The first thing I did when I got hold of a two year old XT350 was to take off the carb and cut out the obstruction in the inlet path. For some obscure reason the importers deemed this necessary for the UK market. Its effect was to make the engine somnolent, stuck as it was with a mere 17 horses instead of the 30 ponies my piece of handiwork had liberated. This is a well known and perfectly safe mod. The guy I bought the bike off wasn't aware of it and looked happy to be rid of an obviously ineffectual motorcycle.
With its proper complement of power the Yamaha becomes a fun street bike. Capable of pulling wheelies the length of the High Street, running straight across roundabouts and losing irate cagers by taking to the shopping centre. This latter versatility necessary because I swiped the side mirror off an auto full of yobs, whose screaming disaffection could still be heard, even against the rather loud chuffing out of the rotted exhaust, several blocks away.
I am not, alas, some juvenile nutter who goes around looking for trouble but our streets have become so full of senseless violence that I am forced to ride the XT in a most unseemly manner just to keep body and soul together. Walking anywhere is totally out of the question. Only a few days ago some moron lobbed a brick on top of my helmet as I was riding under a pedestrian bridge. I was a little dazed but so crazed by this act of vandalism that I pursued my assailant into a council estate. This was the kind of disgusting, disgraceful area where the police seldom put a foot. It was too full of drug riddled youths who would think nothing of throwing a human missile down on to the police from several storeys high.
In the confined space of the multi-storey concrete wasteland, the booming XT exhaust sounded like a platoon of tanks had arrived. I tested my off-road abilities to their limit as I rode the bucking Yam up some concrete steps, thence along a vandalised walkway. I was gaining nicely on the brick thrower, beginning to consider where I should hit him with the front wheel...
As the walkway came to an end everything suddenly went red. I launched the Yam right off the end of the elevated walkway, about ten feet above the harsh tarmac. I didn't know this at the time as I couldn't see anything out of my visor. | just had time to flip it up before the back wheel hit the ground. With only one hand momentarily on the bars to control the lurch, I thought I was going to come right off. A ten foot wall directly ahead suggested a painful finish to my motorcycling.
It says a lot about the controllability of the XT that I saved the day by finally getting both hands back on the bars and manipulating a back wheel skid that left me parallel to the wall, rather than going straight through it. The visor and my helmet were covered with red paint (or blood....) that some lunatic had chucked at me. I glanced up to see a bunch of youths frantically tearing off bits of building with the intention of using them as missiles.
Riding out of the estate, bike and I were hit by several bits of masonry but I held on until I was out of their sight. Used to be that trail bikes were a bit of a laugh on the street, but these days the combination of versatility, lightness, long travel suspension and gutsy engine are the only way to go if you want to survive in the more desperate areas of Great Blighty.
It's not just disaffected youths who pose a problem. Neglected road surfaces can quickly ruin the poise of even the most sophisticated street fighter, not to mention the back of anyone silly enough to hit a big pot-hole when in a racing crouch. I'm a bit on the short side so was thankful for the relatively civilised seat height. It wasn't low enough to let me safely start the bike whilst on the seat, I had to put it on the sidestand and use all my body weight on the kick start. Thus, stalling in traffic could be highly embarrassing but in the past six months it's only done it three times.
Starting is reliable but the lack of civilization is enough of a bane that I would seriously consider buying something I similar if it had an electric foot. And that's really the only major complaint against the Yamaha that I can think of. It proved ideal, for instance, in racing some derestricted 125s that my mates were stuck with because they couldn't afford to insure anything bigger.
The Avon Gripsters held the road as well as most road tyres (I would not know about expensive radials and the like), the light weight and wide bars meant it could be flicked with incredible speed and the torquey power unit didn't object when I exited bends in the wrong gear.
OK, top speed was only 95mph but I reckon a change in gearing would've allowed it to do more than the ton. And, ridden flat out the wheels bounced around on the long travel suspension but it never turned seriously barbaric. It always seemed to be just a question of keeping a firm grip on the bars and taking her over to outrageous angles of lean when the opportunity arose. Anyway, I usually managed to keep ahead of the brat pack.
The only problem with the width of the bars was, that given the narrowness of the DOHC engine, they would get in the way when I wanted to hustle in town. Several cages were rendered mirror-less but all their owners could do was sit in the traffic jam screaming abuse. I could take that, more or less, but when I whacked my own mirror against that of an on-coming Merc station wagon (he was on my side of the road and obviously should've been shot dead) I decided narrow bars were a necessity. I didn't want a repeat of the way the bars shook violently in my hands for the next 30 yards. I only saved myself by putting both feet down; if I hadn't been wearing moto-cross boots I would have broken both ankles!
The narrower bars made for heavier going through country corners, but the better aerodynamics gave an edge to the acceleration once above 75mph. As did fitting a proper mudguard instead of the stock one which threatened to pick up straying peds. These two very minor mods made the whole bike feel much more sporting.
It ruins any capabilities on the dirt but apart from a bit of madness on the council tip I'm not really interested in ending up covered head to toe in mud. The tip is a natural racing track for a few of us, but it was a bit disconcerting to find the place full of scavengers picking their way through discarded refuse. They looked like people out of Victorian times. The XT acquits itself well leaping over small hillocks and going into long back wheel slides.
Bored police occasionally come to observe our antics but have never tried to join in with their Metros. I think they were waiting for someone to fall off and break a leg; the only way they are likely to apprehend us. The XT has now done 13000 miles with no sign of falling apart. They seem generally robust, not needing much more than regular oil changes and the odd wash. If they have been used off road then the cosmetics rapidly decay and things like the mono-shock bearings require frequent rebuilds.
I'm tempted to go the whole hog with mine. Fit on a big tank, road tyres, take a few inches off the suspension and end up with a practical big thumper. I don't see why making it more practical should lessen the fun factor. It's a straightforward, simple little bike that's cheap to run, easy to maintain and immensely enjoyable for most of the time.
John