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Like a lot of people I was looking for something cheap and reliable. This usually means ending up with a slow and boring motorcycle which sends you to sleep before it gets to 60mph. The aptly named Dream (as in zzzzzzzz) always seemed to me a perfect example of this type. I'd ridden plenty of the 250s and wasn't impressed, to say the least.
The steering and handling were okay, but the performance was pathetic. So when I saw an early 400 advertised for what appeared to be a reasonable price I didn't exactly leap out of the bath screaming Eureka (real bikers don't have baths anyway).
It looked in good condition, with about 14000 miles on the clock. Its previous owner had been a member of the plod squad, no less. Naturally, I was immediately suspicious. He'd obviously been a keen Chips viewer and had kitted his own bike out as a small fry imitation of the genre - tinted screen, crash bar mounted lights, etc. Mechanically, it was standard.... even the silencers and FVQ shocks were original! Apart from the embarrassment of being seen riding the thing, I couldn't think of a good reason for not buying it, so a smallish wad of notes changed hands there and then.
Once out on the open road, I was pleasantly surprised. The engine pulled well at all revs up to the redline at 10,000rpm; even a bit above, and the handling seemed fine. My last bikes had been a Ducati Darmah and a Bonnie, so my riding style needed a bit of adjustment at first, but the performance certainly couldn't have been described as flat.
Indeed, after a few miles I was forced to come to the conclusion that it was as fast as the Triumph most of the time. Even in top gear pulling power the Honda wouldn't have been disgraced. I was amazed to discover that one particular hill where the Bonnie had needed fourth or even third, the Honda could climb easily without cogging down.
Of course, part of the secret lies in lower overall gearing (10mph/1000rpm in top) but it was impressive, nevertheless. Maybe three valve heads and power chamber exhausts really do work. Flat out it was good for the ton, but I always thought it had enough power to cope with slightly raised gearing, which might have gained a bit more speed.
It certainly wouldn't have harmed the fuel consumption, which refused to go above 50mpg however slowly I rode. Compared with the Bonnie, the 400lb, 398cc Japanese twin used slightly more petrol than the heavier Brit with almost twice the displacement. Although when you consider that the average speed was similar it begins to make sense. Oil consumption, like all the Hondas I've owned, was practically zero between changes - why aren't Yamahas and Suzukis as good?
After a few thousand miles of faultless running, the rear tyre was getting a bit on the thin side, so one of the old style Roadrunners which had fallen off the back of something replaced it. The combination of a TT100 and Avon, which often made other bikes wobble into oblivion, suited the Dream perfectly.
It wasn't exactly Ducati like in the way it held a line through bends but the steering managed to keep the right balance between sensitivity and twitchiness. This orderly behaviour came to an abrupt halt soon after when one of the FVQs lived up to its unofficial name and faded very quickly. In a matter of days it sprewed out its oil (good job they only hold about 0.3cc or it might've made a nasty mess on the swinging arm) and lost damping completely.
A one shock Dream was bad enough in handling precision terms, but when its partner went the same way it turned into a nightmare. It bounced, weaved and rattled so badly over the bumps that I nearly started to believe that MOTs were a worthwhile idea. Sanity returned when I realised that all you had to do was ride slower. As it was impossible to ride fast in this state the conclusion has to be that a bike with worn suspension is actually safer. I rest my case.......and my broken leg.
Servicing was simple. Screw and locknut tappets, set for life electronic ignition, easy camchain adjustment.....what more could you want? All right, I'll tell you. A camchain that lasts longer than 18000 miles, that's what.
Part of the problem was that the tensioner's spring couldn't summon up enough energy to push the blade out to the limit of its travel. A bit of manual assistance (Haynes and fingers) pushed things in the right direction to quell the clatter for a while, but the writing was definitely on the wall for my Hy-vo.
Replacing the chain isn't a huge job. Just drop the engine out, split the crankcases, remove the camshaft and Sochiro's your uncle......it's done in less time than it takes to start an MZ with a fouled spark plug.
It's interesting that when the CB400T replaced the 400 four, which had become a legend in its own launch time, most people were expecting it to be inferior in every way. Having done many thousands of miles on both, I'd say that the F was only better in its engine smoothness and exhaust note. The Dream had more power in all situations and its road performance was far superior. The four only went properly over 7000rpm and needed constant gear changing to keep on the boil.
Great fun for a while but very tiring on long journeys. Quite how the 400/4 gained its reputation for handling, I don't know. If you examine the bike closely both the frame and suspension are very similar to those of the old CB250K or G5 which were a yardstick in mediocrity. Only the weight distribution and riding position seemed any different on the four, so could it really be that much better?
The twins, introduced in 1977, had a more rigid frame, forks, swinging arm and wheels, greater power and torque plus superior cornering clearance: no contest. Probably, what put people off was the association with the L plate 250 version and dumpy styling. Luckily, you can't see it when you're riding it, so the latter aspect can be avoided.
To me, the worst thing about the Dream was the deafening whirring noise it made - the screen on my bike had reflected the racket back at me and added to the problem. Any surviving exhaust sound was completely drowned out and I was almost looking forward to the day when the balancer box rotted away....almost, because I knew that when it did I'd lose about 10hp. That thing really does work!
I had no other problems with the bike before I sold it to get something bigger again, but maybe I was lucky. Electronic ignition failure, along with the usual Honda top end troubles are common.
The 400 Superdream with smoother styling and six speed box plus better brakes is a more sensible buy, I suppose, unless price is the only consideration. Overall, then, a few months of Dreaming left me with the impression that these oft maligned bikes were actually a useful hack in 400cc form....I still hate the 250s though!
R.A.Ker
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The CB250N was not in a bad condition for £185. The big disadvantage of getting the Wet Dream was a considerable loss of street cred among certain of my friends with whom I had spent many enjoyable hours taking the piss out of such machines. I kept telling myself it was cheap! The ride home through the Oxfordshire countryside was uneventful, except for a little skittering on the residue of some overenthusiastic road repairs.
My initial impression was that it was either lacking power or had a surplus of weight. It was considerably more sluggish than a very ratty CB250RS which I had the misfortune to own some time previously. Handling was not spectacular and took a bit of getting used to, but on reflection was probably not too dire.
The next day I rode the machine to work, about 17 miles of dual carriageway then 2 miles into town. It went fine. Returning home was not the same story. About 7 miles from home the revs shot up and the bike gently slowed down; the chain had decided to go AWOL. £25 poorer for a new chain after a lift to a bike shop, I was back on the road.
The Honda was used nearly every day for a couple of months. I changed the oil every 1500 miles and the filter every other oil change. Rumour has it that frequent oil changes on small rice grinders improve engine life considerably and this has been borne out in my experience.
After moving house, I had the choice of the insanity of the A40 west of Oxford or the back lanes. I tended to use the latter, it was more fun and I felt that I would be less likely to be killed by a yuppie type commuting into London. It's true, they do commute from beyond Oxford.
