Suzuki GSX1100

I retired at 55, so needed something to give me an interest in life. That was three years ago and since then I have owned a 1980 Suzuki GSX1100. I did not mean to buy such a large and powerful machine; previously having owned a 650 BSA in the sixties I was looking for a 400 or 550. The local dealer was approached with this in mind, but all the small machines, even the newish ones, looked like they had been dragged through a hedge backwards and then dropped down the side of a cliff. Perhaps I exaggerate a little, but that's how they looked to me in comparison to the GSX1100, which stood in a corner all on its own.

The dealer prattled on whilst I looked the machine over, finding my memory of the various things to check coming back. By the time I'd finished the salesman was rather subdued, apparently shocked that someone so old and innocent looking could so thoroughly check over a machine. It was, apart from the engine and disc brakes, not that different to the old BSA, having a loop frame, twin rear shocks and a similar naked look.

We pushed the machine out into the street, I couldn't manage it on my own. The dealer told me all discs brakes stuck on at low speeds and I saw no reason why I should disbelieve him. The machine growled into life with impressive rapidity on the starter button - my memory was still clear of trying to start the A10 on cold mornings! It was just as well my hearing's going, because the matt black 4-1 spat out a terrible din; even the salesman leapt a foot in the air when I touched the throttle - how was I to know that engine response was so rapid, the needle was in the red before I had a chance to blink!

A brief ride up the road, keeping the tacho needle below 5000rpm was enough for me - I had to have it. I hadn't had so much fun since.....well, we won't go into that in a family magazine. The dealer agreed to fit a proper exhaust system if I was willing to pay the advertised price. A week later I was much relieved to find that the gentle burble of the standard exhaust was so subdued that I had to turn up my hearing aid.

Riding home was something else. I felt frightened out of my wits. Everything appeared to happen about ten times faster than in my car. Touching the brake lever had the forks down on their stops and the tyre screeching in dismay. Opening the throttle a little produced a massive kick in the back. Progress was a series of lurches until I persuaded the gearbox up into fourth and started using engine braking and the rear brake for the slow speed work. It didn't help that the gearbox and brake lever were the wrong way around compared to the old British bikes.

A few hundred miles of riding got me used to the basic mechanics. Various acquaintances grudgingly admitted that it was an impressive machine but the sidelong glances gave the impression they thought I was a bit past it. Nothing could be further from the truth; I was having the time of my life! Not that I was going very fast or taking big risks. The sheer freedom that the machine gave, the way I could just go straight through traffic jams or the way I could hurl the bike along fast A roads was a revelation....anyone who rides a bike knows what I mean.

I kept waiting for the bike to go wrong. There were already 24000 miles on the clock, judging by the state of the virgin engine screws it had never been stripped down. I could recall doing a rebuild on the BSA every 6 months! The manual I bought suggested the oil should be changed every 1000 miles, which I did, but the rest of it seemed to whirr away with total reliability - it all looked so complex that I decided to leave well alone. Amateur mechanics can do more harm than good.

In the first 3000 miles I hadn't gone above 6000 revs, which in top was already pushing dangerously past the motorway limit. I had, at times, felt the bike trying to lurch forward but had always backed off. I wanted to get back into the swing of things before I tried to push the bike too hard. On one early morning trip the motorway was absolutely deserted and I couldn't resist it.

The ton came up with such absurd ease, and no vibes, that I was astonished. Then the machine seemed to enter another powerband and took off with even more ferocity. The bike started to weave with 120mph on the clock, vibes started pouring in, so after a brief excursion to 130mph I hastily backed off. I never went faster than this, although I am sure that there was yet more power to come.

The bike came with a new set of Michelins and the dealer had pointed out the better aftermarket shocks and heftier swinging arm, so I suppose it was a much better set up than standard. At 550lbs it was heavy to throw around but seemed basically secure to me. The ride was certainly better than the spine rattling I recall the BSA used to give. At 6'2" I am on the tall side and thus able to adequately cope with the girth and tallness of the GSX1100, smaller mortals may have troubles, although I did see a young lady on one who had to lean over at a standstill to get a boot on the floor - she was a lot braver than I.

One thing leads to another, having enjoyed short rides on the Suzuki I decided to plan a three week excursion. It was here that one of the GSX's problems came to light. When the bike came to me all its consumables were as new, in less than 4000 miles they were all in need of replacement. As I wanted to do more than that mileage in the three weeks I had to buy two sets of chains and pads; the tyres I would replace en route if necessary.

The bike ran around Germany, France and Spain without any problems, apart from the consumables and oil changes every five days! Fuel consumption worked out at 48mpg against 45mpg in more normal riding, oil consumption between changes was minimal. I've mixed feeling about the expense involved in doing high mileages - on the one hand the very reliable engine encouraged huge mileages whilst on the other something like a BSA 650 would not have allowed a fraction of the distance to be covered. The solution was obvious, I suppose, I should have bought a smaller bike as I had originally intended, as I did not use a fraction of the GSX's potential performance.

But there was something about the big Suzuki that appealed to me. The sheer solidity of its construction gave the impression that she would run around the clock a few times without requiring anything more than a regular oil change. At low speeds the deep grumble from the engine was so contented that it inspired a laid back attitude. I know if I was younger and wilder that I would have used the frenzied acceleration of the higher rev range more and more, but the bike was just at home as a plodder as it was as a hot rod.

I can recall what used to happen to old British twins when they were tuned for high power - they spat back, vibrated crazily and were pratically impossible to ride at lower speeds. The progress the Japanese have made in engine civility is amazing even on what, these days, is a very old design of motorcycle. I had no qualms about going up steep hills in top gear on minimal revs....I could spend many a happy hour seeing how slow I could go in a tall gear before the transmission started crunching. It was a great to feel the torque pulsing through the chassis as the engine pulled the bike up some near vertical incline.

I can afford to run the GSX1100 so I see no reason to sell her at the moment. The engine purrs away contentedly and as the bike is cleaned every week it looks as good as when I bought it. I can imagine that younger readers could have delivered a much more derogatory account of the Suzuki, but for me, after so many years off bikes, it really is a sheer delight to ride and to look at.

George Golding

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Having become used to various race replicas it came as a bit of a shock to find myself battered, once again, as in my youth, by the fierce airstream that these big retros are capable of producing. Anyone who tries to sustain 120mph for more than a few moments on Suzuki's GSX1100G will begin to question the cleverness of putting style over substance.

In fact, very little clever technology has been applied to any of the retros and it's possible to take some old seventies or early eighties big Yamaha, Kawasaki, Suzuki or Honda four, apply a few tuning tricks to the engine, add some decent suspension and, if necessary, even brace the frame, to produce a machine that is lighter, goes faster and handles just as well. And costs a lot less, just to add insult to injury.

The trick with the old mammoths was to try to lose weight and stiffen up the suspension. Neither were those sickles about sensibly tuned engines, when they were the hottest bikes on the road it was about extracting every last ounce of power to make rivals eat exhaust fumes. These new retros are aimed at the sensible, sane riders who are believed to exist in reaction to the current economic demise......even if they did exist they certainly wouldn't pay the crazy prices demanded. My feeling is that the punters want maximum madness for the minimum of dosh. On the other hand, Harley have done well out of the style wars.....

A friend had bought a new 1100 Suzi, done a quick run in and was so impressed that he would bore the faecal matter out of anyone willing to listen to his highway tales aboard the bright and shiny GSX. I had to admit I liked its looks, noise and feel (just sat on it). After a bit of arm twisting, it was mine for a long weekend.

The bike is disgustingly heavy for a nineties machine, getting on for 600lbs with the tank full. This actually translates into a surprisingly secure feel at low speeds. Burbling through town I was quite taken with its easy going nature. Bags of torque, a slick gearbox and plenty of feedback in the controls.

I was swiftly brought back to reality when I tried to wedge the Suzi through a tiny right-angled gap in the traffic. The motor is one wide piece of alloy, engine bars a necessary accessory to avoid written off cranks. This, combined with the way the bike fell into the manoeuvre as I jerked sharply on the bars, caused the hulk to fall over into the corner of the car, putting a huge amount of mass on my trapped leg.

The car driver was furious at this attack on his prized possession. Judging by the way he was leaping up and down he was poorly hung and took the unfortunate incident as an insult to his manhood. Eventually, a couple of other cagers helped haul the bike off my leg and his car. I must admit the huge dent in his wing looked rather expensive; my leg had saved my friend's machine from any serious damage. The police turned up before I did a runner. Lost a whole hour to their inquisition and paperwork.

