Going straight from a mild Honda CG125 to a relatively wild Suzuki GSX750ES almost did for me. I bought a one year old bike that was in prime condition. Vast quantities of power were just a throttle’s twist away. It was so willing that I found it almost impossible to potter along at 30mph. The engine wanted to scream up the rev band every time I touched the throttle. Power really flowed in at seven grand, but the engine had an hard edged feel at as little as 3000rpm. Probably helped by the delightful if somewhat loud note of the Motad 4-1.
A long conversation with a police officer who wasn’t very amused with my doing 60mph through some quite busy town streets gave pause for thought. As did the time I nearly rammed the bike into the back of a Volvo which seemed to be reversing rapidly towards me. Believe me, the kind of acceleration these straight fours put down is startling. I have been lucky enough to drive some fast cars but they are as nothing compared with large motorcycles.
Luckily, despite its mass getting on for 500lbs, the big Suzuki was surprisingly easy to throw around, down to its tiny 16” wheel. Shod with Metz tyres, stability was brilliant after the way the little Honda had been thrown about by each and every bump in the road. Suspension soaked up all but the worst of the pot-holes, the mono-track rear end being especially effective once the shock’s setting had been turned up high.
The curious nature of the anti-dive on the front forks took some getting used to, as it was so effective I was never sure when the brake was going to lock up. As these were twin discs of immense power the removal of all feedback proved problematical, at least to this relative novice. The first time it rained I grabbed a handful of brake, to avoid a mad Sierra, only to find the front wheel had locked up. The really bad thing about small front wheels is the way they suddenly let loose without any warning. The first I knew of the catastrophe was when my leg hit the deck and the GSX slid away in a pile of sparks. I was shaken up but too worried about my pride and joy to take much notice of the pain.
By some miracle the bike had missed all the cars and ended up laying forlornly in the gutter, pissing out petrol. In one adrenalin inspired movement I righted the beast, a feat of considerable strength under normal circumstances. Relief mingled with pain from the lacerated leg when I saw that the cycle was merely slightly scratched. The fairing and bars took the worst of the tarmac smashing.
After that little affair I always rode in the wet in a state of terror, using engine braking and the rear disc, itself totally lacking in feel. But a locked up back wheel was much easier to cope with than a front wheel slide. I did begin to suspect the tyres but a set of Avons were even worse, with a tendency to slide on slightly damp roads. Just to really annoy me, the calipers seized up with the first dose of winter salt.
Whilst I was pulling the front wheel off, I decided to disconnect the anti-dive. This much improved the feedback from the front brake, although having the forks bounce on their stops under heavy braking was almost as worrying as having the front wheel lock up, until I became used to it. Front tyre life was never better than 5000 miles on Metz’s and when the tyre was worn out the GSX became most sensitive to white lines. The 17” rear managed about 6000 miles, so that made the bike very expensive to run.
Cruising speed was anything you'd care to dial in, up to about 120mph when the 80 horses had trouble cutting through the wind turbulence, despite the half fairing. A couple of times I put 135mph on the clock, only a slight weave upsetting the stability and very little secondary vibration coming off the across the frame four. On fast motorway curves the back wheel bounced about just enough to make you aware that you were on a Japanese motorcycle and not some extortionately expensive Wop thoroughbred.
As the 1986 engine had only done 8000 miles when I got my hands on it, I expected and got total reliability over the next two years and 17000 miles. To be honest, the 16 valve engine was such a complex beast to my eyes that I did very little to it, only doing an occasional oil change when the gearbox became less than smooth. I know people say you should change the oil every 1000 miles but the engine purred away so reliably that I ignored such well founded advice. I was determined to get my hands on a GSXR1100 eventually, so treated the 750 merely as a stop gap rather than a long term proposition.
After the first few months I became a little blase about the power and speed of the beast, partly because my mates had acquired even more rapid race replicas and I was hard pressed to keep them in sight. I did quite a few long tours in their company; what the Suzuki lacked in speed it more than made up in comfort and range, the 4.3 gallon tank lasting for nearly 180 miles before I had to hit reserve.
On less insane throttle use I could get as much as 65mpg out of the beast, about half what the CG did but about ten times more fun, so good value. The same could not be said for drive chains. This was down to pure bad design on the part of the GSX, combing an extremely long swinging arm with a tiny engine sprocket gave the chain a very hard time - about 5 to 7000 miles, the sprockets not doing much better. All the chain oil thrown off protected the rear wheel from corrosion which ate into the front wheel at a terrifying rate. There was supposed to be a gold and alloy finish, but it had all but disappeared under the white rash. The frame paint was just as dubious but the finish on the plastic bits and petrol tank still shone nicely when I came to sell the bike.
The range is famous for blowing its rectifier, burning out its alternator and destroying its battery, but my bike never gave a moment's cause for concern in the electrical department. I didn’t even have a bulb blow. The electric starter churned the engine over for quite a long time from cold, the motor being very temperamental until it had five minutes of warming up, such was the leanness of the carburation. It may just have been down to the Motad exhaust disturbing the mixture at low revs, but I could live with that in exchange for the reasonable fuel economy.
The other area of concern is the top end, some reports of burnt out exhaust valves and premature piston ring demise had reached my ears, but again my bike never had any failures in this area, despite my neglect of valve clearances. Both faults will probably turn up on higher mileage examples, but there are plenty of bits in breakers, so the possibility exists for cheaply fixing up one that has been neglected.
A friend of mine has owned a similar bike from new, doing over 140000 miles with no major problems. He admits to two new camchains, one rebore and a couple of refurbished alternators plus associated electrics. His bike still looks OK but has been treated to a weekly clean and monthly service throughout its life. The gearbox, crankshaft and gear primary drive are incredibly tough on these engines, never seeming to give any problems.
When I sold mine there were a couple of minor faults that would have turned expensive had I had to attend to them in the next couple of months. A new set of calipers were due all round, there was a bit of looseness in the Full Floater back end and the fork seals were shot. Luckily, the dealer was so keen to make a deal on the bike against a new GSXR1100 that he didn’t notice these things and I got almost what I'd originally paid for the bike in part exchange.
After the first long ride on the GSXR I began to wonder if I'd made a grave mistake, the bloody thing appeared to be designed as a particularly painful form of torture. I could hardly walk after doing a 100 miles and began to understand why a lot of my mates had strange postures and were looking old before their time. I had no choice but to adapt to the thing over the next two years, there was too much money and face at stake to make a quick change. I have much more pleasant memories of the GSX750 than I do of the 1100!
Adrian Bryce