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August 2025

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100‚000 not out

Top end looks Triumph-like, but lower engine lacks Meriden curves. Dong Hai were fond of a knobbly tyre

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Sorry, It’s a what…?

Thankfully, Hugo decided not to do this in Rollie Free-style plimsolls and Speedos

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The Workshop: PROJECT BANTAM

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July 2025

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V-four victory

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Benelli 2C Mk2

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June 2025

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Unlikely TT race bikes

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Tough nuts cracked

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May 2025

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Soldering on

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Reshaping the Bonneville

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SKY HIGH HILLCLIMBING

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Stately pile-on

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Get up for the Kop

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Time for a T140?

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Rick’s Fixes: cold comfort in the shed

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Did this Curtiss really do over 136.36mph at Ormond Beach, Florida in 1907? Nicksy thinks not...

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A RECORD OF EXAGGERATION

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HOW TO: MAKE A JET BLOCK EXTRACTOR

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BARON’S STROKE OF BAD LUCK

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How To: Make vintage bike grips

HOW TO: RECYCLE OLD CAR PARTS

THE ISLAND’S BIGGEST DRAW

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KEEPING THE FAITH

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HOW TO: FIT AN AMAL CARB TICKLER EXTENSION

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Magazine Issues

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Miller’s marvels

Variety is the key in Classic Bike’s August issue. An orange Laverda Jota shines on the cover – it’s not a pampered piece of exotica, but a bike whose owner has enjoyed it for 42 years, putting over 100,000 miles on the clock in the process.

At the other end of the spectrum there’s a rare 1968 Dong Hai 750, made in China but rebuilt in Britain from boxes of bits by an Eastern Bloc bike lover. In between those extremes, there’s a test ride that explores the mystique of the Velocette Venom, a Honda CX500 buyer’s guide and a grin-inducing scrapbook of photos depicting oily characters from old-school bike breakers’ yards.

All this plus an event report from Dragstalgia, recent sports moped prices, magazine project updates and all the usual workshop insight. There’s a bit of something in it for everyone.

#### The August issue of Classic Bike is out now at all good newsagents, or why not :a[subscribe today and enjoy 3 issues for just £5 in our Summer sale!]{href='https://www.greatmagazines.co.uk/classic-bike-magazine?utm_source=classicbike.co.uk&amp;utm_medium=referral&amp;utm_campaign=bau_classicbike&amp;utm_content=newissue_clb' }

Bought on a whim, **Keith Prentice’s** Laverda Jota has been part of his life for 42 years. After 100,000 miles together, it’s a bond that’s too strong to break

Words **GEZ KANE** Photography **GREG MOSS & KEITH PRENTICE**

There are always big numbers involved with Laverda’s imposing three-cylinder superbike. 981cc and over 90bhp. 140mph. 250kg (551lb). But with Keith Prentice and his 1982 Series 2 Jota, the really impressive ones are 42 – the number of years he’s owned the bike – and the figure on the odometer, which reads over 100,000 miles.

What’s perhaps even more remarkable is that, over more than four decades of ownership, the Jota has never been off the road – save for essential maintenance – and it’s never been restored. Up until it chalked up its 40th birthday a couple of years back, it’s always been taxed and MoT’d. Its odometer on the Nippon Denso speedo clicked round to read zero for the second time in the bike’s life just a few weeks back. I guess Keith must like his bike a bit.

“I love it,” he smiles. “Luckily, I’ve never been in a position where I’ve needed to sell it. If anyone asks what it’s worth or what I’d sell it for, I tell them £50,000. I always say I’ll be buried with it. I love riding it, I love the attention it gets when I’m out on it and I still love the look of it. It’s not perfect and it’s not 100% catalogue correct, but it’s how I want it to be.”

Keith’s long-term passion for the Breganze machines has led to him being chairman of the International Laverda Owners Club (ILOC), but he was already a Lav fan when chance brought him and this Jota together back in 1983. “I’d already bought my first

Laverda – a Montjuic – and loved it,” he recalls. “I lived in Dartford and a mate was going over to Moto Vecchia in Colliers Wood to test ride a Morini 31/2, so I went with him. While he was out on the 31/2, I spotted a Jota in the showroom – and cheekily asked if I could have a road test. The salesman’s first response was a fairly blunt ‘No’ – but when I gestured outside at my Monjuic, that soon turned into ‘Certainly sir’. I rode it and that was that. I had to have it. I wasn’t looking for a new bike... honest.”

The Series 2 model Keith bought is considered by many ‘Jotisti’ as the best of the 180˚ crank ‘real’ Jotas. With a hydraulic clutch, the ignition moved to the left-hand end of the crank and a three-phase 210W Nippon Denso alternator, the Series 2 is the ultimate development of the original 180 concept. And what an enduring concept that proved to be. After all that time and all those miles, Keith’s bike still wears its original Jota orange paintwork with just a very few marks of long-term use. The frame has never been refinished, just touched-up as required. It even has the original ‘silencers’ that give the bike its fearsome voice.

