A 1976 Yamaha XS650, one owner, 45,500 genuine miles and more or less original, seemed a good deal for £450. The big vertical twin mill was still oil tight and it roared into life first lunge on the kickstart (the owner warning me that the electric boot was as likely to mangle the crankshaft as start the engine; not to be used under any circumstances). Short of leg, I was relieved by the low seat height of the Yam but a little worried by the thought of picking up nearly 500lbs if it should crash to the deck.
I let out the clutch and roared off up the street. It went where I pointed, the front end giving a nice, secure feel. The twin discs didn't produce much stopping power until I clenched the lever ruthlessly when the front wheel locked up with a head turning screech. Oh well. The rear drum was wonderful in comparison, controllable right up to the point of locking up the wheel.
The engine felt good, bags of low speed torque meant I could get it up through the notchy gearbox and just dump it in fifth until I needed to stop. Neither throttle nor clutch needed much by way of muscle to control them. The even blat of the exhaust made it sound like the BSA twins of my childhood, although the primary vibes from pistons leaping up and down together were not that apparent. A slight tingling through the bars once the rev counter went past 5000rpm was all that disturbed my calm.
The 654cc OHC vertical twin puts out a modest 50hp, good enough, I was to find on my first stretch of motorway, for an indicated 110mph. Acceleration to 95mph was good, a nice whack in the back, thereafter it was just a matter of holding on to the flat bars and waiting for speed to build up. A mate's GPZ500 was able to stomp on the big Yamaha with ease and disappear off into the distance; that's what ten years of progress is worth!
I really was not happy doing more than 80mph. At that speed the bike was comfortable and felt relaxed; I was once able to do 800 miles of Continental touring in one day without any problems. Up to that speed it still felt stable and secure, but going beyond it put me in doubt as to its handling.
On a few occasions something upset the stability with the speedo hovering around the 90mph mark, producing a very bad weave. Invariably, backing off the throttle and reducing speed induced the usual feeling of security but I often had the sensation it was only moments away from doing something really nasty.
The chassis was also very susceptible to the make and state of the tyres. I found Avon Venoms to be the best compromise between grip and wear, although even these only inspired fear and loathing once the tread was down to 3mm. On a couple of occasions I had the front wheel swept from under me on damp roads with the inevitable spill producing much blood and guts. Damage to the rider and road was usually much greater than to the machine which is so well built that I often felt I could drive straight through cars.
A set of Venoms go for about 9000 miles before the chassis becomes very twitchy indeed. I only get 6000 miles from a cheapo chain but the sprockets are those that came with the bike, and for all I know original. Chain adjustment is needed every 400 miles to avoid a really nasty amount of driveline lash. At the best of times the gearbox can only be described as loose. Old oil and a knackered chain make it impossible to engage gears with any certainty - a sure sign of a low mileage engine is a box that does a clean change between second and third, the most difficult change to achieve without a false neutral intruding.
The finish on the cycle parts was excellent, even after 15 years the tank and sidepanels were still on the original paint which showed no signs of rust and was only slightly dull. The wheel rims were alloy and, like the engine casings, polished up well. The chromed guards rusted through around 60,000 miles and were replaced by black plastic items.
Despite the mass of the machine I soon found I could throw it through traffic jams with the kind of ease more normally reserved for C50s. It could be held in second or third gear, the engine's stomp allowing it to out accelerate various tin boxes, its exhaust roar clearing a path before me. One officer pulled me over after nearly falling off his BMW when trying to pursue me through an ever decreasing gap - I think he left the boxer's cylinder head covers embedded in the converging vehicles. I got off with the usual warning and a promise to keep under the 30mph limit (some hope).
I was also cursed by a plod in a Transit van for creeping up on him in the dark with just the pilot light working. The front bulb seemed to blow all the time, first main and then dip, although I never had to touch the pilot or back light. Some improvisation with some old inner tubing helped a little, but I was able to get a 10% discount for buying bulbs in bulk quantity! I have lost count of the number of times I lost the tiny screws that hold on the headlamp rim, eventually devising a quick release system that dispensed with them.
