A one year old, 1989 Suzuki GS500E with 29,500 miles on the clock? Yes, it was a despatch machine that had been thrashed by a mate. I was quite new to the DR game and desperate to upgrade from a rotting CD200. The main advantage of buying the Suzuki was its reasonable, £1500, price and that it came with panniers and top box, the owner giving up the game for pastures anew.
The GS is quite popular with DRs, being narrow, light and powerful enough for London's congested roads. A couple had gone through their cranks after oil changes were ignored and some had electrical failures, but they seemed to rumble along up to 50/60,000 miles without too many problems, so with a little luck my bike had another year or two of useful life.
Having handed over so much money I decided to change the oil, check the carbs and the valves, but they were both okay. General engine noise was reasonable and the motor was still punchy. The rest of the bike was in a bad state. Patches of rust peeked through the frame paint, what little chrome the bike had was spotted with rust. The chain and sprockets had seen much better days. The rear mono-shock was loose on its bearings. The front forks were pitted and soggy in action. Both disc pads were down to the metal, making strange screeching noises.
The indicators had been thrown away after an accident; various dents and scrapes were indicative of a few slides down the road. Nevertheless, I was happy enough to ride the bike in this state. After a CD the bike felt taut, the brakes responsive and acceleration breathtaking, even if in reality it wobbled all over the road. I knew my way around London pretty well by the time the GS came into my possession, so with its increased speed and agility I was able to pack more jobs into a day.
The GS is the last in a long line of air cooled Suzuki four stroke twins that can trace their ancestry back to the mid seventies GS400. The engine featured a 180 degree crankshaft, four main bearings, gear primary drive, a single gear driven balancer shaft, DOHCs and two valves per cylinder. The upshot of all this is a motor that's very smooth for a twin, producing a reasonable mix of low speed torque and high power output, although the bike prefers to be revved beyond 7000rpm to stuttering along in a high gear at low revs.
The GS proved ideal for the cut and thrust of London traffic. It was thrown about a bit by the giant potholes because the suspension was worn out and the rear linkages knackered, but it was always easy enough to throw back on line. The real danger from potholes came when you hit one when snaking through a small gap in the traffic. The 375lbs of GS could then be quite easily thrown off course, scraping seriously deep gouges into the sides of cars. I never stayed around to listen to the car owner's opinion of such deviant behaviour.
Another dubious trait was knocking off car mirrors as you sped through gaps in traffic. Unless great care is taken it's quite easy to whack on the brake lever which then smacks your fingers, as well as momentarily operating the front brake. This frightened the shit out of me the first time it happened - the front end didn't stop shaking for about a 100 yards and my bruised hand hurt like hell all day.
After about 2000 miles I felt I liked the bike enough to replace the various consumables that were worn out when I bought the GS. I still didn't feel like cleaning up the machine, though, it just became more and more covered in crud. Great scabs of black engine paint had fallen off and the silencers had become very loud with various bits of rusted baffle rattling away.
Out of London, the GS was not too happy. The back end leapt about above 70mph; the few times I managed to put the ton on the clock the wobble became very violent, real white knuckle stuff. Leaning over for fast curves resulted in a series of weaves, the whole bike feeling like the frame was cracking up. As most of my riding was done in London this did not worry me too much. The only trouble was that the bike's appearance drew police to it like a magnet. One chap waggled the swinging arm and told me get it fixed pronto. I found the bits in a breaker from a crashed, 3000 miler and also swapped shocks.
With the back end sorted out, the bike felt transformed. Stability was brilliant right up to an indicated 105mph, the most I could screw out of the motor. The way I could chuck the bike through corners was amazing, although the front forks could jump about a bit, but the stiff chassis was able to keep the GS on line. The improved handling allowed me to throw the bike through London traffic faster than ever, I was doing jobs in record times.
Then I started falling off on wet roads. The half worn Metzs the bike came with were down to less than 2mm, prone to sudden loss of traction they frightened the life out of me several times before I went to the hassle and expense of replacing them. Back tyres last about 8000 miles, fronts 7000 miles, the latter probably because I tend to brake very harshly in the cut and thrust of London traffic (which wore out front pads in less than 5000 miles).
Damage to the bike was a lot less than to the rider. The few bits that were bent were easily kicked back into shape; I didn't worry about the dents in the tank and silencers. I, however, had to hobble off to casualty to have my knees treated for gravel rash. Ouch. The first year went by without any great problems, just a matter of replacing consumables and doing oil/filter changes.
