I normally avoid dealers as a source of used bikes because of the huge mark-ups charged for the dubious benefit of a warranty, but a low mileage Yam XJ550 caught my eye and after a bit of haggling I paid £750 for a bike which was just over three years old, had two new tyres, a Krauser rack and 12 months t and t.
I must admit to thinking I had a bargain as I gingerly rode home and locked the bike in the garage. Had I? I decided not, soon afterwards a new O-ring chain was needed and then the original exhaust disintegrated, especially displeasing as I had meticulously examined it before buying. I am presently training my hamster to climb into exhausts and inform me whether rust breakthrough is imminent.
A black chrome Neta was installed. I can't say I noticed any change in performance but the Neta was significantly quieter than the knackered original and the bike looked really stylish with its black and orange tank, black engine and rack. The next few months were spent whizzing around and getting to know the XJ.The best aspect of the bike is the seating position - the narrow engine relative to its peers allows footrests far enough in to give good clearance whilst low enough to allow plenty of leg-room
With lowish bars I found the bike the most comfortable I've ever owned, being both manageable around town and excellent on long, fast runs for my average build (5'8"). I can do the 150 miles between fuel stops without any discomfort and have had no complaints from the pillions. Secondary vibes are no problem, although you're always aware of the engine whirring away underneath you.
The fact that the XJ was the only bike I've ever owned that I didn't regularly thrash to see what it'd do gives an idea of how much fun the thing was to ride at relatively sane speeds. In 14 months and 9000 miles I can't recollect trying to go over 110mph, which might explain the 53mpg average (useful because of the small, 3.5 gallon tank).
The best test of the bike was a ten day tour of Ireland undertaken in early September, which was the wettest month I've ever known. Loaded up with a gaudy silver tankbag and a holdall strapped to the pillion seat, the XJ still handled okay and felt safe even in the torrential downpour, at least until the tankbag started to try to slide underneath the tank and ferocious crosswinds started up. Two hours of that combination proved only that determination to enjoy oneself can overcome many an obstacle.
Luckily, by the time I'd reached Bridgend it had cleared up and I was happy enough to zoom up the M4 to the A40 and thence to Fishguard. Along one particularly twisty bit of the A4 the headlamp decided to go AWOL. There was an intermittent fault on both main and dip which demanded frantic switching between the two, accelerating when I thought the problem gone and braking sharply when I was plunged into darkness. The sheep must have thought the farmer had slipped some LSD into their meal, being woken from their slumber by a heavily laden, flashing pogo-stick careering along.
When it was working, there's enough light for up to 70mph on unlit roads. Otherwise, the switches all worked very efficiently. Luckily, I had time to spare and there was a bright moon - I safely crawled the last 15 miles with no headlamp on and joined the queue for the ferry at 2am.
Once in Eire I soon found out that red lights were regarded as merely a mild warning that something might possibly be coming the other way, and also that the country was in the grip of a monsoon. Real Guinness is a lot different to the stuff you get here, the pubs and nightclubs are great, if expensive, fun and the people much more friendly than in the UK.
Luckily, I had a place to stay at my uncle's in Abbeyfeale and only reluctantly left there to ride to Dublin some days after my arrival. The Yamaha had to cope with more rain, manic driving and lots of twisty roads in pleasant scenery, all of which it managed with aplomb.
As always the XJ seemed to suit my temperament perfectly, being as happy with humdrum, laid back riding in town or down country lanes as it was being thrashed to the redline, two up. Power there was aplently beyond 6000rpm, but also there was enough low speed torque to make it a buzz to just canter along in a high gear. It could cruise at 90mph, albeit with little urge to accelerate rapidly beyond that speed, or murmur along at 30mph in top gear.
Back home in Southampton I had a good look at the bike. Two weeks of neglect and thrashing, mostly in the rain, had taken its toll. The black chrome on the exhaust was only visible in the very few areas that weren't caked in dirt, the wheels were a bit oxidized and the chrome bars and forks already had the dreaded spots of rust. However, this being a bike of the early plastic era and therefore easy to clean, the rest was only plastered in shit and after a weekend spent cleaning it off, it was almost as clean as before the trip.
