Kawasaki GPz305

The GPz305 was bought from a backstreet deaker (first mistake). He was very easy to knock down on the price and accepted my offer of £700 instead of £900 straight away (second mistake). I had a test ride and returned to him and he said no warranty (third mistake).

The bike was newer, smoother and quicker than my CJ250 Honda, so I rode off into the dust feeling rather happy with myself. The CJ had the Honda illness of camchain demise and had just rejected a transplant.

The Kawasaki went well for about two weeks then I noticed that all the oil had disappeared. Then the rings went with lots of smoke. I noticed that the camshaft was slightly worn but left it alone after replacing the rings. The bike was still consuming more oil than anything else.

On one motorway trip it started to backfire and wouldn't start after I left it to cool for an hour. I bumped it down a hill and the motor exploded into life with a terrible noise. It was rough, slow and would only go up to third, and later second gear. I was well pissed off by the time I had coaxed the machine home.

When I took the head off most of the metal bits, including the camchain, had turned blue. The cam lobes were a work of mechanical wreakage, teardrop shaped with large gouges in them. Part of the camchain links had tore apart and stuck out like a chainsaw blade, having cut the barrel, guides and cover into interesting pieces of near scrap metal. I replaced the parts with slightly worn bits from a breaker (thirty instead of three hundred quid quoted by the dealer) but they still rattled away furiously and consumed oil crazily.

The cams were worn again by the time an oil change came around, the gudgeon pins had lost 3mm in diameter and I had another chainsaw blade whizzing around in the engine looking for more carnage. More parts were replaced. A local bike shop told me to ensure oil could get into the top half of the engine easily. This I did, but the thing was rattling again within a week. I told myself to lose the bike and claim on the insurance. I put it in the back of our shed and spent my last pennies on getting the CJ back into service.

Time passed, I had an £800 overdraft and I needed a better bike. A friend was boasting pabout his brand new bike, a GSXR750, so I went for a ride on the back and was suitably impressed. Over a beer, he told me that a mate had a GPz305 for sale that only needed a little work....an '84 job with only 4500 miles on the clock with a bent front wheel.

It handled really bad, imagine riding with no spacers on the front spindle, a bald, flat tyre and holding a Kango hammer in your mouth. But the motor purred and it was only £350.

Even after replacing the front wheel it didn't handle perfectly. The bike felt very safe and nimble up to about 80mph but then it would wobble and weave up to 90mph. It was bad enough to make you slow down and never do it again. I am not a very confident person and going fast gets me thinking about deer jumping from behind trees and snapping belt drives.

The tyres were half worn Roadrunners, very good in a straight line and lasted for 4000 miles. The corners were a different ballgame, though. Over 60mph on those A roads with long sweeping bends caused the bike to wallow all over the place. Hit a drain cover or a tar strip and it would weave and wobble enough to make you start praying. Two up you had the genuine brown trouser effect.

The engine got oil and filter changes between 1500 and 2000 miles, and never complained. I did the valve clearances once. Two up, it would cruise at seventy. Mostly, it was ridden on B type roads as the ride was nicer than the main routes, but care was needed on tight bends because of the handling. I never liked the belt drive but, saying that, it was very good, only needing minimal adjustment at each service.

It was the front sprocket that caused the problems. Typically we were late, rushing from London to get to work by six. The suburbs were clear and good time was being made in the fresh spring morning air. Pulling away from some traffic lights there was a crunch of metal and then the engine screamed. I changed up and down the box to no effect.

Stopping found the rear belt loose. The cheap Jap screws holding the side casing rounded off as soon as they saw a screwdriver but we got it off in the end. The sprocket was there but the nut was not, the retaining washer had rounded off in the centre allowing the nut to spin.

A new one was done up as tight as possible with a copious quantity of Loctite. 200 miles later the same thing happened again only this time everything locked up. Brilliant fun! The belt survived but the side casing was broken.

I became very confident on the bike and was soon throwing the thing around bends and thrashing the little engine everywhere. This was mostly two up and 50 miles at a time. Servicing came and went every three weeks and I spent that bit extra on good quality filters and oil. The reward was a reliable motor. However, the tyres were wearing out again, the pads were down to the rivets and the cam had just started tapping a tad - I started looking for a bigger bike.

