Loose Lines: Noise [Issue 72, October 1996]

Conversations from Hell...

“Hi, I'm phoning about the motorcycle.”

“What do you want to know about it?”

A promising start.

“Where are you?”

“Bridgend.”

“How long have you owned the bike?”

“Only a couple of weeks. I took it in part exchange for my big 800 Suzuki. The guy couldn’t come up with all the money so I took the little bike in part exchange.” Maybe bad news. Maybe a back street dealer playing cute.

“How does it go?”

“Like new, only done 800 miles. Just run in. They've sure changed since my day... electric start, discs at both ends, upside-down forks...” “Upside-down forks on the Wolf?” Oh-my-god, maybe a written off bike repaired with the wrong forks.

“Yeah that’s right. The one with the fairing had normal forks and the Wolf had the real goods.” “Are you sure, I always thought the '94 Wolf had normal forks.” “No, no, you've got that the wrong way round.”

Like hell! (I checked later and I was right).

“Is it restricted?”

“Nah, you just take a black and white wire out. Worth an extra 10mph on the clock. The guy who sold it to me told me that.”

“Has it been crashed?”

“Nah, not by me. Barely run in, innit?”

“Where do you live exactly?”

“I never give that kind of information out. The guy who sold me the bike warned me that. They'll come round, look the bike over and then come back a few days later to steal the bike. I'll meet you at the bus station or something.”

It gets worse, the bike’s probably been stolen, crashed, ridden into the ground, etc.

“I don’t suppose your name’s in the logbook?”

“It's not worth it for a few weeks, is it?”

Sure, sure.

“When will you be in tomorrow?” “All day. I’m on shifts but I’m off tomorrow. In all day.” Sounds ever more like a back street dealer.

“I'll phone you tomorrow.”

Like hell!

“Hello, I’m telephoning about the motorcycle.”

“Er, where did you see it, mate?” Come on!

“I don’t know, I’ve forgotten.”

“Er, MCN?”

“I don't know. Someone else gave me the details.”

“When did you get the details?” Give me strength.

“How long have you owned the bike?”

“OK, mate, you win. Which bike are you talking about?”

Truth at last.

“You a dealer, then?”

“No, no, just got a couple of bikes for sale. Nothing wrong with that.” “You have your name in the log book?”

“No, never bother with any of that stuff.” Sure, sure. “So how long have you owned the Honda?”  “Er, which Honda was that?” Oh dear. “Bye, bye.”

“Hello, I’m calling about the motorcycle.” “Oh yes! Which one? I've got a little Gilera and big Honda four.” “You a dealer then?”

“No, I just like motorcycles. Selling these two because I’ve just bought a ZXR750.”

“Nice. What sort of condition’s the Gilera in?”

“I bought it as a non-runner. Had some ignition problems. It’s pretty original, I even bought a new exhaust system for it. Cost £150 just for that but it makes the bike look right.” “How does it go?” “Fine, it's very fast for a 150, 80mph on the clock. Do you know the model?” “Yeah, the Acore from the mid-seventies. Nice looking thing with an OHV engine.” “That's it! Do you want to see it. I have it at my engineering works...” Slam the phone down in disgust, not wanting to fix someone else’s bodging.

Later, when I recovered, I made the trek to a grey importers to view some American customs, described in their advert as superb, concours, immaculate etc. I got there ahead of the crowds before the dealer had brought them around from his other warehouse.

Immediately, I conjured up visions of crash damaged reprobates being hastily bodged together. We're talking around £1500 for late seventies steeds like the XS650, GS400 and even the odd CB500T.

The dealer was also a breaker, which wasn’t a good sign. Neither were the mangy heaps in his showroom which didn't rise above the hundred quid rat bike status, save that he wanted £500 to £1500 for them. Tiny Honda 250 customs were the exception, but the seat height was so low that every time you stopped at traffic lights you'd be eyeball to eyeball with mad Pekinese dogs.

The boss reckoned they were a bit of all right and looked greatly wronged when I pointed out that the lowness of the seat height made them dangerous, awkward and just plain horrible. Sensitive chaps, these dealers.

