Motorcycles had always eluded me. Despite years spent tinkering with and preparing racing and rallying cars, I had never ridden a motorcycle. Never, that was, until our summer holiday in 1994, spent on the Greek island of Rhodes. We - my wife and I - hired a little Piaggio Typhoon scooter jobbie for the week and I was converted.
80cc, electric start, automatic clutch. Just twist and go. A spin along the coast road until the sun got too hot then stop at the nearest beach. Park the bike and dive straight into the sea. Idyllic. No helmet, no leathers, no gloves, no hassles. Just me, my lovely wife and the little Piaggio. When it was time to come home, I had to be surgically separated from the bike and vowed that on return to England, a similar machine would be purchased.
At home, however, life returned to normal. Work was still there. Still boring and still taking up too much time. Autumn turned into winter and all of a sudden it was Christmas. I work in the construction industry which closes down for two weeks at that time. Time at last to look for a bike. The only trouble was, no-one advertises at that time of year so the local papers were empty.
Despite meticulous reading of various collected editions of the UMG I couldn't decide what bike was what. In the end, a visit to a breakers brought some ideas, although the breaker tried to make me part with £200 to £300 for various Jap 100-125’s held together by rust and hope. Despite their wrecked appearance they did run and an MOT wasn't impossible. What put me off most was their lack of stature. I'm 6'2” and to perch myself on the wad of congealed sticky tape that purported to be a saddle was to create the effect of riding a child’s bicycle.
My interest, however, was drawn to a black E reg MZ ETZ125 with 13000 miles on the clock that was nestling in the corner minus its head, barrel, piston and various other minor bits. It was on offer for £50. “You don’t want that,” the breaker advised. “You'll be much better off with a Jap.” But my mind was made up. Here was a man’s bike, it looked much more solid. In my naive state I didn’t even bother to haggle over the price. The machine could easily end up on the road for around a hundred notes, thought I. How wrong this was to be.
Cash changed hands, the tank was unbolted and the whole effort loaded into the boot of my Sierra. Two hours later and frustration had set in. No matter how many times I trundled up and down the garden I was unlikely to go much further with only half an engine. Surprisingly, the battery could be charged and all the electrics worked.
After several weeks of tinkering the bullet was bit and I removed and stripped the engine, took it on the first of several visits to Burwins, MZ specialist in Islington, London. Who, for a very reasonable sum, replaced the big-end and supplied the new and used bits to complete the rebuild.
At the end of the day, the total cost to get the bike on the road was £250-300, including the initial purchase and two brand new Metz tyres. On reflection, I could have done it cheaper and got biking quicker by buying a complete bike but, what the hell, at least I knew everything was OK.
At first the bike seemed slow until we realised that the timing was out. Once rectified I was away. I loved it! Racing the bike around all the country lanes close to home was brilliant. Everything felt very secure, the disc brake was very effective and it wasn't long before I was experimenting with leaving the braking as late as possible, leaning into bends and generally having a whale of a time. Apart from a badly dragging clutch, which I couldn't cure. Everything on the bike seemed OK, so next weekend I got MOTd, taxed and became fully road legal.
Everything in the garden was rosy. Except the fact that the bike was too tall and heavy for my wife, who also wanted to take her test. The answer, a second bike. Looking through MCN's classifieds a Honda CB100N was advertised locally, we went along for a casual look. It was in superb condition but high mileage and had been standing for a while. We should have walked away but one look at my wife’s face said that the bike was sold. £225 including a new MOT and the deal was done.
I rode the bike home. Despite seized cables, the machine, and its four stroke motor, was a revelation. Unfortunately, its 6V electrics, shot suspension and Cheng Shins were not. We stuck with it for a couple of weeks but frankly the bike was not up to the MZ’s standard!
The decision was finally made to get rid of it when the vibes caused the pilot jet to fall out on a run into the country. Temporary repair was made with some chewing gum. The bike seemed to run just as well! The local Honda dealer was surprised when informed that we didn’t want to pay the £12 for a replacement jet. Instead a replacement was fabricated by sharpening an old VW Golf needle with the aid of a pencil sharpener. It seemed to work just as well as the original and allowed us to sell the bike at cost.
Its replacement, bike number three, was soon procured. Again, locally through MCN ads. This time we were getting a bit more, bike-wise, my wife the proud owner of a gleaming black Suzuki GS125. Earlier that day, the local dealer had tried to sell us a GN125 as the perfect bike for my wife; the used GS cost a fifth of the GN’s new price.
What a pleasure it was to ride the Suzuki home. My wife's a perfectionist and had soon replaced the chain, sprockets and front tyre, plus a recovered seat. The bike looked perfect, which was a shame as first ride out she discovered that braking and cornering on gravel don’t mix. Fortunately, both she and bike suffered only superficial damage, although I did get told off for riding on for miles oblivious to the fact that she was no longer with me.
