1976 CB400F - original paint survivor

In August of 2020, I received an unexpected call from Maggie Perotta. She had been recommended to me by a friend who owns a nearby motorcycle shop. Maggie, and her brother Lou, were looking for a fun distraction during the early months of the Coronavirus outbreak. She requested a quote on a motorcycle restoration - a 1976 CB400F Supersport. I was immediately intrigued. The 400F had been a longtime "closet" favorite of mine. I say closet favorite because I've had much faster, more rare and exotic motorcycles. Some of my buddies might laugh about this being one of my favorities - but only because they hadn't ridden one. In its day, this little inline four had a reputation for being nimble, peppy, glassy smooth and absolutely reliable. These are similar qualities I loved in my first Honda four, a CB750 purchased in 1976. After years of owning British bikes in the early late 1960s and early 1970s, I found Honda fours to be a breath of fresh air. They started immediately at the touch of a button. They didn't leave a single drop of oil on the driveway. The lights were bright and always shining. They stopped quickly and accelerated smoothly through the gears. In other words, it had nothing in common with my Triumphs or BSAs. And this little bike, well, it was my ideal "pocket" racer. It sounded much bigger and more sportier than it really was. Although much slower than my Yamaha RD400, it was a blast to ride on the highway - which my two-stroke RD wasn't. It was super smooth and you could ride it for hours and get off without your hands buzzing.
I've loved these little bikes for years and I've been looking for a nice once since my mustache hair first started coming in (late bloomer). I'm in the process of restoring my own '77 CB550F (I think it's the next best thing because I didn't like the looks of the CB350F as much), but I'm so busy, it may be another year before I have a chance to fire that one up. So, I was secretly looking forward to my first test ride of this little four, even if it was months away. I figured, if I couldn't own one, the next best thing would be restoring one for some decent people. Maggie and Lou fit the bill perfectly.
The bike had been in the Perotta family since 1984 when Lou purchased it at the tender young age of just 14. This was shortly after he and Maggie had been introduced to motorcycles and dirt bike riding by their step-father, George. Lou described him as a "really great guy" who loved motorcycles and motorcycle racing. In the mid 1980s, George brought Lou to a road race at Louden Speedway in New Hampshire, where he and his racing partner had a bike entered in a race. At this event, Lou met George's partner and mechanic of the team's race bike. This skilled mechanic was also the original owner of a 1976 CB400F Supersport - this Supersport, which he sold to Lou later that year. Lou's point in telling me this was to emphasize how well maintained this bike was when he bought it. George also helped get Lou a job at a local motorcycle shop where he cleaned up and swept floors to earn a little money - the money he would use to buy this CB400.
With that bike in the garage, I'm sure Lou wasted no time getting a driver's license as soon as he could. It must have been really cool having a bike that nice at his age. And today, that bike triggers dozens of fond memories for Lou. That bright yellow Honda is not only a time capsule for Lou and Maggie, it's now something of a family heirloom. It's been a part of both of their lives for so many years. Lou told me, "As I got older, I dragged that bike everywhere with me." When he left Long Island for college at Virginia Tech, his buddy helped him load the bike in the back of Lou's Jeep Cherokee. When he graduated, he brought it back to Long Island and gave his future wife, Julie, a few rides on it. Then the bike moved with the couple down to the east coast of Florida. This was in the early 1990s. When the first of their children were born, Lou hung up the keys and the bike was silent for more than 30 years - even though it still continued to be moved across the country.
In 2000, as Lou and his young family were preparing to move to Atlanta, Maggie decided she wanted to take up riding again. So she had the bike shipped to New Jersey where she was living. But she never found the time to get it running. So, once again, the bike sat, waiting for the next move. After a few years, Maggie decided to move to Florida. She left the bike in the care of their uncle, who then took the Honda with him when he moved to Nebraska. A couple of years later, the uncle and aunt moved to the gulf coast of Florida, and guess what? The bike moved with them. After a few years in Florida, they sold their house to Maggie. The bike stayed in the garage and once again it returned to the possession of Lou's sister. A crazy story, right? Over thirty years, this bike was moved more than 6500 miles with three different guardians, without tacking a single mile on the speedometer.
I've loved these little bikes for years and I've been looking for a nice once since my mustache hair first started coming in (late bloomer). I'm in the process of restoring my own '77 CB550F (I think it's the next best thing because I didn't like the looks of the CB350F as much), but I'm so busy, it may be another year before I have a chance to fire that one up. So, I was secretly looking forward to my first test ride of this little four, even if it was months away. I figured, if I couldn't own one, the next best thing would be restoring one for some decent people. Maggie and Lou fit the bill perfectly.