After about half an hour the concours XS650 and superb GS400 were rolled around by a couple of hardcore mechanics. The XS had handlebars and seat straight out of Easy Rider but the engine looked clean enough to reflect the 14000 miles on the clock, save that the dials looked like they came off an early CB250K.

The mechanic reckoned the black paint job was original but it looked to me like it was done with a few spray cans by someone bearing a grudge.

“Lovely bit of engineering there, mate.”

“Yeah, I had one back in 1982. Bought it with 50 thou on the clock and did 30000 miles without any engine trouble. Should this indicator be hanging off like that?” “Must’ve been damaged in transit. It's come all the way from Texas.”

“Are these marks on the frame down-tubes signs of a straightened frame?”

The look of worried consternation on the dealer’s face was worth framing.

“No, no, that was where they were clamped in the crate.” “Why are these footrest hangers so rusty, completely devoid of paint, if the mileage’s so low?”

“Do you want to hear it run then?” “Why not.” Anything for a laugh. Things turned a little surreal when the mechanic brought out a charge booster the size of a filing cabinet.

The XS remained resolutely dead apart from clicking from a white box above the battery. No-one seemed to know what it was for. Eventually the mechanic sussed that putting 24 volts through the electrical system wasn't such a good idea when he'd connected the jump leads the wrong way around! I could see he was a sensitive kind of chap so I refrained from walking away in disgust - I had no intention of buying a crashed and straightened bike that had been clocked and had the whole electrical system melted. After replacing all the fuses the neutral light came on and the starter grumbled away.

“Have you checked that there’s oil in the engine? I asked.

Four bottles of 10/40W later, the big vertical twin finally spat into life. But only after emptying a can of Easy-Start into the air filter and nearly burning outthe starter motor. The short megaphones allowed the kind of bellow that made arrest imminent and the shop window threatened to leap out of its frame.

Both the sidestand prong and I shared the same paving slab, which vibrated so harshly that it put my fillings on edge. Beneath the exhaust howl I could just make out a curious shrieking noise from the top end. XS650’s can rattle away merrily yet stay together, but this noise was like metal tearing away at metal, maybe a bearing surface being cut up or a disintegrating camchain tensioner.

The motor was switched off before I could narrow it down; saved me from having to spit out a mouth full of fillings. There was a general air of celebration amongst the dealer and his mechanics. “Sounds pretty good, doesn't it?” The amazing thing was that the dealer looked like he believed it. I made my excuses and left.

Bill Fowler

 

Suzuki Katana 1100

I bought the Kat in the midst of the last recession. Some Hooray Henry had bought a new one with the aim of selling it as an immaculate classic some time in the future. The clock read a mere 900 miles! He was short of money, obviously not too amused to have to deal with scruffy bikers. It was plain from the pillion test ride that he didn't have a clue how to ride a big bike. After some haggling the bike was mine for a bargain price!

Riding home, without insurance or an MOT, I kept the big four in check - it wanted to hurtle forwards, break the ton barrier in the blink of an eye, but the consequences of police attention didn't bear thinking about. There was plenty of power at the bottom end but slightly annoying secondary vibration around 3000rom save the hint that the motor wanted more throttle. A brief sortie to seven grand gave a glimpse of the massive kicks that were in store!

The legal side sorted, I headed for the nearest stretch of speed testing highway a narrow B road that had an extremely long straight and no hedgerows for cagers or plod to hide behind. There's so much power that there's no real need to work the gearbox, just use the throttle and wave after wave of power flows out.

Brilliant, it shot through the ton, just kept going up to 130mph before it slowed a little. I hung on until a ton-fifty, then backed off rapidly. At that point the smooth road turned very bumpy, just before a hairpin bend! The sides of the road lined by a minor river and a ditch! This is a test of both a machine's handling and the rider's balls.

As soon as the Suzuki hit the rough stuff, at about 125mph, the chassis gave up, turned liquid - as did my bowels! I was thrown around in the seat like on some mad horse ride whilst the bike turned into a high speed kangaroo. The only reaction was to grab all the brakes, triple discs that howled away but seemed to take ages to lose speed.

