Keith's Little Honda (Part 2)

 By Keith May
(Originally appeared in Cycle World magazine) 


Trust: assured reliance, a person or thing in which confidence is placed.

Trust established and camera in backpack, the XL 250 and I head north Sunday morning on Highway One in search of coastal backdrops. Newport Beach. Huntington Beach. Sunset Beach. Seal Beach. Speedo reads seven-zero through wetlands of Bolsa Chica, but vibrations rattling my vision convince me to slow down. Dodging blind intersections and distracted commuters, the confident bite of a disc brake is sorely missed. Boy-racers curiously shadow us before disappearing into the distance. The Honda’s silhouette an icon for childhoods revisited, she continuously receives nods from sporties and cruisers alike.

When an errant fuel-hose forces a stop on the shoulder, an old landscaper approaches curiously. “Nice bike. Ever get it dirty? Used to ride one myself but not an Enduro. I would of broke the lights off,” he reflected, pushing his wheelbarrow away. He was probably my age when this bike was new. Things were a lot different in 1972.

“Maybe you should start a club,” Editor Edwards mused when the letters began rolling in: “It’s good to know I’m not the only one who likes simple, fun, practical, good old bikes from yesterday…” “Everything you discovered is true, it’s a simple, reliable, inexpensive bike to own and a ton of fun...” “The Honda 250 Motosport will always be a special bike in my book. The styling still looks good today. I call it a classic.”

I began convincing myself the Honda was a collector’s item, so dreaming of possibilities, we visited Boris at California Cycle and Watercraft Design for a paint-estimate. “If you’re looking to get your money back, you won’t,” he said plainly. A well-regarded craftsman, Boris comes highly recommended. “It’s a good-looking bike though. Nice commuter?” “Solid. No complaints. Starts every time.” “I can do it for nine hundred, but personally, I’d leave it alone.” His opinion follows local consensus: “Fine as is…” “I like the patina…” “Looks like a survivor…” “You’d be painting over its history…” “Would only shine a light on other flaws...” “That bike makes me smile.”

So, paint-job or leave it alone? Have an old XL yourself? Send me photos. Maybe I’ll start a club after all.