I had a motorbike that took me everywhere, didn't need another one. Then the guy who sold me my first bike the venerable Honda C90 dropped by to complain nobody wanted his Suzuki TS250C, and I could afford it, and it looked more fun than the Honda CD175.
So the CD175 went to live in the garden hidden under a hedge, coming out once a year for MOT if not needed when the other wouldn't go.
I loved the way it started first or second kick after not being touched for months at a time. A custom 2 into 1 exhaust gave it an exhaust note instead of the Honda burble and it ran sweetly ever after as it lived its neglected life relegated to spare bike and moss grew on the frame and generations of spiders grew old and died amongst the spokes. The bits that needed oil were oiled and the bits that needed grease were greased but it did look abandoned and at MOT John remarked that 'someone's been looking after this on the quiet' when he could find nothing wrong.
I loved the rack which was very useful when I broke my leg to carry the crutches and a top box full of shopping made wheelies easier.
I hated the boring reliability and sheer tediousness of its stolid underwhelming basic but gutless work horse capability but that was the key to it's long term reliability being so under stressed.
I hated with a passion the designer who decided it would be a good idea to put a dog leg in the switch action between low and high beam which caused low beam to go off leaving just a pilot light lit for the time it took to coax the lever through the dog leg to reach the on position for high beam, gave me some very scary moments which seemed longer than they were.
Would I have another, maybe. It doesn't do much but it will keep doing it forever on a thimble full of petrol
The Suzuki TS250C and I had a love hate relationship.
I loved the places it took me most of all. I met lots of Devon landowners on and around Dartmoor who wondered who I was and why I was riding on their land and where I thought I was going. Almost all were most helpful once the map was produced and the line pointed to and queried, with only one person ever saying no you can't come this way it is private and he was most polite if insistent, (and correct too so I didn't go on). The TS took me up/down/over/along every track on southern Dartmoor which did not have a sign to say I could not. It proved incredibly capable. Years later when I gave some attention to Rights of Way Law and practise I was glad I had not known then what I learned as it would have diminished my pleasure as I wandered freely in the absence of signs to tell me otherwise. Looking out from the end of Fernworthy forest overlooking Teignhead farm was like looking back in time. I went to the top of the spoil heap at Red Lake where I considered taking the apparent short cut to Princetown instead of going the longer route back to tarmac the way I had come, and luckily saw the map showed the mires of Red lake, Middle, Black lane and Foxtor lay in my way. Remembering the legends of bottomless watery bogs capable of swallowing entire horse and carriage I did not feel I could safely manage the risk of the heavy steel framed bike sinking completely, (very glad I did not try that one).
I loved the motor with plenty of useable power, but hated it's short lifespan with a top end rebuild six monthly. Only an afternoons work though.
I hated the 6v lights almost as much as I hated the awful drum brakes. The lights started off awful in so far as people could see me but I could not see where I wanted to go, then something caused the engine to cut out a few seconds after the lights came on and the lights did not function when the engine died so I went at night from flashes of brightness to patches of dark flicking the switch to and fro. Comical with hindsight but still surprised I never crashed into something I had not seen coming. Night trail rides were full moon only. On a whim I went to Glastonbury festival and blagged my way in without a ticket, you could in those days. After walking for four hours through the tents I met friends who persuaded me to stay until after dark to watch Van Morrison on the main stage. The gig was great but the close encounter with a (real) badger on the way home in the dark under a full moon left a lasting impression on me and probably scared the badger even more.
I hated the drum brakes which only worked well for about a week after fitting new shoes then better forward planning became essential.
I hated the stiff short travel suspension. I climbed the Widowmaker beyond 202-039 before the invention of the mountain bike and damn near shook my fillings out on the three mile rocky climb.
I hated it's hydrophobic tendencies which could cause it to stall if a mouse took a piss in the hedge as I passed by. It did more laps of Heathfield common than I can remember and I was jealous of a DT175 owner until he drowned his bike in a puddle which left only the twistgrip sticking above water. I was even more jealous when he had it running within five mins, the TS would have sulked for a week.
I hated the way the carpet tape on the seat stuck to my bum even more than the way the water it did not keep out seeped into my trousers.
