There’s a growing band of unhinged, usually young, mechanical geniuses who have taken upon themselves the task of hacking about the most popular motor vehicle in history, the Honda Super Cub. The Super Cub has been in production since 1958, and over 100 million have been produced. Honda mucked about with the concept a little, using the engine in monkey bikes and recently a very flash model appeared with a 125cc engine, alloy wheels and all manner of geegaws.
The original Cub has been widely copied, both as a concept and as a direct rip-off. And there’s been a trend for young Antipodeans to ride Aussie Post Office surplus off-road CT110 versions around the world. But it’s only recently that the Super Cub has become a custom builder’s target bike. Turn up at any show these days and you’ll see a goodly scattering of the things, some more practical than others. A C90 with the wheels from a Volkswagen Caddy pick-up truck managed to look impressive and, at the same time, unrideable. That’s not to say it was necessarily unrideable, it just looked it. And I used to own an MZ ES250, so I know all about apparently unrideable motorcycles.
In theory it should be easy to get started in the arcane world of Cub customising. Just rip off the plastic bodywork, spray the rest of the bike matt black and you’ve got an instant custom. In theory. And as anyone who has ever tried to restore or customise a motorcycle knows, it really isn’t as simple as that.
Rob McInally’s C70, ‘Stock-ish’, was originally that traditional barn find, comprising a rusty blue relic with a now sought-after Craven period top box. Like many a Cub, it refused to die of neglect. ‘It had stood for 10 years. At least,’ he says. After a bit of tweaking he’s ended up with about as basic a motorcycle as you can get, with wheels, engine and frame.
Oh, and nitrous oxide injection.
Diese Geschichte stammt aus der November 2019-Ausgabe von RealClassic.
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Diese Geschichte stammt aus der November 2019-Ausgabe von RealClassic.
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