I knew in advance that the 1989 K model GSXR1100 had a powerful engine in a light frame, and had read that it would wheelie in the first three gears, so I felt intimidated just sat on it. It still had the '86 model's tendency to cut out if you revved it off idle too viciously, which doesn't exactly inspire confidence.
The smooth hydraulic clutch and quiet, precise gearbox make for a pleasant start off and in town, save for the riding position (almost instant back and wrist ache), it behaves well. Even if the 1127cc engine had immense top end grunt, it was tractable at low revs.
But make no mistake, this is real race replica country. The back of the large petrol tank digs into the rider who is strected over its length, grasping the low clip-ons, whilst feet are left high, a way backwards. Great pose value, for sure, but anyone who just uses the bike for running up and down High Streets will have to indulge in some serious wheelies or tyre spinning to forget the bodily pain the GSXR's extreme riding position inflicts.
The spartan look and feel of the GSXR reflects it relatively low mass for a 1100cc, 140hp monster. It's nearly as light as the heaviest 600 race replica, thanks to a combination of alloy frame and clever engine design. Suzuki, long exponents of ultra reliable four cylinder tackle, ignored the blandishments of water cooling in favour of aiding and abetting air cooling by pumping the oil through a large radiator. As GSXR engines are generally reliable in road use, where it's extremely difficult to thrash the balls off them, the saving in mass has done nothing to diminish longevity or wacky power output.
On the open road it feels different. Due to its short wheelbase and steeply angled forks, coupled with its powerful engine, it feels like being sat upon an experimental gyroscopic toy, such is the interaction between acceleration and steering geometry. In third gear, it pulls like hell from 5000rpm. In no time at all, on a road that was clear at first, cars kept getting in the way. Coming from the joys of a GS1000 and GPz1100, both reasonably powerful bikes in their own right, I had not expected to have to radically reconsider the way I rode due to the vivid, blistering manner in which the GSXR ate up the road.
It was just as well that the bike was fitted with very powerful, albeit slightly spongy, disc brakes. In the first few days of ownership it became clear that no more than 7500rpm were needed for scintillating, if not dangerous, acceleration. Such was the motive power, that whole batches of cars could be dismissed with hooligan ease. By the time I was used to the acceleration from 5000rpm and thought I could handle the bike, another burst of power from 8000rpm was yanking my arms out of their sockets and filling me with paranoia that if I copped a speeding ticket it would result in an outright ban, so damn fast was the bike shifting. The fact that the riding position only really made sense with at least a ton up would not go down too well in the local magistrate's court.
The most I've seen on the clock is 135mph, achieved, two up, with effortless ease. I doubt that I shall ever see the 160mph the bike is capable of. And, anyway, I wasn't that inspired by the stability.....The K model was much slagged off because of too stiff suspension. It does feel top heavy at low speeds and it does oversteer. When circling a roundabout it tends to turn in and has to be corrected. I'm often unsure how it's going to react to a corner - sometimes it goes around beautifully, other times it is very ragged.
With all that power, it's very easy to make the back wheel step out and trying to control a bike coming out of a bend with the front wheel pawing the air is more than a bit disconcerting. The low mass and short wheelbase do mean it's a lot easier to flick through a series of bends than older superbikes.
The frame matches the engine in being slightly old fashioned. Because the latter doesn't tilt forward radically as per the FZR, the frame has to take on the same kind of shape as the old tubular designs, not an ideal layout when constructed from aluminium. Carrying extra weight on a shorter wheelbase, when compared to the earlier model, and yet having to control even more thunderous power, means the GSXR is an inferior back road bike to the earlier model. Word is, the ideal solution is to put the '89 motor into the '88 chassis.
The Michelin radials don't help at all. They never feel that they are going to grip (although they do) and the bike feels awful in the wet. Just thinking about whacking open the throttle in a low gear in the wet is bad enough. Wheelspin? I bet the damn thing would spin right around and fishtail off up the road. These are fat tyres on state of the art 17" wheels as opposed to thinner tyres on 18" wheels on earlier bikes. My Metzeler shod GS1000 felt much safer! If you need to ask about tyre wear you can't afford it.
With a riding position that needs speed to generate wind pressure to relieve body weight off wrists, it can sometimes be a most disconcerting bike to ride at legal speeds. Far from arriving refreshed and exhilarated, this bike could reduce you to a nervous wreck.
It has negligible steering lock. Don't try doing a U-turn in the road with a passenger aboard unless you're very good at low speed manoeuvring. There is no centrestand, only a sidestand, little room for throwover panniers and no bungee hooks. Servicing of things like air filters and spark plugs requires half the bike to be disassembled, although like most Suzuki fours it's possible to clock up high mileages with little more than regular oil and filter changes.
Owning this bike has still left me undecided about what I think about it. I love the styling but would prefer a four into one exhaust instead of the standard four into two to get the bike's weight down from 464lb to the earlier bike's 434lb. The bike is obviously very fast, so fast that I'm often worried about cars throwing themselves in my path - even if they see the GSXR, they can't to realise just how fast it can eat up distance. Something, admitedly, that aids safe overtaking in other circumstances as it's all over in a blink of an eye without resort to frenzied gearchanging. Grunt happy!
