Suzuki GSX400F

The Suzuki GSX400F is a neat package of reasonable power, moderate weight and restrained, even pretty, styling. Not too much of that was evident in the heap that sat in my garage. Rust, alloy rot and oil leaks obscured the flow of its line. A top end that actually clanked rather than rattled offered thought for the paranoid; Suzuki's earlier attempts at four valve heads were fraught with sinking valves, overheating and early demise.

I'd ridden it home sixty miles in that state, after handing over 150 notes. It'd cruise at 60 to 70mph without too much hassle, but by the time we rolled up at the house, the battery was so flat that when I left the bike ticking over it stalled dead. This era of Suzukis famous for self-destructive electrics. Especially on the GSX400F, the crankcase sump was always minimal, running low on oil getting the engine so hot that it'd overheat the alternator. Melted windings could then short out the rest of the electrical system.

I had expected the worst, reflected in the price I'd paid. I actually enjoy tearing a motorcycle down to its bearings. Enjoy the fight with seized in spindles and the hassles with recalcitrant screws. Man versus rotted Japanese alloy. It took about a month to sort out the GSX. New consumables, bearings and cables. Secondhand head, calipers and electrics. A lot of rubbing down and touching up of the tank and frame. The chrome front guard looked newish, certainly wasn't original as they rust from the underside until they fall off. The seat, wheels and engine finish still looked tatty.

The bike felt quite good on the road, even though I hadn't done anything to the suspension. The rear shocks were not original, were much tauter than the forks which bounced on their stops every time I hit the twin front discs. Partly, that was down to the discs being slightly warped, giving the brake a very grabby feel. I couldn't find any better discs in the breakers, so it seems a common problem.

The refurbished electrics didn't seem to be working. The battery drained off after about 40 miles of commuting. I could tolerate that for a while as it went back and forth to work without completely flattening the battery. I'd fitted a used alternator but this had only some of the coils generating electricity. I sent it off to be rewound and about a week later I was back on the road with a battery that held its charge.

I soon came to enjoy the Suzuki in the traffic, being narrow and light enough to make full use of its 45 horses. On new Avon tyres it had a nice, secure feel that allowed me to fling it around like a 250. My disregard for its age, revving the motor to 11,000 in second and third, had the engine churning out the vibration like a loosely secured air-conditioner. The tank blurred between my legs and my hands went dead after about five minutes of this abuse.

The bellow from the rotted exhaust meant I never had to worry about using the horn to make cagers aware of my careering path. I often ended up burning off a layer of front rubber when they made their move regardless of their knowledge of my presence. Perhaps that explained the way the calipers quickly started weeping brake fluid. The first I knew of this was the lever coming back to the bars, the bike charging forward rather than stopping.

The brand new Merc that the front wheel hit was heavily creased before it cracked up. I bounced off the seat, my groin whacking the bars which rudely, and incredibly painfully, twitched between my legs as the front wheel collapsed. Mercedes are tough cars, the wrecked door and wing had not gone in so far as to injure the driver. A grotesque city type, who shouted above my wailing, that he was a lawyer and was going to sue my butt off. Fortunately, the position of the car made it obvious that he had turned out of the traffic into my path and the police, for once, gave the cager a lecture on dangerous driving. I almost smiled through the tears.

The GS550 front end didn't go straight on but it was the kind of mechanical challenge that I revelled in. It only took a weekend to put the bike back on the road. That was when things started to go rapidly down hill. Rushing across London during the night, playing a fairly intense game of dodgems with the cars, the electrical system ceased to function. Suddenly finding myself with a dead engine and no lights in the midst of crazy psychopaths had the adrenalin going wild, as I paddled the Suzuki into the gutter.

The fuse box was charred beyond recognition. The regulator/rectifier unit (used, off a CX650) was not much better off and the area beneath the seat was splattered with battery acid. The seat subsequently fell apart. There was nothing for it but to push the bugger the four miles home. I had plenty of time to muse on the unfairness of life, the weight of the Suzuki and the poor design of the disc brakes that left the pads dragging.

What appeared to have happened was that the crash had jolted one of the alternator wires on to the top of the engine, where it had a chance to burn through and short out the whole electrical system. I ran the bike with just a battery and no charging system for a couple of months until I could locate the parts needed as cheaply as possible. As I had plenty of time, I bought a book on alternator rewinding and ended up doing that job myself at minimal cost.

