Month: April 2024

Going Chinese? I don’t really think so!

Posted on by roadriderblog

Would you buy a brand new bike off the showroom floor that couldn’t be delivered on the agreed date because it had a part missing? No, me neither! Which is a shame, because it was all going so well…

My wife, Peter, used to have a full motorcycle licence. She’s owned a Suzuki GSX750, a Yamaha Star 1100 and a V-Strom 650, and ridden a whole host of 1980s bikes. She currently owns a Triumph Tiger 800XC and a Yamaha TW200. Unfortunately, she let her South African licence lapse while living and working in the UAE (sadly, no licence-till-you’re-70 there) so needs to get a new one.

She duly took her CBT training and  started to get some current UK two-wheeled experience on the Suzuki Address 110 scooter she took over from our emigrating son. She wanted something more substantial with a ‘manual’ gearbox to ride before taking her test, so we went shopping online for a suitable 125.

That was an interesting experience. It’s been about 45 years since I last rode a 125, a Honda CG125 I had on test for Motorcyclist Illustrated. I recall it was a thoroughly nice 125, albeit woefully underpowered for the commute from our home in Gravesend (at the time) to central London. My first surprise this month was the price of new 125s from the big four Japanese manufacturers: some of the best cost more than £5,000! Low-mileage, one-owner used examples were also well into the £3,000 mark. To get down to the £1,500-£1,800 we fancied paying for a bike that Peter would use purely as a test-passing vehicle, we were looking at much older, multi-owner bikes.

Along  the way, I found an ad for a Hanway 125 SC, which looked impressively like a Ducati Scrambler. A review of some road tests showed that it was well-received by the media and produced 15 bhp, which is the maximum for a learner 125 and significantly more than the 10-11 bhp offered by more mainstream bikes. Even better, there was a brand-new, pre-registered example on sale for £2,699 at a dealer near us.

We drove there and examined the Hanway, a pre-registered Benelli and a two-owner Honda CBF125, all at roughly the same price. Peter felt the Hanway, a stylish beast for its size, looked like the best bet, and I agreed, so we paid a £100 deposit and agreed to pick it up the following Friday.

We called first thing on Friday to say we were on our way to collect the Hanway. The salesman we’d been dealing with was out but a colleague asked us to wait until 11:00 so they could get the paperwork ready and make sure the bike was clean from its brief road-test by the mechanic. Our original salesman, a very impressive and helpful guy in my opinion, called shortly afterwards to explain that there was a problem.

They’d discovered that a mechanic in their workshop had cannibalised the Hanway to source a part from the switchgear for some other bike. They’d have to order a replacement from the parts depot, but it was close by and they should have the part before the end of the day and they’d fit it as quickly as possible. We were disappointed, naturally, and a little concerned. What kind of dealer would allow a mechanic to cannibalise a new bike on the showroom floor and not at least order a replacement immediately?

We called mid-morning the following day and spoke to the manager; our salesman wasn’t there that day. He said the part had arrived but they didn’t have workshop staff on site till Monday; however, they’d get to the bike as soon as they could.

“I have to say I’m not very impressed,” I told him. “Why would you allow a mechanic to take a part off a new bike and not order a replacement straight away?”

“It seems we did,” he told me, “but unfortunately that part never arrived. Anyway, cannibalising showroom bike is a common practice – all dealers do it.”

He may well be right, but the “part never arrived” bit did it for Peter and me. We’d been willing to take a punt on a Chinese brand we’d never heard of because the price was good, the test reports were favourable and it looked great. But this was a new bike, already missing a component, and the parts ordering system had proved fallible. The dealership had a workshop that didn’t work on Saturdays, and they couldn’t give us a firm delivery date beyond “as soon as we can”.

We did the logical thing and cancelled the order, and happily they didn’t fuss over refunding our deposit. I went online straight away and found three Honda CBF125s for sale at Staffordshire Honda in Newcastle-under-Lyme, so we headed there. The three bikes had between 250 and 850 miles on the clock. The lower-mileage white bikes were ex-demonstrators, whereas the red model with 850 miles was a one-owner bike in seemingly excellent condition. We bought it on the spot, for £100 less than the Hanway. The dealer said his workshop was fully booked for the next two weeks but since the bike had had its first service only a few weeks earlier they’d put it through the workshop immediately for a safety check and we could ride it away. Had we gone for either of the white models, it would have been 10 days before we could have taken delivery.

I rode the bike the 20 miles home and found it perfect for the job it was about to do. Peter loves it and gets out to practice her skills as often as she can. I can’t speak highly enough of the service we received from Staffordshire Honda that day – it’s worth a visit even if only to see the wonderful collection of modern classics on display there. I’m not going to name the Hanway dealer, because it seems well-rated online, the salesman was a solid guy, and maybe this was a one-off. He lost one certain sale and another likely one (a BMW K1600 GTL on the showroom floor that took my fancy). But I can’t help feeling that we had a narrow escape and ended up with the better brand and the better bike.

