Loose Lines [Issue 93, Jun/July '99]

If I ever start mouthing off about the joys of an NSU Quickly moped, circa 1962, will someone please do the decent thing - blow me away (as in gun, dear, don't get excited, now!). If I go as far as saying the best motorcycle Honda ever made was a 1967 Honda CB450 or even a 1969 CD175, feel free to take my kneecaps out. Sorry, but going back to the so-called golden days of one's youth is just an exercise in wistful thinking and futility.

The worst bike (using that term loosely) I ever owned was definitely the NSU Quickly, even if it came equipped with a three speed (twist grip operated) gearbox and a dual seat, both rare back in the early seventies. The highest moment of ownership was rushing across a busy junction at 45mph (as in totally flat out), not looking where I was going, instead peering backwards to see if my mate on a Puch moped was going to take me. I can't recall the model, it was all bright yellow and chrome, similarly geared and equal to the Quickly's dismal performance... though it all felt pretty damn mad back then, especially as the helmet law was a few months away!

Not surprisingly, ten-tenth's operation of the throttle -no other way to go to my sixteen year-old mind - soon seized the mill up. Combined with my own lack of mechanical ability, aided and abetted by so-called expert friends who decreed that the package Kellog's Cornflakes came in was a decent gasket substitute (I'm not making this up!), the NSU never really recovered from that trauma. In the end, I tried to offtoad the rebuilt heap on the village idiot, but even he found something suspicious in the need for a half mile pedalling session before she fired up!

Whilst it was still running, some old codger had come up to me and waxed lyrically about the NSU's abilities. I muttered something about the bike's inherent need to run straight on in corners, giving me even more street credibility in the process - kudos gained from playing chicken with oncoming cagers. Nothing compared to what some other louts got up to on much faster bikes, but nevertheless mildly amusing. The NSU was eventually sold to a breaker, though I should've done the decent thing and put a match in the petrol tank.

Almost as bad was a Triumph Tiger Cub, but I'd bought it cheap on the off-chance of making a minor profit. After doing the electrics, she fired up, vibrated merrily and had handling almost as dire as the NSU. To be honest, it was such an obvious horror that I never really took it far from the back lanes. A quick spray job and clean up, the Cub didn't look half bad in a classic British kind of way. The first ride of note, she stalled dead and needed a long push home! Just the electrics falling apart. The engine vibrated fiercely - knocks, pinging, rattles - you name it - the bike veered to the right with a strange devotion, and I didn't think it would last for ten miles. Still, some enthusiasts of the breed turned up and I sold it at a profit.

Not so lucky with a Triton. Pre-unit Bonnie engine, Slimline frame, clip-ons, the business to my eighteen year-old mind. The problems started when I tried to insure it, no-one wanted to know. The handling was good, the motor an old vibratory horror that spat off non-essential bits. Basically needed stripping right down and a loving rebuild... of course, no chance of that! Old British twins in that kind of state are real bastards. Tried to off-load it too many times but only had silly offers (this was when Tritons weren't considered serious classics), ended up losing half the money I'd paid out for the thing (that equated to about six months worth of Saturday work).

In the end, lessons learnt, experience counts and the next bikes, all Japanese but far from new, were comparative bliss. If a magazine like the UMG had been around then would've avoided the worst of it but I suppose these tribulations are character forming, at least I didn't keep on making the same mistakes (something which can't be said for other areas of my life)!

Bill Fowler

Honda SS125

For the past three decades I've had an on/off relationship with a Honda SS125. A sixties vertical twin shoehorned into a pressed-steel frame. It wasn't quite my first bike. That honour belongs to a Tiger Cub. The least said about which the better! The Honda was a great relief after the British mechanical horror. These days, it wouldn't pass for sophisticated or smooth. Back in the late sixties it was almost state of the art. A marvellously robust engine that revved and revved without any seeming limits. Didn't have much power below 6000rpm. A chassis that was adequate, the tyres more of a limit than anything else. The brakes were good for the time but rather dangerous amongst modem cagers and their mad antics.

I've gone through dozens of bikes but never quite got around to selling the Honda. It buzzed through some atrocious winters. Commuted aggressively when the main bike was too much of a handful or too uncomfortable for such mundane chores. Acted as a stand-in between other bikes. The Honda didn't seem to mind, would start up after being neglected for a few months.

Running costs were mostly an oil change every 800 miles and about 65mpg. Tyres and chains wore out every few years; an amazing contrast with modern tackle. Corrosion more of a problem than engine worries. Ignoring the fact that the gearchange became more false neutrals than working ratios. All of the metalwork has been eaten away by the rust or cracked up from old age. Plastic guards and chainguard were the easiest part. The seat was re-manufactured with a GRP base. The petrol tank replaced with a new one in 1987. Starting to rust through again now! Can tell when they start to go by the reserve refusing to work, its gauze filter at the bottom of the tank all gummed up. Even the frame will rust from the inside out unless rust-proofed every couple of years.

The wheels eventually lost all their chrome. The rims and spokes rusted through fo a dangerous degree. Could almost feel them distorting in heavy bends. Perhaps that was just in my mind. Had them rebuilt with alloy rims and stainless steel spokes. No problems since. A bit of an indulgence but given the machine's loyalty and ruggedness the bike had won a reward.

The exhaust system is another bit of metalwork waiting its chance to disintegrate. The carburation is quite susceptible to holes in the silencers. Flat spots can become a real nightmare. The air filter causes similar problems when all gummed up - better it than the engine. Combine those two, a hell of a messed up power delivery results. The engine always seemed to tun very lean below 6000rpm. After which the power tush cleaned up everything very nicely - on a decent exhaust. Bought two new exhaust systems for the old thing. Both discounted, the only way to clear up the power delivery. Universal cans don't suit the engine at all.

