Kawasaki Z1000

It could be so wonderful. Life with the Z1000, that is. Wonderful in the sense that I could leap aboard and head for the open road without any worries whatsoever. Just knew its meaty, outrageously tough, four cylinder motor was going to hold together, come what may. Not that I could go totally wild on the throttle. Not with 600lbs of ill-framed metal to fight against. Even on non-standard, much improved, suspension... there was still a weak headstock and peculiar steering geometry to contend with. Not that it was totally suicidal, a brief dalliance might even persuade that it was pretty damn good for such a hefty old bruiser - muscle needed, yes, but a slice of precision steering there for the taking.

It wasn't an impression that would last - for instance the need to back off the throttle going into a bumpy bend would reveal a very different creature. One that wanted to bounce off the road, turn around back the way it had just come. Fun and games once you get used to it and develop the right reactions - point, squirt and muscle it back on to line... not for ten stone weaklings, I think!

Other mannerisms included chronic head shaking when exiting bends at mach speed - and it wasn't just a case of riding right through it, either, you had to manhandle the sod in the direction of your dreams otherwise you ended up amidst a rolling nightmare! The forks would also flop about in emergency braking even though the twin disc set-up was barely up to coping with the 140mph the bike would occasionally put on the clock - pogo-sticking across a couple of lanes of highway just to make sure I was still awake! Always, I was aware that the frame could turn to plastic without any warning, throwing the mass about like a deranged spastic.

Somehow, I never actually fell off or gave myself a heart attack, though judging by the antics of other road users they came pretty close to meeting their maker when viewing our perambulations. It also dissuaded bikers on modern tackle from trying to go inside or outside me but once they did get ahead, they weren't seen again; even the hot 400 replicas could leave me for dead, at the price of excessive throttle and gearbox action.

The torque of the Z1000's old fashioned air-cooled mill could teach the new kids a thing or two, though even the full weight of its excess guts was slightly muted by having to cart along 600lbs of metal as well as a slightly overweight rider (17 stones ain't nothing up north, boy). Thus were the hefty characteristics of man and machine extremely well matched, though the suspension had been hastily upgraded, not wanting to destroy the rear mudguard and seat in one easy step, nor to rip off the silencers in mild acts of cornering.

A lot of time and effort was put into sorting out its ancillaries. I expected some wear on a 15 year old, 27000 miler, but not the all pervasive rot that was trying to ruin many of the chassis components. Most desperately, the original swinging arm. A brief run around the breakers turned up a classy looking alloy job with a beefy bit of bracing. This needed a couple of spacers and different pair of shocks to work, but I got there in the end. It's not worth thinking about having this component break up on you at speed, is it?

The saddle base was repaired with GRP, the mudguards replaced with plastic, the bottom of the petrol tank welded up and the downpipes wire-brushed and coated in heat resistant matt black paint. Such an energetic act that it caused the fast decaying silencers to disintegrate in sympathy; replaced by a couple of universal cans that luckily were the same length as the originals and did no harm to the carburation. A nice snarl results above 6000 revs, where the engine comes into its power, and an even better concerto on the overrun.

The paint was also damaged, flaking off and letting rust sprout. The frame was covered in red-oxide, left like that where it didn't show and given a bit of black Smoothrite where it did. Tank and panels were done to the original colours, the bloody decals costing almost as much as the paint job! The finished result looked jolly classy to my eyes, a view shared by many ex-bikers who ear-holed me with stories of their kicks on similar machines back in the midst of time. None of the blighters made me an offer I couldn't refuse, though!

Not that I really wanted to sell. Despite needing a bit of tender loving care along the way, handling like something out of the ark and not being on the pace with the 600's, the fundamental point about these old Kawasaki fours shouldn't be missed - the engines are incredibly tough! Mine has now clocked up 116,000 miles! An oil change every 1000 miles has paid off, though with roller crank bearings it's not even dependent on fresh oil. The carbs get a balance every 5000 miles, though I'm not sure they need it whilst the valves are left for more than 25000 miles and even then only very rarely need any attention.

The only other bike I've come across with a similar aura of indestructibility in the face of such neglect's the GS550 - a mate's got one up to 160,000 miles. We have a good laugh at similar era Honda fours which need loads of rebuilds and the XJ Yamaha's aren't much better. Friends on replica 600's are usually in big trouble come 60,000 miles, though I know one guy who got 89000 miles out of an early Yamaha FZR600 - he has a very light hand on the clutch! That makes the Z one of the few bikes I'd buy without really worrying about the state of its engine.

The price paid for such build quality, as mentioned, is all the mass it has to carry around. You get used to it after a while. The top heavy feel disappears and it's easy to become convinced that this is the way motorcycles should be built... until the bends get too fast and the roads too bumpy. Mine's got flat bars and rear-sets, which gives a quantum improvement in comfort over the stocker, which is more likely to make you feel like a human sail than part of the machine.

Long distance cruising is limited to 85-90mph. At this velocity, as long as the road is reasonably smooth and the curves not too tight, the Z feels well settled and the wind's force isn't so extreme that I can't lean into it. Open the throttle in top, there's a very strong rush of power up to about 125mph; more available if you can hang on. Anything more than 90mph for more than a few minutes is heavy going, though. Not just the wind pressure but the muscle expended fighting the brutal monster into submission. I can do it, have done it, but the returns, in terms of distance covered and time saved, don't merit the feeling of being totally knackered.

Two grand will get you in the low end of the game, three thousand notes needed for a really prime example with low mileage. Not a great bargain but it's the kind of bike you can keep for decades and just get off on its brutality; a true original.

R.O.