One thing I would certainly miss - the 305 is so narrow that I could infuriate car drivers by weaving through the tiniest gap in traffic jams - they open doors and chuck things through the window at you but the little GPz pulls through.The overall finish is good, the frame had lost a lot of paint in the crash but the rust didn't get worse. The tank and sidepanels still shone although the alloy wheels didn't.

Keeping up with my own bad luck I dropped it. Not heavily and it could have been a lot worse. The road must have been built by a man with a 305, it was perfect. A straight then a sharp, twisty section with wire fences instead of kerbs. A sharp S bend with a humped railway bridge in the middle. Into a right then a 100 yard forest straight, 50 yard hairpin then slowing into a another right. A tractor must have come out of the forest and covered the road with leaves. Quick as a flash, the bike was gone, spinning up the road. I was sliding in the mud then into a ditch. I was fine, the bike had only broken an indicator. I got on my way before anyone saw me.

The sprocket came off again soon after. A roundabout near Ewell in Surrey. Fortunately I was going slowly. All that was needed was a well placed boot on the tarmac. It was the walk that pissed me off. That was it, the GPz and I had fallen out seriously.

I found a GT550 in a dealers. The mechanic tore into the 305, ending up by breaking off the sidestand. The list included bald tyres, worn brake pads and shoes, loose steering, rotted baffles, tatty tank and seat, leaking head gasket and an optimistic mileage (19000). He made it sound like a death trap not worth a sod but he allowed me £800 against the GT's £1800.

Summing up, for this particular GPz305 I can't say too much in complaint. They are good transport solo, cheap to insure, good on tyres and brake pads, reasonably good on handling and fairly nippy. They don't drink much petrol either. The major problem areas are the two up handling and long distance work. I personally wouldn't go looking for another but someone who has just got Part Two should take a look. Glad I had mine, even happier that I sold it at a good profit!

Brendan Fell

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My mates told me I was a mad moron to buy a three year old GPz305 at top price. They had a bit of a rep for falling apart once past 25,000 miles, something my still shiny machine was a mere 400 miles off achieving. But the brief test ride had revealed a light machine that shot up to 90mph as I played silly buggers on the six speed gearbox and the throttle. The engine was a lot quieter and smoother than the rattly AR125 I'd just flogged off, so I couldn't resist the deal.

The first week of commuting, evening scratching and weekend hooliganism was all it took to break through the 25000 mile barrier. I was enjoying myself so much I could hardly bear to get off the machine at the end of a day's riding. The joys of a new motorcycle and all that. My only complaints during that first week were that the riding position was too cramped to be comfortable for more than 75 miles in a sitting and that the headlamp led to severe eye strain on unlit country lanes at night.

It wasn't until it rained that I became really uncomfortable. The tyres, Avons with about 2mm of tread, liked to wander all over the wet tarmac and the front brake became all grabby, which sent the tyre into some wild slides. Only the light mass allowed me to survive. The suspension was stiffened up from stock, giving a nice taut feel with lots of feedback from the road, which also helped with the ease of control. Mass is only 330lbs, the GPz feeling even lighter on the road.

I splashed out on a set of Metz's and attacked the calipers with blowtorch and large hammer. The resulting pile of alloy scrap was useful for throwing at next door's dog but not much else. A new set of calipers off a one year old crashed GPz went straight on, had lots of meat on the pads. When everything was reassembled the road holding felt way better but the brake was as mushy as a school dinner.

The rubber hose was dribbling like a drunk seventy year old, the rubber must've gone hard and cracked up when I left the calipers hanging off it. Goodridge hose cost a bundle but I assured myself that it had maximum pose value. That got the brakes working but they were still a bit nasty in the wet, dead easy to lock up the front wheel with hardly any effort.

In the dry I used to impress the city centre louts no end, howling the tyre to a dead stop with the back wheel a few feet in the air, which belied the rather sedate lines and boring paint job. With only 35 horses on hand, doing wild wheelies required 10,000 revs, dropping the clutch dead and jerking viciously on the bars. The clutch made such disgusting noises that I soon stopped this practice.

The reluctance towards doing wheelies was probably down to the neutral weight distribution, which made riding the Kawasaki as natural as leaping up and down on the girlfriend. She was, by the way, quite impressed with the pillion accommodation, but then her earlier experiences had been on the minimally padded AR whose tingles did absolutely nothing for her. My perch was a couple of inches lower but she was a lot smaller that me, so wasn't affected by wind buffeting.