To celebrate the complete electrical restoration, and the arrival of warm weather, I headed for the East Coast and the delights of rural England. By the time I came home, after about 450 miles of hard charging, the top end was rattling and some smoke was escaping from the exhaust on the overrun. When I kicked the silencer in annoyance, it creaked, cracked and ended hanging off the 4-1 downpipe rather lopsidedly....

It occurred to me, as I looked at the burnt out exhaust valves, that the straight through, rusted exhaust might have been responsible for the damage, causing the engine to run lean and overheat. Good cylinder heads for this model are extremely rare but I managed to locate some used valves that I ground into the passable valve seats. A cheap, rusted universal megaphone was added at the grand cost of £2.

Neither the straight through exhaust nor the megaphone had much effect on the power delivery, which was basically serene to 7500rpm and from then on harsh and horny. As I tended to use the top end of the rev range all the time I was quite content with 55mpg and negligible oil consumption between 1000 mile changes. That was about the only maintenance the Suzuki got, the carbs didn't need any attention and the valves only lost their clearances when something terminal happened inside the cylinder head. That was my theory, anyway.

Most of the mileage that followed was hardcore commuting, which the Suzuki handled with a natural ease. I tried to avoid overloading the electrical system by not using the lights or horn, but batteries still expired in less than six months and bulbs would blow. Must have been some voltage surges getting through. There were always minor problems, as on any hack, with rotting calipers, quick stretch chains, bits falling off, etc but it rarely failed to take me back and forth to work at high speed with a lot of fun thrown in for free.

After a year the clock had gone over 45000 miles. I thought I'd had quite good value out of it and it was time to move on to something in better condition that I could feel safe in using for long distance touring. In its prime, the GSX could cruise at 90mph in reasonable comfort for a couple of hours but my example was too full of rattles, knocks and burning electrics to trust for much more than 50 miles in a day. The suspension had gone off, as well, making what, new, had been a svelte handler become very vague in fast bends, with all kinds of shakes and wobbles threatening that any attempt at a high speed run would probably end with a multiple surgery session in the nearest hospital.

Appearance was so poor and engine so noisy that I only wanted £200. This resulted in a constantly ringing telephone. For some reason, no one believed my honesty in calling the bike a useful hack for town work but otherwise a complete dog. Many were the people who turned up who went away cursing the state of the bike. Not at any price was their reaction. Finally, a true road rat turned up, handed over a filthy pile of tenners with the injunction that I'd have to ride it back to his house, with him on the pillion, some 45 miles away.

There didn't seem any easy way of getting out of that. I knew the suspension wouldn't like our combined mass but didn't quite expect the motor to churn out such an excessive amount of vibration. I pushed on as hard as I dared, about 90 minutes later pulled up outside his house. Even the exhaust note was drowned out by the furiously knocking main bearings. I gave him back a hundred quid, figuring I was losing my sense of timing.

Harry Reynolds

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Style is everything in Japan. It's that old thing about the guy with the smallest cock having the biggest car or the chap with the maximum flash motorcycle having the lowest self-esteem. As the Japanese are retro mad it didn't take much thought for Suzuki to re-invent the Katana, which was so innovatively shaped in its day that it could still pass as a thoroughly modern motorcycle had not its form been so well assimilated by the motorcycling masses. Japanese licensing laws and their small stature means the Kat is only available as a 250 or 400 rather than 1000 or 1100cc monsters.

The four cylinder engine, despite the fining, is derived from the watercooled Bandit motor, but slightly detuned from 60hp at 12000rpm to 53hp at 10,500rpm, although maximum torque is still developed at 9500rpm. The GSX400S is a much more compact machine than the old 1100, weighing only 400lbs. The tank seems narrower and slightly shorter than of old, although the seat is the same piece of hard sculptured abnormality that's as uncomfortable as it's pretty (the pillion perch is relatively plush). The overall riding position wasn't as comfortable as of old, marred by too low bars and footrests mounted a good four inches too far forward.....shades of seventies bikes, there. My wrists were angled so that both the throttle and clutch became heavy going after 15 minutes in town.

