120mph on a 25 year old motorcycle? Well, yes it was possible but not something I did for more than a few moments. The engine was, after all, a relatively mild 500cc two stroke twin that even if in the distant past was supposed to be incredibly tough it had now been around the clock once.
Apart from anything else, once above 100mph the economy took a vertiginous dive, working out at around 25mpg instead of a more normal, but only just acceptable, given my dirt poor status, 45mpg. And there was the major question of the front TLS drum brake that had become jerky in action.
The unit had for several years provided marvellous retardation even in the nastiest of nasty English winters. I’d recently put in new shoes as the old ones were down to the rivets after about 20,000 miles and replaced the cable which had lasted for about twice that distance before going somewhat elastic. Braking had improved but creeping unpredictability had begun to give me sleepless nights.
Further examination revealed that the drum had gone oval. It was slightly less traumatic than having a modern disc go wafer thin and crack up. After mulling over the cost of a new drum and the dubious possibilities of skimming the existing one (which I felt sure would give the aged alloy the excuse it was looking for to crack up), I decided that the front end off a GT500 I had languishing in the garage would be ideal.
These bikes get to you like that! As well as two T500 engines I’d bought a rat T350 and a blown GT500 for spares. In fact, to keep the T500 running I was willing to use components off the crashed Superdream or even C50 that were also sharing garage space. If things became really desperate I might even use the odd bit off a cage or the old washing machine. Never, when running a hack, throw anything away.
I’d already refurbished the GT’s forks so it was just a matter of taking the caliper down, cleaning it up and reassembling with new seals. The T500 needed new steering head bearings so they were bunged in as well. Disc brakes circa 1975 were not very impressive but with modern pads they worked almost as well as the drum for most of the time.
The engine had newish bores and pistons, a little bit shaved off the head and a bit of smoothing around its ports; was on its third rebuilt crank (the oil seals going twice and the main bearings once). Any T500 left stored for a while will dry out its oil seals, when started they will wear rapidly until the gearbox oil is sucked through into the crankcases. If you find one with a slick gearbox and minimal exhaust fumes chances are the motor’s in good nick.
Fifth gear on mine was inordinately noisy, which is quite common, but it didn’t slip out of gear and still engaged with a precision that was somewhat out of place with the rest of the bike. Power is mostly concentrated in the 4000 to 7000rpm range, although the engine will run 2000 revs either side of that. It’ll stay with a Honda Superdream 400 but have trouble keeping a GS500E in sight.
That’s in a straight line. Through the curves it’s in trouble, despite losing some weight by replacing metal chassis components with plastic when they rusted through, and putting on a stiff set of Girlings instead of the mushy original shocks. Most of the weakness seemed to come from around the swinging arm mounts, the arm itself looking a bit flexible.
Tyres were Avon Roadrunners, running a few more psi than recommended, which lasted for over 13000 miles on the front and 9000 on the rear; provided adequate grip for most of the time. White lines, after the tyres were half worn, would send the bike into a bit of a waltz, as would more than 75mph even on the smoothest and straightest of roads.
Bumpy roads of a curvy nature had the Suzuki shaking its head in anger and wagging its tail in dementia. There was still enough power to lighten the front end when accelerating hard out of bends. Giant speed wobbles were not out of the question, usually dying out before they threw me off.
I say usually, there were two occasions when the buckling became so intense that the machine and I were both thrown off the road. We both survived, thanks to a soft landing on grass. After such events the only thing to do was leap back on and speed off up the road, if I hadn’t done that then probably I would never again swing a foot over the Suzuki, or any other motorcycle for that matter.
Shortly after both speed wobbles the swinging arm bearings were loose, whether their demise caused the wobble or the frantic wobbling caused them to break up I don’t know. Either way, I now put in a new set at 5000 miles just to be on the safe side.
The riding position isn't stock, mild rear-sets and flat bars combining with a rebuilt seat with thicker foam to give a comfortable ride at reasonable cruising speeds or an hour or so of town work. Unlike similarly aged four strokes, the stroker doesn't go all temperamental during an excess of town work. Although the centre of gravity is low, the tank/seat relationship left me feeling like I was perched atop the bike - I've recently acquired a huge five gallon alloy job that should solve that! The bike's comfortable for five to six hours riding in a day before the twinges set in.
The engine complains if it doesn't have a new set of plugs every 2000 miles, either by refusing to start, stalling in traffic (a terrible fate as the kickstart's incredibly awkward to operate from the saddle) or just misfiring. Similar symptoms occur every 5 to 6000 miles if the points are not changed. Ignition timing stays in tune for about 1500 miles, it can be set by eye but a strobe is safer unless you want to chance burning holes in pistons. It's not too susceptible to oiling up, probably down to the improved two stroke oil that's now available.
