It was a revelation. I could not believe my eyes. The MZ 250/1 Supa 5 looked chunky and somewhat odd. Suffice to say, that it's strange styling had an appeal all of it own. This bike was the only mongrel in a shop of grinning pedigrees. Nevertheless, it had a charm with a price tag to match and, anyway, I never particularly wanted to ride a Japanese poodle.
After the bike was checked over, I agreed to exchange a season's sweat for the most unique set of keys I have ever seen. I hadn't test ridden the MZ as I wanted someone with more experience to try it out for me. With hindsight, I should have insisted on a spin as well just to see if I liked the feel of it. As it was, I soon found myself astride the machine, carefully noting that the ignition and lighting systems were located on the top of the headlamp. This made switching the lights on a little precarious.
The kickstart was located on the left side which took some getting used to. Indeed, I found that if I timed the stroke wrongly the kickback would painfully whack my instep and also send my ankle towards a sharp part of the passenger's footrest. After a couple of incorrect kicks, the pain is something not easily forgotten. In fact, the inside of my left boot became scarred by the Ankle Knocker, as I called it.
Once started up, it is important to keep the revs reasonably high as the tickover is almost non existent. This, I am told, is due to the very basic design of the carb. I found the definite chunk of the gearchange acceptable, although some people find this too heavy. Also, I found the steering a bit heavy and general control awkward, especially in slow moving traffic. Perhaps the worst aspect was the brakes, both of which were drum and seemed to stick and jerk, generally responding slowly.
It was because of these problems that I decided to reprieve my Gilera 50, taking the trouble to bring it up from my home to where I was then living courtesy of British Rail, in order to take the motorcycle test. I was convinced that taking the test on the MZ would have stacked the odds against me. I don't think I would have passed first time if I hadn't used the Gilera. Nevertheless, I came to enjoy using the MZ even if it was a bit slow. Its main advantage was that it would plod away mile after mile.
I had some ignition problems at first - to start with it seemed to have the wrong grade of spark plug which was a bind until I found one suitable for the bike. The grade seems to vary slightly from bike to bike, and no doubt usage comes into it. Also, being a two stroke, I had to use the built in measuring cap in the petrol tank to add oil, which I soon found created an oil/petrol mix which was slightly on the rich side.
As time went on the bike never failed to amaze me. For example, it could travel in the pouring rain from Portsmouth to Rugby without any trouble, yet splutter and die travelling down the promenade in similar conditions during the illuminations. I also recall one time when the bike was miles from home and I had not experienced any problems on the outward journey, when it came to returning home the bike would not start. The usual procedure was observed but to no avail. As I needed to get back before night fall, I rang the trusty RAC.
Unfortunately, on this occasion the RAC chap too couldn't get it going. It was an indefinable problem, MZs seem to do this now and again. The end result was that the RAC took me home......perhaps I need not add that the MZ started first kick the following morning. This sort of temperamental behaviour leads me to brand the MZ unreliable as a get to work bike. Although some enthusiasts with a strong left leg and a garage have told me otherwise.
Despite its obvious problems, there is a lot to be said for the solid engineering of the MZ. I had been forced to leave the bike in a semi-sheltered condition for over a year with the side cover off on the kickstart side, exposing some vital components. As it happens, the kickstart had snapped and I hadn't the time nor the facilities to reset the spring mechanism.
Having eventually obtained the spares cheaply, together with a new battery, I pieced the bike together again. As I an no mechanic, it is a testament to the design of the bike that I could complete such an operation so easily. When the moment of truth arrived, I depressed the kickstart with mixed thoughts. With the first kick I noticed a strange noise below - it was alive bit only just.
For the couple of seconds which followed I fought to maintain that spark but it was in vain. However, by the third kick I was off on a test ride. By the end of the week I was ducking and weaving down the M63 and over the congested Barton Bridge towards Stockport. Also, to my surprise, it sailed through its MOT, even the often criticised electrics had held good.
I have also discovered a comradeship between MZ owners which is very enjoyable. It would also seem that I am not the only person to appreciate the all round durability of the MZ. Whilst on my way to the Channel Islands, I met a biker who was on his way to North Africa on his BMW. He also owned a MZ and had seriously considered taking it instead of the BMW.
Owning a MZ can lead to some interesting experiences. When I arrived at the Channel Islands I parked up for an hour or so and on returning I was not too happy to see a group of grinning bikers ridiculing my MZ. Never have I been so relieved when it burst into life on the first kick. However, the cloud of blue smoke from the exhaust took the edge off my glory and gave the boys something to laugh at!
