Revive, don’t restore
Adam Smallman and his XT500 have had a long relationship. And they are at it again. But this is no show pony resto. Thank goodness
‘That badly welded frame loop from my Sahara adventures can stay, it’s part of the historical document’
Let the haters hate but I am not restoring this classic 43-year-old Yamaha XT500. I admire those who do – Germans mostly, it seems – but there are two reasons it isn’t for me. First, the bike and I have an awful lot of history (bought in the late seventies, ridden to Australia, badly ‘restored’, left unloved, sold, left unloved again and then bought back nine years later in a bout of lover’s remorse). Second, I’m neither interested in, nor careful enough, to build a show pony. So kill me now.
The objective is simple; build her back up so she’s a reliable ride. That badly welded frame loop from my Sahara adventures can stay, as can the yellowing and damaged front mudguard. They’re part of the historical document. Goodenough is good enough for me.
The motor, which in almost standard trim powered Yamaha to first and second in the inaugural Paris-dakar race, beating the cars, is legendary for being over-built. Indeed, I once repaired the engine in the Sinai Desert in Egypt after I forgot to bend over the gearbox sprocket locktab. On completion I found three mystery parts left over. I carried on to Sydney with those items nestling out of sight and mind in my panniers.
Now, in a London shed, sand from Australia’s Oodnadatta Track fell from the cases when I pulled apart the unit and a clean-up of the head and piston, plus new gaskets, appears to be all that is needed. Same too for that chunky carb. Some of the cracked and exhausted rubber – grommets, o-rings, lever covers – have been refreshed in a noxious mix of rubbing alcohol and wintergreen oil, making the workshop stink like an aromatherapist’s changing room.
It’s the electrics I’ve focused on as the weak spot. Six-volt, frayed and blackened wiring poorly held together by tape and a prayer needed an upgrade. Rex’s Speedshop in southern England has the answer with a £265 12v conversion kit with electronic ignition and all the bulbs needed. Designed by the firm, it was a cinch to fit. I raised my game on repairing the loom, using proper Japanese connectors, amalgamating rubber tape and electrical grease. That’s super-satisfying.
Far less so are the forks, with their stoneage damping rods. It’s here where I’ve made things worse by getting the stanchions overchromed and using a weighty oil. Too thick and too heavy, respectively. Stiction is too generous a term. It’s ‘stuction’. Desperate rubbing of the chrome with 400-grit paper has helped but not enough to make it rideable. For the third time they’ll have to come off, be stripped and rubbed down more. The biggest blocker to completion is an exhaust. XT specialist Kedo – German, of course – make €775 stainless replicas and so that’s on order. There are cheaper pipes and I may not be restoring it, but I want the bike to look joined up, not like some stripped-down farm mud-plugger.
I’m within sniffing distance of getting her tap-tappity chuffing again after 15 years or more, ready for spring riding. I can’t wait.
Use only quality electrical connectors (usually Japanese or German standard). Cheap Halfords aftermarket kits are a poor substitute and don’t honour the bike you’re working on. Invest in decent quality crimping and wire-stripping tools. Kojaycat or Vehicle Wiring Products are places to look. Save £100 or more by planning what parts you need after you’ve stripped the bike and doing one or two big mail orders rather than scores of small ones.
If space allows buy an Abba Sky Lift stand for around £450. You easily shove a bike higher, lower, at an angle or just out of the way. If you’ve not used one it’s a transformative way of working on a project.