1983 Honda 750 Interceptor

When the first Honda Interceptor, the VF-750F, appeared in 1982 it signaled the beginning of a new era. Although the V-4 motor had appeared earlier in the sibling models Saber and Magna, the Interceptor for the first time presented this landmark motor in a truly sporting format. As a factory cafe bike, it distinguished itself from others of its ilk by being purpose-built for that role, not sharing any major components with other models. The transmission was one gear down on the Saber/Magna, the deleted sixth speed allowing for the remaining cogs to be beefier to cope with the slightly higher power and harder use expected in the 'Ceptor. The silver rectangular-section frame and aluminum swingarm suggested racing competence, and the overall busy look of the machine, with its dual radiators (one up, one down), chin fairing and little 16 inch wheel lent a cobby look befitting a machine with serious intent.

I came into my Interceptor as a result of someone else's misfortune. I had by now gotten into the habit of rebuilding wrecked machines, so when my buddy Doug Baynes wadded his pampered unit, fortunately escaping serious injury, he let me know when the totaled-out bike became available for purchase. It turned out to have an extensive list of problems, but at about $600 seemed like an affordable way to get me onto one of these state-of-the-art machines.

I first ordered up replacement fork legs. Once I got these, I discovered that the lower triple tree was slightly bent. Rather than attempt straightening, I replaced that unit, only to find out that the top tree, too, was out of whack. Once I finally got the forks assembled, I discovered that somehow one of the disks was warped. On the cosmetic side, the tailpiece and chin fairing had been reduced to rubble, and one side cover was missing. There was also a minor tank dent and the usual small casualties of a crash.

I wouldn't have minded building the Interceptor back to its original appearance, but a cosmetic restoration would have pushed the cost of the repair into a range I could hardly justify. Instead I decided to go all out and make the machine a custom, a transformation that the previous owner Doug had already begun by adding a custom seat and gold (that's right, gold) plating to engine covers. After repairing or replacing the body parts, I did them up in my by now signature yellow and green. The resulting machine was rather hard to miss. Doug had fitted a Vance and Hines 4-into-2 exhaust that was too loud for my tastes. I ordered up some megaphones from J. C. Whitney which, when used with the V&H pipes, produced a look that could have passed for stock to the uninitiated and a sound which wouldn't bring me any unwanted attention.

The differences between the Saber and the Interceptor were pretty much as one would expect. The handling ills of the Saber which manifested themselves only in hard cornering were absent in the Interceptor. Once again, as with the Z-1, I had a machine that was so competent that at the levels at which I ride I was unable to find to find any serious handling deficiencies. The power and acceleration of the Interceptor seemed hardly any different than the Saber, the slight additional power of the former being offset by the six speed transmission of the latter. High speed cruising was slightly more pleasant on the Interceptor, with its low bars and small fairing. There was little difference in the vibration levels of the two machines, the rubber mounting of the Saber not missed at all on the Interceptor.

One thing that the Interceptor did not have was the Saber's reliability. To be fair, I did ride it harder than the Saber, but the Interceptor's major failure was related to a feature that the Saber did not possess: a "one-way" clutch. The Interceptor was such a pleasure to ride hard that I decided to have a go at drag racing it. I rode it to St. Louis International (now Gateway International) one Wednesday night and, without any modifications from the normal street setup, made my first pass down the strip. I had done this dozens of times on my Z1, so with the Interceptor I employed the same technique, making liberal use of the clutch to maintain RPM as I launched. Bad choice. The Interceptor's unique clutch would not withstand such abuse, and by the time I got to third gear, I had no clutch at all. I thought I had thrown the chain or blown a gear. I still coasted through in the fourteen second bracket, but the bike had to come home in the back of a pickup. I was not pleased.

The problem with the Interceptor's clutch was that to accommodate the mechanism which prevented torque from being passed back to the motor during downshifts, the conventional clutch springs were replaced by a single unusual type of spring which was actually no more that a dished washer. Unfortunately this type of spring has very little travel, and if the clutch is not properly adjusted or some material is lost from the plates, the range over which the spring can deliver effective pressure is easily exceeded. As the pressure delivered by the clutch spring is reduced, the clutch slips and wears away more material, further reducing the pressure leading to even more slippage and wear. This cascading effect reduced my clutch to toast in less than one pass down the strip. The ideal solution would have been to simply replace the Interceptor clutch with the unit from a Saber or Magna, but it was easier to just go with a Barnett kit. Having that made me feel better, but unfortunately the increased strength was accompanied by a reluctance to release fully, reminiscent of some of the worst qualities of earlier machines like my BSA and Sportster after I had fitted the wet clutch.

The only other bad thing to happen was a broken shifter return spring. It seems like I have experienced this failure in a majority of the machines I have owned. I certainly recall it happening on my Sears (you had to split the engine cases to fix it!), the BSA, the Harley Sportster and the Z1. Nowadays I just replace that spring if I even go close to it, but I certainly didn't expect to lose one on a relatively new machine like the Interceptor.

Overall the Interceptor was an excellent machine, certainly a revelation when it first appeared. The reputation was marred due to reliability problems, and my experiences did not contradict that. But in terms of all-round performance, the bike set new standards. In 1986 I put on a more conservative paint job and let it go for about $1,000 to a kid that complained a week later that a head gasket had blown. Sorry, dude. Shit happens. The way he reported hitting 125 MPH on I-270 on the way to his bank to close the deal, I wasn't too surprised. I was just glad I was in the car.