The top end was somewhere around 80mph, and it would cruise at 65 to possibly 70mph. Acceleration was nothing special, and I never bothered to find out the 0-60mph time. Fuel consumption was heavy for a 250, it returned between 45 and 55mpg depending on the degree of thrashing. Servicing was generally straight forward. I discovered that the split pin holding the camchain tensioner pin at the top of the tensioner had been replaced by a bent nail. Sometimes the tensioner sticks even if you have adjusted the bolt - check with the rocker cover off and loosen with a large hammer and chisel. A naff camchain can seize up the engine after tangling the valves, slowness with the clutch lever results in a seized back wheel and brown underwear or worse.
I found that comfort was adequate over short and medium distances but long distance work was a bit of a struggle. the clutch was fairly light and never cause me any hardship. The twin front discs (off a 400) were effective and the rear drum was adequate, able to lock the wheel. My pillion was short in leg and found some degree of difficulty in climbing aboard but noted that the broad seat was considerably more comfortable than that of the old RS.
Even a light pillion had a very noticeable effect on performance and top speed was reduced by up to 15mph. The horn produced a gentle bleat which would not even perturb the most timid granny let along provide appropriate admonishment to a Volvo driver. The instruments were the standard Honda items and were functional at best.
As time went by the engine became noisier. No amount of adjustment of the tappets or camchain quietened it. A can of STP made a considerable improvement and also cured one or two oil weeps. The tyres lasted well and I did not have to replace them in the 5000 miles I put on the bike. I ended up swapping that Wet Dream for a DT125 as I fancied a bit of trail riding.
The second Wet Dream was a 400 version which I acquired three years later. I was desperate for transport having had to sell my R80GS and needing something cheap. The 400 was a prime example of a rat bike and needed some work. £30 with no MOT, tax, good tyres, good exhaust and a K & Q seat. There was quite a bit of rot on the rear mudguard and the brackets on the carrier had fractured. The engine was covered in oil but started and seemed to run fine. A spare engine and other bits were thrown in.
The rolling chassis turned out to be in good nick, not a speck of rust on the Motad, the chain still had some life left and the paint was almost free of scratches. I was well chuffed. The engine rattled gently as I pottered along. The front brake was as effective as I recalled on the old 250, but the back brake felt strangely spongy - the pinch bolt on the brake operating arm was missing. After fixing that it passed the MOT.
The power was a considerable improvement over the 250 and it proved a very reasonable commuter. I was at that stage living in London so the bulk of riding was in town. The rattle gradually increased in volume and I had to keep feeding it oil at the rate of a pint a week, which leaked out of the engine, attracting grime. I decided to use the best bits of the two engines; the job was done in a day!
After putting the new mill into the frame and connecting all the bits it coughed into life on the first press of the starter. I was totally incredulous and deeply suspicious. My suspicions were well founded. On trying the kickstart there was the ominous sound of a return spring coming away from its stop. I could not ignore this as upon starting the engine with the electric foot a loud rasping sound was heard. Oh well, drain the oil, strip off the casing and replace.
Try again. Same Result. Consult Haynes manual, no enlightment. Repeat procedure. Consult manual again, no help from the pictures so try reading the text. What the hell is a spring guide and what does it look like? I could find no pictures and nothing in the pile of bits seemed to fit the bill. It was getting dark and I was getting well pissed off. My other half had shown great wisdom and had disappeared, leaving me cursing in the gathering dark. It must have been one of those missing bits. I took the only course of action left - reassemble the heap and leave the kickstart lever off to prevent accidental operation and subsequent dislocation of the spring. That seemed to do the trick.
By then it was dark. I decided to run the motor for a short while to see if anything would fall off or go bang. After two minutes at about 3000rpm all seemed well, except that the exhaust gaskets were blowing slightly. I looked at them, only to see that the tops of the downpipes were red hot. I was a bit concerned at this, but then remembered that the tops of the downpipes on BMWs glow slightly when being thrashed. As the pipes on parallel twins are tucked out of sight when riding you don't notice if the pipes have become a little warm.
I allowed a couple of minutes for the pipes to cool before tightening them. This was not long enough and the resulting burn elicited a stream of curses. I rode the machine home. The rattle had been reduced a bit but the oil leak was worse than before. So, I just kept on riding and topping up as and when needed. It is still running, rattling and leaking, to date has been totally reliable, having been used almost every day commuting in the middle of London. As an exciting sports machine, forget it, but as a commuter machine with no pretensions about being anything other than a transportation utensil it is great.
To summarise, the Dreams are definitely commuter machines, with the 250 version suffering from being very underpowered. Still, if you are satisfied with a machine which accelerates in a manner reminiscent of a slug with a pin up its arse then it would suit you down to the ground. The 400 has adequate power and performance for a commuter/short distance tourer but appalling fuel consumption (39-45mpg). As cheap hacks they are great but don't expect them to be a suitable mount for a boy racer. The examples I have owned have provided me with good dependable service but not a great deal of excitement.
Sandy R.
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You learn something new every day, but I never expected to find anyone singing the praises of a CB400T. Just to put the glowing report that appeared in an earlier edition of the UMG in perspective, let me tell you about the most horrible, ugly motorcycle I've ever had the misfortune to own.
Things were bad enough even before the Honda darkened my garage door. Picture the scene: I was sitting in a grotty pub, half drunk on bad beer and in the middle of an epic relationship crisis with my girlfriend. Then in walks Fat Eddie, a distant acquaintance and well known pain in the neck. He caught sight of me despite my best efforts to hide under my leather jacket, wheezed up to us and, oblivious to the fact that both of us were in stinking bad moods, sat down and began one of his rambling hard luck stories.
It seemed he had been laid off from his job at the custard factory and was desperate to sell his bike. In the end I agreed to buy his 1978 400 Dream for a hundred quid, mainly just to get ride of him. Besides, I thought, a 400 can't be bad for that sort of money, an economical twin with a bit of poke would be useful for short trips. I imagined that I might even make a profit on the thing. Little did I know....
The next evening I'd almost forgotten about Eddie and his problems, when he chugged up on the Honda, all smiles, reminding me of my foolishness. The bike didn't look too bad from a distance, had all its document and the engine sounded alright, so the deal was closed with one of Eddie's clammy handshakes. He even left me his helmet, which smelt so unhygienic that I threw it in the bin. I should have dumped the Honda in there while I was about it.
I was too busy to pay any attention to the bike for the next two months and the Honda sat in the garage meanwhile, doing nothing much. Then one awful day I smacked my Katana into a minibus, and the 400 became my sole form of transport. The CB400T, also called the Dream, had 42000 miles on the clock and according to the logbook had been owned by twelve people in its 13 years.
In the cold light of day, the Honda was a sight to make your eyes sore. It had bulbous, bulging styling that made it look as squat as a toad. The lumpy image was reinforced by hideous Comstar wheels. A sidepanel was missing, revealing a spaghetti like mess of wiring and the most ghastly Motad exhaust system I'd ever seen jutted out from the back at a crazy angle. I couldn't believe I'd bought the thing, but it started okay on a freshly charged battery, so off I went on a test ride.
The bike chugged along well enough, and there were no obvious steering problems but it smoked a bit under acceleration. On a straight stretch I thought I'd open it up to see what it would do and twisting back the throttle to the stop....hang on, it was already there. It was true, I was flat out already at 70mph. The engine sounded a bit clattery but by no means straining, so I took it back for a full service.