All I did to the engine for the next 30,000 miles was change the oil when the gearbox became particularly full of false neutrals. I didn't even bother to change the spark plugs. It showed no signs of its age or this abuse, save that once of twice it refused to start. Removing the kill switch from the electrical circuit and rewiring in the ignition direct off the battery solved this problem.
The motor had sounded a bit rattly when I bought the machine, but I had listened to a few other engines before and they had sounded just the same. It seems to have become no worse. It's one strong motor, with four massive main bearings, a huge crankshaft and gear primary drive; all the neater for using a wet sump design without the yards of plumbing and separate oil tank on British twins. Many XS650s have done over 100,000 miles without even a rebore or new camchain, so don't be put off by high mileages.
The chassis is tough as well. The only real problem area is the front disc brake. These twin discs have the usual caliper rot problem and even when set up perfectly there is still an appreciable wet weather lag and a lack of feel. Pads only last about 6000 miles and fall out once down to the metal! The frame paint also falls off after 55000 miles, which is about the time the original silencers decide to turn to rust.
A used Dunstall 2-1 was acquired for next to nothing, went straight on after being struck with a few hammer blows, lost some weight and seemed to pack in a bit more of a punch at 5000rpm. Alas, this only lasted 10,000 miles before it too succumbed to the dreaded red disease.
The original downpipes were cleaned up and modified to suit a pair of Bonnie mufflers (circa 1968) which I had hanging up in the rafters. Much to my surprise, these produced a bonus in low rev power output without needing any carb adjustments, whilst fuel consumption improved from 45 to 52mpg. The Yam is perhaps unusual in that economy stays the same regardless of how much throttle is employed! The XS now sounds like a Triumph which produces much confusion when I visit British bike events.
In fact, I have a BSA Thunderbolt with a seized motor in the garage and have spent some time assuring myself, with a tape measure, that, yes, the XS650 motor will fit into the frame. That could make an interesting combination, superior British handling and braking with the ultra reliable Japanese engine. The BSA Owners Club would doubtless issue a contract on me, but they would never be able to keep up with the Yamasa.
Overall, then, the XS650 is a very usable motorcycle with a soft motor that lasts for ages, only spoilt by an excess of weight and slightly dubious handling at speeds above 80mph. I've had two years of most enjoyable motorcycling out of mine, done three long European trips without a hitch and can, if I wish, flog it off at a nice profit. But I'll probably keep her for a bit longer and may even do the BSA project.
Steve Illingsworth
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What can you do when someone offers you a 1981 XS650 Custom for £200? Quite! So there I was with this heap of recalcitrant alloy and steel in the garage, trying to figure out why the engine wouldn't fire. Plenty of sparks and fuel getting through but no engine noises. The motor was suspiciously easy to kick over, so a few days later I borrowed a compression tester.
A few weeks later I had finally prised the cylinder off the engine cases. The ten year old motor had bolts and screws that were either seized in or ruined their threads when I tried to undo them. The pistons, rings and bores were a real mess of congealed alloy and steel but the crankshaft sat solidly enough on massive roller bearings. New pistons, rings and rebore plus gaskets added up to nearly a hundred notes.
The OHC engine went back together with nary a moment of concern. The clock read 28000 miles, but I had no idea how realistic this could be. The good condition of the other engine components were nothing to go by, XS motors renown for usually flitting past 50,000 miles without any problems.
Electronic ignition had been fitted somewhere along the line, which may explain how the motor howled into life first kick.....the electric starter just made an awful racket rather than turning the mill over. Usually with rebuilt engines it takes a whole day to persuade them into life. Soon settled down to a 1250rpm tickover which put a flurry of vibes through the chassis that would have any Norton owner far gone on a wave of nostalgia.
The rest of the bike was in a reasonable state, a bit of surface corrosion that soon cleaned up and a set of tyres that had cracks in the sidewalls which were replaced by a set of Avons. The first ride revealed a surprisingly secure feel as we pottered through the Basingstoke traffic. Bags of power in the 2000 to 5000rpm range, which was as high as I was going to take the engine until I'd done 500 miles of running in.