Towards the end of that period a silencer that fell off and turned to dust when it hit the tarmac hinted that I should replace the exhaust. I didn't quite manage that, instead attaching some GPZ600 silencers that a breaker sold me. This wasn't a very wise move as there was a flat spot between 3000 and 6000 revs, although top speed increased to 110mph. The bike became a bit of a pain in town, after ten hours in the saddle screaming the bike through the gears to avoid the flat spot becomes a bit tiring. I bought a used GS exhaust and that brought the civilised performance back.
After the first year in my ownership the mileage had increased to 56000 miles. The motor had become noisy as if the camchain was on the way out, although the valves had stayed within limits since I bought the bike and it hadn't been necessary to even balance the carbs. The front forks had started juddering badly, but then I hadn't replaced the steering head bearings which were on the way out when I bought the machine!
Appearance had degenerated to a ridiculous level - the GS looked about twenty years old and as if it had been around the clock two times. It kept going for another three months and 4000 miles, until a fellow DR was killed. I had been having near misses myself, the cagers appeared to have gone completely crazy. After the DR died I decided it wasn't worth the effort any more, earnings having gone down to around £175 a week.
Whilst I was waiting for a proper job to turn up I decided to strip the cycle parts down and clean them up. The frame needed a complete respray to get it back into shape. A newish tank was liberated from a breaker whilst various other bits were touched up or polished. The black paint was painstakingly removed from the engine and the alloy polished and buffed up. The reassembled machine looked pretty good, even if I say so myself.
I don't know if it was worth the effort because with 64000 miles on the clock the engine started spewing out blue smoke and knocking ominously. A quick look at the price list at the local Suzuki dealers dissuaded me from considering a rebore or valve job. Instead I handed over £600 for a 2000 mile engine from a breaker in Bristol, they guaranteed the engine as coming from a two month old bike. I tend to believe them, for once, as the motor feels very smooth and fast, as well as averaging 55mpg against the older engine's 42mpg.
No sooner had I done this than the rear suspension linkages went to pot again, despite covering everything in grease when I did them last time. The front forks have gone really bad as well, so there's not much precision left in the chassis and the rear caliper has seized up, probably because I rarely use it. I will probably sell the bike as it is as I can't afford to spend any more on it.
As a DR machine it's certainly reliable but heavy on consumables. As a general purpose machine, subjected to a lot less abuse and mileage, it'll probably go on for ages. When in good condition the GS handles superbly and has enough performance to keep you awake. There is nothing astonishing about this bike, but it's good value for money, new or used.
Bob Collins
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Buying a one year old GS500E should have been a simple enough affair. The problem was that in Bristol every time one was advertised it was sold before I got there. I ended up in one of the large dealers, haggling over a one year old, 9000 mile example. I wanted £750 off the price, which had the dealer leaping up and down with the horror of such a suggestion. Only after he phoned a London dealer to confirm the discount on a new one, did he agree to knock 500 sovs off. Even then, I didn't think I had the bargain of the century.
It was better to pay a little over the odds than continue using public transport which was both expensive and idiosyncratic. I figured the extra overtime from the savings in commuting time would more than compensate. The dealer insisted that the GS had already had a full service, so all I had to do was get used to the bike over Sunday in readiness for the commuting chaos.
The GS500E is a small, compact vertical twin of 380lbs, with light steering and an easy natured engine. As such, it only took a few miles to feel right at home. My only worry was that at over six feet tall I rather dominated the machine, although doing 150 miles on that first Sunday produced no cramps. I was quite pleased with my choice of motorcycle. I wanted something that was simple and yet reasonably sophisticated. The aircooled motor, with its gear driven balancer, was sufficiently smooth to almost fade into the background and the gearbox was sheer bliss in its action after a rotted Superdream that had almost gone all the way around the clock. After that experience, I'd sworn never, ever, to buy a bike with a chain driven balancer again!
So, to the commuting chores. The GS as a light, narrow bike had no problems hustling through the heavy traffic. The front brake could bounce the forks on their stops when the cagers started to play nasty. The only off-putting note in the first few weeks was the way the front end twitched when encountering large pot-holes. It was sometimes impossible to clock both the antics of the car drivers and the state of the road surface. The bars swung from side to side for what seemed like a long time afterwards. It gave the cagers something to smirk about whilst they waited in the traffic jams.