I thought that the belt drive was rather neat, making the OHC vertical twin seem smoother than it really was and undoubtedly helping the gearchange action, which was still precise. I was less impressed when the damn thing broke at 26,200 miles. At least the belt material refrained from wrecking the alloy engine. After a muscle building push I found out, whilst poking around at the back end, that the swinging arm and Uni-trak bushes had developed a bit of slop.

Big hammer time. My mates found the expense of the renovation hilarious, over a 150 smackers. As well as a new belt and bushes, the spindles were well pitted, due to an absence of grease that would get a health freak high. The swinging arm needed some cleaning and painting whilst the drum's lining's looked on their way out (I made a note never to use the back brake other than in dire emergencies).

The thing was, after a week off the road I was suffering terrible withdrawal symptoms. The only way I could get my highway kicks was to go pillion on the back of so-called friends' bikes, an experience I hated almost as much as I loved motorcycling. It was an education in humility, as it made me realise I wasn't really the mad nutter I thought I was - or perhaps they rode like that only with a pillion on board. The only way I survived was by using the dubious logic that they surely didn't really want to kill themselves.

I was really full of myself once the 305 was back on the road. Roared along 200 miles of near deserted country lanes, taking the little beast to 11000rpm, where the engine seemed to stutter and threaten to go dead, but I booted up a gear before it had a chance to develop into anything terminal. There aren't any balancers in the engine, but with the pistons going up and down alternatively I found it acceptably smooth at 40 to 90mph in top gear.

Top speed seemed to be dead on the ton, there's very little that can be done to make it go any faster, not that the wimpy handlebar fairing encourages more than 80mph cruising, something the engine will do for hours on end. Fuel proved surprisingly good, better than the old AR, with about 70mpg possible under quite reasonable speeding. Lurid throttle work would get it down to about 60mpg, but that still gave a range of around 200 miles, which was really more than I'd want to do in one sitting. My mates wouldn't believe I could have so much fun for so little cost!

Anyone who's owned a GPz305 for a while will probably be smirking to himself at this point, full of stories of engine blow-ups. My mates were absolutely convinced that it wouldn't last past 30,000 miles, especially as I was riding it hard to keep up with their much bigger middleweights. I figured that they were just pissed that such an old fashioned motorcycle was able to keep up with them, thanks to too many speed cops and the nimbleness of the chassis on any road with a few curves.

I was heeling the GPz over so far I was taking chunks out of the silencers, the stands having already being cut away. Rust had broken out where the protective black paint was scraped off, quickly spreading the whole length of the silencers. On one corner the scraping sounds gave way to grating, explosive exhaust noise drowning out everything. I'd knocked off a whole silencer. There wasn't enough metal left to try to hammer the silencer back on, so the ride home was ear and window shattering. As well as that I had to contend with screaming kids throwing bricks (I blame TV) and snarling dogs trying to take chunks out of my ankles (I blame their owners).

The other side was about to fall off as well, so I was quite happy to hand the breaker twenty notes for a used 2-1 (Motad, I think). This seemed to add a bit of midrange and allowed all of 105mph on the clock without blowing my eardrums. The only problem I had was with the mounting screws stripping in the engine when I tried to get the old exhaust off. The Helicoil horrors followed.

That was at 31,300 miles. I did a service every 1000 miles, including an oil and filter change. The oil came out black and murky but without any metal fillings. The engine was still quite rattle free at that mileage. My mates sullenly reckoned that it must've been rebuilt just before I'd bought it. The engine failed at 33,500 miles, when the ignition module went dead. I'd assumed it was just the spark plugs, but no hope of such an easy solution. Thirty notes to a breaker 300 miles away secured a working unit and the advice to add enough rubber to keep Malaysian peasants in happy employment.

Then at 35000 miles the belt drive snapped again. The Kawasaki dealer reckoned that 20,000 miles was about right but accused me of misaligning the back wheel when I went back to complain. If I wanted to pay fifty quid extra for his well trained mechanics to fit the next one and bring the bike in for regular check-ups he might consider guaranteeing it for a reasonable mileage. I told him where to get off, bought a replacement from a breaker for £15. Anyone who's ever tried to buy a straight piece of wood will know what a waste of time that is, so I went by the markings on the adjusters.