I blamed the bike's mass rather than my incompetence. I had planned a 600 mile hustle up my favourite A-roads, but had second thoughts and hit the motorway instead. I figured that it would be a lot less taxing, which only shows how wrong you can be. Slicked up to top gear as soon as I hit the fast lane, with no need to play footsie on the gearchange lever. With 50mph on the clock, the Suzuki will roar off with nary a moment's hesitation. There's enough power to give the shoulder muscles a work-out all the way up to an indicated 125mph.

Higher speeds were certainly possible - I put 145mph on the speedo in one particular moment of madness - but hardly worth the effort and certainly not tolerable for more than a few minutes. The riding position is what used to be called sporting but now passes for sensible. Fine for anything up to 90mph in cruising mode but three figure speeding leads to massive pains in the shoulders, arms and wrists. However, it's a good compromise, for town riding is a doddle with none of the cramps or pains engendered by the now normal race replica riding crouch. If you only have one machine that has to do everything then the retros are clear winners in the rideability stakes.

Stability was excellent. The front forks were able to cope with the slight undulations in the motorway's surface and whilst the Kawa 1100 Zephyr's twin shocks were better than the Suzuki's mono-shock, with everything turned up high there was a minimum of wallowing even in 90mph bends. The large mass probably aided the stately feel of the ride. As did the lack of the vibes from the oil cooled, DOHC four cylinder engine. It becomes a bit vicious once past 120mph, but that hardly matters as those kinds of speeds are not sustainable for any length of time.

Unfortunately, as I had plenty of time to muse by the side of the road after being stopped when doing 95mph, the mirrors are badly designed bits of junk that only give a partial rearwards view when they are not afflicted by the vibes. They get very frenzied between 70 and 105mph, so that all I saw of the cop car was a blurred bit of white and blue.

I'd earlier nearly ridden off the road when I caught a glimpse of a white car behind when I was doing the ton. That turned out to be a civilian but required an awkward backward glance to ascertain, causing the Suzi to career off towards the armco.

The cops were in a good mood, having just apprehended a Lotus at 130mph. I told them I was just keeping up with the traffic flow, being new to the bike didn't realise how fast I was going....the smoothness and civilized manners of the Suzi catching me out (which was actually quite near the truth). They lectured me for about ten minutes and then, much to the relief of my licence, let me on my way with strict warnings not even to think about speeding on their motorway ever again.

That was after an enjoyable 120 mile, eighty minute blitz along the motorway. I was a bit surprised to have to start looking for fuel so soon. Worked out at only 30mpg. I took the opportunity to make for some A-roads, having regained my confidence in the machine after experiencing its rock-steady stability. Again, the top gear torque came in handy, enabling me to race between lines of cars without going ape on the gearbox. For most of the time I was stringing the bike out to around 90mph, not needing to slow down too much for the faster bends. More than anything else, I was impressed with its handling and chuckability.....if only they could dump a hundred pounds then it would be as good as any race replica on the road.

The only component of the chassis that I could really find fault with was the front forks. A couple of times I judged the traffic wrongly, had to brake very harshly whilst doing a rapid change of direction. The kind of cut and thrust manoeuvre that lighter bikes would just shrug off had the poor old Suzi down on its stops with a frightful amount of juddering and screaming from the front end. The GSX still held its line but the machinations filled me with the idea that under some desperate conditions the bike would flip right out. On the other hand, I would not even contemplate such manoeuvres on most other bikes of such girth and mass.

The hefty nature of the beast showed up in rapid wear of the consumables. By the time I'd added 1500 miles to the clock the mileometer was reading 6750. The front pads had lost most of their brake material, and the OE tyres were down to 3mm. It didn't rain so I had no chance of testing them out in the wet, but they showed no signs of nastiness in the dry. Only the shaft drive provided an easy escape from high running costs - at a certain price, for rolling off the throttle in corners that turned bumpy would set up a bit of juddering in the rear end.

Another aspect of the mass is trying to park the bugger in awkward locations. I once slid into a parking slot which sloped downwards slightly. The combination of dragging discs and 600lbs proved almost impossible to push back out. Only another biker giving a shove on the bars saved me from dislocating my back. After that experience I stopped laughing at the Honda GL1500's reverse gear.

By way of contrast, it was dead easy to roll on to the centrestand, whose prong never came close to digging a hole out of the ground when into seriously fast cornering. I think the only time that anything would touch down is when the tyres lose their grip. The only time that happened to me was when the aforementioned braking locked up the forks, the wheel then hitting a series of bumps with nowhere to go but into slide mode. A serious amount of muscle on the bars saved us from eating tarmac and sent severe heart palpitations through my body.

A-road work was more relaxed than such madness might suggest. Mainly down to the gobs of torque, the sensible riding position and the less than frenetic nature of the mill. My first day's ride totalled nearly 600 miles. I was still in a relatively relaxed frame of mind, my backside was only slightly numb and the bike ticked over smoothly enough to suggest that it had just had its first service. Fuel on the A-roads had improved slightly to around 35mpg but it was only under the mildest of throttle abuse that it breached the 40mpg barrier. Those kind of figures are not what you'd call progress after nearly two decades of making big fours!

I was also a bit miffed by its two-up performance. Admittedly, my mate was going on 200lbs but still I had thought such a mild mannered motor would shake off even such mass. But, no, top gear proved very sluggish until the ton was on the clock. I was forced to use the lower ratios to maintain a decent pace. The seat was also a bit short to contain his massive frame, causing me to slide up into the tank to avoid an unholy pact.

The rear shock did not take kindly to this pillion, either, becoming all hot and bothered after about five miles. The weaves got so bad that I had to stop, turn everything up to its highest setting and hint to my friend that it was time he went on a diet. Handling improved but was nowhere near as impressive as when solo. Time will probably have a similar effect on the shock, so serious, long term owners would be advised to start saving up their pennies for a decent replacement. My pillion also reported some vibes through his pegs, which became worse with revs.

Once freed of the pillion, the bike felt totally transformed, as if someone had put nitro in the tank. The more I rode the Suzi the more I liked it, the more I explored its possibilities the more I admired its engineering and the more I looked over its external surface the greater did the delight in its appearance become. The 1100 proved something of a head turner when parked up in town with all kinds of know-alls coming up, claiming to have owned one just like it in their youth. Sure, sure.

I suppose the big question is would I hand over a large wedge for one. Er, no! Not yet, anyway. Two grand's the most I'd pay for a newish motorcycle and big Suzukis are not yet down in that range. They should last a long time, with their tough, mildly tuned engines and aerodynamics that discourage mad riding.

I would never buy a new one. As much as I enjoyed my time with the 1100, their basic design is so fundamentally flawed that Suzuki don't deserve to pick up on my hard earned wedge. Fuel consumption is rotten and mass far too high. If they put in the same care and thought into the design as Honda did with their CBR900, then I'm sure the mass could go down to 450lbs and the fuel better 50mpg. That would be a modern retro.

Mick Allen

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Bloody typical. I'd just bought the Suzuki GS500E to commute on when my mate decided to get rid of his GSX1100. The 500 was dead boring, it was a bargain, got me to work, was economical, was in good nick, cheap to run; great, but dead boring.

The 1100 by comparison was heavy, thirsty, noisy and impossible in the wet, but I just had to have it. My mate was short of cash, so just 2400 notes got me the 1989, last of the line, 1135cc monster Suzuki, complete with American exhaust and Dyno-jet conversion.

Even parked, the damned thing looked like it was doing the ton. You know, the usual high tail cut rear end, the open mega style pipe.....and when it was running it was absolutely the dog's bollocks. From the book, early 1100 Suzukis chucked out about 90 horses and with various model changes the power had risen to this variant, with 135 gee-gees, the aforementioned mods probably boosting the bottom end.

One of the many previous owners had fitted Aeroquip hoses, and had cut out some foam from the seat so brakes were shit hot and you could sit in the armchair seat with feet on the floor. The power was immense, I've ridden some quite fast stuff but this was outrageous.

For example, I was cruising down the outside of the traffic on my way home, one damp evening, and passed the filth stuck in the queue. At a set of lights further down the road, I looked in the mirror - horrors, coming up behind with blue lights on, they're coming to get me. God Knows what for (probably for enjoying yourself - Ed), perhaps the race track pipe. Lights change and I'm off, no worries I'll zip past the big lorry and pull a left, they'll go right on past. Too big a handful of throttle made the back end go crazy. Eased off just enough to find some grip and away we go.

