Alright, let me tell you about this Honda C77 I got my hands on. It wasn’t exactly a showroom piece when I found it, more like something dragged out of a swamp. But you know me, I can’t resist a challenge, especially when it’s an old classic like that.
Getting Started – The Initial Mess
So, the first thing was just getting it into the workshop. It was heavy, awkward, and covered in who-knows-what. I spent a good afternoon just clearing a space and then another hour wrestling the darn thing onto the lift. Once it was up, I just stood there for a bit, taking it all in. Rust, and lots of it. The chrome was pitted, the seat was torn to shreds, and I was pretty sure a family of spiders had taken up residence in the headlight bucket. The tires were flat, cracked, and probably original from the 60s.
My first real job was just cleaning. I mean, a proper deep clean. Used a ton of degreaser, a pressure washer (gently, mind you), and a lot of elbow grease. Just trying to see what I was actually dealing with under all that grime. It’s always a bit of a surprise, sometimes good, sometimes not so good. This time, it was… well, it was a C77, alright. A very tired one.
The Teardown – Taking it All Apart
Next up, the teardown. This is where the real fun, or frustration, begins. I always try to be methodical. Labeled plastic bags for bolts and bits, taking photos before I remove anything complicated. But even then, you always get a few stubborn nuts that just don’t want to budge. Lots of penetrating oil, a bit of heat, and some colorful language usually does the trick. The wiring loom looked like a rat’s nest, brittle and cracked. I knew that was going to be a complete replacement job, no question about it.
The engine, well, that was a whole other story. I decided to pull it out completely. Those old Hondas are pretty robust, but after sitting for who knows how many decades, you can’t just expect them to fire up. I could tell just by turning it over by hand (or trying to) that it was going to need a full strip-down. Better to do it right the first time, I always say.
Hunting for Parts – The Never-Ending Quest
Oh, the parts hunt. For a bike this old, it’s a proper treasure hunt. You spend hours online, scrolling through forums, looking at blurry photos on auction sites. Sometimes you get lucky and find exactly what you need. Other times, you’re looking at fabricating something yourself or trying to find a modern equivalent that might fit with a bit of persuasion.
I needed:
- New pistons and rings – the old ones were scored.
- A complete gasket set, obviously.
- Carburetor rebuild kits – those things were gunked up solid.
- Cables, all of them. Throttle, clutch, brakes.
- That wiring loom I mentioned.
- And don’t get me started on finding decent chrome bits or even things like rubber footpegs.
It took weeks, maybe months, to gather everything. Parcels arriving almost daily. It’s like Christmas, but for old motorcycle parts.
The Rebuild – Putting Humpty Dumpty Back Together
Once I had most of the bits, it was time for the rebuild. The engine was first. Cleaned every single part meticulously. Honed the cylinders, lapped the valves, new bearings, new seals. Slowly, carefully, piece by piece. It’s like a complex 3D puzzle. And the satisfaction when it all goes together smoothly, torqued to spec… that’s a good feeling.
Then the frame. Got that sandblasted and powder-coated. Looked brand new. Started reassembling everything. New wiring loom was tedious but essential. Cleaned up the switchgear, rebuilt the forks, new shocks on the back. Brakes got a full overhaul – new shoes, cleaned up the drums. The fuel tank needed a good clean out and sealing too. Found a decent replacement seat cover, which was a relief.
The paint job, I did that myself. Not a professional booth or anything, just good prep and patience. Chose a classic color, something that looked right for the era. It turned out alright, if I do say so myself. Not perfect, but good enough for a rider.
The Moment of Truth – Fire in the Hole!
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, it was ready for that first start. Fuel in the tank, new oil in the sump, battery connected. I kicked it over a few times with the ignition off, just to get oil circulating. Then, switch on, a bit of choke, and gave it a proper kick.
It coughed. It sputtered. And then,
ROAR! Well, maybe not a roar, more like a healthy rumble. But it was running! That sound, after all that work, there’s nothing quite like it. Let it warm up, fiddled with the carb adjustments a bit. Smelled a bit of burning oil and new paint, which is normal.
Took it for a gentle spin around the block. A bit clunky through the gears at first, brakes needed bedding in, but it was alive! A genuine Honda C77, back from the dead. It’s not a speed demon, not by today’s standards, but it’s got character. Loads of it. And knowing I brought it back, with my own two hands, that’s the real reward. Still a few little things to tweak, there always are with these old bikes, but that’s all part of the fun, isn’t it?
