The KL250 is a relatively rare trail bike that never made the same impression as the XL250 or DT175. A year ago I bought a rebuilt 1977 KL for £300. This was a natural for my commuting chores and would even be employed for the odd 100 to 200 mile weekend run.
The single cylinder engine is one of those simple OHC units that the Japanese are so good at churning out in vast quantities. Honda started the genre in the late sixties with the CB150 (later to become the ubiquitous CB125) and Kawasaki went on to perfect its parameters in devices like the Z200 and 250, to which the KL is closely related.
My bike was 15 years old, with unknown mileage, but the rebuilt mill gave every indication of still knocking out its claimed 21 horses. The chunky standard exhaust (a quick rust natural if ever there was one), indicators and minor brackets had been hacked off, helping to get the mass under 300lbs.
Thus it can make the most of its power. Gearing was street rather than trail (off one of the Kawasaki fours) to the extent that a touch of clutch slip was required on take-offs. The engine begins to gasp for breath after 7000rpm but from 2000 revs onwards the mill punches out useful power.
It's never going to be a TZR killer but was able to show its numberplate to any number of flash gits in cages. Better still, frugality had me beaming from ear to ear - 70 to 80mpg - even when cruising at 75mph. The gearing was spot on, able to put 85mph on the clock just as the motor ran out of puff in top gear.
I was surprised at the torque of the thumper motor. No, it wouldn't pull off from 200rpm like an old long stroke British single, but once it had gained a certain velocity it would hold it against some pretty nasty obstacles. Once, two-up, up a hill against a bit of wind it still held on to its 70mph cruising speed without needing any mad antics on the gearbox.
The latter was never entirely precise, took me about a month to master. The clutch sometimes clanged alarmingly, but it was light enough not to hurt my wrist. The gearbox became nasty when the drive chain went out of adjustment, which was more often than I would've liked. Drive chains, admittedly of the cheap and nasty variety, lasted little more than 4000 miles. The sprockets never needed replacement, though.
The rest of the chassis was a mixed bag. Most frightening was the SLS drum brake that looked to me like it might be more at home on a heavy-duty pushbike! It was evidently set up for gentle braking off-road, not for the KL's new found turn of speed on the tarmac. It wasn't so much brake fade that caused heart palpitations but a lack of power.
I was thankful for the light mass, which, together with the wide bars, meant I could throw the Kawasaki around inconsiderate obstacles. It was also easy to aviate the front wheel when it became necessary to use the pavements or ride straight across mini-roundabouts.
The suspension did little to soak up such sudden imperfections. The front forks were probably original equipment but were fitted with heavy-duty springs that felt like they came straight from an old Ducati. The rear shocks were Girlings of an equal rigidity. With a huge, narrow front wheel and fat rear, stability was surprisingly good, it's just that each and every road bump was fed straight into my arms and spine.
Bumpy bends had the KL running way off line with the occasional front wheel twitch on fast exits. Smooth roads weren't a cause for concern, the tautness inhibiting any tendency that the trail based geometry might have towards weaving. In town I had to brace my body against the pot-holes but could otherwise ride in cut and thrust mode with the best (or worst) of them. Fierce engine braking helped out the brakes.
The bike came with some obscure Far Eastern tyres that never seemed to wear. The front would slide on wet roads but was easy to correct. The rear squirmed under power but never really let loose. Overall, the bike felt dependable and easy to control.
The first six thousand miles went by without any engine problems. I changed the oil every 500 miles (there was so little of the stuff it wasn't expensive). I checked the valves at each oil change in the beginning but they never needed any work so I soon gave that up. The single carb only offered tickover adjustment - it needed at least 1500 revs to stop the engine cutting out whilst waiting at junctions.
The first hassle was heavy oil consumption - a litre every 200 miles. The oil ring was worn out. Not cheap to replace as I had to buy a gasket set to obtain the necessary gaskets for the top end as well as a new piston ring. The motor was easy to work on, save that both exhaust clamp screws broke off rather than coming undone! There's always something that goes wrong when stripping old engines. I drilled them out and Araldited some studs in.