I didn't use that route home for weeks and learnt to be a little more careful with the gas, but in the wet it was damn near impossible to get the power down. The rear tyre was a Pirelli Demon and turned out to be the same size as fitted to modern replicas with less than 100 neddies, so the problem was pretty obvious. Skinny tyres plus monster motor equals mega wheelspin.

Like the time I visited my uncle in Oxford. I decided to use the A5 and have fun on the way. Again, it was a bit damp. Doing 80mph, going for the overtake, down to fourth and wind it on. Can you believe the bastard let loose at the back end. To be fair, it never stepped right out, which might've been my reactions in shutting everything down, and it always kept pretty much on a straight course. Or it could be that I always made sure I was upright and going straight before I gassed it.

Top end? God knows. I got her to 135mph, but with high bars and no fairing that was more than flesh and blood could stand. Suffice to say, it was still going and probably good for 150mph. That trip to Oxford was a fun ride. On the way there I had a dice with some twat in a Merc. Eat dirt, sucker. Ha, ha. On the way back I had to let a fast Capri go, I just couldn't see where the hell I was going, with all the shit and spray on the road I had to flip up my visor and then, as they say, shit gets in your eyes.....

Also on that trip I decided to get home quick on the motorway. Boring, I know, but fast. A steady 110mph with eyes on the mirrors. As I hit a slip road to pull off I became aware that I was running on only three cylinders. It was fine before, as always pulling like a train so I figured a plug had died a death and limped home. Even on a mere three cylinders it had loads of balls, it just sounded a bit off, especially below 3000 revs.

New plugs didn't cure it, so my mates and I all played doctors, trying to figure out what was wrong. In the dark, the HT leads were tracking so they were changed. The design connecting the HT leads to the coil was crap, the stupid plastic lugs breaking off. New leads didn't help cure the problem, although the engine would still start and run well enough to use in the daily commute; it just left me a bit wary of burning off the filth.

Plug number four was wet. Simple deduction, something wrong with that cylinder. Nothing for it, the head had to come off. I am a qualified mechanic, but it was still a job I wasn't keen on. Full marks to Suzuki on making the thing idiot proof. The head bolts all marked and numbered, the cams fully identified. I had hoped to find something simple like a broken rocker arm, or a cam follower amiss. But I didn't so the head had to come off.

The GSX was supposed to have four valves per cylinder but there was one missing! One of the inlet valves had a nice neat chunk missing out of it. Thank God there was no other damage. The valve must've chipped on the motorway and spat out the piece. There is a God! New valve, new head gasket and off we go. Apparently, such a demise is very rare, these motors are more usually absolutely bullet-proof.

So, what else is there to know about theses brutes? They are afflicted with the usual sticking calipers. A quick tip, if you go for Aeroquip hoses don't use alloy unions - in eighteen months they will corrode away, thanks to the nastiness of brake fluid - this could prove a terminal fault if they crack up during a high speed stop! I was lucky, mine fell apart when I dismantled the rear to cure the seized calipers but it was obviously cracked.

Beware of non-standard exhausts, too, many of them limit ground clearance, as did mine on the right which turned the normally stable GSX1100 into a lurching monster when it dug into the tarmac - hard riders can wear through pipes before they corrode through. The GSX is also sensitive to carburation and needs to be rejetted when fitted with a non-standard 4-1 exhaust.

Other problems, like horrific wearing consumables (although fuel was a more than reasonable 40mpg), heavy handling in the tight stuff and the odd patch of vibration are all par for the course for these big old bruisers; if you want something sensible, sane and cheap to run then it's better to look elsewhere, but once something like this GSX1100 has been experienced it's almost impossible to find contentment with more mundane commuters.

I was in love with the Suzi, it was everything I ever wanted in a bike. Huge great gobs of arm wrenching power which never seemed to end. Fairly good handling, reasonable brakes and a real looker. It was okay in traffic and great on the open road. Finish is pretty crap, corrosion on the wheels and front mudguard alloy section was impossible to keep up with and I've heard bad stories about the longevity of the linkages in the Full Floater back end (which in good condition worked very well). I was sorry to get rid of the bike, a Kawa RX came along, but that's really a different story.

Phil Gooding

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I don't know quite why I did it but it, anyway, happened. Bought a 1981 Suzuki GSX1100 for £900. Only thing was it had twelve owners and had done, er, 123,000 miles. As far as anyone knew all the engine had received was regular servicing. Stock except for a noisy 4-1 and K and N filters, it still growled nicely and put 140mph on the clock. The engine was so well run in that it was exceptionally smooth, rarely did any secondary vibes hit the bars. The chassis was well sorted - Pirellis, alloy swinging arm, newish front end, fork brace. Finished in gloss black and polished cases it didn't look that old and few of my mates believed the mileage (confirmed by a stack of MOT certificates).

Having survived so long, it was the machine's hard luck to fall into my hands. Neglect was my middle name. Give me a beautiful machine and in six moths it'd be a rolling wreck. Rat city, the kinda bike the pigs would pounce on without thought. It says a lot for the big Suzuki that it lasted for nearly a year.

I nearly wrote it off several times in the early days. Taut handling it was but it also felt more like a 600lb Goldwing that a would-be sportster. I strained my wrists several times trying to hurl it through the tighter bends. Comfort was also poor which made me so wretched I kept playing death games on the throttle. Going into bends far too fast and hitting the somewhat vague discs in out and out panic mode. Let's just say that I never had constipation problems. After three months I became used to the wild and wacky ways, could cut up most of my mates.

That season of goodwill lasted for less than six months, due to all the chassis bearings wearing out. 80mph was equivalent to putting a gun in my mouth and pulling the trigger, but I carried on regardless. A sad sight to behold. The engine had started to go off as well, mainly because I hadn't done anything more onerous than bunging in some 20/50 when the gearchange went all vague.

Wheelies were regularly indulged outside the school...yes, I was the clown who fell off and landed on the bollard, completely wrecking the thing. You gotta get some value out of the council tax, haven't you? The big Suzuki was a tough old beast, which despite dents, rust, and gunge still looked and sounded mightily impressive.

The first sign of its final demise was the 4-1 exhaust breaking up. It was pretty easy to suss because of the increase in noise and lack of power below 4000 revs...in the dark flames shot out of one of the down-pipes that had cracked in half. A mate bodged it back together with some metal plate and a welding torch.

A week later there was a dramatic loss of power, no more than 80mph on the clock and lots of back-firing. Must be the plugs, but they were corroded in as solidly as barnacles on some old wreck of a ship. The bike could still be ridden if the throttle was juggled judiciously and I ignored red lights and junctions. At low speeds it liked to stall, or maybe seize up momentarily. I was all for selling the machine but the punters who turned up didn't share my enthusiasm, gave me nasty looks for ruining such a potentially fine machine.

A month later it wouldn't start. Alright, take the engine out and whip the head off. A few days later I managed to get the head off and rapidly keeled over when I saw that all four pistons had big holes in them. Further examination revealed all the crank's bearings were thoroughly thrashed.

The clock read 138,000 miles and I felt a bit sad when, after a quick reassembly, we rolled it down to the local playing field and put a match in the petrol tank...really there was nothing left to salvage, even the forks were shagged again, and this was my usual way of saying goodbye.

James G.

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'You have to take it easy on the throttle. Otherwise you'll go end over end.' Thus spoke the gravelly voice of the owner as I was getting ready for the test ride. I grinned, snicked into first gear and wound the throttle around to the stop. The whole machine quaked, the exhaust rasped and I felt my body chopped in half when I dropped the clutch. There followed a massive, snaking wheelie that left my stomach contents in me underpants!

I'd just extricated myself from a painful experience with a GSXR 750 that had a series of mechanical mishaps. I was determined to check out the 1100 properly - break it on the test rather than after I'd handed over the dosh. After getting the front wheel back on the ground, an exhilarating ten minute ride followed. The bike had done 39000 miles and seemed fine. Mine for £1250. Sold!

Riding home, the polished finery was blunted by a howling gale, acid rain and a three minute blast of hailstones. As if the elements didn't want me to enjoy my new mount. To stop the back wheel skidding, I had to keep the tacho below 5000 revs. Despite its size, the GSX was a pussy-cat at low revs with a slick gearbox and no drive-line lash.

The front wheel was a little bit twitchy and flighty but otherwise the massive bulk sat securely on the road. The flat, narrow bars didn't need much effort to twitch the bike through the bends. Home was reached with a grin despite being soaked through. The bike was looking its age suddenly, covered in road crud.