I've hankered after a race replica for years, yet now I own one I feel guilty in the presence of riders of older styled machines. I imagine other bikers thinking ‘rich git' (which I'm not, I bought the bike as a one year old for £1100 less than the new price after part exchanging the GS1000 and GPz1100) or waiting to race me, leaving me with inadequate feelings for not scraping my knees on the road and beating off all challengers.
You can carry hardly any luggage and have to lug around a huge lock to deter joy riders. Its lack of access for simple, routine maintenance is another part of the price paid for ownership of a race replica.
My girlfriend preferred the pillion perch on the GS1000. Only on motorways was she relatively happy. The sharp acceleration and deceleration elsewhere had her hanging on to the grab rail like her life depended on it; which it probably did. The stiff suspension jolted her feet off the footpegs over rough going. A GSXR can be hard on passengers!
That suspension is replete with a great deal of damping and springing adjustment. Sound in theory, I suppose, in practice it means it is very easy to set it up wrongly and once I achieved something that responded reasonably, I was loath to play around with it again in case I made it a lot worse. Ideal for race track use, but too complex for normal road riders.
Funny, isn't it? You spend years wishing you could have a rapid bike like the GSXR then when you've got one you can understand why other riders are happy with British twins, BMWs et al - little chance of being banned, easier servicing, cruising instead of racing everywhere ......maybe I'm getting old (32)! For all that, I'm keeping the GSXR!
Dave Vincent
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When I informed my mates that I was going to buy a tourer they did not believe me. I must mention that my mates, to a man, are YPVS fanatics. When I expanded on my needs a little more, specifying a high speed tourer, they were a trifle less distraught that I was not going to replace my RD with another wailing stroker.
A week later I saw an advert for a six month old 1987 GSXR1100 at a very low price for the time. The bike had 7000 miles on the clock and close inspection of the machine revealed that it had not yet been dropped. An all too brief excursion up the road revealed loads of low end grunt and an ever so big wallop in the kidneys when I let loose with the throttle in third. I handed over the cash on the spot and rode the machine the five miles home to my abode.
The GSXR probably ain't everyone's idea of a high speed tourer. I was attracted by its 440lbs dry weight and its blitzing performance....I assured myself that at the high speeds I planned to rush across Europe the low clip-ons (a massive, body disfiguring stretch over the wide petrol tank), rear-sets and hard seat would make good sense.
After a week riding the bike I had decided that the Suzuki was near impossible to use for any length of time in crowded towns. True, its across the frame four cylinder, air and oil cooled, engine provided plenty of low rev power, its gearbox was a delight save for an awkward and heavy clutch and it was light enough to manoeuvre easily, but that riding position left me feeling like a very old man after only 15 minutes in traffic. My wrists, thighs and back all hurt like hell.
I also found that blitzing along the motorway offered little by the way of compensation. Even in fifth gear there was little that could stay with the Suzuki, my mates were left with startling rapidity. There was no real reason to rev the balls off the engine through the gears, although the blissful exhaust wail was worth the effort. Torque there was aplenty. Stability was lacking, though. Much beyond 80mph a disconcerting weave set in and past the ton the weave turned into a two lane wobble. Winding on the steering damper until the forks would barely turn when stationary helped quite a lot once past 90mph, but turned the 80mph weave into a very frightening wobble.
Crouched down low so that the fearsome air blast off the steep fairing screen actually went over my head rather than trying to shake my helmet off, allowed an easy 150mph on the clock. I have had it up to 160mph which is probably a true ton and a half. At that kind of speed the handling felt very queasy, as if it was running on deflated tyres and loose suspension. Both the forks and single Full Floater shock needed to be turned up to their highest settings to achieve any kind of handling integrity.
Backing off suspension settings produced really wild wobbles, so I had so suffer a very harsh ride. Placing a large girlfriend on the pillion saw a further degeneration in stability, although the excess weight had no discernible effect on performance or braking. The latter was provided by a single rear and twin front discs. The forks had a very effective anti-dive that was strange at first but I soon became used to it. The brakes were to later provide some very frightening moments.
After a month and 4000 miles of GSXR1100 ownership I was left with mixed feelings. It was certainly a buzz to ride (quite literally with the amount of vibes that got through) but it had gone through one new set of Metzs, a chain and sprocket set and two sets of disc pads. It also needed a carb balance every 2500 miles to stop the engine going off tune - I bought a set of gauges to do it myself, but it's very tiresome to set all four carbs up perfectly; adjusting one changed the settings of the others.
This consumption conspired against a blitz on Europe. The last thing I wanted to do was spend precious time maintaining the engine or chasing essential consumables. But when one of my RD mates sold his bike to buy a GSXR, there was no backing out. The kind of trip we had has been written about in the UMG several times before, so I won't bore you with the details. It lasted for a month and we did over 15000 miles in that time, rarely doing less than 500 miles of high speed excess each day.
There were several problems. The first was being chased by French police. We were doing 110mph at the time in a 60mph zone. As the fine would've probably taken all our money, there was only one thing to do - 150mph! We both almost fell off the bikes, taking bends on the wrong side of the road, getting the suspension all crossed up and the brakes so hot the discs glowed a lovely red. We lost the police and decided to leave France that very night, just in case.
