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The biggest problem with the secondhand market is down to half a decade of ever declining sales of new motorcycles. Even during this period, the used market was much more alive as the attractions of buying secondhand grew with each rise in prices of the new stuff and the predominance of the race replicas. Finally, belatedly, in 1993 new prices of useful machinery such as the NTV650, XJ600S and GPZ500S seemed to stabilize just as intolerable traffic jams drove the punters back to two wheels.
Sales of new machinery began to gain momentum again but no sooner did this happen than a round of price increases and/or a refusal to give the normal discounts sent new sales back into the dumps. Ever increasing numbers of people are chasing a fast decreasing number of good, used machinery.
It's not all bad. Technological advances mean that there are few recent machines that are real mechanical turkeys, that most bikes with less than 25000 miles on the clock can be bought privately without becoming too paranoid about their longevity or robustness. The Japanese continue to show their brilliance at making tough engines. At least as far as the four strokes go, the larger strokers, even with their watercooling and hi-tech induction and exhaust valves, continue in the dubious tradition that culminated in the Kawasaki triples of the mid seventies. There are many satisfied owners of fast and furious strokers but there have been so many tales of piston demise from these highly tuned motors that other than in the smaller capacities they will merit no mention in the following guide other than when they are much rebuilt relics from the seventies.
As exceptional as the Japanese are in producing tough engines, their interpretation of motorcycle design is often miles away from what the market really needs. Tyres that last less than 5000 miles, chains that barely see out the guarantee, brake pads and calipers that need attention in less than 7500 miles, fuel consumption that is utterly appalling and carbs that need balancing every 1000 miles (when they only really need to fit a single carb). Usually, when a bike is deemed fit for commuting use it is so utterly boring in looks and performance that there is no way it can be tolerated.
The virtues of old British twins, which can be summed up as being great fun to ride and very cheap to run, are entirely missing in the current crop of motorcycles. Even in the latest Triumphs, but they are very new and at least emphasize the wonders of torque rather than mindless power even if they are just as expensive to run, but we'll get to them in more detail later.
Anyone who has read the UMG for a while will know that the criteria on which the following machines are judged will be somewhat different to the absurdities by which the glossies measure motorcycles. Feel free to disagree with them, though, in the end choice of machinery is far too personal for anyone, even the editor of this august rag, to dictate. Commuters & Learners
Due to the 12hp limit on 125s, commuters and learners amount to the same thing. There are two distinct categories, the quickly self destruct race replicas, which cost an arm and a leg both to buy and to run, and the more mundane singles which just seem to gasp out the required 12hp. Of the race replicas, the TZR125 in naked form is the only one worth taking seriously, but is usually so thrashed that it doesn't quite make the grade, these days. In the secondhand market, the great virtue of the strokers, that they can easily be de-restricted to give twice their power, need not concern us, as 125s are easily bought and sold, usually with little loss and sometimes a marginal profit.
Yamaha's RD125LC merits more than a passing glance, though, as it’s just as strong as the four strokes in 12hp form and remains tough when power output is doubled. For under £500 one with a good motor but tacky chassis (they do rust) gives plenty of room for manoeuvre. Most are de-restricted now but engine rattles and gearbox demise are fairly obvious in these water-cooled singles. They go and handle well enough to make all but most wild and finicky Wop 125 reptile look plain silly.
Yamaha's RXS100 is much more commuter orientated and tuned engines stress both the chassis and motor. As a 12hp hack, though, it’s as fine and tough as most 125s on the market, with both simplicity and frugality in its favour. Ideal if you’ve never ridden a motorcycle before. Many examples are tuned and modded into 80mph hacks when edginess rather than niceness rules. £300 to £400 is all it takes to pick up a reasonable example on the private market.
Kawasaki’s KH125 is similar to the RXS but has slightly better build quality and engine longevity. Relatively small dimensions won't suit some but many have had a mild life in commuting hands and it’s quite easy to find one with 20000 miles worth of life left for less than £400.
Honda’s CG125 is, as ever, the embodiment of the commuter, its OHV engine in a class of its own. Massive abuse has been heaped on these bikes, even those models built in Brazil resisting self-destruct urges. Brilliant in town, open road use is limited by mediocre acceleration above 60mph and sometimes dizzy levels of vibration. A really nice one can be had for 500 notes, but runners (in the vaguest sense of the word) can be picked up for fifty quid and renovated cheaply.
Honda's CB125RS is a much more sporting single than the CG, relatively rare but worth chasing for its strong chassis and reasonable looks. The rarity of used spares means it makes more sense to buy a really good one for £600 to £700 than going the hack route.
Suzuki's GS125 has an even tougher four stroke motor than Honda’s commuting singles, low running costs and a nice chassis. A few minor exhaust and carb mods can liberate enough extra powerto push the bike past 75mph. The electric start version, with its uprated electrics, is the better bet. Expect to pay around £600 for a really good one.
In the 125 market it’s best to buy from a commuter rather than a learner, the latter tending to thrash and neglect. Almost every 125cc bike on the market with less than 15000 miles on the clock will have some useful life left. For serious motorcyclists locked into the category by insurance the RD125LC stands out as the exceptional machine with a naked TZR125 as second choice.