I took it easy for 200 miles to let the ring settle in. Sometimes the wear is so bad in the bore that a new ring won't set properly, but the KL responded to my tender treatment by refusing to smoke and running along as normal.
By then I'd become quite attached to the little bugger. This had a lot to with the way it would reliably start first kick even when covered with a layer of snow. The only time it failed to come to life was when the spark plug was more than 5000 miles old. It would become a most reluctant starter then.
Much to the pleasure of my wallet the bike ran for another 9000 miles without incurring any major expenses. Then it started wobbling and weaving all over the road. The swinging arm was so loose the drive chain fell off, locked up the rear wheel, causing the KL to skid off the road. Its only bit of trail work in my hands. Bent bars and dented front rim were the result.
The swinging arm was seized in solidly, took a whole week of thumping with increasingly large hammers before it came out with a large bang. It was so rusted and pitted that not even an old miser like myself could justify putting it back in. A quite common malaise (new bits are not cheap so check before you buy).
Back on the road I noted that the engine was running a bit rougher than normal. Vibes had not been a great annoyance, now they hit the bars and pegs from about 5500rpm onwards, I grinned and lived with it as it would still put a useful 80mph on the clock.
A more chronic problem was the lighting, the alternator barely adequate for simultaneously running the lights and engine. Often, in town, hitting the puny horn with the lights on would cause the mill to cut out. Out of town riding required a car to tag along behind. The lights were so bad that I never rode any distance in the dark.
The exhaust looked like it had been constructed out of three different pipes welded together by a half blind apprentice with his mind somewhere else. It says a lot about the tolerance of the motor that it ran fine without any flat-spots or suicidal inclinations towards holing pistons. The police and MOT tester were somewhat less tolerant but I got away without a fine or fail.
The bike had been resprayed many times, most of the chrome replaced with matt black paint. It didn't look like it had just come out of a showroom, but neither did it cause passing plod to do a rapid U-turn and make with the notebook. I kept patching it up where necessary but as another 5000 miles piled up I knew it was only a matter of time until the engine finally failed.
When oil went down to a 100 miles a litre and top speed became a hand numbing 62mph I knew its nemesis was at hand. A dropped valve whacked the piston, bits of steel and alloy running around the engine until the gearbox locked up solid. I was only doing 25mph at the time and controlled the skid with ease.
I still have the chassis, awaiting a replacement engine. The old mill was a complete write-off internally; even the main bearings were on their way out. I don't know how many times the motor was rebuilt or how many miles it had done in total, but I thought 20,000 miles in under a year of hard use was pretty good going for such an old bike. I'm impressed enough to be actively looking for a good KL motor.
Mitch
****************************************************
What I needed was a cheap hack for the winter commuting toils. I was verging on buying an MZ 250 but couldn't quite bring myself to go the two stroke route. The only other thing to turn up for 200 notes was an early KL250 Kawasaki trail bike. I knew absolutely nothing about the machine but it started first kick, made a nice noise and didn't smoke.
The next day the bugger refused to start. I almost killed myself trying a bump start to absolutely no avail. The spark plug was easily accessible but refused to pull out. After tapping the plug spanner with a hammer it started to creak out then twirled around rapidly. The thread was stripped, had been repaired with Araldite or something. I had to take the head off to have a helicoil done.
The problem with disturbing old engines is that it invariably reveals ever more problems. The camshaft ran in the cylinder head and was more than a touch loose, the rockers had lost their hardening and there was a dirty big crack running through the combustion chamber. I refused to remove the barrel because if there was more damage I'd just chuck the whole lot in the nearest canal.
Phoning around breakers it became evident that nearly every KL250 in the country had a dubious top end. I felt greatly relieved to find a decent one for sale privately for forty notes. I put it all back together and it still refused to start! By then we were halfway through the winter!
The problem turned out to be the coil. A car one didn't work so I had to get on the phone again to the breakers - prices ranged from £5 to £15! After that was fixed starting turned out to be good even in January when the bike was covered in snow. The twee drum brakes were wonderfully sensitive on iced roads but useless for pulling down the speed from above 40mph, they just faded away to nothing. No fun!
