Chuff, chuff, chuff.....one of the more enjoyable aspects of owning a 1000cc vee twin with an excess of torque was seeing how low the revs would go in top gear. I could get right down to 1200rpm without the transmission snagging, but then the throttle had to be opened in a very, very gentle way. Just whacking the throttle open made the chain feel like it was about to leap off the sprockets. For smooth acceleration at least 2000rpm was needed. From those revs on the motor gathered momentum, until by 3000 revs things began to really happen.
With nigh on 500lbs and only 70 horses the power to weight ratio did limit the overall effect of the grunt. By the time 6000 revs were up power and torque were finished, although the engine would eventually sing up to 7500rpm. These characteristics were with an almost straight through 2-1 exhaust and an airfilter subtly modified with a screwdriver and brute force.
The 1981 bike had gained a few other modifications over nine years and four owners. I actually knew each owner, the Yamaha being passed on amongst friends when they moved on to more interesting machines, usually Harleys. No-one had really thrashed or neglected the TR, mainly, I guess, down to its friendly, laid back nature that turned a bit gruff, almost dismayed, if the 1500 mile service was neglected. The best mod was a recovered seat with a delightfully compliant layer of foam, which together with its mild riding position, made a few hundred miles in a day as free of trouble as taking the train (I think that's a compliment rather than an insult).
The vee twin motor looked like someone had cobbled together a couple of SR singles and, indeed, hints of that troublesome beast's vibration were not entirely absent. Low rev rumbling wasn't up to Norton Commando levels but taking the engine to 8000 revs would provoke a passable imitation of a Bonnie (or even Harley). Of course, it wasn't a new bike, having done 57000 miles when I took over ownership. Top gear was acceptably smooth, in that the engine movements did not fade entirely but didn't intrude enough to cause discomfort to feet and hands, between 40 and 85mph. A range of speed that perfectly complemented the frame's ability to hold a reasonably stable line.
Handling was undoubtedly aided by the recent addition of an XJ900 front end, after the previous owner had a mild prang. Hitting the side of skip whilst mildly intoxicated actually broke the forks in half! The owner survived with a mild groin bruising and a bit of brain damage from viewing the castrated TR1. He bravely managed to resist the drunken temptation of dumping the broken bike in the skip and actually had the audacity to drag me from the warmth of my bed. Well, I lived but half a mile from the scene. We must have looked a sight, each holding the remnants of the forks that were still attached to the bike (the other half and wheel were rudely abandoned in the skip) whilst pulling the reluctant TR1 through the street.
The TR1 was only endowed with the mildest of custom steering geometry, unlike the later XV1100 which looks almost grotesque by comparison, so the XJ forks and wheel looked more or less at home and did not radically change the steering geometry. What they added to the TR1's poise was tauter springing, competent damping and thrilling braking. I'd had a go on the Yam before the forks were changed, was not too impressed with forks which seemed very flimsy and tended to creak over bumps. The old disc had rotted calipers and as much fade as the poorest design of SLS drum.
The frame is a fairly minimal affair, with the engine as a stressed member most of the trellis is hidden away under the petrol tank and sidepanels. The steering comes from the relatively long and lazy geometry, making the bike, once on decent suspension, deceptively stable in a straight line to the extent that a large amount of effort is needed to twist it through the bends... at least I thought it was heavy going until I tried an XS1100, which redefined the whole business. As the XV had a lot of its engine mass low down between the long wheelbase, it felt naturally balanced making town work easier than expected. For the vast majority of the time the TR1 was great fun to ride!
Surprisingly, it was quite cheap to run, too. Fuel was 55mpg, tyres about 15000 miles and the enclosed chain hardly ever needed a tweak. Why the TR1 ended up with a chain when just about every other Yamaha vee twin had an excellent shaft drive is one of the great mysteries of life. The only time I was annoyed with the consumables was when a Dunlop tyre with 3mm of tread left kept picking up punctures - I had three in a week until the rubber was finally dumped. One of them happened at 70mph, sent the back wheel into some desperate oscillations.
