HONDA CB400 1978 FOUR F2

Can a missed opportunity make things all the sweeter for our man Mossy second time around?

Ican’t remember exactly when the must-have-onemore-than-anything feeling began. All I know is: I craved a 400/4. think I’d not long since acquired my SS50, clocked up a few miles, thought I knew everything, and reckoned it was already time to move up the biking ladder. But the whole idea was pure fantasy. I didn’t even have a job to finance such a promotion, nor did I possess sufficient skill or experience to pilot one. Oh, and I hadn’t passed my test! But we all have dreams, and back in the mid-70s the little Honda had captured my heart. Having one seemed more important than life itself. Ah, the straightforward simplicity of youthful ambition. Not all dreams come true of course, and in due course I ended up going for a much less sensible RD250. It’s arguable I never really got over missing the chance to own the Honda though. I noted how well respected it became during its short life, and the classic status it began to develop thereafter. Yet despite my time in bikes and bike journalism, the 400 is one of those bikes that ‘got away’ and I never got to ride one. Just recently, the chance to change that came out of the blue. I’d ridden over to the official opening of the new David Silver Honda Collection in Suffolk where there was also an invite to ride a few of his older models. Even so, I had no idea which Hondas would be available to try. When I spotted the yellow F2 version of a 400 I instantly got a bit giddy over the prospect of finally giving one a go. Unfortunately almost every other invited guest had the same thoughts as me, and with much sadness I repeatedly watched it leave the site in the hands of said others. Then by chance I got offered the keys, though just for a brief chaperoned run down to the coast at Aldeburgh, a few miles distant. Still, the sun was out, the roads attractive, and the traffic light, so off I headed. It was a lovely 30 minutes or so, and I found the diminutive 400 most appealing. I noted its torque and flexibility at lower revs and zip when you spun its little motor harder. Quickly won over by its easiness, and the general sense of mood-lifting fun it generated, I made a point of noting the need to ride one ‘properly’ one day soon, while simultaneously feeling slightly irked at coming so close to that fuller experience. As luck would have it, just an hour later a second chance to sample it suddenly materialised. Bertie, who’d been on the list to give the Honda go, had to give up the chance and instructed me to ‘get on it, and write me some words’. There is a god after all, I thought. Needing to wait for a couple of things to fall into place before hitting the starter gave me a chance to hunker down and mull over the 1978, 43,000-miler