I was becoming pretty pissed by then as the engine was beginning to make the handlebars vibrate. My mate in the building trade came around and emptied a tube of silicone sealant inside the bars, which helped damp down the vibes above 7000 revs. Sounds weird, but the rubber-like material changed the frequency at which the bars vibrated in sympathy with the engine.

The clever thing to do would have been to sell it then whilst it was still running well, but even if I got a reasonable price I wouldn't have been able to buy anything better. It took until we ran through the 40,000 mile barrier for the rattles to become so loud and the power so poor that I had to pull the motor out. As well as shot camchain, valves, rings and bores, the big-ends were loose enough to slip a nail through. So that was the end of that 1990 engine but the beginning of a new life for the chassis as I'd put in a 2000 mile old 1994 unit. Didn't tell my mates, told them I'd just put in a new tensioner. I'd bet their jaws will sag when I put 60,000 miles on the clock. They can't believe how well she goes now.

So that's life with Kawasaki's GPz305. They're great fun to ride without destroying consumables at a rapid rate. Just capable of touring on the motorway, they are also something of a giant killer on the back roads. A really nice one will cost less than £1500 but something that still runs can be had for less than £500.

Brian Griffiths

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The only way to ride the little Kawasaki fast was with the throttle to the stop. Six speeds, 36 horses and 335lbs made it a nice little hustle when in the mood. It'd run at low revs but below 7000rpm felt more like a commuter than a 305cc OHC twin. The front end was a touch twitchy whilst the rear Uni-track verged on the loose, but I found it an easy bike to control. Well, my previous motorcycle was a crazy Kawasaki H1!

I'd off-loaded that device for an extravagant load of dosh, some of which went on a new GPz305. I was feeling rich and couldn't face running about like a madman trying to find that elusive bargain. Running in for a 1000 miles was incredibly boring after the H1 but at least it stopped the hair loss and shaking hands that had resulted from a year on the stroker triple.

In the end I'd done the London to Edinburgh motorway trawl in the slow lane over a weekend. That sorted out the running in but I'd spent so much time in the saddle that I developed piles - at the tender age of 19! That defines the comfort level of the GPz. Good for the first 75 miles then hell on earth. Why it was quite so bad on the arse I don't know, as the riding position was rather sensible. Waggling around Edinburgh in some discomfort I soon found it best to dump the leather in the hotel. Otherwise, some gay-boys trailed around after me, offering obscene suggestions as to how I was spending my nights. Ugh! It was pretty obvious why Scotland had such a high AIDS infection rate.

Once the running in was complete it was all systems go, or throttle to the stop for the next year and 21000 miles. The mill gave every impression of thriving on such abuse and after I'd changed the tyres for Metzelers stability and handling provoked no cause for complaint.

The finish did, though. Show a GPz305 an English winter and I'll show you a bike that looks ten times its real age. It almost made me cry with despair the way the Kawasaki lost its sheen the first time salted roads were encountered. Jet-washing just added to the carnage, causing paint to flake off the frame. I gave up in the end as it still ran as good as ever. In the spring I had to spend a whole week going over the machine to get it back up to scratch - ie looking like a mere five year old bike. Tarnished wheels and engine alloy proved the most difficult areas.

I consoled myself by caressing my secret weapon. No, not that, my project bike. A turbo-charged Z1 motor in a Rickman frame. Beautiful but proving impossible to get together. That's the problem with experiencing H1 kicks, you're never happy again until you find something even more excessive and just plain dangerous.

By the time 25000 miles were on the GPz305's faded clock, I was really annoyed. Clouds of burnt oil spewing out of the rusted silencers, reminding me of happy days on the H1. I thought I had a pact with the GPz, I would put up with its performance and quick rust nature in return for total reliability and extravagant longevity. I couldn't be bothered pulling the motor apart, brought a 4000 miler from the breaker. That bike looked like it'd slid off the road because of its bald front tyre. The breaker refused to take my engine in part exchange, reckoned there was sod all left that was salvageable but good naturedly accepted it for free when I did the swap in his lane. Probably flog it off as prime meat to some unsuspecting punter.