50mph on the clock, the bike all over the shop, I then had to hurl it right over to get around the hairpin! On a bike I had only the vaguest idea of how it would react to highway madness. Tyres were OE junk that twitched in protest as I ear‘oled the monster. The undercarriage sparked away but around I the bend it went.

Still shaking (the both of us), I hit the throttle in anger in third as the bend straightened out. Screamed with the sheer thrill of it all, the front end rearing up and the back tyre twitching like it was disintegrating. The bike growled down the next straight, the chassis finally sorting itself out. This was repeated many times, the Katana behaving like all the chassis bearings were falling out but give it some manly input and it would sort itself out. Most o/ the time.

Still, as soon as I had some money I fitted some EBC pads, Michelin tyres and a pair of heavy-duty shocks from the breakers. The bike was still as edgy as hell but would take some of the faster bends without trying to run off the road. Its stability was in direct relationship to the smoothness of the road...

On which, it should be noted that this was not a comfortable long distance tourer, though the huge tank and 50mpg suggested possibilities of long distance Continental riding. The seat was crap, the tank splayed me out as if on the rack and the stretch to the bars did in my arms and shoulders. The only solution, officer, was to ride very fast, blitz my mind with images of the tarmac and scenery screaming past. The ton-fifty blues soon totally addictive.

The Hooray Henry had forgotten to fill in the transfer slip on the registration doc so he probably ended up with a large pile of summonses. I can recall blasting past one cop car on the motorway just as he was pulling a cage over. Throttle to the stop, 160mph on the clock, I was a master of the universe!

The madness was muted by the winter. All that power on relatively thin tyres had the Katana skating and sliding in a highly dangerous manner. Had to keep the revs below five grand and the bike relatively upright, otherwise I'd be doing the tarmac dance. All that mass waiting to let loose in a retributive manner.

Winter also did for the calipers and exhaust, both rotting away at an amazing rate. The engine was immune to all levels of abuse and neglect, would even start first press of the button when the bike was covered in ice and snow!

After replacing the calipers seals, doing a full rebuild and adding Goodridge hose, a few hundred miles later the drive chain was shagged (with 5600 miles on the clock). Even the sprockets looked dodgy. An expensive O-ring chain and sprocket conversion increased chain life by a factor of three! The silencers were ready to fall off come the spring, but a couple of universal cans were knocked on without doing in the carburation. The engine was so large in capacity that despite the power it wasn't particularly finicky.

With these mods another riding season was enjoyed. I never came close to becoming bored with the power output and the chassis machinations always kept me awake. A unique combination of massive power and nervous if ultimately safe chassis. I let a few mates have a go - used to modern replicas they came back all shook up and white-faced, congratulating me on my riding ability - I used to beat them in the comers by blasting through on the power and ignoring the feeling of chassis disintegration. Especially amusing at night, the spark show from the undercarriage and tarmac interface mind bending for those behind.

The second winter, I hustled around on a GN250 and left the Katana glowing beautifully in the garage. Another year on the road, had a few more hassles. The chassis bearings gave up at 16000 miles and the forks went all soggy. Nothing a bit of money and effort couldn't sort, though the handling was totally suicidal in both instances. As it was when I ran the bike on nearly bald tyres. At the end of the year I treated the bike to a newish 4-1 and reupholstered seat, the latter the best thing I ever did for the bike. Not that it was up to huge mileages, the strange riding position still intruding.

The bike was used quite a bit through the next winter, the GN had blown its top end - it was too slow after the Kat, thrashed everywhere! My speeds were up but the top end of the rev range completely ignored unless it was one of those rare, sunny, dry winter days. The Kat's alloy went off rapidly but the paint was OK. Consumables were too horrendous to work out but fuel was still good at 50mpg.

The next spring, a long distance Continental tour was on the cards. It was hell on earth until I got down to Spain, all the way through France there were these fantastical hailstorms! When my visor cracked and flew off I was deep in the manure. Doing more than 300 miles in a day left me barely able to see, that riding position really was torture. Nothing that could be done about it!

The engine lived a charmed life until 54000 miles when the exhaust smoked heavily and the valves made an alarming noise. I was just getting ready to return to Blighty from Rome! The bike was obviously giving me a hint! There are still plenty of back street mechanics in the Italian capital but most of them don't want to work on Jap iron. Neither do they speak much English. I found some old chap who would take the head off (not something I fancied doing in the gutter) and see what was what.