The Jota has had a few moments, though. “When I bought the bike, there was a hairline crack in the clutch cover. Apparently, it’s down to poor design that allows clutch fluid to get in behind the piston insert for the hydraulic clutch. It’s the build-up of pressure as the clutch operates which cracks the case. I’m on my third case now, although these days you can get modified cases that solve the problem.

“A couple of years later, it started dropping out of fifth gear under load. With all the confidence of youth, I stripped the engine and gearbox down and discovered worn engagement dogs. A new pinion cured that and, touch wood, it’s been fine since. A couple of years after that – 1987, I think – the centre main bearing needed replacing. The 1979 models with ball-race centre mains were known to be troublesome, but I think my issues were just bad luck. Rebuilding the pressed-up crank was beyond my abilities, so I took it to legendary Laverda specialist Phil Todd at Motodd to sort out.

“After that, I had no real problems until the late 2000s, when the engine started to burn oil. I took the head off and took it to a local engineering firm – who told me they had plenty of experience with Laverdas – to fit new valve guides. Two years later, though, it was just as bad. This time I took the whole engine to Keith Nairn at Laverda Scozia. When he turned the head upside down, two of the valve guides fell out. There was damage to the bores as well, so he supplied new pistons and rebored the barrels to first oversize. The crank was also slightly out of alignment – I’d never noticed any undue vibration – so he sorted that too.”

> ‘I once did 800 miles in a day on it, riding back from the South of France’

All other tinkering has been due to minor issues rather than meaty problems. “I replaced the original Bosch ignition with a Sachse unit years ago – and when the pick-ups on that eventually failed last summer, I fitted an Ignitech system. So far, so good. The front mudguard is an aftermarket item – the originals were very prone to splitting, and mine did. Obviously, the twin-headlight fairing is non-standard too. My bike was originally supplied naked, but I got this one fitted in 1983 at a place called JP Customs, I think. I took the bike for a fitting and they offered up various styles of fairing before I decided on this one. They made a bespoke mounting bracket for it and sorted all the wiring. I think the indicators are from a Datsun Cherry.”

Keith has replaced the original clutch master cylinder with a smaller-bore 13mm Brembo unit (the original is 15mm) to provide a lighter lever action, and replaced the front brake master cylinder to match it. But other than that, his Jota is almost startlingly unchanged from the bike he rode home all those years ago.

The front brake discs are nearing minimum thickness and due to be replaced – hardly surprising, as they’re the originals. So are the calipers. The fork stanchions have never been rechromed, the sliders have never been painted, and the seals have only been replaced once.

The wheels still wear their original factory paint too, with only one set of bearings having been replaced – the rears in 2018. After rotting out, the exhaust collector box has been replaced by a stainless steel Keihan part, but the downpipes are still the originals (rechromed at the end of 2023). Even the seat cover and base are original – Viking Seats replaced the foam in 2014, but carefully refitted the factory cover.

Keith is rightly proud of his Jota, but this doesn’t mean it’s led a cosseted life. Far from it. As is only fitting for the chairman of the owners’ club, he’s put the bike to good use. “I’ve been all over on it,” he says. “When I first had it, it was my everyday transport. When I got married and had a family I didn’t get to use it as much, but I still kept my hand in when I could. Since I packed in work in 2017 though, I’ve been able to get out on it lots more. I used to do the UK National Road Rally, I’ve ridden it at Shelsley Walsh and loads of UK ILOC (:a[iloc.co.uk]{href='https://iloc.co.uk' }) runs and rallies. Being a member of the club has really expanded my enjoyment of all my Laverdas. I ride with the French and Belgian Laverda clubs regularly, too – and once covered 800 miles in day, returning home from an event in the South of France. I got to my planned overnight hotel to find it locked up and in darkness, so just pressed on all the way.”

There was also a curious reaction to Keith’s big, orange Jota. “I was riding through the Kennedy Tunnel near Antwerp in Belgium with a mate on another Laverda,” he recalls. “A car pulled alongside me and the passenger wound down the window and threw a cabbage at me. Maybe it’s some sort of Belgian greeting...”

In all the 100,000 miles Keith and his big triple have been together, only one other person has ever ridden it (apart, perhaps, from a brief mechanic’s test ride after the engine work). “I let a mate called Malcolm Smith – no, not that one – from the local bike club have a quick spin in the early ’80s,” he reveals. But now he’s trusting me to take his baby out near his North Dorset home. “You’re only the second person apart from me to ride it,” he cheerfully reminds me. No pressure then...

