The Honda CB 750 motorcycle is an ever-young model of equipment that will always be in trend. This modification was practically not affected by the latest fashion trends or any technical innovations. Most motorcycle enthusiasts are very loyal to the Honda SB 750 and will not exchange it for anything for many years to come.
So to speak, this motorcycle is an eternal and ageless classic unit, produced in large volumes between 1992 and 2004. Models that came off the assembly line went on sale all over the world, with the Honda cbx 750 replacing its ancestor SV 400. The “ancestor” was certainly powerful, but its weight was too large for comfortable driving, similar to the SV 1300 model.
Sat 750 Honda
The digital quotation 750 means the power of the series is 750 cubic meters, which is not much and a lot at the same time. The motorcycle is a medium-sized and perfectly balanced road vehicle. Honda worked hard on its brainchild, because it managed to create a simple and very durable technique. Surely among the readers of the article there will be devoted fans of the Japanese automobile industry who believe that they know absolutely everything about the Honda cb 750 nighthawk. The Honda cb 750 nighthawk is a reincarnation of the model that was popular in the 70s of the last century.
Travel / Buying a Honda CB750 motorcycle - an adventure trip
“NOW I BELIEVE IN LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT. AND YOU?"
And so... after restoring the ZiD “Farmer” tricycle and purchasing the domestic ZiD “Sova” enduro, I wanted something more.
The newly received category “A” prompted us to study the motorcycle sales market. But what to look for??? Like a virgin, I rush from advertisement to advertisement, consult with friends, but listening to the call of my heart, I decide... Honda CB750!!!
I don’t know why, the classics are more to my liking, but after studying the forums, I am convinced that this is what a beginner in the world of two-wheeled vehicles needs.
The boundaries are defined, I begin to shovel proposals to the author and Avito.
While studying the history of CBI, I come across a division into subgroups - it turns out there is a difference!!! I won’t bore you with the classification; for those interested, Google will help. I can give only one piece of advice, if you want not a training version, but a full-fledged version, the advertisement “HONDA CB750 for sale” with black exhaust pipes is right by.
I look... I look... I take a closer look... Yes, there she is!!!
Full!!! For a good price!!! Looking at the year, she’s not an old lady at all!!! Well-groomed!!! Little Black One expression: “I can’t love, I won’t leave you if I fuck you!”
As usual, for more intrigue in romance novels, there is a “BUT”. I had two of them. Temporary lack of funds and the location of my girl is the city of Perm (about 1500 km from Moscow), but are there distances for love?
I’m calling the owner... Taking this opportunity, hello to Alexey! ... I find out that the ad corresponds to reality - the Honda is in excellent condition. Lyokha is about the same age as me and wanted to change the class of equipment. There are reasons for this - I became interested in circuit racing.
We agree with him that he also continues to sell the motorcycle. At this time, I’m thinking about everything again and looking for money, if I have time to mature and “Sibishka” is waiting for me, then I believe in love at first sight!
July flew by... Half of August rustled by... Every day, getting up in the morning and going to bed in the evening, I opened Avito... it’s still there. One evening, Honda made me nervous with its absence; it turned out that the deadline for posting the ad had simply expired, but in the morning “CiBishka” continued to wait for me!
I won’t lie, during this period I wanted to “go to the left.” Since my circle of motorcyclists, my inner circle of friends are endurists, and everyone has a SUZUKI DR 800 Big... you must understand which way the wind was blowing.
August 28, 2015... Of course, not for free, Sberbank helps out. Money burns my thigh, my friend Roman and I rush to Dmitrov to buy “DRku”.
Dmitrov is met with pouring rain. Here I was ready to believe in a message from above, because I was traveling with money and equipment to leave on a motorcycle. The warnings did not fail. It took Roman 5 minutes to make a diagnosis: “Sanyok, let’s get out of here!” The beautiful photographs by the author hid a murdered spendthrift underneath. An incomprehensible clanging sound in the engine, a rear wheel like an egg, a shabby appearance, these are just what I, as a newbie, noticed. The photographs in the ad, in my opinion, were taken as soon as the motorcycle arrived in Russia. Everything remains on the conscience of the seller, it’s not for us to judge him. Looking ahead, I would like to note that at the time of writing this essay, this Suzuki is still for sale (I posted the photo in a black frame for a reason).