The six speed gearbox was one of the sweetest I've ever experienced. The motor didn't put out shovel loads of torque, but whirred away efficiently below 8000rpm in a clean running if rather antiseptic way. It was easy enough to change up and down the box without risking wrist strain on the clutch. The motor never really felt like it was making over 50 horses, was too civilised, and too lacking in any violent impulses, for that. Around 12000 revs tingling vibes began to set in, mostly in the pegs. Taking it to 13000 in third really blitzed the chassis, but power had long since peaked and it was really just thrashing the motor out of boredom, waiting to see what would break. Nothing did, of course; an exercise in futility.

As I said, this bike is about style; anyone looking for wild performance out on the edge would be better off with one of the Suzuki's harder, meaner cousins. That style over all else dumps modern ergonomics in favour of iron age pain; which is fine if you're Japanese, when pain thresholds are much higher than for effete Westerners (if you don't believe me, go to the hospital for a jab) and for this pampered boy more than 30 minutes on the Katana was akin to being tortured with sharp knifes.

The GSX had a slight top heaviness, nothing compared with the old 1100, but just enough to make me slightly wary of flinging the bike recklessly through chaotic traffic for the first couple of days. Riders short of leg will find themselves in panic attack country. Once I'd become reassured that it wasn't going to relentlessly flop right over, I speeded up my town riding to a tolerable level. The thin 18'' front tyre never felt too happy in combination with the fat 17'' rear, which made for a skittish feel over anything less than a perfectly smooth road surface. Road banding or lines gave the front end a queasy feel; the tyre never wholly convincing in its grips when a bit of rain splattered the surface.

Indeed, rain proved to be less than fun. Water was sprayed off the tiny screen straight into my neck, my hands were similarly doused and the engine would get a fit of the stutters when the rain fell really heavily. Water found its way into the groove between fairing and tank, running down to swamp the spark plug recesses. As a thoroughly modern motorcycle there was no way the plugs were accessible without tearing off the petrol tank and plastic. So fatal was the ingress of water that there were already rust spots under the one year old tank!

The frame followed the trend set by the rest of the bike. What you could see looked reasonably robust, an imitation, even an improvement, of the old 1100 Katana trellis. When the tank was removed, though, the bracing around the headstock looked minimal and the upper frame a touch scanty.

With the mismatched rubber it made for some interesting antics if the speedo was pushed beyond the ton, bringing in some weaves and wallowing that were all too redolent of the machines that these bikes are based upon. I didn't experience any speed wobbles even when I managed to get the reluctant machine to touch 115mph, but it was, to my mind, a close run thing when the road surface became a little bumpy.

The riding position left me perfectly placed to take a battering from any road bumps the suspension failed to absorb (and there seemed an awful lot of them), so trying to do a 100 miles in an hour not only left me battered and bruised but I could barely walk for about 30 minutes. Some motorcycles are so scintillating that such behaviour can be forgiven, but the biggest edge the Katana possesses is its lack of comfort.

On smooth, rapid roads it tracks well enough, can be twitched through the bends without too many frightening lurches and will even leap off the top of small hills without messing up its chassis. It's more like an eighties GSX550 than a nineties machine, with the same malign attributes lurking under the initial impression of good-heartedness. The 250 version even has the same paint job as the old GSX series, which looks very naff alongside the plain silver of the 400.

The brakes were a thoroughly modern set of discs, twins out front and a singular rear. They had both feel and power, even worked okay in the wet. The front brake was a bit vicious on the fork springs and the rear would occasionally lock up the back wheel without any warning. The only real complaint was that with just 6500 miles on the clock, the front pads were jangling around like loose change in a pocket; already worn down to the metal. The heavy madness of the traffic had meant the front brake was used until the discs glowed red in the dark.

The suspension was fine over minor bumps but the heavy stuff caused the Kat to jerk about like a Rap dancer. The remote reservoir twin shocks were mostly neat looking ornaments, when the bike was flung through bumpy bends, their moderate damping went AWOL and the back wheel felt like its bearings were cracking up. It was, ultimately, not as bad as it felt as the steering geometry kept the bike on its line; it was just a question of hanging on and waiting for the shudders to calm down. The limits of the experience became much less when riding with a pillion. Okay for moderate speeding but not much cop far out on the periphery of the handling.

After about two weeks of hustling I was used to the handling but becoming bored with the performance. That's the Japanese way with motorcycles, they're produced as throwaway consumables that after the newness wears off a little need to be replaced with the latest toy in town. Quite how that works out with the retro breed, which by their very nature aren't supposed to look like the latest toy in town, will bear some thought. Riders will probably become so pissed that they'll start buying modern motorcycles again.

