Rain fell so heavily that I could only see a yard ahead. It took about 90 minutes to do that 20 miles. The vendor was shocked that anyone would come out in weather like that. The Guzzi stood shining in his garage, 12000 miles and ten years of abuse under its wheels. A Mk.3 version with the addition of a handlebar fairing, panniers and a lovely stainless steel exhaust system. Prime meat for £800 and he'd ride over to my house when the storm abated the next day or maybe the next week. To get home in the cage I had to take a 40 mile diversion and two and half hours. Some day! Still, it kept the masses from viewing the V50 and ensured I picked up a bargain.
The prime meat consisted of a ninety degree OHV V-twin engine that on a good day managed 45 horses. The Guzzi is one of the few bikes with a shaft drive to maintain a low mass (350lbs), with the result that the transmission is a bit slack and the handling not quite what you'd expect from an Italian thoroughbred.
The previous owner, bless him, had gone to some trouble to uprate the suspension by fitting Koni Dial-a-Rides and progressive fork springs. A combination that gave a Ducati tautness but didn't alleviate a certain remoteness of the tyres from the rider, nor cure the way the shaft drive could churn in on the overrun. Stock suspension, especially when worn, was rather too soft and made matters much worse. That isn't to say that the Guzzi wasn't a friendly bike to ride, just that when pushed hard it’d show a certain reluctance to follow orders.
The mild power and minimal mass made the bike an easy ride in town and down twisty country roads. I particularly liked the way I could relax behind the screen in bad weather during my daily commute to work, but still be able to tear through the narrowest of gaps in the traffic flow.
The linked brakes were a mixed blessing. They worked well at sub 70mph speeds when I could just tap into the foot pedal, which used one front and one rear disc. Above that speed there was too much pressure at the back and not enough at the front, the back tyre screaming before the front. I've owned Guzzis in the past that were much more proficient in their braking so the system may have needed some adjustment or bleeding. I used the other front disc, operated by the hand lever, in anger to compensate. It wasn't that great a problem in the first six months as I had few opportunities to do more than 70mph, a result of lots of overtime and a demanding wife.
The speed with which I did the journey to work compared with the car was worth an extra 90 minutes in overtime, which meant it only took me two months to justify the cost of the V50 in extra money earned! Fuel, tyres and brake pads were all more expensive than the cage, though. I was particularly annoyed at only getting 45mpg despite not caning the engine - I later found that fuel remained constant even when it was thrashed flat out! The exhaust wasn’t standard, may have caused the engine to run too rich but the power flow was so seamless, so lacking in flat spots that I rather doubted this excuse.
The slower V50 Mk.1 with which I had a brief liaison did 50 to 60mpg but didn't like to pull over 80mph whereas the Mk.3 will motor up to the ton without much protest and under favourable conditions will put as much as 110mph on the clock. The weaves at such speed are a bit disconcerting, far better to back off to 90mph which also ensures there’ no chance of tangling the pushrods.
My speed testing had to wait until the annual holidays. The wife went to Club Nutters and I went off on the bike, both free to indulge whatever fantasies came our way! The Pennines were my favourite stomping ground and the V50 acquitted itself well. We only ran off the road twice when the bumpy corners caught out the suspension and the shaft drive went into a retributive frenzy. I was going far too fast for the conditions, but with the scenery and the curvy, swooping roads it was dead easy to get carried away. I was thankful that I wasn't carried away in an ambulance.
Ridding hard and fast for 500 miles caused the tappets to rattle and the carbs to go out of balance. In milder use for commuting they would last for a more reasonable 2000 miles, a useful point at which to change the oil. The valves and carbs were readily accessible and easily adjustable, only the most mechanically inept moron would need the services of a dealer.
Rather a lot has been written about the way that V50s rust and generally fall apart. It seems to vary a lot from model to model and also depends on the amount of loving care expended by the owner: The stainless steel exhaust was obviously a bonus, as the standard item does rust away merrily. I gave the bike a good clean and polish every weekend, which was sufficient attention to maintain its glow. The previous owner had been a stickler for keeping the bike in good shape, even muttered something about keeping the Guzzi in the house over the winter.
There are an awful lot of rat V50s around and the engine becomes very dodgy once more than 50000 miles are done. Mine, after a year and an extra 9000 miles, had developed a rattly clutch and a heavy thirst for oil. I suspect the valves (which can seize up if the bike’s not used for a time) rather than the bores, as the valve gear is more likely to go than the pistons. The bike still runs OK so no panic just yet.
The winter took its toll on me rather than the machine (although corrosion on the wheels was very hard to keep at bay). Despite the fairing and a useful amount of heat thrown off the cylinders, I often ended up soaked through and frozen up. There were a couple of instances when the engine went down on to one cylinder for a few moments but WD40 waved at the handlebar switches cured that.
I can report that V50s on ice are not nice as I had sod all idea which way the tyres were going to slide. Engine bars saved the bike and full leathers, with useful body armour, myself. I always felt a bit of a plonker when wandering around thus dressed but the fact that I was still able to walk after a couple of falls overwhelmed any such embarrassment. January was so bad that I took the car to work, losing loads of dosh in missed overtime, but money ain't everything and I felt the cold and the damp were ageing me rapidly.
With a slightly milder February I was well glad to be back on two wheels until some complete idiot knocked me off. He came at me from the back and the side. The first I knew of the accident was being thrown through the air. I landed OK and managed to roll out of the way of the same car that'd hit me. The driver seemed determined to kill me! He stopped a hundred yards down the road but drove off when I shook my fist at him. The V50 was battered but still able to motor. The worst of the damage was a large dent in the stainless steel silencer and a creased petrol tank.
The tank later started seeping petrol and it took three attempts to find a used one that hadn't rusted through. The silencer was left alone as replacements are expensive and any kind of repair would've just made it look worse. The engine was so mildly tuned that carburation wasn’t affected. I did find a similar car parked up and did the key trick on the paint, although I might've ruined the wrong cage it’s the thought that counts.
It’s still possible to pick up a nice V50 for under a thousand notes but the vast majority are now rats worth not much more than a couple of hundred quid. When they get that far gone there's not even much that can be salvaged from them for spares - they are worn all the way out. I'll keep mine for a month then trade in for something newer.
Adrian Griffiths