I thought I'd been ripped off when the bike went up in flames as I was screaming along flat out in third. I had to make a very dangerous move through the traffic to get off the road; had the police been around they would have thrown the book at me! I half-heartedly dabbed at the engine with my leather gloves, but after a minute or so the flames went out. The singed frame and melted sidepanel did not add to its sartorial elegance. A couple of wires were trapped between engine and frame, shorting out.

I felt pretty lucky to have avoided being run down by the traffic or burnt alive, but such euphoria only lasted for about five miles. The shorting out had blown the alternator and rectifier, as well as traumatizing the battery. I only realised this when the motor started to stutter, finally failing about two miles from home. It was a long, long push. The alternative was leaving the bike in the midst of a council estate that was as large as it was notorious.

The breaker was reluctant to let me have my old alternator for free but gave in when I agreed to pay an extortionate amount for a battery and rectifier. My revenge (on the GPz not, alas, the breaker) was 20,000 miles of merciless thrashing and neglect. It was the same story as before with the motor running well until 25000 miles when the exhaust began smoking and the engine rattled.

Only the second time around I'd had to fit nearly new silencers, calipers, petrol tank and seat, as the old ones had all rotted through after about 35000 miles. The wheels looked like they were about to corrode through whilst the Uni-track linkages and bearings were both loose and seized up at the same time. Because of my apprenticeship on the H1, even in such a dilapidated state I couldn't really say that the handling was that bad!

I left the suspension alone until the second engine blew up. This time I ran it right into the ground, the end coming with a massive detonation - my life saved by a quick clutch hand. What was left of the con-rods were poking out of the holes in the crankcases. I've never done that to an engine before and felt a great sense of accomplishment.

The turbo project had been abandoned when I realised it wouldn't work unless I manufactured a new cylinder head. In disgust I'd sold off the bits, leaving a big hole in my heart and my garage. To distract myself I took the GPz down to the frame, having secured a third engine, a GPz550 front end and a nearly new set of Uni-track bearings and spindles, as well as a Hagon shock. I really went to work on the bike, ending up with the smartest 305 in town!

Until the motor started. I'd been done, hadn't I. The breaker assured me it was a 6000 miler but the way it smoked and made a noise like a worn out H1 there was no way it could've done less than 26000 miles. When I pointed this out to the breaker he just laughed at me, went to release his mammoth sized Alsatian. I got out of there fast, figuring I could always firebomb it in the night, with the dog locked inside.

For the next week I went around full of violence and anger, staring down much bigger guys than myself, just willing someone to start a fight. A friend took pity on me by loaning his ZX-10 for a long weekend of highway abuse. After that I was ready for anything, even stripping down a GPz305 motor. The cylinder head was a mess but the rest of the motor was sound. Another breaker was persuaded to swap the head for a good one plus fifty quid. The motor's rather simple to work on but the price of a new gasket set left me gasping for breath.

This motor lasted for all of 14000 miles. As with the other two engines I only changed the oil when the gearbox became impossible. Every 5000 miles, as the belt drive gave the change a very easy time (they lasted 15000 to 18000 miles before turning as elastic as a politician asked to tell the truth). At this point I usually summoned up the energy to fiddle with the carbs but never got around to adjusting the valves! I only did the carbs as neglecting them for too long had a terrible effect on economy, going from 60 to 40mpg!

Given this level of neglect, many will be impressed with their longevity but for the performance I reckon that's the least you can expect; there's little about this bike to inspire much loyalty let alone fanaticism, though this woeful tale will probably have some owners creaming themselves in repressed rage.

As I'd fixed up the chassis very nicely I was almost happy to pop in the fourth engine. This one I heard running first and jolly civilized it sounded, too. It was back to full throttle abuse for next 4000 miles. Ridden like that it would give quite a few bigger bikes the willies and could be heeled over far enough to whip around on their inside. I left one CB750K2 rider running way wide, almost head-butting a bus! I was laughing so loud I didn't clock the gravel on the next bend. Despite the Metzeler's attempts at finding grip it was big slide time. I lost most of my momentum to a bush. The bike ended up mashed beyond recognition. I won't be buying another!

D.W.

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Buying a new bike and reading the UMG? No-one's perfect! I'd read a lot about the little GPz305 and ended up confused. Some were described as brilliant, others suffering terrible engine problems, usually centred around the top end. At the beginning of 1994 I found a dealer willing to sell me a new 'un for £2375 instead of the RRP of £2900. I had hard cash and no trade-in.

