Tokyo Terrors

With my fortunes not looking too rosy in recession struck England, I decided to try my hand at English teaching in Japan. After a few false starts and a rapidly decreasing bank balance I finally got myself set up. With a few pay cheques behind me, I started looking for a suitable bike. As I had borrowed from everyone I knew for the ticket and various other expenses, the only real criteria was cheapness. In 1991, before the influx of parallel imports, bikes in Japan seemed incredible bargains. A new CBR 600 going for about 3,500 quid with insurance and on the road fees seeing this figure closer to four grand. Great bargain though it may have been, I could barely afford the aforementioned extras, let alone the sticker price.

So back down to earth and a Honda XL 250, bought from a friend for 350 quid with forty back because the front brake didn't work. He had been riding it around congested central Tokyo like that for a year or so. I'd even been on the back a few times and wondered why he seemed to consider the smallest gaps preferable to braking. The bike was a mid 80's machine, with something over 23,000 kilometres on the clock. The broken speedo cable ruling out a more accurate guess at the mileage - plus the indecipherable Japanese paperwork at that age.

The next step was to brave the most time consuming Japanese bureaucracy. The first step is that the seller has to remove the numberplate and go to the Tokyo DVLC and hand in the plate, spending half a day going from office to office gathering together a hefty looking wad of papers, paying for each one. This is then passed on to the buyer, who then returns to the same offices and repeats the procedure in reverse, finally ending up with a new plate, with this process being repeated each time a bike is sold. The only purpose was to give about 50 people a job and to deter buyers from private sales.

As the bike hadn't seen the road for some time I treated it to the usual new battery, plug, oil change and in this case brake shoes. Not that the pathetic single sided drum was much better, even cleaned up and re-shoed. Still it was transport and proved to be reliable, always starting first or second kick and settling down to an even tickover, rain or shine.

I went pretty much everywhere on it for few months, found it easy to ride in traffic, pulling well from low revs, with precious little in the top end though. Off road it proved light and easily managed on hiking trails, but owing to the ancient tyres and tired suspension I never ventured much deeper into the rough. The bike didn't really have enough power for it either. On the road, as with most other trail oriented machines, it was somewhat undergeared, straining up to an indicated 110 km/h, with mechanical sympathy stopping me from trying to maintain such speeds.

After a few months I was thoroughly bored with the bike and began thrashing it mercilessly at any opportunity, with no loss of reliability. Fuel was consumed at what seemed a moderate rate, although calculating the fuel consumption proved beyond me, given that I didn't know the capacity of the tank and have never really cottoned on to the metric system of kilometres and litres.

So it had to go to make room for something a bit bigger, I had recently come into some money and didn't have the space for two bikes. I advertised the bike in the local classified paper for a bit less than I had acquired it for, and it was taken by the first punter. Quite literally, in fact. A Frenchman came to see it, and requested a test ride. I duly agreed, but suggested I hold his cash while he was gone, and that was the last I ever saw of him. Foolishly, I concluded that I had his cash so didn't bother to contact the police about the fact that it was still registered in my name. All went well until he crashed into a car and scarpered. I finally escaped the irate car owner's calls and threats by moving.

So I had this money burning a hole in my pocket, looked at a few 400s, but couldn't really find anything I fancied, Then a small bike shop near my new residence had an FZR1000, 1989, the pre-EXUP, Genesis model, going for about 2,200 quid with 6,000 kilometres on the clock. A UK model that had been re-imported back into Japan to avoid the only recently reversed 750cc limit in Japan.

I finally persuaded the shop's aging owner that I could be trusted for a test ride, and gingerly took off down the road. As the largest bike I had ever owned before was a well used Moto Guzzi Monza, the acceleration of the FZR was mind-blowing. When I finally found a bit of semi-open road I attempted to open it up. Needless to say, in busy central Tokyo I couldn't get much above 6,000 rpm, but was smitten nevertheless. I handed over the money the next day, which left me eating cup noodles until payday, but at this point logic was not really part of the equation.

