When I saw this weird looking thing in the dealers, I thought that's interesting. The salesman descended on my transfixed form and rattled off some specs. Kawasaki watercooled four, 398cc, four valves per cylinder, 53 horses at 11500 revs and 370lbs dry. Most watercooled Kawasaki four are a terrible mess of plumbing and it was evident that the unique frame design went out of its way to hide all the junk; an effect ruined by the radiator's cowls but they were quickly detachable.
None of the lines of the engine were matched to those of the frame, probably why the latter was painted dark grey. The four into two exhaust had the twin silencers exiting on the same side and in a rare moment of design art for Kawasaki their angle actually matched that of the NR inspired rear seat cowl. I told the salesman that it obviously needed a bit of finishing but that didn't stop him from practically lifting me into the saddle.
The 30 inch seat height was no problem, the dials were neat with only 7000 miles up. The bars and pegs could've been straight off the old CB400 four, that is perfectly relaxing and naturally secure. The finish was perfect, not a spec of rust. The engine hummed into life, rustled with good feeling and whined lovingly when I gave the throttle a vicious jerk.
No test ride. A guarantee for three months that wasn't worth the paper it was written on. £3250 to you, sucker! I offered £2500 cash and was laughed at. I pulled out the envelope and fanned the fifties at him. Started to walk out with the salesman hopping alongside shouting ever lower figures. It didn't move me, I was as cool as ice; I only had two and a half grand to blow. Just as I was about to hit the street he agreed to the deal.
An hour later I was grinning evilly as I played tunes on the silencers and sweet six speed gearbox. The engine ran sublimely from tickover onwards, gathering real power at seven grand with another kick at ten which would take it to 13 thou before I chickened out. There seemed a lot more horses than a mere 53, so it may've been derestricted - 130mph came up on the motorway first try. Not bad for a naked bike with a baying cyclone trying to knock me off. At that kind of speed the wind noise was deafening, completely drowning out the engine and exhaust noise.
Coming home, the downpipes were splattered with oil where the filter had started to come undone. Potential suicide for the engine if not me. Out with the chain wrench, tighten up and hear the sound of metal tearing. Drip, drip, drip. Total panic as I wonder what I've done but it was okay, just a distorted and broken oil filter.
Panic began to set in again after calling the dealer to demand a replacement. His laughter seemed to echo in the room for a few minutes afterwards. I'd slammed the phone down in disgust when he mentioned something about waiting for six months. A fervent two hour's worth of phoning found a grey importer who nonchalantly averred that he had half a dozen in stock.
A few days later I was back on the road. The Xanthus had taut, short travel suspension that gave the chassis an exceptional feel for a Japanese four that was out of character with its sensible riding position, but nevertheless great fun. There are few fours this light and flickable, with just the right amount of power to make life interesting without getting the chassis all excitable.
The seat was contoured just right for my backside but the foam lacked resilience, becoming a pain in the ass after a couple of hours. Not that the three gallon petrol tank allowed a range that was excessive, about 120 miles before paranoia set in. Cruising speed was merely a case of selecting a velocity at which I could comfortably lean into the wind. 85 to 95mph seemed ideal, with that high rev flood of power ready to come to my aid if I needed to get the hell out of the way of some mad four wheeler.
The brakes I couldn't handle. Twin discs out front with twin pot calipers, they were gruesome devices. Given the gentlest caress of the brake lever, the forks twisted and the tyre screamed. The rear disc didn't help being just an on/off switch as far as I could discern. With a high revving four with tiny pistons, there was hardly any flywheel effect, slamming the throttle shut didn't much help the braking. You might expect that time would give me the reactions to make the brakes work progressively but I lucked out. My friend who actually raced bikes reckoned the front brake was a pile of dangerous crap, so maybe I wasn't a complete fool, after all.
By some quirk of the weight distribution it was dead easy to do stoppies. So simple that I almost cartwheeled the Kawasaki down the road a couple of times. I was pulled by the rozzers once and accused of riding in a highly dangerous manner outside the local school. I think he was pissed because he thought my younger sister was actually my woman. She's stunning enough to make me think seriously about incest! She came along, smiled at the cop - he kind of quivered and waved us away before he did something carnal that would lose him his job.
