scott_jangers
Active Member
Hello DTT. My name is Scott and I'm from the UK, Britain, England.... whichever you fancy. I have no advice to offer, and will probably run into all the same issues that everyone else encounters, but I am willing to learn, I will always say thank you if you give me any help and will never start a build thread which I will immediately abandon or not see through to the bitter end.
I have spent the last 24 years of my life messing around with air-cooled VW's. After running about in various rusty and barely legal beetles, buses and fastbacks, I have finally attained a vehicle that needs no work. In fact to attempt any work on it would, in effect, devalue it. After a bit of subtle persuasion over a long period, Mrs Jangers succumbed and gave the green light to a budget of a couple hundred of the Queen's finest (say $320 is) to spend on my new middle-aged man meltdown.
And what a beauty! That moment in the June rain when I saw the iron oxide hues of its rims or the numerous curves along the side of its tank, I knew we were meant to be together. I squeezed it in the back of my camper and drove the two hour return journey intoxicated by its petroly scent (leaking out of its tank all over the van's rock'n'roll bed).
Needless to say, the minute I got it home, I immediately started the engine with a few kicks and checked everything was in full working order, and then stripped the buggery out of it.
To be honest, I've only ridden a motorcycle a couple of times in order to get my basic licence so I could razz about town on Lambretta's. Motorcycles are new to me. And I know what you're all thinking... Here's another newbie who's bought a turd of a bike and, without first making it roadworthy and understanding how it runs, he's broken it down into its individual components and is expecting to put it back together. Well, to you cynical types I would say this.... You're right. That's exactly what I've done.
I had the bike running before I dismantled it. I checked everything was working and labelled everything, as well as making a thorough list with accompanying photos. But looking back at all those in-depth notes and close-up images now, I have no idea what anything is. What I have is two boxes. The good stuff that I don't plan on using, and the rusty banged up crap that I now have to make good.
I am not planning on turning my overwhelming average CG125 into a cafe racer as, let's face it, I'd be surprised if it'd make it to 50mph. A ton? You're having a bubble, mucker (apologies - unnecessary use of cockney slang). I travel 2.8 miles to work by bicycle everyday, and whilst I'm pedalling furiously away, I'm well aware that I could be enjoying my short life more. What I want is something that incorporates two important factors, the need for me to create something with my own bare hands that is completely unique to anything else on this planet AND the real awareness that I could die at any minute. I thought a motorcycle would tick both boxes.
Since that fateful June day, I have become a father for a second time, and now I am consumed with work and nappy changing, but I have the princely sum of £50 a month to spend on cans of paint, MIG wire or exhaust wrap and an hour or two in the week, during the dead of night, to bang, wrench and curse... and maybe work on the bike too.
At the end of this people may define it as a brat-style cafe street tracker (and they probably need to get out more), but to me it will always be that neglected CG125 I saved from the scrap heap.
I have spent the last 24 years of my life messing around with air-cooled VW's. After running about in various rusty and barely legal beetles, buses and fastbacks, I have finally attained a vehicle that needs no work. In fact to attempt any work on it would, in effect, devalue it. After a bit of subtle persuasion over a long period, Mrs Jangers succumbed and gave the green light to a budget of a couple hundred of the Queen's finest (say $320 is) to spend on my new middle-aged man meltdown.
And what a beauty! That moment in the June rain when I saw the iron oxide hues of its rims or the numerous curves along the side of its tank, I knew we were meant to be together. I squeezed it in the back of my camper and drove the two hour return journey intoxicated by its petroly scent (leaking out of its tank all over the van's rock'n'roll bed).
Needless to say, the minute I got it home, I immediately started the engine with a few kicks and checked everything was in full working order, and then stripped the buggery out of it.
To be honest, I've only ridden a motorcycle a couple of times in order to get my basic licence so I could razz about town on Lambretta's. Motorcycles are new to me. And I know what you're all thinking... Here's another newbie who's bought a turd of a bike and, without first making it roadworthy and understanding how it runs, he's broken it down into its individual components and is expecting to put it back together. Well, to you cynical types I would say this.... You're right. That's exactly what I've done.
I had the bike running before I dismantled it. I checked everything was working and labelled everything, as well as making a thorough list with accompanying photos. But looking back at all those in-depth notes and close-up images now, I have no idea what anything is. What I have is two boxes. The good stuff that I don't plan on using, and the rusty banged up crap that I now have to make good.
I am not planning on turning my overwhelming average CG125 into a cafe racer as, let's face it, I'd be surprised if it'd make it to 50mph. A ton? You're having a bubble, mucker (apologies - unnecessary use of cockney slang). I travel 2.8 miles to work by bicycle everyday, and whilst I'm pedalling furiously away, I'm well aware that I could be enjoying my short life more. What I want is something that incorporates two important factors, the need for me to create something with my own bare hands that is completely unique to anything else on this planet AND the real awareness that I could die at any minute. I thought a motorcycle would tick both boxes.
Since that fateful June day, I have become a father for a second time, and now I am consumed with work and nappy changing, but I have the princely sum of £50 a month to spend on cans of paint, MIG wire or exhaust wrap and an hour or two in the week, during the dead of night, to bang, wrench and curse... and maybe work on the bike too.
At the end of this people may define it as a brat-style cafe street tracker (and they probably need to get out more), but to me it will always be that neglected CG125 I saved from the scrap heap.
![20151008_191631[1].jpg](/data/attachments/67/67779-7037e516a1cb0eaa8398686cfe4b7fd9.jpg)
best intro ive read for a long time so if ya gonna be as good with spanners as you are getting the interest juices of us lot flowing sure ya gonna have a accomplished ride 
