Alright, so let me tell you about this 1985 Honda CB650SC Nighthawk I’ve been messing with. It kinda fell into my lap, you know? A buddy of mine was clearing out his garage, said he was tired of looking at it. Price was right – basically a handshake and a promise to get it running again. I’ve always had a soft spot for these older Hondas, figured, why not?
First Impressions and the “Oh Boy” Moment
When I first got it home, it looked… well, it looked like it had been sitting for a while. Dust everywhere, a bit of rust here and there, tires flatter than a pancake. The usual stuff for a bike of this age that hasn’t seen love in years. Popped the seat off, took a look at the battery – dead as a doornail, no surprise there. The previous owner said it “ran when parked,” which, as we all know, can mean anything from “it ran yesterday” to “it ran sometime during the Carter administration.” In this case, I was betting on the latter.
Getting My Hands Dirty
First things first, I gave it a good wash. Amazing what a little soap and water can do for your motivation. Then, I pulled the plugs. They were pretty fouled, so I tossed in a new set. Drained the old gas – smelled more like varnish than fuel. The tank had a bit of surface rust inside, so I spent an afternoon doing the whole vinegar soak and rinse routine. Tedious, but necessary.
Next up, the battery. Got a new one, hooked it up, and held my breath. Turned the key… and nothing. Well, not nothing. I got a flicker from the neutral light, so at least some electrons were flowing. Checked the fuses, all good. Then I remembered the kill switch. Flipped it, hit the starter, and it cranked! Slowly, but it cranked. Progress!
The Carburetor Saga
Now, for the main event on pretty much any old bike that’s been sitting: the carburetors. These Nighthawks have a bank of four Keihins, and I just knew they were going to be a nightmare. Pulled them off, which is always a wrestling match with old intake boots. Sure enough, opening them up, the float bowls were full of green gunk and the jets were clogged solid. You gotta love ethanol-laced gas left to sit, right?
So, I did the full tear-down. Soaked everything in carb cleaner, poked out every tiny passage with a thin wire, blew it all out with compressed air. I must have taken them apart and put them back together three times before I was happy. It’s just one of those jobs, you know? You think you got it, then you find another speck of dirt. Replaced all the o-rings and float needles while I was in there. Might as well.
Fuel, Spark, and… Life?
With the carbs back on (another wrestling match), fresh gas in the tank, and a prayer, I hit the starter. It coughed. It sputtered. It backfired. But it was trying! Gave it a little squirt of starting fluid, and it roared to life for a second before dying. Okay, so fuel was getting there now. Played with the choke, feathered the throttle, and after a few more tries, she actually idled! Rough, but idling. That’s always a good feeling, hearing an engine wake up after a long sleep.
Changed the oil and filter, of course. The old oil was black as night. Adjusted the idle speed and messed with the pilot screws a bit to smooth things out. It still wasn’t perfect, but it was running on all four cylinders.
Making it (Relatively) Safe
Next, brakes. The front brake lever felt like squeezing a rock. Pulled the caliper, cleaned out the gunk, new pads, fresh fluid. Bled it, and voila, actual stopping power. The rear drum brake was okay, just needed adjustment. Tires were shot, obviously. They were cracked and hard as rocks. Spooned on a new set. That’s never my favorite job, but it’s gotta be done.
Checked all the lights. Headlight, taillight, brake light all worked. Turn signals were intermittent. Traced that to a dodgy flasher relay and some corroded connectors. A bit of cleaning and a new relay, and we had blinkers.
The First (Short) Ride
So, with it running, stopping, and blinking, I took it for a spin around the block. Still a bit cold-blooded, needed some choke for a while. But once it warmed up, it pulled pretty nicely for an old 650. The clutch was a bit grabby, but it shifted through all the gears. The suspension is definitely showing its age – a bit bouncy – but hey, it’s a survivor.
It felt good, man. Bringing something back from the brink. It’s not a show bike by any means. It’s got scratches, dings, a bit of patina. But it runs, and it’s fun. That’s what counts, right?
What’s Still on the To-Do List
- Synch the carbs properly. It’s running, but I know it could be smoother.
- Maybe look at the fork seals. They look a little weepy.
- The seat cover has a tear. Might try to patch it or just live with it.
- Just keep riding it and sorting out the little gremlins as they pop up.
So yeah, that’s the story of my ’85 Nighthawk project so far. It’s been a good little time-waster, and it’s always satisfying to get these old machines back on the road. They just don’t make ’em like they used to, you know?