This was where the horrors began. I went to drain the oil and was stunned to find no sump nut. My mouth hung open in appalled disbelief as I discovered that there wasn't one; the nut was missing and the hole had been plugged with chemical metal. I managed to remove some of the old oil with a plastic tube and a bicycle pump, but as it was I needn't have bothered. During the next week oil leaks developed around the base gasket, tacho drive and gearbox, so that as the old oil dribbled out I could replace it with new stuff. A gasket set costs a fortune for this old model, so after a while I took a leaf out of Eddie's book and filled the leaks from the outside with chemical metal. It pretty much worked, too!
Most of the remaining threads were knackered, including the ones holding the brake caliper to the forks and the screws giving access to the brake fluid reservoir, all of which were either frozen solid or went round and round all the time. I also couldn't get the front wheel off since the thread had gone on the spindle nut. Servicing the front disc thus was impossible, and it's not surprising that the brake was so spongy. On the other hand, once cleaned the rear drum was very responsive.
Next, I checked the carbs. The float bowls were full of a reddish sludge, perhaps the legacy of some abortive experiment with Redex. The jets matched, but both were distorted from being screwed in too tightly. Most of the parts for the Dream are to be found on the more common Superdream, so I fitted used jets from that. I peeked in the exhaust ports while I was painting the exhaust black and the whole show looked full of coke deposits (no stupid, not the sort that goes up your nose!).
I didn't have the patience to strip and clean the cylinder head myself, and had it done in a garage for a very reasonable forty quid. Now the bike would struggle up to 85mph, but the chassis didn't feel very safe and cornering was precarious. New shocks, tyres and steering head bearings might have cured this but there was no way I was going to spend more cash on the thing. Acceleration was dreadful - it sort of gradually built up to its top speed over about a minute. The bike had nothing going for it, unless you wanted a sort of grown up Yamaha Townmate with inferior handling, looks and economy.
I used the bike for 3000 miles and it gradually became more and more disgusting to look at. The oil leaks attracted dirt, the tank was rusting under the badges and the mudguards had leprosy. In fact, the whole bike had an irreversible wasting disease. The seat cover had been recovered with leather, which sounds good except that it wasn't waterproof, soaking the copious foam padding beneath it and giving me a wet bum every time I rode it. Short of wearing waterproof trousers even in blazing sunshine, I put up with the discomfort manfully.
But, my hatred of the Honda was growing. It comes to something when you go out in the morning and have to get on a machine you utterly despise. I had two breakdowns, a snapped throttle and a problem with the cush drive, neither too serious, but I saw it all as part of a conspiracy hatched by the Honda to try my patience. My friends gradually stopped asking me out on runs because they were embarrassed to be seen with the Dream. Even my girlfriend wouldn't go pillion and I became the butt of jokes. Kids would laugh as I chugged past, my mates would vanish into the distance whilst I was left with nothing to do but hold the throttle fully open and recite the famous liturgy so well known to all Dream pilots: Here all day I sit and ponder, Why the hell do I ride a bloody Honda?
Only when the Katana was finally and expensively fixed could I sell the Dream. I advertised it for fifty quid since it only had three weeks MOT left and I couldn't see any way it would ever get through. It was bought for spares in the end, and I was so delighted to see it go that I spent the money on a party!
When I'm in an optimistic mood, I can imagine that under the right circumstances a CB400T might be a reasonable bike. There was no question that my bike had been terribly maintained by at least one of its previous owners, if not all twelve. I hated the looks of the thing and so did everyone I know, but some people might possibly regard the styling as classic. If the bike really can do over the ton, then it might even be quite versatile. But my advice is to stay well clear. Or buy a Townmate instead.
S.King
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I wondered how the original shocks had survived 54000 miles and 15 years. I mean, they were shit the moment they came out of the factory and leaked away a few miles later. CB250T's were renown for a lot more problems besides, but how the guy had avoided riding right off the road with that dead back suspension beggered belief. As did putting that kind of mileage on an apparently original engine - the screws were as they came out of the factory, untouched by a screwdriver.
The motor still ran but acceleration wouldn't cause a Honda Melody any concern. The owner reckoned it was a classic in the making until I pointed out all the white smoke coming out of the engine breather. Blown pistons or burnt valves; maybe both! We agreed to differ on his £500 price tag. I left him my phone number, told him any time he wanted to accept fifty quid to give me a bell. Two weeks later the bike was in my hands.
I thought I might as well ride the gutless heap around for a while. I put some ancient Girlings on the back straight away. They were so far gone that they only worked because the springs were about twice as hard as justified by the Dream's 400lbs, the total lack of damping not being important.
The Dream had a slightly top heavy feel but seemed quite sound. The forks had gaiters, a brace and a stiffness that matched the back end - either rusted solid or half a dozen washers added to each leg. Potholes tended to be a horror story but I could forgive that as it went where I pointed it, was quite a snappy tool in traffic. The motor was only good for about 60mph but that was more than sufficient for the daily commute.
All went well for about three months and 1200 miles. Then the camchain rattled, the silencers smoked and the engine didn't want to do more than 5000 revs, which was a big problem as that was when the power began to slowly flow in. This was a sign that the whole motor was completely worn out; I wasn't surprised, only gratified that the mill had lasted so long. I'd expected it to seize up within days, the engine always felt like it was on the verge of failure.
The solution to my woes was a rebuilt Superdream engine out of a crashed bike for £75. I thought this a bit of a rip-off but there wasn't anything cheaper available that would actually run. The motor wouldn't fit straight in but a bit of hammering and drilling soon resulted in a running bike.
Superdream motors are quite reliable if rebuilt well, but at this kind of age it's all in the lap of the gods. My impression was that I'd got lucky. Acceleration was brilliant after the worn out motor, although brand new the earlier bike was actually more powerful. The CB sneaked up to 70mph then threw itself into a near terminal wobble but came out on the right side of 80mph with reasonable stability if gut churning buzzing. So much for its infamous balancer system.
Smooth, even stable, cruising was available in the 65 to 70mph range. Brief bursts of acceleration were possible if the circumstances became desperate. The art of riding the bike was to keep the revs between 5000 and 8000. Above that vibration was a real killer, below it there was sod all power and enough chain jumping in the taller gears to suggest that some teeth were missing off the cogs.
The chassis had received a lot of cosmetic attention. Resprayed bright blue and black it looked only a couple of years old. That concern hadn't spread to the chassis bearings, the new found turn of speed leading to their rumbling after about a week. I think the steering head bearings were original, totally lacking in grease and oval when they hadn't broken up. The swinging arm bearings were plastic rubbish that had cracked up, letting the spindle run wild enough to generate large score marks. Bits from a breaker had to suffice, along with loads of grease.
No sooner had I fixed the chassis than the balancer chain started to clatter. When I went to loosen off the bolt it'd seized in solid, a not uncommon occurrence on old Hondas. It's quite usual to snap them off when applying too much force, leading to an engine out stripdown! I sprayed it with WD40, retreated for the night to let it soak in. WD40 is amazing stuff that does much more than just revive electrics. I spray any bike I want to store, as it stops corrosion forming. The next day it freed off and I was able to obtain some more life out of the chain (they, along with the tensioner, last less than 20,000 miles).
