“One, two, three,” I shouted as loud as I could. It didn’t help. I could not budge the stricken Kawasaki from the tarmac where it lay. 500lbs was too much mass to shift. The bike had bounced down the tarmac when the front tyre, an admittedly elderly Roadrunner, had let loose on the greasy road surface. After a few more minutes of muscle straining a huge cager came to my aid, but even he had to struggle with the Z750.
Damage was confined to bent levers and a slightly dented exhaust. My pride had taken the greater battering. I continued on my way cautiously. The front end was more usually fairly predictable. It was the rear wheel that usually caught me out, stepping out under the sudden, switchblade like application of power come 7000 revs when the beast came on cam, powering up to maximum revs and the full 75 horses. The first few months with the bike had been frantic, but now I was more or less master of my universe.
Every time I thought I had gained full control of beast it always had some nasty little trick up its sleeve. A 1982 machine, it had been owned by a series of highway hoodlums who each added his own brand of modifications. The last had decided three inch longer shocks was just the thing to cure the wallowing that came as standard fare. I soon learnt that this was a bad idea as the bike wanted to sit up in corners under the slightest provocation. Within days I had fitted suspension of the correct length. I found I had swapped cornering instability for high speed weaves of a most violent nature.
The handling of this machine at speed was most unpredictable. In fact, the handling was totally unpredictable at any rate of knots, plodding or blasting through the limits, but at slower speeds there was time to react to the mad machinations or if the worst came to the worst dab a boot down.
Motorway riding was by far the most annoying. The Z would go for fifty miles at 90mph as if it was on rails, save for a bit of twitchiness, then suddenly some unseen reaction to the road would send the beast into a frenzy of weaves and wobbles. Thereafter it would wallow for a few miles and then either try a death twitch or settle back into a relaxed poise. It was as if there was some essential bolt that kept coming undone and then slowly doing itself up again. Most perplexing.
The engine was in much better shape than the chassis despite having suffered at least 75000 miles of abuse. There was plenty of evidence that it had been rebuilt at least once, if not many times. Wired in bolts on the underside of the engine were evidence of either meticulous preparation by a past owner (perhaps an old Brit bike fanatic with nightmares of the effects of vibration) or that it had spent many a day being thrashed at the race track. I hoped it was the former but suspected the latter was more realistic.
The clutch grabbed on ferociously and required a grip on the lever reminiscent of an old Norton I once had the misfortune to own. The past owner had informed me that it had stronger springs and plates than stock. The gearbox was notchy in nature but precise in function, never missing a change. The 4-1 exhaust had a subdued roar and was matched well by induction modified with bigger jets and K & N filters. No flat spots as such, just a huge surge of power. The bike would plod along at low revs happily enough but changing down a few gears was necessary to make the machine really motor.
The front forks were off a different model, as were the wheels and brakes. I never did trace exactly which, but the braking was both extremely powerful and very sensitive, despite the presence of the seemingly obligatory triple discs. The ride was firm but a few notches short of the back breaking tautness of an old British twin. The wobbles and weaves seemed to be the result of some weakness in the frame or its bearings, or perhaps merely shockingly poor steering geometry. The bike never felt entirely happy at any particular speed, there was always a certain twitchiness apparent.
I tried several different makes of tyres, but could find no cure... I only buy used tyres so perhaps I was on to a loser to begin with. Tyre wear was atrocious, it would take a rear tread down from 3mm to 1mm in less than 2000 miles! My commuting mileage meant I was doing that every two months. Although I only paid a couple of quid a throw for a tyre, the blood and bruises necessary to fit the rubber on the wheel did not leave me in a good mood for weeks afterwards. I did deduce that if you put a worn Metz on the back and a near knackered Roadrunner on the front, the Z would go into one hell of a speed wobble at 85mph!
Another large expenditure was caused by poor fuel consumption. Normally, it would do around 42mpg but if 750 mile carb balance sessions were neglected then it would dive down to a two stroke style 30mpg! It was always easy to know when the carbs needed balancing because secondary vibes started rattling the petrol tank between 5000 and 7000 revs. Access to the inner carbs was knuckle bruising and patience straining but I had a set of gauges and got the time down to about an hour. The valves never seemed to change their clearances so I soon took that as a hint to leave well alone. Someone had fitted electronic ignition in the past, so the only other things I had do was regular oil and filter changes.
I don’t know how lucky I was but in two years I did over 30000 miles without needing to touch the engine! Past owners had spent a small fortune fettling the machine, all I had to do was suffer the inconsiderate handling. A friend who used to race a Z650 reckoned all that was needed was some extra frame bracing around the headstock and swinging arm, plus a decent set of bearings in both those locations. Having once owned a T350 with similar frame bracing mods I was most reluctant to try such a radical cure - the Suzuki had gone fine until the frame had snapped at 60mph. I still had nightmares about the painful trip to the hospital and the way my leg had stuck out at an obscure angle.
The electrics occasionally proved troublesome. Intermittent wiring faults plagued the machine. Every time a circuit tester was taken to the bike the electrics worked perfectly. A gradual replacement strategy of all the old wiring eventually worked wonders. Fuses ceased to blow, bulbs stopped exploding and the battery lasted more than four months. I couldn’t get any extra power out of the huge headlamp, though.
I am quite old to still be motorcycling and not protectively caged (I love that description of car drivers, so apt!), but my finances do not reflect my mature years, so even if I wanted to (which I don't) I could not afford to run a car. I have just about enough money to run ageing Japanese fours that have seen better days but still have some life left in them. I know all about the British bike scene from past experience - they were a lot cheaper to run on the consumable front but needed such frequent rebuilds to compensate for their poor engineering that they ended up costing a lot more.
The Z750 was one of many Japanese fours in the 550 to 850 range that I have owned. I sold the bike still in good running order for what I had originally paid for her. Even allowing for inflation I reckoned that was a good deal. I probably wouldn’t buy another, the Z650 was almost as fast and much more stable. A GS750 I owned was better in all respects and even a Honda CB750F1 was superior in handling and lasted for 35000 miles in my hands before I sold it.
I have seen the odd low mileage Z750 on offer but at £1650 to £2000 they were way overpriced. There is a certain art that only time and experience can bring to bear on owing these old Jap fours. There are lots of real dogs out there waiting to cost you an arm and a leg, so only the experienced should brave these troubled waters... I bought a crashed CBX750 as a replacement and am well happy with this machine now that I have sorted the bent bits.
Charlie Laker