Two-up the Xanthus fair sailed along, the mass out back adding to the feel of security. There wasn't anything remotely resembling a grab-rail so she had to cling on to me, an intimacy aided by the way the seat sloped forward. In a tee-shirt with some well endowed frail on the back I needed serious adjustments to my jeans when we stopped. Pillions reported a high frequency vibration but it never intruded on my comfort, the motor remaining silky smooth even when thrashed mercilessly.
Life turned a bit terrifying in the wet. There was the minor irritant of a motor that cut out in the rain unless doused in good old WD40. Going down to three or two cylinders then coming back on stream had the back wheel hopping and sliding. This was a light bike with a forward weight bias. The same madness happened when I used the rear disc brake but that was preferable to having the front wheel lock up and the bike go crashing into the tarmac.
Wet weather braking was thus very dicey. I came off once when the usual drongo tried to do a sudden U-turn. I didn't hit him as the bike slid away when I braked harshly. In the dry or in the wet on a bike with more sensitive brakes I would have missed him easily. I had the minor consolation of watching him speed into an oncoming car, presumably as he was trying to make good his escape. The Xanthus had bent levers and broken indicators, both cars looked like they were write offs. Terrible, innit!
The indicators were common to other Kawasakis, easily replaced after a visit to my favourite breaker. The bent brake lever promptly snapped in half when I tried to straighten it. The breaker didn't have a replacement and doubted that it was common to any other model. He gave me something vaguely similar that I had to spend hours modifying with a file. Encouraged by my success I took the back caliper apart to clean it up and replaced the brake fluid. Slightly more progressive braking resulted. I tried the same trick with the front brake to no avail.
In six months I did 17000 miles! Despite the finicky brakes I couldn't keep off the thing. The balance between chassis and power was enticing, enchanting, enrapturing ....you get the general drift. Race replicas when they are good have the same kind of invincible feel, but also have rotten riding positions, an excess of largely useless plastic and high levels of discomfort. That just wasn't acceptable, the Xanthus had to do general commuting duties as well as provide loads of kicks. In many ways a bike for all seasons.
Or not. At 24000 miles the top end started to rattle and knock. Oh shit! To be honest, for a moment, I hadn't done any maintenance save for oil and filter changes. Most people with modern Jap fours do exactly the same. Dealer charges are absurd and it's too much effort to even change the spark plugs. After relating my experiences to some friends they suggested a back street merchant. Some friends.
I turned up to find him well into the chisel and hammer routine on the cylinder head nuts. Everything was seized up according to him, but by the look of him it was his brain that was corroded. After half an hour he had the cover off and we could see the worn lobes and loose cam bearings. Burnt exhaust valves were revealed when the head was lifted off.
I'm off to the breakers to see if ZXR400 bits will fit. It's real sad to see the Xanthus in such a state, purely down to my own wilful neglect rather than any inherent fault with the machine. If you find a nice 'un buy it!
Graham Winters
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Almost the first time out on the Xanthus, I fell off. Or rather a car popped out of a side road and whacked the back of the bike. This is a quick way to wake up of a morning. The first I knew of it was a huge bang and then being thrown down the road. Being a paranoid kind of soul, I was wearing full leathers and body armour (it wasn't my first accident).
Damage was thus mostly to my self esteem. The Kawasaki was heavily dented, its immaculate sheen ruined. As it had cost me £3000 for a nearly new 4000 miler I was enraged at the sacrilege. The cager hadn't even bothered to stop and the cops who turned up accused me of doing a wheelie that went wrong. Some old sod, who was probably still living out his war years, waved his walking stick at me and told them I was a dangerous hooligan. At least I was able to wave the valid insurance doc under their noses, which meant I got off with a warning.
The bike wobbled away like the wraparound frame was seriously damaged but it was just me shaking with suppressed rage and fear. Back home, I tidied it up as best I could but it never really regained the previous showroom sheen. The ultra short stroke (57x39mm), 398cc watercooled four cylinder engine was still a peach, mind. It loved revs but would happily stutter along at lower speeds, even holding 30mph in top gear without feeling like it was falling apart. It was dead easy to ride along at absurd speeds...
