Originally Published in On the Level, the magazine of the BMW Riders Association.
If I were a normal person, I would only want a modern motorcycle. They stop, accelerate, shift, and most importantly, start with robotic precision.
And yet, here I am, perusing eBay for Suzuki Titans, Kawasaki Mach IIIs, Hodaka Super Rats, and other leaky and unreliable icons of my youth.
“What have you been doing on your computer for the last three hours?” my wife asks, hoping that I am hard at work advancing my literary career, learning a new language, or reading the Classics. You know, something of actual value. “Oh, nothing!” I say as I put in another bid on a 1970 Yamaha DT 250. “RWP (Ran When Parked)!” the ad proclaims. It was parked, of course, in 1974, uncovered, next to the ocean. A lot can happen to a stationary motorcycle in five decades, most of them bad. Yet, I remain optimistic.
In my defense, I would say there are only 30-40 motorcycles I need to own before I die. Or maybe 50. Certainly, no more than that. For now. So here, in a characteristically irrational order, is my list of bikes I should never own. But probably will.
1968 Yamaha DT1 250: There was a period in my early teens when I proceeded through motorcycles in 10 cc increments. I had a Honda CT-70, an 80 cc Yamaha YGS1, a 90 cc Yamaha HT-1 (see photo), and a 100 cc Yamaha LT2, in succession. Suffice it to say that the resulting jump in power was noticed only in my adolescent imagination, and was roughly equivalent to a mild tailwind. Of course, this didn’t stop me from telling my friends, at every step of the journey, that each new bike was “tearing my arms off.” Through it all, what I really wanted was a Yamaha DT1 250, which may actually have torn my spindly arms off. So now, of course, I must have one, to test the theory.
Honda CB400F: I love all the SOHC (single overhead cam) Honda fours from the ‘70s. It’s a disease that I have. But I’ve never owned one of these little Swiss watches. The CB400F is not known for power (just 37 hp) or top speed (98 mph, chin on the tank), but it’s a sweety when it comes to getting your daily dose in the twisties. Plus, the chromed, four-into-one exhaust has this metallic left/right swagger that gets my juvenile attention faster than a beach bikini. In blue, please.
Triumph Tiger Cub: This 200 cc bike, introduced in 1954, is widely acknowledged as one of the world’s worst motorcycles. So of course I must have one. The bottom end is as fragile as a spring flower, and the cam chain has the tensile strength of stout dental floss. But for all that, it has perfect proportions, like a Bonneville that was left in the dryer too long. Plus, with a tailwind, it will reach almost 70 mph before it blows up!
BMW R75/5: I own a 1978 Slash 7, so obviously, I need something older, and slower, with worse brakes. I’m sure you can see my logic.
Anything with a Windjammer fairing: There is a world in which I will strap a sleeping bag on the back of a Honda CB750 and ride from California to my Connecticut hometown, pay 60 cents per gallon of gas, and camp in the yard of a welcoming country farmer whose wife will serve me pancakes in the morning before sending me on my way with a hard-boiled egg and a sandwich in a wax paper bag. Never mind that this world doesn’t exist—I’m gonna try to find it. But to do this, I have to obtain a 1972 SOHC Honda with a period Windjammer fairing to keep the wind and bugs at bay. The Windjammer even has a small compartment where I can keep things like patchouli oil and, well, you know. Trust me, it will be groovy.
Rat bike chopper: I like motorcycles that are reliable, handle well, and stop with efficiency and force. I also like rat bike choppers, so go figure. In my view, the archetypal rat is powered by a Harley-Davidson Pan- or Knucklehead engine from the ‘40s or ‘50s. Here are some of the features that make these bikes uniquely unsuitable for actual riding: a king-and-queen seat with sissy bar, upswept fishtail exhaust (no mufflers, please), highway pegs, springer fork with (naturally) no front brake, and a peanut tank supplying a range of almost 50 miles. The best examples have a harness that’s bodged together with household wire nuts, and pennies installed in place of any troublesome fuses. Paint optional. What would I do with such a motorcycle? I have no idea. But you can bet I won’t wear my Hi-Viz Aerostich while riding it.