Rather than clean it off, I hurried into the house to dry out and warm up. The next morning rust had sprouted and that horrible white fur had settled on the engine and wheel alloy. The bike looked like a £500 rat. The guy who sold the GSX had covered the engine and exhaust with black paint that fell off the first time it rained. GSX's don't have a brilliant finish and age doesn't help. It needed a daily polish to keep the corrosion at bay. Tiresome!

I was just about to leap aboard for another bit of madness when I realised I'd been a huge fool. I'd forgotten to check the electrics over! I had ridden home with the lights on and it did come to life first press of the button, so there was some hope. Turned out that there was a mess of wiring, non-standard rectifier/regulator and a rather battered looking battery. As it happened, there were no problems down the line, just the odd fear-inspired thought when I found myself in the middle of nowhere. Would it, or wouldn't it?

I kept the angst at bay by going violent on the throttle. Basically what the GSX was all about There's no point buying one unless you want to revel in the excessive grunt. That's not to say it couldn't run nicely at low revs, just that once the acceleration had been experienced I needed a regular fix - like every five minutes.

The sixteen valve, DOHC, air-cooled four cylinder motor was one those engines that absolutely thrived on revs. The harder it was pushed the better it ran and as ten grand was approached the exhaust turned into a gravelly wail that got the hairs on my back standing up. Judging by the agonized look on the ped's faces this wasn't something shared by the general populace. Oh well, you can't please all of the people all of the time!

Apart from the finish, there wasn't much to complain about. The gearbox was slick, the clutch light, the comfort good and the handling reasonable. With a 100 horses fighting over 500lbs, some care was needed on the throttle through the bends, but despite the weird front end I never found it really frightening. Even in the wet there was something about the bike that encouraged spirited riding, although the hardness of the suspension, given the mileage, suggested that the previous owner had done some minor mod's.

The mono-track back end can wear around the linkages but my bike was fine. Even the chain and sprockets, notoriously fast wearing items, were in good shape - upgraded as the chain was to modern O-ring spec. Fuel was around 40mpg given an urgent throttle hand, could maybe do 50mpg under milder riding.

Secondary vibes didn't disturb me but did cause one of the oil pipes to come loose! Oil spat out of the oil-cooler at an incredible rate. Luckily, our self produced howling gale spat it back up at me, enabling me to pull over before the sump was drained of lubricant. An eye needs to be kept on the oil level because it can disappear on long rides; I always carry a spare litre of 10/40.

The good riding position means I don't get tired for the first 200 miles, as long as I keep the speed below the ton. Quite difficult, the engine coming into its hard power at 90mph, wanting to growl up the road. Putting 150mph on the clock isn't impossible, but holding it any length of time does my body in. The naked nature of the bike means I have to get right down on the tank, elbows stuck up in the air, whole body straining against the elements. There are both full and half fairing versions of the GSX, but as motorway speeds are limited by the law, keeping under the ton ain't such a bad idea. And I think the Suzuki looks much more butch naked.

Lights, horn and switches are all excellent, though it's not a good idea, given the fragility of the electrical system, to upgrade the front headlamp to an even more powerful spec. On high mileage bikes expect the wiring to be falling apart and/or bodged. These are tough engines (rattly top ends may just mean the valves need attention), the electrics most likely to be a troublesome area - that means you can pick up a bike in need of attention, but with no serious mechanical problems, for £500 to £750. £1000 to £1500 should buy something with lots of life left and in generally nice condition. Though the finish can go off at the first sign of rain.

The square section frame's tough, can take the odd slide down the road. Any really nasty handling is down to a bent frame, though (or bald tyres!). The forks are susceptible to being twisted slightly out of shape, but this is quite hard to suss and doesn't ruin the handling - the bike may lurch about when the brakes are used in anger in bends. A fork brace is a useful addition if you're going to ride and brake hard. Cracked plastic around the seat is common. As are quick seize calipers. There are still lots of GSX's on offer. 

Paul Garland

Suzuki GS550

With my usual crystal clear foresight I sold my bike on Thursday night. I had Friday off and five day's wicked shifts starting at one o'clock on Saturday afternoon and no bus service to work. All I wanted was something over 500cc and under £700 on the road, that I could ride to work the next day and all over the place in the coming months with nothing more than an oil change and the occasional new bulb.

The only advertiser who answered the phone in the local rag was the owner of a Suzuki GS550E. The bike was garaged and very clean. It had a filled oil leak on the alternator cover, shot steering head bearings, no tax, the wrong engine number in the logbook (I later out found that it was an early engine), a worn out rear tyre and I thought it was one of the least exciting bikes I had ever ridden. So, I bought it for £505 after some pretty hard bargaining.

A new set of throttle cables at £16 (which didn't fit properly) and a set of pattern taper roller head bearings were fitted on Saturday morning. An oil change a week later and a used Pirelli Phantom was fitted at the princely cost of £5. I am not noted for religious attention to chain maintenance but even I was surprised at having to adjust the sagging links after just a week and remove a link after three weeks. Six weeks and 1500 miles saw a new chain and back tyre - the Pirelli was down to the cords in the carcass (it had 3mm left when I fitted it). The rear suspension was a joke which, 18 months later, is even less funny.

Over the years, Suzuki seem to be very fond of coining acronyms so it is surprising that they haven't thought of Dabs to describe the GS550's brakes. As in Delayed Action Braking System, a perfect description of the way the triple discs don't work in the wet. Screaming sintered metal pads don't make any difference, so don't bother trying them. The calipers need stripping once a year to prevent them binding and the rear disc pedal needs more of a stamp than most drums.

Most of the bike's limitations can be attributed to its excess weight for a 550 at well over 450lbs. The GS550E is very stable both at very low town speeds in traffic and through some very fast bends but it does need a lot of hustling around corners, so I tried fitting some higher, wider bars off an old CB500T - much better at low speeds but a real pain above 60mph. I soon changed back to stock bars.

The bike has the same kind of stability as the better British bikes, probably thanks to the relatively huge 19" front wheel. It doesn't get blown about by sidewinds and even the soggy rear suspension doesn't really upset it, I sometimes wonder how good it would be with decent suspension. It really needs to drop a hundred pounds to make use of the engine's minimal power, although there are big bore kits that take the engine out to as much as 740cc, a huge increase in capacity that just goes to show how tough is the basic engine - could this be the strongest multi around?

The weight combined with a small engine sprocket give the GS its Achilles heel - chain life is brief. Cheap chains or expensive heavy duty types last for no more than 4000 miles whether they are bathed in Linklyfe or left to rot. The sprockets seem to last forever but link removal becomes a regular ritual. The proximity of the clutch pushrod to the engine sprocket makes it impossible to fit a decent sized (as in 21 teeth as opposed to 16) cog.

A cheap front Conti fitted for £20 with a new tube has shown little wear in 8000 miles and a Michelin M48 still has 2mm at its worst wear point after the same mileage, although it does now whiteline quite badly.

Power delivery is never shocking, although it can be run up to between 90 and 95mph without too much effort or stirring of a typically precise Suzuki gearbox. Beyond that, it needs a long road and an awkwardly crouched rider to extract the top speed of around 110mph. Secondary vibes are never very apparent, I guess most of them are soaked up by the sheer mass of the engine and frame.

Comfort is reasonable up to around 150 miles, when it's time to look for a petrol station anyway, whilst pillions are still talking to me, so it can't be that bad on the back. Styling is either bland or classic depending on your point of view; cycle part paint ain't too bad, most of the chrome is still there, although the poor old engine alloy suffers from corrosion.

If I haven't mentioned the engine yet it's because it has drawn little attention to itself. A bad oil leak around the tacho drive prompted me to take the cam cover off. The leak was caused by some jerk destroying the thread and repairing it with Araldite, which eventually worked loose. While the cover was off, the valve clearances were checked and needed no correction, just as well as the camshafts control buckets and shims. The camchain and tensioner both looked in good shape. The previous owner told me he had not looked at the engine for ten thousand miles and I'd done the same; no mean achievement for any engine. Regular oil changes are a must, though, and the filter clogs up quite quickly so that should be changed at the same time.

The earlier GS550 had slide carbs instead of CVs and a kickstart. These two features are its greatest assets. The bike will accept any aftermarket exhaust with minimal changes to the jetting but the later versions with CV carbs are reputed to be extremely temperamental about non standard parts (not true, I ran mine on a straight through system after the silencers fell apart and then on Goldie megas with no trouble - Ed). The later engine is all of three horsepower more powerful - really noticeable after eight years abuse and neglect - and the almost self adjusting nature of CV carbs make them much more economical.