The headlamp problem - the bulb blowing - was repaired with a new fixing bracket, apparently the one fitted was not standard and had been badly fitted, so other XJs aren't likely to have the same problem. Later on that year, I fitted an excellent Morgan screen for about £50 which didn't upset the handling one iota and made the bike much more pleasant to ride in the winter. I sold the bike after 14 months riding when I decided to buy something bigger and got £700 for it.
Handling was always good - the bike has a nice balanced feel, heavy enough not to get thrown about by bumps or winds, but not so heavy that it became a pig to push around or ride slowly in town. It could be earholed through bends without excessive muscle and if you had to brake suddenly when leant over it was still controllable, with only a slight tendency to sit up. Obviously, these bikes are getting on now and benefit from some decent rear shocks and tauter fork springs. The fork seals go quite often so gaiters are a good bet.
The engine is relatively simple - only eight valves to adjust, the carbs stay in balance for ages and the ignition is electronic. Camchains last at least 40,000 miles, and even if they do go they can be split and replaced without doing a whole engine strip (yes, I know you can do it on most fours but you can do it using a stock camchain on this one).
The motors have a good reputation for reliable service and there are some bikes around with over 100,000 miles up. There are some despatch bikes in a terrible state which keep on running. My impression of the engine was that it was unburstable. If the engine isn't noisy or smoky it's probably a good 'un.
Don't be put off by high mileages too much, as long as it's had regular (1000 mile) oil changes it should be okay. Do beware, though, of bikes with a poor gearchange, a sure sign of high mileage abuse.
Consumables are not too bad. The rear drum shoes last for so long they have the reputation for never being touched, the front pads do 6-8000 miles depending on abuse level. The discs do actually work in the wet without any of the frightening lag of some bikes, whilst calipers are more resistant to corrosion than Suzuki units and the discs don't wear away rapidly like some Hondas. The back tyre lasted for 10,000 miles, the front will do much more. The chain (O-ring) does 10,000 miles plus.
Overall then, much cheaper to run than the even more reliable but sluggish GS550 series. Maybe not as fast as a GPz550, but they are cheaper to buy and last just as long. As you may have surmised, I would recommend an XJ550 to anyone. I personally would jump at the chance of one like I bought for the same money but there aren't many offers like that around nowadays. Whichever way you look at it, on paper or on the road, the XJ550 will always have its place.
R.M.Simpson
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It all depends on what you need from a motorcycle and how much you can afford to spend. Five years ago I had 500 notes to spare and a yearning to travel. A sensible motorcycle with a bit of go and rock solid reliability was needed. The 1982 Yam XJ550 that appeared in the local paper wasn't my first choice, as I find these kind of universal Japanese motorcycles need a touch too much throttle for long distance riding.
Seven years of abuse had been confined to one owner and 14000 miles. Tarnished alloy on the engine covers, a bit of paint flaking off the frame and a rusty OE exhaust were the only signs of age. The XJ had more midrange torque than I expected and was such an easy bike to ride first time out that I decided to go for it before someone else turned up.
Not being entirely stupid I decided a few thrashes around England were in order before heading for the Continent. The most obvious discord was a seat that had sod all padding and turned my backside raw after just 50 miles. There was also a lot of secondary vibration at 90mph, through the pegs and bars, and a revvy feel to the motor that wasn't going to be very relaxing when doing 500 miles in a day.
A King & Queen seat, thicker grips and peg rubbers, and a new chain and sprocket set with bigger gearbox and smaller wheel sprockets. 90mph cruising was a good 1000 revs lower, almost vibration free and my backside was better off even than when lounging around in my favourite chair. The stock bars and pegs were an excellent compromise between slow and high speed work, only likely to cause arm strain in excess of 95mph, such speed rigorously avoided in deference to the machine's age and my still pristine driving licence.
As I was travelling solo I modified the rack so that half of it was over the pillion seat, allowing me to avoid an overhang of excess mass. The rear shocks were Koni's but sufficiently aged to be past their prime, so I put the really heavy stuff in a large tank bag.
