A 1992 Suzuki DR350 that had done just 2800 miles seemed too good a deal to miss, especially when the cost was very low and I had no machine available for the cross London commute. It wasn't so much the cost of the two buses and three tubes necessary that I objected to, although that was bad enough, it was the two hours travelling time in each direction that really got me going. Mind you, I did quite enjoy reading three novels a week.
I gave the bike a good going over but could find little to complain of, looking as it did pristine with no apparent signs of off-road abuse. The owner had lost his job and the bike had become just an expensive indulgence - I tended to believe him, he looked an honest kind of chap.
The test ride revealed a lively engine, a light chassis and that the motor would stall until properly warmed up. Starting had been a little difficult, with a poorly placed kickstart lever that made it awkward to start whilst aboard the bike. I figured that I could learn to adapt to its needs. Money was swapped for registration document, both of us happy with the deal.
The ride home was in the evening, with the light fading fast. 25 miles to do, I soon found the first problem with the DR, a mediocre front lamp that had a vague dip and an even poorer main beam. I have ridden on CD's and C90s that had worse lights but there did not seem much in it, although time does tend to cloud ones memories a little.
At least the Suzuki had an adequate turn of speed, being able to hang on to the tail lights of speeding autos - cruising the back roads at 70 to 80mph was no problem for the engine but I was a bit worried about running over a dead dog or displaced log.
After the thirty minute journey my eyes were a bit strained but otherwise the bike seemed fine. Fitted with a gear driven engine balancer the OHC engine had whirred away happily enough with no signs of the dreaded single cylinder vibes. I'd owned an XT350 with 28000 miles up for a while and had my eyeballs well shaken when I caned that engine in the lower gears.
If the DR350 appeared no faster it was at least one hell of a lot more sophisticated. This went for the handling as well, despite its trail orientated suspension it had none of the horrible wallowing of the old XT, feeling planted to the ground on my initial excursions.
In the wet, though, the OE tyres were not what could be called inspiring, the front more than the rear being an instant cure for constipation. At first it gripped well but I soon found it displayed a wild inclination to suddenly let loose, when by definition, I was way banked over. I soon discovered that thanks to its narrow engine and tough chassis serious damage was easy to avoid in low speed crashes. A pity the same could not be said for my elbow and knee.
A set of Avon Gripsters soon sorted out the road holding - they actually felt a little less secure on dry roads initially, but after about 500 miles this feeling disappeared - either the tyres being scrubbed in or my subconscious compensating for the effect.
A disc at each end seemed pretty damn silly for a trail bike, but on the tarmac they complemented each other well, having no problems pulling up the minimal mass of the Suzuki. It's too soon to comment on pad wear, caliper rotting or longevity of the discs, I'll just have to wait to see how things turn out.
Hopefully they will fare better than the frame paint which has already, with a mere 7,945 miles done, started to fall off in a couple of places. Rust formed the instant the paint disappeared and threatened to spread like wildfire had I not quickly cleaned it off and painted over it. The exhaust finish is also threatening premature demise. The rest shines up okay with a minimal amount of work.
I can take these minor problems in return for the way the DR can be snapped through London traffic - it must be one of the easiest of bikes to ride in town; although if spark plug changes are neglected every 2000 miles the mill will stall at low speeds and be a real bugger to start again. As long as you realise it's only a duff plug, no real hassle.
The journey that takes about two hours on public transport takes between 20 and 35 minutes on the bike, depending on traffic density and my own mood. I don't really approve of doing 60mph between lines of stalled cagers but the madness does grip me from time to time.
I tend to stick the bike in third or fourth, letting the motor slog it out, although to be truthful there is neither an excess of torque nor power below 4000rpm, although the engine is smooth down to 1500rpm whilst the transmission is slick whether under hard acceleration or just indulging in mild riding.
Long rides have not been indulged too often, about 250 miles of country lane snooping being the most I've done. The Suzuki proved fine for such abuse, the trail bike riding position giving loads of leverage for rapid cornering and the mere 93mph maximum speed not proving too much of a downer.
I've even hustled the DR along the odd fifty mile stretch of motorway without driving myself mad. A much greater distance or more than the 75 to 80mph I was doing would have probably led to severe stress to arms and neck, but that should be pretty obvious to anyone considering one of these bikes just from looking at them.
My greatest disappointment was fuel economy that but rarely bettered 60mpg, the absolute best being 64mpg. Usually it was worse than 50mpg, on such a small bike, albeit one with the aerodynamics of a brick shithouse, that was pretty appalling. I was amazed to get 36mpg on one flat out dash up the A1, but the bike was held at 85mph into a strong headwind for most of the distance.
The motor could also be quite heavy on oil needing a pint every 200 miles. The rest of the engine has been totally reliable, not needing any valve or carb adjustments; the rest automatic, so can be neglected with a clear conscience.
Comfort was acceptable for about the first 120 miles, thereafter the seat went rigid and fatigue set into my poor old neck muscles. The bike was still easy to control, once out of town the mill could be dumped into top gear and rolled along on the throttle, although both clutch and gearchange were so easy to use that I often played games on the box.
I'm pleased with the bike, intend to keep it for a couple of years and expect it to be a reliable warhorse.
Duncan Browning
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It all happened one quiet, cool Saturday morning when I was mooching around the local motorcycle dealers whilst she who must be obeyed did the rounds in the nearby supermarket. I'd be warned that whilst I was allowed to look I should not expect to be able to buy anything, a long list of essential domestic items had priority.
