OUR CLASSICS
Mark’s Moto Guzzi T3 takes on Mike’s Yamaha TDR250 in a scientific road and pub car park appraisal situation
Bunking off early with a TDR250 and Guzzi, while new boy Austin muses over his VFR400R resto
It’s an autumn afternoon and the sun has got his hat on, so Mark and Mike make an executive decision to leave work early and find a quintessential country pub with thatched roof and cask ales, to drink sensibly and discuss diverse twins.
Mike: What a glorious day. It’s been a great summer for riding and now we’ve got a glorious, golden autumn. Brilliant!
Mark: You said it. Your TDR looks in really good nick, especially in the sun – really clean and pretty original.
Mike: Yeah, I bought it last April – it was a good, clean bike for realistic money.
Mark: Mine was a scuzzy old contraption that had been properly messed around with by a dozen owners when I bought it four years ago. And I like to feel I’m continuing that tradition. Mike: I bought mine because I owned a TDR some 20-odd years ago – it was my first big bike after passing my test and I had fond memories of it.
Mark: I’d never owned a Guzzi before, but knew a really cool guy at college who had a Le Mans. I thought it looked great and sounded incredible.
Mike: I must admit, when you started it up I thought: ‘That’s what a proper motorcycle should sound like’.
Mark: I love that noise. The, er, nonstandard pipe helps. Yours sounds very quiet at start-up. Two-strokes tend to sound a bit disappointing to me.
Mike: What do you mean? The crisp, soaring, tearing-calico sound of the 250’s twin expansion chambers as it zips through the gears gives me goosebumps!
Mark: I found the whiff of two-stroke oil
as I was following you down here much more intoxicating than the noise. Looking at it, I bet you paid more than I did.
Mike: That’s true. Prices are going the same ridiculous way as all ’80s and ’90s 250cc two-strokes, so I bought one while I could still afford it – just.
Mark: It’s all a bit too well kept and manicured for my liking. I like bikes that look like they’ve been around and could tell a few stories.
Mike: It’s not perfect. The bodywork’s been repaired at some point and there were odd strips of yellow tape everywhere.
Mark: My bike’s a T3 that’s been Californicated with a non-standard seat, footboards and high ’bars. I didn’t realise that a cooling fin on one of the barrels had been chipped off and the downpipes had been fitted on the wrong sides when I bought it. The engine had been rebuilt – it was strong and the guy I bought it from had actually been using it regularly. I bought it to ride.
Mike: I’d been looking for a TDR for a while, but bought this one because the subframe isn’t rusty like a lot of them are, the pipes aren’t rotten, the chassis rides as it should, and the parallel-twin motor sounds and feels sweet. It also came with the original wheels and the same kind of cast TZR jobs that my old bike had.
Mark: Have you done much to yours? In the four years I’ve owned the Guzzi I’ve put about 6000 miles on it, so it’s needed work to keep it safely rideable. I’ve had all the brake lines replaced with braided ones, later brake calipers fitted, put new Hagon shocks on it, had the forks stripped and rebuilt and replaced a blown external oil line. It’s only let me down once – that was sorted with a new reg/rec.
Mike: Other than hunting spacers to refit the stock wheels and replacing the ageing tyres with Avon Roadriders, I’ve not had to do anything other than feed it unleaded and pour synthetic oil into the ludicrous horizontal filler.
Mark: You planning to do anything to
‘THE CRISP, SOARING, TEARING 250 SOUND GIVES GOOSEBUMPS’
it? I repainted my tank a while ago, but still can’t decide on the finishing touches – don’t fancy Guzzi eagle decals, I’d like something different. If I ever get the time, I’d like to make some panniers for it, too.
Mike: I’m not sure whether to refresh the motor when I change the oil and coolant after the winter lay-up – at 24,000 miles it’s about due new piston rings, and I should check things like whether the powervalves are aligned properly, but I’m reluctant to fiddle while it’s running right.
Mark: On that subject, let’s get back on the road and make the most of this unseasonally superb weather.
Mike: Right – follow me, old man. See if you can keep up!
There follows an eastward blat down country lanes and onto the A47, during which an impromptu roll-on drag race ensues. Before the two part company and head for their respective homes, they reconvene in a convenient layby.
Mike: That was fun! Cracking the gas side-by-side with your Guzzi, I was sat holding it on the edge of the power in second gear, so bounded forward instantly while your lumpy old twin had to ponderously gather momentum.
Mark: I have to admit, I was surprised that your little 250 stroker got the better of my 850 four-stroke. Think the Guzzi’s grunt would beat you off the line in a standing start, but reckon your Yam would overhaul me further down the strip. And I don’t like pushing the old thing over 90 anyway, out of mechanical sympathy.
Mike: It’s my bike’s perky acceleration that’s my favourite bit – it snaps through gears, giving a sensation of real speed without hitting naughty numbers, and flicks down my favourite bumpy back lanes like a pinball.
Mark: The Guzzi’s all about grunt – that’s what I love about it. You just surf that lazy big old wave of torque – but there’s a great snarly surge at the top end if you want to push it. And I just love that V-twin vibe. I even surprised myself by subjecting my knackered old body to a 350-mile day earlier this year – the T3’s great at that. Mike: Mine’ll cruise all day at 80mph, and I’ve seen 110 with a bit still to go. The seat’s gone saggy – half an hour of riding and I start to feel the subframe as the
‘IT’S ABOUT GRUNT – YOU SURF THAT LAZY BIG WAVE OF TORQUE’
padding goes flat – but otherwise the riding position is all-day friendly.
Mark: My seat’s like a big, fat sofa. But even though I’ve had the suspension refreshed, it’s still 1970s suspension – you feel every bump. That does take it out of a knackered old body like mine.
Mike: Yeah, I noticed on the bumpy lanes down to the pub that the light, plush Yam was floating while the heavyweight Guzzi looked like it was lurching. But winding on the gas in top gear, heading home into the sun on the flowing A47, you romped away – you could overtake traffic at will, while I had to work hard, tap-dancing on the gearlever, to keep in touch with you.
Mark: They’re chalk and cheese, our bikes. But they do have one thing in common, you know.
Mike: What’s that?
Mark: They both put fabulous big grins on our faces.
Mike: You said it, sunshine…