With a very loud, almost baffle free system of unknown origin, my slide carb engine did between 35 and 50mpg. I generally find published figures are optimistic compared to mine and I only work them out when I've really got nothing better to do. The lower figure is typical of the cold commuting thrash and the higher figure is for motorway journeys in warmer weather. A 1500 mile round trip to the Orkneys used 45mpg and 200mpp of oil due to a leak. Wynn's Stopleak cured that without replacing the miscreant O-ring but the problem has gradually reappeared. Cans of stuff scientifically designed to plug mysterious and inaccessible leaks should be treated with great caution as they can also block the narrow oilways in modern engines.

Although my GS550E has the kickstart engine, it also has the later more common chassis with cast wheels. Presumably two wrecks had been combined in the past, but the job done well enough not to cause any hassle. A few gobs of Hammerite and some steel wool up the exhaust got it through its most recent MOT. In 18 months it has only let me down once, an electrical fault cause by chafed wires. I've never felt tempted to keep a bike more than a year before but the Suzuki has drawn so little attention to itself that I didn't notice how long I'd owned it until the other day, which must be a recommendation.

Recently, I was riding two up with a passenger who'd never sat on a bike before but who likes driving fast. Some wally with an XRi-something was determined to make an exhibition of himself at the lights, so I made an exhibition of myself and missed third gear on full throttle. When the tacho needle had unwrapped itself there was a very expensive sounding misfire and no power at all. The compression gauge when later applied to the engine registered in the sod all zone on one cylinder and well down on another. Bent valve stem? Rings broken? Gasket blown? Who knows, because within a week the GS had cured itself, as I had half believed it would. Would I buy another? I'm not planning to sell this one yet.

Skid

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The engine sounded like new and the gearbox was still slick. The rest was rat city, the result of 15 years and over 100,000 miles of abuse. The owner had panicked when I'd tried to give one of the silencers a kick - it was hanging on by just a thread of good metal. He was looking for £500, reckoning the engine had plenty of life left and that the frame was still as straight as the day she'd come out of the factory. Needed a bit of work to get the MOT, but a good GS would fetch £1500 and wasn't I lucky to get there ahead of the pack. Eventually, I agreed to pay £375.

There followed an arduous couple of weeks which saw the bike taken down to the frame and a large pile of bits, including the wiring loom, petrol tank and back wheel, dumped, as they were beyond sensible, or at least safe, reclamation. The massive 550cc DOHC mill was left alone, save that many days were spent lovingly bringing back the glow to its once bead-blasted cases, with black paint hiding the ravages of time to the cylinder and head.

Breakers visited, about a hundred notes spent on decent cycle parts. Another fifty on new bearings all round. Amazingly, both the Avon tyres and the chain and sprockets were all in fine fettle, although the rear inner-tube, with twenty patches, was replaced with a new one. Cleaning up the cast wheels was a major trauma but matt black paint hid most of the damage. The electrics were sorted with car type rectifier and regulator, and exchange alternator, plus lots of wire. Universal cans on the ends of the existing downpipes solved the exhaust hassles.

Once it was all put back together I had a machine that looked a little worn around the edges but wasn't the kind of motorcycle that annoyed cops nor was likely to be taken away by the dustmen if left parked in the wrong place at the wrong time. Teething troubles were down to the fuel pipe coming apart and one of the new spark plugs not working properly.

Performance was somewhat lacking. It was a heavy old thing at 450lbs and not over-endowed with power even when new, around 50 horses. A 100,000 miles had had some effect on the go-juice. Standing starts were lethargic, the bike having a little zip between 5000 and 8000 revs, then going all dead again. A 95mph, flat out, top speed was a little embarrassing and it'd only happily cruise at 70 to 75mph.

A dead loss? Well, not really, because the bike did another 30,000 miles without needing anything more costly than a new chain and a couple of sets of relatively cheap tyres. It would run as if on rails for most of the time, a marvellously secure feel once over 30mph. At OAP velocities the front end liked tuck in, especially if the twin front discs grabbed on.

The brakes weren't to my liking, being over-powerful at low speeds but not brilliant at motorway speeds. I found using engine braking and down-changing through the box the preferable way of losing speed; the pads consequently never wearing out. The brakes hated wet weather, but despite riding through a couple of winters I never experienced any caliper seizures - judicious if potentially dangerous application of WD40 every week kept the calipers in good fettle.

With 134,000 miles under its wheels, the top end went all rattly - bear in mind that I never actually checked the valve clearances or balanced the carbs. There had always been a staccato rattle at tickover but was just the clutch, which seemed able to take massive abuse without in any way retaliating. By then the chassis had again degenerated to rat status - the cycle parts suck in water and spit out rust.

I was seriously thinking about off-loading the bike on the nearest breaker, but I thought I might as well have a look. Inspired by a mate of a mate who had a couple of boxes of GS bits, that I could have my pick of, for free. Turned out the valves had eaten into their seats, the camshafts were loose on their bearings and that the piston rings had snagged on the cylinders. The crankshaft was still solid and the gearbox had showed no signs of electing any false neutrals. All I had to find was a decent cylinder, which the breaker offered for £35.

Putting it all back together again was a breeze. There was obviously an excess of components but it was all very straightforward. The worst part of it was heaving the sheer mass of the engine back into the repainted frame. The motor had a fair amount of rattling on starting up but seemed a bit more urgent on the open road, the speedo flicking past the ton with almost gay abandon.

Encouraged, I did a 5000 mile Continental trip, in which the speedo stayed over 80mph for most of the time. Towards the end of the trip, the thrashing combined with 100 degrees of heat meant that the lubricant disappeared from the sump after one exhilarating 125 mile blast.

The waves of heat coming off the motor, plus the gearchange locking up in fourth, made me aware that perhaps all was not well. I staggered off the Suzuki (it wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world) as the engine died with an almighty clunk. I walked to the nearest garage to buy some bottles of extortionately priced oil. By the time I'd returned the engine had cooled down, turned over okay and started after a bit of grumbling and backfiring. It didn't want to know about more than 5000 revs, but it was only 75 miles to Calais, so we sauntered homewards on the back of prayers and blind faith in the rugged engineering of the Suzuki. It would've been sad to have to dump the poor old thing in some forsaken foreign field.

By the time we reached home the main bearings were rumbling and the gearbox only had half the ratios working - the sump was also near empty again. Still, I was pleased that I hadn't been stranded and a large amount of the cycle parts were in good fettle, something worth keeping.

The bike was dumped in the garage for a couple of months until I saw a local advert for a crashed 550 Katana. Most of the damage was to the front end and the frame. I really liked the style of the machine and as the clock read only 67000 miles there was probably plenty of life left in the motor - mine for £275.

I transplanted the tank, panels, seat and, of course, the engine. Took half a day, was a good way to build muscles. I was a bit annoyed to find that the new engine rattled away merrily, with a loud tapping noise from the top end...the valve clearances were way out. Once that was done, it burbled nicely and provided the bike with the best impetus yet - 110mph on the clock.

Bearing in mind the result of my previous excesses, I took it relatively easy. Although evocative and stylish, the tank/seat unit was ludicrously uncomfortable for anything other than brief bursts through town; sorted cheaply enough by using higher bars with a more radical pull-back, no great loss bearing in mind my newly moderate throttle hand.

What can I say? The new combo has done almost 50,000 miles without blowing up or causing any major hassles. Well, I did find that the front cast wheel was going the same way as the back - cracking up around the hubs, this with 170,000 miles of abuse - and in the machine's defence I do a fair bit of pavement hopping. They are ubiquitous wheels in the Suzuki range, easily and cheaply replaced, but worth checking every month, or so, because the effect of them actually breaking up doesn't bear thinking about!

Even with everything in fine fettle, these aren't rip-snorting beasts of the highway, but they are safe, secure and very tough cycles that last twice as long as most Japanese tackle. The Katana's are more popular on the used market because of their brilliant styling but they also tend to be used a lot harder by the younger set.

The stock GS550, by its very moderate nature, appeals to the more mature owner, who often as not does many minor mods - I've just paid £800 for a 24000 miler with fully enclosed drive chain, neat BMW-style RS fairing, comfy leather seat and Vincent-style bars. A marvellously practical cruiser that I will take on another Continental jaunt this year...the other GS will remain in the fold, used when the weather turns foul. I really fancy a custom version, just to complete my collection...

T.F.

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After a year and 13000 miles with a rat 550 Katana, certain conclusions come to mind. The most obvious being that despite a neglectful 73000 miles worth of wear the DOHC four cylinder engine still whirrs away merrily. Less obvious was that I would become bored out of my head with the Suzuki. The result of slow steering and even slower performance!