The GPz305 is the last serious twin left on the market. If you ignore everything that has a balancer or watercooling only the Kawasaki remains. The engine's been around for yonks, was upgraded from the Z250 when the 125 learner laws made that bike obsolete. A single overhead cam, two valve design, it has pistons rising and falling alternatively in a successful attempt to quell primary vibes. Some rubber engine mounts complete the process.

The evolution of the bike included belt final drive, Uni-trak rear end and many minor mods to shore up the reliability of the camchain and oil circulation to the top end. The engine makes 35 horses and 20lbft of torque and despite its small size is quite typical of the vertical twin breed. Running below 6500rpm is a bit gruff but there's plenty of torque to run along at more than adequate town speeds. Running in didn't prove much of a bore because of the bike's friendly nature at low revs.

I could pop along with a head full of fantasies, the GPz almost finding its own path through traffic. It was as narrow as most big thumpers and a real featherweight (325lbs). Because the engine was so splendid, the 305 was actually easier to ride than my 125, making a mockery of the repressive learner laws. There's a thought, why don't Kawasaki produce a hybrid bike for learners - stick a KH125 motor in the chassis to begin with but sell the bike with a GPz305 mill for when the test's passed. There wouldn't be any trouble selling off the KH motor to the learner market.

With its small, taut chassis I knew the GPz was going to be real fun as soon as I ran it in. I'd deduced from the various tales that the running in was critical and I planned to carefully work the motor up to full power over 1500 miles. The key's not to let the engine labour, such as slowly going up a hill in top gear, but to keep everything free flowing. A lot of bikers don't bother running in, reckoning that modern machinery doesn't need it, but having gone to the trouble of buying a new bike it made good sense to take care at the beginning. After all, I couldn't lose, could I?

I did the running in over a month. I didn't go over 7000rpm until 800 miles. Such was the flow of power that it was difficult to hold the bike back, the needle touching 10,000 revs on occasion. If I had a major hassle then it was with the six speed gearbox, which took a good 3000 miles to run it. Before that happy accumulation of miles, the lever was stiff and there were a couple of false neutrals.

I wasn't sure about the belt drive before buying the bike; was so dubious that I insisted the dealer threw in a spare one! Immediately, the first time I rode the bike, I knew that distrust was misplaced. What an uncanny silence, it's impossible to realise how much noise a chain makes until it's removed. The belt smoothed out the whole transmission, needed hardly any attention and kept the back end clean. It's also lighter than a chain and must be efficient because frugality was excellent.

Once run in, I started to use the bike hard. Jap twins thrive on revs, don't self destruct as long as the oil changes are done regularly. I ignored the wildly optimistic mileages offered by Kawasaki, did the oil changes every 1500 miles and the filter every 6000 miles. On twins like this oil changes are much more important than even regular maintenance, making that critical difference to engine longevity.

Maintenance wasn't too onerous. Do the valves every 5000 miles and the carbs when they went so far out of adjustment that some vibes turned up, usually every 2500 to 3000 miles. Accessibility was good and I never spent more than an hour working on the motor.

The one area that caught me out was the spark plugs. Modern plugs never seem to need changing, so when the engine became difficult to start at 5500 miles I thought there might be serious trouble. It took me a long time to shake off the feeling of paranoia with regards to engine maintenance. However, after talking to a couple of owners it emerged that plugs had to be changed every 5000 to 6000 miles. I always do mine when I do the filter.

The GPz being a plain and simple motorcycle that can be easily maintained it seemed a little odd to me that so few are well looked after. My first winter on the bike revealed one reason why the bikes were not held in great respect. Crap finish! Rust seeped out from underneath the paint on both the frame and tank, as if desperate to get at the cold, moist air. The exhausts were speckled with rust, the wheels going white and most of the fasteners lost their protective coating. Only the black engine finish remained intact. The dealer was across country and unlikely to take kindly to demands for a new frame and cycle parts. I patched it up where I could but was really upset to see my ten month old machine in such a sad state.

I think one reason the GPz makes so little impression on the market, despite the superior performance to the vast majority of flash trail bikes and its giant killer status in the bends, is the use of the old GPz550/1100 colours and general shape of tank, panels and seat. In its day it was quite flash, but in 1995 it's as bland as a Superdream and totally uninspiring.