At one point, around the end of the eighties, had a surfeit of electrical problems. Not that the electrical system is up to much. Crap lights and horn, the former very dangerous on unlit country roads. Have to follow a car to see where I'm going. The electrical problems started with the battery dying quickly. Then the rectifier burnt out. After spending a small fortune on replacements an auto-electrician diagnosed that the alternator was breaking down! Used bits off a CD175 worked OK.

SS125 parts are very rare. Luckily, the engine is as it came out of the factory. Not bad for a 42300 miler! Regular 500 mile maintenance sessions helped - carburation, ignition timing, camchain tensioner tweak and valve clearances. About an hour's work once I was used to the engine. Chassis and electrical parts replaced with whatever the breaker has going cheaply if I can't find anything suitable from my own stash.

The bike's still running OE suspension. It wore to an extent during the first 15 000 miles, hasn't got any worse. This is a pretty light bike, no real problem keeping it on line. Top speed's about 75mph. Buzzes a bit too much flat out, I prefer 70mph. That's also a viable cruising speed. Not much left for further acceleration.

Been caught out a number of times when some cager speeds up as I try to get past. Probably mortally offended by the vintage looks of the SS! Had to brake, nip in behind the auto. Loss of face but better than hitting something head-on. No major accidents, just the odd scrape. The bike shrugged off the damage from the slide down the tarmac. A tough little thing that responds well to a good kicking!

Acceleration is better than the restricted 125s, but not from a standing start. The bike needs a few yards to wind itself up, to get some momentum under its wheels. No way I'm going to abuse the clutch or try for a wheelie. The transmission isn't up to it! The other limitation, the knowledge that it's easy to knock the box into a false neutral. Despite this, I haven't yet managed to float the valves. Must try harder. I usually crack along at a good pace in third and fourth gear.

Breakdowns are rare. Had the fuel pipe fall off once. The gearchange lever came loose, making me think the box had finally failed. The thread in the lever stripped but I drilled right through, used a nut and bolt. Poor starting was down to a dead capacitor. Fuel overflowing due to some grit in the float needle's valve.

Nothing major, all easily sussed and fixed. Have to be careful with the bolts in the engine, dead easy to strip a thread if too much pressure's applied. The engine casings look a little rough but I'm sure the internals are fine. The inverse of the situation with old Brits - all superficial shine hiding crap engineering.

Comfort, riding position and ease of riding (except for the gearchange) aren't that far off the levels achieved by modem Honda commuters. But when I leap back on to my modem superbike - Honda CBR600, naturally - it feels incredibly advanced, amazingly powerful and superbly stable. It's almost worth keeping an old Honda just to confirm the progress made by modem bikes. And to save the latter from the rigours of winter commuting!

James Malling

Suzuki TS250

I had to look twice to realise what the vaguely familiar motorcycle was. A Suzuki TS250 trailster, a once popular two-stroke single. Took me right back to my misspent youth, my first proper motorcycle.

The bike wasn't immaculate but it wasn't that far off. An import that had somehow survived a few American owners without collecting more than 10000 miles. The owner came out of the chip shop, giving me a suspicious look until I related how I'd owned one back in the seventies.

At this point, the youth told me that the bike would soon be up for sale and if I was interested an exchange of phone numbers was in order. Before I knew what I was doing, the deed was done... two weeks later the machine was mine for five hundred quid. Either a bargain or a rip-off. It took me a while to decide that the former was the case - just!

My main mount was a street-fighter FZR600, a delightful little hustle both on the open road and in town. Only in the direst Central London traffic were the limits of the Yamaha found... The TS appeared ideal for the really tight stuff, often needing a brief blast on to the pavement or snicking the bike through near impossible ninety degree turns. The chassis was almost up to the job, only let down by the drum front brake which gave every appearance of being vintage in its effectiveness. It was just as well that the bike was easy to twist on to anew line; dangerous moments got very little help from the front brake!

I pulled the wheel out, expecting the shoes to be down to the rivets but they were only half worn. A carcinogenic level of asbestos dust fell out when I pulled the thing apart. Reassembling the wheel, a black moment when I realised there was a little play in the wheel bearings. At city speeds it had yet to affect the handling, but only a matter of time. Cheap enough to do, if you're willing to take a big hammer to the casting and use sealed-for-life bearings form the local factor.

With the bike back together, the front brake was marginally improved but still a heart stopper, especially in contrast to the ultra powerful twin discs fitted to the FZR. I had to make a conscious decision when I swapped bikes not to use the kind of force required by the TS on the FZR - otherwise it would've just thrown me right over the bars! Strangely enough, I soon became used to the Suzuki's lack of braking and compensated by ramming the thing through ever smaller gaps.

The engine always needed a few thousand revs, would bog down and oil the plug if used just off tickover. No great loss as there was sod all power right at the lower end but once 3000rpm were up it began to move. Not crazy fast but about as good as a Superdream up to 60mph, which was about all the motor was willing to give. More would've been available had the trail based gearing been swapped for a taller set of cogs but that would have made the acceleration unacceptably slow. As it was, the bike had trouble putting 250 MZ’s in their proper place even though it could turn quicker through the traffic gaps.

I didn't exactly scream the engine at maximum revs everywhere but neither did I loiter with sensible intent. Thus fuel consumption around 45mpg wasn't unexpected. On the plus side, comfort was excellent, it made enough of a yowl to alert cagers and peds to my impending presence (very important given the state of the brakes) and it ran reliably for the next 6000, or so, miles. Needed a new spark plug every 500 miles - it would last for longer but the twenty kicks needed to start the motor proved tiresome.

Very definite limits were found on the open road. As mentioned, it didn't want to do more than 60mph, meaning most cagers tried to run me down! The suspension, original as far as I could tell, was very soggy, letting the machine waggle around all over the place. The brakes went on holiday after the first urgent 60mph stop, making for some interesting survival manoeuvres. I remember having a hell of a time bashing the bike around the back roads when I was but a youth, but it now seemed no longer up to the job. Odd! Maybe the motor was as worn as the suspension.

