Love at first sight: Yamaha XS650

It never fails to amuse me that academic writing types can take something that’s so profound, so emotionally earth-shattering, so life-changing, and reduce it to a few sentences so dry, so dull, so devoid of feeling they’re the literary equivalent of watching paint dry.

‘Love at first sight,’ according to Wikipedia, ‘is a personal experience and a common theme in creative works – a person or character feels an instant, extreme, and ultimately long-lasting romantic attraction for a stranger upon first seeing that stranger. It has been described by poets and critics since the emergence of ancient Greece.’

See? I mean, really? We all know what it feels like to experience the effect love at first sight has upon us; you’re quietly minding your own business, doing whatever you’re doing, when, suddenly, you see someone who, at that very moment you lay eyes on them, sends your world flying; someone who makes your heart skip a beat; someone who makes you take a sharp, completely involuntary, intake of breath; someone who invokes an almost completely irrational reaction in even the most reserved of us to go up to them. No, the effect they have on you isn’t one you can really put into words; it’s visceral, overwhelming, world-changing – it’s certainly not ‘…a personal experience and a common theme in creative works… a person or character feels an instant, extreme, and ultimately long-lasting romantic attraction for a stranger upon first seeing that stranger…’

The thing is, as bikers we get that same kick-in-the-face experience from certain motorcycles, too – on first sight, you can get that same feeling of the world being pulled out from underneath you. It’s not a sexual thing (that’s mechanophilia, or mechaphilia – a whole different kettle o’ fish); it’s an ‘Oh my God, look at that’ – it’s absolutely life-changing when it happens. It happened to me back in 1985 when I first saw The Future Bike, and it happened to Leona, the lady who owns this very black XS650, eleven years ago when she saw it, too. It was, as they say, love at first sight.

There was just one problem – her mum, Ros, had just bought it for herself, off a family friend called Rob Lewis, and she had every intention of racking up miles on it. Leona, though, was utterly smitten, and begged, really begged, her to sell it to her. (“I still have a little niggle of guilt for that…”) I have no idea how she persuaded her mum to part with it, but I suspect it was similar in some way to the way I ‘persuaded’ the lovely Alison up at the BSH Towers in Manchester to sell me TFB all those years ago; like the kids from The Simpsons – “Sell it to me, sell it to me, sell it to me,” endlessly until she gave in. Anyway, that was eleven years ago, and her adoration of the lil’ (physically, if not… umm, capacitally) Yam’ twin shows no sign of fading.

It’s a 1980-spec XS, which makes it a Special rather than an earlier Standard, and no one, not Leona, not Ros, not even Rob the previous owner, knows who built it or when. Essentially it’s a fairly stock XS with a Brat Style-style rear end, a Sportster tank, and a set of funky Biltwell ’bars, but it looks dead right – it’s a simple bike with simple lines; no clutter, no extraneous geegaws or wotsits, just the bare minimum of what a motorcycle needs to run and work as a motorcycle should, and it’s this simplicity that makes it stand out. Okay, so some custom ‘purists’ may bemoan the sticker-bomb tank for its lack of a ‘proper’ paint job, but that’s what gives the bike so much of its identity – if it was perfectly painted, pristine, and show quality, it’d look good, yes, ’cos its lines’d allow it to easily carry that off, but would it look better? That’s subjective… and it’s academic, too, ’cos Leona has no intention of changing it ’cos she loves it just the way it is.

The path of true love hasn’t been without its ups and downs, though. It took her a wee while to get it running perfectly, and she’d like to thank Lewis at Reynolds Motorcycles for setting up the carbs and making it so nice to ride – it starts (mostly) first kick, despite the fact she’s only little herself, and just has that perfect XS rort to its exhaust note.

And, last year, riding home in the dark, it cut out when a wire had wiggled its way out of its casing and got chewed by the chain. She was chewing on a piece of gum at the time and, after a quick inspection, her best friend and riding buddy Rew told her he needed it, and used it to keep the wires in place to keep them from shorting out against each other.

“Thanks to that piece of gum, we managed to limp all the way home; we still laugh about that night now!”

The XS remains, pretty much, as it was the day she first laid eyes on it, “I’ve changed very little on it since I’ve had it… ’cos, well, there really isn’t much I’d want to change.” She’s not so keen on the handlebars grips (“they’re horrible, but…”), and she has plans to, this winter, give it a clean up (“but not too much!”), and get some parts powder-coated, but she said the same thing last year, and probably the year before that, too, so… One thing is for certain though – it isn’t for sale, “definitely not – never in a million years would I part with it!”

Spec:

1980 Yamaha XS650 engine (rejetted carbs, Ramair filters, modified exhausts, BMX kicker-pedal)/frame (modified)/foot-rests/hangers/controls/wheels/brakes/forks/yokes/master-cylinders/hand controls/swingarm, Metzeler front tyre, braided brake lines, Biltwell Keystone ‘bars, aftermarket switchgear/speedo, Sportster tank, aftermarket seat, aftermarket rear mudguard (modified), one-off battery/electrics box, aftermarket rear shocks, aftermarket side-mount ‘plate, Bridgestone Battlax rear tyre, one-off loom, aftermarket headlight/tail-light

Finish:

Black paint & ‘sticker bomb’ tank by original builder

Engineering:

Bike built & all work by original builder

Thanks To:

“My Mum, Ros, for giving in & selling the bike to me; my best mate Rew for always helping me to keep her on the road; Lewis at Reynolds Motorcycles for setting up the carbs/making it run like a dream; all my friends (the breakdown crew) for the help (mainly at the side of the road) when needed; & Rob Lewis for selling the bike to the family in the first place…”