6 years ago I purchased a 1971 Honda cb500 Four. I’ve always had a love for old classic motorcycles, but either couldn’t find or can’t afford an old BMW, BSA, Royal Enfield or Indian.I was driving down the road early Sunday morning with my father after doing some yard work on the house I had just purchased. We spotted this bike just leaning beside a barn, just down the road from my house. I had wanted a motorcycle for a while now, and was constantly harassed by my friend to find something I could ride with him and my father during the summer. We decided to stop in and find out what the story was behind the bike and if he was interested in selling it.
He had a lot of stuff outside like he was spring cleaning, and we didn’t think there was any harm in asking if he was interested in selling.
When we got to the house and older man with a thick accent stepped out and asked how we were doing. “Are you interested in selling this motorcycle I asked.” He immediately answered, “Yes, what’s your offer? If you can get it running I’d like to see it back on the road instead of in my shed. “
He then went on to ask if I wanted to buy his old BMW as well, however I had a feeling that bike wouldn’t be as in expensive as what I thought I could get the Honda at.
After negotiating with him we came to an agreed price of six hundred dollars, which I just happened to have put aside for an occasion just like this. My father jumped in his truck, and headed back to his house to pick up the trailer. We needed the trailer so we could get the bike home, and start the project of getting this bike up and running.
While I waited for my father to return, the older man started to talk about how he was working on finishing up a conversion project to his old garage. He was hoping to relocate full time to upstate New York from his current residence long island. He also went on to mention that his son play NFL football for the Miami Dolphins. However he also mentioned that he had a falling out with his son, and they haven’t spoken since he was drafted back in 1992. I asked if his signature was worth anything, since he had to sign over the title, and briefly mentioned that his son had changed his name when he got into the NFL too.
It amazing how much information people will share with you once you have found a common interest. I felt like he hadn’t had anyone to talk with in sometime, and was eager to talk about the history of the motorcycle, his life and family and the renovations he was making to this converted garage. We even got on the subject of my last name, and he having heard it before overseas, asked if my family was of Hungarian descent, which my family is. We then went on to talk about some other Hungarians that lived in our area, although he mentioned must of use were shorter. This coming from a large, six foot three man, who probably would dwarf most people in our small town. I however got my mother’s side of the family jeans, and am a bit taller than my five foot six father, standing at six feet tall.
Back home, we checked the bike to make sure there was pressure in the system, replaced the spark plugs. Pulling the carbs out and cleaning all four of them, since we could see some fuel coming out of the exhaust pipe. Pull the Air Filter and give it a good rinse. And since the battery was all but dead, add purchasing a new battery to that list.
Once we got the bike cleaned up and put back together, new battery in, we tried to start it up. A few chugs from the started and it was alive. The bike smoked a little bit, but it was running. My father and I headed out with his bike, for a test run to make sure everything seemed ok. We headed out for about a ten mile ride, and returned back to the house. The bike was running good. Some minor issues we would have to address, but for the most part I scored a pretty nice bike, and so far only had about seven hundred dollars invested in it.
Next thing I had to do was to get my motorcycle license and get then get the bike registered, and plates for the road.
First time I took it to get registered the men at the shop in Oneonta mentioned a website I should look at. They started to tell me almost everyone they knew that had an old 70s Honda turned it into a Café Racer. At the time I was just happy to have a bike to ride in the summer, nice cool breeze in my face. It wasn’t until about a year ago, that I decided my bike was going to get an extreme make over…. And become the Café Racer it deserved to be!