The riding position gave great control at town speeds but left me completely at the mercy of rain, snow and hale. It was the quickest way known to man to become frozen and soaked through. Also, the mudguards did absolutely nothing to help protect the bike from the road grime. Not that I cared as it was already a bit faded and worn, the grit just adding to its character.
After two weeks it started cutting out in traffic. I approached the spark plug full of fear and loathing, but it twirled out easily. A new spark plug helped but there was still some intermittent cutting out. Somewhere in its basic electrical system there was a loose wire or partial breakdown of the circuit. The switches turned out to be corroded and the wire's insulation falling off.
I rewired the ignition circuit, leaving out all the connectors and retaining just a single hidden switch. That stopped the cutting out but led to the lights blowing whenever they were used. They were pretty pathetic at the best of times and were cured with direct earth connections to the tiny battery. The horn never worked and there were no indicators.
It was quite capable up to 50mph, thereafter lots of vibes churned in. I was surprised that the buzzing was so intense on such a small bike (later engines had a balancer) but it was no great loss because of the lack of brakes. Engine bolts came loose after a month, the motor leaping about in a frenzy until they were tightened up again.
I thought the chassis was rather good for an old hack. The single down-tube frame was plenty tough enough and the suspension travel sufficient for taking the worst of the council's neglect. The bike had an easy going feel that never strained my body in any way, although I thought the front end was a bit heavy going for a trail bike, quite difficult to pull the wheel up off the ground.
The only off-road work I did was slewing along the grass verge when one A-road I regularly used was completely blocked up with irate cagers. The back tyre wasn't very happy with the muddy terrain, coming close to whacking into the side of a car a couple of times. Both tyres had once been knobblies but were worn down to 2mm by the time I got my hands on the bike - they didn't seem to wear at all and were not particularly dangerous.
The exhaust was slowly rusting through, needing Gum-Gum shoved into the holes as they appeared and becoming louder with every passing day. It never became really offensive and I trained myself to ignore its rotted appearance. It didn't make any difference to the power delivery, even new the motor only made 20 horses.
Engine wear showed up more in the lack of fuel economy than in its performance. I was only getting 45 to 50mpg despite revving the mill like it was an old fifties thumper. Alas, there was hardly any low end torque and some transmission snatch that left the chain in a state of constant of looseness, but then it was some ancient old thing with more tight spots than the editor's wallet. It never actually broke which is the only thing to commend it that I could find.
The gearbox was a laugh a minute but I usually pottered around in third, abusing the clutch whenever it was necessary. Changing down was worse than changing up, no amount of practice had any effect on the lack of slickness. Given that the mileage was unknown and probably in excess of fifty thou, that was pretty much what you'd expect.
Come April I was happy to be back on my main machine, the rough old KL making it seem miraculously sophisticated. That lasted for less than a month - some arsehole stole it! Back on the KL until the insurance paid out on the premium. I nearly blew my top when they sent someone around to interrogate me, treating me as if I was the criminal rather than the thief. He was lucky to get out of my house without being slapped.
The KL ran a bit better in the mild weather, allowing me to take it up to sixty without going into complete self-destruct mode. At that kind of velocity the chassis did waggle around on its long travel suspension and the brakes were breathtaking in their lack of fidelity.
I kept a firm grip on the bars and managed to swerve off the road when two cagers decided it would be fun to crash into each other. By the time I'd pulled out of the skid on the grass and returned to the scene of the accident, there was a lot of screaming and an excess of blood. I felt like riding off but my higher instincts got the better of me - I applied my first aid knowledge to stop the worst of the bleeding. I reckoned I saved the cager's life but the ambulance man, when he finally arrived, suggested I was an interfering old wally! Charming!
I decided to stick to town work on the KL and take the train on long journeys. It took ten weeks for the insurance company to pay out, which was sufficient time to get the KL's main bearings rumbling away. It'd still do 50mph and I carried on until a dealer offered me £350 on a trade-in deal. I later saw the bike on offer for £500 in the showroom! I'm sure the dealer hadn't done any work on the Kawasaki because I stopped the new owner about a month later.
He reckoned that the mill had seized solid a week after purchase and the dealer refused to do anything about it, pointing out the micro-print on the receipt that said sold as seen despite the verbal offering of a three month guarantee. The owner ended up fitting an '83 engine out of a crashed bike, which he reckoned was good for 80mph. Wobbles and weaves apart, but we didn't go into that.