That made me reluctant to do anything other than ride the bike into the ground, which judging by the state of the chassis was exactly what earlier owners, all seven of them, had done. It was the kind of bike that looked like it was due to fail, the past three or four owners had probably thought themselves well shot of the heap, but would've been amazed to find it still running!

My first run in with the bike was when one of the apparently original silencers decided to fall off. It was more rust than metal, anyway, cracking around its circumference a few inches up from where it mated with the exhaust down-pipe. Even having only one silencer on the 4-2 exhaust didn't upset the carburation, so mildly tuned was the 55hp engine.

As I expected, trying to take the exhaust off made the whole thing fall apart, old hacks tend to have bits that are held together by corrosion. Something of an appropriate shape was found in the breakers, hammered on; the 4-1 proved to be loud enough to cause next door's Dobberman to try to leap over a six foot wall to get at the bike. I couldn't expect much for twenty notes.

The next little trick was for the swinging arm bearings to wear so much that the slight weave became a monstrous wobble that not even I could ignore. Stability was generally solid, but with nigh on 500lbs of mass, ultra-conservative steering geometry and a 19 inch front wheel so slow turning that it ultimately limited speed through the twisties.

Whacking out the swinging arm spindle was another of those traumatic experiences so rendolent of life with old hacks. I had to put in a slightly less battered one along with a new set of bearings. For all I know (and it's damn all, really) the bearings might've been original. Whilst the back end was in a multitude of bits I thought I might as well strip the rear caliper which had worked once then seized up solid. It would've saved a deal of time, money and screaming if I'd just thrown it away and bought a replacement from the breaker, which is what I ended up doing eventually. It was cheaper to buy a complete caliper with part worn pads than a new set of pads.

The only other problem with stripping the back end down was that it revealed the cogs to be so worn it was a wonder that the chain, short of five links, stayed on and explained a lot of the transmission slop. After selling some garden implements I was able to splash out on some mildly worn items.

Was the Suzuki transformed? Like hell, the weaves had died down and the back brake made a half-hearted, albeit noisy, attempt at working, but the transmission was as unpredictable as the longevity of a heavily tuned FS1E. The gearchange linkage was so worn it ratted whenever I tried for a fast change to help out the slow revving motor, usually ending up in a false neutral. It was something I got used to over the months.

The front discs were worn down to the metal, screeched a lot, but still pulled up the bike quite well. They totally lacked feel, taking a handful would lock the wheel up as solidly as if they'd seized on. This proved terrifying on wet roads and persisted even after I'd scored a set of new pads in a moment of wild extravagance. The best that could be said for the front end was that the calipers never seized up.

The worst thing that happened to the engine was one of the inlet manifolds cracking up. This proved elusive, I went through plugs, wiring and even balanced the carbs before finding the cause of the poor running and misfiring. The combination of tape and Araldite fixed the manifold, but only after pulling off the bank of carbs.

The engine proved brilliant in its reliability, with electronic ignition, auto-camchain tensioner plus shim and bucket valves that had probably never needed adjustment since the bike was rolled out of the factory. The clutch rattled and dragged after about 30 minutes in heavy traffic and I would never have trusted it to the excess of abuse necessary to make the GS wheelie.

One thing that pissed me off was the daily need for chain adjustments, even with reasonable components fitted. I spent a whole afternoon lining up the wheels only to find it made not one iota of difference. Every time the wheel spindle nut was tightened up it tried to turn the wheel against the adjusters, making it a tiresome business to set up the correct tension and keep the back wheel straight. Chains rarely lasted for more than 3000 miles even if links were taken out.

The part worn tyres never lasted any longer, but at least they could be used down to the carcass without throwing the chassis into any evil wobbles and just about any make would work okay. I was always in a murderous mood by the time I'd ripped one tyre off and replaced it, the profile of the cast alloy rims made it excruciatingly difficult to put a tyre on without puncturing the inner-tube. One case where persistence didn't make perfect, even though I'd had too much practice.

Why consumables should wear so rapidly was way beyond my comprehension. It wasn't as if the engine put out searing power. It would run from 1500 to 10,500 revs without any sign of a powerband, although if I was in a particularly perceptive frame of mind I would pick up a hint of urgency come 7000rpm. Its excess mass must've been tearing the already worn consumables apart.

The Katana wasn't particularly nice to ride long distances. The sharp edges of its huge petrol tank (fuel was a reasonable 55mpg) dug into my thighs, the thin seat turned hard after only 75 miles and the long stretch over the tank only made sense at a 90mph cruising speed, something which the GS was still capable of, although further acceleration up to the top speed of 110mph was so slow I could've chanted half the bible in the time it took; not that I knew half or even 1% of the Good Book. The angle of the bars also made an otherwise light clutch feel Harley-heavy after 15 minutes of town riding. In its favour, the seat height was low.

The centrestand was absolutely diabolical, causing me to fall over twice. Unless you had Rambo-like muscle the routine was to put a foot down on the stand prong whilst standing to the rear of the bike, heaving with one hand on the back of the seat as all my weight was transferred on to the stand prong. This left me with one leg waggling in the air as the bike slowly ascended on the stand. The back wheel ended about a foot off the ground! Were not perfect balance and coordination combined, the result was that I'd fall over with the bike on top of me. The frequency of chain adjustments meant there was no easy way to avoid this horror, the wife refusing to lend a hand however much I pleaded. I think she was hoping I'd give up motorcycling in disgust. The sidestand, to be fair, banked the bike over at a safe angle and could be used on adverse cambers, and the like.

So, the Katana has proved less than perfect but then it only cost £225 (it was advertised for £450 but everyone else had turned up, took one look and said no thanks)! The problems have been spread far enough over the year to give the impression that it's really not such a bad bike........it's only after writing down this litany of complaints that I realise how troublesome it's been. I would be more than willing to put up with such faults had the GS turned out to be a more interesting bike to ride.

Yes, it'll get you to work on time each and every day, will even cruise fast enough on the motorway, and I don't expect the motor to give any trouble until past 100,000 miles, but the grin factor has been distinctly lacking. As I said at the beginning, I'm bored out of my head and am even thinking about giving it a clean so I can change it for something else!

Hugh Symmonds

****************************************************

The motor sounded like a machine gun with epilepsy. I pulled off the road whilst we still had a chance. I knew the symptoms only too well. The battery was draining faster than the alternator could supply power. There wasn't enough of a charge to supply all four cylinders, causing the engine to cut out. I whipped off the seat, surveyed the home-made rectifier and regulator - the stock stuff was such crap that it wasn't worth buying and the one Superdream rectifier/regulator I'd tried had gone up in flames. Life, with a worn out GS550 was never boring.

My electrical solution consisted of a bit of alloy plate (to act as a heatsink) to which a couple of car rectifiers and regulators were bolted. These were ridiculously cheap (a fiver a set from an electronics shop) but never lasted for more than six months. The solution was to duplicate the circuit; when one failed all I had to do was swap over two connectors and I had a brand new circuit, the burnt out components being replaced when I did the next service.

Of course that didn't take into account the times the alternator burnt out. Fortunately, it tended to go a coil at a time rather than all at once, allowing me to wire the light coils into the main circuit. Invariably, I was able to bodge the wiring so that I always got home. When I went touring I always took along a spare alternator, not a difficult job just a tedious one.

Anyone who's gone around the clock on a Suzuki GS550 will be well aware of the way the electrical hassles dominate life with this otherwise tough old machine. The electrics can turn so nasty that it's possible to pick up a perfectly nice machine for a song just because the charging circuit chronically blows fuses, bulbs and black boxes.

My bike is an '84 model, so anyone who thinks they got better with the later models is foolishly mistaken. There are other well chronicled problems as well, but a mild crash at 65000 miles gave me the excuse I was looking for to bung on a newer front end (off a GSX1100 Kat), thus benefiting from longer lasting calipers that allowed braking both more powerful and sensitive than the awful (at that mileage, anyway) stock units.

I had long abandoned the stock back wheel, with its permanently seized disc brake, in favour of an earlier model drum braked wheel. The remaining nasty was a chain that wore out in 5000 miles. A bigger engine sprocket, Scottoiler and home-made (in aluminium) chainguard doubled that, which I thought barely acceptable.

These mills knock out 54 horses when new, which age and mileage does little to diminish. They really are massively overbuilt and can take a hell of a lot of abuse. With 106,000 miles done all I had to do was put in two camchains and one set of clutch plates. Religious oil and filter changes must've helped but I very rarely did the valves or carbs.