Given the chance to sell the bike for what I paid for it, I was quite happy to see it go to a new home. Nostalgia sucks? Not sure about that, just bought a BSA B44 thumper - never owned one before but my neighbour did when I was but a youth, always lusted after one. Another story.

Fred D.

Honda CB500T

What to make of the Honda CB500T that lay in the back of the garage? The clock read a reasonable 18000 miles but the chassis was blurred by surface corrosion.

The thing laid up for over four years. Of course, it would not start. The owner reckoned that one winter morning it had refused to fire and he'd given up after buying a new battery. The vertical twin had such a bad reputation that I wasn't too keen. He wanted a hundred notes for the wreck, I thought it would be a kindness to take it away for free. Reluctantly, I agreed to thirty quid if he would deliver the sod.

I told the wife it had cost a tenner! I knew she would be despondent to find yet another tatty motorcycle taking up space in the garage. She would often go into a rant about all the time I wasted messing about in the workshop. Her idea of an evening's fun and games, Coronation Street followed by a good drama. Once a week was about all I could stand of an evening's TV.

So I wasn't unhappy to find myself fighting the engine's sump bolt into submission. Its rounded off comers meant the only way of extracting it was with a chisel and hammer. As in its complete destruction. Did my knees no good at all, on the damp garage ground. A huge collection of spares from past misdeeds (my own and various friends) meant I had a replacement to hand with a bit of digging. The sludge that fell out of the engine didn't look too good but it was free of any actual engine debris.

Fresh oil added, the engine kicked over several times to get it circulating nicely. The 'new' battery had decomposed over the years, its acid weakening the bracketry. A working battery was attached with some jump-leads. No spark. The points were all gummed up. Disassembled them, cleaned everything up and then spent a pleasant hour figuring out how to set the ignition timing. Right, we have a spark.

But no running engine. Two possible problems came to mind - decayed rubber manifolds between carbs and inlet ports or the carb diaphragms gone west. The latter were much easier to check, both cracked. There are various solutions to this, ranging from cutting down items meant for autos to fixing with Superglue. No-one in their right mind would bother asking a Honda dealer about the cost of replacements. Decided to go the Superglue route, see if it worked OK.

Now we were in business. Nope, the engine didn't burst into glorious life but it did make some promising noises. New spark plugs - very odd grade and size, too - finally did the trick. I hadn't a clue what to expect from the DOHC vertical twin motor but guessed that the loud tapping noise coming from the top end wasn't a design feature. Carefully tweaked the camchain tensioner but no difference.

That just left the valve clearances, for which I would need a manual. Damn, more expense. In one of those cosmic coincidences, John Menzies was having a sale of bargain books which included an Haynes manual for the CB450/500T. I snapped that.up for a fiver and set to work on the curious top end. Conventional valve springs replaced with torsion bars, the clearances set by rotating an eccentric shaft on which sat the rockers. This would've been easy enough hadn't the clearances been really tiny - the existing ones were huge in comparison giving me the hope of an easy cure.

After about six hours of swearing I'd finally set everything up perfectly. At this point the engine was very reluctant to catch. I'd somehow snagged the one-into-two throttle cable, the motor not wanting to fire with the carbs half open. The plugs were oiled up and I had to fit a second set - I was quite pleased that I'd bought two sets in a fit of pessimism. Finally, the engine caught and quickly settled down to a 700rpm tickover. I was amazed at how quiet the motor sounded (not the non-standard 2-1 exhaust). Once warmed up it revved away with no hesitation. Only the minor fact that the battery was sitting on the workbench stopped me leaping aboard for a test ride.

Not that the chassis was in any state to withstand the Honda's forty-odd horses. My stash of spares was raided for newish tyres, a silencer with some semblance of baffling, chain and new brake fluid for the front disc.

After a bit of heavy work with the hammer I managed to fit the battery into the minimal space provided (I hit the brackets not the battery!). No lights, no horn, no tax disc, no insurance... the test ride was a very brief blast around the housing estate. The wife went into a tirade about annoying the neighbours with the unholy racket. Ten minutes later, a plod Metro took a turn of the area, obviously hoping to catch some juvenile delinquent.

About a week later I was all legal. I'd even found a proper silencer. I'd also cleared off all the corrosion, touched up the paint where necessary and had an ardent polishing session - didn't look half bad. Now for a proper test ride. No problems below 6000rpm, rumbled along just like a Triumph 500 Tiger, but try to whack open the throttle, left the motor gasping for breath. In second it would finally catch at about 7500rpm and scream around to 10000 revs but the big flat spot was extremely annoying.

I reverted to the 2-1 exhaust that accompanied the bike - a real ear basher! The bike spluttered below 6000 revs, caught and accelerated off up the road at a pace that had me seeing double. Leaving a trail of destruction - sonic boom didn't come into it! Reverting to the previous set-up, I cleaned out the air-filter at the local garage, though god knows what the attendant thought I was doing with his air-hose. Better, but not perfect, the flat spot reduced to 6200-7000rpm. A couple of holes in the air filter, the bike only had a slight hesitation at 6500rpm, made the power punch appear all the more violent.

Given its reputation, I wasn't expecting much but the 500T had more urge between 75 and 100mph than most of the old British 650's I'd owned. Even managed to smooth out, almost magically. The pistons move up and down alternatively, reducing the vibration to mostly low rev rumbling. The bike topped out at the ton-ten and was a happy cruiser at 85mph. Not bad going for an old relic that originally looked like it was corroded to death. If you weren't used to old Jap gearboxes, mind, then death might also be conjured - if not of the rider, at least of the engine spitting fire at exorbitant revs due to the false neutral. An acquired art!