The bike had been in the Perotta family since 1984 when Lou purchased it at the tender young age of just 14. This was shortly after he and Maggie had been introduced to motorcycles and dirt bike riding by their step-father, George. Lou described him as a "really great guy" who loved motorcycles and motorcycle racing. In the mid 1980s, George brought Lou to a road race at Louden Speedway in New Hampshire, where he and his racing partner had a bike entered in a race. At this event, Lou met George's partner and mechanic of the team's race bike. This skilled mechanic was also the original owner of a 1976 CB400F Supersport - this Supersport, which he sold to Lou later that year. Lou's point in telling me this was to emphasize how well maintained this bike was when he bought it. George also helped get Lou a job at a local motorcycle shop where he cleaned up and swept floors to earn a little money - the money he would use to buy this CB400.
With that bike in the garage, I'm sure Lou wasted no time getting a driver's license as soon as he could. It must have been really cool having a bike that nice at his age. And today, that bike triggers dozens of fond memories for Lou. That bright yellow Honda is not only a time capsule for Lou and Maggie, it's now something of a family heirloom. It's been a part of both of their lives for so many years. Lou told me, "As I got older, I dragged that bike everywhere with me." When he left Long Island for college at Virginia Tech, his buddy helped him load the bike in the back of Lou's Jeep Cherokee. When he graduated, he brought it back to Long Island and gave his future wife, Julie, a few rides on it. Then the bike moved with the couple down to the east coast of Florida. This was in the early 1990s. When the first of their children were born, Lou hung up the keys and the bike was silent for more than 30 years - even though it still continued to be moved across the country.
In 2000, as Lou and his young family were preparing to move to Atlanta, Maggie decided she wanted to take up riding again. So she had the bike shipped to New Jersey where she was living. But she never found the time to get it running. So, once again, the bike sat, waiting for the next move. After a few years, Maggie decided to move to Florida. She left the bike in the care of their uncle, who then took the Honda with him when he moved to Nebraska. A couple of years later, the uncle and aunt moved to the gulf coast of Florida, and guess what? The bike moved with them. After a few years in Florida, they sold their house to Maggie. The bike stayed in the garage and once again it returned to the possession of Lou's sister. A crazy story, right? Over thirty years, this bike was moved more than 6500 miles with three different guardians, without tacking a single mile on the speedometer.
Delivery and Evaluation
After speaking to Maggie, I agreed to stop by her home and take a look at the bike. As soon as I pulled up in the alley behind her home, I spotted the Honda. It was covered by more than three decades of thick dust, but sitting in her garage on flat and rotted tires was a hidden gem. Over the years, this little bike had traveled further than the distance from Florida to Kazakhstan, but its next stop would be my shop, where it would be given a new lease on life.
Below are some photos of the bike taken immediately after I rolled it off the trailer at my shop.
Below are some photos of the bike taken immediately after I rolled it off the trailer at my shop.
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Before I get going on any restoration, I inspect the bike as thoroughly as possible for obvious damage or issues. I take a lot of notes and pictures. If I'm not intimately familiar with a model, I'll start the process by doing some research to find out if there are known issues and the approximate market value when restored. I find it's also helpful to familiarize myself with parts availability as well.
Unfortunately, until I begin disassembly, or get it running, I can't determine the condition the engine. But, I also don't like attempting to pull pistons up and down in the potentially rusty cylinders of a machine that's been sitting for years. That's why I first treat the cylinders to avoid damage. Another thing to consider; until a good battery is installed, I really won't know if any or all of the electrical components work. So that somewhat limits my initial evaluation a motorcycle, but I can still check for obvious accident damage and worn components. I like to look for bent forks, handlebars or frames. If the turn signals or engine cases are broken or scratched, or if I find the wheels are out-of-true or dented, then I know there is potential for frame damage - which can be a big problem too. This bike didn't exhibit any obvious issues, other than a few light scratches on the left rear turn signal. It had been dropped at one time, but there were no scratches on the cases and the control levers were intact, so if it had been damaged, it had been repaired.
Unfortunately, until I begin disassembly, or get it running, I can't determine the condition the engine. But, I also don't like attempting to pull pistons up and down in the potentially rusty cylinders of a machine that's been sitting for years. That's why I first treat the cylinders to avoid damage. Another thing to consider; until a good battery is installed, I really won't know if any or all of the electrical components work. So that somewhat limits my initial evaluation a motorcycle, but I can still check for obvious accident damage and worn components. I like to look for bent forks, handlebars or frames. If the turn signals or engine cases are broken or scratched, or if I find the wheels are out-of-true or dented, then I know there is potential for frame damage - which can be a big problem too. This bike didn't exhibit any obvious issues, other than a few light scratches on the left rear turn signal. It had been dropped at one time, but there were no scratches on the cases and the control levers were intact, so if it had been damaged, it had been repaired.