I can't say I was sorry to see the back of the machine. Performance was pathetic for a 250 and reliability, at least on a well used example, poor. As a town commuter it was quite useful but I'll buy an MZ next time!
D.G.
****************************************************
There are only so many chances in life. When they turn up you should take them. Hence, when a mate in London phoned to say there was a good chance of gaining employment as a trainee DR, I decided to go for it. The trusty, ten year old KL250 would surely be ideal for bouncing through Central London.
Riding down to London, from Chepstow, on a sunny May weekend I was in high spirits. The 22hp thumper ran along the A-roads at 60 to 75mph, with a bit of a thrum but a nice meaty bark out of the rusty high-rise exhaust. Top speed was 80mph, too slow and boring for the M4, but throw in a few A-road bends and a mass of cages to shimmy through, and it was a whole new game.
With only 275lbs to throw around, the KL was perfectly suited to town riding. Except that when I finally hit the capital I was met with a mad frenzy of traffic and drivers who acted like they were on an awayday from the loony bin! I had to take a deep breath, hammer the throttle through the gears and join in with the madness.
Accommodation's the worst part of London life, but half a dozen DR's had grouped together to rent a house in a dingy part of Highbury and there was a room to spare. Come Monday, I hustled along to the City for the interview, coming on ultra keen and getting the job. Now I had two problems. Getting up to steam on the KL in the impossible traffic and trying to work out where I was going - my times were slow but acceptable, I was being paid so little that it didn't make much difference to the boss how quickly or slowly I worked.
When I bought the KL it had soft suspension that allowed it to waver all over the place. I soon toughened it up after a visit to the breakers for some shocks and springs. It was therefore very taut. Brilliant down the country lanes but a bit tough going over the capital's notorious pot-holes. The seat was already worn down to the base. This combination soon had my bum in agony, the only relief coming from standing on the pegs, which got me some nasty glares from the ped's.
The DR company had handed me a massive orange bib, that made me look like a giant orange. I thought, at least the cagers would see me coming if they didn't hear the defiant roar of the almost straight through exhaust. Whether they saw or heard me I don't know, but regardless they ignored my existence. I was ever thankful for the way a minor amount of muscle could twitch the Kawasaki out of harm's way.
That was the good side, the bad was the pair of SLS drum brakes. These were mild and faded heavily when used in anger a couple of times. Riding through London traffic at speed without any real brakes soon turned me into a gibbering wreck. Back at the office I bored everyone stiff with tales of crazy experiences. They'd all been there before.
The first day over, I returned home rather disenchanted. When I had my moan, the other guys came up with some goodies. K and Q seat, thick handlebar grips and an RS250 front end - what would, in a normal house, have been a dining room was a dumping ground for old bikes! The shocks had to be changed as well to match the lowered front end. A K and Q seat on a trailie looked well weird but I was assured I would feel the difference.
Didn't have time to test it out until the next day. The bike was a couple of inches lower than stock, felt really odd for the first half hour but I soon got used to it. The seat was absolutely brilliant, despite sniggers from fellow DR's. The front disc was ten times more powerful than stock. My times improved drastically and I could actually walk when I got off the bike at the end of the day.
All the continuous thrashing was already taking its toll on the mill, though. It tended to overheat and conk out after a couple of hours. It was due for an oil change, so I was a bit miffed to find that most of the oil had drained off! I also had to reset the valves - normally they'd stay within tolerances for 5000 miles.
Over the next few weeks I kept a careful eye on the engine. 200 miles would take the oil down to the minimum level and it needed the valves set every 600 miles. The vibes seemed to be getting worse, as well, and my poor old feet were going numb after a couple of hours. Despite these problems, I was soon hurtling around with the best of them, determined to graduate from learner status as soon as possible. One good point about the KL was that it cost next to nothing to run - 65mpg, 20,000 miles from the tyres, etc.