Easing through town, that modified clutch is certainly welcome. Keeping the revs low enough to attract only admiring glances rather than disapproving glares, the Jota feels in superb fettle. I’d never guess it was a 100,000-mile veteran. But it’s when I get to the swoops and curves of the A30 that the Jota really shows what a special machine it is. There’s no way this bike feels its age – and that’s testament to both the original design and the care and attention Keith has lavished on it over the last 40 or so years.

Get the engine spinning above 4000rpm and it delivers what you desire and expect of the big triple, as it hurls itself forward on a wave of midrange torque. Get above 6000rpm and there’s another step up as those 4C cams, unrestrictive Jota silencers and 32mm carbs do their thing. There’s no doubt that the Laverda is a big bike, but its bulk melts away as it arcs through flowing bends and despatches the Dorset topography with just a tease of the throttle. And the noise is nothing short of epic. Laverda – with a little help from UK concessionaires the Slater brothers – certainly got it right with the Jota.

Picking faults is pointless. Sure, the twin front discs need a good, hard squeeze to really do their thing, but it’s par for the course on an early ’80s muscle bike. Changing direction swiftly in low-speed corners requires a bit of effort too, but this is all part of the glorious Jota experience – and on fast, sweeping roads the Laverda is in its element. I can see why Keith has enjoyed every moment and why the idea of parting with it has never crossed his mind.

My morning’s ride disappears in a blur. This is a truly great bike, and I feel more than a prick of jealousy as I head back to Keith’s house to reluctantly hand back his pride and joy. Fast, exciting, engaging and compelling – and delivering that delicious, haunting three-cylinder soundtrack – I’ve enjoyed every minute on this bike. And nobody threw a cabbage at me.

#### **SPECIFICATION: 1982 LAVERDA JOTA SERIES 2**

“I really wouldn’t be without this. I bought it on Gumtree about eight years ago and only paid £80 for it. It’s old – from 1984 in fact – and made in Taiwan, but it’s a solid, well-made piece of kit. It’ll take bits up to 5/8 in (about 15mm) so it’ll handle most jobs on a bike. I use it all the time, no more wonky holes for me.”

“Another invaluable tool for working on old bikes. When you need an impact driver, you need it. It’s great for freeing off stubborn fasteners and loosening fork damper rod bolts without them just spinning in the fork bottom. As it’s electric, you don’t need a compressor like you would with an air gun. I think it only cost around £50-60.”

“This is really simple – but so useful. I made it up ages ago. It’s just a 12-volt bulb with a couple of wires attached. I use it to find what’s live and what isn’t as I work through electrical issues methodically and locate where the problem is. I was an electrical engineer by trade, so I suppose I should be good at sorting electrics.”

:a[Head into stores to grab your latest issue, or why not subscribe to Classic Bike and enjoy 3 issues for just £5! What are you waiting for?]{href='https://www.greatmagazines.co.uk/classic-bike-magazine?utm_source=classicbike.co.uk&amp;utm_medium=referral&amp;utm_campaign=bau_classicbike&amp;utm_content=article' target='_blank' rel='noreferrer noopener'}

Looks like a familiar twin, but this is a **Dong Hai 750** – the Chinesebuilt parallel motor with more than a little British influence

Words **MICK DUCKWORTH** Photography **GREG MOSS**

**T**here are loads of Chinese-made motorcycles on our roads today, but for anyone with an eye for a classic, not much of interest. Unless you come across Peter Wright and his 1968 750cc Dong Hai on the lanes of rural Norfolk. Not interested in mainstream bikes – and having always enjoyed the challenge of making Eastern Bloc machines reliable – Peter took on a mammoth job when he swapped a Soviet 650cc Dnepr MT11 flat twin for this parallel twin from even further East with a fellow member of the Cossack OC.

“I got two and a half bikes partly dismantled and in a pretty rough state, knowing that spares aren’t available,” Peter says.

According to available information, the Dong Hai was manufactured from 1968 until 1985 at a factory in Shanghai. Made for the military and primarily for sidecar use, it has an ohv 745cc (78 x 78mm) engine in a heavyweight chassis and provided a modernised replacement for the 750cc BMW-copy side-valve flat twin used by the People’s Liberation Army from the mid-1950s. (The Dong Hai didn’t fully replace the archaic design; it survived for decades, being available in the UK as the Chang Jiang CJ750 until defeated by emissions rules 10 years ago.)

An estimated 20,000 Dong Hai vertical twins are thought to have been produced, many shipped to Albania and Vietnam. A few, probably fewer than 100, were imported as the SM750 model to Germany in the 1980s and sold in civilian colours, but Peter opted for a military olive green finish.

