Yamaha's Radian is a rare machine in the UK. In the States it is quite popular as a street cruiser, a sort of mini Vee-Max. Its engine is based on the ubiquitous XJ600 across the frame four. Gearing and state of tune are set up for maximum acceleration away from the traffic lights. This black and chrome bolide turns heads almost as well as a Harley Sportster.
Well, you know how it goes. I went to see a one year old example for sale in London for £2500. I wasn't really sure what it was, as the owner's description had been very vague, something about an American import and it being pristine. The moment I saw the Radian I knew I would have to buy it. Not being totally stupid, I made some disparaging comments about its high handlebars and fat-boy petrol tank, before taking it for a turn around the block.
The exhaust made a lovely whine as I turned up the whick and dropped the clutch. I had to quickly haul back on the throttle as the front end threatened to leap off the tarmac, scorching acceleration followed as I put some body weight on the front end and opened the throttle again. Light clutch, smooth gearchange, yet more vivid acceleration then wham on the double discs out front. Jesus, almost took a layer of tread off, so powerful.
Back at the vendor's house I tried vainly to conceal a large grin. Only got fifty quid off the price. The clock read only 7245 miles and everything seemed like the bike had just come out of the showroom. Couldn't find anything wrong with the bike, even the chain and sprockets looked as good as new. Riding home, suspension felt a bit on the soft side, although as I only managed 70mph top whack, due to heavy traffic, I didn't detect any weakness in the chassis.
Next day I proudly hauled my machine out of the garage, much to the envy of cager neighbours, but the bugger refused to start before the assembled crowd. Most embarrassing. Having wasted a good part of my youth riding hideous hacks, I knew my way around engines. Spark was there, a whiff of fuel was getting through and the engine half-heartedly rumbled as the starter churned the motor over.
Try a new set of spark plugs, thought I. Off with the seat and tank to get at the centre plugs.....oh dear, there were slight kinks in the frame tubes. Shit. The frame looked straight so the bike had probably been in a crash and been fixed in some back yard operation. My feeling of horror deepened when I realised that I had cross-threaded one of the spark plugs. I gingerly screwed it out.
So there followed much swearing, wielding of spanners and massive exertation. It took the whole day to wrench the engine out and rip the cylinder head off. The way things were going I suspected that I would find some terrible malaise within, but no, everything looked beautiful inside the engine, even the camshafts showed no nasty wear marks. The local dealer was most amused at my ineptitude but did a helicoil insert whilst I waited for next to nothing. I put the plugs in with the head off, as I could see exactly what I was doing.
The following day the engine was put back together with a new head gasket, the valves checked (all spot on) and a new camchain fitted (the original didn't have a split link). Much to my astonishment, the beast growled into life first touch of the button. The only problem was that the exhaust system was not seated properly into the cylinder head. All the bolts were loosened off and the headers given a few whacks with a rubber headed mallet. This didn't work, so I moved on to a bit of wood and large lump hammer. Tightened down all the bolts and I was in business.
Save that bits of chrome had fallen off the headers! The pristine appearance was ruined in one fell swoop. I was in a foul mood by then, so hurled out of the drive at maximum velocity, caning the bike ruthlessly through the gears up the road. Up to about 80mph it was the fastest accelerating bike I'd ever slung a leg over. Exhilarating and grin inducing. Thereafter, its riding position and gearing slowed the rate down. It was very hard work putting more than the ton on the clock.
Despite having a six speed gearbox, it felt very buzzy in top gear. I was always trying to change up to another gear, although it would blitz along at 80 to 90mph with few complaints. There was always a slight amount of vibration but not serious enough to affect the mirrors. I was more worried by the way the riding position left me taking all the wind pressure, a terrible amount of force on my arms and neck above as little as 75mph.
Anyway, that first serious ride was mostly dual carriageway that was mostly smooth and straight. The Radian felt fine under such circumstances, only the slightest of weaves intruding as 90mph was put on the clock. With the laid back riding position doubtless upsetting the chassis I was relieved that there was no sign of the dreaded speed wobbles that I'd once experienced on an old Yam XS650 twin.
Back home I was more than annoyed to find the black engine finish ruined by the oil pouring out through the head gasket. Off with the seat and tank, maximum force on the cylinder head studs. God, I couldn't believe it when one of them started turning around and around. I looked at the engine in total disbelief that it could do that to me! If I hadn't walked away then I would have taken a hammer to the thing and smashed it to pieces.