Throughout the summer we went increasingly far on our weekend jaunts into the country but it was time to get some lessons and go for a test. Both bikes were totally reliable with the exception of the MZ’s dragging clutch. A nearby local authority ran a free training scheme providing the CBT was done with them, Not surprisingly, the scheme is popular and we had a long wait to get enrolled.
Each Sunday morning for five weeks we went for a two hour session, which was good fun. So much so that we started looking around for a bigger bike capable of carrying us both at once. My wife’s penchant for things Italian meant that we began to look around for a nice Moto Guzzi V50. We viewed several around the country but being in no hurry were able to walk away until the deal was right.
In the end one came up in MCN, about five miles away from where I work. Despite being for sale at the sort of back street dealer common-sense tells you to steer clear of, and in spite of a ripped seat cover and holed silencer, the bike had an aura which felt right. It had apparently been taken in part exchange the previous week for a larger bike but the guy had kept the Guzzi for several years. Overall, the machine needed two new silencers and a good clean, was original with a genuine 24000 miles on the clock.
Having handed over the cash it was time to hit the road. The V-twin sounded gorgeous and the torque reaction of the motor in the frame as I rolled the throttle made me wonder if I would be able to get home in one piece. I waited for a gap in the traffic and snapped open the throttle to move off from the driveway. Next moment I was heading towards the wall on the other side of the road. Fortunately, no one was coming and there was enough time to regain composure, to aim for the nearest side road for a bit of practice.
By then the heavens had opened and it was rush hour, so the journey home through London traffic was a true baptism of fire. In fact, the V50 was a delight to ride. As a step up from the 125 it was wonderful to be able to keep up with the traffic flow and to have enough presence to sit securely in a lane with confidence. By the time we got to the country lanes I was loving it. Despite being soaked through I would’ve kept riding all night, only a lack of licence and insurance restrained my enthusiasm.
Still, my test was booked for two weeks so it wouldn't be long. I failed! I couldn’t believe it! I touched my foot down during the turn in the road, something which at any other time I could have done with both hands tied behind my back, and that was it, a two month wait for a re-test in the new year. But it was worse than that!
Much worse. My wife, who took her test before me, had passed, and I was now relegated to pillion on the Guzzi, which, in fact, was bought for her anyway. The MZ was sold to a chap who was going to use it for despatching. He took it into Burwins, who sorted out the clutch drag, and I hope it’s going strong.
I took and finally passed my test on the GS, which was then sold on to a friend who has done the same CBT/tuition course on it and has his test coming up in the near future. Back to the Guzzi. We go out on it whenever we can. Having converted my brother-in-law to the fold, he usually comes along on his 600 Bandit. We clearly can’t compete, especially two-up, but the little Guzzi holds up well, especially on tight, twisty roads.
On a recent run down to Dorset with the two bikes side by side at a steady 75 to 85mph, the V50 managed significantly better fuel consumption. Averaging out over a week's holiday and about a 1000 miles of mixed riding, mostly two up, at 55 to 60mpg. Not bad for a machine that despite being 18 years old still seems easily capable of achieving the ton. Especially since I discovered that earplugs can dim my built in sensitivity to mechanical noises! All for the cost of the depreciation of a new bike during its first couple of days!
Each of our bikes has been bought on a minimal budget. The CB100 was a mistake but one that fortunately didn’t cost us much. The MZ was a nice solid machine that had a grown up feel that seemed to run and run, provided that the ignition timing was checked on a regular basis. Its biggest drawback was the front disc which seemed too powerful. Fine in the dry but it would lock up in the wet with the mildest provocation. It never worried me but wasn't ideal for impressing the examiner when he walks out in front of you with his clipboard and expects a perfect emergency stop.
The Suzuki GS125 was an excellent bike all round. Despite the high mileage, currently about 35000, and having put up with a succession of learners and all weather commuting, it keeps coming back for more. Its next owner is already booked up for when the current one passes his test. The fuel consumption’s so low that it’s almost embarrassing going into the petrol station to fill up. Engine wear’s evident in the frequent top ups but otherwise a thoroughly excellent bike.
Despite the prejudices of many people the Guzzi is also a fine machine, or maybe we bought wisely or luckily. The parts, not that we have needed many, are easily and cheaply available by mail order. The biggest problem has been that I fiddled with the gear lever and spent ages trying to sort it out, eventually fabricating my own bits after twice snapping the proper part.
We are soon to trip off into Europe on the V50, hopefully I can find a bigger Guzzi so we can have a matching pair - a Le Mans looks a possibility but the new 1100 Sport is a fine looking bike and I am sorely tempted by it. As the man says - reading the Used Motorcycle Guide can develop a strange and irrational interest in motorcycling.
Peter White