The vibes didn't exactly disappear but they were not so furious as at tickover. The front brake didn't seem to work at all but the rear disc could lock up the wheel and there was loads of engine braking from the rorty vertical twin.
Considering its low cost, I was rather pleased with my purchase. Did the next 1200 miles without any problems, gradually opening up the motor until I was using the full 7500 revs. 5000 revs was the equivalent of 70mph in top, with useful acceleration on hand up to about 95mph. However, come 80mph the secure feel of the pseudo chop began to fade away, replaced by weaves that could quite suddenly turn into vicious wobbles.
Also, once past 5000 revs the vibes began to intrude.....the bars and pegs were rubber mounted, not too badly afflicted, but the petrol tank between my legs thrummed away like it was about to split in half by the time I'd persuaded the wallowing walrus up to an indicated ton. The windblast and strain on my shoulders soon persuaded me that there were more appropriate ways to ride the XS.
I soon experienced my first problem with the Yam, the disintegrating exhaust syndrome. As soon as I patched up one hole in the silencer another appeared. Before they had a chance to join up I fitted a slightly used Motad 2-1. So mildly tuned was the XS650 that there was no need to do any carb mods and no discernible difference in power delivery....... although I rather liked the new burble of the exhaust note.
The five speed gearbox often redefined the definition of recalcitrant. It wasn't so much that it threw itself into false neutrals but that it would clunk and grind away so nastily that I had little idea of how much progress through the box I'd made. I often ended up in one gear higher or lower than I'd been aiming for. Prodigious rear chain wear could make the change even worse.....a hundred mile spin necessitated a chain adjustment.
Luckily, there was such a wide spread of power that the engine could be dumped in third or fourth, with little need to make frantic changes. I could often waltz through town in third doing little more than playing with the throttle to back off speed or accelerate. Along with the upright riding position it was a very relaxed commuter that cut a dash through the fuming cagers.
The reluctant front brake turned out to be pads down to the metal and fluid that looked about a hundred years old. Easily fixed had it not been for the caliper drain screw stripping its thread. I Araldited it back in, but god knows what I will do next time around. Thus resurrected the front brake was fine in the dry but suffered prolonged delays in the wet. I had to rely on sliding the back wheel and shuffling down through the box with a dead throttle when the going got desperate.
Further braking problems were encountered, 6000 miles down the road, in the depths of an English winter. The back disc started juddering, sounding like the pads had fallen out. They hadn't, it was just the rear disc breaking up. By the time I got home, the disc was all jagged edges that had lacerated the caliper. For a while I rode without a rear brake; pretty deadly in the wet. Took a month to track down one in the breakers.
I had done a service to the motor every 2000 miles. Easy to work on, with carbs that never went out of balance and valves that only required a slight adjustment. The rear tyre lasted a mere 7000 miles. I could only get a 120/90-16 instead of the 130/90 one fitted.....made the weaves much less pronounced, the bike feeling stable up to 90mph before any nastiness set in. Also, in the 5000 miles done so far it seems to hardly have worn at all.
Brake pads don't go for much more than 8000 miles and I've had cheap if new chains last for only 4000 miles. Took a couple of links out of one chain only to have it break on me 50 miles down the road. Wrecked the chain cover but, luckily, didn't punch a hole in the crankcases. There are times when it doesn't pay to cut corners. Fuel consumption has been disappointing, refusing to do better than 50mpg. In fact, consumption remains constant however the throttle is used.
Other expense has come from the vibes causing things to break up. The rider is much better insulated from the shakes than some components. The Motad silencer started to crack up and dissolved when a welding torch was pointed in its direction. An old Brit mega was hammered on to good effect. I've lost two indicators, which blinked in such a random way that it wasn't much of a disaster; I'd already been practising my hand signals. There were other bits as well, but nothing that actually stopped the XS in its tracks.