Two weeks later I took delivery of the Yamaha and so commenced ownership of my first ‘big' bike. After a couple of weeks as I built up my confidence I started to ride a bit harder, although I was never really able to use all of the performance. The engine was a real gem pulling smoothly from about two grand all the way to the red-line, in any of the 5 gears with no pronounced power steps or flat spots, although the power did seem to come in with more urgency at about 7,000rpm. The linearity of the delivery became a bit boring after a while, it was all just a little too refined and civilised.

The handling, however, was pretty much faultless, at least up to speeds of about 120mph, when the front end seemed to go really light, with the bars shaking around in my hands. A full on speed wobble never ensued, but it never felt as planted as the 900SS Duke, that I owned a few years later. Although in retrospect this could have been something as simple as poorly balanced tyres. This vague feeling was often felt on the brakes into the corner. Never anything worrying, just not as confidence inspiring as either the Ducati or a friend's Kawasaki ZX7 that I once borrowed for a weekend.

In the Yamaha's favour, though, it was considerably more comfortable than the Kawasaki, which seemed to demand a reversal of arm and leg lengths. Actually, the Battlaxes it came fitted with never seemed as controllable on the limit as Dragon Corsas I had fitted to the Ducati. Up to 120mph it handled well enough, though. On one occasion, I was pretty much fully cranked over, just putting the power down as I exited a long sweeping right-hand bend when I hit a pot-hole of crater-like proportions. The front wheel jumped about two feet to the left and the bars jumped almost lock to lock as the wheel took the impact. At this point I think I was totally out of control, and it was only the overall integrity of the chassis that took over and prevented a big come off.

Ownership went quite smoothly for about six months, which was useful as I couldn't really afford to pay for any major repair work, until one night I was coming home on the raised expressway that circles Tokyo and the thermostat went. The result being that the twin fans weren't coming on and the engine was overheating every few kilometres. As this was a bank holiday, the roads were packed and there were very few lay-bys. Which left me sitting by the side of the road waiting for the engine to cool down while massive trucks came hammering past about two inches from my right ear.. Not an experience I would like to repeat. I finally got the bike to a garage and was charged what I considered to be an outrageous 150 quid for a new thermostat.

It turned out that the rear disc was dangerously worn down and needed replacing. I was quoted about $250 for a new one. As I was going to Hawaii the next week I couldn't afford to pay for it at the time. It turned out that the same disc manufactured by Yamaha in Japan, was only $180 in Hawaii. This seemed very odd logic to me, especially considering that the entire bike would be cheaper in Japan, but perhaps shows how certain markets get screwed more than others.

I finally changed the Battlaxes for, interestingly, another set of the same, I didn't really know any better at the time and had a full service. A not unreasonable 400 notes, or would that be unreasonable? I have to admit ignorance of such costs in the UK. And then set out for what turned out to be my final ride on the Yamaha.

I lost the front end at about 60mph on a pretty tight corner, heading towards Mount Fuji. I didn't see the small patch of ice just past the corner and there was little I or the bike could do this time. I came out bruised but essentially unhurt, but the bike unfortunately was another story. It had slid under the barrier along the side of the road and wedged itself there.

Four cigarettes later I called my Japanese girlfriend and able translator to get a breakdown truck to dig it out. This proved tricky as I had no idea where I was and we were in the middle of a major argument. I didn't want to hang around, though, as I had heard that the Japanese police charge you for the damage to the barrier. The truck turned up eventually and with screeching of metal and plastic hauled the bike out.

It was fairly obvious it was a write off. The fairing was, of course, shattered, the forks bent, clocks smashed, frame dented, etc. The engine did seem okay, though, if a little battle-scarred, although with my minimal mechanical knowledge not of too much use to me. The bike finally ended up at a breakers, who presented me with a bill for disposing of it . That's not the cost of the breakdown truck, I'd already paid that, but breakers here charge for disposing of the parts that they later sell. Another very curious piece of logic. Naturally I never paid the bill, reasoning that he could take the money out of the brand new tires.