All the stranger that the last classic twin engine, the evolution of 30 years of Japanese design, isn't housed in some retro clothes (I fancy making it look like a Triumph Daytona) which Kawasaki have shown themselves so good at doing. In March 1995 the status of the GPz was brought home to me by an old biking mate. ''What yer buy that pile of crap for, dopey?'' I sighed, handed over the keys and told him to thrash it around the local lanes. He came back suitably contrite, admitted that it wasn't half bad. Because of its engine history and appearance Kawasaki are losing massive sales.

Such is the fine evolution of what's basically a design that could've been found in the sixties, the combustion chamber worked with an effectiveness rarely found in the motorcycle world. Not only was there a usefully schizoid mix of power and torque, but it was one of the most frugal bikes I've ever come across, giving better economy than the majority of 12hp learners. Not only was I averaging 70mpg it didn't take much effort to better 80mpg.

Only when ridden in the 90 to 105mph range, when the tacho was flirting with the red and when there was enough vibration to froth the fuel in the carbs, did economy plunge to a more typical 45 to 50mpg. Usually, range was better than 200 miles, although the seat began to impinge before that.

I haven't written much about braking or handling because basically there was nothing to worry about. The bike might be occasionally shook around by large bumps or fierce winds but that was purely a result of the light mass that otherwise made it such fun to swing through the bends under power. The twin front discs, backed by a rear drum, would stop the bike on a dime.

Heavy pillions dimmed the acceleration, the Jap tyres were slippery as an eel in the wet and the mirrors were as near useless as you can get without breaking the glass with a hammer. On Metz tyres I feel safe in the wet but would like a decent half fairing for hand and upper body protection - I have dreams about fitting a boxer RS upper fairing!

There's now 21000 miles under its wheels. All I've had to pay out is for fuel, oil and a set of tyres...... plus tubes of Solvol, cans of paint and WD40. The finish is easily the worst aspect of ownership. I'm convinced that given proper care the engine will last for a long time and that new GPz305's don't suffer to the same extent as the old ones.

T.I.G.

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The Yamaha RXS was my pride and joy, my first real motorcycle. Bought in immaculate condition from a dealer for 800 notes, sporting 9000 miles on the clock. At the time I was overjoyed at the little bike's turn of speed, reliability and handling. Indeed, many a time it was possible to touch a toe on the ground while leaning the bike over (so long as the tyre were Michelin) and I thought myself the fastest thing on the road. Could blow off Fiat Pandas and the like. It would even wheelie with tremendous ease in first gear but as the year drew on, test passed, and winter came, the finish started to go off, especially around the swinging arm and the electrics were starting to play up (mostly due to poor earthing).

And, I found out I wasn't the fastest lad in town, brought about by cars speeding up as I tried to overtake them, forcing me to either back-off or have a head-on with some artic. The time had come to get shot of the RXS. Oh, it's a lovely little bike, they would say...you have too much money, that's your trouble, but my mind was made up- it had to go.

The local dealer was visited and I told them what I wanted- something that looks cool, in good fettle, low mileage, black and fast. He produced a GPz305 with 8000 miles on the clock, full fairing (which touched the floor when I sat upon the bike), leaking forks, dead battery, scratched petrol tank, for a grand price of £1950.

I told him to stick it up his brown tea-towel holder and promptly left the shop. Next dealer was blessed with my presence and he, amazingly, showed me another GPz305, in absolutely stunning condition with 2200 miles on the clock, for £2195...a bit of haggling meant £1000 part-ex for a G reg Yam, one years parts and labour warranty, six months tax and discounted future buys. We shook hands and I left aboard the Kawasaki with an enormous smile.

I flew down the motorway as soon as I left the shop. 70 then 90mph came up with total ease, then up to the ton. It blew my head off at such sheer speed. I never imagined being powered forwards at such velocities. First impressions were amazing!

The twin front discs were very powerful, needing only a touch on the lever to bring the bike to a halt. Much better than the fade prone drum brakes of the RXS, although I soon fitted Goodridge hose which made them even better. Oil changes were done every 1000 miles (as we all know what happens to this bike's engine when neglected. Carbs and valves needed adjusting at the same interval, due to my throttle to the stop riding technique. Fuel went in 170 miles and so was my brown starfish (arse) as the seat turns hard after 70 miles.