I was told the bike hadn't been started in 30-plus years. A quick look at the front wheel revealed that someone had removed the front brake caliper and part of it was missing. I'm sure this was done because the brake hose had swollen and locked up the brake. The tires were dry rotted as expected, although the rims and spokes weren't too bad. The fender and fork tubes had some surface rust and a few deep pits.
Usually, the first casualty of an engine sitting for a long time is the carbs and fuel tank. A few weeks before I picked this bike up, I purchased a 1984 CBX1000 to restore. That bike had also been sitting in a garage, but only since 1995. Unlike this bike, the top of the CBX's fuel tank was nearly rotted away (see the repair on my maintenance page). The candy apple paint was so faded it revealed primer. That is fairly common. But, the fuel tank on this Supersport was in great shape, especially for a bike that had been sitting three decades or more. No obvious dents, just a few nicks and scratches. I immediately thought this little 4-cylinder might be a real good candidate for an original-paint, survivor restoration. When I opened the gas cap, I expected that nasty fuel-turned-varnish smell. But amazingly, the tank was bone dry with no smell and only a bit of surface rust. "Wow," I thought, "that never happens." The side panels were in place and the paint faded a bit, but they could be buffed out. When I opened up the seat, the thin plastic cover was falling apart, but the tool kit looked like it had never been opened. Cool.
Usually, the first casualty of an engine sitting for a long time is the carbs and fuel tank. A few weeks before I picked this bike up, I purchased a 1984 CBX1000 to restore. That bike had also been sitting in a garage, but only since 1995. Unlike this bike, the top of the CBX's fuel tank was nearly rotted away (see the repair on my maintenance page). The candy apple paint was so faded it revealed primer. That is fairly common. But, the fuel tank on this Supersport was in great shape, especially for a bike that had been sitting three decades or more. No obvious dents, just a few nicks and scratches. I immediately thought this little 4-cylinder might be a real good candidate for an original-paint, survivor restoration. When I opened the gas cap, I expected that nasty fuel-turned-varnish smell. But amazingly, the tank was bone dry with no smell and only a bit of surface rust. "Wow," I thought, "that never happens." The side panels were in place and the paint faded a bit, but they could be buffed out. When I opened up the seat, the thin plastic cover was falling apart, but the tool kit looked like it had never been opened. Cool.
The chain was almost rusted frozen and the sprockets were sharp and in need of replacement. On the other end, I noticed the dust caps on the forks were shot, but the seals were still holding. I'd replace all the caps and seals anyway. The fork tubes had a little surface rust but no deep pits in the area of travel.
This bike was starting to look like a quick restoration. I didn't really say that, did I? After 50 years of working on bikes, I know there is no such thing. It's a dream, a fallacy - a thought the motorcycle fairy puts in my head. I tell myself, "Don't believe it. Don't ever believe it! "
This bike was starting to look like a quick restoration. I didn't really say that, did I? After 50 years of working on bikes, I know there is no such thing. It's a dream, a fallacy - a thought the motorcycle fairy puts in my head. I tell myself, "Don't believe it. Don't ever believe it! "
You have to start somewhere...
After looking the bike over, I gave Maggie a call and threw out some very general, hourly-based prices for restoration. But rather than jump in with both feet, throwing money at the bike, I first suggested that I restore the bike in phases. The first phase would be to get the bike running. It that was successful, I would move to the next phase, which would be the general restoration of the bike's other components.
Getting the bike to fire up would require, at a minimum, four carb rebuild kits, fresh spark plugs, a battery, oil and filter. It terms of financing a restoration, this would require a relativity small financial commitment from the owner. If I could make the engine run, then it would be a much easier decision to restore the bike. I'd also have a better idea how much to charge. If I found the engine was not in serviceable condition, then Maggie and Lou would also have to finance a complete engine rebuild in addition to restoring the other components. Not an inexpensive undertaking on any vintage bike.
After looking the bike over, I gave Maggie a call and threw out some very general, hourly-based prices for restoration. But rather than jump in with both feet, throwing money at the bike, I first suggested that I restore the bike in phases. The first phase would be to get the bike running. It that was successful, I would move to the next phase, which would be the general restoration of the bike's other components.
Getting the bike to fire up would require, at a minimum, four carb rebuild kits, fresh spark plugs, a battery, oil and filter. It terms of financing a restoration, this would require a relativity small financial commitment from the owner. If I could make the engine run, then it would be a much easier decision to restore the bike. I'd also have a better idea how much to charge. If I found the engine was not in serviceable condition, then Maggie and Lou would also have to finance a complete engine rebuild in addition to restoring the other components. Not an inexpensive undertaking on any vintage bike.
The obvious starting point for the restoration would be the lubrication of the cylinders. This process would take a few weeks. While I was doing that, I could simultaneously tackle the other components needed to get the bike running.
