Running in: The dealer assured me the Yam would become easier to start once everything had bedded in. Took me ten, or more, body wrenching kicks to light its fires. Worse still, the motor would often stall at low revs. Apart from that, just using up to 5000rpm there was enough torque to make life interesting. The chassis was lithe, the brakes frightening in their power and the style drew the crowds. Fuel worked out at about 65mpg.
500 mile service: Suspected the dealer had done nothing to the motor as there was still some banging in the exhaust on the overrun. Tightened up the exhaust clamp, checked the valves and changed the oil myself. The latter didn't look new. Increased the tickover to 1500rpm which stopped the cutting out in town.
2500 miles: Did a full service. Starting improved to five kicks when I replaced the spark plug. Needed to do that every 1000 miles. Fully run in, the SRX would do 110mph with confidence inspiring stability. Went out of my way to find country lanes through which I could flick the Yam. Fantastic fun. Fuel hovered around 55mpg.
4750 miles: Vibration increased noticeably. Before it had been smooth up to 80mph, now more than 70mph put Bonnie-like vibes through the chassis. Think I'm going to suffer from White Fingers. Changed the Jap tyres for Avons, the former became very slippery in the wet. Avons lasted about 12000 miles, which is all I got out of the O-ring chain.
6000 miles: The valves were way out when I checked them and the engine bolts slightly loose. Had to change the engine oil every 1000 miles to stop the gearbox from going imprecise. Vibes had not become any worse but not impressed with the balancers in the SRX motor. Fuel went down to 50mpg and it's started consuming a little bit of oil between changes. Begin to think the engine's starting to wear out already.
7500 miles: Suspension at both ends has started to feel loose. The lovely taut feel of a new bike lost. Front brake pads almost down to the metal. Probably from my wild antics during daily commuting sessions. Rust has broken out on the silencer and a bit of paint has fallen off the frame. Could probably claim on the guarantee but have kept away from the dealer since the first service. Can't complain, though, as I got a huge discount off the RRP as they couldn't shift them back in 1988.
10,000 miles: The SRX seems to have settled down nicely now. Finally mastered the kickstart; a first or second kick affair. Celebrated by doing a 2500 mile tour around England. The Yam ran like a dream but at the end of each day I cursed the hardness of the seat. The riding position never bothered me in town and was fine out in the country. Just have to save up for a new seat.
13500 miles: Disaster! The mill started smoking heavily. Had to crawl home at 20mph. Stopped twice by the cops complaining about the dense fog left in its wake. The Yam is a light motorcycle but not one that I'd want to push ten miles. I thought the rings had gone but turned out to be burnt out exhaust valves. Got lucky, found a good set in the local breaker. He told me their demise was quite common. A new set of top end gaskets cost more than the valves!
15000 miles: Starting very difficult, engine running rough below 5000rpm. Couldn't find the problem. Local back street mechanic has a good reputation - took him ten minutes to find the cracked carb manifold. Thought I might have damaged it when I fitted the motor back together, but, no, same problem at 40,000 miles.
19000 miles: Forced to replace the rear shocks and swinging arm bearings. Handling had become really degenerate. Ah, that was much better, almost as good as new.
22000 miles: Vibes started to become quite vicious at high revs and there was some thrumming all the way through the rev range. Every time I tried to put more than 90mph on the clock the engine felt like it was dying a death. I was in danger of being burnt off by Honda Benlys! Oil was being run through the engine at a litre every 200 miles. Became so disenchanted with the SRX that I gave up doing any maintenance or even oil changes. Appearance was getting quite close to that of a rat.
24000 miles: Tried to sell the SRX before it blew up but there were no takers. Not surprising with the heavy exhaust fumes and noisy engine rattles. Bought a hundred quid C50 to do the winter commuting chores whilst I took the motor apart and cleaned up the chassis. The engine needed a new piston and rebore, plus camchain and valve regrind. Bought most of the bits secondhand but took two months to find them all. Most of the SRX's in breakers were there from engine blow-ups rather than crashes. Had to run the engine in for 500 miles again.
28000 miles: I wasn't sure if it was worth buying a whole new set of consumables or flogging off the bike. The rebuilt engine was only good for 90mph and returned a mere 45mpg. Decided to keep the bike as the C50 blew up and it seemed to be pretty reliable.