So I was back at square one again, no bike and no money as the insurance I had at the time was third party only. After a few months of overtime the bruises were long gone and I'd been able to scrape together about 1800 nptes and was back in the market for a bike again. As the FZR really was too big for city driving, which was mostly what I did, I decided to get something a bit smaller.

A Suzuki Goose 350 single came up locally and although it was a bit more than I wanted to pay, at about 2000 notes I went to see it. It was just over a year old and had covered 4000 kilometres in that time. I thought it looked great, with its shining metallic blue paint job, chunky little upside-down forks and swept back exhaust system. I even thought that it sounded great if a little over-silenced. Needless to say, I bought it on the spot.

I suppose to many people a 33hp single doesn't really sound like a recipe for fun, but I found it to be great around town, being so narrow and light after the FZR. The engine is from the DR off-roader with another few horsepower and is a real gem lower down the rev range, being tractable with faultless carburation, although it really felt a bit strangled at the upper end of the rev range. It certainly didn't rev anywhere near as freely as a friend's Honda GB250 I rode a few times.
 One interesting point was that being derived from an off road unit, the idling could be easily adjusted using an easily accessible knob on the side of the carburettor. Gave me something to do at the traffic lights. After a few long rides into the countryside I soon got used to just how far over the bike could be leant, however it never really felt solidly planted, needing constant corrections to keep it on line.

Magazines such as Grey Bike had always described it as an excellent handler so I began to wonder about this. Finally, after seeing a few others it dawned on me that the previous owner had dropped the forks by about an inch and a half to speed up the steering. This had thrown the geometry out, which resulted in its flighty feel cranked over. With the forks returned to their rightful position it was much better, a little slower on the turn in, but much more controllable through the corner. Although only equipped with a single disc up front, braking was always adequate, with a big handful powerful enough to squeal the front tire.

As an everyday machine it was surprisingly comfortable. The thinly padded seat was never intrusive, and although the bike was small its narrowness and well thought out ergonomics, made for a reasonably comfortable ride, at least for my frame. It was certainly heaps better than the FZR, with its wide tank and high footpegs, which always left me desperately stretching my legs at any opportunity on rides of over a 100 miles or so.

Pillion accommodation was something of a joke, though, the thinly padded ledge on the back only really suitable for midgets or yoga types. On the motorway it would cruise at about 80mph all day, which given the completely unpredictable nature of the Japanese cager was about as fast as I wanted to go. The GPS navigation screens/TVs have become really popular in recent times, so Mr. Myopic Cage has yet another distraction to deal with, along with the portable phone in one hand and the cigarette in the other.

Finally one of them got me, inevitable really. I was sitting at one of the sets of traffic lights that Tokyo is peppered with, none of which seem to be synchronised, when one of those massive 4WDs comes out of a side street in reverse. I didn't see him as I was intently watching one of the shortest skirts I'd seen in a while make its way up the street. Anyway he comes out of the street in reverse hits the front wheel knocking me over in the process, runs over the front wheel, changes gear and promptly drives off.

Needless to say, given the speed it all happened I didn't catch his number and there seemed to have been no witnesses among the hundreds of people making there way to work. Apart from the demolished front wheel, everything else was miraculously OK, there weren't even any scratches on the paint work. I tried to tell myself that it could have been a lot worse, which of course it could have been, however I'd really have loved to get my hands on the driver and to have exacted some long and painful retribution.

The bill for a new wheel and tire, plus the cost of picking up the bike came to close to 600 notes, and once again the insurance didn't cover it. Four days later I managed to write off the Goose under a truck, with pretty much everything being in some way damaged, except for, ironically, the new front wheel. The frame was bent, sump cracked, etc, with me walking away with only 12 stitches in my leg. Another lucky escape, all things considered.

So once again I found myself with no money and no bike, however this is 9 months later and I have just taken delivery of a new Honda VTR 250, and am hoping to have a bit more luck this time round.
I'd recommend the Goose for city riding, but not for any distance riding, there really isn't enough power. As for the FZR, it was surprisingly manageable for the size, with a good spread of power.

Napoleon Mannering