Conversations
Conversations
UP FRONT
David Edwards
THE TROUBLE WITH SOME JAPANESE motorcycles, my luncheon partner proclaimed over his seafood, is that you can't talk to them.
Come again?
Talk, he'reiterated, as in commune with, as in relate to. He went on to cite the example of Harley-Davidson riders who spend all Saturday morning cleaning and polishing their bikes for a few-hour ride in the afternoon. These riders, he said, were talking to their motorcycles.
My lunchmate related this stor\ with some envy, he being Japanese and a higher-up in one of the Big Four. I also knew him to he passion ate about motorc des. and largely re sponsible for one of Japan's most-en during and most-endearing designs of recent times. You know the bike. even if you don't know the man.
As the conversation continued. I asked him what he would do to make a motorcycle easier to talk to. I think he was only half-joking when he smiled and said h&d put a few brass fittings on it.
I thought back to that comment a few days ago as I was cleaning and polishing my Gold Star hot rod. You max' remember the bike from OUr No vember, "Vintage Revival" issue and the story. "The Raising of CB34-GS361 ," in which was detailed the trials and tribulations of bringing the 1 954 BSA back to life. I'm happy to report that the trouble with the engine. mentioned in that story. was diag nosed as a slightly bent connecting rod, remedied by installing the Car illo rod that currently beats up and down inside the now-sweet-running and (so-far) oil-tight engine.
My bike has a myriad of CUStom touches, including a lot of burnished aluminum surfaces which oxidize and discolor if they're not regularly rubbed with some kind of polishing compound. I was in the midst of this maintenance. working niy way around the BSA's big-finned motor with a soft cloth, when I came to the timing case. And there it was: a banjo fitting for the breather tube. made out of brass. Remembering my friend's words, I gave the piece an ex tra buff or two, stood back, and reveled in its shininess.
As coincidence would have it, I re cently read something that relates to all of this. It was in Phil Schilling's excellent book. The ;%Joiorcvcle Ift4d. (`opvwrited in 1974 and a tri fle dated in some places now, it none theless is the best-written, best-pho tographed overview of the sport that I've seen. In the first chapter. Schil ling explains what has always been one of motorcy cling s big draws: "Motorcyclists have a ritual of wash ing and tinkering. This activity holds a clue to another kind of magic about motorcycles. Observe the Saturdaymorn ing ceremony. The motorcyclist polishes, then repolishes. the gas cap. He discovers a loose nut, and re tightens it. with a faint trace of sat isfaction. The motorcyclist walks around his bike, pushing and pulling on levers and pedals. watching the mechanisms operate. He is a switchclicker, snapping the headlight-beam switch from high to low, listening to the snick and feeling the spring loaded lever roll over center. At tinles the motorcyclist just looks at his bike, not an idle out-of-focus view, hut a studied gaze which moves from one piece of its hardware to the next.
Motorcyclists are lovers of nuts and bolts. They have a passion for things mechanical. Motorcycles can seduce hardware lovers because they radiate a machine-qualit\. Machine, motor cycle-the words interchange freely."
In a world full of exotic. full fairinged motorcycles bristling with technology and advancement. I think this explains why vintage and classic bikes are being enthusiastically col lected. why Harley-Davidson is rid ing an unprecedented wave of popu larity. why many people are calling for the return of the standard motor cycle. These are all bikes clearly made up of nuts and bolts. motorcv des you can talk to.
Nbt for a second do I propose that we all take to the streets on Sportster 8~3s, four-pipe CB75Os or 1954 BSAs, forever swearing-off Ninjas and GSX-Rs and Pacific Coasts. In deed, in more ways than one, the lat ter are among the best motorcycles ever made. And Honda's RC3O. ex pensive though it may be. is quite lit erally a feast for the e~es. No. what I would suggest is that the Japanese make their bikes a little easier to talk to. And I know just where to start.
Recently. I eacquired my 1982 Yamaha Seca 650. It had been sold to a friend with the stipulation that if he ever wanted to part with it, he'd give me first right of refusal. So. now I have a m~torcycle that I've pur chased twice. It's in pretty good shape for an 8-year-old. 20.000-mile bike, with the exception of the fork legs and engine exterior. These com ponents are made of aluminum, but at the time of manufacture, the en gine was painted flat-black and the fork legs were given a clear-coat, pre sumably to save me the time-eating task of having to keep them shiny and bright. Now, the cylinder assembly's paint is faded and flaking. and the fork legs' clear sheaths are as yel lowed as the teeth of a three-pack-a day smoker.
Short of removing the engine from the frame and stripping it of its re maining paint. I'll have to five its un sightliness, but the forks will he taken to a local metal-polishing firm to be buffed out. No clear-coat will be applied.
"You dont want to do that.'~ someone here warned. "You'll he forever polishing the things."
Fine. Fd even offer thai it's a good thing to sit down and have a talk with your bike's fork legs ever\ now and then.