One bit of great fun I had, which is all too common to these strokers, was the first time I tried to extract the motor from the frame. The engine bolts had seized in solid. The only way they moved was by putting a yard long bar on to the end of the socket wrench to obtain maximum leverage. Even then I had to put all my weight on it, which caused the bolt to snap and yours truly to be thrown face first on to the floor. Old bloody motorcycles!
Apart from stripping threads in the engine, and seized in cylinders, the motor was laughably easy to strip down. A lot of the internals looked like they had just come fresh out of the factory despite the speedo sporting 52000 miles. A crack running through the piston was the cause of that strip down, something to do with caning the bike in third and fourth in a back road scratch with a Kawasaki KH400. I won, the KH ended up with rattling main bearings and a huge plume of exhaust smoke.
There's usually some kind of warning of troubles to come. After living with the T500 for too many years I'm all too aware of how it should run, when there's a slight fall off in performance or increase in roughness (it was classed as electric smooth in its day but now passes for a rattly old heap) I know some work's needed. And it's given such good service that I don't mind doing it!
It's hard work finding a nice one, these days. Most of them have been caned to death and back again, and the few really immaculate ones are served up at such a ridiculous price that it's possible to buy something much newer and better for the same money. They were fantastic devices in their day, work nicely as cheeerful hacks even now, if you can find a source of cheap spares, and are the kind of simple bikes that you can grow into, modify to suit your tastes as you go along.
Kevin Mower
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You don't see very many of these big stroker twins on the roads, these days. They are even totted as classic sixties motorcycles, mostly on the back of their reputation as being incredibly tough. I don't know about that, my 1967 example seized up at 34000 miles and threw me down the road. That was in 1980, thoroughly annoyed and shaken I'd hurled the remnants of the accident to the back of the garage and pursued my highway kicks in an old Lotus Elan. That came to an end in 1991 when some fool handed over a ridiculously large sum for what'd become a sought after classic car.
Unfortunately, the money went to pay off the thieving bastards who held the mortgage on my house. A week later, whilst having a look around the local motorcycle dealers, I spied a pile of old Suzuki parts on special offer. I ended up with new tank, panels, guards and exhaust system for the T500. Fate had shown me what I had to do, that very day I'd dragged the T500 out of its hiding place and set to work in a fury of enthusiasm and energy.
I had taken the precaution of the filling the bores with oil; much to my surprise this had loosened off the pistons. The bottom end was sound, the bores okay, what was needed was new small-ends and pistons. MCN was consulted and the phone employed, the new parts ordered and arrived the next day COD. The engine was reassembled and started up without too much mayhem on the kickstart.
Having proved that there was still life left in the old girl, new consumables and chassis parts were fitted, an MOT gained and insurance paid (very cheap as the T500 was a classic). Sounds simple, I know, but all in all it took nearly a month to sort out the myriad of small details that are bound to crop up when a bike's been stored for over a decade.
For those who can't remember as far back as the sixties and seventies, Suzuki used to make a whole range of two cylinder strokers, from 125 to 500cc, having particular success with their 200 and 250cc models, in the days when learners were deemed sufficiently adept to handle such potentially fast machines. If the 250s managed close to 30 horses, and were in a high state of tune, then the 500 only produced 50 horses, was relatively mild and civilized for a stroker, especially when compared to the likes of Kawasaki's 500 triple.
With the brand new exhaust fitted, the T500 wasn't in any way loud or offensive, neither did the motor rattle and ping like you'd expect from an old stroker. The only sign of its age was a slight haze of pollutants but as the engine warmed even this cleared up - my careful setting of the oil pump obviously paying off.
I couldn't believe how smooth and slick was the gearbox, having used some modern bikes owned by friends - yes, I had made damn sure that the crank's oil seals were soaked in oil before I started up the engine. On bikes where the seals have blown and oil drained out of the gearbox into the crankcase, the gearbox's invariably rough and notchy. A quick and easy way of sussing the history of the 500 model if you're ever tempted to buy one.
Along with the still slick gearbox, the engine was smooth and powerful. Momentum was gained as the revs rose to an extent that quick action on the box was needed to keep up with the flow, though there was absolutely no point taking it above 8000rpm; power tailed off and vibes tried to undo the footpegs.
An excess of pleasant memories flooded back as I hustled along the Devonshire lanes, living out in the countryside having distinct advantages. The only spoiler was the TLS front drum brake which had a lot less power and precision than I'd recalled even though I'd fitted new shoes. A new cable and some precision work on its adjusters improved matters but the violence of the retardation never reached a level that allowed me to day-dream.
On one occasion the lack of brakes caught me out, although to be fair wet weather braking was largely superior to modern machines with their calipers exposed to all the grit and damp. I always laughed when heard tales of modern discs needing to be stripped down every six months. In this sole respect old drum brakes are vastly superior; it's a pity no-one tried to develop the design.