I've found the best way to finish any project is to give yourself attainable goals. My initial objective of the restoration was to get the bike running. To do this, I'd need to meet some short-term targets. First, I had to get the cylinders, cams and valves moving freely. I'd also need good compression as well. Hopefully, I wouldn't have to pull the head. The second objective would be to install new points and plugs, then check the ignition timing. This would ensure a hot spark at the right time. The final short-term goal would be to rebuild the carburetors so they could provide the correct fuel mixture. With all this done, I should be able to start the engine. Short-term attainable goals - they work! These objectives did the trick and the engine started on the first attempt (see video below).
I've found the best way to finish any project is to give yourself attainable goals. My initial objective of the restoration was to get the bike running. To do this, I'd need to meet some short-term targets. First, I had to get the cylinders, cams and valves moving freely. I'd also need good compression as well. Hopefully, I wouldn't have to pull the head. The second objective would be to install new points and plugs, then check the ignition timing. This would ensure a hot spark at the right time. The final short-term goal would be to rebuild the carburetors so they could provide the correct fuel mixture. With all this done, I should be able to start the engine. Short-term attainable goals - they work! These objectives did the trick and the engine started on the first attempt (see video below).
I've been using an acetone/transmission fluid-based, penetrating oil to free stuck pistons for years. These pistons appeared to be free, but I was sure that rust was probably lining the cylinders. I didn't want to pull the head and I didn't believe it was necessary. So, I removed the plugs and carefully filled the cylinders with my slippery concoction.
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I let it sit for several days, then carefully rotated the cylinders a bit and added more fluid. I did this several times over a three-week period. This didn't delay the restoration because I was also disassembling and cleaning the carbs, as well as waiting for parts. A note of caution here: If you fill a cylinder with fluid and it doesn't seep past the rings, you may fully expect a bunch of nasty goo will shoot out the cylinder and across your garage if you push hard on the kickstart, or worse yet, if you use the electric start. The spark plugs must be out of the cylinder and you'll want to place rags on top of the open spark plug hole. Move the kick starter very slowly and do not use the electric start. Give the rags a little time to soak up the oil. Otherwise, you're going to create one hell of a mess.
Rebuilding the carbs
To look at the carbs from the outside, it would be reasonable to think they would probably be in pretty good condition. After all, the fuel tank was dry. Maybe someone drained the carbs as well. No such luck. When I pulled the float bowls off, I was greeted with some of the nastiest varnish and corrosion I had ever seen in a set of carbs.
To look at the carbs from the outside, it would be reasonable to think they would probably be in pretty good condition. After all, the fuel tank was dry. Maybe someone drained the carbs as well. No such luck. When I pulled the float bowls off, I was greeted with some of the nastiest varnish and corrosion I had ever seen in a set of carbs.
I outline the complete step-by-step process of rebuilding these CB400F carbs. If you'd like see how it was done, please follow this link to my Tech Help/Carburetion Section. Trust me, it's an interesting process.
First Engine Start
After rebuilding the carbs, I took some time to do a more thorough inspection of the engine. This was made easier because I had already removed the fuel tank and air box, which enabled removal of the carbs. I also pulled off the valve inspection caps. Before attempting to start the engine, I emptied the cylinders of the penetrating fluid I'd installed weeks before. The engine oil was drained and a new oil filter installed. After that, I checked the points, ignition timing and installed new spark plugs. If you're going to attempt a start up after 30-plus years, you want to give the engine the best possible chance to start. In addition to the work above, I also installed a new battery and did a preliminary check of the electrical system. Because of corrosion in many of the connections and in sockets, I think only one light worked. Not very promising. The horn didn't work, but I did have a good hot spark in all four plugs. And, I found out the starter button wasn't working either. Well, that's not exactly true. It did initially turn the starter, but the button wouldn't release the starter. The button was stuck in and wouldn't spring back out. So I had to turn off the running starter with the key. There was no chance the bike would start though, because the new plugs weren't in place yet. I was checking spark at the time.
After rebuilding the carbs, I took some time to do a more thorough inspection of the engine. This was made easier because I had already removed the fuel tank and air box, which enabled removal of the carbs. I also pulled off the valve inspection caps. Before attempting to start the engine, I emptied the cylinders of the penetrating fluid I'd installed weeks before. The engine oil was drained and a new oil filter installed. After that, I checked the points, ignition timing and installed new spark plugs. If you're going to attempt a start up after 30-plus years, you want to give the engine the best possible chance to start. In addition to the work above, I also installed a new battery and did a preliminary check of the electrical system. Because of corrosion in many of the connections and in sockets, I think only one light worked. Not very promising. The horn didn't work, but I did have a good hot spark in all four plugs. And, I found out the starter button wasn't working either. Well, that's not exactly true. It did initially turn the starter, but the button wouldn't release the starter. The button was stuck in and wouldn't spring back out. So I had to turn off the running starter with the key. There was no chance the bike would start though, because the new plugs weren't in place yet. I was checking spark at the time.
