FIRST BIKE
My first bikes were
1. NSU 600SSL of 1937 bought in kit of different pieces (not all from that bike actually) and restored in a form of lighweight chopper. Never run as such, because I got another before getting NSU back to action.
So, first real bike was Ukrainian boxer-based, half-done, bought and completed by myself custom. Properly custom - every second bit self-made
It did actually look good. It ran awfully - max. 120 kmph, valve adjustement every 1500 km (nothing to do with me - I changed all engine internals myself, but parts quality was sh..t), drum brakes - well, at this time it was unreal to even think about jap or anything decent everybody was riding self-made bikes...
Next was Honda VTR-junior (250 cc) grey import. Best bike I ever had in terms of reliability, smart engineering and traffic drilling. I had 43 bhp version, and it did weight nothing and I were able to go off-road when I wanted...
So, first real bike was Ukrainian boxer-based, half-done, bought and completed by myself custom. Properly custom - every second bit self-made
It did actually look good. It ran awfully - max. 120 kmph, valve adjustement every 1500 km (nothing to do with me - I changed all engine internals myself, but parts quality was sh..t), drum brakes - well, at this time it was unreal to even think about jap or anything decent
everybody was riding self-made bikes... Next was Honda VTR-junior (250 cc
) grey import. Best bike I ever had in terms of reliability, smart engineering and traffic drilling. I had 43 bhp version, and it did weight nothing and I were able to go off-road when I wanted...4 wheels moving body, 2 wheels moving soul
mosts crashed bike in history
My first bike. 'bout 4 years ago aged 29, not that long in london but already so sick of the tube and that sinking rat race feeling I thought, bugger this Im getting a bike. Did a direct access course but, agonising defeat, I failed the second part, the driving test at the end. They sited mirrors or something but to be honest, completely new to biking, I just hadnt quite sync'ed into everything yet. Second attempt booked all i had to do was somehow not count every second of the (still frankly unbelievable) 10 week wait. It was like something out of Lord of the Rings. The desire for my precious!!! Frankly it was doing my nuts
But I had passed my CBT. Lets be honest, its hard to fail that bit. Scouring the cheapest of cheap ads I bought a Honda CG 125, from one of those independant bike hire companies. This bike had seen some action. Virtually everything that could be snapped off had been, then had been welded back on. The indicators worked but pointed in strange direactions. The headlamp bracket had a huge kink in it. Clutch and break levers were scuffed and worn. The bike was from another dimension where right angles didnt exist.
But she started ok from cold, a kick start mind, but that felt, at the time just a little bit retro and cool, at least to me (more on this later). Red, only slightly dented tank. Exhaust is actually, unbelievably one thinks until you realise it'll have been replaced, fine. Polished up a treat. Forks are ok, brakes work,,,ok. Nice weld and chrome bag carry on the back. No R1 or Ducati but no one forgets their first bike..
I was livinng just off the Hammersmith roundabout. Morning routine included the strongest cup of filter coffee a piece of toast and the innevitable rush to get to work, if not on time but perhaps not actually late. Double decker buses too bored to indicate, lemming pedestrians, expresso guzling psycho's in huge shiny cars, that I swear really were out to get me.
But me an the CG made a good team.
In London on a small bike, its all about keeping moving. Zipping through the gaps, knowing exactly how wide you are.
The cg rattled me out of all trouble in spite of sh1t brakes, a rubbish headlight and about 15 false neutrals none of which you could ever find until the lights were just turning green again.
Every moving part in the engine felt only loosely held together. But she always started. This bike once got left, chained to a lamp post from November to April. But she still started. With me, there was a brief respite, a calm, at least relatively, where nothing actually got snapped off or broken. Mirrors got thwacked on a fairly regular basis. Went over once when a taxi pulled out through traffic. Thats about it. Story could have ended there, with the bike in the back of the garage more and more forgotten with every subsequent bike bought.
But no, when I upgraded to the ZZR I gave her to my brother, recently back from oz, completely broke and in desperate need of wheels.