1999 Suzuki Hayabusa: Who can resist a motorcycle that looks like god’s own suppository and goes like stink? You can’t quite achieve 200 mph on a Hayabusa, but you can see it from there. The ‘Busa also has pretty good road manners and corners like a proper sport bike. Make it the unrestricted, 1999 version, please.
Rokon Trail-Breaker: I don’t hunt. But maybe I will someday, and then I’ll definitely need one of these two-wheel-drive, pull-start monsters to drag the carcass out of the woods. The Trail-Breaker has a top speed of 25 mph, 8-inch-wide tires, and you can store up to 2.5 gallons of water (or beer!) in each wheel. Everyone should have one of these sort-of motorcycles. Plus, it floats!
Hodaka Super Rat: This 100 cc motocross bike smokes like your Aunt Mavis in 1962, when cigarettes were cheap and (reportedly) did not cause cancer. An entire generation of juvenile delinquents in the ‘60s were indoctrinated into motorcycling with the simple, silver-tanked Super Rat (and its street legal brethren, the Ace 90 and 100). Made in Oregon!
A modern Triumph Rocket 3: This 2500 cc behemoth is the motorcycling equivalent of a giant slab of beef. I have been known to go in motorcycle shops, sit on this bike, and make motor noises. And who, pray tell, needs 163 lb-ft of torque? Pretty much everyone! It’s the muscle car of motorcycles. There must be a way to affix fuzzy dice to that thing.
Yamaha RD 350: As long as I am cultivating relations with my neighbors, why not a screaming little two-stroke twin?In the pantheon of ‘70s motorcycles that I wanted but could never afford, this one was always near the top of the list. Magazine after magazine proclaimed the RD in heroic terms like “Giant Slayer” because it out-handled and out-accelerated bikes with more than twice the displacement. Eventually Yamaha even gave it a front disc to slow the whoa. And it’s a looker.
Briggs & Stratton Mini-Bike: I love these twist-the-grip-and-wait motorcycles, complete with pull start, rigid frame, centrifugal clutch, band-style brake, and square tires. I used to have one, in 1970, when my febrile imagination thought 3.5 hp was a lot. So now I need another. Based on my warped personality, that should be obvious.
Honda CRM250M Elsinore: Here’s a motorcycle from the ‘70s that strays into a whole new category of uselessness. You can’t put a license plate on it. But you could take it to the local OHV park and make lots of noise while attempting to bottom out the suspension. And oh, that silver tank!
Honda Valkyrie: I’ve never liked cruisers much. But I have always loved this motorcycle, which was last made in 2003 and looks like the evil offspring of a Gold Wing and a Fat Boy. Plus, you can really give it the beans. I still remember an instructor at CLASS track schools that would bring one of these and pass students on the outside of Turn 5 at Laguna Seca like they were stuck in cement, throwing sparks all the while. That flat six always did deserve to be shown in all its glory, not hidden under acres of Tupperware.
Münch Mammoth: This is the Shrek of motorcycle development, with a 1200 cc, four-cylinder car engine that developed so much power it would rip spokes out of the rear rim. The 600-pound, 1960s Münch is as obnoxious and opulent as a two-door Cadillac. And handles similarly. Which of course, means I need one.
Sadly for my wife, that’s just a partial list. I feel certain that I’ll own a number of these bikes in the coming years, if I have not been cast out of the house. By the way, do you have any opinion about the Vincent Comet, affectionately known as Half a Black Shadow? I’m thinking of buying one. No reason, other than, well, no reason. I’m sure you understand.
My first ride was an Ace 90 Hodaka (Pabatco), and later in life I acquired a bike that eluded me in my youth: an RD400, so I believe we may similar aspirations!
I do understand. Are there people reading this who actually don’t?
There may be, but they’re no friends of mine. 🙂