After an expensive and somewhat frightening experience with a BMW K100, mostly down to the fact that the previous owner had crashed it badly and repaired it poorly, I was determined to find a Japanese bike but not forsake the comfort I had become used to on the BMW. I did not have to look far, as it happens, in the local paper there was a six month old, 5000 mile, 1988 Kawasaki GTR1000.
I had been aware of this machine but had not looked at it in any great detail. I knew that it had a typical Kawasaki across the frame four with a surplus of valves, camshafts and electronic trickery. On inspection of the machine I was a little disconcerted to see that in addition to the huge radiator there was an oil cooler, but the machine was in perfect condition with a fsh and an owner who could only be months off OAP status.
He took me for a blast on the back and then let me have a go on a bit of deserted country road. I wanted it! It was the end of September so I knew few people would be interested in buying a motorcycle at that time of year. I made him a really silly offer, we haggled and agreed on a sum that represented a huge discount off the new price and slightly more than the local dealer would give him. I don't think he was as happy as I was at the conclusion of the deal, but there you go.
After the K100 the bike felt smoother but lacked the immediate torque of the Bavarian wonder. At 570lbs the GTR is a bit of a handful at low speeds, but then so was the BMW, and trying to push the machine backwards was likely to result in a hernia. Where the K feels relaxed the GTR wants you to rev it, the engine only really feels like it's on cam with over 5000 revs on the tacho. However, the shaft drive is smoother and less intrusive than on the Brick, the six speed transmission is snatch free and there's little of the rising back end on take off.
I also quickly became aware that the suspension whilst not sports hard did not plunge and dive like on the K. The whole process of braking was so much easier and more civilised on the Japanese bike that I began to wonder how I could have put up with the German machine. I had become so used to setting bikes up for corners well in advance that I was amazed by the way the heavy Kawasaki was able to change direction suddenly in bends. To be fair to the BMW, its chassis was not as straight as it should have been, so final judgement must be reserved.
I found the GTR's full fairing perfect for my 5'9" frame. The screen was at just the right height to throw the air over my head whilst still letting me peer over the top in bad weather. Hand protection could be slightly better, but if the fairing was any wider it would interfere with the ability to dodge through narrow gaps in traffic. When I rode the bike home it started to pour down; I survived the experience with slight dampness to my jeans. I was later to find its protection made travel in the depths of winter an enjoyable enterprise.
A few days after buying the bike I set out for a motorway trek up from London to Scotland. The Kawasaki is claimed to be a tourer, but it produces 110hp at 9500rpm and gives arm wrenching, neck snapping acceleration if you open her up in the lower gears. It cruised so easily at 90mph that I thought the speedo was inaccurate but as I was able to sit in the fast lane without being flashed it must have been about right.
Comfortable behind that fairing, I opened her up a bit more, 110, 120mph......vibes started to buzz the GRP and footpegs.....130mph made those vibes come in even worse and what had been a very stable ride turned into quite a strong weave that felt like riding a bike with worn tyres on a white line. A few thoughts about what the bitumen would do to my body persuaded me to back off to 110mph, where the bike felt smooth, stable and comfortable.
Even when I later made it on to the German autobahns, the combination of vibes and weaves stopped me from trying to find its real top speed. I very rarely ventured above 120mph, if the truth be told, but anything below that was dead easy to maintain. The only faults the bike has as a high speed tourer were a seat that turned rock hard after 250 miles and fuel consumption that was more in the two stroke class - 30mpg at a sustained 120mph did not impress me very much, the range of the six gallon tank was effectively only 150 miles before panic set in. Around town and at more moderate highway speeds, the bike would return anywhere between 35 and 50mpg. Probably down to the sheer bulk of the machine, added to when I filled up the panniers, added a pillion and a load of camping gear - a mode the bike was most commonly used in.
Another consumable that wore quickly were the tyres. The bike came with a new set of Metzelers, a 110/80V18 ME33 front and 150/80V16 ME99 rear. These gave excellent grip wet or dry but only lasted for 3000 miles before they were both worn out. As I have done 3000 miles over a long weekend this did not impress me. I put on a set of Avon radials which were fitted free and available at a large discount locally.
