Classic Ride - page 3 (Vol. 95 - September 1995)

Let’s start with the engine. With this bike the engine is everything. Back in ’78, the 1047cc CBX was the most powerful motorcycle you could buy in standard trim. (After its rebore, Bob's bike now measures 1063cc).

The 105bhp claimed on the spec sheet was undoubtedly a gross exaggeration. No matter. Nothing was quicker. Well, not in a straight line anyway.

Hats off to designer Masahuri Tsuboi. His motor's a masterpiece. Six cylinders, six carbs, twins cams, 24 valves and lots of clever touches - it was awe-inspiring. And still is. To this day it remains the most exotic and visually exciting powerplant ever installed in a road bike chassis.

Getting to grips with it again rekindled a love affair which never quite got off the ground first time round because of my seduction by the GS.

We got re-acquainted on a 25-mile trip from the Mechanics office to my village home the other side of Northamptonshire. I was a bit cautious of the old girl at first. And rightly so. Within minutes she had slapped my face with a vivid reminder of one of her old vices.

It happened as we accelerated away from a junction. First, second, third, MISSED GEAR! Rev counter needle off the dial and nightmare visions of engine rebuild number four.

The CBX motor's a honey but its gearbox is a bitch harbouring more neutrals than Switzerland. Another couple popped up their ugly little heads before the journey was over. Deja vu.

I drew attention to the problem in that first MCN test and it hung like a vulture in wait of engine carrion over my speed testing of the Moto Martin special.

What a day that was. I set a pretty quick standing start quarter mile time straight off and should have quit while ahead. Instead I tried to whittle it down. No luck. The five-speed box kept popping its cogs forcing most subsequent runs to be aborted.

Unfortunately the Moto Martin importer had come along to watch. When you miss a shift on the CBX the motor screams like a wounded banshee - only louder. In the end the poor bloke couldn't take any more. He ran out onto the track and waved the session over - his nerves in tatters.

There is no warning that the box is going that first is going to be a stubborn so and so. First engages with a clonk but the remainder of the changes appear quite slick. Don't be deceived. False neutrals lurk in there to ambush you when you least expect it.

Accelerating hard on the open road or trickling along in town - they jump up everywhere. To avoid them, forget all notion of racer-style clutchless changes and press the gear lever home with a firm shove rather than a gentle caress.

Fortunately, Bob's engine weathered its excursions into the twilight zone of the rev counter without ill-effect. You and your's may not be so lucky.

   

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