I don't know how much an effect the vibes had on the electrics but there were two occasions when the machine caught alight. Cabling breaking up and shorting out. Luckily, hurried application of my gloves to the offending area subsumed the fire. The wiring was a great mess but too much hassle for me to attempt to fix.
The XS is afflicted with the usual corrosion problems. Fork seals last about 2000 miles due to the pitted state of the forks. The engine alloy is so mottled that it does not respond to even the most fervent polishing. The same goes for the wheels. Chassis paint and chrome are surprisingly good.
The engine, with 41000 miles on the clock, still feels very solid, almost bullet-proof. Strangely, I've talked to a couple of owners who had initial piston problems at low mileages and after it was fixed had years of reliable service. They are spirited rather than fast bikes, which is all you want and can expect from a custom style machine like the XS. I've done month long tours on mine, revelling in the laid back way it will eat up the miles at 60 to 80mph. The XS has always got me home from far flung destinations, which I guess is more than you can expect from a bike that has yet to cost me 500 notes and is so old that most people wouldn't bother.
Alan Flowers
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The XS650 engine shares the same bore and stroke as the BSA A65. Make of this what you will, I just mention it in passing. The XS also shares with British twins a sexy looking engine that excels in its functional appearance. It also sounds good with the same fruity bellow as a good Bonnie. I've been told by some irate pedestrians that the 2-1 exhaust was rather loud but I just pretended to be deaf and ignored them!
Less easy to ignore was the high speed handling. The simple answer to this was to stick to below 75mph (still sufficient to annoy Harleys) which had the secondary effect of enhancing engine longevity and preserving my marital tackle (from the excessive primary vibes above 5000 revs).
I'd subtly modified the frame with a rewelded headstock to give a touch of extra rake and added three inch longer forks in my lifelong ambition to be the Peter Fonda of Chelmsford. This did nothing to aid the stability of a bike that was renown for flicking into high speed wobbles, but with wide, pull-back bars had loads of street credibility. Anyway, it was pretty damn safe up to 75mph, which was fine with me as my licence was close to running out of space for further endorsements - all part of a mad youth that ended in a six month ban!
Comfort was somewhat limited by the homemade seat that dug into a particularly sensitive part of my body and would, after a hundred miles, let excessive vibes pass straight through the frame rails into my spine. This was a pity as I'd designed the seat to throw women passengers into intimate contact with myself. For long runs I reluctantly slung the old, original seat back on. King and Queen seats were another, extremely comfortable but incredibly ugly, option!
The front disc and calipers were also original, 15 year old fare. They were malign in nature, not even working well when rebuilt and only used in the dry. They would refuse to work then suddenly grab on. The extended forks didn't dive down on to the stops, but only because they flapped about and distorted so much they would no longer move. The resulting lurches caused first time pillions to throw up over my lid!
Some cretin had also equipped the back end with a rear disc. The minimal mudguard and inevitably wrecked rear chain (and thus coated in old engine oil every day) meant that the back of the bike (and pillions for that matter) was invariably covered in grime. When the caliper wasn't seized up solid it was threatening to seize on to the disc, turning the whole back wheel red hot! It may or may not have been this effect that caused the casting to crack up!
It may just have been the few times I rode straight through roundabouts. I blame these kids on hot 125s who would come hurtling up my rear end, deafening me with their spannies and making me growl off with lots of full throttle excess. I often found that the only way around obstacles like roundabouts was to go straight across them. At the time, the front end suffered much more shuddering than the back (don't even think about doing a wheelie on this kind of rolling deathtrap) but the momentum of the 500lb bike got us out the other side in one piece - crushed back discs and madly pulsing heart aside.
Any kind of hard use was limited by the vibration, the gearbox and the total disinclination of the engine to rev over 7000rpm. Above 5000 revs things started coming loose, my teeth hurt and my vision began to go. The gearbox needed a slow, disciplined foot, encased in a proper motorcycle boot. The kind of care and restraint that a Panther owner would get off on. It was much better to rev out in third than try to play silly buggers on the box. The engine just went dead at 7000 revs, more a result of its 60,000 miles of misuse than anything else, although even a new mill was reluctant to do more than 8000 revs.