The dumpy styling of the Dream I found attractive in a perverse way. Its utterly conventional layout harked back to the days when men were men and the vast majority of bikes were British. The riding position was ideal for lounging around in town on fine summer days. In the wet, vast quantities of water was thrown into my lap. Any prolonged attempt at speeding numbed my shoulders and sent my arse dead. Flatter bars would not have suited the forward mounted pegs and there was no way the gearchange could take any kind of linkage.
Old Hondas have notoriously fickle gearboxes. Superdreams are better than some, at least until the selectors wear out. Mine was dubious once past third with the sickening debility of jumping out of gear into a false neutral. The revs soared to destructive heights never envisaged by the original designers and most parts not welded to the frame tried to twirl off. The mirrors were no great loss as they only gave a very distorted image of my arms. I was rather more worried when the back wheel shook itself loose.
The flurry of vibes became worse when the valves were out of adjustment, a tedious business on these motors as there were three valves per cylinder that needed constant checking. The design used a single camshaft and a set of rockers that wore out quicker than either simpler two valvers or DOHC set-ups. There didn't seem any performance or economy advantages from the three valves; like the balancer it was more a marketing ploy than an exercise in good engineering.
I had to replace some rockers and valves twice, once after 6000 miles and the next time a further 7000 miles down the road. Parts were readily available from breakers but usually needed some work. The valve seats will take a couple of regrinds before turning to cheese. The camchain kept rattling but bodging the tensioner held it at bay for the life of the rebuilt engine, which turned out to be just over 18000 miles.
The trouble with these motors is that when they close in on 60,000 miles there's very little left inside the crankcases that can be renovated. Just about every bearing was shot, the gears mangled beyond hope and the pistons shattered, bits rushing around the motor to make sure that a cheap renovation was beyond any hope.
What should turn up but a crashed CB400T. I heard the motor running and went for the best bits of each bike. The engine turned out to be fearsomely fast, putting 110mph on the clock, which threw the inadequate chassis into some wild weaves, wobbles and wallows. I was shaking by the time I'd persuaded the single front disc to bring us down to 70mph.
I'd always found the brakes adequate but that was, I realised, because I rarely went above 70mph on the old engine and a few tumbles may've also bent the chassis a touch. I changed the gearing to suit the acceleration, making the motor top out at 85mph; much safer and brilliant in town as it'd burn off much bigger bikes if I revved into the red. It went so fast I often found myself hurtling towards cages far too quickly, which had me on the front brake so heavily that the forks twisted up and the tyre screamed. The overheated caliper and disc then required an hour or two to recover.
Vibes were also vicious at most revs. A thrumming ran through the whole machine, making much more than 25 miles so tiring that I had to take an hour's R & R to recover. I stuck to blitzing traffic in town.
The motor lasted for six months and 4000 miles before it blew up in a big way. As far as I could gather from the mess a con-rod had broken. Inspecting the rust on the frame revealed that some of the tubes had rusted right the way through. The rolling chassis must've done over 80,000 miles and had decided to call it a day.
That was the end of the bike as far as I was concerned. No way I was going to chance having a frame break up on me and good engines were becoming very rare in breakers.
Terry Jennings
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All right, all right, that's enough. It takes a lot to rile a Superdream pilot but now I'm just plain pissed off. We always get the piss taken out of us, right? Slow, unreliable bikes for slow, reliable people, right? Well, it's time to set the record straight!
It's the latest write-up of Superdreams in this fair journal which has prompted this normally docile, meditative biker to leapt to the defence of his most reliable Honda CB400NC. The tosser who wrote in last, purchased his 'Dream whilst drunk for the princely sum of £100. When he awoke from his drunken stupor the next morning to realise what a nail he'd bought, he then slung it to the back of his shed.
Much to the credit of the well knackered piece of Jap iron he reluctantly owned, it fired up and ran when he needed it six months later. Rather than praise it for semi-reliable performance from then on he slagged it off to all and sundry. The truth of the matter, of course, being that he was shafted whilst pissed, abused the heap but was rewarded with a working bike, the only element of that sorry tale attributable to the inherent qualities of the Superdream.
It's time to write on behalf of the many Superdream owners, of the many merits of this machine and the good times had on it. I bought my CB400 for 900 notes a year and a half ago. It was B reg with 18000 miles on the clock and a full service history, including all the MOTs which proved the mileage genuine. The bike was in very good condition if a very boring blue colour. I had just passed my test and rode away from the dealers feeling like a million dollars. A big bike at last.
First impressions were of a machine that was rather top heavy, with a tendency to drop into corners if enough speed wasn't dialled in. The back end felt skittish at speed. Straight line stability was fine but if pushed quickly around bends the machine seemed loose around the swinging arm and did not inspire confidence. Given the spindly nature of the swinging arm this wasn't surprising, but in the 15 months I kept the bike I didn't come off once and became used to the sloppy feel, so it couldn't have been that bad.
The engine, as everyone knows, is a not very powerful 400cc vertical twin with three valves per cylinder. It whined away happily for all the time I had it with not so much as an hiccup. Six gears allowed good progress to be made, making best use of the 45hp - the acceleration was certainly good enough to keep ahead of the cages.
Indeed, on one memorable group ride, the machine gave a good showing when in a pack consisting of a VT500, GPz550 and gingerly ridden Triumph 900 (okay, he was running in at the time). Performance was quite peaky, almost two stroke like. Under 5500 revs not a lot happened, but above that figure the engine pulled like a horse right up to the 10,000rpm red line. The peaky nature did not really suit my riding style, which is smooth and progressive. Constant gearchanging became a chore on long trips and keeping the engine within 10-20% of the red line can never be conducive to longevity, even if Honda built their reputation on high revving four stroke twins.....whatever, I never had any engine problems in the 10,000 miles that I ran the Honda.
Shortly after purchase, I took the bike on a run from Surrey to Durham, 320 miles in one hit. This showed off the Honda's strengths and weaknesses. The day was foul with blustery winds and torrential rain. The M25, M1 and A1(M) are not the best of roads during balmy summer nights let alone a rain soaked Monday morning but the bike whirred on regardless.
Singing at the top of my voice, dry and warm in my waterproofs, I hammered up the fast lane along with the Cavaliers and Sierras, with not a care in the world. The Honda rode beautifully, not sliding once and holding the road in a most reassuring manner. The poor fuel economy revealed by this trip was staggering. A mere 40mpg. With its small tank this led to hitting reserve within 95 miles. Very poor given the moderate performance.
A-road riding normally gave 50mpg but a blast up the motorway soon ate into this figure. During the many fuel stops I was able to lubricate the chain, cursing the lack of full enclosure, and keep an eye on the oil consumption, but it never disappeared at a shocking rate.
The other poor piece of design to rear its ugly head was the hard and uncomfortable saddle. The only excuse for such a diabolical design was to actually make you look forward to the fuel stops every hundred miles. The five minute break to refuel was always enough to renew circulation.
I rode the bike through the winter of '92 with few problems. It took me to work every day, through sleet, rain and ice, and once a week we headed down from Surrey to Hastings early in the morning. The Superdream never complained, always started well and even stayed the right way up when I broadsided her at an icy junction. The only thing that happened once was intermittent starting on the button. A strip down of the switch cluster revealed a corroded contact which when cleaned up and generously covered in good old WD40 worked beautifully from then on.