None of these speeds were tried until some much needed suspension and braking mods were done. Basically, the suspension and front disc were totally worn out. I just happened to have an old BSA A65 front end to hand, complete with excellent TLS drum brake. A used pair of Girling shocks went on as if made for the job. The front yokes were reluctant to mate with the steering head but I managed to use the old yokes, plus some washers, with the BSA’s forks.

In all probability, the steering geometry was subtly altered but compared with the loose mush of the worn stuff I thought I was on a brand new bike. The TLS drum needed much effort to pull the 420lbs up but at least worked in a predictable manner. It wasn't as good as an old Triumph or BSA twin, didn't really have that stuck on rails feel. But it wasn't anywhere near dangerous. With its Velocette inspired tank and saddle, the bike looked every inch a classic motorcycle from the fifties or sixties.

I kept the bike a mere three weeks. But only because some gent had the kindness to offer me 1500 notes! He wanted a British bike but couldn't take all the hassle. He obviously didn't know about the CB500T's mechanical history but we were both happy. Even wifey managed a smirk!

Charles Delroy

Laverda Jota

A cheap Jota, 54000 miles on the clock, 1650 notes for a quick sale. My mates called it the Joka. The first hard ride, massive clutch slip above 6000 revs! Vibrated, snarled and revelled in highway life - and that was just me! Handling was quaint, felt like it wanted to topple over every time I tried for a fast corner, the thin tyres snaking and squealing in protest! An expensive clutch rebuild allowed it to top out at 140mph - bloody frightening and left me deaf for a couple of days! Revving out of the bends, it'd run wide and wild - cagers contorted with heart attacks. Gave off the impression of being one solid lump with hardly any suspension movement. My back soon screamed in protest!

57000 miles, a lot of the power disappeared. Smoke on the overrun soon became smoke all the time!
Pistons or valves, or both. Too expensive to dump on the dealer, really did my back in digging the motor out of the frame. Felt heavy enough to be made out of solid lead. Two exhaust valves and their seats were fried!

The camchain was loose enough to make a Honda owner envious! Secondhand Jota spares hard to find but eventually tracked them down via MCN. Some fun and games later, she was back to terrifying the ped's and cagers.

61500 miles, half the gears went AWOL. The box had always been a bit of a boot shredder. The bike was still rideable but it meant massive mistreatment of the clutch, itself likely to explode. At this point I got lucky, a whole rotted and crashed Jota was up for offer in the local rag. He wanted an extravagant 750 notes, ended up breaking it. Complete gearbox internals for fifty quid! I now had the problem of fitting the damn things, gearboxes way beyond my abilities.

A car mechanic friend was out of work and was thus deemed ideal. He kept muttering that they didn't make Ford Escort engines like this! Probably just as well. The reassembled motor had the weirdest gearbox I'd ever come across - needed a really hefty boot to work the lever yet it made so much noise there must've been loads of clearance between the threshing parts. It worked after a fashion, in character with the rest of the machine!

62700 miles, the rear subframe rusted through! Crap Wop metal. It went from the inside out, the first I knew about it when I bounced up and down on the seat one sunny morning. The kind of day perfectly made for motorcycling. Only I was wondering why the seat height had been reduced to twenty inches. Unbelievable! There followed a couple of weeks searching for a replacement frame. I figured if part of it had gone that far then the rest couldn't be far behind. A frame procured, all the parts swapped over - meaning I found out it needed a new wiring harness and battery. The former fell apart in my hands - I was lucky the bike hadn't gone up in flames.

Dead on 65000 miles the bottom end started knocking. Oops, knew I should've changed the oil sooner. It was the mildest of intrusions at low revs and cleared up under the thunderous roar of the rusted through exhaust. Music to my ears, not that there was that much hearing left! Thicker oil was deemed the high-tech answer, which made the clutch even more amusing! Plenty of on-the-road kicks, but I was always aware that it might blow up at any moment! Hand hovered over the clutch and I never gave the motor full welly.

I was quite impressed by the toughness of the motor, it gave another 2700 miles before the main bearings knocked so loudly it was like a mate's newish Urinal thingie. Performance had taken a hit. At this point, the chassis needed new bearings, tyres, brake pads, chain, etc and there were signs of rust breaking out under all the paint. Its mileage and twelve owners had run the poor old thing into the ground. So the Jota was ready for the grave - but there are mad enthusiasts out there, offloaded the monster for 1250 quid! Happy days again, courtesy of a 1200 Bandit.

L.G.W.

Femme Fatalities

Having been into bikes for almost twenty years, I fall into the age bracket that took the old 250cc one part test. At that time I owned a BSA Starfire complete with white banana seat, ape hangers and mega - and I still passed my test first go! The bike ran OK for about 4 years (only had to bump start it about twice a month) and then the problematic timing got the better of it. As first bikes go, I quite liked it, until it stopped running, that is.

However, the combination of moving abroad and then to Brighton meant that it got neglected, left outside my parents' house for a couple of years. It eventually got transported down to Brighton, but it never really ran right again, despite several attempts to rectify the timing problem. Anyway, one day in the pub a kid offered me the same as I paid for it and I bid it an happy farewell.

I acquired a Z200 for £5 from a farmer who'd neglected it in his chicken shed - the tank was bashed in, it had wooden side-panels and needed a good clean, but for £5 what can you say?

After moving back to the Midlands, a 250 Superdream tank was acquired and resprayed, which stopped It looking so puny. This was more of a hack and only really got used for short journeys and on one occasion for the Brum demo. However, when the top end started knocking I decided to give it the elbow, got £100 for it from a kid who'd recently passed his test, not a bad profit.

Next, after seeing a telly programme on the Enfield India, I decided I had to have one. It was about a year before I had enough money to buy one. Used examples were hard to come by and I ended up getting it from a bloke in Devon and trailering it back home. I got the 350 version, which was a heavy old single, with kickstart and up-side-down gearing.