I dare say a decent pair of shocks and a proper set of tyres would sort out most of the Suzuki's handling foibles, though parts of the frame would remain a bit suspect. Either changing the bars or pegs would drastically improve the riding position and long distance comfort. The engine is hardly hard charging and there's no easy way of getting more power out of it, though replacing the quiet exhaust might let loose a few more horses and even give the engine a bit of a power band. I guess it all depends on how enamoured you are with the styling. I'd go for one of old 1100 Kats, which for the same kind of money as a grey import GSX400S in the UK would provide lots more fun and games.

Mike Prescotte

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The need for a new bike came to mind after thrashing an XT600E from Maidstone to Oxford in record time. 90mph most of the way, save for the chronic roadworks on the M25. The XT was brilliant for speeding through traffic but the upright riding position meant I was blown about halfway to death. I was skint when I went looking but turned up a nice low mileage import Z550Ltd which was worth about £400 less than the XT.

Three weeks later the dealer still hadn't registered the Kawasaki - as the XT was clocking up around 1500 miles a week I had to do something before its value dropped too low for me to do a straight swap. So, off to a bike shop in darkest Kent which was full of clean, shining used bikes. Being rather short of leg a lot of the bigger machinery was just too much to sling through traffic on city runs and the greed of the insurance companies put paid to anything bigger than a 600.

The only bike that fell into the value range I could manage at the time was a 1986 Suzuki GSX400F. After a decent test ride a deal was struck. The bike had a Krauser top box and pannier rack, the dealer explaining that the previous owner was a friend who was going to drop the panniers in during the week and I could collect them next weekend. Off I rode into the November night on my new work-tool, looking forward to a nice long distance blast up the motorway on Monday.

Picture the scene. Monday morning, cold air and a despatch rider, in numerous layers of clothing topped off with Rukka's, pushing the start button and hearing the starter catch, turn the engine and grind to a complete halt. Now picture the same courier ten minutes later, looking totally shagged out and muttering curses at the world.

The engine finally fired up after being jumped from a car battery and I set off for work. The first week went perfectly, all seemed well until it lost interest in starting again. Once warm, however, it was easy enough to bump. After discovering that the dealer's guarantee covered only labour, I bought and fitted a new battery myself.

Every cable on the bike decided to snap at the same time and the live supply wire to the ignition switch rotted, killing the bike altogether, suggesting it'd spent a long time under a sheet in someone's garden. The Krausers, by the way, were nowhere to be seen.

The choice of tyres fitted by the previous owner suggested a certain lack of concern for personal safety. The rear was an Avon R2 Roadrunner of indeterminate age and the front a King's tyre all the way from Taiwan. The name suggested to me that if Taiwan had a King then a group of anarchists had designed the tyre in the hope of shortening his life expectancy. Not so much of a problem, as I was able to alter my riding technique to suit.

Another feature of the bike didn't help, though, unless the roads were bone dry. The Suzuki was fitted with hydraulic anti-dive which when the front twin discs were applied closed a valve that then restricted the flow of damping oil through the left fork leg. In theory a great idea.....had not the previous owner filled the forks with something a bloody sight thicker than the recommended SAE 15 grade oil.

The front brake's master cylinder was so efficient that the lever only came back half an inch before going solid, hauling the bike up very, very quickly. The overall effect was that the front end lacked any feedback while the braking led to more than one trouser browning moment, not helped any by the dubious front rubber.

The problem disappeared when I stripped the forks, after draining off what looked more like sludge than oil, washed all the parts in paraffin, reassembled them with SAE15 and fitted a master cylinder off a Z400F which I just happened to be breaking at the time. Gone was the on/off action but the brake was still plenty powerful enough.

A few days went by during which all was well with the world. The GSX being quick enough for motorway work, yet narrow and light enough to throw around in Shit City traffic. Then disaster. On a late night run to Eastbourne, wait and return, the lights started playing up. Headlight flashing in time with the indicators, and the starter was useless. It would only start with a very long, fast push and would then die if the lights were turned on with the engine running below 7000 revs.

