a blown bulb. The battery is still original! The switches have a loose feel, now, making it difficult to get the indicator button back in its central slot. The horn is pathetically weak but the headlamp is good for fast night riding.
In fact, I love riding the bike in the dark. There is this tremendous feeling of aloofness from everything. and this lovely disembodied wail. I do become carried away with it all, sometimes, shrieking through the night at 120mph when I need to be doing less than half that speed for the fast approaching corner. Braking hard on all three discs pulled off the speed like smacking into a Skoda. The bike entering the corner all twisted up on the brakes but sailing around as if there was nothing to worry about. A really tremendous scratcher when she is on the boil.
They are rare on the road, these little strokers, I only seem to see one every couple of months. They don’t draw crowds like some of the more exotic stuff, but that doesn’t worry me at all. I bought mine cheap and have had loads of value out of the experience. Perhaps, after all, I'm not a mindless moron. I do, though, feel it’s time to trade it for one of the 600 race reptiles. I'm just waiting for the winter so I can obtain a decent deal.
Anon