Upon returning to the capital, I take a little beer and, after looking at the ad with CB750 again, I call Perm. Having recently been pricked by beautiful photographs, I ask Alexey to make a video and send it to me (link to review). I call back... “I’m picking it up!” Are you ready to receive me? And then Alexey once again dissuades me: “Why do you need this? The path is not close! Can’t you really find a decent option for yourself in Moscow?” "NO! I WILL NOT FIND IT!”, I answer both to him and to myself. I'm buying a ticket.
On September 1 I leave for the airport. You could get confused and order delivery by a transport company, but you must admit, something would be wrong in this entertaining story. In the end, the thirst for travel would be completely ruined.
Vnukovo... Pobeda... Check-in for the flight...
Under the motto: “Not a day without adventure!”, he was caught in the Pobeda network. It turns out that luggage is luggage, and hand luggage must be checked in and paid for in advance, which I did not do. Therefore, I had to pay extra on the spot, and the backpack flew for almost the price of my ticket. Reader, be vigilant with “Victory”!
Remembering the famous romance: “And together along the path towards fate, without wondering about hell or heaven...”, I arrived in Perm!!!
Late night or early Perm morning. I get from the airport to Alexey. To pay tribute to the Ural hospitality: he met us, gave us something to drink, fed us and took us to show them. I was ready to leave, but the owner did not want to let me go so easily. He showed all the nuances and talked about all the technical squiggles. From the bottom of my heart, THANK YOU SO MUCH. Everyone would like such sellers.
Physical and legal issues have been settled. Since the journey was not close, at my request, the purchase and sale agreement was drawn up in triplicate from different dates. Let's take a photo and say goodbye.
There are 1,500 km ahead to Moscow, which I must cover in two days. Since everything happened in the middle of the week, and I was obliged to be present at the workplace, I had to cheat and deceive my superiors a little, but let them forgive me for this.
Were there any doubts? Not for a second! I sat down and drove off.
After an hour of riding, I begin to notice that the motorcycle is vibrating strangely. Wheel? Chain? I stop at some exit, jump off and realize that this is not a Honda, it makes me feel cold. My carelessness almost turned into problems. Shaking, I put on everything I took with me: thermal underwear, sweaters, raincoat, balaclava. Having warmed up a little and come to my senses, I continue on my way.
Late autumn weather. The horizon is covered in leaden clouds, it rains every now and then, but is this a hindrance to us? Ahead are the expanses of Russia - Mother.
The city of Igra became a most interesting fork in the road on the first day of our trip with “Sibishka”. It would seem like nothing special, a regional center, your whole life ahead. A T-shaped intersection at the exit from the city, and like in a good old fairy tale, where to go? The Yandex navigator leads to the left, through Izhevsk to Kazan. There is an alternative, to the capital of Tatarstan, go to the right. Moreover, this path, according to the navigator, is shorter in distance and time. Time is running out. I wanted to spend the night in Chuvashia. One, two, three we went... to the right... It was a fatal mistake...
Should there have been something alarming? Without a doubt! Small number of cars on the road and gas stations. Absolute absence of trucks and roadside coffee shops. Priestesses of love, ay, where are you? But no! An almost sleepless night, clearing weather, the joy of the purchase and asphalt as smooth as glass dulled vigilance. The cloudless joy ended in the area of the village of Kilmyaz, Kirov region.
The smooth asphalt road gradually turned into gravel, then into wet sand, and then into shapeless clay. Moreover, after the morning rain, it all looked more like a kind of mud skating rink.
Let me remind you that the Honda CB750 is positioned as a classic ROAD motorcycle, but with every hundred meters the road disappeared.
At the beginning, somewhere on a gravel road, I met a team of DRSU workers on a grader, but thinking that it was local and being embarrassed to ask: “How long will this disgrace continue?” I was punished.