This excess of engineering does have its price - too much mass. A careful pruning of the chassis plus plastic mudguards, alloy tank, GRP seat, alloy pegs, etc, brought the weight down to near 400lbs, gave the GS a much better feel. A few extra horses were extracted by combining a 4-1 exhaust with K and N air-filters. The engine noise was joyous, with a stronger power play between 7000 and 10,000 revs, although the motor would chuff along quite happily at lower revs.

The larger but narrower tank, with definitive cut-outs for my knees, along with non-standard pegs and bars positioned in imitation of an old BMW boxer, provided a brilliant riding position that would let me hold 100mph for a couple of hours without any agonies. Town comfort wasn't ruined, any deficiency in leverage afforded by the narrower bars more than made up by the lower mass. It was in many ways the perfect middleweight, which is how I ended up keeping it so long and doing such a high mileage.

Finish varied. The wheels tended towards corrosion and the frame paint became so bad at 70,000 miles that I ended up stripping everything off and having it powdered coated - it was a very cold winter, I was quite happy to take the bike off the road for a couple of weeks. With conventional rear shocks (Koni-Dial-A-Rides) there were no nasty linkages to worry over, although I had to replace every chassis bearing at least once. I take the swinging arm spindle out every 10,000 miles to grease it. Engine cases were mottled with corrosion when I bought the bike, had to take them off, have them bead-blasted - left them with a nice looking sand cast appearance that needs a polish every 500 miles.

The GS is a bit slow turning but can be made to hustle with a bit of muscle. Its best point is that it'd tighten up its line without going into a shaking fit when the throttle's backed off in corners - brilliant, when you've overcooked it and are staring death in the face. The most natural reaction is to kill the throttle, which on some bikes produces vicious wobbles, but not the friendly GS. The worst point is touching the front brake in slow corners, as the wheel will try to flip up. It's just a question of training yourself to use the back brake or engine braking.

With the non-standard suspension, the ride's quite taut but the modified riding position is so relaxed that my body is perfectly positioned to absorb most of the bumps. Large pot-holes shake the forks and throw me a foot out of the seat, but, as in all other circumstances, the GS maintains its line. It really is a secure beast, even on 90mph A-road or motorway curves there's no hint of a weave. It can be heeled so far over that I had to cut back the sidestand's prong, having long ditched the main stand as it was too difficult to use. As mentioned, that stability comes at the price of having to take it through S-bends slowly or by expending a lot of muscle.

With stock, worn, suspension it does weave a bit and lacked the precision of my machine. I'd found that Roadrunners suited the bike well, lasting over 10,000 miles a set, and didn't experiment with any other makes. A friend swears by Metz's on his GS650 but they only last 5000 miles! The discs aren’t standard, but for those interested I found Ferodo pads lasted 8000-10,000 miles, although it has to be admitted I'm not a heavy braker, preferring to ride in a smooth and predictable manner.

The bike looks neat rather than immaculate but it has surprising staying power. I know some rich gits who own newish BMW boxers and bricks. I tagged along on one cruise down through France to Nice, where one of them owned a house. They were a bit patronising about the GS, which was then sporting 92000 miles but running as well as ever. I had the French porkers on my side, only a maniac would try to get away with more than the ton and these were sensible chaps. The poor old GS was cruised at 90 to 100mph for hours on end, they having suddenly decided to do the trip in one go. They had fairings to hide behind I just had my BMW inspired riding position; if it'd rained I would've been in big trouble. Much to their annoyance I stayed with them, could still walk and the only sign of this abuse the GS showed was the sump level down to the minimum mark. Mind you, I went home at my own pace; once was enough and I didn't feel like pushing my luck.

Part of the GS550's charm is the absence of vibration, what secondary vibes the unit does emit are absorbed by the hefty engine cases and tubular frame. One of guys on a K100 was still shaking hours after getting off the brick and one of the boxer owners had cracked his exhaust stay. With the 4-1 and cammy engine nature it's also full of enough character to make life interesting, having a dual nature, either as a relaxed if fast cruiser or throttle snappy hustler. The stock bike tends much more towards the former than the latter, but they are easy to uprate into a more useful spec.

It is possible to break the engine. Just leave the old engine oil and filter in for, say, 10,000 miles. Luckily, the rattles and knocks are easily identified when the motor's thus abused. Not to be confused with a low rev knocking, which comes from the clutch, and should disappear when the throttle's opened. A little bit of smoke when started from cold isn't a worry, but it should disappear once the motor's warm. Camchains last 40-50,000 miles but the tensioner's good and doesn't need regular attention.

There are all kinds of GS550s on the market, from complete rats for a couple of hundred quid to immaculate, low mileage examples for over a grand. There are lots of bits off bigger Suzuki models that can be used to uprate them into a better spec. I've got my bike exactly how I want it now, don't want to sell it or trade it in for anything else. The GS is the perfect bike for my needs, and it'll be a very sad day when the engine finally fails. If you hate electrics, give this one a miss, but apart from that it's brill!

Dave Harris

 

 

 

Suzuki GS250

I've owned my 1983 Suzuki GS250 twin for the past six years. It was a low mileage, pristine bike when I bought it and now is a 60,000 mile rat. What happened? I started off full of good intentions but after six months became so bored and pissed off with the little vertical twin that I decided it wasn't worth the effort of doing regular maintenance or even cleaning it.

It's interesting to compare the current state with the newish bike. In good nick top speed was 85mph, fuel nearer 70 than 60mpg and handling whilst dubious was basically safe. The brakes worked after a fashion but the front disc would cause the forks to judder slightly during emergency stops.

The custom looks brought a lot of wrath down upon my head from real bikers. They took a great delight in taking the piss, although I did get my own back once by burning off a wallowing Harley through a series of curves. I caught the grimace of the bearded rider in the mirrors and felt sure that he would have given me the finger had not letting go of his bars thrown his bike off the road.

I have to admit, though, that such antics were a bit dangerous as it was easy to catch the stands on any bumps in the curves. There was also a tendency to run wide and shake the tiller-like bars when running out of corners under hard acceleration. The only way the bike would accelerate was by keeping the throttle wide open and changing up through the box sans clutch. This technique perhaps explaining a chain life of 5-7000 miles!

The first sign of age came at 13000 miles when some holes developed in the silencers. The noise didn't increase significantly but this mere interference with correct exhuast flow was sufficient to put several flat spots in the rev range, futher emphasizing the need to rev the motor until it dies. Even more trouble came at 15000 miles when I decided the solution was to fit a 2-1 exhaust. After much fiddling I managed to get the engine to run above 5000rpm but below that it either stalled dead or misfired depending on weather conditions. Fuel improved to about 75mpg, which indicated that the engine was running lean.

That exhaust is still there but very rusty now. The Suzuki won't do much more than 70mph and turns in a mere 55mpg; not an impressive combination. The front brake doesn't work any more.......they needed a strip down ever 6-7000 miles to avoid permanent seizure but the calipers are so worn that even new seals don't help. I don't use the bike for anything other than short hops so until the MOT is due I can survive.

Fond memories of summer tours stop me throwing it off the side of the nearest mountain. One good thing about the bike was comfort - as long as you can take a 50 to 60mph cruising speed! After 20,000 miles with the suspension well shot that kind of speed was the most that could be safely maintained. I could do 200 to 400 miles in day without too many complaints.

Vibration was never a problem until about 35000 miles when some tingling got through to the tank and pegs. More than 150 miles in a day would leave me less than enamoured with the little Suzuki. Which wasn't a complete disaster as the bike had become less than steadfast in its reliability on long runs.

The first time I was caught out was when the CDI went down. Complete ignition failure 70 miles from home. Luckily, I was only a five mile push from a Suzuki dealer. Of course, they didn't have one in stock but agreed to take one out of a used bike in the showroom if I was willing to pay the new price for it. I didn't have much choice.

The next little trick was for the rear wheel bearings to start grumbling. The already weird handling became wild, with wobbles and a certain tendency to run right off the road every time I banked over a few degrees. I made it the 15 miles home without needing to resort to pushing.

At 42000 miles the cables decided it was time to start snapping. The throttle was the first then the clutch. New cables are real rip-offs but I had no time to make up my own. The original battery then decided it was time to go dead but it didn't do the usual trick of taking out all the other electrics. The only other problem I had was with the indicators flashing beserkly - fixed by using a car control box.

By the time 48000 miles were up I was expecting the engine to fail but frequent oil changes had paid off......I hardly ever checked the valves or carbuartion, they seemed to have worn into permanent settings. Of course, there was a bit of oil seeping out of the engine gaskets and a gradual diminishing of power output.

