The saga of the CL90 Scrambler
By Bill Silver
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| Bill Silver (right) with World Champion Jim Redman in 2007. |
Was it a coincidence or fate that
I was born in 1948 exactly four months before the creation of Soichiro
Honda’s Honda Motor Company? Ten years later, in 1958,
eleven days after my 10th birthday, many thousands of miles away
from that humble start, American Honda Motor Corporation was established
in a small West Pico Boulevard building, south of downtown Los Angeles.
By 1967, I was riding my very first motorcycle, a domestic
model CL90 Scrambler, imported by a serviceman and traded in at
a local used car lot. It was the first of many to come, and my relationship
with Honda motorcycles changed my life in ways I could never imagine.
I have to admit that in 1967 I really didn’t follow Honda
motorcycles very closely. I was in high school auto shop and my
mind was set on learning all about auto repair, not motorcycles.
But, my best friend, Art, lived nearly next door to Floyd Emde’s
house and Floyd’s shop sold Brit bikes and then picked up
the Suzuki franchise about 1964. So, my earliest motorcycle rides
were with Art, on the back of a Suzuki 80. It was an exciting time
to be on two wheels in high school, but I never was thrilled about
two-stroke engines; too noisy, odd-sounding, and too smoky for my
tastes. Like Soichiro Honda, I prefer four-stroke engines!
Even my family can’t recall how I was able to acquire my first
motorcycle, but one look at that Honda 90 Scrambler in the used
car lot window was all it took to motivate me to somehow make that
purchase and put me on the road, alongside Art’s little red
Trail bike. There was a night and day difference between the two
machines, and I liked mine best, of course. I didn’t realize
that I had an unusual model until I took it down to the Honda shop
in Chula Vista to show it off. First, the salesman complimented
me on the “nice conversion”I had done to an S90.
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I pointed out that the serial numbers
read “CL90” not “S90” on the frame and engine,
then they wanted to know where I had found it, as there was none
in the US pipeline in 1967. Through the years, I have noticed that
Honda would create a model, sell it domestically, and then ship
it to the US the following year. And so it was that in 1968 American
Honda released the CL90 to dealers in the US. Mine was one of the
first CL90s in the country, apparently, and that made it even more
special to me.
What really sold me on Honda products was my own personal torture
test of this little bike in April, 1967. After a sad breakup with
a high school girlfriend, I felt a need to get away for awhile,
so I spontaneously threw a few items in a small briefcase, put on
a couple of layers of clothes, and headed north on US 395, without
a plan or destination in mind.
As a San Diego native, I really didn’t have much experience
with wind-chill in freezing weather, so I plodded along, unaware
of what lay ahead. I was stopping every 100 miles for gas and I
found that it would require one gallon each time I topped it up.
I stopped in Bishop just as the sun was setting. Bishop was 360
miles from home and I was tired of the droning sound of the little
motor, spinning merrily along at near redline, and the wind blowing
across my open face helmet. I found a phone booth near the highway
and curled up on the floor with the door closed. The CL90 rested
as well, just four feet away. After a short nap, I threw my leg
over the saddle and kick-started the Scrambler back to life, continuing
my aimless trek up the mountains as dark descended on the Sierras.
I began to see the outlines of snow at the edges of the road, but
kept plodding along with the little Scrambler losing power progressively
as the altitude increased. I had installed a colder spark plug and
jetted the carburetor up one size at sea level, but I was now traveling
at 4,000 feet and climbing. Suddenly the bike sputtered and
began to cut out. I nursed the ailing machine toward a ranger station
and pulled out the tool kit to replace the spark plug. I had brought
the correct spares with me, so I installed the hotter plug and prayed
for continued success. One kick told the story, and I was back on
the highway again in pitch blackness, at 45 mph. Battling the cold
and fatigue, my body decided that it was time to stop and get warm,
somewhere.