Afraid of getting my sneakers dirty, I crept in this direction, pushing off with my toes, but after the first fall in the mud, I stopped squirming. Already leaning on my legs, I wanted to help the motorcycle a little, but in this clay slurry my efforts were in vain, my legs slipped.
About ten kilometers into first gear and full throttle, I reached a more or less dry place in the middle of some village.
A girl walks by on her business. This is where my embarrassment ended, I asked: “When will the road be available?” — Probably when my grandchildren grow up. And so on until the bridge, then it will be drier. — Is the bridge coming soon? - In thirty kilometers! - she answered me.
Cry or laugh? There is no turning back. I really don’t want to go back. I collect strength, will, and whatever else there is, and go ahead! A bright future awaits us.
Having gaped along the way, he fell again. The man driving behind me in a KamAZ jumped out of the cab and helped me get up, thank him very much, because I was already losing my strength. The result of the fall is minus the front right turn signal and the right bracket with the step.
We stop for a smoke break and repairs. Fortunately, the footrest was included in the dowry.
I'm ashamed of Alexei. He washed Hondochka, cleaned it and gave it, it seemed, to good hands, and here the new owner, like a decent pig, ran into the mud.
Having rested a little, he continued on his way. Further on, the road, maybe it had time to dry out, maybe it wasn’t so nasty in itself, but it became much easier to drive. Even in places it was possible to ride in second gear. And around every turn, with bated breath, I expected the promised bridge, but it was not there. And then an unexpected sign appeared: “The crossing is closed! There is NO travel to Kazan!”
Where should the poor peasant go? Desperate, I continued moving in the intended direction. And here it is, the long-awaited pontoon bridge across the Vyatka River! He was even mixed.
Approaching the opposite bank, I saw that the barrier was lowered. The guard jumped out of his guardhouse and was about to tell me something, but when he saw the grimy guy, he stopped short. - When will the road be available? - I got ahead of him. - In seven years! - he answered me. Maybe this is some kind of local humor, but jokes in this genre and in my situation have become rather tiresome. — When will asphalt start on the road? — I rephrased the question. - In six kilometers!
Taking advantage of the guard's embarrassment, I quickly slipped through the crack between the post and the barrier. Maybe there was a fee for the crossing? I still don't understand.
And the guard did not deceive; indeed, the “bitumen mixture” did not take long to arrive.
Dear reader, forgive me for the tediousness written above, but this was done with only one purpose, to convey all the joy that I experienced at the sight of, albeit not a smooth, but quite solid surface. I, no joke, lay down and kissed the asphalt. It’s good that no one saw this road sex act. I think so.
Let's summarize: for a 60 km long section, if Yandex maps do not lie, I spent about three hours of time. Being well behind schedule, I had to forget about spending the night in Cheboksary, and the walk around Kazan in the evening was also in jeopardy.
Having stopped at the nearest gas station, I rather frightened the local workers with my appearance. By the way, they told me where the only car wash was, but I passed it safely and moved on, looking around for another one. At the same time, I admired the beauty of the passing day.
The next car wash wasn't that close. Through the village, or even two. About the prices for services, after Moscow... they are ridiculous. They asked for 100 rubles for washing Khondochka. After everything I had experienced that day, I was in a playful mood and I promised to throw in another fifty dollars if they washed her with love). So we rinsed ourselves while we had the opportunity. They rubbed the “Sibishka” with foam with love, and I washed myself as best I could. To give credit where credit is due, the washer approached the task with full responsibility and wiped away almost every stain while the motorcycle dried. I had to throw another hundred on top for high feelings and efforts.
But as it turned out, the efforts were in vain. Soon a nasty, fine rain began. Dusk was inexorably approaching, and there was no trace of the lights of the big city. At about 10 pm, with the last of our strength, we leave for the district of Kazan. There I realized: “Basta little ones, the dancing is over.” Fatigue was overwhelming, overtaking trucks kept throwing down their visors. Nearest hotel, PIT STOP. — Available rooms? — Bed space 500 rubles! - More options? — 3 beds! You buy everything, we don’t add anyone.
At that very moment I became a terrible greedy person! I don’t want to share my personal space with anyone, cover everything.