For the poor old bike, this must have been equivilent to volunteering to a 3rd tour in Vietnam. Nicks approach to skiing, computer games, skating, blading and rock climbing was to push, push hard all the time, taking out a few things until you stopped crashing. There was the time he made a mess of the brand new audi driver who hadnt worked out where the indicators were yet. Made a real mess of his door. Great bloke in the shop picked the bike up and bashed the front wheel against a lamp post until the forks pointed vaguely in the same direction again. Got him home, but as happens sometimes with bikes of a certain age, it somehow never got fixed. Now, to stay upright and going in a straight line, you had to hang off a bit, a elbow cheek off to the left. The bars were bent too so you had to steer to the left a fair bit to go straight.
But I had passed my CBT. Lets be honest, its hard to fail that bit. Scouring the cheapest of cheap ads I bought a Honda CG 125, from one of those independant bike hire companies. This bike had seen some action. Virtually everything that could be snapped off had been, then had been welded back on. The indicators worked but pointed in strange direactions. The headlamp bracket had a huge kink in it. Clutch and break levers were scuffed and worn. The bike was from another dimension where right angles didnt exist.
But she started ok from cold, a kick start mind, but that felt, at the time just a little bit retro and cool, at least to me (more on this later). Red, only slightly dented tank. Exhaust is actually, unbelievably one thinks until you realise it'll have been replaced, fine. Polished up a treat. Forks are ok, brakes work,,,ok. Nice weld and chrome bag carry on the back. No R1 or Ducati but no one forgets their first bike..
I was livinng just off the Hammersmith roundabout. Morning routine included the strongest cup of filter coffee a piece of toast and the innevitable rush to get to work, if not on time but perhaps not actually late. Double decker buses too bored to indicate, lemming pedestrians, expresso guzling psycho's in huge shiny cars, that I swear really were out to get me.
But me an the CG made a good team.
In London on a small bike, its all about keeping moving. Zipping through the gaps, knowing exactly how wide you are.
The cg rattled me out of all trouble in spite of sh1t brakes, a rubbish headlight and about 15 false neutrals none of which you could ever find until the lights were just turning green again.
Every moving part in the engine felt only loosely held together. But she always started. This bike once got left, chained to a lamp post from November to April. But she still started. With me, there was a brief respite, a calm, at least relatively, where nothing actually got snapped off or broken. Mirrors got thwacked on a fairly regular basis. Went over once when a taxi pulled out through traffic. Thats about it. Story could have ended there, with the bike in the back of the garage more and more forgotten with every subsequent bike bought.
But no, when I upgraded to the ZZR I gave her to my brother, recently back from oz, completely broke and in desperate need of wheels.
For the poor old bike, this must have been equivilent to volunteering to a 3rd tour in Vietnam. Nicks approach to skiing, computer games, skating, blading and rock climbing was to push, push hard all the time, taking out a few things until you stopped crashing. There was the time he made a mess of the brand new audi driver who hadnt worked out where the indicators were yet. Made a real mess of his door. Great bloke in the shop picked the bike up and bashed the front wheel against a lamp post until the forks pointed vaguely in the same direction again. Got him home, but as happens sometimes with bikes of a certain age, it somehow never got fixed. Now, to stay upright and going in a straight line, you had to hang off a bit, a elbow cheek off to the left. The bars were bent too so you had to steer to the left a fair bit to go straight.
red is the fastest colour;)
CG
That CG sounds horribly like mine 
I had to ride it from Chatham to Tonbridge every day ('bout 50 mile round trip) in the snow. Fell off at least twice a day but just used to pick it up and get moving again (doing that, adjusting your mirrors as you go along thing, 'cos you're too daft to realise how it easy it is to fall off when u you do it). The bike was fantastic at starting apart from when the ignition cylinder got so loose that I had to wrap a bit of masking tape round the key to make it turn!
Oh, and spending 20 minutes trying to kick start it in the snow drift outside my house before I realised some little sh1t had nicked my HT cap!
I had to ride it from Chatham to Tonbridge every day ('bout 50 mile round trip) in the snow. Fell off at least twice a day but just used to pick it up and get moving again (doing that, adjusting your mirrors as you go along thing, 'cos you're too daft to realise how it easy it is to fall off when u you do it). The bike was fantastic at starting apart from when the ignition cylinder got so loose that I had to wrap a bit of masking tape round the key to make it turn!
Oh, and spending 20 minutes trying to kick start it in the snow drift outside my house before I realised some little sh1t had nicked my HT cap!
I ride way too fast to worry about cholesterol.