Honda CB750 - CLASSICS REMEMBERED

My dad used to pass through Grand Central Station every working day. One day he saw a shop displaying a card of nicely-made fishing flies, but they were not made in the classic patterns fishermen use. Over the next few weeks he saw that one or two flies were sold off the card, but that was all. A few months later, the card was replaced with one bearing all the classic fishing fly patterns. They sold out. Someone had done the necessary market research to move fishing flies. Methodical. As was done with CB750.

Until 1969, when Honda released the in-line four-cylinder CB750, the British bike industry could console itself with the thought that while Japan was the source of lots of small bikes, if a rider wanted adult-strength motorcycling with 100-percent testosterone certification, he had to buy a hot, vibrating British twin from Triumph, BSA, or Norton.

Over the years, many articles had been written about Italy's "all-conquering" MV Agusta-four-cylinder racers, but there was no point in lusting after anything of the kind because economics forbade it. Four-cylinder machines were exotic and sounded great, but were inherently too expensive for the market.

On the other hand, Mr. Soichiro Honda had visited the U.S., the birthplace of mass production. Like Alfred P. Sloan of General Motors before him, he imagined a stairway of models. For GM, it began with Chevrolet and ended with Cadillac. For Honda, it had begun with millions of $275 50cc step-throughs, expanded through the SOHC 125 Benly, 250 and 305 Hawk and Super Hawk twins, and the DOHC 450 twin of 1966. Was that it? Surely Honda had not undertaken the expense of nine years of top-level Grand Prix road racing just to put the phrase “Honda Four” on everyone’s lips for nothing?

Edward Turner, designer of the original British twin, the 500cc Speed Twin of 1937, made a trip to Japan in 1960. At the time it was fashionable to regard Japan as "a nation of copyists" churning out cheap goods by sweat-shop labor. What Turner found instead was the most modern and highly automated production lines, backed by well-equipped R&D labs, staffed with graduate engineers. He knew the Japanese were coming to world markets because Honda had run 125 twins in the Isle of Man TT races the year before, and had followed that with 250cc four-cylinder factory racers in the Spring of 1960.

We know how that story went. In 1969 Honda brought an SOHC two-valve transverse in-line four cylinder motorcycle to the U.S. market at a price that sold great numbers. Very quickly, four cylinders became well established as all of the Japanese Big Four offered their own designs.

Honda did not make the mistake of trying to “productionize” their racers, each of whose cylinders had four tiny valves, moved by gear-driven twin overhead cams, all implemented with watchmaker’s precision. Honda engineers knew that cutting parts count cuts production cost, so two valves took the place of four, and SOHC took the place of DOHC. Instead of expensive gear drives as in the racers, chains drove both cam and gearbox. In place of the fanatical precision of the pressed-together roller cranks of Honda’s 2, 4, 5, and 6-cylinder racers, a long-lasting one-piece crank spun in automotive-style plain insert bearing shells. Yes, there were twice as many pistons, rods, valves, and springs as in a British twin, but in every other respect the latest lessons of mass production had been applied to bring costs down to what the market could afford.

GM stylist Harley Earl had said, “Styling must lead the public, but never by too far.” The CB750’s four mufflers resonated with the riding public, who had so many times seen images of the four jutting megaphones of victorious Honda racers.

Solidifying the reputation of the new machine was Dick Mann’s 1970 win in the Daytona 200 mile road race–on a race-tuned version of the CB750.

Hondas started electrically, the innovation derided by many but which no one could resist. Yes, kick-starting was great theater, but it didn’t always end well. After the 20th exhausting but manly stab at the lever, onlookers began to drift away. Why not just hit the button and go?

As our great lyricist Peter Egan once noted, the phrase, "He's out there somewhere, on a Triumph" was possible cause for concern. It summoned up "men in peril upon the sea." But substitute 'Honda' for 'Triumph' and you knew any adventure was up to the rider.

The British industry, directed by finance men rather than engineers, made the predictable mistakes and melted away. Today, two basic motorcycle engine types predominate–twins and fours.