May saw me eagerly thinking about touring. A mate on a VT500 and I headed off to Wales for a week. The weather was piss poor. We picked the one week in May when it rained torrentially. Still, we were not going to give up and did 1500 miles regardless of the weather, the flooded roads and the looks of astonishment on the cager's faces. All went well apart from one episode when, in pouring rain, I shifted my position on the saddle, which unleashed a cascade of water from my waterproofs down on to the engine. This in turn produced a huge cloud of steam which had the startled cagers swerving left and right, thinking I was on fire!
Seeing a gap open in the fear crazed cages I wound the throttle open to be rewarded by the bike faltering on to one cylinder. Yes, the water had shorted out a plug cap and I had to pull into a covered garage forecourt to let it dry out for two minutes. This had the VT rider in an hysterical fit - it's alright for those with twin plug cylinder heads!
During the trip, the Superdream kept up well with the VT. On long straights the more powerful bike pulled away from the screaming 'Dream but my more gung-ho riding style allowed me to catch up on the twisties. This trip proved the value of shaft drive, though, as every fuel stop I was to be seen lubing my chain whilst the VT rider took five. Chain tightening was necessary every 1000 miles with regular lubrication, but did the thing throw off loads of oil!
All in all, the bike gave me fifteen months of reliable, fun riding and introduced me to real biking. In that time it really only needed one new front tyre and thousand mile oil changes. Ergo, the 400 Superdream doesn't deserve its poor reputation or nasty write-ups.
The astute amongst you will be saying, alright, if you liked the bike so much why don't you have it any more? The answer is that I had the opportunity to buy a Guzzi V65, which is a bike I have wanted for years. So the Superdream went. However, though, I'm totally in love with the Guzzi, I still look back longingly to my happy days with the Honda......and when I hear or read someone slagging off Superdreams yet again my blood really starts to boil!
Mat. T.
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There are a whole list of faults that can afflict Superdreams. The first example I saw displayed them all. Corroded brakes, rusted through collector, rattling camchain, vibratory motor, fading cycle parts and, worst of all, an orang-u-tang owner. He wanted more for the bike than the next example I saw, which for £400 was in reasonable shape, though far from immaculate.
One of the first models, sporting only 29000 miles, I tested it by pulling a wheelie. I knew from past experience that such an act was such a shock to the chassis and engine that if anything was going to break it'd do so then. The bike survived at the price of almost breaking my wrists when the front wheel came down faster than I expected.
The owner looked shocked at such antics but was placated by the dosh. The Superdream clacked away at its 1200rpm tickover, the raucous noise a mixture of balance chain, camchain, tappets, piston slap and clutch rattle. It didn't mean anything was going to fail, after 15000 miles they all sounded like a bag of nails.
Riding home it was easy to realise why the Superdreams were so popular. There was just enough real motorcycle in them to make them interesting with none of the impracticalities of the race replicas. It's easy to dismiss this kind of motorcycle if you're rich, laugh at its looks, handling and performance, but in the real world 110mph, cheap running costs and a lack of speed wobbles are sufficient ingredients to make them good choices for real motorcyclists.
End of lecture back to reality. As I approached my town I casually turned on the lights. Rather that the golden illumination I expected there was a large bang and a dead engine. Oh, the fun of old motorcycles. As my house was only a quarter of a mile away, I pushed the old girl home, giving her the odd kick to ensure that there was no doubting whom was boss.
After half a can of ice cold lager, I was ready to take the world on, or in this case a suddenly malevolent looking CB400N, appearing deadly in black. The fuse holder was a melted blob due to a loose main lead in the headlamp shell. The wiring was bodged to buggery, had I been really enthusiastic I would've torn in all out, instead limiting myself to adding to the bodging. I did find somewhere to bolt the rectifier rather than leave it hanging by its wires.
You have to expect trouble from old bikes and hardly anyone likes electrics. The next morning I approached the bike with an air of desperation but she fired up quickly on the choke, soon settling down to a regular throb-throb. Whilst the CB might not stir the soul or break arm sockets, it goes well enough to kill dead every car in town and if ridden with verve, or reckless disregard for safety, can threaten most 500 twins.
There's 43 horses in there trying to escape but often they seem deeply buried, needing some frantic 7000rpm plus revving in the lower gears to extract a decent turn of speed. Being a Honda, the gearbox's as slick as a 250lb belly dancer, but there's an art to such footwork that a few years with villainous hacks soon develops. If you don't get the knack you either sign up for the HP on a new bike or start stealing them!
So there I was two weeks later, whizzing through town with nary a thought in my mind, when some clown of a ped rushed out of nowhere. I was only doing 40mph but the effect of the front wheel hitting his leg was like a bolt from hell. Both for the ped and myself. My last moment, pure reflex, twirl on the bars saved him from amputation but threw me through the air. The CB landed on the ped rather than moi, so there is a bit of natural justice left in this life.
I landed on my helmet and survived without serious injury but the ped was sent off in an ambulance screaming like a pig about to be slaughtered. The cop took down all the details but it didn't worry me as I had neither money nor property and it wasn't even my fault, though from the kind of looks I got from the crowd I could be a mass murderer.
Damage to the Honda was bent bars, smashed indicators and a dented tank. Nothing that couldn't be ignored or put right with my stash of spares. A week later I heard a duo of rattles, both cam and balancer tensioners needing attention. The former was supposed to be automatic, but would stick, requiring a whack from a hammer and a squirt of WD40. The balancer tensioner was an invention of the devil with the express purpose of making me blaspheme but a spare hour or two had it at the end of its adjustment. The final solution to balancer problems is complete removal of the system.
Having expended such effort it only seemed fair that the old dud should take me on a weekend's debauchery, er, camping. A very nervous girlfriend was strapped on to the pillion with bungee cords to get her in the mood. My two man tent would do the rest. Some hope, it rained the whole weekend and we ended up in a Blackpool B and B with a vicious landlady who stayed up all night to make sure I didn't sneak into the babe's room. To cap it all off, the Honda wouldn't start until I fitted another coil (I had a sack full of spares) and I had to suffer the old bag screaming at me all the time to move the dirty heap away from her house.
The CB400 ran well enough with the combined mass of rider and pillion (about 18 stone) but I had to cane it along in gear lower than I'd normally use. The rear Showa shocks were off some bigger Honda but still let in a little wallowing, probably due to a bit of give in the minimal swinging arm - looked to me that they were using up old CD175 stock!
Baffleless silencers matched to a holed airfilter helped fuel economy stay around 55 to 60mpg, unless I went really silly with the throttle when it'd go down to 45mpg but I didn't do that too often because engine vibes indicated imminent demise. I know, it's fun to blow up old Honda engines and throw a match in the tank in the town centre - and, god knows, me and my mates have done it often enough - but at that juncture in time I couldn't afford such wasteful antics. Readers should realise that in the general course of things, old Japs like the CB are so worn out come 50 to 60,000 that there's very little to salvage from the effects of corrosion and metal fatigue. A match in the tank could even be considered ecologically sound (if you're on drugs).