Apart from that, I found the little Suzuki was one of those bikes that brought out the best in my riding, discovering a great sense of satisfaction in riding in a very fast yet safe way through town. I was saving ten minutes on a twenty minute trip each way compared to the Superdream and about an hour each way compared with public transport. A lot of it was down to the compactness and low weight that gave a great feeling of control. Backed up by the slick gearbox and fluid power that was never so fearsome that I felt the GS was going to get away from me.
I hadn't really done anything to the bike in the first three months, just ran the GS every day, becoming a bit blase about its reliability. The 500E has nearly two decades worth of development from GS series DOHC twins and must be one of the toughest engines around. It wasn't the motor that caused the first hassle but the chassis.
I noticed that the pads were squealing a bit every time I used the front brake hard, but it wasn't until one desperate braking session that a horrible graunching noise and lack of retardation occurred. This happened as I was vainly trying to avoid collision with an ancient Mk.1 Cortina that had decided to skip across three lanes of traffic. Moments before metal tore metal I'd managed to hit the horn but to little effect.
We bounced off the side of the car and tried to slide down the road. Following cars stopped our motion. The result was that I was bruised and blooded and the Suzuki had a dented wheel, bent forks and smashed instruments. It was just as well there wasn't any expensive plastic to ruin. The Cortina hadn't bothered to stop and my protestations to the cagers about their damaged autos didn't cut much ice. In all, there were seven damaged cars, as a couple had back-ended each other. Luckily, I had paid out the extortionate amount demanded for insurance.
Several phone calls failed to locate any useable spares in breakers. The last one I phoned suggested that some GS550M bits he had would fit straight on, but the different wheel sizes didn't inspire. It seems most GS500s end up in breakers when they roll down the road, engine failure being very rare. Rather reluctantly I had the wheel and forks repaired. The clocks were cracked but still functioned so some trendy black tape was wound around the cases. I also bought a new set of pads, the old ones down to the metal with a mere 10,200 miles on the clock.
It took a while to get my nerve back, but the Suzuki had so much verve that it inspired the best kind of riding. I know it's not fast, but the point is that unlike the race replicas it's so comfortable that it becomes an extension of ones limbs, every action soon becoming second nature. The few motorway sorties revealed that it would whirr along at an indicated 90mph, but achieving the top speed of 110mph required fervent use of the throttle and gearbox, along with a flat on the tank stance. Normal riding wouldn't let it do more than 95mph.
The back end, with its single shock set up, seemed quite loose. The cause of the weaves was revealed at 12,500 miles as a shock without any damping. It made even town riding troublesome, with the back tyre flitting all over the road even when the bumps were relatively mild. My spine felt like hell. The breaker sold me a shock of the same length but with a much meatier spring for a mere fiver.
The back end felt transformed, the tautness had me screaming through traffic like a juvenile delinquent. The front forks seemed even wilder in comparison whenever they hit a vicious bump, threatening to twist out of their yokes when I hit the front brake lever with my usual muscle. The solution, fitted at about 13000 miles, was a fork brace.
As the nights began to draw in I had to use the lights to get back and forth to work. There seemed something wrong with the front lamp, perhaps a result of the accident, it would flicker on and off at certain revs. I pulled the mess of wiring inside the headlamp shell, which seemed to help for a few miles. It wasn't until a free weekend that I was able to give it a good going over, a loose connector being the problem. I soldered the wires together and wrapped them in insulation tape. The lights couldn't be called exceptional, even when they were working as intended, but they sufficed for town work and up to 40mph on unlit country lanes.
Suzukis are not renown for the longevity of their electrics, so I was a bit worried when in the depths of winter the battery refused to hold a charge. I'd never bothered to check its level so only had myself to blame for an acid level that showed it more than half empty. I filled it up with tap water and carried on for a couple of weeks until it refused to turn the engine over. A new battery went in at 14,800 miles.
15,500 miles was enough to have the Avons down to the carcass (I don't know when they were fitted but had about 4mm of tread when I'd bought the bike). The Suzuki dealer offered me some cheap Far Eastern tyres, insisting that they were the business. He even fitted them for free. I became very suspicious when the front went flat three miles later. That fixed, the next bit of amusement was the first spot of rain. The wheels seemed to slide in different directions even when they were upright. The first time I banked over for a tight (and therefore slow) corner the bike simply slid away from me. I stepped off as it scraped along on its side. Miraculously, any serious damage was avoided and I was able to ride at 5mph to the nearest tyre dealers. Avons were fitted this time!