I couldn't believe it the next day when I fell off again. This time there were no cars around. Just turning out of a slow corner, the front wheel flipped away as I went to hit on the throttle for some much needed acceleration. Wham, bang, thank you mam. My helmet scraped along the tarmac, taking a huge hole out of the plastic. The Kawasaki did a matching scrape job on the other side. I was so enraged that I leapt up and booted the back tyre a couple of times. That'll teach the bastard.
The 375lbs of metal was relatively easy to pick up, just as it was fun to flick through the bends. At least until I began to think the bike was cursed or my days on a CG125 had taught me nothing. For the next week or so, I opted for riding like I had lead in my veins and my so-called friends quipped that I would've been better off on a C90!
Boredom soon dissipated the fear. One thing, riding slowly the bike was amazingly economical - 75 to 80mpg! Compared to 45 to 55mpg under more normal levels of abuse. I was soon revving the engine round to 15000, though the power runs out after twelve grand and the motor feels nicest at around 10,000rpm. Cruising speed was well over the ton - even though it's naked the riding position's so well laid out that I could brace against the oncoming gale in pretty decent comfort. Must've copied those old BMW's. Incidentally, the bike might look odd but it's very comfy from the saddle.
After a month without any accidents I thought I had a handle on the blade, but, no, I was due for another tarmac bashing. This time it was a high speed get-off when the front tyre blew. Incredibly frightening, the front wheel dug in on itself and over the bars, down the road, went poor old I. Nearly snapped my head off and broke my ankle. A large amount of motorcycle debris was left embedded in the tarmac but the frame, forks and wheels were left unscathed.
The tyres were down to the carcass (with a mere 7000 miles on the clock), so it was really my own fault for riding a bike in a potentially lethal state. A nice new pair of Pirelli's were forced on to the rims, various broken bits of motorcycle repaired and my own increasingly large fears overcome. Luckily, it was the brake foot that was injured, so it wasn't too difficult to ride the Xanthus in plaster.
The triple discs were fierce stoppers, didn't need much muscle to squeal the tyres yet were sensitive in the wet. As nice a combination of qualities as you're likely to come across and the pads haven't worn out with nearly 13000 miles up. The front calipers have, of late, become a bit squeaky, probably down to hustling through the last winter.
Which also did for the finish. Where the paint had been scratched rust soon formed and spread under the good paint as well. Large scabs of rust broke through, making the bike look like a total rat. I had no choice but to pay for the tank to be resprayed. Similarly, alloy rot broke out where the lacquer had been breached, but here a little art with the Solvol soon sorted it out. Needed often enough to cause repetitive strain injuries to my hands!
The final indignity was when one of the exhaust cans fell off. This makes a hell of a racket, also causes the engine to have a fit of the stutters. I tried welding it back on but ended up with large holes in the exhaust system. Not cool. One of the downsides of grey imports is that aftermarket equipment ain't readily available, though the motor's similarity to the ZXR400 gave me some hope in the breakers. It didn't work out quite like that, ended up with some Motad cans that worked just fine.
Engine-wise it was just a question of adding oil every 2500 miles and checking the valves over, but they never needed any attention. The carbs stayed resolutely in balance. The only time the bike caught me out was when starting became difficult, down to the spark plugs needing to be replaced at 8500 miles. Something worth bearing in mind if you find one that's running poorly. No idea what kind of mileage you can expect out of these motors but Kawasaki are pretty good with their modern watercooled designs, so I'm hoping for the best!
The chassis is ultra strong, taut and great fun to ear-hole, and I can't really blame it for the accidents, except maybe the second one when the tyre flipped away without warning. The new rubber makes it feel a lot more secure and I'm quite happy to ride it in maximum abuse mode. That gives strong acceleration and a top speed of around 120mph.
Much to my annoyance, a GPZ500S can burn it off, though the smaller bike has better handling and stability in the curves. As the UMG has complained many times before, if Kawasaki can make a 375lb 400cc four surely they can make a 300lb 500 or even 600cc twin? That would make bikes like the Xanthus obsolete overnight, as it is they sell on their looks, adequate performance and reasonable running costs.
Prices start at two grand for the older, higher mileage ones and go up to as much as four grand for the seriously nice stuff in the more money grabbing dealers. I paid three thousand notes for mine and don't think they can justify any more than that - you may as well buy a new GPZ500S or 600 Bandit than pay a higher price for one. They are good but not that good.
Tom Renoylds