Kawasaki Z440: Rotten Reality

My mate, Smithy, was a big bloke who just didn't look right on the small and compact Z440. Every time I saw him on the bike I pointed this out to him. After about three months the message got through his prematurely grey hair into what was left of his brain (too much wine and too many divorces - you know the type!). The bike was up for grabs and perfectly suited to this skinny weasel. Nearly twenty years old, with eleven owners in the registration document, the speedo only showed 23000 miles. I sat on the little twin, felt immediately at home and decided we were soul mates. Handed over the 500 sovs without further ado, making Smithy go all suspicious! Nothing like leaving a trail of paranoia in one's wake, is there?

The Z440 can best be summed as a typical mid-capacity vertical twin in the mould of the milder Triumph and BSA twins of the sixties. As a son of seventies Japanese engineering it added good reliability and reasonable longevity to the genre. Though it could knock up more than the ton, speed wasn't its game, having more low down and midrange torque than most such devices. Its handling revelled in stability rather than fast turning, but that just made it a very safe bike to ride in all conditions.

Okay, the basic, perhaps somewhat soggy, package had, along the way, been upgraded - Girling shocks, stiffer springs and flatter bars. Nothing too expensive or extreme, but just sufficient added stiffness in travel movement and forward redistribution of rider weight to bring out the best qualities that the tubular frame of utterly conventional structure and geometry might possess.

Both the stock stands and exhaust system had a tendency to dig into bumpy country lane curves when the Z was ridden with a touch of elan but the former had been cut back and the bike sported the obligatory loud two into one exhaust system - in all its rust and matt black glory. To be honest, the latter left me with earache and a nervous twitch - I was a very happy man when I bought a new Kawasaki exhaust system for fifty quid when a dealer was having a closing down sale. Performance, at the top end, increased, allowing about 110mph on the flickering speedo - even after I'd added a few dents with the hammer to aid ground clearance.

General riding gave about 60mpg and it took a lot of throttle madness to get the bike below 55mpg. The engine just didn't feel right when revved really hard. The counterbalancer's chain whipped itself into the kind of self-destructive frenzy that gave out more eyeball popping vibes that a similarly thrashed 500 Triumph twin of my acquaintance (a mate's Tiger 100). The Z440 couldn't burn the Tiger off, though it won out in long distance cruising - much more reliable and less vibratory at 80-85mph. Handling was about equal.

The Z was one of those bikes that neither excelled nor annoyed in any one particular area. Generally easy going, it could cruise through town, whip through the bends and loiter on the motorway without looking like an accident about to happen. The parameters of its performance, and age of design, were brought home to me one sunny Sunday when I was thoroughly whipped by a youth on a TZR125 (I presume it was derestricted).

Trying to emulate his line through 70mph bends had the old Kawasaki squirming on the edge of its cheap tyres, the modified exhaust fighting with the tarmac and tears running out of my eyes as I refused to change up from third, knowing that the sudden power jerk would throw us right off the road. The TZR accelerated so much more rapidly that even the theoretical higher top speed of the Z wasn't worth a damn.
I tried to console myself with thoughts of superior longevity and economy but it didn't really work; a bit too undignified to be burnt off by some spotty youth just out of school. I abused the Z for the next couple of days, doing the commuting chores in town until I made the clutch overheat, drag something chronic...

Turned out the engine oil had turned milky white! When I went to take out the sump bolt I found its edges were so worn I couldn't get a spanner to hold. The molegrips slipped off, took a large chunk out of my palm as they snapped shut. The chisel and hammer were reverently unleased and the recalcitrant bugger finally turned! Not just turned, actually fell out, my hand and arm covered in noxious muck that was once upon a time engine lubricant. Some of this got into the cut in my palm, causing an infection, strange liquid seeping out of my hand - could've made a fortune in the bible belt claiming to have a stigma!

Meanwhile, I sorted through my stash of aged spares for something that could be Araldited back in, like the one that had fallen out! Not wanting to go through the same routine every time I changed the oil, I drilled the replacement out, knocked in a new thread for a smaller bolt that could be removed whenever I wanted to do a lube change. A lot easier than having a helicoil fitted into the sump.

When that was all fixed, the engine at least had the common decency to purr back into life with a contented growl, a perfect clutch and much improved gearbox, though it was still nowhere near as good as the even older Tiger's. Ah, pleasant days again! After a few weeks, riding the Z was second nature, no nasty surprises hidden away. Even the Triumph owner got off the Jap twin with a big grin on his face!

The single front disc was soon giving hassle. What a surprise! A mate had a GT750 front end that was persuaded on. This left the poor old Z dangerously overbraked - only had to look at the front brake lever to have the forks shaking in the headstock and the front tyre squealing for all it was worth. First time I used it in the wet nothing happened, I pulled harder and the next thing I knew was a hasty departure from the 440's saddle. The landing was painful, but at least my body saved the Kawasaki from any serious damage.

The GT's front end was promptly returned to its owner and I gave him an uncalled-for bollicking for trying to kill me! EBC pads, a bit of disc machining, secondhand Goodridge hose and new fluid added up to a working front brake that was at least predictable (rather like the whole bike) if not exactly heart-stopping in retardation. The back drum wasn't much better, but didn't need any new components as it would already lock up the wheel without much effort.

That sorted, the days rolled by pretty effortlessly, and I had a good laugh at Smithy who must've bought the one XS650 with a dodgy engine in the country. I actually saw him by the roadside, crying over the fact that half the engine internals were splattered over the tarmac. Refused to contemplate towing him home - one such experience more than enough - but gave the old bugger a lift on the pillion. By the time we reached his house, the ungrateful sod was ranting and raving about my riding technique... something to do with crossing over double-white-lines, I think. Silly old codger.

The next little tantrum was the drive chain snapping, just as I was about to charge off to work. I had a spare bit of chain but was sent ballistic when I couldn't get the engine cover off. The screws refused to budge. Had to get a lift into work and put in some serious hammer work on my return. That's one of the problems with old Japs - the manufacturers obviously had a horror of bits falling off, designed everything to corrode solidly together. Great for riding, very naff for maintenance.

After 9000 miles of having fun, generally enjoying myself, the engine began to puff and groan up the steeper hills. I noticed that the cylinder head was weeping a touch of oil and there was the odd puff of smoke on the overrun. Being of a mildly paranoid disposition I diagnosed that the engine was on the way out and happily accepted an offer off Smithy - what I'd paid for the bike plus one XS650 in bits. Smithy has done another 6000 miles without wrecking the Z and I've just managed to shoehorn an XS400 engine into the 650's chassis - a rather perverse combination but the motor just happened to be going for a song and shouldn't be able to push the XS650's chassis fast enough to bring out the infamous speed wobbles.

Given the chance of a low mileage Z440 at a reasonable price, though, I'd grab it with both hands.

Mark Dobbs