Cold and wet was how I spent most of my time commuting on the Suzuki for the next four months. The GS ran on regardless, with just an occasional oil change, the mileometer reading 21,300 by the time March came along. The finish made the bike look over ten years old. White tank paint was streaked yellow, the engine finish replaced with layers of white crud that was only matched by the wheels, the rear at least partly saved by the layers of oil thrown off the chain, which was just about on its last legs.
The only item to impede forward progress was the disintegrated exhaust which fell apart when I tried to patch it. For a bike less than two years old general build quality was poor. The breaker provided a replacement exhaust out of a 4000 mile GS that had broken its front forks in a straight on crash. It took three attempts to achieve a proper fit as the exhausts didn't seem made to the same dimensions. A few whacks with a hammer helped.
A bit of patching and painting just before 25000 miles had the Suzuki looking reasonable. I had no intention of hanging on to the GS for any longer, as I felt it was only a matter of time before some other component failed. Traded it in for a very nice TDM850, my motorcycling ambitions having been ignited by my experience with the Suzuki. I never touched the engine internals, enjoyed myself for most of the time and would recommend it for a 125 or rat bike graduate.
James Atkins
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It took a while to convince the owner that I wasn't going to pay silly money for his 1990 GS500. Anything with 48000 miles on the clock ain't going to fetch big money. In this case, the motor sounded okay but the chassis was grotty. For a bike like the GS that's bad news. The same old story with Jap's - wrecked mono-track linkage bearings, seized to destruction calipers, suspension so loose it'd make even a FS1E feel dangerous, rust coming out from underneath the paint, etc., etc.
That's five years of neglect for you. Seven hundred notes was the most I was willing to hand over. It took him a week to get back to me with a reluctant yes. Luckily, I enjoy a bit of hard graft when applied to a motorcycle, soon had all the offending bits ripped off and stripped down. More hard work than great expense although all I did to the suspension was spray WD40 on the rear shock and turn up the pre-load to maximum.
The reassembled hack still looked hard used but was far enough from rat status not to attract the attention of the plod; the OE exhaust was, amazingly, still in one piece, albeit corroded together. New, there was a claimed 50 horses and 110mph top speed, but well worn it wouldn't pull more than 95mph and did only 45 instead of 60mpg.
I'd owned a GS400 ages ago and was expecting more of the same but the whole effect of the engine, which should've been smoothed into blandness by the gear driven balancer, was ruined by a transmission that would've been more at home in a sixties Honda.
Below 3500 revs there was an awful lot of surging, clanking from the drive chain and insufficient power to pull the skin off a rice pudding. The smaller, older twin would sing along sedately at low revs without any such trauma. It was so bad that if I persisted the clutch went all tight on me and the gearchange action turned to sludge. Whether this was just engine wear or bad design I was unable to determine.
Between 3500 and 7000 revs the motor wasn't exactly riveting but it at least ran cleanly with only the odd misfire in the exhaust to remind me I was on a worn out hack. From 7000 to the red line some real power was produced, with an increase in engine vibes but all was well with the world.
Or at least I could imagine all being well with my world if I had a new set of front forks and tyres. Much above 70mph the GS went into the kind of turn that would win it star rating in a circus but had me looking for a place to throw up. Again, new forks would've cured the beast, made it as good as the comics reckoned, but poor old I had the joy of fighting front wheel wobbles, with the bars whacking from stop to stop. Left me with a sinking feeling, as if death was imminent, but all it took to clear it up was a gradual loss of speed.
The frame was still as strong and straight as when new and I'd sorted the back end. This allowed me to get away with murder and develop a liking for speeding with a pillion on the back. They were reduced to a gibbering wreck when we went into a speed wobble at 80mph, my high pitch, hysterical laugh doing nothing for their peace of mind. The one I really enjoyed reducing to a wet underpant wreck was the MD of the company where I work. The train strike had left him stranded and I volunteered to serve as a taxi service. After the first 90mph run he was shaking and in tears, screaming to be let off. I left him in the middle of the countryside but he was too embarrassed, after pissing himself, to sack me the next day!
Despite myself, and the state of the Suzuki, I was beginning to enjoy the GS! Some bikes get to you like that. Having to keep the revs high and ride on the dubious brakes, meant my concentration was sharpened and the extravagant risks got the adrenaline into overdrive. After a ten mile scream into work I was buzzing all over with the thrill of it. The crazed grin I wore was the talk of the proles in work when they weren't going on about last night's TV. I blew their minds by declaring I never watched the box.