> _‘I got two and a half bikes in a pretty rough state, knowing spares aren’t available’_

“It’s rare, but the wrong sort of rare,” he quips, acknowledging that this does not rank among the most desirable classics. As a former Triumph owner, he was struck by the upper part of the Dong Hai engine’s visual similarity with Meriden twins and triples. And as he began turning his three rough engines into one good one, he found some strong internal likenesses. As on most Meriden twins, the 360° crankshaft has a bolted-on central flywheel and carries I-section alloy connecting rods (Peter also has a spare crank with steel rods) on plain shell big ends. Like Triumph’s 1959-1968 350cc and 500cc twins, it has a plain timing-side main bearing but with shells rather than a bush. The valve gear layout is also Triumph-like with two camshafts in the upper crankcase, but they run in much more substantial phosphor-bronze bushes on the left side, where they are driven from the crankshaft by timing gears. The pushrods enclosed in tubes outside the cylinder barrel operate rockers with tappet adjusters accessed by removing cover plates. While similar in appearance to a Triumph item, the cylinder head is held down by eight bolts, where a Meriden 750 has ten.

The dry sump lubrication system’s twin-plunger oil pump, driven off the inlet camshaft, mimics that used by Ariel from 1929 and Triumph until 1985. Noting different top-end oiling systems on his engines, Peter chose a direct feed to the rocker boxes from the timing chest rather than the usual British method of a branch off the return line to the tank. He didn’t fit oil pressure and warning light switches found among the parts.

The Shanghai factory clearly studied Triumph design, not surprising since the brand was a world leader in the late 1960s and Britain had strong trading links with Shanghai prior to the 1967 Cultural Revolution. “All the alloy and castings look well-made and of good quality,” Peter says. “The only real problem I had building the engine was with the big end and main bearing shells but a local friend, Trevor Walker of TWM Engineering \[01692 582850\] and his computer came up trumps. He found that Renault 8 car main bearing shells would match reground journals.” Having only a carburettor with a broken body in his cache of parts, Peter substituted a similar Russian K302 type, fitting a K&N air filter.

Apart from the crankshaft, the lower part of the engine owes more to European than British tradition and certainly lacks the curvy looks of classic Triumph castings. Primary drive is by straight-cut gears and the teeth on the clutch outer drum take drive from the starter motor. The primary casing shares oil with the four-speed gearbox, which has a drum-type selector mechanism operated from a heel-and-toe pedal. A kick-starter is on the left side of the box.

Charging for the 12V battery is by an alternator mounted in the timing cover (as on a Triumph Trident), with a peg drive off the end of the crankshaft that allows it to be easily removed. The ignition points are under a cover at the leftward end of the exhaust camshaft and a double-ended coil is mounted ahead of the cylinder block.

Looking more BSA than Triumph at a glance, the duplex frame is extremely weighty with large-diameter tubing, some slightly oval-section, and has a similarly sturdy swingarm. The rear shocks, taken from Peter’s spares store, have bare springs where the original Girling lookalikes were fully shrouded. Heavily mudguarded 17in wheels are shod with wide, deeply treaded Mitas tyres. The drum brakes look weatherproof and there is a crossover rod and cable arrangement to operate the rear brake from the left pedal. A pressed steel cover encloses the final drive chain, with a flexible bellows joint where it meets the rear of the gearbox. Useful fuel range is promised by the capacious and shapely 25-litre (5.5 UK gallon) tank, which needed some holes filled before painting.

Short of a seat, Peter found one made by aftermarket brand Two Four at an autojumble and made it fit; a Cossack logo at the rear doesn’t bother him. To use original silencers, silver heat-proof paint was applied to damaged surfaces unsuitable for plating. There is a similar matt finish on the raised and swept-back handlebars, which carry a switch unit including a neat click-ring headlight dipper inboard of the left grip. Lacking a battery cover side panel, Peter used a pressing from a 175cc CZ that doesn’t look out of place. Finding the original massive rectangular rear light ugly, he replaced it with a neater Chiang Jiang unit and fitted a rear-view mirror.

The Cossack OC, of which Peter has been a member for 30 years, obtained an age-related registration from the DVLA to get him road legal. When the completed machine was first started, smoke started issuing from under the fuel tank. Concluding that it wasn’t from leaking oil, Peter decided there was a problem with the regulator/rectifier unit. A maintenance technician for a leading potato brand with no fear of electrical systems, he obtained a Yamaha XS650 unit as he knew the alternator was of a similar type to the Dong Hai’s. He mounted it under the headlamp with its heat sink in the air stream.

Once on the road, Peter has encountered some minor glitches with carburation and ignition, but he has always relished a technical challenge with unorthodox machinery.

**Hugo Wilson** takes the Chinese 750 for a trundle

First impressions? It’s heavy. And it’s tall. Heaving the Dong Hai off its centrestand is a nervously precarious exercise. The ignition key is under the headstock, and without the electric starter connected it needs to be kickstarted; for me, on a bike with a left hand kick-start, that means standing alongside the bike and using my right leg. Fortunately, the low-compression engine turns over easily and fires straight away. The exhaust note has the even pulses of a 360° crankshaft and is well muffled.

