The 1977 Moto Guzzi Le Mans (not yet a MkI, like a World War no-one expected the 2nd, Guzzi eventually got as far as the MkV, let’s hope that we have more sense) was not blessed with a comfortable seat. At that time a compressed foam moulded item was probably considered bleeding edge but time and UV radiation soon rendered it ‘bleeding uncomfortable’. This would have presented me no problems had my replacement saddle, a foam filled after-market replacement from the 1980’s not also succumbed to the passing years and was discarded by me, confident that I could just buy another one. Quality replacement saddles for this bike are thin on the ground.

Continue reading “Sitting pretty, switched on” →

Slow down. In the interim of ignored leaky fork seals the front brake (there are two, one linked with the rear and activated by the foot pedal and the other paying lip service to the hand lever) began weeping brake fluid over any vulnerable paint in the vicinity. Brakes, for which the term “wooden” would be flattery, were demanding attention. Brembo rebuilds are, for the most part, straightforward. Take everything apart and clean it within an inch of its life, replacing where worn and don’t forget that dot4 fluid and dot5 (silicone) are not the same. I had accumulated, through the magic of the internet and a policy of buying is easier than doing, most of the bits that I needed to replace.

Continue reading “Them’s the brakes” →

The one specific thing that had prevented me from, at very least, getting the Le Mans roadworthy was that one of the fork legs was drizzled with escaping suspension oil. The first step was to order some new seals but that quickly escalated to new updated cartridge dampers, new progressive springs and new stanchions (the chromed tubes).

Spending money is a lot easier than spending time and so the parts sat and waited.

Eventually circumstance contrived to drive me into action. The relentless cycle of pressure, stress and friction at work then drinking for companionship in the quest for oblivion had to be broken. I surfaced this adventure and requested a break, six months hence and the game was afoot.

Continue reading “Brace yourself (Fork off)” →

Way back in the day, when I first had the bike, I replaced the standard handlebar grips with aftermarket foam ones. My thinking was that they would reduce vibration to my hands, looked fairly hard core and even, and I’m pushing it here, were a little lighter.

They were glued on. At that time I may have assumed that my life would progress in such a magical meteoric rise that the perished and crumbling consequences of my past actions would not trouble me. Time proved me wrong.

Continue reading “Get a grip.” →

She was always a reluctant starter, sometimes a kick to the solenoid would suffice and sometimes a sweating, panting run down the road followed by a leap of faith onto the saddle would rouse her into life. So it was when I finally gave in to the guilt and hooked up a car battery to turn her over and persuade a little lube around those dry and neglected canals. No joy, so I stripped and rebuilt the starter all to no avail and eventually bought an updated, uprated, replacement.

Old iron

Continue reading “Start me up” →

Sometimes it’s hard to make a start on anything and sometimes it’s too easy to make a start on everything and then stall paralysed by the choices. For the Le Mans it the former and even the purchase of a motorcycle lift failed to spur this project into life. I prevaricated over what kind of project it would be, a sympathetic restoration, an oily rag rat bike or a wire wheeled, alloy tanked cafe racer. In my head I would one day find myself with the peace of mind to methodically address each component and, in a pristine well organised workshop meticulously raise each to a zenith of perfection.

Continue reading “On the altar” →

I bought my Moto Guzzi Le Mans MK1 in August 1988 when I was 26, you do the math, from a motorcycle electrician who was canny enough to mark the bill of sale “sold as seen”.  I was living in an end of terrace house in Charlton, London and already had a Guzzi Monza 500 so figured that I knew a bit about the breed. At the time there was an under-the-arches Moto Guzzi mechanic behind Deptford Market, Moto Mania, run by a lovely man, who’s name I don’t recall,  He shared his knowledge and I shared my income in exchange for whatever tuning parts, Agostini rearsets, straight cut timing gears, sump extension, flat top carbs, dynamically balanced crank and pistons, that he recommended.  The bike got rebuilt in my front room and I got the satisfaction that comes from learning and improving.

No refunds Continue reading “We’ve come a long, long way together.” →