Having built his mountain of parts, World had to organize it. "Like everyone else, I had a huge pile of boxes. I got tired of that, and spent two solid months sorting everything by part numbers." Unlike many collectors who just want to own, World wants to build. This will be the second CB750 he's built from his parts collection. And he plans to build more.
At 2:15 p.m., Mr. CB750 opens his toolbox (such as it is) and gets to work. We quickly see why he doesn't need many tools. Honda motorcycles of that era use remarkably few fastener sizes. Aside from specialty bits such as the fork top nut and the axle nuts, you can assemble a CB750 with four wrenches and an impact screwdriver.
First, World fits the fork legs and bottom triple tree to the frame. Thirty-seven individual balls go into new steering races. For this job, and for the next couple of hours, World gets help from his friend Mike Rondelli. Producing a spanner wrench to tighten the locknut, World's deeply etched smile tightens. "You can tell the torque by my grimace," he says.
The wheels bolt up in minutes, and by 3:00 p.m. the rolling chassis is ready for an engine. World layers duct tape to protect the newly painted frame. Then the engine stand is wheeled into place and World and Rondelli hoist the 175-pound lump into position. After some careful heaving and shoving, the big four is placed in its new home. Hoses, cables and levers are attached. Nearby, World's amazingly original, unrestored K0--with just 428 miles on the odometer--is the ultimate template for accurate cable routing.
Taking advantage of a break in the action, World tells us his story. At a Golden Earring (remember Radar Love?) concert in '76, he saw a glowing neonlike object fly out of the crowd. After researching the new technology, World began manufacturing the glow-in-the-dark necklaces, and World Plastics was born. As a new part of the rock 'n' roll crowd, he hung out backstage and mingled with the stars. World still runs the company, back in Cincinnati, by remote control, while he collects parts and builds motorcycles. Enough chatter. Back to work.
By 9:00 p.m., the instrument cluster is on. This thing is starting to look like a motorcycle. Now it's time to mount the signature 4-into-4 exhaust system. Because the pipes aren't a matched set, it's a tough job. One pipe from Venezuela mounts up next to another that spent the last 30 years on a shelf in Holland. World says, "You can't wait to buy whole sets. If you see one pipe for sale on eBay, you grab it." At 11:00 p.m., the pipes are still putting up a fight, so photographer Brown and I call it a night.
Next morning at 9:00 a.m., World's grimace meter shows a few new wrinkles. He worked until 1:00 a.m. bleeding the brakes, connecting the headlamp,battery and coils and finishing the exhaust pipes. It's another hour's labor to fit the new--but time-tightened--rubber inlet manifolds, the four carburetors with individual cables, plus the plastic rear fender and chrome tailpiece. With the carbs in place, World hooks up a remote gas tank, pulls the bike off the lift, points the four exhaust pipes generally toward the street and hits the starter. Nothing.