Astride the bike I’m on tiptoes, but the wide bars and spacious stance make it easy to ride. The rocking heel and toe shift pedal for the four-speed gearbox is on the left, with an unusual neutral below first, heelfordown-t-oe--for-up pattern that I never get used to on this brief ride.

The low-speed manoeuvrability is good – partly helped by those wide bars and the low gearing – and while you can feel vibration at low revs it is never really intrusive and actually seems to reduce as engine revs rise.

The combination of a small carburettor and heavy flywheels ensure that speed builds slowly, and progress is sedate. The speedo wasn’t working, but it feels like not much more than 30bhp, and 50-55mph cruising. On these Norfolk lanes – and in deference to an engine that’d only done 50 miles since a rebuild – that felt fine.

Once you are up to speed, the handling is a bit vague – maybe it’s those chunky tyres, the forks are a bit clunky, and you need to use both brakes to slow the substantial mass of the machine.

Now, to get it back onto the centrestand. Er… can you give me a hand?

#### **SPECIFICATION: 1968 DONG HAI 750**

After two and a half years (and eight instalments) this BSA has been transformed from a bare chassis into an approximately functional bike. It’s been a learning experience

The Bantam flies (well, sort of). I’m hazarding a guess at 50mph, because the speedo is still broken – but on its latest 30-mile test ride it felt crisp. And the lights work too. Wonders never cease...

After a winter spent fixing the centrestand, plugging fuel tank leaks and fitting a new clutch cable, handlebar grips and finally the original exhaust, I had high hopes for springtime entertainment. But at first the little BSA didn’t want to play.

The first test ride of a freshly-fettled bike is always an event full of trepidation, so when the Bantam broke down after 15 minutes it wasn’t a total surprise. Fortunately, it had the grace to coast to a halt outside a pub. It’s important to approach fault-finding in the correct frame of mind, so rather than faff around looking for a spark, I headed to the bar and enjoyed a pint. This was clearly the correct thing to do, as once the bike had cooled off and I’d downed the beer it restarted easily. I took the short way home.

Hoping that it might fix itself, I left it alone for a month before trying again. Same deal, but sadly no convenient pub. It would start easily from cold, run for 15 minutes and then die. Coil? I left it another month and then investigated...

Electrics definitely aren’t my strong suit, but I’ve adopted a new attitude – instead of fruitlessly trying to understand the tricky concepts of electro-magnetic fields, primary windings and alternating currents, I just ignore the theory but follow the instructions about what I’m supposed to check and how I’m supposed to check it. This approach gave me the naïve confidence to make the wiring loom for the Bantam.

Before checking the coil, I watched a couple of mildly confusing YouTube videos and read the technical information on the Electrex World website. I then tested the resistance on the coil’s primary and secondary windings with my multimeter. In this case they’re meant to be one ohm on the primary and around 4.5 ohms on the secondary. All seemed correct, but the test was done with the coil cold, so it wasn’t conclusive.

Electrex World, who’d supplied the alternator/CDI set-up that I’m using on the Bantam, agreed that the readings were right and suggested further tests of the alternator. These confirmed the coil as the chief suspect. Sadly, it was well outside its one-year warranty.

With a new coil fitted, normal service was resumed. ‘Normal service’ being slightly lumpy low-speed running, but with a revvy top end; under load, it pulls strongly and keeps accelerating in top gear on my local test hill. I think it’d comfortably pull taller gearing, maybe one more tooth on the front sprocket for increased speed and a more relaxed ride.

I adjusted the idle and air screws, which gave a marginal improvement to low-speed running. Then I started to play about with the ignition timing. This is easy to adjust on the early Bantams, with the ignition stator plate being fixed by three screws that are accessible on the side of the engine. Try it one way, test it, then try it the other and test it again. Then put it back to what it was in the first place. It seemed that advancing the ignition slightly seemed to make it a bit smoother.

In truth, I think that the low-speed lumpiness is down to a mismatch between the original exhaust with teardrop silencer that was intended for a 3.5bhp 125, and the later 175 engine fitted to the bike. Given that it goes very nicely at the top end – and the exhaust looks great – I think that’s a compromise worth living with.

> ‘Fired with enthusiasm, I extended my test ride. At this point the bike stopped’

Fired with enthusiasm, I extended my test ride. Obviously, at this point the bike stopped. I feared the worst after previous coil-related difficulties, but the problem appeared to be the fuel supply. You’re already ahead of me – it’d run out of petrol.

Lying the bike on its side transferred the last dregs of petrol to the fuel-tap side of the tank, after which it agreed to be restarted and got me to within half a mile of the petrol station. Thankfully, the Bantam is very easy to push. Topped up with fresh fuel (and two-stroke oil) it chirped away happily once again.

