I am not much of a two stroke fan. Neither am I tempted by either cafe racers or race replicas. But, immersed in MCN's small ads, I felt a distinct tremor, a quickening of the pulse and a large dollop of motorcycle lust when I saw the advert for the Dresda Suzuki.
This motorcycle consists of a British chassis in the cafe racer mould and a two stroke, 500cc twin engine of the seventies era. It had been one of the dream bikes of my youth, a time when Japanese bikes just didn't handle and the Suzuki twin was a remarkably tough and durable stroker. Pushing out 50hp, the Dresda was much snappier than stock, thanks to its 300lbs of mass instead of the stock bike's 400lbs.
Within moments I was on the phone. Turned out the chassis was fitted with the earlier T500 engine rather than the later, less powerful GT500. The owner had acquired the bike with the intention of going racing but before he had fully assembled the thing had decided to go to work abroad. Thus, his sister was at pains to clear it out her garage as quickly as possible - she assured me that the £400 price was open to offers for a quick cash sale.
With a mate, who fortuitously owned a Transit van, the next weekend saw us en route for the 100 mile drive to Bath. I was shocked by the state of the bike when it was duly revealed. The chassis consisted of a frame, forks, swinging arm and wheels plus a large pile of hardware thrown in one corner. The engine was together save that there was another pile of bits consisting of carbs, points, clutch, exhausts, etc, that also needed attention. I looked things over and couldn't find anything that was missing or in a bad state of repair. However, that didn't stop me making an offer of £250 and we eventually settled on 300 notes.
All the way home I pondered what I had let myself in for. Jesus, it could turn out to be a very expensive business if I found any serious faults. The next day I started to sort out the mess, taking on the chassis first as this seemed more straightforward. The frame is a beautiful array of high tensile tubing. It looks like a Norton Featherbed frame that had some of the curves straightened out and extra bracing around the steering stem.....not surprising really as Dresda started out making Tritons. The frame was straight, the suspension bounced up and down reassuringly. A double headlamp fairing of curvaceous nature fitted on to the various brackets already welded to the frame, but it had a couple of cracks and was in a terrible state of disrepair. Ditto the GRP tank, in two places it had been patched up with extra GRP, not a very inspiring item - I immediately had visions of the bike turning into a ball of fire in the middle of town. The seat was a skimpy solo affair, again much patched up on the base.
When all the other bits had been added it looked decidedly rough, but I decided it would have to do until I could see if the motor was going to run. I had to order some gaskets for the engine before I could complete its assembly, but apart from that and having too use Araldite to re-thread the exhaust stub bolt threads, it too went together without any great hassle.
This simple two stroke unit has huge cylinder fins to aid engine cooling and a separate oil pump to ensure lubrication. When it first came out, in the late sixties, American testers thrashed it across the desert to prove that such a large stroker could survive massive abuse. Of course, having spent a couple of years collecting dust, it was most reluctant to start. It eventually rewarded a bump start down our street, much to the amusement of the local youths. And yes, a large pall of blue smoke resulted, mainly because I had adjusted the oil pump to deliver maximum flow just to be on the safe side, or so I assumed.
Any T500 owner will not be surprised to learn that the crankshaft oil seals had gone. You had to keep filling the gearbox with oil as its contents were drawn out by crankshaft pressure. Still, as long as a pint of oil was added every 50 miles it could be ridden around. Top speed was limited to 80mph and there were loads of vibes coming up through the chassis - probably because there was a 100lbs less steel to damp it out.
The clip-ons and rear-sets produced a terrible riding position that did my back in after the first 20 miles, whilst my head kept hitting the fairing's screen which blurred so much it made a high pitched wailing noise. However, the bike felt commendably stable and very flickable. Acceleration was up to a derestricted 125 and many a happy hour was spent racing one of the local youths on his TZR125. Fuel consumption was in the high twenties. I actually did 700 miles with the engine in this state of decay. I then managed to find a good GT500, one of the last made which had only two owners and 22000 miles on the clock. The stock bike was still in good nick with sensible mods to the suspension and British tyres.
For 1200 miles I was so beguiled by its civilised manners and the wonderful relief of an upright riding position, that I resisted the temptation to install the GT engine in the Dresda chassis. Top speed was 110mph, fuel averaged 45mpg and the previous owner had set the oil pump up to such perfection that there was nary a sign of the dreaded blue smoke. I was both impressed and contented by the stock GT500, although I will admit it wobbled a bit over 85mph and was decidedly skittish in the wet despite nearly new Roadrunners.
Then some clown back-ended me whilst I was waiting for the lights to change. Yes, he was driving a Volvo. Even after he knocked the bike and myself over he didn't stopped.....he only came to a halt when his wheel had flattened my back end. I could have cried! Anyway, the chap was so shocked by what he had done that he wrote me out a cheque for £500 which I deposited in the bank straight away and got them to clear pronto. The engine was not damaged, neither was the front end.