The good side always makes up for the few anti social people about. Indeed, I remember one incident in particular with initial relief and later affection. I was on my way back from Chester races with a friend who had no affection for bikes and yet was being quite adapt at leaning into corners and generally behaving as all good pillion passengers should. We passed though a Shropshire village when we were spied by the local police. All my senses told me that we were going to be stopped; and so it was.
As he approached he looked fairly friendly, more bored than menacing. Apparently, it was a routine check, a new face in the area, documents in order, and what kind of bike is this, asked he? I decided to take it at face value, that it was genuine interest and he really didn't seem to have seen an MZ before. So, I told him about the primitive electrics and the difficulty in getting to the fuse box which meant unbolting the seat. He was not at all impressed with the old style headlamp ignition switch that made security a joke. Having spent some 20 minutes, perhaps the most pleasant 20 minutes I have ever spent with an officer of the law, we parted in good humour.
In conclusion, I hope that I have not painted too bleak a picture of the MZ. I have not regretted buying one and indeed still own one. The updated version of the MZ, the ETZ is a step in the right direction, especially the disc brake. However, it is strictly for the enthusiast with a little mechanical knowledge, a garage and a lot of patience.
Paul Ainscough
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Many MZ owners also have BMW boxers, but not I, the '74 machine my only means of transport. What brings BMWs to my mind is the four speed gearbox (later models have five gears). My engine had done 56000 miles, which probably explained a lot. The box had a BMW like clunk and was like trying to slice a shovel through fast setting concrete.
Getting from first to second was such a major achievement that I usually tried taking off in second. This tended to burn the crankshaft mounted clutch, which preferred to connect the engine to the gearbox with all the directness of a shotgun going off. After a week I had just about come to grips with this amusing combination of dead end engineering.
When the box and clutch weren't complaining, the engine rattled like a Kawasaki triple in desperate need of a rebore. The motor had probably been rebored a couple of times, but apart from the noise and transmission was surprisingly powerful, able to see off rat Superdreams. That was guaranteed to make their owners go into a frenzy. Not least because they didn't like being covered in clouds of blue smoke, the result of the total loss oil system.
Top speed turned out to be 87mph. I only found this out when in the company of a friend on a GPz305, as the MZ's speedo comes to a stop at 80mph. It's doubtful if this would be accepted as an excuse if I was ever booked for doing that kind of speed. With the state of the gearbox, it wasn't really worth trying to thrash it through the ratios. The best thing was to stick it into fourth, find a long bit of road, get the throttle to the stop and get my head down in the clocks.
It was then just a question of watching the speedo waver up to 80mph, although it would hit 70 to 75mph with indecent haste. I was quite surprised that such an old motor was able to sustain a 75mph cruising speed with apparent ease. The gear ratios, again, were so largely spaced that changing down whilst braking would often have the back wheel hopping like a rap dancer.
It actually felt smoother at 70 to 75mph than at 60mph. Perhaps a quirk of the engine mounting system that had the two stroke single leaping about in a frenzy at low revs (so much so that I'm surprised they are not popular with Norton Commando owners). Flat out it vibrated like an overloaded Jumbo jet on take-off, palpitations hitting hands, feet and knees (via the curiously shaped petrol tank, replacement of which would transform the whole appearance of the Iron Hamster).
If the performance was surprising, so was the handling. Part of the feel was down to the riding position - flat bars, a large narrow tank to grip with knees, and a reasonable footrest position (I would've ideally preferred them a few inches back). The rest was due to sensible frame geometry (partly resultant from the minimal mass) and the stiff, well damped suspension (it'd been updated about a year ago).
It was ridiculously easy to see off Japanese hacks on country roads, wallowing horrors like Superdreams didn't have a hope. I had quite a few dices with big Japanese fours, taking the inside line and giving their riders mild heart attacks. The MZ could be well heeled over on the left but on the right, the massive exhaust, which jutted out half a foot behind the bike, would scrape along the tarmac. Believe it or not, on most roads the MZ was immense fun!
The first thing to upset the poise was when the swinging arm bearings developed some slop. There was only a slight amount of movement but it was enough to have the rear wheel flapping about frantically. It didn't feel safe above 40mph, something I soon became very fed up with. The swinging arm was seized in, needed a massive amount of hammer abuse to remove. After I cleaned the gunge off I found some cracks in the welding. With the excess of rust, I decided a replacement from a breaker, at an extravagant £5, was deemed the best solution.
The tyres were cheapo Pirellis, almost worn down to the carcass (figure about 15000 miles) but they still held the road well in the dry. Wet weather produced some vivid slides, especially at the rear, which had an on-off brake of surprising power. As an MOT was due I had no choice but to replace them with a set of Pneumats, at a fiver a pair from the local MZ dealer (he tore them off new bikes as a matter of course) they were too good a deal to resist.
