Keep Your Head Up, Eyes Down the Road

Lindsay and I with my CB400A the day I bought it. 

It was probably a mistake. Bad timing. 

Of course, I’ve never regretted it.

There was an ad on Craigslist for the exact same make and model as the motorcycle I had when I was in college. A 1978 Hondamatic CB400A with a dent in its tank.

They all have a dent in the tank.

I hadn’t ridden motorcycles for almost 20 years at the time. I never really gave it up, just like I never officially gave up learning to fly airplanes. I started flying lessons when I was 14. One day I couldn’t take lessons anymore - I was too young and the instructor found me out -- and I just never got back around to it. 

It was the same with motorcycles. On campus at WSU and at home in the Columbia River Gorge, riding a motorcycle was fun and thrilling and practical too. Riding it was a wonderful release of stress, a mind-clearing exhilaration. It was an it’ll-be-OK machine that ameliorated the tumult of life.

College was stressful because money was tight. It didn’t help that I had quit school for semester because I became too focused on the debt of student loans and the girlfriend from Hell. 

I tried to take a shortcut that turned out to be a dead end. 

In a brief moment of wisdom I admitted my mistake and went back to college. My dead end decision, however, forced me into a dingy off-campus apartment with a disgusting roommate. My financial aid was delayed, so I worked three jobs and slogged through the slush and snow in wet sneakers, unable to afford a parking permit for campus. 

One spring day the check arrived, but I’d already managed to pay my books and tuition and fees. That left some money to buy food and pay rent. Somehow, I still had some money left over. 

As the snow melted around me, I lingered by the used motorbikes for sale at the Honda dealer downtown. It was orange, cheap and ugly in that late 70s sort of way. It also had an automatic transmission which would be perfect for a new rider negotiating the hills and traffic of Pullman.

Theoretically the $600 I spent that day on the motorcycle and helmet could have been put to better use. Yet,  I cannot for the life of me think of a better dollar-per-joy return on investment. 

I was not fast or reckless or daring. My CB400A was one of those “you meet the nicest people on a Honda” type bikes designed to be unintimidating. It was simple and fun. 

Moreover, when you are riding a motorcycle, it demands your full attention, which allows all the other intruding thoughts to ease away. 

I sold that bike with every intention of buying another. It paid my airfare to Alaska to work in a fish processing plant for the summer. My plan was that I would come home with full pockets that would not only allow me to pay for the next year of college, and to buy a new motorcycle. I had my eye on a Harley-Davidson 883. 

The fishing and the pay wasn’t as good as my wild expectations. My pockets were only deep enough to pay off some credit cards and fund my final year of college. 

Looking back, I could have bought another old bike, but I didn’t. Always meant to. I even test rode a Yamaha 850 special a couple years later. Instead, I invested it in a wedding ring for Amy. 

That was the best decision I’ve ever made.

For twenty years - years of commuting and working and even a return to school to study nursing, I always thought I’d get around to motorcycles. I just didn’t. 

Then, there it was. The same bike I sold, the same year -- the same user-friendly automatic transmission -- for $600 and only a short drive away.

The timing was all wrong.  Amy’s dad was sick and we were helping on the farm. My mom was coming down for a visit later that day. I got up in the early morning hours and hopped in my truck driving up to Raymond to meet the guy in Dairy Queen parking lot. After a short ride around the back streets, the grin was stuck on my face. I realized what I was missing. I couldn’t get the money out of my pocket fast enough. 

I tore that bike down and rebuilt it, using an owners manual and parts off of ebay. There are lovers of these old bikes all over the world and they are willing to share their knowledge. 

Amy’s dad fully recovered and but then first my mom, then my sister were diagnosed with cancer. The motorcycle didn’t occupy all my time -- it didn’t solve any problems. Yet, it was there for reassurance and relaxation, distraction, escape. 

The restoration allowed for little projects in the basement and garage to occupy the rainy days. I took a Motorcycle Safety Foundation course and unlearned all the bad habits. 

During that course you pick up little lessons that apply to life as well as to riding. On two-wheels exposed to the elements, your life is in your hands and the world presents itself with much greater immediacy -- much less room for error - than when caged in the metal shell of car. Your mind is the most important piece of safety equipment on the bike. 

As you ride, you are constantly scanning for things that may come into your path, drivers who probably don’t see you as well as potholes and oil slicks that can force you to lose control of the bike.  You can look for these objects, but you don’t look AT them. You are so connected to the bike that to ride smoothly, you have to keep your eyes down the road.