It did get me back to Maidstone and then home but it was a bloody struggle. Once there the Suzuki syndrome was diagnosed, the Z400's regulator pack was bodged on in place of the pitiful thing Suzuki specified. Next day, a new battery was fitted and I consoled myself with the thought that the alternator was still intact. I'm amazed that Suzuki can get away with fitting such electrics but it's not as bad as Honda's camchains or Yamaha's calipers.

Back to work until one day there's a clacking noise from the transmission under power. Oops! The rear sprocket was a circle with bumps where the teeth had been - and I've got a multi-drop to Basildon, Chelmsford and Colchester on board. Much clutch slipping later I finished the job and talked the boss into subbing me £60 for a heavy-duty chain and sprocket set.

A week later I fitted a new Roadrunner only to have the Motad Neta split. The local car repair shop welded the split and reinforced the pipe where it met the downpipes. Where the headers met the silencer it was pretty thin. All for a fiver. One of the header bolts sheared where it goes into the barrel and when I fitted a set of crash-bars the only way I removed the front engine mounting bolt was after emptying a can of WD40 and using excessive leverage.

A week later the battery boiled dry again despite the regulator checking out okay. I fitted a slightly taller battery out of a CX after modifying the bracket. New regulator and all the earth connections on the bike cleaned up. Still no Krausers despite several calls. Another snapped speedo drive cable later, the handling started to seriously deteriorate, the front end sliding away on corners.

The first time it happened I was on a roundabout just outside Maidstone heading for Uxbridge when the front end disappeared and both rider and bike went skating across the road horizontally. I got up, looked for the diesel on the road but couldn't find any and couldn't see anything obvious wrong with the tyre. After about the 30th slide I found, under close examination, that the front tyre had worn unevenly, putting only half the rubber on the road when I was banked over.

On went a Metzeler Laser, which turned the handling quick, precise and very confidence inspiring. Then, yes, there's more, the weather turned from cold winter to wet winter and spring - the shit really hit the fan! On any journey over 30 miles the engine would go on to two cylinders until the rain stopped and ten minutes later the engine returned to a four. Not too bad in showers but prolonged rain would be hell, running on two cylinders.

God knows what the two cylinders were wearing like with all that neat petrol washing off the oil on the walls. The last owner had stuck silicone gasket around the coils where the HT leads exited so I added some around the plug caps for good luck. It didn't help and within days the profits of the company making WD40 trebled.

One night, on the way home on the unlit M20, the bike died and the WD ran out. I took the tank off on the hard shoulder and dried the coils with a bit of rag from the tool kit. Cranking the engine over revealed an exciting light show. Sparks were flowing all over the coils and leads, jumping to the frame. Out came the AA card, we completed the trip in a big warm yellow van.

A used set of CBR600 coils match the GSX's engine and even allow new HT leads to be fitted. The first rain and it was back to two cylinders at Leamington Spa then no cylinders at Reading. WD40 didn't help. AA again then a set of Halford's silicone plug leads with moulded on plug caps. Then on the way back from Banbury, one day, it died again. AA yet again, but on the way home I decided I couldn't go on like this - spending more time on the hard shoulder than working. I quit before I was sacked. The next step was to waterproof every connector on the bike. Even this didn't cure it, the final straw when one coil short-circuited and took out the ignition unit.

The GSX has a wonderful engine that required nothing more than 1500 mile oil changes and valve checks. It's pretty quick but the electrics are shit. Finish goes off in winter, handling's average, comfort's good if you're short. I'm thinking of breaking the bike as there's no easy way to fix it.

JPB

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There are a lot of rumours and stories about the engine in the GSX400F. Suzuki, famed for its 550 to 1000cc GS range, had failed to imbue their reputation for reliability into their smallest four. Which was rather odd, though its 16 valve head might've been viewed as suspicious in 1981. But it wasn't the top end that caused the hassles but the crankshaft. This from a sump that lacked sufficient capacity - might the heat dissipation of the 16 valve head have destroyed the oil with unexpected speed? Anyway, Suzuki added a bigger sump pan and then all was well. Or was it?

I was pondering this when looking at a dealer housed example. 1983, 29000 miles, nice paint and slightly dodgy chrome and alloy. I explained my doubts to the salesman who quickly hid an annoyed scowl (probably cursing the information in the UMG, which I was clutching prominently in one hand) in favour of some reassuring patter. It basically boiled down to a three month guarantee or an extra £100 for a year's warranty. Of course, if I wanted to pay cash and take my chances by buying sold as seen, a large discount was possible.