34000 miles: Wish I had sold it now, the piston's gone again. Luckily, the bore is okay, so I splash out on a new piston and rings. Hopefully, they have sorted out the quality problems.
38000 miles: More expense, the forks are worn out with an excess of juddering and the discs are wafer thin. Reasonable items were found in the breakers. The calipers have only needed to be rebuilt the once, perhaps because they get a clean-up every time the pads are replaced. Decide it's about time the original sprockets were replaced as well. Don't really enjoy riding the Yam any more. Not enough speed and too many minor niggles.
40,000 miles: The police keep pulling me over because of the bike's (and mine, I suppose) rat appearance. One officer became really irate when he couldn't find any mechanical faults and started to rip off the seat. He was wheezing with the effort when he finally gave up. I never did get around to replacing the saddle, but then I just started using the bike for commuting rather than touring.
43000 miles: A friend with a new spray gun insisted on testing it on the SRX. Rather than strip the Yamaha down to its component parts we used newspaper to mask out all the bits not sprayed. He forgot to mention that he only had bright purple paint. At least the cagers can't say they don't see me coming.
44000 miles: The silencer finally fell off. I wasn't too upset, the SRX has one of the ugliest exhaust systems in the known universe. I bodged together a replacement out of several old bits of exhaust that I had in the garage. The engine won't run below 2000rpm and the bellow at 5000 revs is music to my ears.
44500 miles: It's an unfair world! The altered carburation put a large hole right in the centre of the piston. Oops. Newish piston and proper exhaust system from the breaker. The gasket set had doubled in price. Greedy bastards. I can now get the engine out of the frame and down to the crankcase in under an hour!
48000 miles: The clutch went bang and put bits of its drum all around the engine. I cleaned out the mess, put in a replacement and hoped that no permanent damage had been done. The motor went back to needing five kicks to start and won't push the weaving horror show to more than 80mph. A local youth on a CD175 enjoys burning me off!
51000 miles: The engine is still running, just, but the amount of vibration put out indicated that the crankshaft is probably on the way out. The whole machine has a feel of being at the end of its natural life. I could probably bodge another 10,000 miles or so out of the thing by scouring the breakers for parts but it doesn't seem worth the effort. The local Honda dealer offered me a thousand notes on a trade-in for a new CBR600, which is proving mighty tempting...
G.H.K.
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A very nice looking SRX600 for £995 from the local dealer. 22000 miles on the clock, all bright and shiny. The only bad part was the need to kick it into life. The salesman huffed and puffed for ten minutes, summoned the mechanic who got her going after five kicks. I had a quick blast around the car park and couldn't find anything bad to say about the big thumper. Would they take nine hundred for it? Yes, but no guarantee and used fifty pound notes, please.
Two days later the deal was done. I knew something was up when everyone came out to watch me kick her into life. 15 minutes later I was gasping for breath, swearing my head off and beginning to see double. The mechanic came over, gave the bastard a nonchalant kick and walked proudly away, leaving me astounded that the motor was indeed running.
I've owned a couple of Jap 250 singles in the past and didn't have much problems starting them. I tried various techniques but to little avail. A cold engine just didn't want to start. Various clever sods who reckoned they could start a Panther or Gold Star even on a bad day when they were bleary eyed from a night on the town, came and failed! The only person to fire her up was Big Brian, a strapping lad, even bigger than the mechanic, who kicked the SRX into life after a mere four kicks. The answer to the starting appeared to be brute force!
My solution was the bump start, which was a great physical effort despite the lack of mass, the three discs dragging (although they were plenty powerful enough). I perfected this technique quite quickly and the neighbours and work mates soon gave up watching my antics when it was obvious that I wasn't going to fall over.
The SRX ran fine everywhere except in slow traffic where it seemed to overheat and then go dead. In reflex I always thumbed the area where the starter button should've been, sighed deeply and then went wild on the kickstart. There was no knowing if it would start on the first or tenth kick. If it was the latter then various sorry souls in cars would become overexcited at the delay and I, already enraged with the Yamaha, came close to hitting someone several times.