After about 4500 miles of despatching, with 29750 miles on the clock, the swinging arm bearings were shot. They may well have been original fare. I'd never greased them, or anything. This happened two-thirds of the way through the day, loaded up with urgent deliveries - like a hero I decided to ignore the loose back end. By the end of the day there was about two inches of movement at the rear wheel. The spindle was bent and the bearings broken up. I was forced to ride home at 10mph! Luckily, it was Friday, so I had the whole weekend to sort the bike out.
Despite the nice sunny weather the rest of the bike was looking well worn. Scratches and dents from when the KL had lost it all, either hitting cars or the tarmac, had sprouted rust which quickly spread to the surrounding metal. I ignored it, ended up with a hole in the petrol tank. I was very lucky to find a breaker with a good tank.
With a few months experience, I changed firms to earn some serious money as a proper DR rather than a learner. I was occasionally allowed out on one of their VT500's, which had already gone around the clock but still ran rather better than my KL, although it needed much more muscle to hustle. I decided to clean the Kawasaki up and move on to something bigger.
The weekend after I finished getting the sheen back into the KL, I crashed the VT. Or rather a car whacked into me. Broken ankle, crumpled VT. The result was that I was sacked and unable to work. These nineteenth century working conditions the downside to despatch riding.
I kept cleaning up the KL as a form of therapy. I had managed to clear a few thousand notes, so it wasn't the end of the world. When I was able to ride without nasty pains shooting up my leg, I decided to escape the coming winter by taking the KL to Spain. The Channel Tunnel was fun - all the other bikes were very expensive rep's and tourers, the tatty KL looking totally out of place.
The KL slowly meandered along the French coast, taking side routes when the urge arose. I fell in love with Nice, ended up in studio apartment and working in a bar in the night. Not much money as it was out of season but enough to live on. Marvellous food, wine and women. Couldn't think of any reason to go back to the UK.
By then the KL was up to 38000 miles. The top end was tapping away ferociously. I decided to take the head off. The valves had sunk into the cylinder head and the bore was heavily scored. Couldn't find any breakers in Nice, had to get a mate in London to post me out the bits - cheap enough but it takes a bit of effort to track them down.
The rest of the engine's okay now I've put it back together. The gearchange's always needed some art and it still vibrates, but if you don't want to go crazy on the speed side, it's more than adequate for most other needs and ideal for slashing around town with a few minor mods.
Andrew Meeson
****************************************************
There are only so many chances in life. When they turn up you should take them. Hence, when a mate in London phoned to say there was a good chance of gaining employment as a trainee DR, I decided to go for it. The trusty, ten year old KL250 would surely be ideal for bouncing through Central London.
Riding down to London, from Chepstow, on a sunny May weekend I was in high spirits. The 22hp thumper ran along the A-roads at 60 to 75mph, with a bit of a thrum but a nice meaty bark out of the rusty high-rise exhaust. Top speed was 80mph, too slow and boring for the M4, but throw in a few A-road bends and a mass of cages to shimmy through, and it was a whole new game.
With only 275lbs to throw around, the KL was perfectly suited to town riding. Except that when I finally hit the capital I was met with a mad frenzy of traffic and drivers who acted like they were on an awayday from the loony bin! I had to take a deep breath, hammer the throttle through the gears and join in with the madness.
Accommodation's the worst part of London life, but half a dozen DR's had grouped together to rent a house in a dingy part of Highbury and there was a room to spare. Come Monday, I hustled along to the City for the interview, coming on ultra keen and getting the job. Now I had two problems. Getting up to steam on the KL in the impossible traffic and trying to work out where I was going - my times were slow but acceptable, I was being paid so little that it didn't make much difference to the boss how quickly or slowly I worked.
When I bought the KL it had soft suspension that allowed it to waver all over the place. I soon toughened it up after a visit to the breakers for some shocks and springs. It was therefore very taut. Brilliant down the country lanes but a bit tough going over the capital's notorious pot-holes. The seat was already worn down to the base. This combination soon had my bum in agony, the only relief coming from standing on the pegs, which got me some nasty glares from the ped's.
The DR company had handed me a massive orange bib, that made me look like a giant orange. I thought, at least the cagers would see me coming if they didn't hear the defiant roar of the almost straight through exhaust. Whether they saw or heard me I don't know, but regardless they ignored my existence. I was ever thankful for the way a minor amount of muscle could twitch the Kawasaki out of harm's way.