I rode the bike like it was for about a week, determined to get some use out of the brute. After each 22 mile round trip to work, I had to put about a pint of oil in the engine. The whole motor was disappearing under a disgusting covering of sludge. Knowing what I was doing, I got the engine out and stripped down in half a day this time. The dealer couldn't believe it when I rolled up with the engine for yet another helicoil. I let him do the rebuild this time, I was so pissed with the bike I didn't trust myself.
Another day went west putting the engine in and getting the exhausts back on, not helped when I stripped one of the threads holding the exhaust flange into the head. I Araldited the bolt in, couldn't face yet another trip to the dealer. Much bashing of the exhaust was needed to stop it leaking, as before. The Yam refused to start, one of the carbs hadn't fitted properly into its manifold and was gulping in huge quantities of air. That fixed I was back in business.
With a long weekend coming up I thought I would go up to Scotland on the bike, about 450 miles each way. I took A-roads most of the way, cruising at about 70mph. The bike growled contentedly, the sun was shining and all was well with the world. Well, not quite. It was ridiculously easy to scrape the undercarriage in the curves whilst fuel was an absurd 38mpg. The seat was very comfy which made the need for frequent fuel stops all the more annoying. I did the 450 miles in one day, no problems from my backside, but my shoulders were aching and my hands a little numb, as although the vibes were mild they were insidious in nature.
There were no oil leaks from the engine, for which I was very thankful. On the narrow back lanes that filter through Scotland, the 425lbs of Radian were a bit of a handful, the soft suspension trying to bounce the bike off the road. The wide bars helped, they gave a lot of leverage, making it relatively easy to wrench the beast back on course. The whole thing was put into perspective when a little TZR125 burnt me off in no uncertain terms. Shit.
Coming home the whole trip was ruined by a massive bout of rain. I was soon soaked through despite the waterproofs - the riding position seemed to help amplify the force of the water. About a 100 miles from home, the engine started running on three cylinders. The Dunlop tyres were not very good in the wet to start with, having the power switch in and out made them very treacherous. Some fantastic back wheel slides made sure I did not nod off.
Speed was down to about 50mph, which made me a sitting target for speeding cagers. I'd never seen roads awash with so much water before. I couldn't believe it could get any worse, but the rain fell even heavier and the engine started trying to imitate a twin! When an artic ran past, throwing up a huge tidal wave in its wake, the bike stuttered once and died. Help!
I coasted to a bus shelter and shoved as much of the bike as I could inside it. Out with the WD40, which from past experience I always carried, along with a tin of Finelic, a tube of Superglue and various spanners. I sprayed the engine with WD40, waited a few seconds and prayed like hell. The engine stuttered into life on two or three cylinders, then caught on all four. Brilliant. I left the engine ticking over, hoping it would dry out a bit in the relative shelter. I pulled off the waterproofs and put on some dry clothes, everything was wet right through.
It was only a matter of time until I was soaked through again, but at least I would have a while with dry underwear. The bike stayed on four cylinders all the way home, but it was a hell of a trip with speed down to about 30mph for a lot of the time as visibility was poor and the tyres were squealing about all over the road at higher speeds. I was exhausted when I finally rolled up at the house, I doubt if any of the cagers were in the least bit envious of myself, resembling more a drowned rat than anything else.
Perhaps it was unfair, but the Radian became an untrustworthy beast in my mind after that affair. I didn't sell it then, though, as I needed something to get me back and forth to work. The Yam was not ideal for commuting, 35mpg saw to that. It could be wielded through traffic quite effectively and the searing acceleration must have convinced the race reptile riders that their machines were in desperate need of a service, so effectively were they burnt off in the traffic light GP.
I kept the bike for another five months. No serious problems, just a few minor wiring faults. I never looked inside the engine, touched the carbs or replaced any of the consumables. If I hadn't messed up the spark plug change the bike would have been supremely reliable. With just over 12000 miles on the clock I put the Yam up for sale. The response was very poor, eventually, after a month, I managed to sell the Radian for £1850. Admittedly, the finish had lost its shine and the head gasket had started to weep again. After the Radian experience I kept telling myself to look deeper than the surface shine, to keep my heart in check with some logical thoughts. That lasted for about a week.....a two year old 883 Harley Sportster at a bargain £1975 was too much to resist. The terrible cycle had begun all over again!
Terry Wilson