There followed 6000 miles of excessive self indulgence in which the XJ received only two oil changes. Open road work, at speeds up to 90mph, turned in 60mpg whilst the consumables hardly seemed to wear at all. I ended up in the Scandinavian countries, having a great time with lots of new sights, sounds and sensations. The XJ was good for 300 miles a day before I began to become tired, but as much as 500 miles was done without really injuring myself.
Coming back to Blighty was a real downer, not just because of the weather. With 24,330 miles done the camchain began to rattle. I bodged the tensioner, which worked for all of 15 miles. I was really worried by the time I pulled up at home, the bike reluctant to do more than 55mph. To its credit it got me home. A new tensioner and camchain strained the budget but were necessary as the bike had to earn its keep doing the commuting chores.
The next year I was all set for a blast down to Spain, leaving the UK with 31000 miles on the clock and coming back with 39000 miles. I knew something was wrong on the return journey, fuel plummeting to 40 and then 35mpg. By the time we were home smoke was pouring out of the 4-1 exhaust I'd bought over the winter.
Hmmmmm! The exhaust valves were not seating because they were burnt around their edges. Secondhand valves and a new gasket set sorted the otherwise good engine out.
1991 was all hard work and no motorcycle fun, the XJ just clocking up commuting miles, ending the year with a rather naff gearbox action and 47000 miles. By then I had a firm idea of consumable wear. A chain and sprocket set lasted 15000 miles, rear Roadrunners 10,000 miles and front 12000. EBC pads went for around 16000 miles. A valve and carb job was done every 7500 miles, more out of paranoia than any necessity.
English winters took their toll on the finish, though, the XJ often resembling a rat bike, needing loads of patching, caliper rebuilds and excessive polishing. In the spring of '92 it began to misfire, going down to a mere two cylinders. This took an excess of effort to track down, as it usually cleared up when I tried to find the cause. Finally, when it was permanently turned into a 275cc twin I zeroed in on the coils, replacements solving the problem.
XJ electrics can turn quite malicious at high miles, as shown when my bike hit the 55000 mile mark. The cause was rotting insulation allowing wires to short out. Blowing lights and fuses were the first signs, followed by a dead battery with warped plates. Rewire time. Putting in the new battery I connected up the negative side first and then trapped the spanner between the positive side and the frame. Massive sparking as it shorted out, my mind going totally blank as I leapt back from the arcing. Eventually I got my act together by prising off the spanner before it became welded in position. The battery survived the abuse without any apparent ill-effects.
To celebrate the machine's survival I took off for Italy. What a disaster that was. The exhaust fell to piece giving the Wop cops an excuse to go rabid. At one point I was almost convinced they wanted sexual favours (Italian men being a bit infamous for that sort of thing) but a large wedge of dosh sufficed. Another wedge went on having the downpipes welded and a Ducati 'silencer' knocked on the end. It looked okay but needed fifth at 1500 revs in town to avoid more police retribution.
Then the petrol tank rusted through on the underside, leaving me astride a rolling fireball as flames flicked up from the engine. If I hadn't been wearing full leathers I would've been burnt to a cinder in a very sensitive place. The Italian cagers went berserk on their horns at the curious sight. I rushed for the side of the road and leapt off before the Yam came to a halt. Luckily, it'd been on reserve so the fuel soon ran out. The fire had taken out lots of my new wires, the fuel lines and the airfilter box. Anyway, the bike was bodged back together by another Ducati mechanic who deemed a Benelli tank suitable.
By the time I returned home to England the clock read 54000 miles and I thought our relationship was nearing an end. But the bike ran well to the end of the year and 59000 miles. 1993 saw some mild touring around the UK, including a 24 hour End to End run that left me knackered and the engine bleeding oil from the cylinder head gasket. As I had to whip off the head, a new camchain and tensioner, as well as gasket, were fitted. The valves needed regrinding and the hardening on the cam lobes was just beginning to show signs of wear!