After a couple of months I'd sorted out all the urgent problems, which included caliper rebuild, welding the holes in the collector, fitting gaiters on the forks to hide the leaking seals and replacing the teflon Jap tyres with a newish set of Avons. There was still the odd weave but even on bare tyres the Superdream remained stable enough. Tyres seem to last less well with each passing year, I was only getting about 8000 miles out of the Avons.
A series of electrical faults couldn't be cured by languidly emptying a can of WD40 over the bike. After much farting around I worked out that both handlebar switch clusters were in a bad way. I cursed with the abandon of a drunken journo when I saw all the internal bits rolling down the tarmac but saved myself by buying a used set from the kid across the road who'd ridden into the back of a bus on a CB250N. The car following him had finished off the back end; all that was left was a working engine and a few electrical bits. The 250 version is so bland that it'd only entice C90 veterans with blood congealed into lead.
With the electrics sorted I was able to push the mileage to just below 42000. At that point, though the bike still went fine, I deduced from the increase in vibes that it was within 5000 miles of expiring. I'd experienced Honda's before that'd run and run until the combined wear of all the components proved suddenly too much and there'd be nothing left to salvage from the seized up wreck. Built in obsolescence, I believe it's called in polite circles (Jap crap in others). I sold the bike to the kid across the street who had the 250 mill to fall back upon. He hasn't blown the 400 engine with 49000 miles done.
H.R.
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The advert ran like this: Honda Automatic 400, 1979, £350 or swap for trail bike. I read the advert again but didn't really fancy riding an automatic. My only experience of one being a Honda Lead and I didn't enjoy the feeling very much. Anyway I was looking for something different to replace an aged Superdream with which I'd had no trouble with in over 18 months of commuting. Cosmetically it was a disaster, desperately needed money spending on it.
I couldn't see the point, and, anyway, I operate on buying cheap commuters to run for a year, then selling on again. Now for around £300 you're not going to buy the bike of your dreams. I would like a GT550 or GS550 but funds don't permit. I've found you have to be very careful not to end up with a dog. Bikes such as Superdreams, Z200s, CD185/200's are my staple diet. Excellent buys in their way and never let me down.
The only bike that proved to be a bad buy was the XS250, a nasty unreliable machine that would never start in poor weather and let me down on numerous occasions. I'd seen a Z400 advertised, which tempted me very much but the engine needed work so I steered clear. There was nothing else worth buying so I thought I'd take a look at the 400 Auto.
When we met the guy selling the bike we'd spent three hours looking for the house and it was dark. I once bought a nasty 2CV6 on a dark night and promised never again, but as the chap wheeled the bike into the street, my mate who knows absolutely nothing about motorcycles, looked at me and grinned.
Surely this wasn't it he whispered, an immaculate and original (less front mudguard) 400 Auto with only 16000 miles on the clock from new. He wanted £350. I haggled over a lack of MOT and poor rear tyre, so we settled for slightly less. I didn't even test ride it and was having doubts whether I could ride it, after the chap explained the handbrake lever on the left bar to me! He started her up first time and drove it to my pal's house where he unloaded all the old MOT certificates, showing about 900 miles done each year. We must have stood admiring her for an hour before I restarted it and got ready for a 40 mile ride up the motorway to my home.
The engine seemed very similar
to the old Superdream with a lot more low down torque, and was
soon keeping me out of trouble by overtaking with ease. It cruised
nicely at 65mph, I just sat back in the seat getting a feel for
the bike. The saddle was plush enough to be new whilst the suspension
felt nicer than any motorcycle I'd
ever owned before.
Everything was fine until I hit a seam in the road and the rear end went haywire. The rear tyre skewed around making me lose confidence in the handling until months later when I replaced the back tyre with a Metzeler. That cured the problem even with a front Roadrunner, although I'm looking forward to the time it wears out when I can replace it with a Metz.
Coming off the slip road I had my second fright on the ride home. Easing off the throttle I was expecting some engine braking but there wasn't any on the automatic and the give-way sign came up at an alarming rate. I soon learnt to counteract the lack of engine braking but it does take some getting used to!
After owning the bike over a period of time I find the brakes need to be kept in top condition, especially since the 400 Auto does not have the twin disc system of the other 400 models. I never understood why Honda decided to put the 250 braking system into this bike. Perhaps I will upgrade the brakes if the chance turns up.
As a confidence booster in the machine we have a very steep hill on a long dual carriageway which is a good indicator of engine condition. On the last lap of the journey home the bike sailed up it at 75mph and I arrived home well pleased with the purchase.
My wife must've thought I'd paid a lot for the bike as she wouldn't believe that it had cost only £100 more than the Superslug. I couldn't believe my luck either, especially as it passed an MOT the next day without any attention. I wasn't happy with a rattle from the camchain, so the head came off to do the valves and camchain then new plugs and oil. The local dealer sold me an original 400A manual and I was ready to use the bike for commuting almost every day.
To date I've done 3000 miles on the bike, mainly to work every day because the car bores me. The 400A has never let me down and has proved to be a reliable workhouse, ideal for town and dual carriageway. Its petrol consumption is not good, however, about 45mpg. It stayed constant, some quirk of the automatic gearbox made frugality independent of throttle abuse.
In place of the tacho there was a gear indicator - first, second or neutral, the gears selected by the usual lever. The bike will pull away nicely in either gear as long as you remember not to blip the throttle. However, there was a slight creeping action so I usually knocked it into neutral.
First gear will take you nicely to around 35 to 40mph before second can be selected and you wonder what you can do with your left hand. For the first few weeks I had a tendency to grab at the clutch which was actually the brake! I soon realised that this was going to be a dangerous habit to fall into!
I haven't used the handbrake yet but I suppose struck in a traffic jam going up a steep hill then I'll need to find out quickly. To operate it you push a plunger button on the base of the left handlebar lever before pulling in the clutch (sorry) brake lever. God knows how I'll be able to return to a clutch again! Top speed is around the ton, but being an old lady I stick at between 60 to 80mph on the motorway to stretch longevity.
Oil changes are kept to 800 miles as I'll never conquer my fear of camchain snapping on me at 80mph. It always amazes me when I read in the UMG of old bikes being thrashed at high speeds then owners' telling tales of rebuilds, etc. Sensible speeds may squeeze an extra year or two out of their lives. I oil the chain weekly and retighten it every six months. A Scotoiler beckons.
As I mentioned earlier, good tyres are essential for improved handling and the rear Metz makes the world of difference. The front brake needs a yearly stripdown to keep up its performance as I found some parts seize up badly. The brake piston was a sod to extract, obviously due to standing in the previous owner's garage. In fact, when the tyre was changed the inner-tube was fused with the rim! Something to watch out for on a bike that hasn't been used in a while.
Reports often state that style-wise the bike's a disaster but it grows on you and had a rather timeless feel. Most people are attracted to its looks, one priest went so far as to bless it against all evils. I've received offers for the bike from people in the street and the usual greetings from dealers is I haven't seen one of those for a long time, so it must have something going for it.
The chrome's superb for its age and only the front mudguard needs to be changed to return it to OE spec, also the exhaust is about due for replacement and I don't want a 2-1 as it'd spoil the shape. I'll definitely keep the bike as it's been a real find and I've been told that the engines don't suffer from the ultimate disgrace of main bearing failure like the other Dreams as it's very hard to thrash them. It's worth keeping an open mind when hunting down old bikes because you never know when a bargain will turn up.