Initially, I found they made the bike feel a bit twitchy but they did seem to damp down the high speed weave a bit. In the wet they appeared well dodgy but when I realised that they only slid a small amount and weren't going to ditch me on to the hard tarmac I got used to them. They at least allowed me to do a 5000 mile tour without worrying about replacing tyres. The rear lasted just under 6000 miles, the front 7250 miles. I thereafter kept with the Avons which seem to have got better still lately.
I rode the bike through the winter months happily enough, my only concern was that the finish was not holding up well. White corrosion broke out on the wheels and needed an inordinate amount of elbow grease to clean up. Splotches of rust appeared on the silencers, parts of the frame and the upper part of the forks. It needed a jetwash every week to keep the dreaded rust at bay, although the paint finish on the tank and GRP was of BMW quality.
Another annoying design feature was the position of the mirrors. These are an integral design feature of the fairing in so far as they are supposed to provide hand protection as well as tell you what's going on behind. Unfortunately, both mirrors are mounted too low to easily glance at and leave a massive blind spot just behind the bike on each side. I frightened myself several times when I tried to manoeuvre the bike into the bumper of a car I had not seen in the mirrors. I soon went back to looking over my shoudler to check what was actually there.
I've had the bike for three years now and have fallen in love with it. It has taken me so many miles with so few problems that I can't really complain. With 65000 miles done so far the engine has not suffered from any interference from human hand save for a regular 5000 mile dealer service and my own 1650 mile oil change. I have taken some sensible preventative measures such as removal of all spindles and application of expensive grease - no wonder Uni-Trac's linkages fail, they seem to have no grease in them.
The original rear shock is still there with the air and damping settings turned up to the highest possible. The same goes for the front forks which have the added benefit of gaiters and are still on the original seals. The bike still feels taut in comparison with a BMW but in the last 5000 miles a bit of a weave comes in at 110mph, so I shall have to check the bearings soon or replace the rear shock.
Copaslip has been applied to stripped calipers every time the pads have been changed (every 10,000 miles, I don't use the brakes like a racer, too many BMWs in my past for that), thus avoiding any potential nastiness in that area. At 25000 miles the front brakes went spongy but this was cured with new brake fluid and a set of Goodridge hose. Scientific Coating's protective liquid has been applied to all surfaces and seems to repel water and dirt rather than attract it. I've since saved a fortune in Solvol tubes.
I have seen GTRs that have done over 100,000 miles so I think they must be robust machines or perhaps it's just the type of owners they attract. There are some nice low mileage ones around and I am tempted to trade in my machine for a newer one, but then I think how well it's served me so far and put the idea out of my head; I'd much rather spend the money travelling on the bike.
Julian Newman
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After an unfortunate experience with a R60 BMW, I was more than willing to consider Japanese machinery again. It had to be big (because so was I), faired and preferably fast. I flicked through various magazines but my attention was diverted by an advert for a Kawasaki GTR1000 in the local paper. The price was reasonable and the mileage low.
It turned out to be a blue 1989 example with only 9000 miles under its wheels. The only sign of wear and tear was heavily corroded wheels. The owner reckoned they were impossible to keep clean. He also complained bitterly about the insurance rises that were forcing him to sell. The dealer had offered him £1750 and he reluctantly accepted two grand off me.
What I'd bought was a watercooled four cylinder motor, a detuned version of the 1000RX which still managed a hundred horses. The fairing was just as protective as a BMW RT and it had a shaft drive that was much less intrusive than the thoroughly nasty item fitted to the R60.
Mass was getting on close to 600lbs but the upright riding position helped direct the beast. Admittedly, initial impressions were of a tank-like heaviness and the need to leave an extra few inches each side of the bike when heading through the narrower gaps. The suspension was rather severe but the seat very pliant and comfortable, the riding position even more natural than on the R60.