It perhaps shows up how stupid is the MOT system, as they were worse than the worn Pirellis in the wet, but they weren't bad in the dry. I just had to ride very carefully every time the road was a little damp. Clutching the new MOT certificate in my hand, I was happy enough with the compromise.
It wasn't long after that when the seat started to fall apart. Well, it had been held together with black tape ever since I had it. I'd taught myself to ignore the wet backside for a week every time it rained, as it soaked up the water like a sponge. I was tempted by a seat cover until I found a later seat for a fiver, which needed some work with the hammer and drill to bodge on. It was actually slightly lower as it fitted closer to the frame rails.
Most TS owners complain about the SLS front drum, a device so pathetic it wouldn't be out of place on a Honda Melody. Mine had been replaced with TLS wheel off a Honda CB175, a bike capable of a similar top speed to the MZ. This was a bit vicious in the wet but nothing a few weeks use couldn't counter. Usually, it provided rapid retardation, but a couple of desperate stops from in excess of 80mph would cause it to overheat. Fade then set in for the next quarter of an hour until it'd had a chance to cool down. The shoes didn't seem to wear and it needed a minimal amount of attention. The drum brake off the CB250K4 is even better, by all accounts.
Other perennial MZ problems are mostly down to the pathetic electrical system. Mine had been uprated to 12 volts, halogen headlamp, and solid state regulator. A Japanese ignition switch hidden under the sidepanel proved troublesome. The combination of water (pouring out of the seat and working its way down) and vibes soon had this in a trillion bits.
The engine stalled dead in the midst of highly amused cagers, who had trouble realising that they were supposed to lose 50mph in a few seconds. I saved myself by throwing the MZ into a hedge than ran along the road, doubtless making their day. Some hurried wiring work had the bugger running again. I eventually fitted a new switch where it belonged, in the headlamp shell.
One problem I did share with most TS owners was ignition coil breakdown. This initially manifests itself by the engine cutting out when hot and then starting again after it's cooled down. The proximity of the coil to the cylinder doubtless doesn't aid longevity. Eventually, the engine will refuse to start. Changing the coil every 5000 miles solves this problem.
Those owners who insist on sticking with the mechanical voltage regulator will experience melting batteries and blowing bulbs. I've heard of them failing in less than 2500 miles. The only problem I've had with my electrics has been short-lived spark plugs. They need replacing every 1500 to 2000 miles, probably down to the heavy amount of lubricant that was going through the engine (better safe than sorry).
One annoying aspect of the MZ was a gear lever that came lose, however much I tightened up its bolt. The shaft was so worn that as soon as it loosened a minimal amount the lever promptly fell off! Once I had to do forty miles stuck in fourth with the result that the clutch burnt out (fixed with used spares). The frenzied nature of the vibes meant I had to go over the engine bolts every week.
The gear lever eventually refused to work any more, just turning on the shaft, so I put on a liberal coating of Araldite, tightened the lever back up and left to set overnight. That was the end of the lever falling off, but I'd set the lever about 5 degrees too high, which made the already nasty gearchange even more traumatic.
I couldn't complain, though, in two years I'd done 21000 miles with hardly any expense. By then the rattles were beginning to make my head ache and the dose of pollution was making pedestrians keel over in coughing fits. I'd secured a cylinder, piston and head that had been worked over ready for MZ racing, but had never been fitted as the owner had fallen off, wrecking his and about half a dozen other MZs. Serves him right for doing something stupid like racing an MZ.
T
he engine was dead easy to pull apart, with none of the dreaded stripped threads that afflict Japanese alloy. Putting it back together, I managed to break the top ring, it seemed incredibly brittle. So, I had to buy a new ring but the second attempt did the same trick. I couldn't believe it. There was a bit of roughness at the bottom of the bore, which I hit with the emery cloth. The third attempt (having bought two rings this time, just to be on the safe side) I was back in business.
The engine was so quiet and the smokescreen so mild that I thought there wasn't any oil getting through! I rode around slowly for the first few hundred miles until I started giving her some throttle. This one would scream up to 80mph on the clock so forcefully that it threatened to bend the needle against its stop! My friend on a 250 Superdream was devastated by the way the MZ hollered off up the road.
I was so impressed that I decided a respray was in order. The alloy finish was remarkably good, responding to fervent polishing. The only tedious part was cleaning the rust off the spokes and painting them silver. The finished product, in bright yellow, looked much nearer two years old than twenty!
It was perhaps typical of my life that a mere fifty miles after this complete renovation I hit a cage which had done the usual trick of shooting out of a side street. The front end was so deeply embedded in the car that both were a write-off. I survived with minor bruising. Yes, I'm looking for a replacement TS250!
Steve Jennings