Shower, clothes to dry, dinner at the buffet and, finally, a crib. Consciousness turned off the moment my head fell on the pillow.
The Honda, still lovingly, is guarded by hotel security in the local parking lot.
I’ll turn the calendar over and it’s September 3 again... A gloomy morning. It's good without rain.
Rested and sleepy, I have breakfast and quickly pack my things. There are still 820 kilometers ahead.
I decide to postpone sightseeing in Kazan until next time. It’s secondary in this city and everything is somehow passing through. I believe that the third time, the acquaintance will definitely work out.
On the way out of the capital of Tatarstan, right after the bridge over the Volga, I am stopped at a traffic police checkpoint. The inspector, rubbing his hands, comes up to me with the question: “Do you ride without license plates?” Well, straight, captain-obvious. (At one time, Alexey did not want to register the Honda for certain reasons.)
At this time, I slowly take off my ammunition and take out my documents. “Here is a driver’s license, here is a technical equipment passport, and here is a purchase and sale agreement,” I show him. — Did you buy it recently? — the smile disappears from his face. - Yeah! Yesterday. I'm going from Perm to Moscow. — Let’s check the frame and engine numbers.
He calls a colleague, and the two of them try to find crime. Again disappointment... All numbers and letters match the PTS data. “Well, then we’ll check your fines against the database,” the inspector says in a completely upset voice.
And here, as if from a goat’s milk, everything is clean. I try not to violate, but to pay for my sins on time. — We recently received a driver’s license! - he concludes. — I recently opened this category, but I’ve had my driver’s license since 2000. - Be careful anyway. Bon Voyage! - returns the documents to me. - And all the best to you, thank you for your service!
While I’m packing, one of the employees comes out for a smoke break. Carefully examining the motorcycle, he compliments: “Nice!” - Thank you, I’m dragging myself. - How long does it take? I know that it’s a “bayan”, but here law enforcement officers are already bursting with such a question. Without missing a beat I answer: “Everything is in accordance with the traffic rules!” No more than 110 km/h on the highway!
Apparently I was not the first such comedian. He grinned and went about his business.
Along the entire route, this was the first and last demand of the traffic police officers to stop. They came across them later on the road, but they simply ignored them, and at times they pointedly turned away.
The highway runs, kilometers roll on the wheel. The signs remain behind you.
Chuvashia is remembered for its bombed roads. Moreover, a clear contrast is visible on the administrative border with Tatarstan.
Closer to Nizhny Novgorod, the sun peeks out more and more and pampers with autumn rays. The navigator orders a ride through the city, and Honda and I obey him. I didn’t see anything in particular, but the city in general attracted me. I tick the box for myself: “To visit!”
The route from Nizhny to Vladimir is simply a fairy tale. Smooth, wide, you want to go and go, but the tailbone forces you to stop. The next warm-up of the hip joints happened almost at the border of the regions. After this stop, I experienced firsthand the golden rule told to me by the instructor at the driving school: “When getting on a motorcycle, make sure to put everything in your pockets and zip them up!” And it was like this.
I used my phone as a navigator. It was mounted on the steering wheel, and the power source connected via a wire was in the pocket of my signal vest. During a stop, I was too lazy to turn off the PowerBank and threw it on the gas tank. What do you think happened? Right! After a smoke break, I carelessly jumped onto the Honda and rushed on. Having accelerated and moved into the far left lane, I felt some kind of push on my right thigh. For a split second, reflexively, I lower my gaze and see the dangling white charging wire. I repeat that this happened in a few moments. I look back at the road and see that I am grinding against the barrier. And it is solid, concrete, like on the Moscow Ring Road.
How miraculously it was possible to taxi remains a mystery to me. Thank you guardian angel. Still, I hit the divider. But on a global scale of possible developments, the consequences were minimal. Fright, a torn sneaker and a bruised finger. "Sibishka" was not damaged.
I pull over to the side of the road. Coming to my senses, I mentally replay the incident.
A car stops next to me. The guys turned out to be unwitting eyewitnesses. They are interested in my condition, tell me where the PowerBank went and, saying goodbye, leave.
I nevertheless found the remains of the charger, one and a half kilometers from the stopping place. It even turned out to be working, the case cover just flew off.