All of that was in character with the bike that I've owned from 40,000 to 63000 miles. It was a rattly old beast when I'd first bought it, that seemed on its last legs but surprised me by continuing to run with just a new camchain at 53000 miles. With just 50 horses from 654cc they are mildly tuned by Japanese standards and equipped with a massive roller bearing crankshaft, gear primary drive and a tough top end. There's no British twin that can come close to its longevity.
The electrics were much simplified and modified. The alternator fed into a single rectifier/regulator unit, backed up by a small battery, the electric start disconnected and the indicators thrown away. The chrome headlamp contained a car reflector that was good for 40 to 50mph on country roads but bulbs blew rather too often for my liking. The electrics had been replaced because stock units start to fall apart after the first five years causing all kinds of starting problems. My bike would come to life first or second kick even on quite cold mornings. The only worry was when the motor ran on to reserve because the tap was well hidden away and by the time I got to it we were left in a very dangerous position with reference to the rest of the traffic.
The motor didn't take kindly to unleaded, either, coughing and spluttering at low revs. Even on proper petrol there wasn't much of a powerband, more a seamless surge of torque between 2500 and 7000 revs. At least it meant I wasn't forced to play with the poor gearbox too much.
I fell off three times in town. Always on damp roads when the front Avon suddenly let loose. I fell clear of the bike every time, let the metal tear holes out of the tarmac. Bent levers was the worst damage it suffered and I bloodied my knee one time. I was a bit nervous after the accident but soon got my nerve back. It may just've been the radical rearrangement of the steering geometry that was causing this violent reaction in the wet!
Even after its mild customization the XS wasn't exactly met with overwhelming enthusiasm by the local outlaws, whose drug dealing had equipped most of the them with larger than life Harleys, beautiful young girls who looked like they were skipping school and a completely paranoid nature that someone was going to take it all away from them.....one of them reckoned I was a cop in disguise, only such a creature having the bad taste to own a chopped XS650! I didn't know who was suffering the greater insult, the bike or myself. I talked/screamed my way out of it.
One of the most entertaining times I had on the XS650 was when both tyres blew out within five miles of each other. This is the only instance I know of this happening. First the back blew, leading to a massive wobble. I filled the tube with Finilec, which got it half inflated. There was a good enough seal to take 25psi in the next garage. The front blew with a huge bang, the bars flying out of my hands; bike and I doing a dance with the tarmac. My lovingly customized forks were bent way out of shape and my ankle was killing me. My own fault for riding on bald tyres.
Some real Harley forks were persuaded on to the front. Unfortunately, the discs were also HD. Despite being less than a year old (the owner had sensibly replaced his front end with aftermarket stuff) the twin disc were actually worse than the 15 year old Yamaha originals......no power, loads of fade and dire wet weather performance.
The XS was much heavier handling with the Harley front end and just loved to flop into corners. For the first couple of weeks I had to jab my boot down several times to avoid the dreaded tarmac rash. Now, I'm used to it again and can handle its strange ways.
On one level the XS is heavy, slow, vibratory and rather nasty! On another level it's an old friend with loads of character, unique looks and totally reliable. Because I usually fit used consumables, it costs next to nothing to run and does a reasonable 50mpg regardless of how the throttle is abused. If they still made them I'd probably go out to treat myself to a brand new one and keep it for the next 15 years.
James L.
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Three of my mates bought Yank import XS650's. They all had under 20,000 miles on the clock, ran very nicely and looked dead smart. I had a couple of rides. The bike sat firmly on the road, hiding its reputation for odd handling, punched out some gruff torque but never tried to snap my spine in half. The mild custom styling was cute. The reputation of the engine for toughness was its major selling point. I bought a 1976 model for £1500, with 19000 miles on the clock.
That was a bargain in XS terms. For the same kind of money I'd seen some real pigs. Obviously clocked, sometimes bent and straightened, with rattly motors that spelled an engine life only long enough to get them out of the showroom. It definitely pays to look around for the good deals and take along someone who knows what an XS650 should sound like.