After that, both discs on the front of my bike made a terrible clacking noise and didn't work effectively. The discs were warped.....I did a further 12000 miles with them in that state. When I got back to the UK the wheel bearings and calipers were also dead meat, but I got lucky with a breaker who swapped wheels, discs and calipers for £75. Some unlucky bugger probably bought my wrecked stuff off him.
We were running along at insane speeds, trying to keep the speedo the wrong side of 120mph for most of the time. The vibes buzzed the tank, bars and pegs, the skimpy alloy frame doing little to absorb the secondary vibes of the ultra short stroke engine. This left fingers and toes dead to the world after about an hour. It took the same time for the seat to go rock hard. What with the riding position, when we levered ourselves off for a fuel and fag stop, we looked like AIDS victims who had spent an evening being poked by Arab terrorists. We had little choice but to subscribe to the stiff upper lip school of resilience.
It says a lot for the adaptability of the human body that after the first ten days, most of the pain went away. One epic, 1250 mile ride through Germany in twelve hours left us elated, although my head was still buzzing with the exhaust wail and vibes the next morning. After a really heavy day like that we took the next day off for rest and recreation, treating ourselves to some pure piece of self indulgence as a reward. Such was the impact of speeding across Europe on our souls, after an idle day we were desperate to mount the bikes and speed off again.
The GSXR's vibes did occasionally do nasty things to bits of the chassis. My mate lost his numberplate, leading to a narrow escape from incarceration by gun totting Spanish plod. My headlamp bulbs kept blowing with such an annoying frequency that we tried to avoid riding at night; a pity as main beam from the twin headlamps was a revelation, although car drivers coming the other way were not too amused when we switched to dip which was still set up for the UK.
We had also worked out a wheelie take-off routine that was very flash. At least until my mate flipped his bike right over and my clutch started to rattle ominously. It started with 22000 miles on the clock but didn't need replacing until 34000 miles, by when we were safely back in the UK. Apart from the horrendous cost of consumable replacements, few other problems with encountered on that European trip.
Coming back to the UK and the boredom of work every day was a real downer, the only thing that saved me going mad was roaring around on the big Suzuki. I had put 35000 miles on the clock as winter approached and was pondering whether I should take the bike off the road and buy a sensible little commuter, saving the GSXR for the summer madness to follow. I decided against that, I needed the wildness of the bike too much to put it off the road for three to five months.
If the Suzuki entered the winter of '88 in good shape it wasn't too happy by the time spring came around. The exhaust had become very noisy and rattled so much I was surprised it hadn't fallen off. The calipers were seizing up all the time. The fairing was cracking around its mounting bolts, as were the sidepanels. The general appearance of the Suzuki was very tatty. I knew some serious attention was required when the main fairing bracket fractured. The ten mile ride home was very amusing, with a huge bit of GRP dancing up and down in front of me. Luckily, that time I didn't see any police cars.
Most of the engine was covered by the fairing so I didn't bother doing much to that. The wheels were taken out, blasted and painted with good old Hammerite. The fairing, tank and panels were handed over to a mate in the car trade, who did the whole lot in BMW pearl white, after filling in cracked bits of GRP. While I was at it, a Ohlins rear shock and stiffer forks springs were acquired from a source too dubious to go into here. A breaker handed over an original 4-1 exhaust as I had heard strange stories about other makes and yet another set of calipers.
A set of Pirellis completed the transformation. The new suspension was certainly worth the effort. The bike still felt twitchy at speed but most of the wobbles had died down. The meaty Pirellis held the road as well as the Metz's but appeared to enhance the feeling of security. This was later proved when I switched back to Metzs, some of the weaves and wobbles returning. The bike was well set up for '89, then.
The IOM was the obvious proving ground for further delinquency. Its lack of speed limits appealed greatly. The ferry journey proved only that you have to suffer to experience elation. The dubious handling of the GSXR was shown up by the bumpy bends and straights over the Island, but I still had a ball and avoided falling off. Some bikers went past as if I was standing still, but quite a few of them were later passed having overcooked it and eaten tarmac. A huge quantity of beer was drunk, it was the only way to get to sleep in the crappy accommodation on offer.
One race with another GSXR will always stick in the mind. We were evenly matched in skill but he was evidently a little crazier than myself, judging by the way he took to the gravel strewn side of the road on a few occasions. Both machines went into identical wobbles when they leapt off the top of hills, the front forks waving about maniacally. My superior rear shock kept the back end glued to the road whereas his skipped about under both braking and acceleration. We roared into Douglas together, happy enough to call it a draw.
The mileage in '89 wasn't so great as the previous year, the mileometer clicking up 53,400 by the end of the year. The top end of the engine had become a bit rattly, although the sixteen valve head required little attention, unlike the carbs, and I began to wonder if the camchain or tensioner were on the way out. When the exhaust started spewing out white smoke a month later I took the machine to the local mechanic. Two exhaust valves were slightly burnt out, he reckoned down to the time I had run the bike on a rotted exhaust. The tensioner and camchain were fine, the former automatic in action and not touched since buying the bike.