Until recently, I doubted whether to describe it or not in this article, but I decided. Using personal example, I would like to convey that all safety rules are written in blood! And you shouldn’t neglect them, no matter how stupid they sound in everyday life.
Being completely cautious, Honda and I reached Vladimir. At the local gas station we topped up the fuel and moved on. Now, it’s a direct route to Moscow, but the daylight somehow quickly began to end.
The closer you get to Zlatoglavaya, the more difficult it is to drive. It started to rain again. The headlights of passing vehicles cast various shadows, and my imagination draws something incomprehensible, keeping me in constant suspense.
A call from a colleague from work, who is traveling from Moscow to his dacha in Pokrov, helps out.
I wanted to finish it to the final point and pack the trip into two days, but common sense won out. After a little hesitation, I accept the offer to spend the night with Uncle Vova. I drive the “Sibishka” into the garage and once again understand the correctness of my action. Out of habit, fatigue knocks you off your feet.
Evening memories with a glass of tea on the theme of how it was, barbecue for dinner and a soft bed! Bliss? Not a buzz, but a delight.
It rained all night and continued in the morning. We say thank you to Volodya for his hospitality and move on.
The rest of the journey was almost uneventful, and we arrived at work. A clearly developed strategy before leaving makes my absence from the workplace unnoticed.
Taking advantage of the opportunities of several purchase and sale agreements from different dates, I slowly begin to please my pet with gifts.
I installed a motorcycle alarm, hung up a trunk, and purchased insurance. You can go and register the “Sibishka” in your native Kolomna.
According to the rules, I could legalize my relationship with Khondochka at the nearest branch of the MREO, but as my practice has shown, for some reason it is easier to do this at my place of residence. Although there the process dragged on for hours. I follow the letter of the law, the motorcycle was checked on all possible bases. Finally got the numbers!
In Kolomna I met my brother “Sibishnik”, who owned exactly the same Honda, only a year younger. Taking advantage of the last warm days, we even managed to go for a ride with him. We'll probably be friends with garages!
What happened next? And then the cold came. And without having time to fully enjoy all the delights of the Honda CB750, I had to wash my little girl and put her to rest in the garage until next spring, with the rest of my no longer small motorcycle family.
Am I satisfied with the purchase? Happy as an elephant! I hasten to remind you that I have practically no experience in driving motorcycles, and I have never had such equipment in my life.
As a beginner, the CB750 is very forgiving. It’s not for nothing that in Japanese driving schools this motorcycle is widely used for educational purposes. Good traction from the bottom, makes it take off even from third gear (there was such a thing that I got stuck at a traffic light and forgot to switch to a downshift). By unscrewing the throttle, the motorcycle will not “goat”, and after polishing as much as possible, it will smoothly take you forward. Despite its solid mass, it feels easy to control. Cute appearance makes you attract attention. Comfortable fit allows you to travel long distances. Yes, the purpose of the road does not give complete freedom and forces you to be tied to the surfaces, but after she took me out of a blatant ass in the Kirov region, I am not afraid of anything with her.
The advantages and disadvantages can be listed endlessly and they will be different for everyone.
Overall, the trip was a success. It’s a shame that there wasn’t enough time to give concerts in cities along the way, but there is something to remember and tell our grandchildren.
It’s nice, damn it, to feel in love, especially at first sight!
A.M.
January 2021
Honda cb 750 technical specifications
The motorcycle personifies the manufacturer’s glorious past, and is able to freely compete with other models of equipment. The Honda cb 750 custom was developed exclusively for those who wanted to purchase new and reliable products based on proven technologies. The plan was fully justified thanks to the resulting trade effect. There were three production options for the model, one of which was classic, the second was called “Night Hunter” and the third was educational. The modifications were not very different from each other.
For example, the “night hunter” had one brake disc, although the others had two. The rims also differed slightly in design, as did the shape and fuel tank capacity. Naturally, such changes also affected the overall weight of the structure, which is why, unfortunately, the model did not exist for too long. Subsequently, only the classic modification came off the assembly line.
Sat 750 Honda