I once tried to take off the clutch cover to investigate drag at low revs but the engine screws refused to budge. The only one I managed to shift snapped off. After that I decided to leave well alone.

Once I'd fitted the new battery it whirred away the starter motor so furiously that after a week it jammed solid. A hunt around the scrap-yards found one in slightly better nick. Starting had always been good just so long as the spark plugs were changed ever 2500 to 3000 miles. The only time it refused to start was when the ignition coil started to die, although a bump start would still work.

The latter was hard going as the sick front brake always had pads that dragged heavily against the disc and for a lot of the time the chain was half seized up due to the need to keep it going for as long as possible. For such a relatively light motorcycle, pushing the Suzuki around at low speeds is absurdly hard work.

Recently, the running became rather too rough, tracked down to a split carb diaphragm, a common problem on Suzuki twins. Various solutions to this that avoid the horrendous cost of a new one, mine was to Superglue the rubber back together. Not a perfect solution as it's still a bit rough running but on such an old, tired hack it soon fades into the background.

The swinging arm bearings are now becoming a bit slack; the front fork seals went about 4000 miles ago (drain forks before the MOT test) and the rear shocks are down on the stops if I'm ever foolish enough to put a pillion on the back. Handling is okay up to 40mph! It's a useful way of persuading caged friends, by taking them pillion, that I really am completely mad, out of my head to be involved with this two wheel business. One guy, with an obvious lack of character, not to mention stiff upper lip, limped off the bike and promptly spewed up his dinner over an outraged ped. I sped off, left them to fight it out.

The most impressive part of the bike is the engine which has so far refused to fail. That said, it never made much more power than a good 125. The least impressive, the chassis, which in both looks and function, even when newish, was about twenty years behind the times.

I neither hate nor love the Suzuki. It isn't the kind of bike that causes much passion. I was forced to keep mine as I could not afford to buy anything else. Unfortunately, I still can't afford anything else so when the motor finally fails I'll be back to walking the streets or begging lifts from vengeful car drivers or equally insane friends with dubious rat-bikes.

Mike Barclay

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Weird shit. Buying a bike off a woman. She simpered like sex might be on the menu, but one look at her eyes persuaded me it'd be like putting me wick in a waste disposal unit. To be fair, the bike appeared in reasonable nick and the £750 price wasn't bad. I mumbled something about the exhaust being a bit tatty and the chain about to fall off. Would six hundred quid be alright? Her face turned into a Thatcher clone and if there'd been an hatchet near she might've turned nasty. £700 was hastily agreed, money and docs exchanged. She sweetly told me that it was due for an oil change and service. Bitch!

I was still swearing five miles down the road. Then it opened up into a dual carriageway and I thought might as well see if I'd bought another dog. The private bike market's all very well but it's dead easy to get it all wrong. However long you've been in the game and however much you know. The GS had a bit of a reputation for burning out its valves but this one was free of exhaust smoke and engine noises.

The engine's a bit gutless, all or nothing on the throttle. The gearbox was still slick and the clutch light. I used the throttle and box, roared up to 85mph when the bike ran out of spirit and I felt like I was going to be spat off the back by the wind blast. Maybe 90mph on a good day. Not bad for an old 250 with 52000 miles on the clock.

Home was a welcome sight. The high bars and set back pegs were not well matched. The seat was well padded and nicely shaped but not so good as to make up for the riding position. As little as thirty miles was enough to have me leap off to shake my legs like John Cleese in a tantrum. Oh well, can't expect perfection for this kind of money.

The bike was still shiny so all I had to do was change the oil, set the carbs and do the valves. This was when I found out someone had Araldited the sump plug in. It popped out when a five foot long steel pole was attached to the socket wrench and a couple of heavyweight mates persuaded to haul on it whilst I counterbalanced the machine. Easy, though I, ignoring the tearing and popping explosion of metal.

The only slight problem was that rather than come out, the surrounding alloy had snapped off, leaving a gaping hole in the crankcase! A gush of murky oil poured forth like blood out of an artery. To add insult to injury, I slipped on the slopping lubricant, falling on my arse. My mates found the whole incident hilarious and it soon became a bit of pub lore - how to ruin your engine and break your spine in thirty seconds!

Drunk, later that night, I phoned the previous owner up, gave her a piece of my mind, that was far too filthy to repeat here. Two hours later half the police force tried to knock the front door down. They interrogated me for half an hour, refusing to let me put any clothes on over my undies. Threats of being prosecuted as a sex pervert and stalker were left ringing in my ears once they went off to rig some evidence elsewhere. It's an unfair world.

An old school friend had a worldwide reputation as a bodger and was summoned from his cellar where he had a reputation for performing unsavoury acts on sixteen year-olds. No problem, alloy weld the plate back on after drilling and tapping the old plug to take a smaller bolt. I should've done the latter before wrecking the engine. This involved turning the bike upside down after taking off the tank and battery. It was then revealed that the petrol was sharing space with a bucketful of rust and the underside of the tank had been filled with GRP! I was beginning to get really angry!

Bodger nonchalantly did the work, only afterwards mentioning that I'd better flush the engine out a couple of times as a few blobs of molten alloy might be inside the sump! Putting the bike back together I managed to drop the battery on the garage floor, the resulting explosion of acid taking out the cat who'd been regally reclining on the concrete. He screamed in agony and leapt into next door's garden.

One new battery and used petrol tank later, I was ready for the road. Having decided the machine was jinxed, I went out in a mood of maximum paranoia and great restrain. As mentioned, unless you use the throttle you don't get anywhere fast, so I was soon stringing the bike out at maximum revs.

Handling was an odd mix. The suspension was harsh with a modicum of damping but there was something wrong with the front forks as they tended to amplify rather than damp down minor imperfections in the road surface. White-lines had the front wheel going all squirmy and cat's eyes made the bars try to swing from lock to lock unless I inputted a wrist-snapping amount of muscle.

I looked on the front wheel with suspicion. A cast job. Sure enough, the tyre was too narrow. It was also way down on psi. Turned out it lost 5psi a day. The cause was an inner-tube with more patches than original rubber, just waiting for the opportunity to blow up. New inner-tube plus Michelin to match the rear, quietened down the front end, though I suspected that the real solution would only come from a set of flatter bars to get more weight over the wheel.

Handling was then determined by the smoothness of the road, a mildly bumpy surface turning up a 70mph plus weave. A really knackered road made the Suzuki unsafe above 50mph, as the wheels didn't seem to want to go in the same direction. On the other hand, stability was fine on 80mph stretches of motorway despite the unlikely prone position I had to assume.

Fuel was around 60mpg, which given the throttle twitching was okay. Tyre wear was minimal, as was front pad wear. The chain, alas, was a different matter. Don't know why, but it needed loads of adjustment and fettling - the sprockets looked fine. I kept taking links out but it never broke.

Which is more than can be said for the old camchain. Snapped when I tried to start it one cold morning. It had always rattled a bit but no more than you'd expect on a bike of this age. This era of Suzuki's had much tougher camchains than other makes, the only time they go down is when the camchain tensioner sticks.

I was lucky, the broken camchain hadn't ruined the engine. One new camchain was all that was needed to revive the bike's fortunes. And some emery cloth and grease on the tensioner slider. The rattles were gone, the engine strangely quiet, but the performance was just the same. Barely adequate once I'd become used to the bike. So much so, that I'd often end up caning the GS close to the redline, just to provide some kicks.

Apart from the aforementioned mishaps, the engine did 13000 miles without causing any serious hassles. Don't know anything about its history, wouldn't believe anything that woman said! Might've been rebuilt, it was certainly bodged in parts. The alloy welding held up, the sleeved plug allowing me to do the mandatory 1000 mile oil changes - neglect this and you'll end up with a crankcase full of valve bits!

So it served its purpose well. As something to do the commuting, ride around on for fun and even haul down the motorway at safe speeds, it was an adequate tool. Inspiring it wasn't, and it's easy to see how many of them ended up neglected and run into the ground.

This means that there are lots of overpriced dogs out there. The cheap and nasty alloy means something as simple as a ruined screw thread can leave the motor close to wrecked. And it takes a keen eye to pick up clever bodging. Not to mention some inbuilt engine flaws. The electrics can also turn nasty, but mine was okay.

I saw one £1500 GS that was close to a rolling wreck. Another for £500 wasn't half bad, but needed a bit of chassis work. I paid and sold mine for £700, which seems about right given the potential pitfalls and the less than inspiring power. I probably wouldn't bother with another, but for someone looking for cheap wheels or working their way up the motorcycling game, they ain't bad.

L.K.