HIGH costs and ultra-sophisticated machinery often scare-off many potential motorcyclists.

But sampling the joys of two wheel travel needn't cost you a week's wage every month (writes BRIAN GOMM)

With a little effort you can take to the road on a shoestring budget and still enjoy the freedom motorcycling brings.

You might not be able to sample searing Fireblade-like performance or the weather-beating luxury of a fully-faired BMW or a Honda Pan European.

But, if you don't mind getting a bit of dirt under your fingernails and sniggers from fourth-formers, the open road awaits!

Regular readers may recall the tale of the East German MZ 250 single which my son snapped-up for £140.

Somebody had made a half-decent start at converting it into a 'green laner'. With trials tyres, a 21inch front Akront rim and cut-down saddle it looked half right.

Dreaming of MZ's distant glories in off-road enduros I fancied it myself. So when its clutch packed-up after a mere 11 miles I was ready to pounce.

A quick look inside revealed some "ace" mechanic had welded the crankshaft-mounted clutch centre onto the tapered shaft. The son groaned and I waited.

"You can have it for £100," he offered.

Eventually I gave him £80 for it and he headed for the nearest Suzuki ads.

I patted the alloy cap on the fuel tank proudly bearing the inscription

"60 Jahren aus Zschopau", smugly thinking £20 would get me back on the road again!

Months passed as I tried to avoid paying silly(!) money for spares to get it back on the road. Eventually it looked more likely to bear the legend "60 years in Gommy's back garden".

Then one day I was spurred into MZ action when my Norton Commando decided to cease transmission.

Using Accrington MZ dealer Philip Youles, Manchester trader BJ West and London MZ race specialists Burwins, I gathered the bits needed to go ring-ding-dinging a two stroke again. Burwins came up with a sound seat (£20) which needed re-covering but I economised by finding a nice shade of black duct tape to cover the splits.

Wests supplied the clutch centre (£55), crankshaft seals and oil guide plates, and a further £70 to Youles provided a sound flywheel assembly with serviceable big end and even a reusable main bearing on one side, gudgeon pin, small-end bearing, circlips and one new main bearing.

A couple of nights in the shed and the motor was stripped and reassembled, well it seems like that now. In reality I cursed whoever chose slotted cheese head screws to join the crankcases and got cursed for inappropriate use of the kitchen oven to warm bearing housings.

A new chain (£12) and another £26 for the rear sprocket cover which smashed to pieces when the drive chain snapped, and it was ready.

The battery was borrowed off the Norton, some red ultra-wide handlebars left over from a grass track escapade, new plug, emery-papered points, an MOT and tax disc and we were on the road.

That's on the road for £300 including a rebuilt motor. A bit more than I anticipated but as a heathen friend pointed out I could have welded the clutch centre back and ignored the worn main bearing!

Used as an all-year hack bike it's currently elevated to the number one role, and I don't care who laughs.

After a few thousand miles it's more than earned its keep. Sure it rattles a bit while I save-up for a new piston, smokes on start-up and has no street cred whatsoever.

It starts first kick, does at least 50mpg (a bit disappointing considering the performance) and is happiest humming along between 4,500-5,000 revs on flat roads.

But you can head for the hills as I did on it last week. Mind you, my MZ has a bit of what old timers call "character". With no particular place to go on a free Wednesday I wasn't particularly upset when the clutch went AWOL between Chorley and Blackburn.

A bit of judicious timing saw me head off the main road for Brinscall as the rain started to fall. Just before Abbey Village I pulled in, whipped one of Keegan's Daisy Hill pies out of the saddlebag and pretended to be unconcerned.

It's happened before you see. The screwed portion of the clutch operating rod had come loose. A couple of minutes fiddling and normal clutch operation was resumed.

Confidence shattered, nay lad, I had a puncture outfit, tyre levers and an adjustable spanner with me. So I headed north.

Moorland climbs became a bit of a drag, but the beauty of a no engine-braking stroker is you go down the other side as quick as most of the fast stuff. And if you bottle out on an MZ then everybody expects their bike to be faster anyway. You can't lose!

An unscheduled stop came when after giving it a squirt to the red line in first in anticipation of the big jump to second and a steep climb, the generator warning light came on.

Only 80 miles from home. I know, I'll disconnect front stop light switch and not use the indicators and hope there's enough juice in the battery for the sparks department.

Blow it, I'll pull-up and have a fiddle with that stupid control box. Off with the seat. I slip off the wire clip and reveal the internals of the state-of-the art antique Britbike-style regulator.

Poke about at the contacts and clean-up one that looks a bit manky. I thank the Honda 90 farming type who inquires "what's up?".

I feel as though I've let MZ, Walter Kaaden and the whole utility bike world down when I reply "It's all right mate, just a typical MZ character problem. Thanks for stopping."

My heart sinks a bit when I fire the bike up to discover the warning light is still on. No wonder I nicknamed it the Bleg - not quite a bike but better than using your legs.

Ah well, I'll head as far south over the moors as possible, and if it stops stuff it behind a hedge and hope I get home in time for work tomorrow.

Somebody up there must like me because five miles down the road the genny warning light disappeared and normal electrical service resumed. It was later diagnosed as a poor fuse connection - fixed for free with that well-worn bit of emery cloth.

Converted for the new archive on 14 July 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.