A week later I had a bill for about 150 quid, three replacement (used) valves and an engine tune-up. Sounded really quiet and rewed with renewed vigour. I blitzed through Italy, the speedo above the ton for most of the time. The Italian drivers tried, in their macho mad way, to knock me off but the Kat's actually quite easy to swerve around things at speed.

160mph on the clock was the most I ever saw, fast enough to leave some pig in a big Fiat way behind. I had to hit the first tum-off, to make sure they didn't radio ahead. As long as you don't actually stop, riding on Brit plates abroad is a ball. If they actually pull you, it's prison or a massive fine, or both. Bail bonds and green cards weren't something I ever bothered with!

Once off the autostradas the roads degenerate alarmingly. Made to upset the Kat in the maximum way possible! A bloody big pot-hole on one bend's exit had the Suzuki going sideways. I was wise enough to wear full leathers, got away with a bit of a bruising. The 1100 ran to crash-bars that were broken up by the tarmac but saved the bike from terminal damage.

Dazed and confused, I had no idea where I had come from or which way to tide down the road. The Kat coughed and spluttered before catching, shook all over the place until the body shakes died down. Eventually, made it back on to the main route out of the country.

About fifty miles down the road, the motor coughed, stuttered and died! Fuel starvation? Nope there was plenty there. I managed to get to the side of the road, soon found that I was suffering from total electrical failure. A spanner over the battery's contacts revealed that it was dead. A very slight incline meant I could push the bike off and leap aboard. Did about 10mph all the way to the next exit. Lucky, as recovery charges are mega-expensive.

That got me on a minor road, where I hitch-hiked to the nearest town, battery in hand. This proved optimistic as the best the auto shop could do was sell me a big car battery and set of bungee cords to attach it to the pillion seat. Had to walk most of the way back to the bike, relieved to find it still there and in one piece (thievery a second occupation for many Wops).

The bike fired up OK, ran strongly, but as I swung into the first set of curves there was a slamming noise as the battery bounced off the seat and hit the back of the bike. It still hung on by the connecting wires! Some more work on the bungee cords, I was set for the border!

France was a welcome sight, even if I still had a long way to go to reach home. It soon became apparent that the alternator wasn't charging, a fully charged car battery would do about 200 miles - as long as I didn't use the hom or lights. A battery charger was purchased, we cantered through France doing less than 200 miles every day, the battery charged overnight.

When Blighty was reached I bought a rectifier/regulator out of a GSX750 but that didn't help at all! The crash must've hit the alternator casing hard enough to displace something. The coils were charred beyond help. An exchange alternator and another rectifier/regulator plus new battery and some rewiring finally had the bike working properly. An expensive accident but less so than pulling over for the Italian cops.

Or maybe the bike was just showing its age. Put me off doing any more long distance riding, wasn't quite sure what was going to happen next. Typically, the Kat ran fine for the next eleven thousand miles, just the usual consumables.

At this point I had to find better wheels and discs (cracking up!), do all the chassis bearings and fit a used 4-1 (before the old exhaust fell to bits). A couple of weeks later the crankshaft started to knock! I'd been doing the oil changes every 2000 miles but the filter very rarely! That's my excuse anyway!

As the chassis was in reasonable nick I looked around for a replacement motor. The only one | could find was a GS550 for 300 notes. Half the capacity and only 54 horses (somewhat reduced by wear), it didn't fit straight in but after making some engine plates and a spacer for the final drive sprocket, | had a running machine.

The stock GS550 needs to lose about a 100lbs not gain them. Initial impressions of the performance was ghastly, just didn't want to motor. Partly down to the gearing being much too tall. Once that was sorted there was a bit more acceleration and a 110mph top speed. Changes in weight distribution made it easier to throw around and more stable - or maybe it was just the lack of power not twisting the frame or swinging arm any more.

I soon grew to like this strange concoction but it didn't stop me from stripping down the Katana's engine. Not a pretty sight but after scavenging various breakers I was able to put together a motor with a reasonable degree of sureness as to its mechanical integrity.