These impressions faded with time, as the machine and myself grew into each others ways. What's stayed in my mind is the marvellous grunt of the engine. I've never come across another Japanese four that has so much midrange power, from 3000 revs onwards it really flies even in sixth gear. Once on the open road I rarely bothered changing down, just used the throttle to power ever onwards. A much more relaxed and easy going ride than the old boxer, which seemed to spend most of its time grumbling and shuddering.
The gearbox on the GTR went off a bit as the miles were clocked up, but never approached the sheer horror and frustration of the R60's agricultural delinquency. It was okay up to 20,000 miles but thereafter there were lots of false neutrals, a sign of worn selectors. Providentially, changes were clean under acceleration, saving the valves from 15000rpm sessions.
The shaft drive only intruded when I slammed the throttle shut if I needed to lose speed in bends. There was no way I was going to chance the powerful front discs when banked over. The back wheel lurched around and over heavy bumps the bike did a reasonable impression of a rocking horse. The GTR had a BMW-like need to be set up on its line in advance and gently accelerated through a curve.
My initial impression of the front brake was of fearsome power, with a smoking tyre and shaking forks. It was soon apparent that the full power grip on the brake lever, my hand toughened up on countless drum braked old Hondas, was totally out of place on the sophisticated Kawasaki. A two or three finger caress stopped me soiling my pants and saved the front rubber from premature extinction. Brake pads went for a moderate 10,000 miles and the calipers resisted corrosion despite hard use in two winters.
Such was the fairing's protection that I was quite happy to keep running the bike right through the winter. Normal waterproofs, boots and gloves were all that were necessary to keep warm. There was a downside to having such a large lump of plastic out front - side winds knocked the bike about a bit and above 110mph the front end felt very nervous. On wet roads it gave the impression that it was about to aquaplane but otherwise the protection from the rain was excellent.
There was little I could do for the wheels when it rained. It was a bit worrying to see that such cheap aluminium alloy was used in these essential components. Tyres lasted for about 6000 miles and it was dead easy to chip the rims when they were changed. Anyone who finds a GTR with good wheels would be best advised to paint them straight away!
The rear caliper was short-lived as well. The brake was never so good as to inspire much use, this neglect may have contributed to the way the pistons seized up. I left it like that for a few thousand miles which made the subsequent attempt at stripping down a complete waste of time. A secondhand caliper was secured from the breakers eventually, GTR's quite rare in salvage yards.
With about 25000 miles done there was a lot of banging in the exhaust system. I immediately assumed that the 16 valves were burning out, but the mechanic reckoned they were all still well within adjustment - the relatively low state of tune and consequent lack of thrashing meant that not much servicing was required. The cause of the backfiring was the exhaust rotting away.
The local Kawasaki dealer could barely conceal his glee, was already booking his winter holiday.... over 700 quid! I ruined his day by walking out on him. £125 for a welding set, and some old sheet metal was deployed on to the dismembered system which had holes in the collector and underside of the silencers. Most of the baffles fell out when I hit the ends of the silencers on the tarmac. The reassembled exhaust was a bit noisier but the banging had gone. 11,000 miles later I had to repeat the experience, in some areas I replaced all the original metal!
Pulling off the fairing that time dislocated some wires, leading to blowing bulbs until I'd gone to all the hassle of tearing the plastic off the second time. The lights and switches were as good as any other fitted to a motorcycle. The long distance comfort and protection were better than most if not all other machines.
The bike was so good that it inspired me to do two months Continental touring. About 10,000 miles in all, that required nothing more than putting loads of petrol in the tank and doing the occasional oil change. Fuel consumption was high at 35 to 40mpg but the big six gallon fuel tank ensured a reasonable range. Comfort was okay for 300 to 350 miles before my backside began to scream. That was good going for me, I was usually complaining after a mere 100 miles on most bikes.
There was quite a lot of adjustment from the strong front forks and Uni-track rear end but after 30,000 miles they were barely adequate when turned up to their highest settings. It was never as soft as a BMW but still managed to soak up most of the road bumps. A newish shock was acquired for a giveaway £25 and new Uni-track bearings installed at 35000 miles. Thus equipped the GTR felt much more assured.