The GT came with a single disc that was the equal of the four leading shoe drum fitted to the Dresda. However, shoes for the Dresda were impossible to buy and when I found that the spare set of yokes which had come with the Dresda allowed me to fit the GT forks, there was no stopping me.....I didn't care much about the suspension, it was the riding position that I wanted to change. Off came the fairing, the headstock bracket sawn off, the new yokes installed with the rest of the GT's front end. Then it was in with the new engine and out with the old. I had a large pile of spare parts, five hundred notes and a perfectly running Dresda 500.
Hurray. It was still a bit of a stretch over the long tank, but, I figured, a higher set of bars would solve that. The vibes were a little diminished but the tank still buzzed between my legs and the footpegs rattled at certain revs. I had omitted to mention the engine swap to young spotty on the TZR, so it was with a huge grin that I unwrapped the throttle in second. The poor youth didn't see me for the rest of the day. What a goer! It was still running the same gearing as the GT500, so acceleration was much improved and where the stock bike had bogged down at lower revs the Dresda screamed off into the distance.
The weaving that was evidence of high speed riding on the GT had also disappeared. It wasn't perfect as the bars would shake from side to side when the suspension crashed over particularly large pot-holes - these seventies devices have very limited suspension movement and in the case of the Dresda very stiff springs (the GT's forks fitted had also been modified with stiffer springs and spacers, by the way).
Despite its light mass very little can throw the Dresda off line, it holds its chosen path with great tenacity. Once banked over it's possible to brake gently without having the bike sit up and head for the nearest hedge. One GT trait I don't like is the lack of engine braking and in the early days I found myself rushing up to corners faster than I wanted after rolling off the throttle did not have the desired effect. Fortunately, there is loads of ground clearance and the bike can be hauled over at unusual angles of lean without the rider emptying his bowels in fear and loathing.
The bike would shoot up to an indicated 110mph without trying and slowly reach 125mph. Flat out a slight wallow intruded and, once, when I hit a large bump at the ton the chassis went into a speed wobble - backing off the throttle calmed it down, but for the next few days I was very cautious in my use of the throttle. As a motorway cruiser the bike was passable up to 90mph..... the new found ability to ride fast had a terrible effect on fuel, the average down to 36mpg, giving a range of about 100 miles as I was loathe to fill the tank up to its capacity, fearing an excessive quantity of fuel would cause it to burst.
I decided to spend a hundred notes of having a custom made alloy tank built, which with rubber mounting would cure both my fears and, hopefully, the transmission of excessive vibes. I also made up a unique set of rubber mounted footrests which got rid of those tingles. It's these small kinds of mods which make a machine into a personal vehicle. However, before I could take delivery of my new petrol tank what I feared most occurred. It happened at the worst possible time - doing 80mph in the motorway fast lane. The first I knew of it was when my knees started getting wet.
I looked down to a flood of petrol pouring out of a long crack in the tank. How the whole thing didn't ignite I don't know. Amid much horn blasting from the various cars I had to cut up to get on to the hard shoulders, I hauled the bike to a stop, leapt off and ran a few yards hoping like hell I wasn't going to be part of the fire-ball. I was very lucky that the petrol just streamed off the hot engine without catching alight. The AA took me home.
While I was waiting for the new tank, I started modifying the seat with thicker foam and a new cover from an old leather jacket I had grown out of. I had also fitted electronic ignition to the motor to cut down on the tedious task of checking the ignition timing, the only other things I had to do was top up the oil tank, change the gearbox oil and put in the odd set of spark plugs. I put another 15000 miles on the clock with hardly any problems.
The new tank arrived, fitted straight on and did, indeed, cut down on the vibes after a couple of inner tubes had been wrapped around the frame tubes. For about 5000 miles I had an excellent road bike, equally at home as a motorway cruiser, back road hustler or GP start star in town - I even surprised a CBR600 owner with the standing start acceleration.
Enjoying a 100 mile back road jaunt just for the joy of it, a fierce vibration ran through the bike and the next thing I knew the back wheel locked up solid. As a matter of self preservation I always ride with my hands on the clutch and front brake levers, so I pulled the former in the moment after the wheel started to slew sideways and managed to disconnect the drive before the bike threw me off. The engine was seized solid. The AA came to the rescue again. The oil pump had seized up, in turn starving the engine of oil, leading to the pistons seizing in the bores and various other carnage. So, here I sit writing this waiting for another engine to turn up. I have the perfect chassis sitting in my garage awaiting new motive force; I cast my beady eye at many a different motor trying to see in my mind if it will fit the frame or not. If anyone out there has a good GT500 engine they don't want...
D.L.