At the end of '93 someone offered me 600 notes for the 68000 mile machine but a quick scan of MCN revealed that I would not find anything interesting with which to replace it. 1994 was a very quiet year, both in terms of mileage and maintenance chores with just 4000 miles done. Blame this on the new girlfriend who finds the whole motorcycle experience disgusting.
As I sit here writing this there are 74,231 miles on the clock and plenty of life left in the old girl (I've become used to the rattles). I've had some hard times but the good days far outnumber them. I've now got my eye on a 600 Diversion. It's that or marriage!
L.N.
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The story starts six months previously, looking through my local paper I spy the advert, my heart misses a beat. It reads - Despatcher needed for firm in York, self employed, good rates of pay. The only problem was it was sixty miles away and I had no bike. Well, to cut out the boring bits I went for an interview, got the job and he gave me two weeks to find a suitable machine to do the work on.
Two days later, after much grovelling at various banks, I secured a loan of a grand, having been out of work for some time I was dubious about borrowing more in case any mishap should occur. Ten days later, luckily I spot an advert in my local newsagents window for a 1982 XJ550. I rush around with the readies in a pessimistic mood, having viewed at least 15 bikes in various states of mechanical and cosmetic decay, I didn't hold out much hope.
Anyway, when I arrive, my eyes beheld a machine that was in fairly good order, it was taxed and tested for ten months. It had a small handlebar fairing, twin headlamp, blue powder coated frame, 33000 miles on the clock, a bald rear tyre and no indicators. After an extensive test ride on the pillion, and then swapping over with the owner, I wanted it. Problem was, he wanted £700 and no amount of bitching about chipped frame paint, bald rear tyre and the lack of indicators would bring him down, so I reluctantly coughed up the readies.
The ride home proved to be quite pleasant, the bike pulled cleanly through all gears up to an indicated 110mph on a local piece of dual carriageway. I went to bed well pleased. The next morning I got up early as I wanted to get used to the bike before I started work on Monday morning. I push her out of the garage and press the starter, sweet bugger all happens. I start to sweat and think of other ways to pay huge loans back other than from DHSS giros. I try to bump start her and luckily she fired up after the third go. I traced the fault after an hour's prat about to the starter solenoid. Down to my local bike emporium (breaker to you and I) one solenoid, a set of indicators and a part used Metz and 45 notes and I'm ready to start work.
Now, some six months on, the XJ has covered a further 34000 miles, making the grand running total of 67,824 miles. It is my only means of transport and has coped with all kinds of road conditions whilst despatching. Punctures apart, it has never left me stranded. It does the 120 miles return trip to York from Darlington every day plus a full day's despatching, which can be running around York or doing national runs anywhere in the country, that's £1 per drop in York or 35p per mile to your destination for those who are interested (pathetic I know but better than the dole).
The downside to all this mileage is that the bike is now burning huge amounts of 10/40 oil, not helped by a leaking cylinder head, knackered shock absorbers, scored discs and, the worst for me, a gearbox which has become amazingly sloppy and vague, especially when trying to engage lower gears going up hills. Also much fun was had when trying to select gear in slow moving traffic. I think this is being caused by the output shaft now being very worn and in not meshing with the input shaft and selector.
Apart from the gearbox, a most amusing electrical fault has started to make itself known, the first sign of rain the XJ becomes a single, a twin and on the odd occasion it's designed purpose of an across the frame four. I have tried just about everything to clear this problem. The dubious faults were checked first - plugs, HT leads and even a mudflap on the front mudguard. I even relocated the coils out of the way, not to mention the electronic ignition, and cleaned and pulled apart or replaced every electrical connection I could reach, but still to no avail. I now carry a large jar of Vaseline and cans of WD40 which usually clear up the problem.
The above usually happens just as I've emerged from a junction at the head of a huge queue of traffic when the engine dies, then I'm left in no mans land at the mercy of the manic taxi drivers, Jap tourists looking for York Minster, and the odd (well, really they're all odd) ped that would rather run me over than go around me (and I'm not that fat, really). I would be interested to know if other XJ owners have suffered this problem.