The bike wants to follow where your eyes go. If you are looking at the stick in the road - you will hit the stick in the road. Instead your mind traces the path ahead, the smooth line between and around the hazards that confront you. 

You can’t trust others with your safety. You anticipate potential hazards and plan a path around them. Actions are smooth and confident. Panic doesn’t present solutions. 

Focus not on the obstacles, but on the escape. 

Five years after that trip to Raymond, I have a different motorcycle, and a different Spring is battling the rearguard of winter. There are deadlines and bills to pay and any number of catastrophes waiting around the corner. 

Yet I keep my head up and eyes on the horizon. 

And I have a motorcycle.

Lights, Filters, Decals

Okay, so I got the first layers of paint on and things looked good. This week I installed a new UNI air filter and worked on the electrical system. There were more wires than I knew what to do with, but after trial and error and pouring over the wiring diagrams, I figured it out. And Lo! There was light ... including the park light.

The downside is that all those connectors don't fit inside the headlight bucket. Problem, having all those electrical connections exposed to the elements is asking for trouble. Moreover, it looks like a hillbilly's front yard.

I found the solution in my shop manual. The Rebel 450s addressed this problem with a junction box behind the headlight because the Rebels cruiser-style headlight was too small. I found a couple of junction boxes on ebay pretty cheap and so I've got one on the way. We'll see how it works.

Another eBay find were these cool vintage Honda stickers made by a seller in the UK. Very cool, they were the hold double transfer type so I only had one shot to get them in the right place, but they ended up looking VERY slick. I was thinking they would get lost in that dark blue but the contrast actually makes them stand out more. Clear coat layers are being applied as I write this. I can't wait to get things all put together and get riding.

Meanwhile the rain continues.

Hey Look, It's lights up! It's alive!

Here's the rough assembly a few days ago during a "sun break"
The front fairing looks good, wind screen my need some adjustment
 - the holes don't match up.

Paint On, Pain Off

So the headlight looks so good on the front of the bike, I'm contemplating leaving the faring off and going old school. That said, even if I sell the faring, I need to get the rust off and fix the mounting hardware. So off it came with a little BoltOff. Then I soaked it in CLR for a day and the rust dissolved away. painted with a couple coats of engine enamel and it looks as good as, used.

I also started stripping the gas tank with Citristrip. We've used this non-toxic chemical stripping gel all over our house and it works great, cleans up good and it is doing an amazing job on the tank. The trick is patience. Put a coat on and walk away until the next day -- it will be all bubbled up. We scrape it off and wipe off the scraper in a shopping back held over our other hand like a glove. Works like a charm. The tank is about 80 percent done already. Extra coats are needed, but not a lot of elbow grease. The tank cover, I dry sanded down and covered with two coats of duplicolor primer and one coat of engine enamel in black. This will be a contrast color, still not sure what the final color will be.

Pipes are covered in stove black after some CLR rust removal. The power chamber -- which was completely rust covered got the same treatment and all looks good. Got it all done, just before the bad weather moved in. Will get pictures soon, I promise!

Latest Build Update

Finally got some more work done on the CB400A this week. I tracked down the relay for the shift indicator and got that working. I also installed the grab bar on the back so I can strap my milk crate or bag there for grocery getting and trips to the library this summer. I rerouted the turn signal in the process but I couldn't get them to light up. Will try again now that the battery has a full charge.

I'm still waiting to install the headlight and turn signal. I need the headlight mounting brackets. The ones sent by Speedmotoco in Eugene were too small and so I sent them back and they are supposed to send me another pair. Speedmotoco did send me a nice black drag bar to replace the elk horn handlebars that came with it. The old bars were comfortable but you sat bolt upright like a scooter. I remember my old CB and how I longed to have lower bars for tucking in on longer rides.

I needed the drag bars to install the viper faring too. Got a little worried after I got the bars on because I thought that I would have to relocate the mirrors too, but it looks like they will sit just outside the faring. Still not sure how I'm going to mount the front turn signals. I'll wait until the brackets arrive and go from there.

Installing the drag bars was (almost) a snap. I popped off the throttle and right side controls with no problem, but I had to cut the left grip to get it off, then I found that the screw on the bottom of the left controls was about stipped and stubborn in the hole. Got to use my new impact driver for the first time in anger and it worked like a charm. Everything went on the new bars, but I left that screw very loose. Will pick up a replacement the next time I'm at the hardware store, then bin the rounded off one.