So now the Bantam is in a typical magazine-project state – not quite finished. It needs paint and pinstripes, the speedo needs fixing, the original chainguard needs fitting, there is a slight fuel leak and a new battery might be a good idea. Raising the gearing would be good, too. But most of all it needs more use to iron out any other bugs. I’m not going to do that, though. It feels like we’ve saved the bike, so rather than have it clutter a lock-up, it’s now time for someone else to do the finishing touches and to use it. Could that be you? If so, it’s yours for £1650ono – send an email to :a[letters@classicbike.co.uk]{href='mailto:letters@classicbike.co.uk' } if you are interested in buying it.

And even if you don’t want this one, I can recommend a Bantam as a project; they’re simple, with good parts supply, a lovely owners’ club and they qualify you for entry to lots of fantastic events.

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The July issue of Classic Bike gets sporty with a first-year Suzuki GSX-R750 that escaped the scrapyard to become a fine example of the breed after a 17-year restoration – and there’s a twist in the tale for the owner. Much less preparation went into Editor Hugo’s £750 Honda VFR, but he planned to take it to Northern Ireland to see the North West 200 anyway – find out if he made it in the magazine. With many British bikes becoming more affordable, the buying guide on unit-construction Bonnevilles could help you buy a bargain. There’s also a revealing interview with notorious prankster and former team-mate of Barry Sheene, Steve Parrish. Along with the usual stack of workshop insights and projects, it’s the perfect summertime reading material for classic bike lovers.

#### The July issue of Classic Bike is out now at all good newsagents, or why not :a[subscribe today and never miss an issue!]{href='https://www.greatmagazines.co.uk/classic-bike-magazine?utm_source=classicbike.co.uk&amp;utm_medium=referral&amp;utm_campaign=bau_classicbike&amp;utm_content=newissue_clb' }

#### To Ireland and the **North West 200** on a grotty £750 Honda? What could possibly go wrong? Not much actually...

Words **HUGO WILSON** Photography **HUGO WILSON & IMPACT IMAGES**

###### **One for the VFR £750’s holiday album: Outside the paddock at the North West 200, Friday May 9, 2025**

At a glance, and nicely illuminated by the early morning sunlight and a blue sky, this 1994 Honda VFR750F looks pretty decent. These sports tourers were always good looking; the bodywork’s curves, ducts and bulges look great in red and are nicely set off by black wheels and belly pan, while the frame and single-sided swingarm in bare aluminium suggest purposeful, quality engineering.

Look closely and things aren’t quite so rosy. Every one of the body panels on this 43,000-mile, 31-year-old machine is scuffed, or cracked or both. There’s peeling paint on the engine cases, rust on the painted steel, corrosion on the rear hub and fork sliders, missing fasteners, a mottled plastic chainguard, chipped paint on the wheels, a sun-crazed screen and a misfitting exhaust system. Still, it got me here.

We’re at sunny Port Stewart on the north coast of Northern Ireland, outside the paddock for the North West 200, having made a pilgrimage of 375-ish miles from the English Midlands to one of the fastest and most historic road races in the world.

Apparently the NACA duct, with its distinctive flared shape, was developed by the US National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics in 1945, though most of us weren’t aware of them until Lamborghini put them on the side of the Countach supercar in 1974. The idea is to get maximum airflow into the duct, with minimum disturbance to flow around the fairing. How relevant this is when the duct isn’t really connected to anything is moot, but they look ace.

The NW200 takes place in the shadow of the Isle of Man TT, but is remarkable in its own way. According to the race’s website, it’s Ireland’s largest outdoor sporting event and attracts 150,000 spectators. It’s fast, too. The quickest recorded lap is 127.63mph, recorded by Tom Herron in 1977. Sadly, he died here two years later.

Chicanes have since reduced average speeds on the 8.9-mile course, though it’s creeping upwards. Last year, Glenn Irwin lapped in 4:16.433, for an average speed of 125.928mph. But that’s not the whole story. With long straights, slipstreaming is critical to fast times. At this year’s races, the draft from other racers helped Dean Harrison to blast through the speed trap at a record-setting 209mph on the factory Honda superbike – that’s motoring.

> ‘We did a few laps of the course, watched the racing and enjoyed the coast road’

###### **Joey on a red Honda at York Corner in 1998 (we think). It’s not a V4, but an NSR500V two-stroke twin. If you know more, write and tell us.**

Our North West pilgrimage plan was conceived late, but a VFR felt like the right bike to take. An easy-going sports tourer is ideal for the A1-M6-A75 journey to the ferry port in Scotland, but the racing heritage of Honda’s V4s is a huge part of the appeal. On the roads, that pedigree started at the North West 200 in 1983, when Joey Dunlop was timed at 171mph and won the Superbike race on the new RS850. He followed that up at the TT with the first of 16 consecutive Formula One TT victories for Honda V4 racers. They continued to do well at the North West too, with nine Superbike wins (four of them for Joey) between 1983 and 1998.