I hated even more the never ending task of repairing the latest hole in the exhaust downpipe. The U bend swelled with number of jubilee clips holding patches. Eventually I relented and went to Newton Motorcycles in Newton Abbot and asked John T to weld it up. When he had finished laughing at the rusty heap proffered I persuaded him to cut off the rot and he replaced 2" diameter tube with 1.5" diameter box section with right angle bends, and no leaks! Top speed of 85mph (allegedly) on the way there suddenly reduced to 65, but increased torque on the low to mid range came in handy. Came as quite a surprise on the first ride to drop into the roundabout outside the library and as I opened the throttle on lifting the bike back up the front wheel pawed the air so I came to steer away from the library off the roundabout and around the bend past the Saddlers on the back wheel and only grounded the front tyre on the pedestrian crossing outside of the Swan pub. Oops. Perfect for lifting the front over fallen trees, puddles or similar trail obstacles now, it a tad slower but still quite fast enough getting there.
Would not have another one though, the Rose Tinted Glasses Effect isn't that bad but I remember it with great fondness which is strange considering its many faults.
I had a CD175 and loved it from the chrome tank sides (making it look a bit like a big BSA if you squinted) to the soft easy delivery and reliability. The handling wasn't great two-up and as my then girlfriend and I used it for touring around the south west traded it in for a new CB250N Superdream.
The CB250 was a physically bigger bike with better suspension and brakes so more suited to two-up riding but the engine was awful! In typical Honda fashion it needed revs but there was a hole in the rev range between about 4,000 and 4,500 like falling off a cliff. I couldn't come to terms with it so, after six months, traded it in for a BMW R100RS which, 44 years later, I still have.
Prior to the CD175 I rode a DT175 which was my serious introduction to trail riding but, thinking I was the new Martin Lampkin, pretty much destroyed it inside two years so stripped it for restoration. Nearly fifty years later it's still in pieces and, one day, I may even finish it as it really is the near perfect trail bike (you don't need an enduro to go "two-wheeled rambling")
Cheers, John
-- Edited by John Leah on Thursday 2nd of May 2024 12:53:35 PM
For me the legendary Yamaha RD350ypvs with its on off powerband and long polished seat with minimal bolster if you was rocking your trusty shell suit you would be off the back in no time, its smell and sound was obnoxious and it liked to go straight no matter what you did to try pull it around a corner, probably due to the skinny tires( for my liking) and the boingy back end, often I would be parked in a bush or someones driveway, I mastered the art of convincing home owners I got the wrong address should they come flying out to see who was wondering around in there garden, looking for a girl called Tracy. I eventually melted the top end and managed to pick up a donor engine but ultimately I had come to love and hate it so I stole my brothers Lambretta which he hadnt used for a while and set about dropping the 350 engine into the Lambretta there was some dodgy welding to the exhaust to shorten them and the swingarm, the radiator fitted nicely in the glove box, and I had a petrol tank from a chopdown Vespa project, first test run was legendary I was pulling out of my street on a T junction and low and behold a couple two up on a vespa let me out, that was all the encouragement I needed to absolutely pin it for all its worth it was only at the next roundabout I realised the brakes wasnt bleed so well and naturally ended up in a bush, thankfully no cars was coming but the guy on the Vespa who let me out couldnt believe a scooter could go so quick!!
the Lamy350 was put in the garage to finish brakes and some throttle issues and there she has sat to this day.
Great opening post Pete
I chuckled at the challenge of where to put the crutches for broken leg riding. Reminded me of a time on the back of a mates bike, riding up Exeter high street when it was two way traffic and we got a bit squeezed between a bus and a lorry whilst sliding up the middle lane and I was foolishly carrying my crutches across the bike between rider and passenger. Not sure how I stayed on as the crutches clattered along the sides of the stationery vehicles I had only been out of hospital a week
I think my relationship with my bikes is more immediate than yours . I will forgive em any setbacks as long as they continue to move me forward but if they fail to achieve forward motion then I find my relationship changing. Not anger or hate but like a disappointed parent or teacher after all Ive done for you
So theyve all been in both categories but generally forgiven because being out there on two wheels is a kind of freedom that is essential for my well being .
Yamaha 900 Tracer - Stuck to the road like glue and handling was superb plus quick. Yamaha service was appalling, followed by water and mud behind the digital dash, rust on the rear shock, the worst fuelling I have ever had the mis pleasure of experiencing and all under 1400 miles from new. 4 months old and traded it in ! Yamaha UK didnt want to know instead telling me its the best selling bike and any old ruddish every time I contacted them. Hence I wont ever buy a Yamaha again purely for the reason that the UK division was so bad
