Yamaha XJ600N

I quite enjoyed myself, ringing around official and shadow dealers, trying to get the best deal on a new XJ600N. I didn't want cheap finance or free motorcycle clothes, just the best deal for cash. £3250 delivered in a large crate with some vague promises about the warranty and servicing. A morning's work and I was ready for the road.

The XJ600N is the naked version of the Diversion. 60 horses, 380lbs and a modern line in style that I much preferred to the plastic stuff or the new Fazer. Cost cutting's evident in the single disc and the rather weak suspension but being jockey-light that didn't really bother me. A sensible yet stylish machine was my first impression.

The four cylinder engine had plenty of stomp at running in speeds, made an inspiring gurgle. It fought out and won against the ruined state of modern roads, with the cost of some vagueness from the front end. The initial impression of the front disc was one of imminent death but that was just down to the pads needing to have their glaze removed. After 50 miles there was some strong braking and plenty of feedback, though once I was able to wind the motor up and get as much as 120mph on the clock, the front brake was a bit lacking in bite. As bad as some seventies relic.

Not suicidally, but bad enough to have me nervous about pushing the bike to its limits. The engine enjoyed revs insofar as it went smoother as they climbed but it ran out of puff quite quickly, seemed to have been muffled by the induction or exhaust but there isn't much tuning kit around so perhaps it was the cams. I always felt that there was a much stronger bike trying to poke its way out.

The XJ was an easy bike to leap on to and ride around on for the first time. It didn't appear to have any real vices at all. A lot of this down to its relative lack of mass combined with a low centre of gravity. I could quite happily trickle along at low revs in town, feet up. The riding position was relaxed without being silly, as good at 10mph as it was at the ton. Over an hour's riding had me squirming around a little, the saddle could've been plusher but I could survive a couple of hours without turning homicidal.

One major plus point was an usual economy. Running in speeds resulted in 70-75mpg, whilst normal riding still gave 65-70mpg. By normal, I mean staying within 10mph of the speed limits and riding off from the lights in a spirited manner but not stressing the gearbox, clutch or engine. There was little point wringing the XJ's neck, come 8000 revs most of the power was already laid down. It was one of the smoothest fours that I've ever come across; admittedly my experiences were limited to stuff from the late seventies and early eighties. The engine fair rustled with the excellence of its build quality.

Hopelessly outpaced by the hot 600's, there was one FZR chappie who took a delight in burning me off through the traffic. Wagging around on one wheel he looked like an accident about to happen. I figured he had severe sexual problems and was probably wearing women's underwear! He didn't actually hit anything in my presence but I guess his clutch and gearbox would be short-lived in the extreme. All very silly, modern Jap bikes can be made to last for decades if given the minimum amount of tender loving care.

As most of hoodlums went the Bandit route, there are plenty of well tended XJ600's on offer on the used market. As little as two grand can buy something with less than 20,000 miles on the clock and plenty of life in hand - I've seen bikes still running strong after 50-60,000 miles. Give them a good look and don't dismiss them out of hand because they only make 60 horses - they can still ruin your licence with ease.

After about six months I decided it was time for the Great Tour. This involved heading for the channel tunnel. Unfortunately, I went the same day as a bunch of Ducati owners, off to the World Ducati Day in Italy. They were mostly togged up in full leathers, about one woman for every 100 men and some very odd looking guys who pounced around as if they were heroes rather than looking like they had just been let out of the nearest lunatic asylum. They made snide remarks about the Yamaha, which had me in hysterics given the poor reputation of their steeds. I wasn't surprised to see a couple of them exit the toilet at the same time, silly smirks on their faces!

Some daft bugger did a huge wheelie on a 916, waggled around and nearly knocked me off. I used all my force on the brakes, the prick falling over in front of me. The guy leapt up and shook his fist under my nose, but I let the clutch out and did a disappearing act. A long line of these guys screamed past later on the autoroute and I had no end of fun finding Ducati victims as I meandered along at a steady 95mph - broken down or ridden off the road, I doubt if half of them got to their destination in one piece. At a cost of three times the Yamaha's price it doesn't take much thought to work out who got the better deal.

I was quite happy doing 500 miles in a day (by then I'd put extra foam in the seat!), with fuel around 65mpg and the bike needing absolutely no attention except for filling up with petrol. I was overwhelmed with good feeling towards the Yam, the way it purred relentlessly across the French landscape almost mind blowing, certainly mind expanding! I didn't even panic when the back tyre blew at 90mph! The bike weaved and wobbled but pulled up in a straight line. Fortunately I wasn't far from Cannes and was able to push the bike into town. A car dealer repaired the tyre with a plug, warned not to do more than 60mph. Whatever, the repair didn't upset the handling and I was soon whizzing along happily.

French riders tended to either be on mopeds and scooters or hyperbikes and Dakar rep's, more interested in posing than doing serious mileage. Again, the XJ received some stick from the poseurs but I didn't give a damn. I was happy with my machine. Gawd, the French girls were mind blowing but they didn't want to know; I would've been better off in a 911 than on a 916, so there wasn't even that excuse to buy a Ducati. Not that I would even if they attracted babes; that desperate I'm not. Got to stop wasting time slagging off Italian iron but I get kind of tired of these poseurs with more money than sense.

Back to the XJ600, After 4000 miles of Continental riding, machine and I returned to the bleak, grey skies of an English summer. The bike seemed to run less well, this with 13,000 miles on the clock. I did the decent thing, put the bike in for a full service. 135 notes poorer, running was revived - it was the first time it'd had the valves or carbs done, although I'd done the filter and oil every 2000, or so, miles. The mechanic reckoned that all was well with the motor, that they had a good reputation for longevity.

Beaming with good feeling, I rode off into the sunset. A day later I managed to hit the side of a car that jutted out from a side turning. He saw me at the last moment but rather than doing anything decided to have an heart attack. The warped car meant he was trapped inside! The plod and ambulance crew had fine fun extracting him, barely alive and a rather strange purple colour. Just deserts as the front end was mashed almost beyond recognition. Only way to get her home was on the back of a mate's trailer.

The hefty frame was undamaged so it was just doing the rounds with the breakers until something turned up. Haven't found a replacement front end yet and am suffering severe withdrawal symptoms.

W.S.