This bike would not wheelie easily despite its low mass and fairly high power, about six inches off the ground was all I could achieve. It made up for this in the handling, it can be pulled over until the exhaust touches the ground, which took all the black chrome off. Yes, I was completely happy with the bike, everything I wanted it to do, it did, including scare old folks at the bus stop when revved to its 12000rpm red line.

One morning I awoke, took a deep breath and thought I wonder how fast it actually is? Phoned my mate (with his cage) and we went speed testing down the back roads. To be quite frank, the Kawasaki couldn't be touched by his car. It just drove backwards in the mirrors, my face all lit up with joy. Let's see exactly what it will do...1st gear, up to 20mph, 2nd up to 40mph, 3rd, 4th, 5th up to the red line then 6th- 90mph, then 100mph, slowly up to 107mph then finally topping out at 111mph, with me clinging on for my life with a cast iron grip on the bars and nose in the clocks. The GPz was exceedingly quick, for me. No-one ever believed me that a 305cc twin would do 111mph but I swear it did- optimistic clock, perhaps? The quarter fairing was effective so long as my chin was on the petrol tank. I loved every moment of it.

The bike was then used for the daily commute to work. Starting was good except when the choke was pulled fully on the revs would fly straight up to 5000rpm until the engine was warmed; the neighbours hammering at their windows. Also, the clutch used to stick, so when first gear was engaged the bike would leap forwards and stall, but soon fired up on the starter.

September soon arrived with me looking forward to MAG's Witton Castle (storm in the castle) biker bash. The beer was bought, tent packed and we set off. I got there in good time and met up with a mate who agreed to set my tent up if I would go for some more beer.

Pulled a massive wheelspin over the grass whilst attempting to show off. To the off-licences and back with the beer...a journey of woe. I rode through a few towns then joined the A68 at the motorway when I met up with about five other bikers who were also going to Witton. I overtook some of them, into second place, the bloke in front following a car...

We went up to the top of a hill, slowed for the corner then accelerated down the other side- I glanced at my speeded, looked back up again and the car in front was braking hard to turn off. The bike in front braked, I braked and somehow lost the front wheel- I don't know if it just slid away or if I flipped the back of the bike over the front...all I remember was a slide show of pulling the brake then hands touching the floor and opening my eyes at the side of the road.

The Kawasaki went on for about ten to twenty yards without me, before coming to a rest. Fortunately, without hitting the biker or car in front. All the bikers stopped to help me up (and the car drove on) and they pulled the bike to the side of the road. Even though I was wearing a leather coat, the sleeve had rolled up my arm as I hit the ground and my jeans had ripped exposing flesh to the road surface, which took layers of skin off.

First thoughts were of pure anger. I had to try hard not to twat anyone in the mouth. Then came the feeling of sadness at the state of my machine. Five minutes earlier it didn't even have a mark on it - immaculate then almost a write-off. We across to a nearby house and called my father who came to pick the bike up with a trailer. On of the bikers wanted me to phone for an ambulance but as it costs £40 in a road accident, I made my own way there hitching a lift off my father.

In the hospital I was bandaged up (after waiting for about two hours) and then the nurse asked me to drop my jeans. I thought I was in for a surprise but much to my disappointment she injected my butt with a tetanus booster. Ugh, you bugger.

Back home, the whole family came out to look at the state of the bike. Indicators, fairing, plastic panel, gear lever, etc., all broken. The Uni-trak bushes and linkage were all crushed and bent, so was the rear mudguard. Next day was spent limping around to the breakers, picking up various bits and pieces, and I made new bushes for the suspension at work (I'm a toolmaker) as well as hammering the linkages straight and twisting the gear pedal back around again. As the fairing cost £200 new and £80 pattern, I didn't bother replacing it.

I have no idea how fast I was going when I fell off the bike but two hundred notes was spent replacing the broken pieces, and arms and legs still haven't healed three months on. I continued using the bike for work but the pleasure of riding it had gone- so it had to go! A nice little car was bought to take its place (which put a smile on the parent's face), but I can't shake off the pull to go out and get another motorbike, which is what I'm doing now- just looking around the papers for that bike that catches my eye - something like a chopper or hardtail would do me nicely...

J.T.