That was the good side, the bad was the pair of SLS drum brakes. These were mild and faded heavily when used in anger a couple of times. Riding through London traffic at speed without any real brakes soon turned me into a gibbering wreck. Back at the office I bored everyone stiff with tales of crazy experiences. They'd all been there before.
The first day over, I returned home rather disenchanted. When I had my moan, the other guys came up with some goodies. K and Q seat, thick handlebar grips and an RS250 front end - what would, in a normal house, have been a dining room was a dumping ground for old bikes! The shocks had to be changed as well to match the lowered front end. A K and Q seat on a trailie looked well weird but I was assured I would feel the difference.
Didn't have time to test it out until the next day. The bike was a couple of inches lower than stock, felt really odd for the first half hour but I soon got used to it. The seat was absolutely brilliant, despite sniggers from fellow DR's. The front disc was ten times more powerful than stock. My times improved drastically and I could actually walk when I got off the bike at the end of the day.
All the continuous thrashing was already taking its toll on the mill, though. It tended to overheat and conk out after a couple of hours. It was due for an oil change, so I was a bit miffed to find that most of the oil had drained off! I also had to reset the valves - normally they'd stay within tolerances for 5000 miles.
Over the next few weeks I kept a careful eye on the engine. 200 miles would take the oil down to the minimum level and it needed the valves set every 600 miles. The vibes seemed to be getting worse, as well, and my poor old feet were going numb after a couple of hours. Despite these problems, I was soon hurtling around with the best of them, determined to graduate from learner status as soon as possible. One good point about the KL was that it cost next to nothing to run - 65mpg, 20,000 miles from the tyres, etc.
After about 4500 miles of despatching, with 29750 miles on the clock, the swinging arm bearings were shot. They may well have been original fare. I'd never greased them, or anything. This happened two-thirds of the way through the day, loaded up with urgent deliveries - like a hero I decided to ignore the loose back end. By the end of the day there was about two inches of movement at the rear wheel. The spindle was bent and the bearings broken up. I was forced to ride home at 10mph! Luckily, it was Friday, so I had the whole weekend to sort the bike out.
Despite the nice sunny weather the rest of the bike was looking well worn. Scratches and dents from when the KL had lost it all, either hitting cars or the tarmac, had sprouted rust which quickly spread to the surrounding metal. I ignored it, ended up with a hole in the petrol tank. I was very lucky to find a breaker with a good tank.
With a few months experience, I changed firms to earn some serious money as a proper DR rather than a learner. I was occasionally allowed out on one of their VT500's, which had already gone around the clock but still ran rather better than my KL, although it needed much more muscle to hustle. I decided to clean the Kawasaki up and move on to something bigger.
The weekend after I finished getting the sheen back into the KL, I crashed the VT. Or rather a car whacked into me. Broken ankle, crumpled VT. The result was that I was sacked and unable to work. These nineteenth century working conditions the downside to despatch riding.
I kept cleaning up the KL as a form of therapy. I had managed to clear a few thousand notes, so it wasn't the end of the world. When I was able to ride without nasty pains shooting up my leg, I decided to escape the coming winter by taking the KL to Spain. The Channel Tunnel was fun - all the other bikes were very expensive rep's and tourers, the tatty KL looking totally out of place.
The KL slowly meandered along the French coast, taking side routes when the urge arose. I fell in love with Nice, ended up in studio apartment and working in a bar in the night. Not much money as it was out of season but enough to live on. Marvellous food, wine and women. Couldn't think of any reason to go back to the UK.
By then the KL was up to 38000 miles. The top end was tapping away ferociously. I decided to take the head off. The valves had sunk into the cylinder head and the bore was heavily scored. Couldn't find any breakers in Nice, had to get a mate in London to post me out the bits - cheap enough but it takes a bit of effort to track them down.
The rest of the engine's okay now I've put it back together. The gearchange's always needed some art and it still vibrates, but if you don't want to go crazy on the speed side, it's more than adequate for most other needs and ideal for slashing around town with a few minor mods.
Andrew Meeson