My approach to bike ownership has been anything but calculated. More like completely spontaneous. When I bought my 1988 Ducati Paso, a flawed masterpiece if ever there was one, I wasn’t looking for one, it found me. The same goes for the pair of BMWs in the garage, a 1973 R75/5 (candidate for best bike ever made) and a 1995 K75 (the perfect appliance) and my 1983 Laverda RGS (1980s grand touring at its best). Like just about every bike I’ve owned, they happened to show themselves at the right moment, i.e., a moment when I actually had money. I’ve been lucky. I’ve had some great bikes that I’ve enjoyed pouring energy (and yes, money) into and riding hard, even if I sold one later to fund the next item of fancy that rolled across my path. I think I pushed my luck with my last impulse buy, a 1967 Wards Riverside, nee Benelli, 250.
I’ve always wanted an Italian single, and after committing to last year’s Small Bike, Bike Adventure (SBBA) I needed something A) 350cc or smaller, and B) 1973 or older, so when the Riverside presented itself, it struck me as a perfect contender. Something of a beater and wearing a non-stock but genetically appropriate vintage Benelli Leoncino (little lion) gas tank and seat, I loved its bedraggled, rough-around-the edges persona. Despite never having ridden it, much less seen it in the flesh, I decided to buy it. Serendipitously, a friend passing through Denver where it sat cheerfully agreed to toss the Riverside into the back of his empty van (thanks Dalton), and the next thing I knew I was taking stock of what I’d done. Initial impressions were OK. It fired up readily enough, and a quick ride down the block suggested I’d gotten what I expected, which was a somewhat rough but agreeable old Riverside. Modestly confident that it had good bones, I tossed myself into getting it ready for SBBA 2023’s 800-mile backroad romp across Colorado’s Western Slope.
It’s the little things that usually let you down, so with the engine appearing to run OK I turned my attention to replacing bits that could cripple me on the ride, like wheel bearings, control cables and tires. With that work done, another short ride showed a front end with zero damping and massive dive under braking, explained by the total absence of any fork oil. Topped up, the front fork seemed to function well enough, and oddly with no apparent leaks. A 20-mile follow-up ride revealed vague, unpredictable gear shifts with an almost impossible to find fourth, and a slipping clutch. In went new fiber plates and springs. Refitting the primary cover, four of the eight bolt threads in the case pulled out, repaired with Time-Certs. The poor shifting persisted, and after multiple attempts to properly index the shift quadrant I realized the shift shaft itself was trashed. Amazingly, I found a NOS shaft, and with it shifting reasonably well I felt somewhat confident.
The confidence was short lived. A subsequent 35-mile shakedown ride produced an active oil leak at the cylinder base. Great. Removing the cylinder head and barrel revealed a damaged O-ring at the oil feed port. It was also the wrong size. Apparently, it had been like that for years. With the head off, it seemed prudent to have Doc at the machine shop check the valves. More pain: it needed new guides, valves and springs. Oh, and the casting on the cylinder barrel was bad from the factory, with a void that needed to be welded up. Sourcing valves and guides proved troublesome, solved by buying a complete NOS cylinder head.
My faith in the Riverside was crumbling, but with SBBA looming I decided to throw caution to the wind and run with what I had. To my complete amazement the Riverside survived SBBA, its only mechanical failure on the 800-mile run a broken kickstarter bolt, leaving me to roll start for the rest of the ride — easily done with a 250-pound, low-compression 250 single. On the last few days of the ride, however, I kept hearing the unmistakable “pap pap” of an exhaust leak on the first start of the morning that quieted almost immediately. Loose header pipe? Nope. With nothing evident I figured maybe the header pipe gasket was starting to blow and didn’t worry about it. Back home and less than two miles into my first ride, the head gasket blew. In a big way, spitting out a big chunk of the fiber gasket.
New copper head and barrel gaskets have replaced the original-style fiber units, but that same O-ring’s leaking again. And the clutch is slipping again. And it’s shifting kinda wonky again. And the forks are flat again. And I’ve lost all ambition for the Riverside. Which presents a quandary: what to ride for SBBA 2024? As luck would have it, a 1973 Yamaha RD350 just rolled into view. Ride Safe.