I've been watching lots of how-to videos on YouTube about motorcycle restoration. Found a great one on removing decals from your bike. The pulls decals off a fairly new Rebel with just WD40 and a hair dryer. So I gave it a go with my side panels and my heat gun.

Before WD40 and Heat Gun

This one looks okay, the other one was already damaged and got a little hot from the heat gun. It needs major sanding and repair anyway. 

The finished tank looks pretty good.

  The whole process took maybe an hour for all three pieces. The bigger decals came off easier than the little ones and my fingernails worked better than a scraper to get the first corner off. Have to keep a little heat on it while you peel I found. Best of all, they came right off with no damage to the paint below.

BikeEXIF recently featured this beautiful CB450 with rattle can paint job!

Not that the old paint is staying of course. I need to strip it down, fill the gaps, prime, paint and clear coat. I also have to bondo that big dent on the right front of the tank. Found some great YouTube videos on that too and I think I'll give it a go here at home. It the tank or the motorcycle was prettier, or worth more money, I'd invest in a pro paint job. But as it is a $600 bike, I'll do it myself.  It can be done. Just check out this rattle-can paint job! Here's a great write up the owner did of the full ressurection/resotration. Like me, he's taking a cheap bike and making a great one with as little expense as possible. Very cool!

I like these colors ... nice car too!

That leaves the question of what color to paint. Ever since I bought the bike, Amy has said that she loves the original blue. Now that the stickers are off, I can kinda see what's she's talking about. I can see I kind of Bugatti inspired paint scheme featuring blue and black. I've always loved the old blue Bugatti racers from the 1920s and '30s.

Covering the rusty chrome with high-gloss black and re-painting the surfaces with a Bugatti blue would leave me something like this picture at right. Now that's pretty!

On the other hand, I've also been pondering a more universal paint scheme inspired by -- of all things -- a music video. My plan was for a white tank, with black and school-bus yellow highlights everyplace else.
 I still love this idea, but I think I'll save it for my next bike.
 The "soul" of this old CB400 wants to be blue.

Another Honda Hawk CB400A Sighting!

Hey, That's My Old Bike!

Ever notice that once you buy a new car, suddenly you notice that you see the same cars everywhere? Part of this is perception of your environment. We're more attentive to familiar or significantly novel stimulus. 

That said, I've been seeing the 1978 Honda Hawk CB400 show up everywhere. The latest sighting is in HELL FOR LEATHER! That's like having Johnny call you over on the Tonight Show. (Okay, you youngsters won't get that reference.) It's like making the cover of Rolling Stone. Anyway, it's not featured, but still pretty cool. 

Actually, it's in a photo spread for a Corazzo jacket review. Cool jacket, and something I'd wear. My daughter Grace even says I look like the guy in the picture. Anyway, look at the bike he's standing on -- see that under his right foot -- yup, it is the unmisstakeable profile of the 1978 CB400. Looks just like the Goldfish I had in college.

My guess is it is probably a Hondamatic. After all, it is the only motorcycle in a sea of scoots, so it fits right in! 

Putting things away for winter

Here's the CB400 without the Vetter

Well the endless parade of rain clouds stretching out into the horizon on the forecast convinced me it was time to put the bike up for winter. I'm planning to do a lot of work on it this winter so I knew I'd have to get it stored away and taken apart.

The first thing I did was removed the Vetter Windjammer fairing. It just doesn't seem to fit the bike right, and I don't think this model was ever meant for a 400cc bike. My guess is they took one off a CB750 and used the same mounts.

This rat's nest of wires makes no sense. Must Fix!

Anyway, getting Vetter off was a snap, but afterwards I had to look at the jumble of wires.

This poor bike has seen its share of ham-handed amature electricians over the years. It has wires that go nowhere, and some that have four or five joints in just a few inches. I've found a number of wires that don't go anywhere at all -- they were just taped together and folded under a panel.

One of my major tasks this winter is trying to return things to the original wiring diagram while replacing the front headlight and turn signals. Should be fun.

Here's how I drained the tank.

Next I drained off the gas out of the tank and removed the tank and seat, then put the bike down in the basement where it will be out of any flood waters and relatively climate controlled.

This winter, the bike will be a series of little restoration projects and if all goes well, it will run better next spring. The tank has a dent and a number of rust spots on the outside (no rust inside!). I'll try my hand a bondo and see about getting it painted up for next year. I have a bunch of ideas for colors, but Amy wants to keep it blue.