A high tickover speed helped a little but it did put a lot of vibration through the chassis despite the presence of a balancer system; the bike felt better at 75mph than 15mph and it wasn't the kind of thumper that revelled in an excess of torque. I also found the clutch a bit vicious, leading to stalled engines and much irritation in the early days.
Ever the optimist, I assumed that these problems would clear themselves up as the bike grew used to my tender loving care and sympathetic nature. Then it started raining. Oh my God. I thought I was going to meet that Harley rider in the sky. Vicious brakes combined with terminal misfiring to produce massive slides and near misses with suitably alarmed cagers. The SRX could turn on the proverbial dime and had some useful engine braking but I found wet weather riding to be very exciting, to say the least.
I went back to the dealer to complain about its nature. I know I'd agreed to forego a guarantee but I thought he might at least point me in the right direction. First he offered me a £400 trade-in on a CD250U, the kind of bike that made me want to throw up. And, anyway, the one year old machine was about six hundred quid over the odds. When I refused this offer he told me to f..k off and stop wasting his time.
I spent the next month trying to get to grips with the Yam, spending a small fortune on WD40, brake fluid, pads and a new set of Avon tyres. It was better but far from my idea of fun. I sold the bike for £475, a massive loss but I felt relieved. I'd almost laughed out loud at the emaciated new owner who looked like he wouldn't be able to start a C50. I went back out to see why he was still there, ready to offer a push.....he had torn the wiring out of the kill-switch, smilingly told me they went much better once it was removed. I gave him a superior grin but was left open mouthed when he started her first kick and waved goodbye.
Harry Boroughs
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Profoundly disturbed was how I felt after my first ride on the SRX600, that a friend had kindly allowed me to borrow for a couple of hours. The '88 model had newish coil and HT lead to aid easy starting and I found it no more difficult than an old Bonnie. First or second kick was the normal effort, without any fear of a kickback.
No, what had caused the chaos in my brain was the state of the traffic and the way the cars tried either to kill me or ignore my existence. I hadn't been on a bike for the last ten years and was shocked by how the density of the traffic had changed. I was thankful for the excellent disc brakes, which stopped us from hitting the sides of cars too many times to note.
The engine was a peach between 2000 and 8000 revs, running on an excess of torque regardless of which gear I was in. However, below 2000rpm the motor would occasionally cut out, making me go for the kickstart. By a strange quirk of design, it was more difficult to start hot than when cold, sometimes needing five or six kicks. I suspected that the spark plug was oiling up slightly.
About three weeks later I had the chance to buy the 22000 mile example of Yamaha's engineering. I persuaded myself that I'd soon become used to the machine and that my mate wouldn't rip me off. 600cc's is a big lump for a single but Yamaha has fitted an effective balancer system that drowns out a lot of the buzzing. It's not perfect but after a few weeks the vibes faded into the background. I was warned, however, that any ancillaries had to be well built, my friend going through a couple of non-standard mirrors and horns which were literally destroyed by the pulsing.
Only on very long runs did the vibes come back to haunt me. After about three hours, hands, feet and bum were all going numb and a full day in the saddle left me unable to hold on to the ignition keys and doing a funny walk that would've won me an award, or at least a round of applause, had not I rushed into the house before anyone saw me. Thicker rubber grips on the bars and pegs made a major improvement but I never got around to replacing the seat. I should've done something about it as comfort was not brilliant, my backside saved by the well thought out relationship between pegs and bars.
That was just as well, because sat correctly I had a reasonable chance of soaking up the bumps. I don't know what a standard bike's like, this one was almost as stiff as an old Ducati. The suspension wasn't stock, my friend weighing sixteen stone against my mere 10 stone. He'd gone to the trouble of fitting gaiters at both ends and assured me that he'd recently greased the mono-track bearings and fitted taper rollers in the headstock.
If the ride was hard, harsh at times, it was also very precise, allowing me to steer the 375lb machine with an accuracy that allowed a fast pace both in town and out in the country. This precision, maintained even under heavy braking, allowed me to carve up erring cagers with an ease that must've convinced them I was some kind of super hero. The steering wasn't as light as you'd expect from the thumper layout but any excess of effort was more than compensated by the stability.