He started up the engine and it sounded good. I sat on the bike and it felt, er, good. The salesman smiled encouragingly, as if at a child trying to walk for the first time. A quarter hour's blast later, I felt good about the way the motor would scream into the red and how easy the 400lb machine was to chuck through the curves. I definitely wanted the bike but I pretended to be indifferent. I started to walk away, moaning that I couldn't afford that kind of money. The end result was a price of £775 instead of the quoted £1250 (this in 1992); sold as seen. Dealer margins are often ridiculous.

There followed a bit of a learning process. I learnt that the engine could be thrashed into the red in most gears. 110mph! I learnt that I shouldn't go into corners on the brakes. The suspension just couldn't take it, the OE rear shocks being noteworthy for their weakness. I also learnt that the twin front discs could howl the tyre and put the forks down on their stops...and if I tried this in the wet I fell off.

Momentarily, after the violence and viciousness of the skid, I was relieved to be able to pick myself up and find that I was still in one piece. My first clue to the extent of the damage was the large pool of oil under the bike. At first I thought it'd merely ripped off the alternator, an infamously poor piece of equipment. The damage ran a lot deeper than that, to, I later found, a bent crankshaft. I learnt from this that the definition of a fool is someone who rides a GSX400F without engine bars.

To make the embarrassment all the greater, the salesman turned up in an ultra-flash Range Rover and chuckled at my predicament before driving off. Bastard! I pushed the bike the half mile home. A week later some so-called friend tried to sell me a GN400 motor that he reckoned would fit straight in. To avoid this catastrophic event I quickly found a crashed bike with an intact, running engine for £400. The forks, tank, wheels and exhaust were ruined but there was lots of stuff that could be salvaged, including a complete electrical system. The engine went in without too much pain, a couple of mates helping with the lifting.

The new mill didn't have the power of the old one, perhaps because the clock read 43000 miles. More than 95mph equated to an awful lot of secondary vibes. A full service was obviously needed. Both the valves and carbs were miles out. That done, performance and smoothness were improved, yet not equal to the original engine.

Incidentally, I decided that the slide was partially down to the old Japlop tyres having gone as hard as plastic, not that they were endowed with excessive grip from new. A new set of Metz's were fitted before the next downpour. The bike didn't like rain. This time I didn't fall off. The engine went down to two or three cylinders. The power suddenly exploding, making the back tyre waggle all over the shop. I was frightened to the point where I was thinking of getting off and pushing the bike home.

A couple of weeks later starting became very erratic. The spark was a weak yellow at the plugs; a used set of coils revived the ignition. Happily, the cutting out in the wet was also eradicated. I used coils off a GSX750 but had no problems with them. There are dire warnings about mixing and matching electrical components but stock stuff tends to be so weak that I always work on the basis that it can't get any worse.

By then I wasn't too impressed by the GSX - too much hassle for too few kicks. For the next three months and 4000 miles, though, it ran really well. Not a moment's trouble. I did find that the front light was a bit lacking in intensity for night riding and that the seat was too hard for more than half an hour's commuting. Handling was fine, acceleration adequate, running costs low and the amount of effort needed to ride it was minimal. I was soon singing its praises to my mates.

Then all the consumables ran out at the same time. Tyres, chain, pads and exhaust (they rust so quickly they have to be considered as a consumable). The total cost was ridiculous so it was around the breakers, picking up bits here and there. One thing, don't bother trying to fit modern tyres - impossible. Pay a fiver to the experts and save yourself a lot of blood, sweat and tears.

A summer's blitz up one side and down the other of the UK went without any serious incidents, although one of my friends fell off his GS550 and another blew up his Z650. In this company the GSX wasn't really out of its depth. They were a bit faster on motorways but tended not to trash their engines into the red, unlike myself. The GSX could be slung around with much greater ease, causing the bigger fours to try to run off the road when they tried to emulate my line. Mainly, because they were close to a 100lbs heavier.

By the time we got home the cosmetics had deteriorated - I blame all that bloody Scottish rain. Wheels, front guard, exhaust and engine alloy were all far gone. Much effort was expended cleaning them up. I shouldn't have bothered, after the first storm they were just as bad as before. Bloody old Jap's are all the same as regards crap finish. I thought it was time to sell whilst I still had something left to sell.