I was expecting some big problems with the GS but got away with three months and 11000 miles of anarchy without anything blowing. There were a few minor ailments - blowing bulbs, disc pads falling out, a mudguard disintegrating when the wheel picked up half a brick, the seat falling off..... you know the kind of stuff, it all comes naturally to those who insist on riding ancient hacks.
Of course, it all had to come to an end. Not a terminal one, just the good old alternator burning out all its coils. The bike could still be run by charging the battery every day and disconnecting the charging system, as long as the lights weren't used for more than a micro-second. An exchange alternator solved the problem, the rest of the electrics more robust than older Suzukis when the failure of one component would quickly ruin the rest.
I'd bodged the brakes for a while but not very sensible so when a set of newish calipers and discs turned up I went for them. Wow, what a transformation, I was stoppie king for a while. Until I fell off, rather than getting the back wheel off the ground the front tyre skidded away from the bike. Didn't hurt me, I wear leathers and body armour, look like one of those American football players, and the GS just scraped away a layer of its paint and engine finish whilst denting someone's white Corsa. Quick exit time.
After five months, or so, the rust came back, insidious in nature due to the cheapness of the steel used in the bike's construction. The tank felt weak between my knees and flakes of rust dropped off the bike at a standstill, rather like the old Brits dropped oil. The engine, with 75000 miles up, was going through a pint of oil every 200 miles, with the camchain rattling loud enough to have next door's infant burst into smiles, gurgle as happily as the now straight through exhaust.
The end was coming, but before I could flog the bike the camchain tensioner cracked up. I got to it before total failure sent metal shrapnel around the engine, thankful for the frame coming apart on one side to ease engine removal. A secondhand tensioner had a slightly different design but was hammered in regardless. The motor sounded quiet but went no faster nor vibrated any less - I was beginning to wonder if the buzzing would ruin the tank's seams or if the rust would get to it first. When I'd taken the tank off, shaken it upside down, a large pile of rust had fallen out. A breaker offered me a heavily dented item for a fiver and I grabbed it with both hands. A brand new tank would've looked silly given the wrecked appearance of the rest of the chassis.
By 80,000 miles I ended up with a machine that would barely run below 4000 revs and vibrated like a Norton Atlas at higher revs; wandered all over the road at low speeds and shook and rattled at high velocities, though with its compact layout and light mass it never came close to being terminal. There was only one thing for it, wire-brush the rust off, touch up the paint and put thick gearbox oil in the engine to damp out the rattles (making clutch drag endemic). I did the round of the three nearest dealers, finding one willing to give me £1250 off a Honda CB500 twin plus cheap finance.
It seemed a fitting replacement as the GS500 was an update on the early seventies Honda and the watercooled CB a further development of the vertical twin concept. Jolly good it is, too. Time moves on and you have to keep up, don't you?
Keith
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It didn't take me long to work out that the GS was going to be a joy to own. The first hint was the way I blew off an XJ650 through a series of curves out in the Pennines. There are many things you can criticise about the GS, but not its mass (380lbs) nor the ease with which it'd flick through the curves. The poor old XJ rider didn't know what the hell had hit him. I could heel the bike right over until I thought it was going to go off the edge of the tyres!
Anyone used to the old style of GS bikes would be a bit shocked by the relatively fast turning front end, after a short time I seemed to be just thinking about changing direction rather than putting any muscle into the act. The downside of such efficient handling was that hitting a bump or pothole, whether banked over or upright, had the front wheel wobbling away. Once the tarmac proper was regained the wobbles died out; disturbing rather than frightening.
The GS has a quite modern, square section steel frame which wraps around the top of the engine. The age of the motor shows up in the way it has to be supported by the lower frame rails rather than acting as a stressed member. The back end's an excellent Full-Floater set-up, way ahead of the older GS's twin shock arrangement. The forks were utterly conventional but worked okay over the smaller bumps, the larger variety just rumbled through the chassis.
If twisty roads brought the best out of the chassis, fast cruising was still possible. 80mph was a breeze, 90mph was pushing the mill a little hard, with some vibes in the pegs, but with a firm upper lip could be maintained for an hour or so. The riding position should've been good for high speed riding, the bars flat and the pegs well back but I found it a bit cramped - some wags referred to the GS as a toy-bike, emboldened by the way I dominated it, like a flea atop an elephant.