The riding position is good for either town riding or motorway thrashes. The engine being narrow as are the handlebars, making it good for filtering through traffic, my wife, however, says the pillion is bloody uncomfortable and vibration does eventually numb her backside along with other discomforts which are unmentionable in a family magazine.
The switches are well set out and have given no trouble, the twin headlamp is not the same, having done a run out of York to Nottingham on the return journey, on leaving the factory I'd delivered to, I had to make a particularly tight turn in the car park - I never gave this much thought until the plod pulled me on the A604 coming out of Nottingham for having no lights; news to me on the well lit dual carriageway.
Apparently, the previous owner who'd fitted the fairing had skimped on the wiring and with all the turning, the wires had stretched out of their connections. The second time this happened was on a country road just outside Beverley on the A1070 - a tight left turn and pop go the lights. I was eternally grateful to the lady in the grey Ford Sierra who wasn't fazed when she picked me out of the dark with her headlights on the wrong side of the road, twisting the bars from left to right trying vainly to make the connection to bring the candles back on. Needless to say, I soon fixed the problem.
Apart from the electrical faults occurring in the rain, the rest of the system seems to be quite tough, take note Suzuki owners. Wear and tear has also taken its toll on the performance, as I've already said top speed was around the 110mph mark, it is now down to 95mph. Exceeding this the XJ lets me know I'm overdoing it. Also, with knackered absorbers, which are EC Streetshocks, and have done a good job but are now past it, with throwovers attached and loaded she'll wallow in fast bends and weave on straights.
Petrol consumption has also been affected. When I acquired the bike she'd do 55-60mpg, which has been drastically reduced to 32-38mpg. With the XJ's tank holding only a paltry three and half gallons my pocket can't cope with the expenditure in more ways than one. It has also started to use almost as much of Halford's Best, not helped by the leaking cylinder head and surely, by now, worn bores and pistons.
I used to change the engine oil religiously every 1000 miles (that's the only religious thing about me, my wife says) along with the oil filter. Now, however, the oil has started disappearing before the changes come around, I bung in any 10/40 oil I can find. She's now consuming about a litre every 200 miles, although I still maintain that 1000 mile changes definitely help the longevity of an engine, not to mention the aid of Slick 50, which I should have used when I bought the bike. All this said, it will still run along smoothly at 70-80mph all day, certainly a credit to an ageing Jap multi.
The camchain, believe it or not, is the original, but has turned from a nice rustle to an ominous rattle. I have rarely needed to adjust this and my motto is if it's running leave well alone, which I shall do unless it becomes too loud to ignore or it self destructs, leaving me in a fleashy heap on the byways of this England, but with the mileage on this bike I'm starting to have nightmares about when it will snap.
The valves I adjusted just after purchase and they needed no further adjustment in 33000 miles, not that I've bothered to look, mind you. The carbs have required no attention whatsoever and as they do not hamper starting or performance these too have been left well alone, although like everything else on the bike they probably don't help petrol consumption.
Other consumables have been a new set of clutch plates, these replaced with 38000 miles up and are still going strong. When new, they were so good that they made my left hand and wrist swell with the pressure that the clutch lever required - certainly not a good idea for a despatcher with a lot of town work to do, not being a believer in clutchless changes, although a few were made that week. Two new throttle cables, the first snapping on the M18 due to my rerouting it down the wrong side of the frame, the second still in place.
The brakes on the XJ are the better kind to have come out of the land of the Rising Sun, being twin discs at the front and a rear drum. The front discs are really now past their best and need replacing, being very thin and scored, but they have had an awful lot of use over the past six months. Having only owned the bike for six months I can't comment what the bike will be like over the winter or what the brakes will be like. There again, perhaps the XJ won't be around then. I've used different pads but none last longer than 8000 miles, although Dunlopads go a bit longer than most and I've been through five sets to date.
The greatest amount of readies has been spent on tyres and chains. The bike came with Roadrunners. Having changed the covers for Metzelers I was a much happier man, although even with the reduced power of late rears don't last for more than 7000 miles - when they're out of tread lurid slides can be made on the twisty bits, and much buttock movement is necessary to keep on course. Front tyres go for about 15000 miles, although I find the front will still stick on course even when the tread has gone in the centre of the tyre. I've gone through four rear covers and two front.