At 460lbs it's a heavy old brute but to look at and sit on it doesn't seem anywhere near that heavy. Slim engine and tank, reminded me of some old British twin from the sixties. As soon as it's moving, though, that weight becomes obvious, but it's still an easy bike to ride. A nice neutral feel that makes many an old 400 twin seem like a nervy bag of nails.
I did find the front tyre on the remote side, it'd slide away on greasy going without any warning. Dead easy to fall off if you don't have quick reactions. When it starts to go the 460lbs are all too evident, but nothing a bit of manic muscle won't sort.
Of the famed speed wobbles, I didn't have any problems. That's not to say that the potential for falling off at high speed was absent. One mate came off it a big way, the other two had narrow escapes. In all cases the tyres were down to less than 3mm of tread and there was a bit of wear in the swinging arm bushes. My chassis was in good shape and I replaced the Avons every 8000 miles, before they had a chance to wear dangerously.
This era of XS was largely tamed of its handling foibles but it was important to keep the chassis up to scratch. Otherwise, the wobbles came back with a vicious vengeance. My mate who came off reported that it felt like the wheels were breaking up. The bike dodged across a couple of lanes of traffic, eventually tearing into the side of a cage at about 90mph. He was lucky not to lose any limbs, spent many months in plaster instead.
He made the great mistake of trying to fight the fierce oscillations of the handlebars. This just made the amplitude of the wobbles greater! The other guys loosened their grips on the bars, let the oscillations die out of their own accord. It takes a bit of bravery to do that but the alternative is even more painful.
I could ride my bike through corners at up to 90mph. Come 95mph a bit of a weave started up. Started at the back end. All I had to do was back off on the throttle and it'd die out. Ground clearance wasn't a problem, the tyres' grip more likely to give out than anything scrape down. A little bit of cowardice goes a long way on the XS.
On straight roads the bike maintained its stability all the way up to the maximum speed of 110mph. The engine always felt a little bit choked, as if the carbs were out of sync (they weren't) or the engine was fighting through a massive balancer system (it wasn't). Just a matter of winding the throttle all the way round (a long twist) and waiting for the engine to catch up.
There wasn't much point looking at the rev counter. There was more than enough blood and guts to indicate when the mill was peaking out. This is a proper vertical twin, with the pistons moving up and down together, and no balancer. That means it makes loads of primary vibration. To an extent, this is damped out by the sheer mass of the plot and rigidity of its massive four bearing crankshaft (the Brit's usually used two bearings with a huge flywheel in the middle). It didn't bother me in the least up to 5000 revs. Thereafter it thrummed away, especially when I gripped the tank hard between my knees - it wasn't my fingers I was worried about going numb!
The bike would cruise at up to 90mph without the vibes going excruciating. Any more than that for any length of time meant frequent stops and a shaking body; made more sense to ride slightly slower without the frequent stops.
Vibration levels weren't constant among the four bikes. One was remarkably smooth up to the ton, another had a bad patch between 60 and 80mph. As they all accelerated in a similar manner we put it down to the vagaries of production tolerances. Never buy an XS650 without a proper test ride - otherwise, you may not like what you've bought.
I thought the handling and cruising velocities were well matched. Basically, stick below 90mph and all's fine and dandy. The only limitation on cruising was the stock saddle, which went all hard and edgy after 50 miles. One mate had a venerable K Q seat which looked like shit but gave a luxurious throne for hundreds of miles. For me, style won out over comfort.
The first time the bike went on to reserve I thought I was going to die. No coughing of stuttering, just a sudden, total loss of go-juice. A dead engine's like slamming into a wall. I panicked, trying to get out of the way of the cages. Didn't even think it was the fuel running out. I barely managed to escape being run down. Even when I learnt that it was the fuel, it was never easy to hit the reserve tap whilst the bike was bouncing along with a dead engine. Stupid, killer design. The bike did 50 to 55mpg; not bad, not good!