The bugger didn't want to start until some mates gave me a half mile push! She burped into life with a roar and took off like a scalded cat. The throttle cable had snagged, it wouldn't run below six grand, which meant that it was always in the maximum power band! Nearly killed myself several times in the mile before I realised what was going down!

That sorted, the Kat ran better than ever for the next few months. Unfortunately, various mates had upgraded to high spec replicas and to keep up I had to ride the Kat like a total maniac! As in off the edge of its tyres. The only surprising thing was that it took months rather than days to actually fall off.

The tubular steel frame seems quite tough - I never managed to bend it. But the forks were savagely bent after a roll down the road, from overcooking it in a tight corner. I had concussion and a broken wrist. I took this as a strong hint to find something a little bit more modern. The breaker supplied yet another front end and the NHS did the honours for the bodily pains!

I started out with a low mileage classic, ended up replacing most of it over the next seven years, had loads of fun and did a massive amount of mileage, and very reluctantly traded in for a newish CBR900 - a total culture shock but I still miss the Katana. Oh, I also made a nice profit on the sale, it had finally attained classic status!

John Phillips

 

Honda CB500/4

The CB500 four celebrated going around the clock by smoking like a stroker and tapping like an old sewing machine. For the third time in its life, I took the cylinder head off, found that one of the tappets had broken up and there was a large piece of valve missing. Typically, the valve debris must've gone straight through the exhaust rather than damaging the engine.

Over the decades I'd acquired half a garage full of dead CB500s, had enough parts to build a couple more bikes. Though I had no inclination, one CB was more than enough. The replacement parts fitted, the CB was back to normal. Normality consists of about the ton, 50mpg and ace handling! Ace handling? Well, a pair of strong Koni shocks and GPz550 forks means the Honda has proper suspension rather than the dodgy original equipment. Once a bit of wear gets into the OE stuff, weaves and even wobbles emerge. On shot tyres and suspension the bike can turn into a bit of a camel.

On the other hand, with upgraded suspension and fresh modern rubber the 420Ib Honda handles really well. Not in the same league as modern tackle, perhaps, rather more in line with British twins - firm, precise but a bit slow turning. The real limitation comes from a lack of ground clearance, even with a 4-1 exhaust. The CB can turn very suicidal when something digs in but I've always managed - so far - to lurch it on to a new line.

In fact, accidents, over more than 20 years, have been very rare. Certainly wasn't the brakes - single front disc and rear drum - which are antiquated by modern standards. Though I could upgrade them I want to keep the wire wheels, which have been expensively rebuilt with stainless steel spokes and alloy rims.

The latter caused by one of the few accidents that went down. Turning left, the Honda caught on a raised manhole cover and I got a boot down. Saved the fall but the kick sent the CB on a new course. Ended by crashing into an Escort. Nice dent in his wing but a very buckled wheel that wouldn't even turn in the forks. I was so annoyed that I told the cops who turned up to fuck off. Not recommended, they reckoned I'd tried to assault them! Spent about three hours in a cell until they realised that the parents were rich and then it was all a big misunderstanding!
The parents are also mean, won't buy me a new CBR; in fact, won't have anything to do with motorcycles. 

The accident had also dented one of the original silencers (don't ask how, I don't know), which after six years had rusted most of their baffles and were beginning to develop large holes. The whole system was massive in weight and not particularly attractive. The 4-1 replacement went on with only a few heavy taps but the carbs were way out. Too lean. The solution was to remove the short silencer and replace it with the best of the four stock silencers, which was freer flowing thanks to the lack of baffling.

Gave the mid-range a more manic edge, not difficult as the stocker's 50 horses is very bland in its delivery. Top end was the same but low rev delivery had a fit of the stutters below 2000rpm. This was cleared up by fitting a set of K and N filters, not an easy job! There was a very marginal improvement in top speed, as well.

The carbs become impossible to balance after 60000 miles, need replacing. I fitted a set out of a crashed 19000 miler, couldn't believe how much smoother it was (they need balancing every 500 miles, tiresome) and economy recovered from an all time low of 35mpg! Worth checking out the fuel pipe as it hardens with age and cracks up!