One of the more amusing aspects of ownership was that it would stay with Harley Sportsters without losing a breath, even match them in top gear roll-ons between 40 and 70mph; few Harley owners seemed willing to go any faster. The only one I knew who regularly thrashed his 883 ended up with a thrown rod, a gaping hole in the crankcase and a girlfriend who swore never to swing a leg over a bloody motorcycle again.
There was little doubt that the Yamaha had a tough engine. It'd received a valve regrind at around 40,000 miles along with a couple of new camchains. The starter problem, endemic to the breed, had been fixed way back within the first two years of ownership (it involved using parts off another Yamaha, but don't ask which as no-one can think that far back, sorry!). The incident of the disappearing oil was the only really black mark in its history, pints of it flowing out of a blown seal in a mere 10 miles. The following rider who suddenly found his front wheel sliding down the road after hitting an oil slick was not too amused - a one month old Harley, but give them their due, they do have a tough chassis and the damage was only cosmetic.
Oh, there was also the case of the disappearing gears, when the engine was only working in first and fourth. It says a lot for the torque of the motor that the owner was quite happy to run the TR in this state for nigh on six months before he went to the trouble of fitting secondhand selectors. Mind you, the way he rumbled along in fourth at low revs used to shake windows in their frames and have vicious dogs foaming at the mouth.
It perhaps says a lot for my luck that at 64000 miles I ended up with the same amount of power as my wife's Yamaha Townmate (I had great fun riding this on one wheel until she caught me....) and even more smoke than the local youth who ran his TZR on open pipes and 20/50 oil. The simultaneous demise of both bores and pistons was greeted with disdainful glances by the Harley crowd, but by the simple expedient of enriching British Telecom executives and reading MCN classifieds I soon tracked down a reasonable set of barrels and pistons. They were only thirty notes plus risking my life on the back of the youth's TZR for a 100 miles. Bloody kid, hadn't yet learnt about double white lines and looking behind.
The engine proved easy enough to tear apart, although there was an excess of oil lines and the piston rings were an incredibly tight fit in the bores. Hermatite was used on the old gaskets as I'd become used to the oil weeping out between cylinder and head. The 2-1 exhaust had sprung apart when I'd removed it, I had to get a mate who weighed twenty stone (of pure muscle) to force it into the heads and even he was muttering under his breath at the sixth attempt.
The week off the road had flattened the battery so the neighbour with a car was persuaded to hook up his battery. Ahem. Fifteen minutes later he was cursing me because his battery was also flat. It was then that I noticed that the HT leads looked a bit convoluted. Damn! Swap them over, drop in my charged battery and the old darling grumbled into life first press on the starter. Pissing out enough oil from the head gaskets to put a large puddle on the drive. Yes, I had to take the engine out and put some new gaskets in!
Almost as soon as that was completed I had to do a 200 mile bash across England to sort out a relative whose wife had deserted him. I had to thrash the TR at the ton most of the way there because he was threatening to top himself. It was motorway most of the way, so all I had to do was hang on and try to ignore the hand and foot numbing vibration. The bloody relative had changed his mind, had his feet up watching the TV whilst I stood there shaking from head to foot.
Perhaps because it never had a chance to run in properly, the big 1000cc vee twin was always a bit rough after that minor adventure and I didn't really trust it again, although I kept it long enough to put more than 70,000 miles on the clock. Most of that riding was on the local lanes and hustling through the traffic to work and back. The only other problem that occurred was an ignition fault that had the engine stopping dead, refusing to start for the rest of the day. There was only a faint spark getting through to the plugs when that happened and one of the past owners recalled having the same problem which was solved by fitting new ignition coils. I tried that and everything was fine, even though they were car ones rather than originals. The TR was sold shortly after that, but to a stranger; it was becoming too dubious to sell to a friend!
Mark Tinsley