Another downer was chassis rot. Basically, the XS didn't like British winters. Rust ate into the guards and silencers. When I replaced the front guard with a plastic one, it lasted all of three weeks before the vibration cracked it up. My mates concurred, a lot of design and thought had gone into the original heavyweight chassis, replace it at your peril.
One winter was all it took to take out the silencers. Many options available, I ended up with a noisy 2-1, jet kit and K N filters. Hoping to get a bit more punch. I once saw 115mph on the clock, but acceleration was the same as the other bikes, mostly running out of steam come 90mph. The new exhaust made starting problematic on cold mornings, the starter churning over and over until she finally caught. Noisy starters are par for the course.
Engine maintenance didn't consist of much as electronic ignition had been fitted. That just left four valve clearances, two carbs to balance and regular oil changes. One mate hasn't done anything to his motor for 25000 miles and it still runs fine - well, he changes the oil when the gearchange becomes full of false neutrals. The latter wasn't brilliant, as there was a lack of feel, dead easy to end up in neutral between first and second. Conversely, neutral couldn't be engaged at a standstill. The brakes are similarly dated and need a careful hand in wet weather.
Those are minor quibbles given the overall pleasure of riding the bike - it can anyway be left in the taller gears for most of the time, even pulling off easily in second, and also has lots of engine braking. It's a bike for riding sanely. No speed rocket, this one, but the beat of its engine and relaxed riding position encourages a kind of riding that is out of fashion these days but well known to bikers in the sixties and early seventies.
If this style of riding doesn't attract you, avoid the XS650; ridden too hard it'll spit you off in no uncertain terms or merely blitz you with its vibration. On the other hand, if you want a British twin but can't take the lack of reliability and don't want to be a hazard in modern traffic then the XS650's definitely where it's at, man!
Claude Osborne
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The XS650 has a great reputation for longevity and reliability. Go around the clock without being touched was the general opinion. Only the UMG had a word of caution - some suffered poor pistons and the electric starter could take out the crankshaft when it went awry! I ignored such good advice, thrown into enthusiasm as I was by its classic appearance and meaty exhaust.
A trawl through half a dozen London dealers threw up five examples, ranging in price from £1500 to £1950. Not wanting to blow the deal for want of a few quid, I bought the most expensive for cash - got two hundred notes off. 1976, 33000 miles, generally excellent condition, sounded well butch and sat on the road with astounding security after all the tales of highway madness I'd read with regards to its handling.
After the first five miles, or so, I was pretty pleased with myself. King of road and all that! Then, as I was just starting to cross a major junction, the engine went stone dead. Like hitting a brick wall. The cage behind me screamed to a halt, but the one behind him didn't! Chaos descended on the junction for a while. Until I'd flipped on to reserve and started the motor again on the electric boot. I got out of there before a lynching party was formed.
For some reason, the XS goes dead without warning when the juice runs out. Fuel turned out to be 45 to 55mpg, but the latter only possible when using the mildest of throttle settings - below 3500 revs, when the OHC vertical twin had enough gruff torque to get away with such mild revs. In fact, I could quite happily pull off in third gear if a gentle hand was applied to the light clutch.
By the time I'd done the thirty miles to my humble abode on that first day of ownership, I found the chain was dragging along the ground. Don't know what it was made from - knicker elastic? - but it needed daily attention and was soon at the end of its adjustment. Compared to the new chain, it was obvious that it had stretched alarmingly and that there were half a dozen links missing. Given the XS's torque, I was very lucky it hadn't snapped in half.
Unfortunately, the new chain soon went into rapid stretch mode. A mere 300 miles had it in need of constant adjustment again. The next time, a chain and sprocket set was knocked on. This lasted all of 3000 miles before it again went into quick decay. Though it was a cheap and nasty chain and sprocket set, this was an unexpected and unwanted expense. Not to mention an irritating one!
Between these chain fettling sessions the Yamaha ran pretty well. Don't expect much more than 90mph - it will do more in theory but you won't like the vibration, though the 460lb machine is more solidly built than British rivals, doesn't fall apart under you. I did manage to fracture the non-standard rack, which caused the top box to flap all over the shop. It's not a good idea to put a lot of mass out the back, anyway, as a weave comes in at 75mph. When the rack and top box were removed the weave didn't appear until 90mph.