Full Circle

Twenty years ago I sold my old 1978 Honda Hawk CB400A motorcycle.

Lindsay and I with my new motorcycle

This week I bought a 1978 CB400A Honda motorcycle. It's Hondamatic!

I stumbled across it on Craigslist two weeks ago. It was for sale in a town 10 miles north of here as the crow flies. Of course, since the logging roads are closed with gates, actually driving there takes the better part of two hours.

Yet the price was right - about half what similar bikes were going for -- and it was running. I told Amy and she said yes.

It has cosmetic damage and a Vetter Windjammer faring. Not sure I'll keep the faring, but if I take it off I'll have to track down the parts to reconstruct the front light bucket and turn signals. We'll see how ambitious I get this winter. In the meantime, it sits in my garage. Sometimes, I go out and just look at it to make sure it's real. It's been a long time coming.

Lindsay has dibs on it .... someday

It's Hondamatic

Honda Hawk - Two Gears, 400 cc - FUN

It had been a hard year. I had quit college in 1988, hooked up with the Girlfriend From Hell and made bad decision after bad decision. By November I was in Tacoma, staying in a friend's apartment while I looked for work as a recording engineer. There were no jobs and no jobs that paid. Finally, I was at an interview at Ironwood Studios when the guy interviewing me set me straight.

"First," he said. "You'll never get a job as recording engineer that pays." There were tons of kids living in their basements willing to work for free just to be around the music. They'd push brooms and learn the business from the inside. My trade school knowledge was fine, but the kid who hung out night after night would eventually get the nod. "Second," he said. "Go back to college. Get a degree in anything, it doesn't matter. A four year college degree shows you can stick with something for four years. It will give you an advantage in every job interview and no one will ask you what your degree is in."

Back at my buddy John's apartment, I told him and his roommate about what the guy at Ironwood had said. His roommate Pete jumped in. "Go back to college," he said. "College is the only place where you can bee poor and still have fun."

That was it. I drove from Tacoma straight over to WSU and signed up for classes scheduled to start in January. I crashed on a friends couch for a few days and got a crappy apartment. I was back. WSU called it a "leave of absence" since I only missed only one semester.

Money was tight. I took a bunch of jobs to pay the bills and put tuition on my credit card hoping that financial aid would pay things back. Eventually, I got a check and paid my bills. I had about $500 leftover.

This bike is identical to mine - right down to the engine guard.

I had hung out at motorcycle shops for years. I would sit on bikes, ask questions.  I think I stopped into Laplante Cycle on the way to My Office bar. Inside was the new bikes -- A Transalp, Pacific Coast, GB500 -- cool stuff,  but way out of my price range. Out front stood a line of old bikes. It was orange, and as I threw a leg over, the dealer came out and said "It's an automatic."

An automatic motorcycle? I'd never heard of such a thing. He got the key and I took it for a ride. It was April, sunny and the road had a silver glare to it that I still remember. I had never ridden a real motorcycle and I was scared as hell, but this was a blast. This was a sign that 1989 was going to be a better year. That I had turned it around.

I wrote him a check and picked up a Nolan helmet and rode the thing home. It was Awesome!

I had buddies at the newspaper who were motorcycle riders. They made fun of my "scooter" but I had a blast on that thing. It had a crack in the front fender that rattled at speed and it leaked oil from some unknown place. Other than that it started and ran like a dream.

At the end of the school year, I borrowed my Step Father's truck and took it home. That summer I worked for Community Action Program in The Dalles. Rode it to work just about every day. The Gorge roads were perfect for motorcycles, but the winds buffeted the light bike around. I had a rubber goldfish keychain. I wore cowboy boots. I gave girls rides around town and through the hills above Lyle.

Best.
Summer.
Ever.

This orange bike looks exactly like my Honda Hawk

The next year at WSU I rode my bike until the now came, then stored it out back. At the end of the school year my big plan was to go up to Alaska and work in the Cannery. Make a bunch of money for school and for a new motorcycle. I had my sights set on a Harley 883 Hugger.

To get to Alaska, I had to pay my own airfare. That meant coming up with cash at the end of the school year. So I sold my Honda -- I still cringe just writing it -- sold it to a roommate who was graduating.

Alaska turned out to be a bust. I barely made enough to return to school. None was leftover for motorcycle payments. My first motorcycle, turned out to be my last.

That was 1990 - twenty years ago.