Chain life is also pretty poor for a bike that only knocks out 56 horses and falling, even with the correct oiling, tensioning and boiling, heavy duty chains are shagged after 8000 miles; sprockets I make last twice that distance. I keep thinking about Scotoilers. The rear wheel bearings were also renewed after purchase as were the front, again both need replacing. The rear can on the exhaust is a Laser item which is also peppered with holes and is in need of replacing. I find the prices charged for these items is scandalous and I will be implementing a repair myself, which should last until she finally expires.
Which brings me almost to the end of this story which may read like a minefield of disasters but apart from the usual consumables, the bike has astounded me with the amazing reliability of the engine. Even now, with it being so worn out, it will take me anywhere I ask and it will get me there and back without complaint, with little or no input from me.
The amount of money needed to repair her is just not viable so I'll ride it until it stops or explodes. For the money I paid for it, the XJ has been the most reliable bike I have owned - no, not as good as a Suzuki GS550 but a bloody good runner up. I would recommend it to anyone - the bike, not despatching, I'd stay well away from that game.
Beeza
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The pig of a bike refused to start. The electric boot was threatening to flatten the battery. And I was threatening to go through the roof with rage. Turning up late for work was akin to asking for the sack. Nothing for it but the bump start. Over 400lbs of metal and the usual dragging discs. The back lane echoed to my screams as the motor contented itself with the odd stutter. Just as I was going to collapse, she caught. Boom, boom from the rotted through exhaust.
I screamed down the road, doing twice the speed limit to make up time. The wretched Yam had 92000 miles on the clock, had been rebuilt at least once. Didn't run exactly as the factory had envisaged. Top speed of a mere ton and ran out of acceleration at 80mph. It rattled and pinged like a good 'un.
Despite its age and evident abuse, it wasn't a bad bike...except that the starting was becoming as predictable as playing Russian Roulette. I wasn't sure if it was the decaying exhaust turning the mixture too lean. Or the rotting wiring or switches cutting out. Or the clogged up carbs. Or an act of God. All I was sure of was that I didn't like it!
Racing into work with seconds to spare, I forgot the new layer of gravel. Some arsehole of a contactor just dumping a lorry load on the car park, hoping the cars would compact it into the tarmac! The front wheel drifted for a while and when I tried to tug the bars lost it completely. The bike skidded on its crash-bars for a while then flipped over the other way. Throwing me off! Ouch.
The Yam butted into a nice shiny Merc! Gulp! The managing director's new auto. The engine was still ticking over, so I ignored the new dents, flipped it up and rode over to the corner provided for bikes. The MD later went into a rant about vandalism and stringing up the culprit. If he didn't come forward that instant we'd all take a pay cut to cover the repair expenses. Like a good citizen, I kept my mouth shut!
Going home, the Yam started first prod of the button. It must've felt like I did. Oppressive working conditions, to say the least. Just to rub salt into the wound, I roared past the Merc when it was stuck in traffic and gave the MD the finger! Laugh? I nearly shat myself at the silliness of it all. If I didn't keep the job I'd never be able to get my new Ducati 916, would I? Dream on!
The next day the Yam refused to start again. As it was Saturday I wasn't panicked but it was still annoying. As I'd been chased by two cop cars and had a brick thrown at me by disgruntled youths, I decided to fix the exhaust. I kicked the old silencers off and bunged on some pipes off an old CD175. Took a bit of bodging but I finally hammered them on. I took the baffles out as they were too restrictive. Were very quiet compared to the old pipes but the mill still didn't want to start easily.
I decided to bypass the whole of the ignition circuit and its switches. Wire the ignition direct with a cheapo on/off switch from Halfords. A brand new set of spark plugs also went in. Only just as it was easy to strip the threads in the head. A year's worth of rust was removed from the petrol tap. Bugger me if the engine didn't purr into life right off!