Back to the accident. The quietness of the bike meant that a pedestrian stepped out of nowhere as I was filtering between a couple of rows of cars. Rather than hit him I swerved into a gap in the traffic. Such an unexpected move meant the car behind plowed into my side. Had triple discs allowed me to stop on the proverbial dime I would've been able to slow in time. The speed of the collision was fortuitously low, most of the damage done to my leg. My rather large size meant the cager didn't go berserk and we parted without bothering with the insurers. The ped had fled scene.
The damaged leg made starting the machine all the more difficult, for some strange and devious reason they'd put the kickstart on the left-hand side. It's true that hardly any pressure's needed, due to most of the compression of the fuel/air mix taking place in the crankcases. This inbuilt supercharging along with the directness of the two stroke cycle giving these engines their verve.
It's surprising how even modern machines lack the direct connection between throttle and back wheel that these old strokers possess - as long as the engine's in its powerband; low revs and tall gears equates to the big sulk, along with some oiling of the plugs in mild town usage. Not that the engine stalled, being too civilised for such antics, it just sulked away until appropriate selection of gears and throttle position was achieved. Then it'd clear out its guts and steam up the road like a cat being chased by a dog.
This acceleration, which was strong up to 110mph with an ultimate top whack of 120mph, could catch out a chassis that was still wearing original suspension! There was a curious mixture of lack of damping and roughness in the ride that for the most of time didn't really upset the 400lbs of chassis. I guess the frame must've been well built because the worst that happened was a bit of tail shaking and head nodding. Ten-tenths riding might've turned up more nastiness but neither the bike nor I was in the market for that kind of craziness.
There was the odd minor problem as the mileage piled up over a year of riding. The rear light bracket fractured, left hanging on its wires. Rust from the old guard had gained a grip on its underside. A bit of metal plate and pop-rivet gun repaired it. The indicators started to flash at a psychedelic rate, which was repaired by a control box out of an MZ! Some bits of wiring looked dodgy, replaced before they could short out.
Finish, with all the new chassis parts plus some polishing of the cases and wheels, was excellent, almost as good as new even with the clock reading 48000 miles when I came to sell it. The only reason for the sale was that someone offered me £1500 whilst I had the chance of buying a nice Pantah 600 for 900 notes.
The new owner was a vague acquaintance so I know what's happened to the T500. Ran to 56000 miles when it needed a crankshaft rebuild. Expensive, as the mechanic also managed to ruin the front mounting lug! A few months later I was visiting the owner in hospital after he came off on a diesel slick. His wife gave me a look that made me feel two feet tall. The poor old T was badly mangled and I felt honour bound to sort her out.
Ended up with a front end and wheels off a GS550, Girling shocks, alloy racing tank, rear-sets and clip-ons. New or newish stock bits were impossible to find. The owner, once the plaster was removed, wasn't keen on the machine, offered it to me for £1000 but I'd already sold the Pantah, which was a bit of a dog, to buy an early CBR600. He eventually sold the T500 for £600.
Carl Driscol
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The biggest surprise about the 500cc stroker twin was how small it was. Looked less weighty than my 250 Superdream. Strokers are always more compact than their four stroke counterparts, but the 1970 machine was incredibly narrow between my knees and felt a bit toy-townish. It smoked a little from start-up, but the oil pump had been set perfectly - five minutes later the smog cleared up nicely.
Any idea of it being a toy was soon dissipated when I went wild on the throttle. Smooth, fluid power poured in, the road ahead soon eaten up. It wasn't really wild, not really arm wrenching, but there was sufficient acceleration to get the blood flowing - made the CB250N seem like an old dog. The bike was in nice condition, despite 78000 miles on the clock and two known rebuilds.
Long ago, the suspension had been upgraded, giving a nice taut feel and excellent directional accuracy - i.e. it went where I pointed it. The only real sign of its advanced age was the way the suspension failed to soak up all the bumps and holes that make up most of modern road surfaces. The ride was redolent more of a pushbike than something with working suspension. The oddly shaped handlebars inflicted quite a lot of damage on my wrists and the bumps that got through to my backside were an unusual cure for constipation.
Despite most of the Superdream's damping being shot, its springing was perfectly suited for ruined town roads, so it took a while until I adapted to the Suzuki's ride. It was possible to upgrade the suspension with something more modern, but out of town, on a decent bit of road surface, the bike was fluid and fast. Surprisingly good, given its age and mileage - but then I'm used to old hacks not prime meat.