When I took the switch apart, I found the plastic holding the starter button had disintegrated into about 10 fragile, little parts. It was not going to be possible to put it back together, luckily there are reproduction (repop) switches available. So I ordered one and then dug an old, auxiliary starter button out of the bottom of my tool box. With starter button in hand, I turned on the key and gave the starter a spin. The video on the right is the first attempted start . With all the excitement of the moment, I made a few mistakes narrating the video. The bike is a '76; I said it was a '78. And, I said the motorcycle had not been running for 20 years. Thirty years would have been more accurate.
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With the bike running, I tried to run it through the gears. I had lubed and freed up the chain by this time. I attempted to put the bike in gear, but found the clutch was completely locked up. I started the bike in gear with the kickstarter, but after several attempts, I knew I wasn't going to be able to free the clutch without taking it apart first. So I decided to give the mechanical side of things a break and move onto something a little more fun (for me) the seat. It was not fun.
Recovering the seat
With the bike running, I moved onto the seat. No justifiable logic here, I just wanted a break from the mechanical side of things. Plus, the new cover had been delivered the day before. I was really pleased with the quality of the cover. It was relatively inexpensive but was every bit as good as the original cover, plus it included a new strap. Surprisingly, the little chrome buttons were more expensive than the cover.
I thought this would be a really straight forward process, after all, I recovered many seats and have even sewn my own seat covers before. But, a close look at the seat revealed several deep cracks in the seat base. I think these originated with the moves and the thick ratchet straps used by muscular movers who were used to strapping down things like pianos. They also bent the handle bars and top of the fuel tank near the filler spout - the strongest spot on the tank. These cracks in the seat pan would have to be welded and the seat repainted before installation of the cover.
With the bike running, I moved onto the seat. No justifiable logic here, I just wanted a break from the mechanical side of things. Plus, the new cover had been delivered the day before. I was really pleased with the quality of the cover. It was relatively inexpensive but was every bit as good as the original cover, plus it included a new strap. Surprisingly, the little chrome buttons were more expensive than the cover.
I thought this would be a really straight forward process, after all, I recovered many seats and have even sewn my own seat covers before. But, a close look at the seat revealed several deep cracks in the seat base. I think these originated with the moves and the thick ratchet straps used by muscular movers who were used to strapping down things like pianos. They also bent the handle bars and top of the fuel tank near the filler spout - the strongest spot on the tank. These cracks in the seat pan would have to be welded and the seat repainted before installation of the cover.
Once all the cracks were identified, I ground down the base around the cracks and used a TIG welder to repair it. I then ground down the welds, primered and painted the seat base. Finally, back on track, I could now start installing the cover.
The key to getting the seat cover right is to center it properly - both from the left to right side, as well as front to back. But first, you have to make sure the foam is sitting correctly on the pan. Then, keeping the cover straight on the pan, you perforate the cover with the sharp little angular holders that are cut into the pan. These are used to keep the cover in place. I like to work from side to side to keep the cover straight.
If you'd like to see all the steps of recovering a motorcycle seat, or you want to learn to do this yourself, please check back in a few weeks. I hope to have dozens of photos and tips posted along with some videos in my Tech Help section soon. If it's not there, please check back frequently.
If you'd like to see all the steps of recovering a motorcycle seat, or you want to learn to do this yourself, please check back in a few weeks. I hope to have dozens of photos and tips posted along with some videos in my Tech Help section soon. If it's not there, please check back frequently.
Fuel tank restoration
Even through three decades of dust and grime, the paint on the fuel tank, side panels and most of the frame looked good enough to buff and keep.
I usually end up painting most bikes I restore. I really like the process of making something old look new again. And, I guess I may be a bit obsessive about the looks of a bike. I do love that factory-new look. But, when I run across a potential survivor - and it's not often - I do my best to keep the paint as intact as possible. After years of painting and buffing, I've come up with lots of techniques, tools and materials for buffing and polishing different types of paints and metals. In most cases, I've figured out what polish, materials and techniques to use to make old paint look new again. Attempting this can be dicey at times, but I've buffed 60-year-old paint jobs to a brilliant finish without any noticeable loss of paint. It takes lots and lots of practice. Someday I plan on posting some of my buffing techniques on the Tech-Help section of this website. Be sure to check back if this interests you.
Even through three decades of dust and grime, the paint on the fuel tank, side panels and most of the frame looked good enough to buff and keep.