There's so much mass that any weakness in the chassis can easily be amplified out of all proportion when riding hard. All you have to do to experience a speed wobble, for instance, is put a new Avon out front and leave a worn out Metzeler on the back! It would also go way out of line if run on bald tyres - stupid, I know, but there were occasions when I ran out of cash. Not all GTR owners are rich yuppies!
I occasionally joined a pack of such types on faired BMW bricks. The GTR was well able to keep up with the Teutonic hordes, could quite happily take them in corners. They may've had a touch higher top speed than the Kawasaki's 125mph but on UK roads there were few opportunities for them to use such excessive velocities. Fuel, pad and tyre wear were similar and I could see little reason to trade the GTR.
Apart from corrosion (it also attacked the frame but that was fortunately hidden under the plastic), the GTR turned out to be very tough, doing 67000 miles without even rattling its camchain even though it wasn't lavished with an excess of tender loving care. A combination of an easy life in the hands of the first owner, modern technology and no need to go above 9000 revs.
I was able to sell the bike for £2000 without any trouble, which gave me two years hard use without any depreciation. There are lots of low mileage examples around for £2500 to £3000 if you're old enough to afford the insurance. Corrosion is their one big failure, so much so that I went for a newish BMW R1100RS - much more sophisticated than the old boxers and great quality.
Lance Jennings
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There it was. Another dead bike. The list was looking quite impressive and growing fast. CBX550, CBR600, XJ750 and now my KLR600. All in just two years. I use the bike for work (just 20 miles each way) and this must take its toll even with regular oil changes. The journey involves ton-up cruising for about twelve miles, then stop-start town riding for the remainder. In the winter, chains suffer particularly. Even with regular maintenance, a chain life of 2000 miles was the norm.
The KLR had a good excuse for giving up on me this time - it had just returned from a 4000 mile thrash around Europe. And now I was planning to go touring around France. I saw a GTR in the local rag...I didn't know much about them and admit I'd never even thought about buying one. I knew they were a bit peaky for a tourer and were notoriously heavy.
For the uninitiated, the GTR1000's a shaft drive BMW-esque tourer with a tubular frame and a detuned GPZ1000RX Eliminator motor (which explains the peakiness). The GTR didn't sell well from new because someone wanting a BMW generally bought a BMW - consequently the big Kawasakis were not particularly common.
The advertised bike seemed great, though. A 1988 model for twelve hundred notes - that was about half book price. Okay, so it had been despatched and had a high mileage (about 90,000 miles) but I decided to go to see it. The bloke on the phone seemed straight. He had replaced the bike with another GTR, and wouldn't accept any offers as it was well worth what he was asking.
When I got to his house, the bike didn't look bad. He pointed out that it was not immaculate. The mirrors were broken, the front tyre iffy and the seat was taped up. There was also a slight oil leak from the water pump, but there was loads of metal for the money. It came with a bloody great fairing and hard panniers as standard fittings, and after experiences with stolen, torn or melted throwovers, the panniers seemed like a damn good idea. Other equipment included little pockets in the fairing, a fuel gauge and clock. These are the kind of things that I never expected to need but now find indispensable. They are genuinely useful.
First ride on the bike was an education. I hardly noticed the shaft, infinitely better than the badly adjusted chains that usually blessed my bikes (only fair weather poseurs and those with new bikes have properly adjusted and lubricated chains). It was heavy, though I thought that a big bike would be no problem. After all, I'd been riding reasonably sized bikes for over a decade, but the weight of the GTR's all up top, and with panniers the bike felt as wide as an Alvis Stalwart (what? - Ed).
I found the bike a little intimidating but it went okay and didn't look bad so I paid the man the money. I don't want to cast aspirations on his character but as well as being a despatcher, he had an EXUP in the garage for fun and reckoned that the GTR wasn't so bad either: 'With cheapo tyres it's real fun at roundabouts, you can drift the back end right out!' I was sceptical until he showed me the footpegs, both were worn down a good inch. And that front tyre was testimony to a good thrashing.