Complementing the chassis was an engine that churned out the torque and made an inspiring noise (the exhaust was drilled to make it freer flowing). Some might consider it loud, but at least it stopped pedestrians from walking out into the traffic in front of me. One time, after I'd done a bit of a drag race in second up the High Street, I glimpsed a cop shaking his fist, red faced in his rage. I pretended to ignore his existence but did the decent thing, modulating the noise by the simple expedience of selecting a taller gear.
The Yam wasn't expensive to run. 60mpg, low wear of the consumables and only a bit of oil consumption between 2000 mile changes. Some of that was down to the smooth and steady way I rode. I particularly took care of the way the clutch and gearbox interacted not wanting to destroy the chain with the single cylinder engine pulses. My friend had already gone to some trouble on this score, after a chain lasted for only 4000 miles! The engine sprocket was larger, giving taller gearing as a bonus (if you're not into wheelies or mad standing starts), the chain a high quality O-ring job and the engine breather redirected to a spigot on the chainguard. He reckoned a chain life of 12-15000 miles.
Top speed might've been as much as 110mph but I chickened out after 90mph. On a naked bike that was more than enough for me. I didn't feel happy holding 80mph for any length of time, the booming exhaust causing flocks of sea-gulls to soar into the air. I caused similar problems in town, with the odd canine coming out of nowhere, trying to take a chunk out of my leg. One time I almost fell off at the sight of a monster dog dragging along a little old lady, whose feet were pummelling away like something out of a cartoon. I got out of there before either could take vengeance.
My most pleasant memory of the SRX was a perfect autumn day with the sun shining bright, bike and I rolling through the Cornish landscape with hardly a car in sight on the narrow country roads. We weren't going fast but it was the way I felt at one with both the Yamaha and the countryside; a delightful blast that lasted for almost the whole afternoon. Big thumpers are great if you're not into excessive speed.
The most disturbing time was when a HT lead was breaking down in the wet. I didn't realise what was happening at the time. Just had my heart trying to leap out of my chest as the power surged in and out on treacherously wet road surfaces. The back wheel flicked out a foot or so but the chassis was so good that it always came back in line. As soon as I could I pulled off the road, the engine immediately going dead!
I cursed myself for stopping in the middle of nowhere. After about twenty kicks (even with the decompressor, hard work) the mill caught half-heartedly and I went wild on the throttle to keep it running. Moving off, I nearly died a death when the engine cut out just as an artic thundered down out of nowhere. He swerved so violently that the whole rig shuddered, threatened to skid off the road. Another five miles of sheer insanity before I could pull into a garage. A can of WD40 was bought, sprayed over the motor and allowed me to make it home in one piece.
Winter really annoyed me. The bike ran okay (once the HT lead and coil were replaced) but it was so cold and wet I couldn't believe it. Every time I rolled up at work I was an object of ridicule, with quips about my coming via Siberia and much hilarity after I stripped off four layers of clothes and clamped myself on to the nearest radiator. Handlebar muffs ruined the looks but at least allowed me to work the controls in the depths of winter.
Another effect of poor weather was to completely ruin the previously immaculate finish. I couldn't understand how alloy could corrode and paint fall off so rapidly. Don't mention the disc brakes to me, either, they turned intractable as the calipers began to seize up. A demise amply testified by the screeching noises and fading power. Ever tried to take brakes apart with frozen fingers in the back yard? I bet their designers have never had that pleasure.
Spring was full of bounce but I'd ridden out my yearning for motorcycling. Yes, a terrible admission but after that winter I felt I'd aged by about ten years. I felt nothing but contempt for summer bikers and didn't want to join their ranks. I'm afraid I started looking for a sports car with which to invigorate my love life - the one time I took a female pillion she ranted and raved about the minimal nature of the seat. She insisted I stop in the middle of the countryside so she could have a piss. Five minutes later she came screaming out of the bushes, reckoning a snake had tried to get inside her knickers. The fact that I was laughing like a lunatic for the next ten minutes didn't go down too well. Don't even think about taking someone pillion on a long tour.
The SRX600's a good motorcycle if your needs are moderate, and the engine's quite tough (not out with 33000 done when I sold it). Its naked nature makes it a bit trying for old duffers like myself.
Jack Clark