Handling was quite heavy going but surprisingly stable. It sat nicely on the road with good directional accuracy. I did find the tyres a bit remote - the first I knew of a slippery bit of road was the tyres slipping away. Not enough time to react, had to hope that the surface improved before the bike crashed down to earth. The back wheel did some lurid, frightening slides, but always twitched back into line when the surface improved.
The bike was also very good when plunging into craters and pot-holes, the bars refusing to twitch. Although the lack of suspension travel meant I got kicked in the balls a few times! Weaving the bike through narrow gaps was okay because it was basically a narrow old thing that put four cylinder monsters firmly in their place. It certainly had enough torque and power to play king cowboy in the traffic light GP; the combination of exhaust noise and tarmac thumping torque sure woke up dozy cagers and sleep-walking ped's. Fun in town, then.
Country roads needed muscle and a certain nonchalance when the surfaces turned rough. I'd read so much about the famed speed wobbles that I sat on the bike waiting for all hell to break loose despite the way it handled more than adequately. It never did go wild.
Or not until 37000 miles were on the clock. At 36500 miles I had loads of hassle with the front twin discs. They weren't brilliant when I bought the bike, but would eventually squeal the front tyre with an iron grip on the lever. I assumed the lack of power was down to the pads wearing out. Confirmed when one set spat themselves out of the caliper! I bodged the brake so it was just working on the one disc - a rather complex form of suicide.
When I went to take the calipers apart I found them seized up solid. Hammer job! Breakers laughed but I eventually tracked down a complete set of working brakes, including discs. The breaker informed me that he knew one example where a disc broke up! Reassembled, the brake was just as mediocre as before. One useful update would be a complete front end but I don't know which one would fit - anyone done the job out there?
No sooner had I got the brake fixed up nicely than the handling went all violent. Speed wobbles galore. Real stomach churning stuff but it was still okay up to 70mph, so I didn't take too much notice. It was the cop who pulled me over who pointed out the fault. The back wheel had been squirming all over the shop, according to him. Kicking the swinging arm revealed that its bearings were shot. Once replaced, the speed wobbles went away and the cops left me alone. Very kind of them!
The bike was expensive on consumables. Killed chains dead, tyres in less than 6000 miles and not much more from the pads even though I excessively used the strong engine braking and excellent rear drum. You could almost call the silencers a consumable. The dealer had proudly pointed to the new exhaust system but the baffles were already rattling after 5000 miles - they are quick rot junk, but universal silencers can be punched on without ruining the carburation. Dunstall used to make an excellent aftermarket system which liberated a few more horses from the mill.
As to the engine. It needed 750 mile oil changes to stop the gearbox becoming full of false neutrals. The carbs occasionally leaked fuel, needing the floats tweaked but I never had to actually balance them. The valves went out after a mere 500 miles but if you ignored the rattles the engine would still run happily. Probably not a good idea on a twenty year old motorcycle, so I mostly did them when they needed it. The points were long gone, replaced by electronic ignition that needed no attention.
I kept the bike until 45000 miles. I was much more worried about the chassis disintegrating than any hassles from the engine, which, true to form, gave every impression of going around the clock several times. A lot of small things in the chassis added to my concern - one of the shocks' studs corroding, rust taking over the rear subframe, the seat about to disintegrate, rust in the petrol tank, the brakes going down again, a couple of wheel spokes breaking away where they met the alloy rims...you get the general idea?
Bottom line. These were wonderful old sluggers in their day, with surely the toughest of vertical twin engines. The chassis now needs lots of tender loving care, which given its less than brilliant performance seems a lot of hassle for not much return. I sold mine for £1550, so no great loss there. I was tempted by a low mileage custom XS650, until I rode it and thought that the frame must surely be twisted. Nope! In the end you have to move on. In my case, a three year old TDM850. Strip all the junk off it, loud exhaust and get it back to basics. Lovely!
Frank Dolley