What a lovely growi the DR600 makes, was my first impression of this most rare of big thumpers. Judging by the way all the black paint on the exhaust had turned to rust there wasn’t much by way of baffles left. There were lots of other signs of abuse and neglect on the 1987 machine which had done 14000 miles in two years. However, the engine ran without rattling and the price, at £825, allowed a bit of extra dosh to be spent on consumables, all of which were worn out.
It took about a week to sort new tyres, bulbs, pads, shoes, filters, chain and sprockets. Also, I had to take off all the surface rust, paint up the bare metal thus revealed and polish the plastic bits until they took on a slight shine. A full service took about an hour and revealed an engine in jolly good condition.
The riding position was well weird for this road orientated pilot. The 35 inch seat height perched me way above the tarmac while the handlebars were almost in my lap. Moving back a few inches on the short seat helped, but put me even higher off the ground as the seat slopes steeply down from the back. Only very small frails with whom you had or wanted an intimate relationship could be fitted on the pillion.
Moving off, the bike felt a bit top heavy and very sensitive to input at the handlebars. This feeling largely disappeared once above 20mph and after a few weeks I was even able to come to a stop with my feet up, sitting there defying gravity with a self-satisfied smirk on my. face. Use of the front disc made the forks bounce up and down on their stops, the brake lacking feel and would, I guess, be a total disaster on trail work.
The nearest I got to off road madness was throwing the DR up on to pavements in heavy traffic. The temptation to ride over the tops of car was often high but I managed to resist. Weighing only about 300lbs meant that it was dead easy to thrash through the lines of stalled cagers, the loud growl of the exhaust, as we revved hard in the lower gears, had the cagers craning their necks looking for a runaway diesel truck.
Power delivery was rather confused. Although the engine would run at low revs without stuttering, there was none of the flywheel effect that was so beloved of British singles. Suzuki claimed 44hp at 6500rpm, which started to appear at around 3500rpm, climaxing at 7000rpm. The engine could be caned in the lower gears to about 8000rpm but there was so much vibration through the tank, pegs and bars that it made continued engine life questionable.
The 589cc motor is really a big version of the ever reliable GS125, with the addition of a couple of engine balancers and a four valve head. It’s a neat, compact unit that at a glance could pass for a 250. The engine balancers were never entirely effective, there was always a slight buzz but it really only became very annoying above 6000rpm. The low mass of the chassis obviously did little to absorb the vibration put out by the thumper. Another strange idiosyncrasy of the engine was that it would often stall dead if running along in fourth or fifth at less than 2000rpm.
Starting was always interesting, the long kickstart needing a hefty kick. The high seat made it impossible to safely achieve this from the saddle. | leaned the bike on its stand and had to put all my weight into it. Hot engines usually came to life first kick, but cold ones could need five or six kicks. The engine ticked over poorly until it’d had ten minutes of blipping the throttle. Spark plugs rarely lasted more than 3000 miles, evidence of their demise a refusal to start.
It was perhaps a bit perverse of me to bung on a larger engine and smaller rear sprocket. The gearing worked at about 20% taller than stock, but I had already noted that the bike could be wound off from a standing start in third gear with just the slightest amount of clutch slip. Take-offs in first were fine with the modified gearing, except on very steep hills when the engine started to bog down unless the clutch was abused. Fourth and fifth proved difficult to use in traffic, needing at least 40mph on the speedo.
That didn’t throw me, too much, as the bike was able to cruise at a very relaxed 85mph, with a deep, contented growl out of the exhaust and so little vibration that it soon faded into the background. Fuel also improved, from 45mpg to 58mpg. I put a proper mudguard on the front, the stock bird catcher looking horrible, allowing both rider and engine to be covered in crud whenever it rained.
The puny handlebar fairing and upright riding position made for some agony under sustained high speed cruising. It was possible to use the pillion pegs and get my head down, but after ten minutes my arms became painful because of their contorted position. Fitted with some Avon Gripster tyres, stability and flickability were sufficient to give street middieweights nightmares on twisty roads. Well set up trail bikes can be very entertaining.
The Full Floater back end was less inclined to use up all its nine inches of travel than the front and left my back in a happy state even on the most rutted, neglected of roads. The gaiters on the front forks eased my mind about seal life and putting about twice the recommended amount of air in them did help with the braking dive. | was never entirely happy with the 21” wheel as it always. lacked precision and could quite easily wander off line unless constant input was maintained.
After about six months, with 22000 miles on the clock, the top end started rattling. The exhaust rockers rocked more than they should and the valves were a little burnt. The twin exhaust pipes glowed red in the dark, so I guess the top end runs a little hotter than it should, always a problem on air-cooled, four valve motors. There were none in breakers, so a large wedge was handed over to the Suzuki dealer - I also found that a rebore was needed. I didn’t have much change from £150 by the time I'd finished.
Not wanting to do another rebuild, I always changed the engine oil every 750 miles; there wasn’t very much of it so it was cheap enough. When the rear shock went, at about 24000 miles, I took the opportunity to fit a shorter one with harder springs and only five inches of travel. Of course, I had to have the forks modified to suit, also having an 18” rim fitted. This transformed the feel of the bike, the lower seat and centre of gravity making the DR much more secure.
I rode around like this for about 4000 miles, getting a bit more battered by the road surface but really having a ball throwing the Suzuki around. I had started making plans to fit a big alloy tank and new seat, to finish off the transformation from trailster to roadster, when total disaster struck.
I was stringing the bike along at 90mph in top gear, with the taller gearing the DR felt quite at home and none too strained. I had once or twice even pushed the Suzuki past the ton, but that did produce a lot of vibration. Anyway, I must've done about sixty miles at 90mph on a very boring bit of the M1, when I felt the engine start to tighten up. The next thing I knew the back wheel was whipping from side to side, trying to lock up as solidly as the engine.
Before I could pull the clutch in the chain snapped, which freed the wheel so suddenly the bike almost lurched into the crash barrier. I almost pissed myself but managed to hurl the machine towards the hard shoulder and eventually free-wheel to a stop. The con-rod had whacked a big hole in the crankcase and the chain had cracked the gearbox casing. Bits of shattered piston had finished off the rest of the engine. Turned out that there was nothing I could salvage from the DR600 motor.
It wasn’t the end of the bike, though, I used the chassis to house, first, an XT350 engine and then a refurbished SP370 motor. I never did get around to replacing the tank and seat, I kind of lost heart after the motor exploded - the hybrid is now a King Rat. DR600s are so rare that I have never been able to find out how common is their demise. A mechanic friend reckons I might have obscured an oilway when I rebuilt the motor. I could give the bike the benefit of the doubt, but not to the extent of buying another.
Clive