I usually end up painting most bikes I restore. I really like the process of making something old look new again. And, I guess I may be a bit obsessive about the looks of a bike. I do love that factory-new look. But, when I run across a potential survivor - and it's not often - I do my best to keep the paint as intact as possible. After years of painting and buffing, I've come up with lots of techniques, tools and materials for buffing and polishing different types of paints and metals. In most cases, I've figured out what polish, materials and techniques to use to make old paint look new again. Attempting this can be dicey at times, but I've buffed 60-year-old paint jobs to a brilliant finish without any noticeable loss of paint. It takes lots and lots of practice. Someday I plan on posting some of my buffing techniques on the Tech-Help section of this website. Be sure to check back if this interests you.
The buffing removed residue from old decals and light scratches. There were a few nicks in the paint, but a good waxing would keep them from rusting. There was one issue I did not attempt to resolve. During one of the moves, someone had placed a wide ratchet strap over the tank and cinched it down so tight it bent the handlebars and pushed in the filler neck just slightly. If you look closely, you can see a little dip right behind the filler cap. I could have repaired this, but there was a distinct risk of damaging the paint. Since it is so hard to see, I let it go. Most people will never notice it.
As I mentioned before, the inside of the tank was really very clean except for some light surface rust. These days, if the rust is light, I don't coat the tank with epoxy anymore. I flush the tank, sometimes with an acid wash, and then treat it with a very expensive rust stopping chemical invented for the maritime shipping industry. I've used this several times with excellent results.
As I mentioned before, the inside of the tank was really very clean except for some light surface rust. These days, if the rust is light, I don't coat the tank with epoxy anymore. I flush the tank, sometimes with an acid wash, and then treat it with a very expensive rust stopping chemical invented for the maritime shipping industry. I've used this several times with excellent results.
Engine
At first I couldn't decided if I should pull off the oil pan. Honda fours -- let's just say almost all Honda products --have a reputation for being absolutely reliable, even under the worst conditions. This Honda had been exposed to some pretty rough elements. It sat absolutely idle in a hot Florida garage for many of those 30 years. For 8 months out of the year it had been exposed to 90-plus degree, sub-tropical heat as well as excessive humidity. That's plenty long enough to rust many a good engine in place. I've been living and working in Florida all my life. For those of you who don't live here let me be clear. Our heat and humidity kills machines. It can turn gasoline in nearly empty tanks and carbs into sticky varnish in a matter of months. It can leave a layer of rust on cylinder walls in weeks. Keeping a motorcycle in central and south Florida is almost as bad as leaning a motorcycle against a tree in a south-Asian jungle. I wasn't really too surprised by the poor condition of the inside of the carbs. But I was pleasantly surprised that the bike ran so well after sitting so long. But, something kept bugging me. So I decided to check the oil even though the bike had only been running a few minutes. What I found was not good. The oil was black and the new filter had sludge on the paper element. I immediately pulled the oil pan and checked the sump filter. It turned out to be a great decision.
The pan was caked with thick, gooey, nearly petrified oil. I should have known better. This problem has killed more vintage Triumphs, BSAs and /2 BMWs than anything else I can name, other than accidents. Unlike the most Hondas, these bikes didn't come with good oil filtering systems. They relied on a slinger system and used a simple sludge trap rather than a filter. If you put a modern detergent oil in a bike that's been sitting a for years, the oil breaks down the old hardened oil and allows little pieces of hardened oil to block the oil passages in the crankshaft, the cam shaft and other critical places. This will ruin a good engine in no time. I've done it myself on a beautiful, low mileage 1969 R60 BMW. At least with the Honda you have a nice sludge filter and an oil filter to slow down the process a bit.
The pictures below will show you how oil sludge nearly blocked the oil intake on this bike.
At first I couldn't decided if I should pull off the oil pan. Honda fours -- let's just say almost all Honda products --have a reputation for being absolutely reliable, even under the worst conditions. This Honda had been exposed to some pretty rough elements. It sat absolutely idle in a hot Florida garage for many of those 30 years. For 8 months out of the year it had been exposed to 90-plus degree, sub-tropical heat as well as excessive humidity. That's plenty long enough to rust many a good engine in place. I've been living and working in Florida all my life. For those of you who don't live here let me be clear. Our heat and humidity kills machines. It can turn gasoline in nearly empty tanks and carbs into sticky varnish in a matter of months. It can leave a layer of rust on cylinder walls in weeks. Keeping a motorcycle in central and south Florida is almost as bad as leaning a motorcycle against a tree in a south-Asian jungle. I wasn't really too surprised by the poor condition of the inside of the carbs. But I was pleasantly surprised that the bike ran so well after sitting so long. But, something kept bugging me. So I decided to check the oil even though the bike had only been running a few minutes. What I found was not good. The oil was black and the new filter had sludge on the paper element. I immediately pulled the oil pan and checked the sump filter. It turned out to be a great decision.