T.Mackie
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Introduced in 1978, the Superdream rapidly became a top seller and changed little over the next few years. The CB400 went through NA, NB and NC incarnations which seemed to differ only in colour scheme. A Deluxe model put in an appearance with black Comstar wheels and fins on the tail fairing, an external oil feed to the head and twin piston brakes being the only mechanical changes.
Even today, the vertical twin OHC motors in the CB350S and 450 look very similar to the early engines. Internals include chain driven balance shafts, three valves per cylinder, electronic ignition and all the usual triumphs of Japanese engineering.
I'd had a spin on a friend's 250 which seemed smooth, comfortable and fast compared to my humble CD175 but I had still opted for a GT250 for the sake of some rattle and roll. When this blew a piston after 12 months I threw the engine back together and took my earnings on a tour of bike shops.
A two month old 400 with 1200 miles on the clock weighed in at 450 notes plus the Suzuki which unknown to the salesman was back on one cylinder. The CB was red, had twin discs at the front, a halogen headlamp and promised a little more in the way of riding and less spannering than the old GT. In the tradition of Superdream owners I took it home to show my mum and celebrated with a glass of ginger beer shandy.
Being a student many of my friends suffered greater agonies than a CB400NA, so I did not get the piss taken out of me too much. Far worse was the comment of a non-motorcycling girlfriend who squealed, 'Oh, isn't it pretty.' She ended up with a guy with an XS1100, so I suppose size does matter.
The motor revved very freely for its relative youth, the redline coming up rapidly in each gear, apart from sixth which was very much an overdrive. The surge of acceleration that I was used to on the 250 Suzuki at 5000rpm never occurred but I soon discovered that ground could be covered quite rapidly by the simple expedient of holding the throttle fully open all the time. On the motorway there was sufficient speed to ensure that I wasn't squashed beneath continental artics.
One trip to Bridlington highlighted the capability of the 400. We set off from Bristol in the company of an XS750, a Guzzi Le Mans, a 650 Bonnie and a Trident. The Triumph owners had been told they were allowed five breakdowns between them and meeting points were agreed to allow me to catch up. In the event, the combination of the Fosse Way, dry roads and respect for licences ensured that we all stayed together. The Triumphs suffered only one set-back when a throttle cable melted on the cylinder head and jammed open.
He shot past me along a straight which I took as something of a challenge, and happily ran the Honda into the red until a few bends appeared. Not renown for his lack of bottle, he swept through these with aplomb and we caught up with him sitting at the side of the road a few miles later smoking a cigarette with trembling hand, having pulled a spark plug lead off to save the motor and his soul.
The only problem with using all the performance came with frequent fuel stops - 40mpg was the norm - although these did allow blood to return to the extremities. The seat was designed more with style than function in mind and the bar to foot position meant that the back and neck suffered, especially on motorways. The Le Mans had the best of the high speed work, cramped only by the pillion, although the owner was impressed by my ability to keep up; the gear ratios in top on the CB equated to his first gear, but I didn't hear him offering a swap.
The handling was fairly neutral. After hearing of bad experiences with the original Bridgestone tyres, I was reasonably content with the Yokohomas fitted. They went after 8000 miles and a bad puncture to be replaced by TT100s. There was still tread on the front but it had caused a few moments in the wet. This was exacerbated in the early days by lag in the brakes which had caused a tumble in Eversham High Street when a bus presented its posterior to me with the enthusiasm of a mating panda. Ferodo pads followed soon after.
Apart from spares, the Honda was not expensive to run. However, this owed more to my policy of not spending money than the longevity of the bike. The plugs were changed once and the oil every 3000 miles or so - at least until I rounded the absurd little head on the oil drain bolt. Watch for this if you ever contemplate buying a Dream, look to see if it's in good nick or has been replaced with a larger headed nut.
The exhaust system rotted as thoroughly as expected. The collector box was hidden by a couple of chrome guards and was rusty in a few months. Treatment with rust converter, primer and layers of rust-proof, heat-proof paint covered this up for about a fortnight. The only solution seems to be teflon coating at new.
Even this would not have stopped the silencers rotting around the collector box union until they were only held in place by the power of positive thinking. A friend with a similar machine offered me his set of pipes since he was indulging in a 2-1, rear-sets and drops. I can think of dentists who could have fun filling the cavities if they hadn't anything better to do.
In fact, the exhaust system was a waste of space, being heavy, badly finished, incredibly expensive and shrouding the rear wheel in such a way as to make removal difficult. The upswept silencers ensured that my throwovers melted on the first trip. Motads and Alphas are the favoured replacements.
One annoying problem I suffered was a tendency to blow main fuses. When they started disappearing every 20 miles or so I took the bike to a friendly workshop. They found a slight split in one of the indicator leads which I had missed and patted me on the head. 20 miles later another fuse went, they suggested I replace the fuse with a bolt.
This worked well until one day the pillion pointed out that the wiring harness was going up in flames. Eventually, I found that the horn mounting had worked loose and was vibrating its way through the wires. Once covered with insulating tape, the problem disappeared.
One weekend I was cajoled into loaning the machine to a friend in return for his Morini 350 Sport. After a weekend with the Morini I had some affection for it, tempered by the cramped riding position, the on-off clutch and an awkward kickstart. The Morini owner came back extolling the virtues of the easy revving twin (through to twelve, he said) and the relative comfort. Having owned a 400F which the twins had replaced he said that my bike was faster, handled better and was more comfortable. The fact that he still preferred the four says a lot about the charisma of the Superdream.
After 13000 miles the machine had lost its youthful vitality. The handling had become rather bouncy on anything but the smoothest surface. The paint was flaking from the tank and swinging arm. Despite attention to the screw and locknut tappets and the rather simple camchain tensioner, the top end was distinctly noisy. The chain had only half worn through and the electronic ignition problem that seemed to bug the 250s at even low mileage had not arisen.
Less pleasing was a rather unnerving tendency for the motor to nip up in the fast lane when flogged along for mile after mile. However, the engine always freed up before I hit the hard shoulder and would continue without fuss if the throttle was eased off slightly. Never before had I owned a machine that I was so ready to charge off on hundred mile hikes just for the hell of it.
Perhaps because the motor was so willing, the brakes and chassis so effective and forgiving, I took one liberty too many with the Honda and ended up in a corn field a couple of hundred yards from the corner I was attempting to take. While I managed to walk away with a hole in my elbow and a scrape in my bum (much to the relief of a very shaken car driver who had observed my precipitous exit from the corner), the bike had discovered the meaning of terminal velocity.
The forks were bent as were the bars and yokes. Every ancillary part that could break had and the exhausts I never even found. A very nice man from National Breakdown towed me to Bristol in time to miss the wedding he was expected at.
This should really be the end of the tale. I advertised the bits that were left - basically engine and brakes -as a bolt on go faster kit for 250s. The first response was from a bloke in Wales who had a blown up a Dream complete with fairing, Girlings and Motad, who offered to bring the chassis down if I wanted to buy it. I had just negotiated a loan for a Kawasaki 750, but a friend wanted a cheap bike so he bought the chassis and my engine and put them together.