1990 was to be a year of high mileage. My job meant I was on a training course 125 miles from home. It was an almost straight motorway blast, so commuting daily on the Suzuki was the obvious answer, especially as I was being paid a large hotel allowance. The bike averaged between 30 and 40mpg depending on abuse, so even if eight gallons a day were needed I would still be making a nice profit.
Unfortunately, it was a very wet February to April. The skimpy fairing does little to offer much protection to the rider from either rain or cold. I ended up wearing two heavy duty wet weather suits. The water often got through the first but under the second I kept warm and dry. The only problem was that I looked like the Michelin Man and could barely walk once off the machine.
Traffic was not too heavy and every day my goal was to do the run in under an hour. I often achieved this, although it needed 150mph on the clock as often as possible. After the previous abuse my body had suffered from the tortured riding position and vibes, I was all but immune and could do an hour's blitz with impunity. What with weekend fun in addition to long distance commuting in that three months I did over 20,000 miles, with 75000 miles plus on the clock. I was almost making weekly visits to the local tyre depot!
The rear wheel bearings were making a weird crunching noise. The rear disc had seized up. The Full Floater linkages were loose enough to poke a finger through the bearings. The front forks were pitted and sloppy and......and the engine was still growling away happily, putting a truly extravagant amount of power on the tarmac. Another pile of dosh was spent putting the machine back into good order.
My friend's GSXR had expired, not through engine seizure but by its owner falling off spectacularly on diesel on a motorway bend at about twice the proscribed limit. The owner walked away from the crash with just gravel rash, much to his and my (I was behind him and had time to dodge the diesel) amazement. The bike was scattered over three lanes of highway and there was nothing I could salvage from the remnants for my own use.
The ride home with him on the back was very subdued. The pillion perch is not all that uncomfortable as race replicas go, but the chassis wasn't very happy to have sixteen stone hung off the back and I kept having visions of the way his GSXR had let loose and self destructed itself so efficiently. One thing about the alloy frame, it's not very resistant to crash abuse - good if you don't fall off as there are lots in breakers for cheap spares. That along with the minimalism of various brackets (to keep the weight down) had meant when his machine hit the deck the whole lot exploded into lots of bits.
Perhaps I was getting older, or just wiser, but as 1990 came towards its end I found that I had lost my lust for speed. The GSXR started to misfire badly below 3000rpm as if in protest against my reluctance to thrash the balls off the engine. The electronic ignition unit had some loose connections down to corrosion (amazingly, the machine was still on the original battery!). Unfortunately, the poor connection had evidently done something to the innards because it didn't improve after repair. A visit to the breaker sorted that.
With 89000 mile on the clock and 1990 about to turn into 1991, the anti-dive locked up solid. Riding around with a rigid front end was okay as long as you didn't do more than 20mph. I was tempted to trade the bike in for something more sensible, but nostalgia got the better of me. A FZR1000 front end was persuaded on by a mechanic friend. This didn't do much for the handling, though, the forks wobbling at the merest provocation and a real 100mph tank slapper resulting the first time I tried for the ton.
I took this as a sign and decided to ride the bike slowly, as I had intended. Up to 80mph stability was fine, but the riding position was all wrong. A set of clamps that allow tubular bars to be fitted were ordered from the States for an exorbitant amount, the fairing ditched and a big headlamp fitted. The slightly raised bars transformed the bike in town and on back roads. I realised then how much pressure the previous riding position had put on me to ride like a mad bugger.
It was in this milder form that I rode the bike for most of 1991. I am happy to report that in September of that year the bike passed the 100,000 mile mark. It celebrated this feat by losing power, clattering and smoking like a stroker. Yep, the top end was on the way out again. This time it was ruined camshafts and the camchain finally deciding to call it a day. I put the bike in the garage and went out to buy a brand spanking new CBR600. I felt a bit of a traitor swapping marques and was at a bit of a loss for the first week, until I realised the Honda needed to be thrashed through the gearbox like a 125!
I haven't given up on the GSXR yet. I intend to fix the bike up again and use it purely for fun. Its most impressive asset is obviously the engine - a tougher litre plus motor I doubt you will find. That, together with its relatively light mass, make it one hell of a bike. I just wish Suzuki would put the same bike together in a similar layout but with a more sensible riding position, like that which I had achieved.
Mike Howell
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I had been playing around with fast bikes for a long time. The craziest one was a turbo-charged Z900. After that experience I was both lucky to be alive and twitching for more and more speed. It gets to you after a while. A small inheritance meant I finally had the dosh to buy something thoroughly modern. It was pretty obvious, reading the tests, that a 1993 spec Suzuki GSXR1100 was the business. Almost every used one would have the restrictors, between carbs and engine, removed, liberating an incredible 135hp at 10,000rpm!
Top speed was rumoured to be a mind warping 175mph. I had to have one, ended up paying £5750 for an eight month and 4000 mile old job that was in near immaculate condition, including a new set of Dunlops. The only scar on the external surface finish was some of the transfers starting to fall off. Rather naff on a new machine that cost over £7000.
Had I been very young I would have gone manic over the cost of insurance but it was merely extortionate for this ageing juvenile delinquent who in the past 15 years had never made a claim. I didn't buy fully comprehensive as I'd always gone for TPF&T in the past and saw no reason to change just because I was buying a nearly new bike. Anyone buying one of these bikes should suss the insurance cost before committing themselves.
