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By: Jason Giacchino
September 2010 - Off The Pegs
My Recent Adventures
with a Relic ’er I mean a Classic
Honda ATC 160X |
Generally speaking I have a pretty solid view
of antiques: I appreciate them for their
technological contributions, respect them for
their innovations, and have no trouble admiring
them in say a museum or on the pages of a
magazine. I don’t, however, tend to desire any
sort of regression in daily life. Rotary phones,
black and white television, Atari--these are all
things I have no desire to re-experience. Once
was certainly enough!
In keeping with this tradition, I suppose it
applies to ATVs as well. After all, what was
considered outdated technology in 1986 is
certainly nothing I would want to take over a
triple in 2010. So why then, I found myself
asking earlier this evening, do I find myself
hiking back to civilization while the 1984 Honda
ATC 200X I had been mounted on moments prior sat
motionless on the trail? The answer involves my
cousin and the inevitable effects of time on a
drive-chain that was fresh 26-years earlier. But
let’s start with my cousin, shall we?
A bit of a three-wheeler aficionado with a
passion for restoring models he owned
previously, my cousin Mike became the owner of a
pretty well used Honda 200X a few years ago. Of
course, his immediate ambition was to perform a
full restoration of the three-wheeler the likes
of which a ’67 Chevy owner might smile upon at
cruise night. The reality, of course, is that
the machine sat motionless in the back corner of
his garage while more pressing projects (a
Suzuki LTR-450, Yamaha Blaster, and Kawasaki
Tecate 3 for example) occupied his time and
budget.
This season he finally decided to make the move
of putting a performance cam in his Quadracer--one
of few remaining mods he had yet to perform on
the machine, and the $400 price tag on the part
alone had him questioning his devotion to the
lowly old Honda sitting in the corner. I got the
call, which meant first dibs on the restoration
project he never got around to.
A fan of limited garage space of my own coupled
to an apparent desire to always be broke, I said
I would gladly buy the ATC from him and quickly
threw some planks on the back of the truck. What
I should have done was explain to him my view on
antiques, but alas that kind of wisdom is
neither here nor there.
The ATC was certainly not museum-worthy when I
unloaded it: Plastic cracked, rear brake seized,
tires pretty bald, blown rear shock, and valves
making more noise than the exhaust, which of
course was pretty blown out. However, despite
its shortcomings, the engine had major
compression and an affinity for starting up on
the first kick. Clutch was good and solid, all
of the bearings seemed fresh, even the original
Honda Wing tank decals were still in place. In
other words nothing a little elbow grease and a
few bucks couldn’t fix.
And elbow grease it was the next few weeks as I
adjusted the valves, flushed the fuel tank,
lubed the cables and chain, and mended the
cracked fenders. The shock was still rather
pogo-stick like, and the rear brakes were
non-functional; but the time had arrived for me
to enjoy the fruits of my incomplete labor.
Honda ATC 200X |
I quickly became reacquainted with the
limitations of the 3-wheeler chassis as corners
I love to rail on my Outlaw 450 witnessed a
bouncy 200X blast off into the weeds in a cloud
of dust and cuss words. However, after about
twenty minutes of unintentional comic relief, I
settled into the strange flow that is riding a
vehicle with three wheels.
Lessons from my youth such as leaning to the
inside of every turn to keep the rear wheels on
the ground came back in a swirl of
disappointment and nostalgia. Before long I had
found the top of fifth gear (sadly on a trail
that I can’t normally find the top of third on
with the Outlaw) and began to wonder if my
discrimination for things nearly as old as me
was misplaced all these years. Then it happened.
I bounced up a small trail bump and seemed to
have hit neutral in the process. I yanked in the
clutch and stabbed the shifter up a notch; still
nothing but revs. Initial thought: Transmission
locked up! That was one area I hadn’t gone over
in my haste. But then I noticed the chain all
garbled up within the countershaft sprocket.
Quick assessment revealed the casing was in tact
(phew) and the master link of the twenty-six
year old chain had apparently decided it had
worked hard all its life and retirement was its
only option. I guess when you’re a chain,
spending your golden years rusting away in the
middle of some trail is as good a place to
retire as any.
Naturally, this happened when I was at the
farthest point from civilization and on the
evening that I didn’t bring my cell phone along.
It was a 3.5-mile hike back to the neighborhood,
and I made it just as the sun finished setting.
Black flies and mosquitoes had a blood banquet
at my expense, but fortunately a phone call
later and my dad’s King Quad was up to the task
of dragging the wounded 200X back to home base
where all that stands in its way is a fresh
chain.
Of course, technically the argument could be
made that a new rear shock and brake caliper
also stand in its way, but I have a feeling I’ll
be back out there leaning to the inside of the
corners like an idiot long before those items
get replaced. I mean after all, what good is an
antique if it’s just going to sit in a museum?
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