Honda CX500 metal wall sign
Transverse 80-degree V-twin | 497cc | Shaft drive | 5-speed | Liquid-cooled | 1978
Size: 300mm x 400mm
Instructions for use:
1. Remove carefully from the packaging.
2. Inspect the sign and feel pleased that you bought it.
3. Find a suitable spot on a suitable wall or door.
4. Position the sign thoughtfully using strips of masking tape if necessary.
5. Carefully mount the sign with nails or screws taking utmost care not to damage any part of the design (Tip: Use fibre washers both in front and behind the sign if you're the particular type or have an obsessive-compulsive tendency).
6. Open a beer, light a fag, hug your partner or favourite pet.
7. Stand back and enjoy the sign and do this as often as time and convenience allows.
8. Drop us an email to let us know how satisfied you are.
9. Wipe the sign occasionally with a soft cloth (and wax it if you're the particular type or have an obsessive-compulsive tendency).
10. Tell your friends.
That's all that's required. The sign should still be fit for purpose long after you're gone, and we hope that's a long time into the future.
IT'S GOTTA BE RIGHT
We only sell signs that we
hang on our own walls. If you have a problem with anything you buy from Sump, tell us and we'll sort it out. Pronto.
No fuss. No arguments.
Remember the first time you saw a Honda CX500? We certainly remember our first encounter—and we were highly impressed with the specification (even though we were riding Triumphs and were required to publicly declare our distain for "Jap crap").
It was 1978. The bike was freshly displayed in the window of a local bike emporium. An 80-degree liquid-cooled V-twin, none the less. Four-valves per cylinder. Electronic ignition. Electric starter. Five-speeds. Shaft drive. 48bhp. 105mph.
Further exploration of the spec sheet revealed that the cylinder heads were cleverly twisted 22-degrees (11 degrees on each side) to keep the twin carburettors tucked in away from the rider's knees. And although the age of pushrods was coming to an end, in this instance Honda favoured pushrods over an OHC arrangement (which would have made the engine too tall).
Stylistically, the design took a little getting use to. The (pressed steel) 19-inch and 18-inch Comstar wheels, for instance, looked like poor man's cast wheels. The saddle was bulky and therefore ungainly. Ditto the fuel tank. And the headlight cowling put us in mind of various older British bikes (Triumph Speed Twin, BSA M21, Ariel Huntmaster, etc), albeit with less elegance.
And what an odd sound that engine made. Sort of throaty with an eager rasp, and strangely hollow too; something to do with the water jacket, perhaps. Regardless, the bike certainly liked to rev, and it boasted a 9,650rpm redline. Interesting heights from the perspective of an average British bike rider.
However, it was some time later before we actually test rode a CX. And the bike immediately surprised us with the torque reaction from the shaft à la BMW Boxer. Seconds later it rolled/wobbled away a little top heavy, gradually settled into a more sure-footed getting-to-know-you cruise, and ended up a very spirited and agreeable 150 mile blast down to the coast and back, followed by a couple of days zipping around Central London.
And we weren't the only ones riding a CX. Despatch riders in particular loved these bikes, some of whom ran up prodigious mileages. We're talking hundreds of thousands, and with surprisingly little work.
A weak spot, however, was the timing chain which, when it wore loose (meaning when it was poorly maintained), would slap about and eventually lunch on the engine with catastrophic effect (and yes; there was a timing chain and pushrods).
The clutch suffered a little too, perhaps largely because many riders really hammered these bikes. As a result, replacement often came sooner rather than later.
And there were rust issues, not least with the silencers and anything that was chromed. So washing a carefully waxing was demanded, and even then Honda's lacquer liked to peel.
One more thing; the rivets in the Comstar wheels could chatter loose. So they bore watching.
But for all that, it was—and is—a great motorcycle.
Honda built a range of bikes based on the CX500 platform, including the 1979 CX500C Custom, the 1981 GL650 Silver Wing, the radical 1982 CX500 Turbo, and the 1983 CX650ED Eurosport.
But the original and relatively humble CX500 is the one we favour, and today there's a large cult-following for these practical and (in their own way) stylish Japanese motorcycles that enjoy a class of their own.
Our metal wall sign is our homage to the CX and will look great on any garage or shed wall.
The size of this sign is a generous 300mm x 400mm, which is roughly the size of two A4 sheets of paper. The signs are printed direct to metal in the traditional way. The price is £14.99.
Will you like it when you see it? We think so. If we didn't, we wouldn't be flogging 'em.
We package these signs as well as we reasonably can, and we despatch as soon as possible (usually within 24 hours of ordering, and very rarely longer than 2-3 days if stock has run out and needs to be re-supplied).
Either way, we'll keep you posted. And if for any reason we can't supply your sign, we'll tell you without unnecessary delay and will refund your money in full.
And remember this if you will:
We don't sell anything that we don't hang in our own garages.
Copyright Sump Publishing 2019