The wrecked engine was stripped and cleaned - a piston had shattered and filled all the crevices with an interesting sludge - and sold as were the brakes and electrics. The whole bike went on happily for another 10,000 miles before being sold for £300. Looking back on it, the engine was probably worth more - a lot of interest resulted from the ad. The CDI was snapped up quickly too.
A recent publication mooted the Superdreams as practical classics of the eighties. However, just as Stork, Itchen and Walterman don't produce quality music just because they dominate the charts, the popularity of the Superdream should not be taken as a guideline for the longevity of their charms.
One mag touted 114mph as top speed for the 400, which is not outrageous given the right road and conditions. Certainly, given the quality of the opposition in the class at the time the Superdreams seemed attractive. Times have changed, thank god, and the gentle insistence on the part of the Japanese that we do all want race replica, high performance mobiles or bad handling Yank customs seems to have paid off. With this in mind, the current generation of Dream descendants seem to have their work cut out in a competitive market.
As cheap (and looking at the prices of the CB350S and CB450 I would like to emphasize that word), effective transport they are reasonable bikes but I wouldn't expect much admiration to be expressed for even mint examples in years to come. What you would guarantee is a lot of people commenting, perhaps without great affection, "Gawd, I used to have one of those once."
Paul Burgess
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When I went on my first long ride on the Honda I wondered if I'd bought a pneumatic drill. It just didn't want to run smoothly in the 90 to 110mph range. To get those kinds of speed, I had to crouch down on to the tank and work hard on the gearbox and throttle. Just about every part of the machine blurred with the vibration, despite its balancer system. Vertical twin vibes rule!
This despite the bike being totally renovated a mere 4000 miles previously. Complete engine and chassis rebuild by a local mechanic who had a lorry load of Superdream parts! He was knocking out a couple of renovated bikes a month at £1500 a throw. I'd bought the bike off my neighbour after he'd had enough of winter riding.
The Honda was a bit like a reluctant mistress. Just when you'd had enough of the deal it'd do something exceptional, like a 90mph drone down the M1 for a couple of hours; ended up ticking over like new. Other times it'd go into a misfire in the wet, not conking out completely but going down on to one cylinder then switching back to full power.
It was just as well that it was basically a good handling bike - very neutral with no nasty surprises. Felt a little top heavy at first but this soon faded as the miles piled up. Superdreams are the kind of bikes that do most things okay but never become exceptional. They usually end up on a hiding to nothing, as they don't inspire much love in their owners. The whole thing shagged out in 50,000 miles. The mechanic offered £100 for dead ones, so probably made a grand a throw on the renovated examples. Not bad money if you can get it. I'd paid £1250 for mine.
The main limitation was the vibration that came with excessive revving. This had an effect on my panniers, which were secured by a couple of brackets bought from an Ironmonger's! The right-hand one came loose at the ton, started flapping around in the breeze and I only noticed when the thing flew through the air and I caught a glance of it in the mirrors.
I skidded to a halt - never a quick job on the Dream, despite twin discs out front - turned around just in time to see some massive, wallowing artic flatten the plastic. All that was left were a couple of bits of GRP! Luckily, there wasn't anything in it. When I looked, the other pannier's brackets were just starting to fracture, so I whipped it off and strapped it down on the pillion.
Extended exposure to the pillion perch turned young ladies a bit cattish. The vibes didn't do anything for them, the pillion pegs thrumming away much more than my own. After a hundred miles they staggered around like I'd humped them up the backdoor and expanded my knowledge of swear words. I was a bit saddle sore myself, after that length of exposure, but I've done 400 miles in a day and I'm still here to tell the tale.
Pillions weren't really recommended because they knocked the performance right back. What had been capable of staying with the majority of cages up to 90mph, two-up turned into a slow moving accident looking for somewhere to happen. Overtaking was especially fraught - I'd sit there with a desperate grip on the bars, hoping against hope that we were going to stagger past the cage before some oncoming car squashed us.
When the car I was overtaking decided to speed up, there was never enough guts left to see him off. The solution, two-up, was to ride in a mild, mature manner; no doubt making the pillion thankful for my apparent sanity. Solo, the solution was to thrash the bike into the red all the time, when performance was acceptable without ever being exhilarating.
The only weakness in the stability and handling, solo, was from the back end. The infamous FVQ shocks would bottom out over bumpy going, let the back end shimmy around. It was never really dangerous, though, no sign of speed wobbles. Two up, the suspension sagged, ground clearance problems making fast curves problematical - the undercarriage dug in, the bike going into maximum tilt and crash mode. Scared the shit out of unwary pillions and nearly broke my leg when I had to get my foot down on one occasion. The Superdream weighed less than 400lbs, making it relatively easy to fight into submission.
Starting was always good, even in sub zero temperatures. The bike warmed up quickly, which is more than can be said for me. As I had a cheapo helmet and visor, in freezing fog I had to ride with the latter up to avoid the condensation. The mixture of vibes and the icy blast left my eyes all rheumy and bloodshot. The buzzing didn't help with my blood circulation, various extremities going numb. The solution would've been a big fairing, but its excessive mass and poor aerodynamics would've ruined the lively performance.
I ended up with a set of handlebar muffs. Nice warm mitts but when the weather turned really icy, the indicator switch seized up, meaning I had to get my hand out fast. Not easy with thick gloves rammed inside the muffs, and I nearly came a cropper several times. Fortunately, spraying WD40 over the switches got them working again.
The front light was quite adequate for out of town riding. That was, when it wasn't blowing - those high rev ton-plus sorties again. I once blew both main and dip within ten seconds! That left me in the middle of nowhere with no lights! I managed to rig up the back light in the headlamp! That left me easy prey for back-enders as I couldn't speed with the dim glow out front. The wiring loom was new, so no problems with failing insulation, something you should expect at this age from a bike that hasn't been renovated.
The finish survived a winter. Quite impressive until I rode through some gravel. Stones strafed the bike like a machine gun on automatic. Paint was chipped and large sections of chrome soon sprouted rust. Riding into a pile of gravel at speed was quite fun until I saw the damage, the bike just skewed all over the road but didn't throw me off.
This basic stability shouldn't be confused with ruggedness. The engine notoriously wears out all its engine parts simultaneously around 50,000 miles, and even the chassis can rot away in important places - like where the shocks' studs are welded on! No problem with my bike but I wouldn't trust it after 20,000 miles of abuse.
One incident does stay in the mind. I was grinding along the A4, happy enough with the world, when there was a whoosh to my right. A bloody big Volvo came alongside, then tried to knock me off. I cursed, whacked the Honda over to the gutter as the maniac cut in front of me. Such was the violence of my input that the bike ran into the side of the road, the front wheel wobbling alarmingly. I really thought I was going to lose it all, but the Honda pulled itself together and I sped off after Mr Volvo, who had his rear lights kicked in at the next junction.
Don't know what that says about the Honda. Too slow to burn off Volvo's but stable enough to shrug off their stupidity? Little incidents like that add up, made me think the Honda's a touch better than the sum of its mediocre parts. Worth a look.
Roy Wicks
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