The engine was entirely new, replacing the old oil-cooled mill with a watercooled job, but in a similar pattern with a short stroke, four valves per cylinder, DOHCs and a massive 11.2:1 compression ratio. The motor sounded surprisingly quiet, the watercooling absorbing the noise rather than intensifying it. Just revving the mill I had the impression of fantastic build quality.
With a dry weight of 510lbs, and a rolling one of 550lbs, the GSXR weighs as much, even more, than many of the old retros but that mass doesn't intrude, does a rapid disappearing act, when the throttle is rolled open. I thought my turbo Kawasaki was eyeball popping but the GSXR was in another league. It was stronger at the top of the rev range than the bottom, probably down to its extremely short stroke, but the overall initial impression was of an incredible fury emanating from the motor.
I was used to clip-ons and rear-sets, so the Suzuki's riding position didn't come as too much of a shock. The seat was reasonable but the tank was too wide and the footrests too high for my long legs. It wasn't the kind of bike I'd want to take despatching in Central London but on the open road I could survive for an hour or so before I felt a desperate need to stretch my legs.
The running gear was surprisingly good with high spec upside down forks and a rear shock that was so brill I never bothered playing around with its damping or springing settings. The forks were also adjustable, but the past owner was the same weight as myself, so the bike was set up perfectly. It's possible to radically change the suspension settings, but they were set up nicely taut whilst retaining the ability to soak up the worst of the bumps. If I'd changed them chances are it would have mucked up the excellent handling; so leave well alone.
The alloy double cradle frame has survived several different interpretations in the GSXR series, earlier models suffering from a combination of poor geometry and suspension that made the bike a bit of a wobbler. Suzuki seemed to have got it pretty right in this incarnation as there was little I could find to complain about in the handling ability. It made the Z900 feel like a real camel in comparison.
It needed some re-education on my part, as I was able to brake deeply into bends, a concept that would've torn the forks off the old Kawasaki. It would flick from one side to the other with uncanny ease and lean over at incredible angles without the slightest whimper from the tyres. I kept finding that I could go through my favourite bends faster and faster. This was Grin City.
Town work was often a horror story. The low, wide bars were terribly placed for getting through gaps between cars and put a huge amount of pressure on my wrists. The bike didn't need any foot-happy action on the brilliantly slick gearbox as it'd roar forward whether it was in second or fourth, so was in that respect an easy ride. But after ten minutes my whole body was complaining about the cramped riding position and my neck felt like my head weighed a good 100lbs.
The brakes were delicious. Twin discs out front, with six pot calipers that were as sensitive as the best drum in the wet when gentle braking was needed but phenomenally powerful when it was time to get desperate. They would make the front tyre howl on occasions. I once did a stoppie, the back wheel a good yard off the tarmac, when Joe Wonder in a Jag did a sudden U-turn as I was overtaking a car. I hit the horn at the same time as I grabbed a wrist wrenching handful of brake lever. I stopped about an inch from his door, this ancient jerk snapping his head my way with terrified eyes popping out of a porcine face. He looked moments off cardiac arrest. Quite made my day.
It was perhaps this heavy braking that wore out the front pads in 7000 miles. There's no way a bike like the GSXR can be ridden on dodgy brakes. I toddled off to the local Suzuki dealer and nearly hit the roof when he wanted £89 for a set of four pads. Come off it, mate, I said and was told I could take it or leave it. I left it, but found that the pattern pad makers hadn't yet got their act together. I tried another dealer who was willing to hand over a set for £79.95. Not having much choice in the matter I handed over the dosh. I can just see some hard up kid running one of these bikes on worn out pads because he doesn't have that kind of dosh to spare - stupid, stupid, stupid. I can't see why any set of pads should cost more than a tenner.
The engine had needed nothing more than regular oil changes. I did them every 2000 miles instead of the recommended 3500 miles because I was riding in town quite a lot, not really getting the machine up to a proper working temperature. The oil filter was relatively cheap at £7 so I didn't begrudge putting one in every other oil change.
With 10,000 miles on the clock the carbs were out of balance and the vibes were attacking the plastic at most revs. I let a dealer do them for £30 which cleared up the vibes and brought back the seamless surge of mind blowing power. Sometimes I'd just find an empty stretch of road, play with the throttle in fifth gear. The power didn't really hit with total fury until 110mph was on the clock, 150mph coming up with ease - you have to get right down on the tank to avoid the fierce wind blast off the low screen - charging ever onwards until I chickened out at 170mph.
It makes very long straights incredibly short and you have to think one hell of a lot quicker than on most bikes. There's no time for day dreaming or idle thoughts on this bike, it's all furious action. It's quite forgiving, though, as the brakes will strip off speed and the chassis will absorb a lot of foolishness, that on some of the older Japs would result in an instant tarmac bashing.
This feeling wasn't shared by any of the people who I took on the pillion. There is a grab-rail for them to hold on to, but they reported feeling very precarious, being almost thrown off the back under acceleration and barely avoiding head butting the back of my helmet every time I used the brakes. One woman who I'd been gently trying to get out of my life was never seen again after a 100 mile blitz during which I rode like a total lunatic.