Happiness lasted as long as it took to ride down to London. 40 miles in thirty minutes. Slowed down by the horrendous traffic, see! I parked up in Soho, came back after an hour eyeing the hookers (good for a laugh, forty going on seventy with unimaginable, incurable diseases), I came back to find that the engine refused to start. Now f..king what.
In a nearby park a couple of kids dressed up as tramps took an unusual interest in me tearing my hair out. I looked down at the engine, had an inspiration. Tried changing the HT leads over. Bastards, had gone through all the bikes, pissing themselves with laughter at the riders trying to start them. As I looked around, I saw a couple of others having the same problem. I told them what had happened but by then the kids had disappeared.
One advantage of the XJ was that it looked so far gone no-one bothered to vandalize or steal it! One disadvantage of this in London was that the cops thought I was a DR, would go out of their way to pull me over. I didn't bother to stop as I could lose them through the traffic.
In fact, the bike was more or less legal. It was the coming MOT that decided me to smarten her up. Dealers selling old stock cheaply are a great source of bargains. For a hundred notes I was able to buy a new tank, panels, guards, seat, chainguard, fork seals and cables. Looked really smart by the time I'd done the business. Just as well that I'd changed the tank, the old one was just about ready to rust through. Nothing like good timing!
The bike sailed through its MOT, the fool of a tester complimenting me on the way I'd devoted my life to looking after the Yam. The four cylinder mill was still a source of concern. All that top end rattling and smoke on the overrun. I religiously changed the oil every 750 miles and equally reliably ignored the rest of the maintenance chores. Well, it was Japanese...I'd once done exactly the same trick with a Guzzi V50, ended up with a molten motor for my pains. The Jap's are clever engineers, you've got to give them that!
After about eighteen months of thrashing I finally had a look at the top end. Half the valves had huge gaps, the others had closed right up. A couple of cam lobes were well pitted. And the poor old camchain pulled an inch off its top sprocket. I wished I hadn't looked!
Being an optimistic fool, I decided to whip the cylinder head off. Half the valves had sunk into the head, the others pitted beyond help. There was also a huge crack in the cylinder head and evidence that it had been welded up in a couple of other places. Cry? No, but I could've taken a hammer to it.
MCN, telephone, find a couple of breakers to visit. I've never yet come across a polite breaker. Example: 'XJ550? Wot you ride one 'em for, pile of piss, sonny.' After doing the rounds, rejecting heads in an even worse state than my own, fighting with huge dogs and being insulted several times, I finally headed out of the smog. Clasping to my bosom a rather nice XJ550 head, plus camchain and tensioner. £65 poorer.
It all went together with the preciseness of a Meccano set. That is, it needed a few taps with a hammer and the torque wrench was neglected in favour of brute force and native intuition. No, no threads were stripped and the chronic head gasket oil leak was a thing of the past.
I suppose I should've fitted new barrels and pistons but I couldn't afford that. Anyway, the resulting performance wasn't in the least improved, though rattles and pinging were submerged by the rorty exhaust. About a month after the rebuild, the chassis went all loose and horrible. Ducking and diving to a whim all of its own...one of the shock's studs was rusting off! Another breaker kindly welded it back on for a tenner.
By then the bike had gone around the clock and was well past its sell-by date. I had visions of the chassis breaking up under me as I caned the bike along at the ton. A life insurer's worst nightmare! I decided I would never be able to afford the twelve grand for a new Duke, even the payments on the never-never were prohibitive. But I had almost three grand stashed - I was earning reasonable money and the XJ was cheap to run with long lasting consumables that I always bought secondhand, and 55mpg - and the Yam was worth 500 sovs.
So it had to go. No problem selling it for that kind of dosh. In its place I bought a three year old 900 Trident. A porky pig with an utterly joyous engine. All I need now is a round of weight saving, a nice alloy frame, racing fairing... The XJ550's a much underrated if rather boring motorcycle. If all you want is some cheap kicks, worth paying 500 notes for. At this age they are all a bit bruised and broken but nothing that can't be fixed cheaply. I have fond memories of mine despite the tribulations.
Roland Tramforth