As I've got long legs the tank's cut-outs didn't match the position of my knees, unless I sat on the back of the seat! The latter was comfortable for only 75 miles, or so, and the padding where it rested on the back of the tank left my balls numb. Those of smaller dimensions (and endowed like a hamster) will probably find the comfort okay. Despite these initial complaints, after three months I adapted to the little Suzuki and could do 300 miles in a day without too many pains.
The engine ran relentlessly. It clattered and rattled when cold, incredibly sensitive to choke and throttle position - get it wrong and a 5000rpm tickover resulted. Once warmed up it rustled away nicely and responded strongly to the throttle. Beyond 9000 revs power started to run out but it was possible to touch eleven grand without an explosion or excess of vibration.
Suzuki have had a lot of experience with this engine type, indeed defining it in modern form. Honda started off the breed in the sixties then lost their way with the seventies Dream and Superdream. Whereas Honda switched from the 180 degree crank to the 360 degree crank, Suzuki kept the pistons leaping up and down alternatively but added a gear driven balancer to quell the remaining vibration. By far the best way of dealing with vertical twin vibration, as much evidenced by the GS400 of 1977 as the GS500E of 1989.
Note that the GS uses gears to drive the balancer, has none of the tensioning horrors of the Superdream or even the Z400/440. The Kawasaki GPZ500 uses a similar system, save that its primary drive's by chain instead of the GS's gears. The latest Honda CB500 is very similar to the GS, save that it has the added complexity of watercooling (and lots more power). That Suzuki got the design basically right shows both in the form of the imitators and that they are still able to sell a bike whose design is nearly 20 years old.
On the road the Suzuki's smooth without being totally remote, I was always aware that the engine was whirring away. The engine shook a little at low revs and buzzed at the top of the range; in between it was pretty good, no worse than many a 550 four.
The gearbox was a touch notchy for a Suzuki but a paragon of virtue compared to my last Honda. A lot of gearbox action's needed to keep up a fast pace but the bike will also loll along between 2000 and 6000 revs if you don't want to get anywhere fast (and need to conserve fuel - 60 against 45mpg). It all becomes second nature very quickly and the GS is one of the easiest cycles to ride around, therefore ideal for 125 graduates and people coming back to bikes after years with cages.
Ease of handling, fun riding, fluid progress through traffic and generally cheap running costs are its major virtues. I bought my 1990 example in 1991, only 8000 miles on the clock and just one relatively mature owner (well, he was older than me). The bike was spotless, tending to confirm the owner's avocation that he hadn't ridden in the winter.
General cosmetic condition's a very good guide to how the bike's been treated. The frame paint's very poor and falls off after a month or so of winter riding. The exhaust's incredibly fast decaying, sometimes not even making it out of guarantee. Mine did but probably because I always sprayed WD40 down the can at the end of every day's ride.
The rear caliper was also another disaster area, gumming up, making strange noises and occasionally jamming on the back wheel. The mono-shock rear end had trouble coping with a suddenly locked up wheel but I avoided being thrown off - one time by putting a boot down! The minimal rear chainguard didn't help, throwing off the old engine oil I used to stop the O-ring chain rusting up. At least it stopped the wheel corroding up.
I had no trouble with the suspension and swinging arm bearings, but that was only because twice a year I took it all apart and greased up the spindles. Not that much trouble and much better than waiting until the whole lot seized up solidly. Check the Full-Floater set-up carefully if you're thinking of buying one.
One more disturbing aspect of the bike was that every time I rode in the rain all the screws and bolts came out in a rash of rust. I went to the trouble of painting them all matt black but after a month the paint was shrugged off. A pack of allen bolts was the only possible solution.
After 22000 miles the suspension went rather slack, the springs sagging, doing nasty things to the ground clearance. A Hagon rear shock was bodged in (used, from a breaker) and the forks uprated, handling becoming better than new. Although tall, heavy I'm not and those of bulkier dimensions may find even newish suspension too soft. The bike's developed from the Japanese 400 model, more suited to small Jap's than Europeans.
Maintenance's been easy, done it all myself. Oil at 1000 miles, carbs and valves every 5000 miles. There's now 37000 miles on the clock and the motor's still running as quietly and powerfully as when I bought the bike! I've seen a couple of examples that have done 60,000 miles, so there's plenty of life left. The general finish's the worst aspect, but paint can be relatively easily touched up; the fundamentals - frame and engine - are the business. Good ones are available for less than 2000 notes.
Chris Hopkinson