A few adverts were placed but only a few jokers phoning up with silly offers of around £500. For that kind of money all I could buy in good nick was an MZ. No thanks. Autumn, winter and spring. The bike running as well as ever but the cosmetics deteriorating fast. Rat bike status was soon attained. I dressed in gunge style and wore shades as a disguise.

As soon as the sun started to shine brightly the bottom end began to knock. If ever a motorcycle came close to rap this was it. Its tune was one of imminent demise and I began to wish I'd taken those £500 offers seriously. I should've taken it right down and rebuilt the whole thing from the ground up. It wasn't the kind of machine to inspire that sort of affection. Instead, I carried on riding, using a mild hand on the throttle. The bike lasted for 900 miles before it seized up solid.

Seized up just as I was scurrying across a major junction. You wouldn't believe the ensuing chaos. Three cars ended up embedded in each other and the cagers went into screaming fits. I was sorely tempted to do a runner, just leave the old heap there as a monument to crap Japanese engineering and my own neglect. In the end, I waited for the cops and usual verbal battering.

In conclusion, the GSX400F's a pretty good bike to ride but it's hard to find one in nice mechanical condition. Even one that's shined up may quickly turn into a rust bucket; even one that seems to run fine may soon end up going knock-knock. On examination, half the sixteen valves were in a sad state, all four pistons and bores were wrecked and the crankshaft was in a bad way. All was not lost, I cleaned up the chassis and fitted the GN400 engine (no-one else would buy it, so only £75). Better than an MZ!

Dave Lynch

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My GS550 was stolen by some rotter who should be boiled in oil, and I had to find a replacement quick. The local paper fell through the door just as I was getting desperate. A GSX400F for £600. Had a quick glance at the Used Guide - not too encouraging, probably up for sale because the crank was on the way out. Still, I had nothing to lose except my time, of which I had plenty to spare.

Turned out to look not half bad. Bugger me, if the little four didn't shoot up the road faster than the old GS550. Yes, it had the bigger sump fitted and, no, the owner had never had any mechanical problems in two years and 9000 miles. The clock read 33000 miles. The low price was down to the need for new consumables and an imminent MOT. No offers.

I paid a deposit, sorted the insurance and rushed back there the next day. Only to be informed that I was lucky I'd turned up early as someone else had offered £850 and was threatening to come back with the money that afternoon. I almost asked for his phone number, so I could sell on at a profit.

The MOT proved a big hurdle, even after fitting new consumables, as the fork seals, swinging arm bearings and exhaust were all too shot to pass. The swinging arm spindle ended up bent after I'd removed it. No grease, corroded in. It was then that I found chassis bits for GSX400F's are rare in breakers. A new spindle was unthinkable. I finally found a breaker with a box of old spindles with one that was a little longer but the same diameter, for a fiver. The exhaust was welded and a used front end fitted after I found a couple of tiny cracks in the front hub! MOT granted.

The electrics were completely nonstandard and the wiring bodged, but it all seemed to work okay so I wasn't going to rip it apart and start again. This didn't stop me getting annoyed with the front headlamp, only useful for moped speeds. I thought I'd fit a seven inch shell and reflector I had in the garage, a nice 80 watt job. None of the connectors matched and the new shell didn't really have room for all of the old wiring but I managed to slap it all together.

Two problems resulted. Firstly, some of the connectors kept popping out, either fusing the whole system or causing various things not to work. Sorted with the soldering gun and roll of insulation tape. Secondly, the power of the headlamp overtaxed the generator output. The battery slowly ran down during night riding until the lamp flickered and the engine stuttered. I had to change the reflector for a less powerful one, still an improvement on the stocker but dangerous above 30mph on unlit country roads.

Compared to the 550, the smaller four was surprisingly snappy. Thanks to its much lower mass (around 400lbs), it accelerated vehemently and could be thrown around town traffic like a 250. My commuting times, over a ten mile run, improved by about five minutes. Fuel was better at 65mpg compared to 55mpg.

My only worry, keeping an eye on the oil level which could disappear with worrying rapidity. A daily top up needed! I talked to another GSX400F owner who reckoned the heavy oil consumption was perfectly normal and that it was best to change it every 500-600 miles. He used a very expensive synthetic lube, but in the end I decided that it wasn't worth it - I topped it up with recycled 20/50 from the local auto-shop and reckoned every other week it had been completely replenished. I did the oil and filter every 3000 miles.

