Alright, so today I’m gonna talk about this ’82 Yamaha XJ650 I picked up. It’s been a journey, let me tell you. Not one of those shiny, perfect restorations you see on TV. Nope. This was real life, grease under the fingernails, and a whole lot of “what have I gotten myself into?”
I stumbled upon this bike, really. Wasn’t actively looking for another headache, but you know how it is. Saw it listed cheap, “ran when parked” – the classic line. The pictures looked decent enough from a distance. I figured, why not? Needed something to keep my hands busy. My last big project at work had just wrapped up, and they decided to “restructure” my department, which is a fancy way of saying I suddenly had a lot more free time than I knew what to do with. So, yeah, this XJ650 became the new “project.”
First Impressions and the Teardown
Got it home, and the closer I looked, the more I saw. It wasn’t a total rust bucket, thankfully, but every little thing was just… tired. The previous owner, bless his heart, seemed to think zip ties and duct tape were factory equipment. I started by just trying to get a feel for what I was dealing with. Pulled off the seat, the tank. Looked at the wiring. Oh boy, the wiring.
The plan was simple: get it running safely, then worry about making it pretty. Famous last words, right?
- Check for spark.
- Clean the carbs (I knew this would be a big one).
- Change the oil and filter.
- See if it would even turn over properly.
Wrestling with the Carbs
Those four Mikuni carburetors. If you’ve ever worked on an old Japanese four-cylinder, you know the special kind of joy these things bring. They were gummed up something awful. Took me a whole weekend just to get them off the bike without breaking anything brittle. Then another week, on and off, soaking them, scrubbing tiny little jets with a guitar string, blowing out passages with compressed air. I swear, some of that old gas had turned into something closer to varnish. Found a couple of torn diaphragms too. Of course.
It’s funny, you know. Back in the day, these bikes were just transportation. Now, trying to find parts for them? It’s like an archaeological dig. Spent hours online, scrolling through forums, looking at exploded diagrams that were scanned in crooked. Some folks hoard these parts like gold. Others are super helpful. It’s a real mixed bag. Reminds me a bit of trying to get straight answers from HR back at my old gig – you never knew if you were going to get someone helpful or someone who just wanted you to go away.
Electrical Gremlins and Other Surprises
Once the carbs were back on (another wrestling match), I moved on to the electrics. It was a proper rat’s nest. Wires spliced with household connectors, faded colors, stuff just twisted together and taped. I ended up tracing almost every wire, cleaning connections, replacing brittle sections. Found the fuse box was half melted. Nice. Swapped that out. The battery was shot, obviously. New battery in, and I actually got lights! Small victories, people.
Then I tried to turn it over. Click. Click. Solenoid was toast. Another part to order. Waited a week for that to arrive. It’s always something. You fix one thing, and two more pop up. Like playing whack-a-mole. You think you’re making progress, and then BAM, a new problem you didn’t even consider.
Brakes were next. The front caliper was seized solid. Had to rebuild that. Rear brake was mushy. Bled the lines, adjusted the drum. Tires were ancient, hard as rocks. New rubber on, that made a huge difference just pushing it around the garage.
Getting it to Cough and Splutter
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I hit the starter button with fresh gas in the tank. It cranked. And cranked. And then… a cough! Then a sputter! And then, holy moly, it actually idled! Rough, sure, but it was running. I won’t lie, I probably stood there grinning like an idiot for a good ten minutes, just listening to it rumble. That sound, man. It’s something else.
It’s not like I’m building some show bike here. This whole thing was more about the process, about figuring things out, about making something work again with my own two hands. After feeling a bit adrift with the whole work situation, getting this old machine to fire up felt like a real accomplishment. It didn’t matter that it was old, a bit battered, and needed a ton of patience. It responded to the effort.
Still a Ways to Go
So, that’s where I’m at. It runs. It even rides, though I’m still sorting out some carb synchronization issues and a pesky oil weep. It’s far from perfect. It’s loud, it vibrates, it smells like an old motorcycle. But it’s mine, and I brought it back from the brink.
This XJ650, it’s taught me a lot about patience. And that sometimes, diving into something completely different, something tangible, is the best way to clear your head. It’s not a high-tech marvel, it’s just nuts and bolts and a bit of stubbornness. And right now, that’s exactly what I needed.