That 1983 Isle of Man win was popularised by the film _V4 Victory_. It was our first real exposure to onboard TT laps, the flat drone of a V4 engine at peak revs – and to Joey Dunlop. We watched the Duke Video VHS tapes until they disintegrated. Best put a visit to Joey’s Bar – at Ballymoney, a stone’s throw from the NW200 course – on the itinerary for this trip too.

###### **Hugo’s VFR750F outside Joey’s Bar**

The VFR was bought last year, sight unseen, for £750 (_CB_ September 2024). That sounds cheap – but once I’d actually inspected the bike, it felt like I’d paid too much. Its condition is testament to the damage that one neglectful owner can wreak. With new tyres it passed an MoT, but then its reg/rec malfunctioned – ‘They all do that, sir’ – taking the battery with it. With that repaired, I had to accept that it needed new discs and a brake caliper overhaul to make it rideable.

So, after spending a further £750 (tyres, discs, caliper rebuild kit, rec/rec, battery, fluids, secondhand seat), I had a bike that had baggy suspension, woolly carburation, a not very nice clutch and which looked like the unloved runt that it was. It did a few miles on local roads before I parked it in a lock-up for the winter and tried to forget about it. Six months later the NW200 plan was hatched.

###### **Hugo on a slightly less rapid red Honda than Joey’s at York corner in 2025**

After hibernation, the bike was reluctant to start until I’d drained the float bowls of stale fuel. The hydraulic fluid needed topping up before the clutch would work; there was no sign of a leak, so I’m not sure where it went. Ditto the missing engine coolant. The tyres needed air, while the throttle-return mechanism and locks got a light dose of WD40.

With the fluids refreshed, I rode it 10 miles to seek reassurance from Gary Hurd (aka Grumpy), _CB_’s friendly local bike mechanic. Gary wandered around the bike to pass judgement. He pointed out that the rusty fork legs would shortly be taking out the oil seals, advising me to “Take some rag and wipe them down each time you make a stop, to prevent it getting onto the brakes’. He also oiled the chain. Good idea.

Finally, he shrugged his shoulders and asked me: “Have you got recovery insurance?”

###### **Crack maintenance squad in action. The VFR’s missing centrestand makes chain lubrication a two-man job**

My friend Keith was more reassuring: “It’s a Honda; you’ll be fine”. But I was still plagued with doubts, envisaging the journey ending up in the back of an AA van – or in flames on the hard shoulder of the M6.

With a full tank of petrol (Shell V-Power Unleaded – ‘Removes up to 100% of performance-robbing deposits’ they meaninglessly claim) and an anxious knot in my stomach, we rolled onto the A1, heading north towards the Cairnryan to Belfast ferry. Then, against all my expectations, we didn’t stop until refuelling at Penrith, 200 miles later.

On that sunny afternoon, the VFR bopped along at an indicated 70... 75... 80... 85 and occasionally 90mph without drama. At 6000rpm the speedo reads 85mph, with another 5500 to the redline, so it wasn’t working very hard. It was as comfy as I’d hoped too, with a natural riding position that only made me get fidgety after a couple of hours.

Winter spent in a lock-up hadn’t improved the carburation, there’s a stutter around 3000rpm – probably caused by dirt in a jet that Shell’s V-Power hasn’t managed to shift. The suspension is still baggy too. Neither faults caused a problem on the speedy and straight roads between Peterborough and Penrith.

###### **Joey at Church Corner on the Honda Britain RVF750 RC45 in 1998**

The next morning, we rode the more challenging twists and turns of the A75 from Gretna to the ferry port at Cairnryan. Sure, the suspension damping has gone AWOL, but on Dunlop Sportmax tyres the steering is lovely – it has that reassuring Honda feel of stable, but low-input handling. That made me start to wonder what it would feel like with a new rear shock absorber and rebuilt forks...

As long as it was rolling, with the revs in the midrange, I didn’t notice the carburation issues either. There was plenty of punchy performance to blast past the trucks and traffic on the journey. My fantasties turned to carburettor rebuild kits... but the view from the rider’s seat of the sun-crazed screen and scuffed-up top yoke brought me back to reality. Sorting the suspension and carburation won’t make it look better.

In the queue for the ferry, the VFR was the oldest bike. No one gave it a second look amongst the 21st century machinery, but I was deeply impressed. Surely we don’t really need much more than this. Joey’s Bar at Ballymoney is 50 miles north of Belfast port, and there were race fans outside enjoying the sunshine when we pulled up to take a picture. Inside, I enjoyed a half pint of Guiness – and the fact that Joey’s 1988 VFR750 is in a glass case in the back room. Admittedly, it’s the VFR750R (aka RC30) but it’s still a VFR.