The pan was caked with thick, gooey, nearly petrified oil. I should have known better. This problem has killed more vintage Triumphs, BSAs and /2 BMWs than anything else I can name, other than accidents. Unlike the most Hondas, these bikes didn't come with good oil filtering systems. They relied on a slinger system and used a simple sludge trap rather than a filter. If you put a modern detergent oil in a bike that's been sitting a for years, the oil breaks down the old hardened oil and allows little pieces of hardened oil to block the oil passages in the crankshaft, the cam shaft and other critical places. This will ruin a good engine in no time. I've done it myself on a beautiful, low mileage 1969 R60 BMW. At least with the Honda you have a nice sludge filter and an oil filter to slow down the process a bit.
The pictures below will show you how oil sludge nearly blocked the oil intake on this bike.
After cleaning the oil pan I had no more concerns about the oil. After several hours of running the bike, the oil continues to look clear. However, I suggested the owner change the oil and filter every 3,000 miles or once a year just to be safe.
Now, I had to fix that problem with the clutch. For anyone who's never disassembled a clutch, the key is to go slow, place your parts in order and be organized. These old clutch cases can sometimes be a pain to get off. The key is to be sure you remove all the screws from the case. That includes the hard to see screws on the bottom of the cover. |
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If the case is all covered in grease, it's easy to miss a screw on the bottom. I've seen people really damage cases by attempting to insert a screw driver between the cases to pry them off. Never do that! This video shows an easy way to remove a stuck case with just the few taps of a small hammer. I like to use an old leather hammer, but a plastic or rubber hammer will work too without damaging the case.
The reason old clutches stick together is because the friction plates have bonded to the metal discs. As oil hardens over the years, the thin film that rests between the plates becomes sticky and glue-like. Even though stuck, they can usually be pried apart with your fingers. If they don't separate easily, you can always soak them in a little brake cleaner or acetone. It should only take a few minutes for them to come apart.
In most cases, if I've taken the time to disassemble and clean the clutch, then I'm going to use new parts if available. It is, however, possible to clean the discs and friction plates and reuse them - important to know if you're on a real tight budget. Of course, if the bonded portion of the friction plate is coming apart they cannot be reused.
In most cases, if I've taken the time to disassemble and clean the clutch, then I'm going to use new parts if available. It is, however, possible to clean the discs and friction plates and reuse them - important to know if you're on a real tight budget. Of course, if the bonded portion of the friction plate is coming apart they cannot be reused.
While I had the case cover off, I took the time to vapor blast it. This is the only way to return a non-painted case to the original factory look. In the photo below of the polished case, take a good look at the inside where the clutch lever resides. This is the original Honda finish. We blasted the clutch case with the lever cover in place to keep the original finish as a reference. You can see the finished product looks very similar to original area inside the compartment where the clutch lever is usually seen.
The left side of the engine was also blasted. After blasting we used a high heat, chemical-resistant clear coat, just as Honda did. Ours is a bit more glossy, but we are now using a flatter clear coat. We also have a high-heat silver paint that exactly matches the vintage Honda case paint. The center of the cases and the valve cover are painted at the factory. Below are before and after comparisons of the cases.
These photos reveal the stark differences before and after vapor blasting. If you're restoring a bike and need vapor blasting service. Please contact me.
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Wheels and Hubs
With the engine completed, Jim, my new business partner, helped me take on the wheels and brakes. The only really unusual thing we did here was to preserve the original spokes and wheels. Normally, we'd install new spokes and rims, but our goal was to try to keep this bike as original as possible. The rims were in good shape but about a quarter of the spokes on each wheel had surface rust. So we blasted the hubs, rims and spokes in our vapor blaster. When finished, the spokes had the original cadmium look, and the chrome wasn't damaged, but, we knew there was a potential for rusting if we didn't treat the spokes. So we put a high polish on the rims and then clear coated both the rims and spokes. It was a bit of an experiment for us, as we hadn't done this before. In retrospect, it saved the owner a lot of money, and kept the bike original. As long as the bike is stored inside, the coating should last many years.
With the engine completed, Jim, my new business partner, helped me take on the wheels and brakes. The only really unusual thing we did here was to preserve the original spokes and wheels. Normally, we'd install new spokes and rims, but our goal was to try to keep this bike as original as possible. The rims were in good shape but about a quarter of the spokes on each wheel had surface rust. So we blasted the hubs, rims and spokes in our vapor blaster. When finished, the spokes had the original cadmium look, and the chrome wasn't damaged, but, we knew there was a potential for rusting if we didn't treat the spokes. So we put a high polish on the rims and then clear coated both the rims and spokes. It was a bit of an experiment for us, as we hadn't done this before. In retrospect, it saved the owner a lot of money, and kept the bike original. As long as the bike is stored inside, the coating should last many years.
