The bike was an S reg Suzuki A100, a purple one in nice order for £100, so after a little bargaining I got an oversized helmet as well for £95. Being my second ever bike, and as well as only being 17 at the time, the fact that the rear tyre was a knobby did not really bother me. The seller said it would do 55-60mph which was impressive enough after a knackered C70 to clinch the deal.
The journey home was quite slow to start with as I had rarely encountered such high technology stuff as a four speed box or a clutch. Getting her out on to proper roads I couldn't try out the bike as it was pretty dark and I was unsure about handling such a powerful machine. The six volt electrics meant the light could only be described as crap, sometimes it was necessary to follow the white line in the middle of the road.
The next morning armed with no knowledge whatsoever about two stroke bikes, except to shove the funny green oil into a bottle under the sidepanel and petrol in the tank, I looked the machine over. The front SLS drum was of tiny proportions and predictably terrible, but the back was acceptable for the size and power of the machine. The front tyre was a Conti which did not match the rear at all, but the latter had been necessary, according to the previous owner, because he could not find one of the correct size - more likely he had been given it.
The bike started first or second kick, as it did invariably the whole of the time I had it. If not fast, it was extremely reliable for an eight year old bike. With confidence I looked forward to the couple of miles to work every morning. It started without fail on the most freezing and wettest days. I never did any routine maintenance except for greasing the chain. The bike would only do 45mph, so the carb was dismantled, the grime removed and the jets cleaned out. It would still only do 45mph. Next the cylinder head was removed. One of the nuts was seized on its stud, the stud snapped off halfway along its thread!
The combustion chamber had eight years worth of carbon on it, so this was scraped off. To get the head back on, the offending stud was screwed out - using mole-grips - a little to get the thread proud of the head, and the head put back on as tight as it would go, no torque wrench here. In this operation the gasket was still intact when we took the cylinder head off, so a new one wasn't used. I went to the local motorcycle shop next day and ordered a couple of studs for the cylinder head - he said they would take a couple of weeks as he would have to send away for them.
About a month or so later I cancelled the order, the bike ran fine without them. I never really needed any parts for it, but if I had there would have been plenty of spares in scrap yards, and hopefully GP100 or 125 parts could be used in some areas.
As I was working away from home there was the problem of getting the bike from Yorkshire to Ayrshire, the alternatives were to put it and myself on a train, preferably straight through to Edinburgh, change to a Glasgow train, get off there, go to another station to get a train home. So, I decided to ride it home instead and go back for my bags later.
Off I set one cold dark December morning on my 270 mile journey, with a tank full of petrol, a bottle full of two stroke and a stomach full of butterflies. With disposable giant gloves over old leather ones, and another pair of plastic glove arms cut to cover my shoes and ankles. With two pairs of trousers, two jackets and many layers of clothes against the cold.
The trip took me seven hours, with many stops to get some circulation into my backside. With the disposable gloves over the leather ones, my hands weren't cold in the slightest. I rode all the way at 50mph, the top speed. It was a tough little engine and gave no trouble at all. One day, I forgot to put in the two stroke oil. The bike seized doing about 30-40mph. I wondered why it had all gone quiet down below and the back wheel locked. I luckily pulled in the clutch and saved myself a couple of days of removing gravel from my hands and knees. Cautiously I started it back up and rode a mile to my home, the engine made a lot more noise now.
I sold the bike soon after for £60 as I was needing the cash to buy a KH100, a bike that is very like the A100, a modern equivalent in respect of handling and general good value.
David McCluskey
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A year of boring car driving had passed before I set off to college to learn how to be a pompous student with no money. I decided that a little bike would be useful and saw a bargain in the paper that week - Suzuki A100, vgc £120. I went and had a look and saw a scaled up version of the AP50 that I had owned previously. I had a little go on it and decided it was worth having.
I arrived home on the bike thoroughly miffed off. The Suzuki wouldn't top 45mph. I was swearing at and kicking the thing when by dad suggested a decoke might be in order. A new gasket set and baffle later, the bike managed sixty on the flat. I went for a burn down my favourite hill and saw seventy on the speedo. I was nearly crapping myself, though, as things were falling off all around me.
I had nearly a year's riding out of it with nothing except a bit of oil every now and then, and the occasional two pounds worth of petrol which lasted for miles. The only thing that needed replacing was a clutch cable, and even that was cheap. I just revved it to its limit everywhere and had a good time.
Tyre wear seemed minimal, ditto for the chain. Fuel consumption varied between 70 and 90mph depending on how the throttle was abused. The only thing to watch was the oil level, which would plunge dramatically if you thrashed the machine long and hard, a tiny container lived under the sidecover.