45 years on, I finally bought a Wing!

Posted on by roadriderblog

I rode my first Gold Wing in August 1979; three years later I wrote the book Gold Wing; but it’s taken until last Saturday for me to actually own one. Almost 45 years is quite a wait, and I haven’t been disappointed.

That first Wing ride was memorable for many reasons. As a motorcycle journalist at the time, I’d recently come back from the launch of the 19709 BMW range in America. I’d joined seven other British journalists to sample the then-new R100RT, R100T and a few others I don’t now recall. It was probably the sheer joy of stunning California and Arizona scenery in 80-degree (Fahrenheit) weather in February that turned my head, but I liked those bikes – so much so that I ordered a new R100 Autumn Special in a glorious metallic green when I got home. I wanted that bike so much, and was thrilled when I picked it up from Slocombe’s on V-plate day, 1 August.

The following day found me at Honda’s UK headquarters in Chiswick to collect a brand-new GL1000 K3 Gold Wing. By the time I arrived home in Gravesend, I knew I’d made a mistake in buying the Beemer. To my mind, the Wing was the better bike – and it would have cost me £30 less to boot! I rode both bikes back-to-back that week and found the Honda smoother, quieter (the BMW had a tappet rattle that never went away), more comfortable and more powerful.

When I was asked to write a book on  Gold Wings in 1982, the logical place to go was Wing Ding, the annual gathering of Wing owners in the US. That year it was held in Steamboat Springs, Colorado, and I rode there on a spanking new metallic brown and gold Aspencade on loan from Honda US. Again, I admit to being seduced by the ride and the scenery: through the San Bernadino mountains, across the Mojave desert, into Las Vegas at 1 am and out again at 2 am, vast stretches of nothingness in which at one stage I didn’t see a light or sign of another human being for 30 minutes. It was 95 degrees at midnight, and what I did see was the “billion stars all around” from The Eagles’ Peaceful Easy Feeling. Fabulous bike, memorable ride over several days, awesome trip.

Yet I didn’t buy myself a Wing. There was a mortgage to pay, young children to raise, so I focused instead on more affordable second-hand machinery: a CX500, a CBX (should never have sold that one), a new Firestorm, a Kawasaki 1500 Vulcan, two Honda Valkyries, a Suzuki TL1000S, a Ducati Sport Classic, a Rocket III and finally a third Valkyrie. Oh, and then a Rune. But no Wing. Until last Saturday.

The Valkyries always appealed to me because on balance I have preferred naked bikes, and the Valk is basically a naked Gold Wing: same 1500cc flat six (until the Wing went to 1832cc and left the Valkyrie behind) but with the look of a traditional motorcycle: an engine, a petrol tank, two wheels, lots of chrome, and plenty of smooth, silky power. None of that plastic nonsense!

I borrowed a new Wing in ’88 for a week and loved it; I rode a friend’s 1800 down to Devon to buy the TL in 2005 and loved it; my wife and I rented one in Colorado for a week in 2011 and we both loved that, too. I was looking for a replacement for my Rocket III Touring and found a lovely Valkyrie in Blackpool, so for the next 10 years that became our primary tourer. But our trip to Norway 18 months ago got me thinking that the Valkyrie wasn’t necessarily the answer anymore. I messed up the rear suspension settings and that made the bike harder to manage at low speed; the handlebar position and angle seemed to cause me arm pain that didn’t happen on my other bikes; and the lack of modern amenities like built-in satnav, heated grips and easily lockable luggage suggested that maybe the time had come for a replacement.

Online reading suggested the Triumph GT900, which weighed about 100 kg less and had lots going for it: flatter bars, built-in satnav, heated grips. Or the BMW R1250 RS, which added shaft drive to the mix. Then while shopping for a new 125 for my wife to re-take her test (blog to follow) I saw not one but three BMW K1600s at prices that seemed more affordable than I’d have guessed. A test ride or two seemed in the offing.

Then last Friday I rode my Rune to Bill Smith Motors in Chester to have a new front tyre fitted. The tyre stuff didn’t work out, because the mechanics reckoned it was too hard to raise the front end of the 440kg Honda to get at the wheel. While I waited, however, I spied a very nice-looking red 2007 Gold Wing with 39,500 miles on the clock. A return trip that afternoon on the Valkyrie allowed the dealer to consider a trade-in offer. They called at 11:00 next morning with a deal that I felt was fair, and by 3pm I was riding home on my first Wing.

Initial impressions confirmed what I already knew: it was smooth, powerful, very comfortable, very sure-footed and a pleasure to ride. The riding position promised an easier time for my right arm, the centrally locked luggage system suggested easier moseying while touring, and the general amenities (fairing, great seat, radio, MP3 player, reverse gear, heated seats, heated grips, air-adjustable suspension) augured well for our future tours. Only time will tell. It’s been a long wait, almost 45 years, but I sense it’s all come right in the end.