Many regard the CB72 as the first modern Honda. This 250cc OHC vertical twin wreaked havoc on the market when it was first introduced back in the mid-sixties. Styled in a much more conventional manner than the angular monstrosities that preceded it, it replicated earlier efforts in being oil tight and generally reliable. It was later to be copied in engine style by the big Laverda twins, although the Italian manufacturer was unable to copy the gear primary drive, having to resort to a chain just like the legions of British twins with which the Honda had to compete.
These days, they are quite sought after by collectors on each side of the Atlantic. However, prices have not gone crazy and if you can put up with a few non-standard improvements (figure shocks, exhaust, seat, etc.) a nice runner can be picked up for less than £500. I have seen bikes in bits with a £750 price tag and immaculate ones demanding £2500, but I doubt very much if these prices were ever achieved even in the heady days of the classic boom.
I bought my bike in 1987. Five different owners had tried to wreck the engine and failed dismally. With just under 33000 miles on the clock she still ran as sweet as saccharin. The chassis had taken a bit of a beating, obvious that the bike had been down the road a few times. It was also obvious that no-one had applied much tender loving care. Mine for £275, which I thought reasonable, all things considered.
I rode around on the machine for a while just to make sure that everything was alright. I had already done a compression test so knew that the engine was basically sound. The absence of rattles was doubly reassuring. Riding impressions were that most of the engine’s claimed 24 horses were still there but that the motor needed to be revved hard through the gears to extract them.
The gearchange was dubious, not helped by massive clutch drag after a few seconds in town, making neutral all but impossible to select - except when I wanted to make a rapid first to second change.
90mph was still comfortably within its means but the handling was evil at anything beyond 60mph. Down to a combination of shot bearings, cheapo South East Asian tyres and original suspension that should have been put out to grass several decades ago. I assured myself that the tubular frame was still straight and that with the engine slung below it acting as a stressed member, a few bob spent on bits would sort out the worst of the speed wobbles.
What paint was left on the cycle parts was a dull grey. The chrome was rusted, the alloy gone white and the seat looked like it had been lacerated by a drunken mob of football hooligans. There was nothing for it but to do a quick strip down. I did most of the renovation work myself, having collected various bits of engineering and spray equipment over the years - you can hardly get into my garage for all the essential junk.
The bike ended up BMW white with shining chrome and with the alloy bead-blasted to give a sand cast look. I had some Girling shocks which I modified to fit, some springs off a Bonnie, I think, which replaced the wrecked old ones, some BSA silencers went straight on and I recovered the seat myself, as well as making up new swinging arm bushes.
I proudly wheeled the machine out into the light of a glorious May day. Everything shone, even the tyres which were modern Avons. The bike was persuaded into life on the fifth kick and I was away. Handling was much improved but still not perfect. I think this was down to the combination of the very rigid suspension that I'd fitted, which allowed the bike to be thrown around over bumpy going, and an inherently weak support for the swinging arm, which I could feel flexing.
However, the bike could be buzzed up to an indicated 80mph with none of the horrendous handlebar twitches I'd previously experienced. There were certainly some vibes as the rev counter enchroached on the red zone, but | was to find that unlike on British bikes the vibes did no harm to machine nor rider and could safely be ignored.
A few problems were encountered in the first couple of hundred miles. The electrics went dead because I put the rectifier leads on the wrong way round. This wrecked the battery, the rectifier and the alternator. An expensive mistake. I ended up rewinding the alternator myself, after borrowing a book on the subject from the library, and making up my own rectifier/regulator unit as well as installing a big capacitor in place of the battery (energy discharge ignition). This worked fine as long as you didn’t use the horn at low revs (the indicators have long since gone).
A petrol pipe fell off, the wire I'd used to bind it on cracked. The flow of petrol sizzled on the hot engine until I pulled over and turned the tap off. A lucky escape. Someone came out of their house to see what was going on, claiming to have owned a CB77 in the sixties he was only too happy to proffer some wire.
We had a long chat about how good old Hondas were and at the end of it he wanted to buy my bike for £750. But I declined. Instead, I gave him a lift to the local dealer whilst he was still fired up with enthusiasm. He ended up buying a CBR600! The dealer was not willing to give me any commission, even though he'd paid full retail. It makes you wonder about how they market bikes, I reckon there must be thousands of ex-bikers only waiting for an excuse to get all fired up again!
The back wheel started breaking up. About six spokes went on one trip. It was the excuse I needed to have both wheels rebuilt with alloy rims and stainless steel spokes. The bike was also wearing out the rear chain rapidly, it needed adjusting every 50 miles. I was cursing Honda designers for a while until I had a closer look at the gearbox sprocket - it was running eccentrically.
The mail order supplier sent a new one by return of post but this was also eccentric! Nothing for it to buy a new Honda one three months waiting time. I tried the company a third time and got one that looked OK. Much improved chain maintenance intervals resulted. After these problems the bike seemed to settle down and run reliably for the next few years.
The Dream was not my only machine, so mileage was never very high. I found it a nice bike to run along the nearby country lanes but a bit slow for the motorway and too tiresome in town (with its finicky gearbox and awful clutch). The latter was a pity, for at around 330lbs the CB was certainly light and punchy enough to have been a ball through the traffic - I usually ended up screaming through incredibly narrow gaps, giving it all it was worth in second gear.
With 46000 miles clocked up, the camchain began to rattle ominiously. I decided to replace it immediately, a broken camchain could cause real havoc, but had to wait two months for one to come from Japan. Spares are available, but they are expensive and you have to order them well in advance. As this happened in the winter, I didn't really mind being forced to store the bike away.
I decided I might as well have a proper look in the engine whilst I was at it. I couldn’t believe how good everything looked. The gears, crankshaft and even the camshaft all looked like they were brand new! The pistons and bores were still original and still had plenty of life left. Even the tensioner was OK, it was just the camchain that had stretched beyond its wear limits.
As I knew the bike had been thrashed, I was really amazed by how well the engine had lasted. I put the motor back together with new gaskets and a degree of care. It responded by refusing to start until I'd spent a whole day pushing the thing up and down the back lane. Once fired up, however, she ran fine with no discernible rattles. I have found that she needs her 1000 mile service or the engine goes off tune, refuses to rev beyond 7000rpm and vibrates alarmingly.
Servicing, as was the strip down, is straightforward and takes about an hour. Mileage has now crept up to 54000 miles with no signs of imminent demise. I turn up at occasional classic meetings but the British boys don’t want to know and there are even some Japanese enthusiasts who get uptight at the non-standard bits on my bike. I've even seen one bike fitted with the original lethal Japanese rubber! How stupid can you get?
The Honda CB72 was a fine bike for its day, it’s now outclassed in almost every respect by modern 250s but retains a certain charm and individuality - you can believe that Mr Honda sat down at a drawing board and designed this bike himself. It has that certain flair that creative individuals bring to bear on their work. I wouldn’t pay anywhere near a grand for one, but wouldn’t sell mine for a thousand notes, either. So, work that one out for yourselves!
Eric Golding