All of this and the brakes (or lack of them) made for interesting riding. As my bike was usually the donkey, so that the other half could pose on his chop, this increased the lack of braking. | managed to get 85mph out of it - down a hill with the wind behind me! The combination of difficult starting, heaviness and lack of braking meant it had to go, especially after I missed running into the back of a mate's Harley by a gnat’s willy.

Next buy was a Honda CB250RS, the complete opposite weight-wise to the Enfield. The main reason for buying this bike, it was an excellent condition, low mileage bargain and I knew some of its history. I rode this to a few rallies and even managed to get the long distance female award at a couple. I never really liked the lightness of this bike, which made you vulnerable in the wind. I let it go after a particularly frightening tank-slapper on the M23 thanks to a lorry passing too close.

The money went into the business and efforts were concentrated on converting a Z750 twin (picked up as a box of bits for £30) into a low-rider. Then life got in the way, the business failed, hubby lost the plot and wanted to start a family. So, one divorce and a new partner later, the Z is now much nearer completion. As anyone will know who's tried to build a bike from the ground up, it takes a lot of time and money, plus frustration trying to source missing parts from breakers. There are the good guys and there are the bad ones who'll sell you anything or who can't be bothered.

Anyway, him indoors, whilst cooking the Xmas dinner (ha! ha!) decided he would buy me a new bike. I've now got an FZX700 Fazer, which I’m well pleased with. An import, bought from American Imports in Norfolk (highly recommended). They are low, easy to ride and the brakes work! - they have to as most car drivers seem to have had lobotomies. I’ve done two long trips already this year in the wind and rain - muddy fields and hangovers don’t mix on a Sunday morning - so I'm hoping for a brilliant summer.

JF

Triumph T595

I didn't actually buy a T595 but several of my friends did. My first experience of the beast was on the back of one of the early models, just run in, the owner doing a bit of speed testing. Pillion riding is actually quite a good location for testing out machines - squirming back wheels and excessive engine vibration more noticeable. The big problem with the triple was staying on the machine, the blast of power and torque produced really heavy acceleration that would've had me sitting on the tarmac if I hadn't grabbed the rider in a bearhug! Pretty embarrassing as we both consider ourselves macho bikers!

The Triumph accelerated so fast that inevitably no sooner was a highly illegal speed gained than it had to be lost! The triple discs so powerful that I kept banging my crash helmet into the back of the owner's. If he was in a really bad mood I'd end up yo-yoing back and forth under the mad acceleration and retardation. Impressions of the triple were of a firm, stable ride, gorgeous exhaust noise, quite vibratory but not in a destructive way and mind bendingly fast!

Quite a few pillion rides followed. About six months down the line he was ready to move on to another machine and I admitted to some interest in buying the bike, stories of alloy frame break-ups not withstanding. A long weekend of testing followed. My own bike was an XS650, so the differences between the two machines, and their on the road speeds, were huge! But the T595 wasn't a difficult bike to ride, just one on which I had to be very careful how I played with the throttle and the sensitive triple discs. The riding position was radical to my own tastes, but after a couple of hours I became used to it.

Blasting the bike through my favourite A-roads, I was continually amazed at what I could get away with! Not just speed, but how far I could bank the Triumph over and how late I could brake. Such was the ferocity of the latter, that I'm sure similar forces on the XS650 would've broken the headstock off! The exhaust wail was almost as exhilarating as the outright acceleration. A couple of times I messed up the corners but the T595 was able to pull me out of trouble - I did have a lot of hassle working out if the fat, sticky Metz’s had any limits or not. A whole new world...

The other side of the coin was about 30mpg and, according to the owner, back tyres that lasted for less than 2500 miles - all that triple torque. After a day's riding of around 450 miles, I had great difficulty standing upright - the bike was so exciting to ride that I didn't really notice any pain until the day was at an end! The wife reckoned I would soon have a hunchback. I would still have gone for the bike, save that the wife was giving me death glances. Sex or the Triumph? Guess which won.

Many months later, another mate was selling his 1595 and I had the chance to get acquainted again. The wife was in a better mood, the price under five grand for a twelve thousand miler, and a large amount of dosh in the bank from me doing the overtime blues. This one had had some igniter problems, fixed under warranty but it still felt a rather disgruntled beast below 5000 revs. I was told to give it a bit of throttle to keep the mill running cleanly. In the meantime, the XS had been replaced by a GPz550, so I was at least in the right sporting frame of mind.

I broke through the 150mph barrier for the first time, and think I saw God in the mirrors... no, it was probably just the distortion! An absolute buzz to blast about on a sunny day but a bit of rain on the road had me half scared to death about laying down an excessive amount of the awesome torque, trundling along at slower speeds than the GPz could manage. The same is true for all the Jap hyperbikes, but in real world conditions something like a GPz550 is more than fast enough.

I thought about the deal long and hard. The temptation to buy something really outrageous like the T595 was very high, but the more I thought about it the more I inclined towards keeping the GPz and spending the dosh on along, long holiday. The wife wasn't too happy until I said she could have half the money to go on her dream holiday on her own. So the next few months I'm off on an adventure on a thoroughly old fashioned motorcycle but it has all that I need and its frugality will add up to more than twice the distance covered if I'd done it on the Triumph (not to mention relative armchair comfort) for the same money spent on fuel, consumables, servicing, etc. Worth thinking about, eh?

But I think I might record the Triumph's wail and play it back through my Walkman, it has to be the best sounding motorcycle in the world!

Dave Osborne

Honda CB750

I was looking for a sensible motor, yet one that would have the legs on in for some serious touring.

Definitely Japanese, most probably four cylinders and at least 500cc. That left a long list of potential machinery, the Kawasaki GT550 the leading contender.

After looking at several ex-despatch hacks I began to give up on that idea, when what should pop up in the local rag than a Honda CB750 Seven-Fifty. The owner sounded both honest and mature over the phone, the bike promising - 19000 miles with a full service history and mostly summer touring use. The guy even agreed to ride over to my house to show me what was what. Without much effort I convinced myself that the bike was what I wanted and for a very reasonable sum I became its second owner.