Somewhat prophetically, the thirty mile ride home was in torrential rain and I learnt two fundamental lessons about the bike. Firstly, the engine braking was something else, if I let go of the throttle carelessly on a wet road at speed, even in top, the back wheel would squirm all over the place. The second was that the fairing caused terrible turbulence - I would be far more comfortable on a naked bike since I could cope with the blast but not the impression that I was in a pillow fight with Frank Bruno. It must be said I didn't get wet, though, so the plastic had its uses.
After a couple of days the weather improved and I thought that I would see what it would do. The answer was about 130mph, maybe more if you were feeling brave but, believe me, you had to be. It was frightening. The bike needed both lanes of the dual carriageway as it weaved and wandered about. Even now with new Metz's and the suspension set up, there's a marked weave about the ton-twenty, although it can at least be ridden to the one-forty max.
The local bike shop blames the weave on the fairing, says it can't be cured. I'm inclined to agree. The fairing is useful but does have other shortcomings - the main one being the mirrors. They work normally but fold back at speed. On the other hand, when the bike falls off the stand (not uncommon if you can imagine trying to balance an ostrich egg on a cocktail stick) or if you happen to clip a truck they don't fold but break straight away. An expensive repair at over fifty quid each.
After I had owned the bike for about six months, summer arrived and I got itchy feet. The previous year I had travelled around Europe to Austria on my KLR, returning happy but bikeless. This year I had more room which was just as well when my girlfriend appeared on the doorstep with three rucksacks. The final decision to take the bike abroad was when the price of the last minute bargain holidays went through the roof during August.
So, we planned to go to the South of France, tour around the vineyards instead. Two rucksacks lighter but still carrying more than your average three tonner, we left. The trip started well enough but on the first day in Europe I was beginning to wonder about taking a pillion. She was uncomfortable, very hot and didn't want to ride for longer than a couple of hours without an hour's break.
We managed the 400 miles to the campsite which we had booked, but it took all day. It looked like the daily limit would have to be below 400 miles. This was frustrating as I had managed 1200 mile days on the KLR (which was a damn sight slower). It soon became evident, however, that the problem was in fact, an almighty hangover from the ferry and an inability to stay awake in 40 degrees centigrade heat. But we made it down there, every time I felt her helmet hit the back of mine we'd stop for another cup of hallucinogenically strong coffee.
From then on things were fine. The bike was fairly comfortable but extremely heavy. Whilst in Bergerac it fell off its sidestand. This wouldn't have been so bad had I not been standing beside the bike reading a map. Before I knew what was happening, I had several hundred kilo's of bike pinning me down by my foot. The agony was made worse by the fact that my girlfriend couldn't lift the bike. Not a surprise as I can hardly lift the thing and I weigh in at over twelve and a half stone. Her tenacity paid off, though, and miraculously she managed to move it enough to free my foot, the only damage being a wicked bruise and a broken pannier mounting.
The next day it was her turn - exhausts get damn hot in French summers and it takes a while to feel them burning through a carelessly placed limb. Although the bike was a handful, only just failing in its attempts at jettisoning us on the roughest roads and intent on giving me heat rashes from the right-hand radiator outlet, it kept going. With baguettes and other groceries protruding from every orifice in a typically French manner (what a terrible thought) it never missed a beat and covered between 200 and 300 miles on a tank.
We made it all the way down the West Coast to the Pyrenees, stopping at Bordeux and Bergerac wine regions, and returned via the Loire Valley vineyards with a small tour of Brittany and Normandy. We arrived back in England two weeks later complete with nearly a dozen bottles and half a rucksack. I weighed the luggage. What was already a heavy bike (at about 600lbs with half a tank) was carrying a further 600lbs in humans and luggage. About half a ton in total which I think is pretty impressive. The only slight casualty (apart from my foot and my girlfriend's luggage) was a rear tyre which exhibited a peculiar wear pattern. We had covered over 2000 miles with all the gear necessary for a couple of weeks comfortable camping on a bike costing just over a grand. Bloody good I reckon.