The gearbox was incredibly slick and the engine full of power, from just above tickover right up eight grand. The lack of vibration was also surprising, given that there weren't any balancers in the engine and that it was bolted down without any rubber mounting - the previous owner told me he'd had to drill out the old mounting bolts because they had corroded into the engine cases! The new bolts were slightly larger in diameter than stock and well greased - he'd advised me to take them out every couple of months to grease them up again. This attention to detail's typical of T500 owners who tend to be rabid enthusiasts.
The bike was also fitted with electronic ignition and a new set of carbs, so it didn't need much attention, ran with the slight wail of straight cut gears and the crackle of a stroker mill on song. The hardest acceleration in top was between 75 and 95mph, which was also a useful indication of the cruising range. Top speed was 115mph in normal conditions, but with a following wind or downward stretch it would slowly creep up to 120mph, when a slight weave crept in. Basically, the bike telling me to back off. Even when stretched to the limit, vibration never reached the levels of the Superdream.
Even more surprising was the front TLS drum. This was relined, had newish shoes and a new cable, so was probably as good if not better than new. Compared to the disc brakes - neglected, leaking, warped discs, pads down to the metal, etc - the front drum was brilliant! It needed a bit of muscle but had a degree of feedback that I'd never experienced before, allowing heavy braking that was also safe. It wasn't affected by bad weather, acid rain or roads awash with salt; a revelation after a series of dodgy discs.
In contrast, the rear SLS drum was too powerful, locking up the back wheel. Taking it all apart revealed a carcinogenic level of asbestos dust and shoes down to their rivets. The new shoes I bought were a very tight fit, the back wheel barely able to turn for the first few hundred miles. When it was bedded in, the on/off action returned with a vengeance. Engine braking was minimal, so safe stopping in treacherous conditions had to rely on the luckily sensitive front brake; not ideal.
One area where the T500 was slightly lacking was in weight distribution. There seemed to be more mass over the front than the back wheel, the latter going into some wild skids when the road surface turned into gravel or over patches of oil and diesel. At one point I thought the whole bike was going to turn right round, only when the diesel ran out did the bike wriggle back on to line.
This was much more prevalent after about 1200 miles of ownership, when the swinging arm bearings started to wear out. Some plastic rubbish! I had some phosphor-bronze replacements made up by a mate of a mate - these are far more durable and self-lubricating. The swinging arm's a flimsy steel structure with naff chain adjusters but the bike weighs only 400lbs and the power doesn't cause too much trauma. I can't afford it, but lust after one of those alloy jobs with eccentric chain adjusters.
A little while after that I read in the UMG about wheel hub's cracking up on old machines, decided to check my bike over. Sure enough, the rear drum's casting had some hairline cracks. These were welded up by the same guy who did the swinging arm bearings, with the assurance that it was better than new. The vicious on/off action was intensified, suggesting the hub might've been warped by the heat of the welding torch. Leave well alone in the wet.
The aircooled engine could also run a bit hot in constant town riding. It never seized but the plugs would sometimes foul, the engine stuttering a few times, catch and then crackle up the road. Never on one wheel, but it did jerk my arms a bit when it caught. All good fun unless I forgot to change the plugs (every 1000 miles, or so) when it could stall and refuse to start for a few minutes. I couldn't believe how annoyed the cagers got at the dead motorcycle in the way of their five yard forward surge. Some people!
Other signs of the bike's age were the way the frame would spit out rust when it rained, the odd cable seizing or breaking, and the electrics giving some trouble. The latter was down to a burnt out rectifier and the odd bit of insulation falling off. The ignition side of the circuit had been rewired when the electronic ignition was fitted, so the bike never left me stranded in the middle of nowhere.
I preferred to ride the Superdream in the winter - I always fell off and the Honda was already a total rat, could roll down the road a few times without much further damage inflicted on it. The T500, in contrast, was a classic Jap with the potential of off-loading it for a large pile of dosh. Potential and reality were rather different, though, the market for these old Jap's is very limited - if you keep at it you may get lucky but for most of the time no-one bothers to phone if prices are high. The T500's previous owner had started off at two grand and sold it to me for £800 some six months later. Few people will pay over a grand even for something immaculate. If you advertise one at £750, though, you'll have a horde of the great unwashed making a path for your house.
Having owned the T500 for a year, done 4500 miles, I'm not keen on selling, though. It looks like an antique but its on the road performance is surprisingly modern once you adapt to the rough ride (which probably isn't so bad on stock suspension, but then the handling goes a little odd) - certainly up to the milder 400-500 twins.
As long as you buy one with a good motor, either low mileage or rebuilt. 50,000 miles is claimed as possible but old ones have usually been thrashed and rebuilt, at least once. Signs of a good engine are pretty obvious - lack of smoke and vibes, plus a good power kick. Some of them are well bodged, with seized in bolts, dying suspension and even cracks in the frame (check the steering head, shock mounts and area around the engine bolts). Find a good one and you won't regret it.
Fred Wheatly