Honda make ferocious fours but this wasn't one of them. Even compared with its predecessor and inspiration, the CBX750, the CB750 was about as mild and friendly as you could make an air-cooled, DOHC four cylinder motorcycle. I don't think you'd find another machine of this size and weight that's so natural and easy to ride. The previous owner had upgraded the suspension, fitted Avon tyres and flatter bars, an effort that probably improved the bike somewhat over standard.

But the engine was as the factory intended and dead easy to ride, whether on the mildest of throttle openings or giving it some gas, though there wasn't much point extending the motor far beyond 9000 revs as by then the power had dissipated. Even the gear change, a notoriously weak area in other Hondas, was as smooth and slick as most Suzukis - the previous owner had gone on at length about how much time and effort he'd put into running the bike in, an exercise that paid off both in the gearchange and the way the mill ran generally.

Handling was what you would expect of this kind of UJM. Felt a bit top heavy at first but stability was good and not an excessive amount of effort was needed on the bars. After a week, the feeling of having too much mass mounted too high faded away and the whole machine became second nature. Handling was generally neutral, gradual backing off of the throttle or braking in bends failed to throw the chassis off line.

Indeed, after about three weeks the usual inconsiderate cager tried to knock me off by charging out of aside street - with amazingly fast reactions on my part, I managed to wrench the Honda around his back bumper without the bike showing any signs of stress. I felt both elated and frightened at the same time, the poor old heart hammering away. The front brake didn't have the kind of mad stopping power that would, alternatively, get me out of desperate trouble.

The miles fair flew by. About 55mpg, tyres lasted around 6000 miles, the O-ring chain was amazingly resilient and the engine needed nothing more than oil/ filter changes. Long tours - the most I did in a day, 920 miles! - revealed that the seat needed a bit more padding and that a bad patch of secondary vibes at 80mph made 90mph a more pleasant cruising speed, officer! I didn't do much above the ton, fearing for my licence in our quaint police state. There was loads more power on tap for those who don't give a damn, though the discomfort of a naked bike began to rudely intrude as the ton was approached. All pretty much what I'd expected.

After about seven months I began to run out of luck. Several near misses, when cars came out of nowhere and tried to kill me, followed my a major accident. I began to wonder if I was losing my mind! A busy London junction, the lights changed to green, charged forwards only to find some criminally insane nutters dancing through the junction in a big Ford, which caught my front wheel. Sending bike and rider flying in different directions. My world went horizontal and then painful as I had a fighting match with a bored postbox!

When I came back to consciousness, I found that half the car drivers in London were playing tunes on their horns, whilst the front half of the CB was no longer attached to the rest of the bike. I eventually found it embedded in the underside of a black cab, whose driver was suitably enraged. Of the original Ford there was neither sight nor sound, and no-one believed my tale. Some ped stepped forward, claiming I tried to wheelie the venerable Honda!

The result of all that madness was a ticket for dangerous riding, a written off Honda that the insurance company is reluctant to pay up on... oh, forgot to mention that some kind soul slammed on his brakes to avoid mowing me down, causing several expensive cars to pile into each other. The total damage coming to more than my house is worth.

The insurance company did let me have what was left of the Honda, the mangled steering head and broken engine cases making for some desperate pleading with the usual round of motley breakers, but I will have it ready for the road soon. Meanwhile, been frightening myself silly on a C90 but haven't caused another major accident yet, though I suspect it's only a matter of time.

KL

Kawasaki Z650

Some bikes are just like some of the women I've known in the past - right bitches! The Kawasaki Z650, one of the first models to hit the UK, was as far gone as some ancient Soho hooker, though it could still get its motor running despite 120,000 plus miles under its wheels.

Ride it too hard and fast, though, it'd try to throw you right off the back. The rust had bitten so deep that the sides of the petrol tank threatened to cave in and a gentle tap would've turned the silencers into dust. A rolling rust-trap just about summed it up.

The motor had been rebuilt at least twice, few of its components as old as the mileage indicated on the clock. Nevertheless it smoked and rattled a little, under the ferocious roar of the rusted through four into two exhaust system. The only thing the bike had going for it, really, was the 200 quid asking price. So I bought it.

So far was the advance of the rust that I immediately set about stripping the machine down to the frame. The high point of this exercise in futility was finally, with a large bang, extracting the banana shaped swinging arm. Someone advertising in MCN had on offer newish exhaust system, tank, panels and guards from an abandoned restoration project - a hundred quid's worth, but these would make all the difference to the final restoration.

The rest was down to new cables, bearings, wiring and switches, pads, tyres, repainting of frame, wheels and a multitude of minor bits, new chain and sprocket set, and anything else that needed doing. Took a couple of winter months to sort it all out, almost preferable to riding the beast. The engine was given a valve check, carb balance, fresh oil and filter, the external alloy shined up and a fresh set of spark plugs inserted.

After clearing up a few minor electrical hassles, I was ready for a test ride. All went well for the first few minutes then the front brake failed! The bleed nipple had fallen out, ruined thread. Fortunately there was enough engine braking and retardation from the rear brake to stop me at the junction. Even with a bodged in bolt where the nipple sat, it was still evident that the calipers really needed a complete rebuild or replacement.

A major hassle involved in stripping the calipers down, corroded solid in the usual way of old Jap alloy. So far gone that I found it easier to hit the breakers. No Z650 bits around, at least none in a better state than my already ruined stuff, but a twin disc GT750 front end was found for seventy quid, complete with a newish Japlop tyre. This fitted on with suspicious ease and nearly threw me over the bars the first time I tried the brakes!