Of course, the bike does have its drawbacks, the main one being the size and weight. It is in the same class as the biggest Harleys, BMWs and Goldwings but the centre of gravity seems a lot higher. Those pussies who moan about the current Triumphs wouldn't stand a chance and it makes the CBR1000 and ZZR1100 feel like toys, albeit fast ones.
The brakes are a bit weak and the pads can fall out if they get low when combined with worn discs (the discs crack as well). The calipers, in common with most Jap stuff, seize and make the bike a real handful to push backwards out of the drive (carry a hammer) and the stands are both a bit dodgy - the bike has to be parked very carefully and preferably not in front of large crowds of people (I have been known to drop it in front of packed pubs, to my immense embarrassment). You can't really wheelie it, cornering is leisurely or dangerous, and posing around town is best forgotten, Let's be honest, the bike is pretty boring to look at and ride.
The thing is I needed the bike to get me to work and back. I also wanted to use it for touring. It has done both very well for the last nine months, returning up to 60mpg on a run; about 40mpg if thrashed. It hasn't let me down in over 8000 miles except for a misfire from a deteriorating lead and a leak from the fuel tap diaphragm. I got home both times and total repairs cost under a fiver.
The bike's also plenty quick enough. From a standing start at the bottom of a slip road you can hit one-twenty before joining the local dual carriageway. This is enough to embarrass sports four hundreds or bigger, and it has done so before.
It's not that much fun to ride but hasn't been added to my obituary list yet and proudly disproves three assumptions - that high mileages bikes, thrashed bikes and ex-DR hacks should be avoided. They can, in fact, be real bargains as long as they are maintained properly. In many cases despatchers look after bikes as well as enthusiasts - after all, their job depends on them. If the money's right don't be scared off; just be a bit careful. And if you buy a GTR watch that sidestand and be ready to run.
Mike Leahy
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The GTR wasn't my first choice of motorcycle, but a 50,000 miler turned up for £995. The grey paint was a bit faded but it was all there, including two large panniers. Despite its 1000cc four cylinder engine, it needed loads of throttle to shift. The handling was what you'd expect from close on 600lbs of metal and plastic, not helped along any by the worn out suspension.
It was the latter, rather than any incompetence on my part, that led to the first crash. I was rushing to get to work along a bumpy old A-road, thrusting the GTR into a gap between cars when the front end started to wobble. There was only a couple of inches clearance on each side of the fairing, the wild wobble battering us against a Ford Orion. In fact, the bike became wedged between the cars at about 40mph, doing a huge amount of damage to the cages and ripping the Kawasaki's plastic to shreds.
I narrowly avoided having my legs torn off but didn't actually fall off! When we all pulled over, the poor old cagers were in tears with all the damage done to their auto's and I just stood there saying sorry, sorry, and shaking like a malaria victim. I managed to tear off all the damaged plastic, continued on my journey at much reduced velocities. I'd had to lie about my name and address as I hadn't got around to insuring the beast.
An half naked GTR's one of the ugliest motorcycles on earth. Ped's stood aghast, gawped with open mouths and even occasionally shook their firsts at me. Okay, the odd bit of plastic spat off as I was wobbling along, lacerating them like some weapon out of a martial art's catalogue; but a boy's gotta do what a boy's gotta do.
Two weeks later I'd tired of constant police chases and snapped up the various panels from the local breaker. Black instead of grey, so I had go over the cycle parts with some black paint to make it all match up. I'd also finally sorted out the insurance - at 45 not that horrendous for TPF&T.
The bike seemed to handle better without the plastic, though the cold October winds didn't go down very well. The GTR's swathe of plastic gives excellent protection, allowing me to wear lightweight gear even in the depths of winter. Unfortunately, it gave every impression of not going anywhere near a wind tunnel, being chucked all over the road when attacked by sidewinds and threatening to go out of control every time I tried to shove the speedo past the ton.