The only person it failed to faze was the resident lunatic who could more normally be seen mono-wheeling an outrageously tuned Suzuki 750 triple. He ended up standing on the seat waving his other leg in the air. As he had a death-grip on my neck there was no way I could chuck him off the back. The cops who pulled us over probably wished they hadn't bothered. My mate, screaming insanely, ran off before we came to a proper and orderly halt. The plod vehicle roared off after him leaving me with little reason to hang around. I later learnt that he made good his escape by leaping into someone's garden and hiding in their shed for half an hour.
I don't know if it was his weight or the abuse resultant from having put 14000 miles on the clock, but the plastic sidepanels had started to crack around their mountings. I had carefully pulled off the stickers as there was only half of them left - if you want them to last a long time don't jet-wash the Suzuki. Something that's hard to avoid with minimal mudguards and a chassis that seems to attract muck like a magnet attracts steel.
At this mileage the O-ring chain was finally becoming troublesome, needing attention every 50 miles rather than the 300 to 400 miles when it was newer. I didn't even ask Suzuki their prices but was a bit miffed when I realised that a new sprocket set was needed as well. Oh well, the price of all that hard charging power and wild riding.
Fuel was also atrocious, 25 to 30mpg when the engine was in fine fettle, about 20mpg when it was in need of a carb balance. Even mild riding, not even getting into the heavy power, would not get it close to 40mpg. Unlike many of the big retros the GSXR didn't have the option of riding it in an economical mode.
I was on my fourth set of Dunlops, but I wasn't tempted to try anything else as they had brilliant feedback and stupendous grip. A couple of times I hit a patch of diesel, had my heart in my mouth for a few moments, full of fear that the whole 550lbs was going to let loose. But the tyres seemed to grip over the most dubious surfaces and the bike didn't have time to even twitch let alone slide off down the road.
The last time I checked the pads I found a bit of oil seeping out of one side of the upside-down forks. The seals are positioned to pick up a lot of road crud, although there is a half-hearted attempt to protect them with the mudguard flange. The forks don't seem to have lost any of their damping or prowess but I will not be amused if I have to put some new seals in at such a low mileage.
That just about sums up the GSXR. It's a fantastic fun machine, but the race replica touches, necessary admittedly if you're going to ride at ton plus speeds for any length of time, make it a less than practical tool for most of the time. Every time I begin to curse it, I reach for the throttle, give myself a dose of the blinding acceleration, revel in the top notch handling or play silly buggers in town - it's a brilliant pose machine that attracts the frails even better than a Harley. You need a lot of dosh to buy one, an incredible amount to insure it and still more money to keep it in consumables but at the end of the day, when I reflect on all the joy I've had, I think it's worth it.
John Williams
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One of those priceless sensations is the first time a big bike is used in anger. Even though I expected blistering acceleration it still came as a stupendous shock to the system. The motor just kept on knocking out the power when by any sane account I'd expect it to begin tailing off. The hard edged exhaust note was the stuff of the race track and only the radical riding position kept the front wheel on the ground, if not inhibiting the GSXR from looping the loop.
Suzuki had a uniquely crafted aluminium chassis whose main problem was excessive height rather than any lack of strength. Over the years several rather futile attempts at improving the geometry and weight distribution were made, resulting in high speed antics that bore more than a passing resemblance to a camel about to drop a load. My two year old machine had a White Power rear shock and a fork brace of Forth Bridge dimensions, which with the suspension turned up so high that small bumps caused the wheels to patter, was both supremely stable and even confidence inspiring, given the Suzuki's excessive power and girth.
Within about an hour of hustling the GSXR had become an old friend that allowed me to get away with murder on the open highway. I just loved the way the machine would surge forward, regardless of choice of gear or throttle position; a heady mixture of torque and power not usually seen this side of a Sherman tank!
Cruising speed was really just a matter of to what extent I wanted to defy the laws of the land. 100mph was just like ticking over in top; 125mph had the engine coming into its stride; 150mph would come up without any strain from the engine although I was thankful for being both slim and lithe, able to get down behind the plastic.
Beyond 150mph I did not venture, the road action was already at a ferocious rate that tested my reflexes to the full - cars really did seem to be charging backwards at me. 150mph is another country, another realm, where both the brakes and tyres have to be spot on to have a hope of responding satisfactorily.
There were some circumstances where the GSXR reacted poorly at high speed, although it already sported 56000 miles of abuse when I bought it, which might explain some delinquency in the stiff suspension. Singular bumps it would shrug off with at most a mild twitch but a series of closely spaced bumps hit at, say, 130mph would set up a weave in the chassis whilst the suspension tried to catch up with itself. In the normal way of things the weave wouldn't have been too disturbing, but at such high speeds the slightest loss of poise threatened to escalate out of all proportion to its nemesis and I held my breath in anticipation of a final wobble of mammoth proportions... luckily, it never came but the threat of it was enough to make me treat high speed work with the respect it deserved.
The bike would also shake both ends coming out of bends under hard acceleration......bear in mind that the power delivery was squirming the back tyre and sending the front end light; a set of circumstances that I doubt any other bike was capable of handling better, though the all up mass of 520lbs undoubtedly put the whole chassis under a lot of extra stress. Using a taller gear and gentler right hand was sufficient to eradicate this disturbing trait.