It was all more or less together. Looked almost like it'd had just stepped out of the crate. Ran after a fashion. Not much wrong with the handling or braking but the engine wasn't exactly powerful - both excessive in secondary vibes and lacking in power at the top end of the rev range. The bars and pegs actually felt like they were breaking up as I charged the bike through the red-line in second and third. Third to fourth often ended up in a false neutral, the engine doing about 15000 revs. The gear change's slackness was easily the worst part of the aged motor.

The best cruising speed was around 85mph, secondary vibration at its mildest. Oddly, perhaps because of the relatively new carbs (only about 40000 miles old!), fuel didn't match the general feel of the engine as being near its end - 55-60mpg! Moderate 65-70mph cruising would tum in as much as 65mpg, though town riding only allowed 50mpg. From 85mph to 105mph in top gear, acceleration was pretty useful if far from joint dislocating. Beyond that, secondary vibes tried in earnest but ultimately failed to destroy the machine - I just had to pull over after half an hour's madness to pop my eyeballs back in!

Oil leakage from the cylinder head gasket soon threatened to splatter the machine with lubricant and debris. I did the usual trick, massive force on the head's bolts. Turned the flood into a mere trickle though I did feel a couple of the studs begin to give and any more force would've meant a total engine strip! At the back of my mind there was always the thought of making a large profit - total cost of the classic was around the 500 note mark, probable resale value two grand!

That didn't stop me riding the bike for the next few months. The only exceptional thing about the experience was that the engine kept on growling away as if it was going to make it around the clock for a second time! I even became used to the godawful gearbox and could usually make a clean change. Handling and braking took more effort than any modern middleweight would demand but could hardly be called dangerous, the Z650 was always one of the better handling bikes of its generation.

Purchase of a wrecked CBR600 was my next move. An early model with ruined plastic, bent front end but a motor that still purred away meaningfully. The Z650 was put up for sale at 1950 notes and went for two hundred quid less. Had loads of telephone calls, the punters not even put off by the thought of the incredible mileage that had piled up - 128000 at that stage!

The Z looks very classic but is easily out-paced by any vaguely modern middleweight, which also feel much less raw. Still, a tough old bugger with plenty of character and the potential to turn a profit if you do the resurrection shuffle.

Dean Peters

MZ Madness

It all started with this old hack MZ 150. Came right out of the Dark Ages, much modded along the way. A lot of the ironwork stripped away, the electrics were just a few ignition wires! No lights or horn. It ran, or rather rattled and smoked; maxed out at exactly 42mph! On one level, a horrible old thing; on another a wonderful introduction to the joys of motorcycling for an unemployable youth of 17. Riding a ratty MZ whilst under the influence of E and ten pints of cider, gave a whole new meaning to civil unrest! Amazingly, I was never arrested. Some people have all the luck!

I was absolutely determined to make the old stroker single do 50mph! The steepest hill in Hampshire was chosen, but the moment the speedo crept beyond 42mph the engine seized up. The locked up back wheel did wonders for my constipation. I recalled reading that under such conditions you should hit the clutch lever. There was a large explosion, the bike bounded forward! The chain had snapped, a terminal velocity of 49mph was reached in freewheel mode, before I reckoned some braking was needed.

The SLS drums responded to brute force with maximum fade, speed declined to about 25mph before a sharp left-hander had to be taken. Despite having a history that included writing off several cars, the old hack still stumbled around bends in a reasonable manner. At least when the engine was connected to the back wheel... I'm sure some of you technical types could discourse at length on the effects of freewheeling on handling but all I know is that progress was a series of weird lurches that further soiled my underwear.

I soon grew into the belief that riding a motorcycle whilst high on various illegal substances was a quick way to an early grave. Given the choice between drugs and bikes I still had enough brain cells left to opt for the latter! Actually, all my mates concluded I was the mad nutter but as I've outlived at least half of them (and I'm only 23!) I think I made the right choice. The 150 was replaced by a mongrel MZ 250, made up from several crashed bikes, the engine was off an ex-racer. This probably wasn't insurable but as I never bothered to apply for a motorcycle licence in the first place that need hardly concern us, right?

The bike was a bit of a street sleeper. Looked like it had spent the night in a dustbin (as did I). But it put out an awful lot of power, as well as a banshee wail. Poor old Superdream owners didn't know what had hit them and I made one CBR600 rider fall off when he tried to follow me through a narrow traffic gap. OK, as the engine maxed out, the pegs threatened to twirl off with the vibes despite the sophisticated engine mounting system (it wasn't designed to work two thousand revs beyond the red line). And the smokescreen effectively made me invisible to helicopters and other police detection systems. Well handy... er, apart from having the lungs of a sixty year-old.

Top speed depended entirely on conditions and the length of the road. A long, flat road without any wind, the bike would do 95mph, maybe 97mph. A steep hill and following gale, would push it to 104/5mph, at the price of various bits falling off and the handling going to pot - I blame the GPz305 front end upsetting the geometry, though I had no complaints about the twin discs. Well, I had plenty about the quick corrode calipers but that's so par for the course on old hacks that it hardly bears mentioning, does it? Spares were plentiful and cheap in breakers - for the brakes and the rest of the heap, er, interesting classic-in-the-making.

Many fun times were had on the 250, took about 6000 miles before the gearbox and main bearings simultaneously disintegrated. Sounds bad, but as it had electronic ignition the only maintenance I'd done was the oil, and right up to the end it could still roll Superdreams every which way! Fuel was around 40mpg, oil consumption horrendous and the rest of the consumables cost next to nowt. A plain 250 engine was thrown in but it wasn't a good one and the bike was sold for what it had cost.

The replacement was an ancient TS250 but one that had been rebuilt to a reasonable standard and even sported the sublimely attractive Sport petrol tank! This was slow by the standards of the ex-racer, and even more vibratory, but it managed 65-70mpg for most of the time and would still break through the 80mph barrier. Electronic ignition, new gearbox and main bearings, meant it was set up for some serious mileage.