The first lighted building that I encountered was the Mono Lake
Sheriff’s Substation (6,100 feet), and I was going in there,
no matter what. It was about midnight and I had traveled about 400
miles in the past 12 hours, and I was suffering from hypothermia,
which was a new experience for me. The surprised sheriff deputy
on duty looked at me with some alarm and offered to let me warm
up in the waiting room. I mentioned that it felt pretty cold outside
and he checked the thermometer hung near the doorway. It was
about 20 degrees and I had been driving through it at 45 mph as
the steady CL90 continuing a relentless march towards an unspecified
destination. The deputy apparently felt pity for my situation
and said to go back into one of the jail cells and have a rest under
the dark green Army blankets that were stacked on the ends of the
cots. He didn’t have to ask twice and I was under the covers
and sleeping deeply in minutes.
I awoke at daybreak, shuffled out of the cell (my only night in
jail, and fortunately a voluntary stay) and wandered out to the
waiting CL90. I checked the oil and then pulled the battery cover
off the side to check the water level It was frozen! I tried
to kick start the engine, but it was frozen too! I turned the ignition
key On and saw a faint neutral light glow from the frigid six-volt
electrical system. With the fuel on and key on, I pushed the bike
down the parking lot and attempted to bump start it. It’s
a Honda, after all, so it immediately fired up and began to warm
its innards, slowly, but steadily. I prayed that the charging system
would begin to thaw out the battery fluid without blowing it apart.
After a few minutes of warm-up, I strapped on my helmet, turned
on the headlight and drove off toward Reno, Nevada.
In Reno I found a motorcycle dealer who had the headlight bulb I
needed (low beam had burned out during the night), and installed
it with my little tool kit. It was warmer and sunnier there, but
still about 4,500 feet above sea level. I decided to head back down
the hill toward San Francisco, so pointed the little Scrambler west
back down Highway 80. I took a break at the state line check station,
chatting with the guards awhile, and then made my run for the coast.
Once you clear the winding mountain passes near Auburn, the highway
widens and everyone gets on the throttle, running 65 to 75mph, even
in the slow lanes. I was particularly worried about truckers flying
up behind me, as the CL90 was all done about 60 mph. Continuing
my journey at 95%+ power settings across the Sacramento delta, I
stopped twice for gasoline, then just kept the throttle wide open
for hours on end.
Although I was aware of motorcycle maintenance procedures, I was
basically just checking the oil and watching the chain tension during
the quick fuel stops. I had brought one quart of oil and in 1,000
miles it had only used about half a quart from the bottle. I didn’t
check the points, which must have been closing down in all the heat
and the millions of revolutions. It just kept running and running
and running . . .
Eventually, I completed a journey stretching from San Diego, to
Reno, to San Francisco, and finally to Los Angeles, some 1,500 miles
in three days. I never got the girl back, but my appreciation for
Honda motorcycle engineering became deeply etched in my soul.
Since that experience I have owned over 200 Honda motorcycles, ranging
from a 1952 F Cub, a 1954 Benly to a 1983 VF750F Interceptor and
some handsome CBXs. In 1985, I purchased my first Honda 305
Super Hawk and from that experience I began to write Restoration
Guides for Dreams, Scramblers, and Super Hawk models, plus a Honda
Buyer’s Guide, which was published in 2000 (now out of print).
Now, fifty years after the founding of American Honda Motor Corporation,
I am still riding a 1964 Honda CB77 Super Hawk as my “daily
driver,” and most people know me as “MrHonda!”
I feel privileged and honored to share my little Honda story with
you all. I know that there are a million more stories like this
from enthusiastic Honda owners, past and present.
About the Author:
Bill (aka “MrHonda”) Silver, was born in San
Diego and attended Sweetwater High School where he attended double-sessions
of Auto Shop and was invited to be a representative of the school
at the Chrysler Troubleshooting contest in 1966 Learning by owning,
he bought and sold over 300 vehicles (mostly Honda motorcycles)
in a 40 year period. A self-taught writer, Bill began to document
the details of the 1961 through 67 Honda CB77 Super Hawks in 1992,
followed by restoration guide information on the 250-305cc Scramblers
and finally the CA72-77 Dreams. Bill has been newsletter editor
of the VJMC (Vintage Japanese Motorcycle Club) and has written numerous
Honda-related stories in his own monthly column called the “Techknuckle
Page.” In 1999, he was contracted to write an “Illustrated
Buyer’s Guide of Classic Hondas” for MBI.
To contact Bill Silver,
click william.silver@gmail.com. To
access Silver's web site, VintageHonda.com, click here.
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