General stability was good, the bike feeling well put together in the eminently useful 70 to 100mph speed range. Any long distance work was restricted by the riding position, the seat and the secondary vibration. The clip-ons were not quite as extreme as some others but didn't really work below 70mph, too much wrist and neck strain resulting from sensible town riding (I say sensible because it was dead easy to find distraction from the lack of comfort by going mad on the throttle). The seat became sheer agony after fifty miles - I tended to stand up on the pegs for a few minutes, a sight so fearsome that cagers almost drove off the road. The secondary vibes could munch away quite fiercely at the chassis at certain revs, there being a mismatch between the dynamics of the large four cylinder engine (after all, it's car sized) and the aluminium frame.
Despite all these afflictions I often did a few hundred miles in a day, using the overwhelming fun factor as a major distraction from any lack of comfort. Er, officer, I needed to do 125mph to allow the suspension and riding position make some sense.......2000 points, five years in jail and £10,000, mate - to be honest, I was never pulled over as the couple of times I had a cop car on my tail I just let loose with the throttle, but you have to keep the back end of the bike permanently encrusted in dirt to obscure the numberplate. Under that kind of fear inspired riding, the GSXR showed it had the goods, responding almost instinctively to my mad antics. It was always nice when its race bred characteristics shone through, it's got to be the closest you can get to a race bike with lights on it! I'm only surprised that the insurance companies haven't black-listed them!
Taking of which, I actually caught a couple of thieves trying to break the shackle lock that was securing the bike to someone's railing. When they realised I was watching them, they scowled, muttered something about succeeding next time and sauntered off down the road as if they didn't have a care in the world. There was no way I was going to be a hero because they were 20 stone louts with arms that bulged like a Sumo wrestler's. I couldn't get over how casual they were, though, and almost immediately bought an extra shackle lock and an alarm system.
Now, I don't know if it was coincidental or not, but a week after fitting the alarm, the fuses started to blow and the battery went dead. Suzuki don't have much of a reputation on electrics but I'd hoped they had learnt their lessons by now. I kept going for a month by fitting new fuses and charging up the battery but eventually I was left stranded miles from home with completely dead electrics.
I now realise that at the first sign of trouble I should've investigated the cause and fixed it. Either the rectifier had blown or the alternator had shorted out (one causes the other to go) but by the time I'd been collected by the AA and deposited back home, not only the charging side of the circuit was blown but also the electronic ignition, which was not overjoyed at being fed 50 volts of alternating current. The only easy part of the electrical rebuild was obtaining an exchange alternator, the other bits took ten days worth of phoning around breakers - a comment on the likelihood of their demise!
Whilst I had the bike apart I decided I'd better check the valves, but with 73000 miles on the clock they were still within tolerances. The carbs, by contrast, needed a balance every 2000 miles when I changed the oil and filter, not wanting to take any chances with a bike of this mileage. The speeds I was doing I wouldn't have liked to experience a seized motor, though for road use it's almost impossible to really thrash them. Race work can throw the rods, burn out the valves and wreck the clutch (mine rattles quite a bit at tickover but hasn't started to slip yet). As long as the bike's only been used on the road the chances are that the engine will be the least of the worries.
The brakes caused some problems for me over the winter. It was the old caliper rot story over salt infested roads. Pads only lasted 4000 miles (I did punish the brakes) but I found I needed to strip and rebuild every 2000 miles to maintain their excessive power (one finger stoppies!) and good feedback. I think after they seize up the first time, and a bit of wear gets into the components, then the rebuilds do become much more frequent than for a newish bike that might do 15000 miles before they need to be touched. Again, it's the race track heritage, where function rules over practicality.
The tyres - I liked both Metzelers and Pirellis - were also short-lived, the back could be ruined in less than 2500 miles if I was feeling really vindictive with the throttle, although under mild abuse, like the front rubber, it could go for 4000 to 5000 miles. Don't even think about running one on bald or cheap rubber. Not unless you want to spend the rest of your life as a dependant of the NHS.
Some quite large expense involved in running one of these high speed bullets (fuel was 35 to 50mpg and maintenance costs low, so it wasn't all bad). That comes with the territory, the GSXR1100 is an entirely honest motorcycle - what you see is what you get - and it's churlish to complain when it costs more than a Metro to run. Any doubts I have about the Suzuki's viability are removed the moment I hit the throttle in anger!
Steve Drew
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The GSXR1100 rattled over the rough country road but held its line. From my precarious perch on the seat, it was a bit like being kicked between the legs by a pack of enraged trannies. The throttle was to the stop in third, by the time I made it into fourth well over the ton was on the clock. More speed meant a smoother ride and less weight on my hands. The 1100 would've been the defining experience of discomfort had I not once owned a GSXR750. But even that training ground had failed to toughen up my body.
The five year old GSXR1100 seemed in fine fettle. Wheelies without too much effort, slick gearbox, brain numbing acceleration and okay directional stability. The latter the easiest clue to checking if the alloy frame had been bent. The owner lived in the middle of the Pennines and had insisted I take the bike for a good test run, as it was something of an acquired taste. Understatement of the year, that!