Ground clearance was incredible - the first thing to hit the ground being the handlebars. I only used to dislike the bike when I came to a long straight and just had to sit there and wait until I got to the other end. Of course, it had rudimentary suspension, a pressed steel frame and very little weight, so it got thrown all over the place when riding fast over even slightly bumpy roads, but it always responded to a bit of direction at the handlebars. Going back to an A100 after the luxury of a modern middleweight would probably reveal how crude its ride was but at the time I knew no better so made no complaint.
After eight or nine months on it I decided I was rich enough to take my bike test. I passed both parts first time within three weeks of making the decision - the A100 was an ideal learner mount, at the lower revs it was as docile as a neutered cat, was so light and manoeuvrable that the cones were a moment's laugh and had a pair of SLS drum brakes so gentle that only a moron would lock up both wheels in the emergency stop. It's also the kind of bike that looks safe, so testers assume you're a responsible human being rather than a young hoodlum.
After the test with motorcycle lust in my heart I started looking for a bigger bike and the only way I could afford one was to tart up the A100 to sell for a reasonable price. I took the whole thing apart, resprayed everything and polished the metal bits, put it back together and sold it for £150. I then went on to bigger, but not necessarily better things, which we won't talk about.....these days I have a CBX1000 which does over twice the speed of the 100, produces about nine times the power, weighs four times as much and costs about ten times as much to insure, run and maintain. I'm seriously considering another little bike as an alternative.
B.J.
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I know people who can blow eighty quid in a day, end up with sod all that's useful. Not me. For that sum of money I ended up with a running Suzuki A100. 1971 vintage in a very faded blue but I thought its shape, despite having a pressed steel spine frame, was rather neat.
The engine was a 99cc single cylinder stroker. After I put a new spark plug in, starting was a first kick affair that needed hardly any effort. It required a new spark plug every 4000 miles, but this was dead easy as the cylinder head was so accessible. The four speed gearbox was as smooth as the clutch was light and progressive, even though the clock read 39000 miles.
The history of the bike was mildly interesting. The first 18 years in the hands of an old man who used it for commuting and the next two as a learner by my spotty cousin who seemed proud that he had never done anything more than put oil in the tank.
The engine is a very tough unit, though, and seems to withstand massive abuse. I found that my bike would do no more than 40mph, higher speeds just left the mill gasping for breath. Pulling out the easily extracted air-filter revealed twenty years worth of accumulated air pollution and grit. I hope that my lungs are not in the same state.
Trying to buy a new air-filter from the local Suzuki dealer revealed that the lad behind the desk was some kind of mental retard. He went from gobsmacked wonder that such an ancient Suzuki could still be on the road to outrage that I should expect to buy a replacement part from him. I left him chortling to himself, wondering if I should phone an ambulance for him. Halfords didn't have anything that looked like it might fit, so I cut the old one open, cleaned it out the best that I could. After taping and gluing it back together I knocked a few strategic holes in it for good measure.
I already knew that the motor wouldn't start without the filter. Everything reassembled, the bike could be pushed to 50mph on the clock on the flat. With a following wind and favourable downwards descent the clock flickered between 55 and 60mph before going wild, leaping back and forth between its stops before ceasing all motion. It was obviously trying to tell me something.
The speedo cable was broken. I didn't bother with the dealers this time, hit the breaker who had a huge box full of ancient cables. A similar one cost all of £1! I greased it up before fitting it. Whilst in the breakers I bought a length of newish chain and a horn. The A100 has a fully enclosed chain, which means it lasts for years but rarely has much attention. I could hear mine flapping around, it had run dry, corroded up with an excess of flat spots. The old horn was dead, the new one gave a far from startling squeak; damnable six volt electrics.
The new chain made the gearbox even slicker and removed a fierce vibration that used to intrude at 30mph; it also made the bike seem several degrees quieter. The silencer was mottled with rust, missing its baffle but resisted ultimate destruction due to the constant pale mist of burnt oil.
Judging by the layers of carbon on the piston and head when I took it apart, I don't think that the engine or exhaust had ever had a decoke. It was quite hard work to remove all the carbon and polish everything up to a shine that allowed me to see my reflection. The silencer was filled with caustic soda then attacked with a blow torch, great lumps of carbon falling out when I bashed it on the ground. I used the old gaskets with a bit of goo, took great care torquing down the head bolts. There's always the chance with old Japanese alloy of stripping the threads.
