Honda Mt250 Elsinore
Honda MT250 Elsinore
Running on MT
YOU COULD BUY A MONT BLANC PEN. YOU COULD BUY A single three-wood and be left for dead on your short game. You could almost buy a new electronic ignition system for your broken-down Laverda that you wouldn't want to ride anyway until you bought a new seat, which you could buy for about the same amount of money as you could buy a street-licensed, 25-year-old dual-purpose bike.
Which is what I did, the fruit of my greenbacks a 1975 HondaMT250 Elsinore. Always liked the lines of the old CR250 ’crosser, and now I have the cheapo mild-steel version.
First things first: I went overbudget by $25, but got the pictured groovy yellow helmet with the smoke-tint visor in the deal, so that’s my excuse. That and the fact that I had three days to find a bike and get it running before riding it on a Jimmy Lewis-led death march on Rooster Road.
Save for missing front tumsignals, the bike was essentially original, and starts on the first kick. Unbelievable. But with only 1800 miles on the clock, maybe it’s not so unbelievable.
Anyway, after my girlfriend Carole and I knocked off the 6.9 pounds of surface rust (Thanks, darling!), we found a generally sound old motorbike.
The oil-injection oil injected, the gearbox gearboxed, the brakes braked and the shocks definitely shocked. The rear suspension is horrible, and after about five whoops, damping died. Now, the rear end creaks like an old boxspring.The fork was much better, holding in the fresh 10weight ’til this very moment,
a despite the full use of its 7 inches of travel.
No, this old bike is no jumper. What it does do well is turn, even with the semi-worthless takeoff rear knobby.
Nice and low, so you can just lean ’er over and roost in a smooth, controllable slide. It doesn’t climb too badly either, though steeper hills were a challenge-especially seeing as how I’ve lately been gunning for the Editor-Is-Large position. Still, keep it pinned and fan the life out of the clutch and you’ll make it, a technique I learned only after landing upside-down mid-hill. I broke a few things, but found all the replacement pieces at a local junkyard for less than $40.
I have to admit that part of the fun is the fact that my MT smokes like a mosquito fogger with the vintage Yamalube I found in the old Cycle magazine shed. I feel like I’m doing the environment a favor by using it up. The bike is sort of a mobile waste-oil disposal unit. Kudos to me, then. After our ride (no breakdowns) and hundreds of commuting miles (still no breakdowns), the little vibro-beast con-
tinues to start first kick, and seems to run better with the passing miles. I’m liking it more and more. And Kevin Cameron porting specs are on the way. I might even have to bungee a milkcrate on the back soon.
Actually, that wouldn’t be right. Lewis said it best midway through the first day of our ride: “I can tell already. You’re going to spend way too much money restoring that piece of junk.” Yep.
Mark Hoyer