I took one look at the sixteen valves, decided it was all too complex for me. Leave well alone as long as it was running okay. The same went for the carbs. The ignition was electronic and the camchain tensioner automatic.

By far my biggest maintenance chores were the chain and front discs (not stock GSX400F's). The latter had a seizure every time wet weather was encountered. I sprayed the calipers with WD40 (probably not recommended but it worked!) which reduced strip-downs to about once a month...at least the calipers came apart easily.

As to the chain, it was a combination of a tiny engine sprocket and a swinging arm mount placed without much thought for the chain's movement. Or maybe it was just the ancient bit of chain and shagged sprockets. Or the way every time I did up the wheel spindle the back wheel moved out of line! Or a combination of all these.

Chain maintenance was a daily affair, and every month I had to take a link out (about 1000 miles per month). Whatever chain spray I used the result was identical, a back end (and if present, pillion) covered in lube and a rusty old chain! After about four months I did actually fit a new chain but it started going the same way within weeks.

It was just one of those things you learn to live with. To its credit, the relatively mild and smooth flow of power meant the chain never actually snapped. With old bikes like this you have to grab the good points with both hands! Although there were some undeniable hassles in riding the bike all year round, it was never less than fun from the saddle.

More than anything else, the bike fitted my small frame perfectly and the seat was exemplary in the support and comfort it offered as my body was perched nicely by the moderate riding position. I could happily sit on the bike all day long at 90mph. A speed at which the mill became miraculously smooth and could scoot along without any effort on the throttle or gearbox.

Whilst that made the bike capable on the motorway, there wasn't much more easy power in hand, needed some fast footwork on the gearbox and throttle to get her past the ton. Ridden thus, 120mph wasn't beyond the realms of possibility, though usually it ran out of puff at 110mph. However, once above 90mph fuel dived to a traumatic 35mpg (from 50mpg at 90mph) and oil consumption was at mythical levels. Short bursts of speed only, then!

Much to my delight, and not a little amazement given the reputation of this engine, the bike ran for 14 months and nearly 15000 miles before anything serious went wrong. It would doubtless have done more if I'd attended to the top end. Coming back from a nice weekend at the BMF rally, after really caning the bike to see off a couple of middleweights, loads of grey smoke started pouring out of the exhaust. I pulled over, some nasty tapping coming from the cylinder head. I thought, sod it, ride home, see if it will get me there.

Twenty miles later, as I proudly pulled up at my house, I looked down to see that the engine had blown all its gaskets - smoke and oil pouring out of it. I'd wondered why top speed was down to 45mph - it'd only been running on two cylinders. All the heat coming off the alloy was like a blast-furnace going out of control. I wondered if the tapping or knocking noises were the louder!

The next morning I checked it over. All the oil was gone and the engine actually looked warped! Out of interest I took it apart. Maybe, just maybe, most of the gearbox was okay but the rest of it wouldn't even be accepted by a scrappy. I hadn't destroyed my engine so I could write an interesting story for the UMG, it was just that I'd let the bike fall into total neglect and couldn't be bothered any more. Despite its excellent performance a shadow always hung over the bike; its reputation overwhelming the reality of its riding.

I reckon I'd even had pretty good value out of it. Also, my insurance had finally coughed up a grand for the GS550, after months of argument, and I'd bought a much modded GS750. According to the owner, this just needed a little finishing, but it took me a good two months to get all the missing bits together. Much lighter than stock, with later suspension and a mildly tuned motor, this turned out to be the business, coming on stream just after the 400 went down. Good timing for once.

The GSX spent about four months in the garage until I talked a neighbour into giving me £250 for it. He then spent a month combining three broken engines to make one good one. Total cost £400, so not bad value. Only thing was, all the different parts, which had worn at different rates, didn't fit at all well together. A mere 95mph top speed, loads of secondary vibes plus wicked oil and fuel consumption. None of that stopped him riding around for five months and then selling on at £650!

It's this kind of madness you have to look out for if you're in the market for a 400. They ain't like other Suzuki fours, they have usually been rebuilt a couple of times and just don't have the basic toughness of the larger fours. Good ones do run rather well, as good as the 550 - better, if you use them mostly in town. Given this, they are worth buying for £400 to £750 but any more than that's asking to be ripped off. I even saw one in a dealers for £150O. That's just silly.

Mark Jones