The big 1100 stuttered once or twice, then went dead. This was just a little worrying as it occurred with 130mph on the clock in the fast lane of a German autobahn. It didn’t feel the same as petrol running out, so all I could do was grab the clutch and free-wheel through a sea of Merc’s and BMWs. Even in the slow lane they were doing 70 to 80mph, so they were not impressed by a dead Kawasaki slicing into their territory. Somehow, we made it to the side of the road without causing a big accident.
Total electrical failure was the problem. The fuses were OK but the battery was dead as a dodo, totally devoid of any acid. I had to admit that in the 16000 miles I'd done on the bike from new I had not once looked at the battery. If it worked I tended to leave well alone. With my luggage on the back, the Kawasaki must have weighed about 550lbs. I could see a turn-off about a mile up the road, so there was nothing for it but to push the beast. It was a matter of pushing for a minute or so, then taking a breather. By the time I was off the autobahn I was next to dead. Luckily, it was downhill all the way to a small village, so I could sit astride the ZZR, doing about 3mph.
Of course, they didn’t have any motorcycle batteries, but I strapped a small car battery on the pillion perch and wired it up to the leads. The Kawasaki roared into life and I had to hurl the bike down a series of narrow country lanes until we met up with a main road that would take us the thirty miles to Cologne. The ZZR did not like being hurled around sharp bends that were hardly wide enough for a single car, speed often down to a pathetic 20mph as I struggled with the bars and mass.
Once on the main road, though, life improved considerably. I gave the bike a blast to clear away the summer heat, putting over the ton on the clock in an instant. The way the motor pumps out both power and torque is amazing. Any speed, up to 150mph, is just a twist of the throttle away even in top gear. Yet, the motor is so smooth and civilised at lower revs. It’s hard to believe that anyone will better the characteristics of this mill.
Coming to a junction, I looked behind to check the battery was OK and was shocked to my core to find that half the seat and plastic panel were eaten away. The acid was boiling away so vividly I imagined that the battery was jumping up and down on what was left of the pillion perch. I pottered on for about two miles at minimal revs (it'll run down to 1500rpm in top if you have a gentle throttle hand) until I came to a garage.
I found the rectifier and snipped off its wires. Bought some distilled water to top up the battery and let all the bubbling subside. Had it not been a heavy duty auto item, I suspect that it would have been dead already. There was still enough power to churn over the engine and I had nine miles to do to reach Cologne. We lolled along at a fair pace, not sure if we would make it or not.
Having spent a couple of days in the city before, I knew where there was a Kawasaki dealer. We hit the town just as the rush hour was at its most intense. If I used the indicators it cut out the engine! It was pretty. wild, manoeuvring the massive ZZR through the hectic traffic, baffling Kraut cagers with my obscure hand signals. The bike stalled 400 yards from the dealer’s and refused to turn over on the starter. The push up a slight incline just about finished me off.
They were closing up for the night but agreed to put the bike in their workshop and give it a going over the next day. The mechanic gave me a lift into the, town centre. As he rode a turbo charged Z900 this left me with weak legs and shaking hands. I staggered into the first bar I came to and grabbed a massive tankard of German lager. The evening quickly turned pretty vague after that. My clearest memory is waking up in the morning next to a huge German fraulein. I couldn’t recall what we'd done but the way she snored and her ten gallon beer belly convinced me it was a good idea to do a runner.
More bad news greeted me at the Kawasaki shop. The rectifier and regulator were both wrecked, although the alternator was OK. Mucho bread went west on those, as well as a new battery. The seat and panel were taped over, their replacement would have to wait until I got back to the UK and could visit the breakers. The dealer reckoned he had one ZZR that had done the same trick to mine, so it’s something to bear in mind when buying one.
That said, before that incident the bike had been ultra reliable, needing only a couple of shims in the valves, three carb balances and the usual oil/filter changes. Reassured that my electrical system was working OK, I proceeded to blast through Germany, spending a most enjoyable week in Berlin (very decadent) and putting another 4500 miles on the clock. I actually saw 170mph on the speedo in one high speed dash when racing a Porsche... amazing to do that kind of speed without fear of arrest.
Brilliant place, Germany. Some of the Krauts complained about all the ‘strangers’ coming from the East and the cost of reunification but they were all amazingly patriotic. The car and bike mags slagged off foreign products even when other magazines said they were better than German vehicles. When pressed, the Germans always admitted that even if times were hard their massive trade surplus would see them through. The roads are fantastic fun, the bars and beer first rate, whilst the young women seem willing to drop their knickers at the hint of an English accent.
Even when thrashed, the Kawa turned in 45 to 50mpg, tyres lasted 4000 to 5000 miles (the bike runs OK on worn out tyres) whilst brake pads and chain are still original with 22500 miles done so far - I do tide in a smooth manner and don’t indulge in wheelies or other stupidity.
Although the ZZR is a heavy bike, it’s no more difficult than a GPz750, that I used to own, to chuck around at lower speeds and one hell of a lot more stable at three figure speeds. The suspension, which was originally supple and taut, lost some of its precision after the first 15000 miles but still stopped any of the wallowing or wobbling so rendolent of seventies superbikes - don’t be taken in by this retro crap, I was there at the time and can tell you that bikes like ZZRs are miles ahead. Not least because the fairing is so good, giving excellent body protection even at insane speeds and throwing a smooth flow of air or water over the rider’s head. Occasional pillions did complain about turbulence but I usually ride alone.
A lot of readers will insist that the machine is too large and powerful for UK roads. They are probably right as I’m close to losing my licence. The flow of power is so easily available that a moment's inattention lets the speed creep up to over the ton on motorways. It feels so relaxed and, yes, safe that it makes a mockery out of speed limits. The few times I’ve had to hit the brakes in fear, retardation has been incredible and I stopped a few yards before I expected, avoiding disaster. The way my balls bounced against the tank almost made me throw up, though!
I bought my bike for well under six grand and used they are available for as little as £4000. Compared to smaller bikes that’s pretty good value in my book. As it’s my only vehicle I use the bike for everything, from commuting to high speed touring. The only downer is that insurance is so expensive I’ve had to take the risk of TPF&T rather than fully comp. I can’t think of anything I could trade the ZZR in for, even if I grew bored with the bike, which I haven’t and won't. I’ve already planned another month on the Continent and I can hardly wait!
Dick