The bike actually sounded louder, due to the freer flowing silencer, and went a bit faster, putting 60mph on the clock without too much effort. I found that there was no drop off in performance over time when decent quality, modern two-stroke oil was employed....I would not have been surprised if cheapo 20/50 had been used in the past.
Most of the Suzuki's use was in town, where I didn't have any problems. It could buzz along in second gear with next to no speed up, the A100 having a nice balanced feel despite its lightness. It was both narrow in the extreme and easy to turn through the chaos of massive traffic jams. I had to laugh at the cagers, for the cost of their yearly car tax disc I was free!
Frugality was another good point. Tyres, brake shoes and chain wore so minimally it wasn't worth talking about. Oil was about a pint every 400 miles and fuel between 90 and 110mpg, although before the decoke it was only 75mpg. The only thing I didn't like was the reserve tap that didn't work. There was crud in the bottom of the tank that filled up its filter. I would pull the tap off, clean it out but within a month it was clogged again. Seemed that the petrol tank was slowly rusting away from the inside out! It was easy enough to avoid, put a gallon of petrol in every time the A100 clocked up a 100 miles.
The only detrimental behaviour in town was due to the set of SLS drums. The rear was merely spongy with a liking for locking on in the wet for a few moments - the slight slide was not too frightening. The front's delinquency came from a lack of power, and overheating. There was still plenty of meat left on the linings and shoes. To be fair to the front drum, once or twice I had to stop in a hurry in town, used enough force on the front lever to almost break my hand and pulled up with a squealing tyre an inch from hitting a car.
The first time I wandered out of town the character of the bike changed out of all recognition. What had been pleasant and smooth became, after 25 miles, vibratory, harsh and uncomfortable. The aged seat flattened out, revealing that the frame was abuzz with an excess of vibration from the motor which was held at sufficiently relentless revs to keep 60mph on the clock.
Riding into a heavy wind, I had to change down to third gear, but the large gap between the ratios meant I had lost momentum, putting a mere 42mph on the clock. The engine seemed reluctant to work its way back up to a decent clip and outraged cagers bustled past with their hands on their horns, leaving us wallowing in the gutter.
Suspension was very basic, hardly any damping but that didn't really matter as there was very little movement. It shook over bumps but seemed to track along okay without the expected weaves and wobbles. Big pot-holes felt like they were tearing the forks off but after the initial shock of the violent reaction things quickly smoothed out. Ground clearance was only limited by the footrests, a point at which the tyres felt like they were due to let loose.
Most of the engine is placed very low down, giving a secure feel to the chassis. The bars were high and the footrests mounted forwards in a manner typical of seventies Japanese cycles. That was immensely comfortable for commuting but very tiresome on the open road. 150 miles in a day turned my mind, wrecked my body and left the A100's engine wobbling in the frame, with enough heat to threaten the front tyre with instant melt-down. My own fault for riding the A100 way out of its natural context.
A new seat mail order from a dealer who was selling surplus stock made the Suzuki several times more comfortable and helped absorb road shocks from the criminally neglected surfaces. A friend had come off due to a huge crater and had successfully sued some money out of the council, but it took nearly a year and he only did it because he was a law student, able to represent himself.
A spot of hard starting after a year's abuse was tracked down to a shot capacitor, so a large auto item (75p) was wired into the magneto. I was tweaking the points every 5000 miles just to be on the safe side but it never really needed adjustment. The lights had always been appalling, so bad that I tried to avoid riding at night. Even in town it was a bit dangerous, as the rear light flickered imperceptibly at low revs, using the throttle to increase electrical output just obscured the back end with a thick dose of pollutants. Even if the cages could see the bike they'd probably make a beeline for the back end in an act of revenge for the coughing fit inflicted upon them.
Falling off the A100 was quite hard because it was so light, at 200lbs, thus very controllable. However a combination of cheap and nasty Japanese rubber that came with the bike, that refused to wear out, and an icy patch on a bit of town road had me sliding away. The bike slid along, bending the bars and taking out a couple of indicators. I bashed my helmet hard enough to crack it and bruised my elbow. I should have seen the ice but was watching a huge Volvo to see what kind of lunacy its driver was going to inflict on the traffic... it was rather embarrassing to find that he was the only one to stop to pick me and the bike up off the road!
It didn't put me off commuting to work on the Suzuki; I was saving too much money and time to contemplate any other form of transport. The A100 now has 52000 miles on the clock and is still going strong. Good used ones are rare now, especially ones not wrecked by learners, but there's still the odd one rattling along. For under a hundred quid there are few better bikes available for the commuting chores.
Alan Donaldson