###### **In the queue to board the ferry home at Belfast, VFR was the oldest bike in the line**

Obviously we did a couple of laps of the course, took that photo at the paddock, watched the racing and enjoyed the famous Northern Ireland coast road.

Maintenance? It hadn’t used any oil, the coolant was still up the mark, so we oiled the chain, replaced a missing fairing fastener with a zip tie and then rode home again. V-Four Victory? I think so. And of course, now we’ve bonded I’m contemplating showering love on the old girl. Full restoration? She certainly deserves it.

First run in 1929, the North West 200 has evolved into one of the fastest road races in the world. The 8.9-mile Triangle Course connects the coastal villages of Portstewart and Portrush with the town of Coleraine.

The coast road, on which the pits and paddock are situated, is undulating with fast curves. The straight connecting Coleraine with Portrush is now slowed with two chicanes. The straight connecting Portstewart with Coleraine doesn’t have chicanes – and that’s where the speed trap is situated.

The original course included a blast along Portstewart’s sea front promenade, but that was omitted after 1971. A traditional early May date means that teams and riders treat this as a warm-up for the TT, which starts later in the month. This year’s superbike races were a tussle between local hero Michael Dunlop and his rivals Peter Hickman, Davey Todd and Dean Harrison. Dunlop controversially won Saturday’s first Superbike race, pulling off an astonishing ride to beat Davey Todd after overshooting the braking point at Mather’s Chicane on the opening lap. Dunlop failed to put his foot down in the stop box as required, but was awarded the win anyway. Hickman, who finished third, boycotted the podium ceremony afterwards in protest. The second Superbike race was won by Todd, with Harrison second. **:a[northwest200.org]{href='https://northwest200.org' }**

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#### Flashback to California in the ’70s – a time of pre-unit Triumphs and barefoot bike building

###### **Andy larking about on his Triumph bobber 55 years ago**

I was surprised to see the Catalina Grand Prix sticker on the very nice Britsteel pre-unit Triumph in ‘Rick Rides’ in your wonderful April issue. I have one on my Mountain Cub to acknowledge their domination of the lightweight class back in the day. Your article also reminded me of my own ’52 Triumph bobber, which I owned 55 years ago.

The late ’60s/early ’70s was a wonderful era – motorcycles were available here in the States for reasonable prices for us youngsters, as were sport cars such as MGs, Austin Healeys and others. I traded a Honda 305 Super Hawk for a Morris Traveller, which l later traded for the ’52 Triumph. The crankshaft was broken – one of the crankpins at the flywheel. I used a unit motor to replace most of the internals and recall having the crankcase machined to accept one of the main bearings. I was a teenager and didn’t know better – but it ran very well!

###### **His friend Stephen doing a bit of bike fettling, ’70s California style**

My friend Stephen Burg didn’t think twice about installing a 650 twin in a frame we found – he had no idea what it was. The bike was built with hand-made intake manifolds, Cub forks, a Harley-Davidson rear wheel rim, and the oil tank was incorporated into the fuel tank. He was an extremely talented fitter and mechanic. Another friend installed Montesa forks, seat and tank on his ’56 650.

I went to a technical college before my first job, at a BSA dealership, followed by a period of being a technician on rotaries. I was on a team that built a car which won a national championship, winning every race in the series save one – of course, the rules changed after that! This was followed by a 30-year career as a machinist/millwright, producing parts for turbines. But I’ll never forget those carefree days of messing around with old Triumphs.

**Andrew Granovsky, Ventura, California**

The 1970s may have been the era when Japan’s two-stroke 250s caught the imagination of a generation of young Learner riders – but other options were available from closer to home

Words **RICK PARKINGTON** Photography **GARY MARGERUM**

###### **The Elettronica added a dash of Italian panache to the 250 stroker screamer pack. Did Rick click with it?**

**E**ven as a child, I didn’t like the ’70s. All the grown-up stuff about three-day weeks and Ireland’s ‘Troubles’ sounded grim and I couldn’t see how ugly, angular beige cars or avocado bathroom suites made up for it. But if there was light shining in that tunnel it came from the elevation of the 250cc two-stroke twin from the drudgery of life as an economy commuter to the glamour of L-plate mania and beyond. I’m really enjoying getting to know the Mediterranean beauty you see on these pages – but maybe that’s a bad way to put it, because this kind of bike doesn’t really take much learning.

Choke is generally needed for starting, except when very warm – it’s operated by a lever on the left carb, so it’s important not to forget to flip it off once underway. While there’s no electric start, typically for a two-stroke twin it’s very easy to kick over and sits happily burbling away until you’re ready to go. Once underway, you can just get on and enjoy it because, being Italian, it handles well. Also, as with Triumphs of the time, you get surprisingly good brakes because the scale of local industry only allowed for one product not a range of descending prices; so here you get a Brembo disc that’s much better than those on other contemporary 250s.

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