But buy it, I must. For over a year I'd been dead sensible, courtesy of a nice VT500. And bored out of my head! I know the basic motorcycle experience has a lot to offer, but once the race replica scene has been experienced and enjoyed there's really no going back to the sane world unless confiscation of licence or limb parting accident intervenes.
I gave the Suzuki a celebratory wheelie when the deal was done. I knew the engine was tough enough to take it. In fact, there was such an excess of power that it was almost impossible to cane the motor into an early grave. The only way to do it, to run the mill on an empty sump. If the bike does a wheelie then in all probability the engine's in good nick.
The chassis is harder to suss. It's got a bit of a wicked reputation for throwing the bike into a speed wobble without much warning. This makes high speed test riding quite interesting! Turn the steering damper on to its highest setting and pray. For a lot of the time, though, it gives an impression of being finely honed, the embodiment of a high speed missile.
There's no reliable way of predicting when and how it's going to let loose. Sometimes it'll go wild on newish tyres and a smooth road. Other times it takes a rough road, heavy pillion and worn tyres to make the thing try to twitch into oblivion. My feeling is that there's too much stiffness in the alloy frame and too much top heavy mass waiting to let loose. Playing with the suspension settings and types of tyres makes no difference to the sheer unpredictability of the wobbles.
Having said all that, it has to be borne in mind that weeks can go by without much trauma and that it's one of those bikes that has to be ridden hard everywhere. Usually, I'm battling along at 20 to 50mph faster than I'd normally consider safe and sane, the GSXR not making much sense until there's at least the ton on the clock. If you want to be sensible don't buy one of these bikes as they will just do your head in.
A reasonable cruising speed's 150mph, as long as you're willing to mould yourself into the bike - there's one hell of a hurricane coming up and over the screen. Such madness kills licences dead in short order. The only way around that's to forget to register the machine in your name and not stop for the cops. I've been chased a couple of times but there's no way the pigs can stay with a flat out GSXR - what with the bike's ability to blast through high speed gaps in the traffic and do illegal turn-offs without much bother.
One reason for speeding everywhere's that it takes my mind off the lack of comfort. The riding position's a touch more upright than the old style GSXR750 but nevertheless a literal pain in the butt, shoulders and wrists at speeds equivalent to a flat out VT500. Long distance runs done at high speed are tolerable for a couple of hours but even with frequent fuel and fag stops, more than 400 miles in the day has me doing a reasonable impersonation of a totally insane hunchback. I kid you not, at the tender age of 32 I've piles that a sixty year old could be proud of! Damn motorcycles - it's not just the Eleven that's to blame, a whole series of highly entertaining but unsuitable bikes litter my past.
If anything, pillions have an even tougher time of long distance riding. Stuck up above the rider, they have to contend with a massive wind blast, as well as a saddle that would have most vintage fanatics all bow-legged and nostalgic. It takes a very dedicated babe to stay the course, most of the fat mama's that I know demand I buy an equally obese Harley or even a cage. Bung 'em the train fare and meet them at the destination is about the only civilised option I can think of. A pretty poor show, all round, but I did find one girl who was just as addicted to speed as myself and who used to urge me on to greater and greater excesses. Such women are extremely rare and much sought after in the motorcycle world - I lost her to a turbo Blade owner!
Of course, it's mighty foolish of someone to buy a race rep like the GSXR thinking they are going to end up on a bike that can match a Goldwing in the tourer stakes, but if the bike had better ergonomics to match the monster power then it would surely be a vastly superior device. One popular route towards such a nirvana is to dump the fairing, fit a handlebar conversion kit and upright bars - a street fighter in other words. The only thing to look out for on such devices is that the conversion hasn't been necessitated by crash damage. They can be a fine bit of tackle, often at very reasonable prices.
Although my bike had done 58000 miles, it still thundered out the power via its noisy 4-1 and blitzed most other machines on the road. Where its age showed was in the need for frequent, 750 mile, carb balancing sessions. Neglect that, first the whole bike would be hit by horrendous secondary vibration, then the performance would degrade to the point where wheelies were a lot of damn hassle. Balancing four worn carbs is a lot of finicky hard work but worth the effort. Incidentally, even with perfect carburation, secondary vibration could be felt at most revs but unlike some big fours it didn't do any damage to my extremities - go figure!
The camchain rattled a bit from cold but once the motor was warmed up quietened down to an acceptable level. The valves still managed to stay within tolerances for huge mileages; often they are well neglected with the occasional burnt out exhaust valve. On 4-1's, the carburation is difficult to re-jet correctly but fairly obvious in the stuttering during the test ride. It's possible to burn out both the clutch and electrics but both are, again, pretty obvious.
Cracking of the alloy frame, even the wheels, can occur at high mileages - usually when the rider's been doing silly things like charging up pavements when leading an assault on the local pedestrian precinct. Bikes that have been raced are a different matter, with even the motor suffering from such niceties as broken con-rods - it's possible to pay three grand for a GSXR with an engine on the way out and a frame that has been poorly welded! Take along someone who knows the breed.
Having moaned and whined somewhat, the bottom line remains that the bike is ecstasy in motion, a mind blowing flood of power in a chassis that always surprises. If you find a bike like this boring, you're in big trouble, mate!
Simon Lee