The only problem I had was with other MZ owners. They all seemed to be old codgers who didn't know if they should be shocked or outraged to find an ex-drug addict amongst their number. The psychedelic paint job perfectly matched my own hair but didn't seem to endear the bike to their numbers. One old guy, who looked about a hundred, took me to one side and suggested I might be better off on a Vespa. Never been so insulted in my whole life! So I had to cross various MZ rallies off my calendar! No great loss.

Racing with old Jap 250s was a favourite pastime but they have become increasingly rare on the road, their built in obsolescence losing out to the MZ's infinitely rebuildable nature - you see really ancient MZ's still polluting the landscape. Don't know about the ones built in Turkey, at least they still mean there will be plenty of parts around. Modem replicas are easy to tease and it's possible to mess up their riders by taking a psychopathic stance against oncoming traffic - the MZ's very narrow and tough, tends to write off whatever it hits! The low purchase cost and ease of rebuild means I have no worries about running the bike through the most dire conditions.

I must admit that I've bought my first big bike. Yep, you guessed it, a meaty Ural combo with machine gun mounts. An amazing mechanical contraption that had a fanatical engineer as a first owner, he kind enough to upgrade the bike to vaguely modern specs - ie the engine bearings last for tens of thousands rather than thousands of miles and the electrics are somewhat ahead of what you might expect of a Puch Maxi (and don't ask how I know). But that's another daft story.

The MZ - any MZ, in fact - is still so useful that I ride it more than I do the Urinal. No big compliment, I suppose, but even if I bought something modem, the MZ would still win through for winter work and daily commuting. Comfort, cheapness and sheer utility - it's got it all.

Colin Chambers

Loose Lines [Issue 92, Apr/May 1999]

Sorry, but I don't really like Ducatis. The odd Monster I can take in small doses but the rest of the range leaves me cold. Yes, I know a 916 looks cool from certain angles, but the front of its petrol tank has to be on a par with modern CZs for sheer uglinesss.

The motors, even the air-cooled ones, are a mess of disparate bits that makes you wonder what age their casting foundry is in, with various bits and bobs tacked on in an apparently random manner. Get a couple of yards away, the view's much improved. Yes, ninety degree V-twins have great power characteristics but Dukes are still finicky beasts at best and often downright nasty on the second hand circuit. Yes, they handle but the ergonomics are so superior on many Jap bikes that any mild deficiency in handling is exactly that - minor! New ones are no longer competitively priced and second hand bikes potentially too dodgy and therefore expensive to even think about. Won't stop me publishing articles that praise them to high heaven but don't expect me to join in the applause.

The same goes for Harleys. I love the way their motors look, sound and even perform, but the rest of the package, even in the mildest iteration of the Sportster, is so silly and impractical that I don't want to know. A Sportster engine in a Goodman chassis I might contemplate, though its shape brings forth painful reminiscences of a dreadful Triton I once owned and its inherent compromises mean that maximum advantage of the breed isn't exacted - as in low centre of gravity, narrowness and minimal overall mass. The Buells, whilst technically interesting, manage to diminish the sheer brutality of the Harley's engine. Beautiful babes, by the way, usually end up in Porsche passenger seats or hopping around on modern scooters.

Triumphs are a near miss. The modern Daytona and Speed Triple have brilliant motors, agile chassis, but I don't like the styling and are far too complex to really get into. No, I'd rather go for one of the old 900 Tridents, strip the bike right down to get the weight more reasonable and maybe play around with the styling. In their inability to see the obvious (as in mounting the swinging arm on the back of the engine) Triumph messed up big time, ending up with a stupidly complex frame and too much mass. Still, it's British, therefore worth a shot and they have a good reputation on the used circuit.

BMWs? A long time ago I almost bought an R100RS, just for its fairing because I was doing long distances during the winter. Great ergonomics and ease of maintenance their major plus points, but modern Boxers have lost the plot, far too heavy and still nasty beasts if you want to hustle through tight town traffic. If I was being sensible, I might go for an F650 thumper, save that I don't like the way it looks (not to be confused with the quality of its finish) and ultimately it's 50-100lbs overweight.

Hondas I always have a soft spot for, having started off on an old, spine frame, sixties CD175 (we will ignore the NSU Quickly as I certainly don't have any nostalgic memories of that hack). Of their modern bikes, though, only the CBR900 and 600 have any appeal. The former's still shod with a silly sixteen inch front wheel, so no thanks (which also turns me off the 600 Hornet). The CBR6 is almost there, it's just the high running and servicing costs that turn me off. The CB500S should appeal - I like vertical twins - but the styling is so horrible I really couldn't bring myself to purchase one, it also needs more power and less weight.

Yamaha make very tough motors but usually mess up the chassis. The R1's probably sublime in many ways but it doesn't quite gel, nor does it fit me very well. Dump the plastic, fit proper bars, I might go wild. The TDM and TRX 850s are burdened with a poorly designed motor and excessive mass but I could live with that - for a while. I quite like the 600 Diversion, save that it needs fifty percent more power. No pleasing some people.

Kawasakis have left me enraged ever since I discovered (after I bought one) that the GPz500 has a chain primary drive - talk about taking the piss! The styling of their replicas has always been a little out of joint, too fat around the front, despite the searing acceleration and improbable top speeds of their 600s and 900s. The only bike I really dig in their whole range, the KLX650!

Suzukis I admire for their general toughness and engineering finesse, but their styling peaked with the 550/650 Katanas and hasn't recovered since. OK, I've never been a great fan of replicas, but I've yet to see a GSXR that didn't look odd from more angles than it looked good...

I could go on and on but all this carping is purely academic in the new world of crashing new bike prices and disappearing second hand values. Dealers are refusing to take bikes in part-ex or buy them, other than for really silly, desperate money, which means even more bikes on the private used market, ever falling prices. Prices for most bikes now so low that many minor problems can be overcome with some of the dosh saved, the range of possible machinery expanding rapidly... just go and have some fun!

Bill Fowler