I can’t help myself. There must be some sort of genetic defect in my DNA that makes me love Honda 350’s. But, I can take solace in knowing that I am not the only one. The Honda 350 is the best selling motorcycle of all time. I think? I hope? I really don’t want to be the only one with this incurable disease.
I have 4 1/2 Honda 350’s in my barn. Two run, one doesn’t (its the parts mule), and the other one and a half is in a bunch of boxes and parts hanging from the ceiling to be put back together sometime soon?
On ebay this morning I found a small group of 350’s that all need some love but could turn into a couple, a couple, of very cool bikes.
First, the bike above is not in the collection, it’s just what you could maybe build out of what’s there…
There is a CL77 (305 Scrambler) in the batch which is really quite nice. Most of these bikes are destined to become parts bikes however, but that’s OK, those of us into this sort of thing need a good stock of parts bikes…and an understanding wife or a very separate (as in another town) industrial / storage space.
The Honda 350 is one of those things in life that does ‘everything good and nothing great’. It gets you around town, it can handle freeway speeds (kind of…??) its headlight is as good as a Boy Scout flashlight in a dust storm, The alternator is as weak as can be so you need to always ride the bike at at least 3,000 RPM just to keep the battery up to snuff (if you’re really serious about these bikes you upgrade the alternator). When it’s hard to start chances are it is the battery, buy a ‘Battery Tender’ and keep it hooked up.
Despite its little flaws, the Honda 350 is still the perfect motorcycle. It is the Labrador Retriever of the motorcycle world, always there when you need it, willing to do whatever you ask of it.
Click on the pics below for more info and pictures. There are a couple of real gems in this bunch.
Close your eyes and picture this. You’ve worked a lifetime, the kids are grown and gone and they live on the other side of the country. Your friends are dying off and your favorite waitress at the Denny’s finished beauty school and moved to Osh Kosh. If you have to go to one more Saturday night Bridge Club get together at the Schloblotnik’s you’re going to go postal. And on top all that, you stink at Golf. Retirement just ain’t what it’s cracked up to be.
One morning on your way to the Wal Mart to buy whatever your wife put on the list, you saw your salvation coming down the road right at you. All of a sudden everything was clear as a bell. You hurried through your shopping list (forgetting half of it), turned down a job offer to be a greeter and drove as fast as your 1988 Buick Le Sabre would go, to the closest RV dealer. You stand at the entrance like a little kid walking into a Toy’s R US. Your eyes are as big as dinner plates…trailers, 5th wheels, pushers, pullers, pullouts, gas, diesel…where do you start? After a short, very short, pause to think about getting home so your wife won’t think you’re flirting with the checker at the Wal Mart, you remember she’s at the beauty parlor and she’ll be there for hours. You also wonder why they call it a beauty parlor, nobody comes out looking all that beautiful?
After spending nearly two hours with Fred the salesman, you head home loaded up with sales brochures and dreams of the open road. Just you and the little woman with not a care in the world. Sell the house and live on the road in your new motorhome. Now that’s what retirement is supposed to be.
To make a long story short, it took a while but you finally convinced the wife to go for it. You dragged her kicking and screaming to the RV dealer all the while telling her she could find bridge clubs all over the country. Once she set foot in that 33 foot pusher with a pull out dining room and a bathroom bigger than the one in the house, well, you knew you had won the war.
Her last question before signing the papers and driving off the lot in their new 33 foot pusher with a pullout dining room and a bathroom bigger than one in the house was, “how do we get around once we get somewhere? We certainly can’t tow that old Buick around the country”. “Don’t worry my love I have a plan”
You and I know that every motorhome traveling around the country needs two things to make it complete. First is the bumper sticker on the back that says ‘We’re spending our kids inheritance’ and the second is a small motorcycle hanging off the front bumper. You were probably wondering if I’d ever get around to motorcycles weren’t you. Now, it can’t be just any old small motorcycle, it’s got to have a certain cool factor to it. Not a modern flashy bike but something kind of old and reliable, a little crusty (or is it called character?) and it doesn’t get hurt too badly when it tips over…hey, kind of like you!
This morning on ebay I found the almost perfect motorhome motorcycle. A little 1967 Honda CL125. It runs but could stand a TLC…the standard stuff, a new battery, clean the carbs, might need a couple of tires and maybe give it a bath…nah, it’s just going to get dirty on the front bumper anyway. The owner says the fenders need to rechromed, why bother? they’re just going to get corroded when you’re camped at the seashore. You don’t want to do too much to this little bike, just get it running good and reliable (it’s a Honda, reliability is not an issue) so that it can haul you or the Missus to the grocery store for supplies or up the river a ways for some good fishing. The other reason you don’t want to put too much money or effort into this little bike is that when it gets stolen off the bumper or you accidently run into a parking post, you won’t feel too bad. The price is good so far and if you’re looking for a little bike to do just the basics, this is a great choice. Click on the pics for more info and a chance at having a start to a great retirement.