As do the carb manifolds - I spent a week tearing my hair out, wondering why the engine was running badly. Even took the head off to check if the valves were dying. Only by chance did I notice that there was a small crack in one of the carb manifolds. With four cylinders it becomes very difficult to trace minor problems.

50-60000 miles seems to be the inbuilt limit of these bikes, the point when obsolescence rules. The wiring spits off its insulation and tries to set fire to the bike (the idea that the CB is a living thing with a will of its own is deeply embedded in my mind after all this time!). Batteries boiled after about six thousand miles, didn't go back to normal until all the wiring and black boxes were replaced. The actual alternator is original!

No sooner was that fixed, than the always wayward gearbox went completely impossible. Shot selectors and gearbox cogs breaking up. I always did a 750 mile oil change in deference to both engine and gearbox sharing their oil (a then radical if now ubiquitous design that still makes no sense to me!). The top end could be left in place but it's still a major job to split the crankcases and replace the parts. The crankshaft looked like new, which was reassuring!

The new selectors and gears took a few hundred miles to mesh properly, lots of whining and jerking before they settled down. I would've preferred a touch taller gearing, the bike was always buzzing a bit too much in top gear but the acceleration would've turned far too stately; it was slow enough as stock. The bike can't keep up with mediocre tackle such as GS500Es but it will still cruise along at 80-85mph on the motorway. Given the mileage, impressive!

At 65000 miles the bike was treated to another set of cylinders and pistons, a valve regrind and some replacement tappets which were worn right down. The camshaft itself was still pristine, down to those frequent oil changes. After a few hundred miles of running in, the engine felt a touch more powerful and smoother. The engine could've run for a few more miles, maybe made it through the 70000 mile mark.

The chassis bearings never gave any trouble for the first 40000 miles. Then the wheel bearings went, closely followed by the swinging arm and steering head. I ended up destroying the swinging arm spindle but had a couple of spares. Replacement bearings had a much shorter life than the originals - figure 15-20000 miles.

Can be mildly inconvenient as I had the rear wheel bearings go midway through a two-up tour of France. The French pretended not to understand, looked aghast at the idea of repairing such an ancient motorcycle and in the end I had to get a friend to mail replacements out to me. Might just've been language difficulties as they still have lots of blacksmiths and the like - it's all to do with the rates, I think - in the UK they rip you off something rotten even before you've turned a profit if you open a shop.

Wasn't the end of the world, mind, whilst waiting for the parts we holed up in a cheap hotel and had a nice time wandering around Paris. The last time I was in London, by way of contrast, had the shock of my life the cheapest hotel cost about sixty quid and was the size of the Paris hotel's bathroom! After the back wheel debacle, I always carry spare chassis bearings (and a swinging arm spindle!). I already have spare cables taped next to the existing ones, home-made with nylons inners, they last much longer than stock and are smoother. It is possible to ride the Honda without a working clutch but not much fun!

Rust eats away at various chassis components, you'd be lucky to get more than 60000 miles out of things like petrol tanks. No problem for me, I have plenty of parts to hand. By the way, dead CBs don't seem of much interest to the punters (in contrast to prime 500s which are considered classics) and I've never paid more than 150 sovs for them. Much cheaper than even going to breakers for parts who usually laugh at the mention of such an old machine. There are a lot of common bits between models of this era if you don't want to clutter up your house or garage.

One malady the CB500 used to suffer from was poor running in wet weather, a couple of cylinders cutting out. Unlike some of the later Honda fours, all it needed was new HT leads and caps. I find changing the spark plugs every 2500 miles helps with general running, especially starting from cold. Electronic ignition has replaced the points, along with some better spec
ignition coils. No improvement in economy or speed, though.

The bike now has 109870 miles on the clock. A bit more than that as I often don't get around to replacing the speedo cables for a couple of weeks - they can be short-lived. The frame is still original, most of the chassis has been replaced somewhere along the line! Not exactly the best build quality in the world, but it's been a lot cheaper to repair the bike as | go along than try to sell it and buy something more modern.

As to the future, I am in the market for some new wheels, something I can keep for a couple of decades. Not another four, as they are a touch bland. An SV650 Suzuki appeals, they look like they might last a long time. 

W.K.L.