Being old myself, the plastic replicas were ignored in favour of a couple of ancient Japs that the chief mechanic had restored. Then I saw the DR350. Splendidly simple it seemed to my jaded eyes. The problem was that although new it was on special offer for that week only. I had been gently coaxing the wife into the belief that the cost of a C90 could be justified on grounds of economy, but I thought, bugger that, you only live once. After sitting on it for a few moments and playing with the controls I was smitten. One large cheque later the deed was done and I could collect it next week.
When the wife turned up I pointed out the DR in the window to her and received the usual primitive reaction, 'You don't want one of those stupid looking things...' It took me a few days to broach the subject and I was treated like a mass murderer for the next couple of weeks. By then I had the DR as consolation......
Kickstarting a 350cc OHC single into life could be a fearsome business in the sixties but modern engineering made it a cinch. Second kick and I was away. The gearbox was so light that I almost made a double change and the counterbalanced engine smoothed out after a slight thrumming at tickover. With its upright riding position, as long as you have reasonably lengthy legs, the DR was so relaxed that I was soon at home with the controls.
It took me an hour or so to become used to the fact that I no longer had to sit in traffic, that the Suzuki could be swiftly ridden through motorcycle sized holes. In the car the one way commute to work took a good 90 minutes, on the DR it only took 15 to 20 minutes. For the first month or so I did two hours extra overtime a day, the additional money helping to restore domestic tranquillity. I kept telling the wife that the 60 instead of the car's 30mpg would also help save money, conveniently forgetting to mention the stack of bread blown on helmet, gloves, boots, jacket and waterproofs.
One day I came home early, having tired of the grind by five o'clock. I rode really hard through the traffic, amazed at the responsive way the DR handled and content with the manner in which the long travel suspension soaked up the bumps. I'd never before done the trip so rapidly nor arrived home so early. Only problem was that I found the wife being rogered by the neighbour, the quiet of the DR's exhaust not intruding into their groans and cries.
Given that the wife had been a reluctant, once a month, think of England, type in my hands for the past five years I was well pissed off. I just walked out with a few clothes and essential gear, early the next morning emptying our bank accounts and leaving the bitch to pay off the huge mortgage she had insisted was necessary for our comfort and status. I also phoned my neighbour's wife up, to drop him in it! Nasty? Too right. Anyway, I had my freedom, about 7000 quid and, of course, the DR350...
I soon quit my job, headed down to the south of England. By then the DR was well run in but had trouble holding its own on the motorway, needing to be run along flat out at 85 to 90mph. The bike really needed taller gearing as it was never exactly relaxed, always feeling a little nervous. As it was summer I was quite happy to sleep rough, running the DR off the road over some fields until I found a secluded spot. On dry grass the handling was fine, but gravel had the back end swaying around like an out of control strimmer. I think it was probably the tyres as the swinging arm was a hefty, high-tech, glued together alloy job and the mono-shock rear suspension was always taut and responsive. Even with the wild machinations of the back tyre the DR350 remained controllable as it only weighed 250lbs.
Comfort on long runs was a bit of a problem. At any kind of serious speed my neck and arm muscles were seared with pain after about 45 minutes. The seat was hard and shaped by a sadist so that it felt like someone was trying to stick a sharp pole up my spine. Every hour I had to pull over, leap up and down to restore my muscle tone, and walk around for a good five minutes..... okay, I'm over fifty so more youthful dudes may fare better.
I ended up in London, as most refugees from the north tend to do. If the DR had been less nifty in town then I think the mad traffic would've had me off in no time at all. Special praise should go to the single disc brake, which lost speed in an instant but never came close to doing anything nasty. The trail bike set-up seemed ideally suited to the slimy, pot-holed roads and the chaos of millions of cars driven by frustrated madmen.
As London was very expensive I ended up doing a few months work as a despatch rider. I wasn't quite the oldest guy on two wheels but it was a close run thing. Not knowing where I was going and not riding like a lunatic meant I was probably the slowest DR ever seen in the capital, so I didn't make a fortune, just enough to pay for the rent, food and beer. The DR proved incredibly tiring to ride for ten hours in a day, day after day, and I'm sure that the whole process aged me by ten years.
Luckily, some contract work turned up where my age and experience in engineering were an asset rather than liability. The DR ended up being a bit neglected, doing a five mile, cross London commute every day. The first sign of the strain came at 8200 miles when it started to need ten kicks before the motor would fire. A new spark plug solved that but apart from one valve check and 2500 mile oil changes it hadn't received any serious attention.
By 10,000 miles the final drive chain was threatening to leap off the sprockets and the tyres were so dubious that in the wet I was having some inspiring slides. So some money went west on new consumables but generally the bike was proving very cheap to run, its simplicity paying off in the lack of maintenance chores.
By the time 10,000 miles were done I was getting to that point where I'd really like a bit more power, and although the bike was quite competent and I was becoming a little bored with the experience. I started looking around for a replacement.
I kept the bike until 12000 miles when the exhaust was looking a bit rusty and some frame paint had started to fall off, probably down to a very bad winter. General finish and longevity, except for the toughness of the engine, did not impress me. Still, the bike cleaned up nicely and I was given a large trade-in value on a Yam XT600E.
The Yamaha is much superior to the DR350S for road work, but I think I did the right thing starting out with the Suzuki - anyone who's been away from motorcycling for a long time will find the DR such an easy bike to ride that it'll let them get their old skills back without trying to kill 'em off.
J.G.