Forks and Front Brake
Other than faded and peeling clear coat and huge parking and inspection decals, the fork lowers were in good shape. The stanchions (fork tubes) weren't bad either except for a little surface rust. There was a small bit of pitting near the top of the tube, but this was diminished greatly with aggressive polishing. The customer requested we remove the old parking and inspection stickers so we did. Of course, I disassembled and cleaned the fork tubes and installed good, high quality seals, new fork caps and good fork fluid. Interestingly, the Honda manual for this bike simply calls for the use of transmission fluid in the forks.
Other than faded and peeling clear coat and huge parking and inspection decals, the fork lowers were in good shape. The stanchions (fork tubes) weren't bad either except for a little surface rust. There was a small bit of pitting near the top of the tube, but this was diminished greatly with aggressive polishing. The customer requested we remove the old parking and inspection stickers so we did. Of course, I disassembled and cleaned the fork tubes and installed good, high quality seals, new fork caps and good fork fluid. Interestingly, the Honda manual for this bike simply calls for the use of transmission fluid in the forks.
With the engine running and the wheels back on, it was time to start the detail work. There were lots of small repairs, like the cracked headlight shell and the tach that wouldn't climb above 1000 rpms. When I was reassembling the steering head and greasing the bearings, I noticed the right side of the handle bar drooped down slightly. Like the fuel tank, it had obviously been bent by movers when they tightened ratchet straps. So, the handlebars would need to be replaced too. That would also be the logical time to replace the starter switch as well. To make sure I didn't forget anything, I created a punch list of about 25 items I needed to address before delivering the bike. Some of those items are pictured below:
The finished product
This restoration was a really enjoyable project. There are several reasons for that: First, this was a motorcycle I have always desired. I couldn't wait to hear it run for the first time and I also couldn't wait to take it for a spin. So, I didn't mind seeing it in my garage every day for several months. Second, even though stored for years, this bike was complete and running when it was put away 30 years ago. It was never left outside in the rain or snow. It wasn't wrecked. It wasn't used in bombing practice by the National Guard. It hadn't been abused by ham-handed mechanics (which is about as bad as being bombed by an F16). Finally, the bike wasn't brought to me in several boxes. I've had more "basket case" projects than I care to admit and I really don't like them. I just finished a BMW that took me almost a year to piece back together. When the boxes of parts for my customer's R100 were delivered, I immediately noticed parts that didn't belong. After hours of inventorying the contents of the boxes, I found there were parts from three different year models. Many would not fit our project bike. There were even Yamaha parts in the box. This made things more difficult and frustrating than need be. That's why I like complete and unmolested bikes.
This the nice little Honda progressed quickly, not only because of the reasons above, but also because I didn't have any real issues finding the parts I needed. In the past, I've waited for months or even years to finish bikes because I couldn't get or fabricate critical components. If you're looking for a bike to restore, I suggest you take these factors into consideration.
Another thing that made this an enjoyable project were the owners of the bike. They shared their stories about this motorcycle and their family, they communicated with me frequently, followed my recommendations and helped me in every way possible to progress this project. I want to thank Lou and Maggie for entrusting me with their very prized time capsule. I did my best to meet their expectations and I hope this little Honda brings them, and their families, much joy in the future. In some small way, this project helped us all take a jab back at the virus!
This the nice little Honda progressed quickly, not only because of the reasons above, but also because I didn't have any real issues finding the parts I needed. In the past, I've waited for months or even years to finish bikes because I couldn't get or fabricate critical components. If you're looking for a bike to restore, I suggest you take these factors into consideration.
Another thing that made this an enjoyable project were the owners of the bike. They shared their stories about this motorcycle and their family, they communicated with me frequently, followed my recommendations and helped me in every way possible to progress this project. I want to thank Lou and Maggie for entrusting me with their very prized time capsule. I did my best to meet their expectations and I hope this little Honda brings them, and their families, much joy in the future. In some small way, this project helped us all take a jab back at the virus!
Great quick review on the 400F
Peter Arcidicano has a lot in common with me. For starters, we both love vintage motorcycles and we're both meticulous restorers. Our love for these bikes, and the craft of restoration, can't be calculated in monetary sums or by the number of bikes we own, but only by the time we've devoted to making these old machines new again.
Peter and I have also both restored some really nice CB400Fs. Below is a link to an article with a couple of bikes Peter restored for a customer:
https://ultimatemotorcycling.com/2009/09/14/1975_honda_cb400f_super_sport_motorcycle_review/
Peter Arcidicano has a lot in common with me. For starters, we both love vintage motorcycles and we're both meticulous restorers. Our love for these bikes, and the craft of restoration, can't be calculated in monetary sums or by the number of bikes we own, but only by the time we've devoted to making these old machines new again.
Peter and I have also both restored some really nice CB400Fs. Below is a link to an article with a couple of bikes Peter restored for a customer:
https://ultimatemotorcycling.com/2009/09/14/1975_honda_cb400f_super_sport_motorcycle_review/