Of course, the Avons were well shagged, so I bunged on some slightly used Metz's from the breaker, who told me I was wasting my time and money - there was nothing that could be done to make GTR's handle. He was right, every time I went over the ton the thing went into a shaking fit, coming from both ends.
I didn't think Kawasaki had meant it to be so naff, went over the cycle parts. The steering stem seemed a touch loose, tightened it down. A brick dropping speed wobble at 80 resulted, the damn thing ran out of tarmac and attacked a hedge that ran along the side of the road. This time I came off, landed on my head in a bog! No damage done but you should have seen the state of my upper body - drenched in shit; a fetish's dream but my nightmare.
The GTR had destroyed a good 100 yards of ancient hedgerow, probably killed off a couple of plant species. A large crack ran down the side of one fairing, the paint was ruined and one mirror had been torn off. It turned out that the forks were slightly twisted - they may have gone in the previous shunt or even before I bought the bike.
Anyway, the steering was completely wrecked, barely controllable at 50mph! I got some curious glares from the ped's back in town, what with the front end snapping back and forth whilst I was encrusted in mud. When I took it all apart I found out the steering head bearings were pitted and oval shaped and full of rust. Not greased since new, I'd guess. I had the forks sorted by a specialist and knocked in new bearings.
That was a lot better, the bike a whole deal calmer, stable up to 120mph. Only hassle was that every time I went towards the redline the vibes came in awfully fierce; hands and feet shaking away. When I looked the engine over - I had to take the fairing off to repair it, right? - the valve clearances were miles out and the oil looked rather murky. Sorted that out but it still vibrated in a primeval way.
The easy way out was not to rev it hard, when it was acceptably smooth, but unless maximum revs were used it was as slow as a GT750. This is the GTR's biggest flaw - tourers are supposed to be laid back and relaxing but unless the Kawa's thrashed it doesn't get anywhere fast.
With the winter it wasn't so bad. I couldn't use max revs because the back tyre would skid off the road under that kind of power onslaught. A lot of the excessive mass was top heavy, so once it went it wouldn't be easy to pull back. I found this out the hard way on a patch of black ice. One moment I was basking in the protection of the plastic, thinking myself a clever chappie to be riding a bike like the GTR through the winter, the next moment we were going horizontal.
By then I'd become wise to the bike's inclinations, was wearing full leathers and body armour, so damage to my limbs was limited to a couple of bruises. The bike slid on its fairing, splitting where I'd repaired it and tearing a huge strip of plastic out.
Someone up there didn't like me, the hole in the fairing funnelled up a howling gale that froze me solid within minutes. I had no choice but to do some quick patching with GRP that night. Later, I went over the repair with very smooth GRP matting and a sander, made a half decent job of it.
The bike hustled through the winter and early spring months without any more incidents. The only depressing thing was the 30mpg lack of economy, no better than when I thrashed the engine into the vibro-massage zone. The other thing was that everything made out of metal corroded really badly. Ride a GTR every day through a winter and you'll turn it into a prime rat. It didn't want to clean up, either, I've seen more give on barnacles encrusted on wrecked ships.
In the first week of April I'd had enough. I was in one of those moods when you couldn't give a damn. When I hurtled past a car, staying on the right side of the road, I was suddenly confronted with a Transit coming straight at me. I refused to give way, flashed the thug with the lights, held my ground. For one awful moment I thought he was too removed from reality to admit my existence, but at the last instant he swerved into a gap on his side of the road. Too late, though, the GTR scraped along the side of the van at about 50mph. The fairing snagged, pulled the bike right around into the side of the car I'd just overtaken. Talk about taking it at both ends. I did a funny-walk off the bike and into the hard tarmac. 600lbs of GTR flew through air, impacted on the front of another cage. My head was mere millimetres away from being crushed by a car. Eventually, everything slowed down enough for me get upright. The GTR was beyond hope and the pile-up stretched back up the road...thank god for insurance!
P. Phillips