Minor Hacks & Serious Commuters
There is, within the 125 and 500cc band, a whole sub category of motorcycles that manage to mix cheapness, practicality and, yes, fun. This is where serious motorcycling begins with bikes able to keep up with the (slow lane) motorway traffic, yet still retain many of the virtues of the 125cc commuter. This is a mixed bag of machines that has its roots in the once massively popular 250cc category (before learners were restricted); when 350s and 400s were but bored versions of the 250 model. There are plenty of bikes that stand out from the crowd over the years, would if they were produced new today still be impressive (CB250K1, T200, YDS7, etc), but alas are now sidelined by age and rarity of spares.
Honda's CB500 four is the most elderly of this bunch, preferred over the more expensive CB400F which is too bland in stock state and too unreliable when tuned. The CB500's lack of immediate torque or power makes it a bike that takes a bit of time to appreciate but unlike the classic CB750K0 its weight is reasonable and its complexity moderate. Most will have dumped the mediocre suspension, which along with chassis bearing upgrades produces a neat enough handler, at least in the context of a 50hp machine that tops out at 110mph. Obscure ignition faults from duff coils may well present an opportunity of picking up a bargain, as it’s one of those transient faults that do a disappearing act when a mechanic approaches. Other maladies, both mechanical and chassis, are the usual age related hassles rather than any inherent weaknesses in the machine. One of the great unsung heroes of the seventies they can still be picked up in running order for around 500 notes on a good day, although a really nice one will fetch twice that. They may make classic status one day.
Honda’s XBR500 was a rather different attempt at producing the universal motorcycle. More than anything else it proved that the exigencies of producing a smooth 500cc single, with its obligatory balance shaft, left little by the way of exciting speed or even low end torque. The XBR even vibrates to an extent, although it is the kind of buzz that fades into the background with extended use and doesn’t really limit 80 to 90mph motorway cruising. The XBR’s appearance is its main attraction, though it does weave a useful blend of practicality and speed into the experience with a high degree of mechanical integrity for the first 40,000 miles. The front disc is the most dubious element in the machine and the willingness to cut out at junctions the most annoying. Enough were sold to keep the adulation of the classic mob at bay, between £500 and £1000 sufficient to buy a bolide with loads of useful life left.
Yamaha's XT350 is a rather more sensible implementation of the big thumper philosophy, it being long recognised (at least by the Editor and Ducati thumper fanatics) that after 350cc there is so much energy lost in absorbing the vibes that any extra power or torque theoretically possible rarely makes it to the tarmac. The XT350's major limitations are a result of its trail bike layout, which whilst fine in town (where long travel suspension is almost a necessity, these days) precludes comfortable 70mph cruising. Such, though, is the relative simplicity of the Yam that it’s quite easy to convert to road spec. Economy can be quite reasonable at 70mpg, whilst its mere 270Ibs means minimal consumable demise and quite reasonable urge up to 80mph. As a London hustler, for instance, the XT is cheap and immense fun. And for well under a grand a jolly nice one can be picked up (but check that it’s the 30hp version, though only a minor mod is needed to upgrade the 17hp model).
Suzuki’s SP400 is another much underrated trailster (along with the related SP370 and DR400). True, they didn’t have the toughest top ends in the world but they are easy to work on. The SP’s major attribute, together with its gutsy engine, is economy, which with a minor bit of exhaust and air filter dismembering, can reach as much as 80mpg. The same limitations as the XT exist on the open road but it's even easier to convert to road spec. Vibes are milder than on an XBR despite the lack of a balance shaft. The newer DR350 is also the business but lacks the frugality of the older bikes. Anyone with 300 notes to spare won't go far wrong by spending it on an SP.
Kawasaki's Z200 is yet another thumper, albeit a tiny one. There’s just enough life-force to make it into this category, though some thoroughly worn out example will find itself sidelined to the hard shoulder on the motorway. The plain engineering harks back to sixties Hondas which means reliability, frugality and simplicity. The Z250Ltd single is more (or less) of the same if you can take the mild custom stance. Like most singles they are not the most sophisticated devices in the world but to many tastes a bit of basic brutality is all to the good. The Z200’s much better than the CG125 yet almost as cheap to run. Figure to pay around £250 for a nice ’un.
Honda’s CD250U continues in the tradition of both the Z200 and a long line of single carb Honda twins that stretch back to the sixties. Any one of which could’ve been chosen but the CD250 actually embodies the best on the road experience of the whole bunch (with the possible exception of the first CD175 which will be too worn out by now). Just as the 200 Benly was better than the 185, the 250 marks another minor bit of evolution. Its only serious flaw, a very high new price, soon mitigated by depreciation. With hordes of old Superdreams on the road, used CD’s have no hope of fetching a high price in the private market.
The best thing that could be said about the CD250U on the road is that there are no nasty surprises and few newish machines can match its 80mph/70mpg, not so much a commendation of the Honda’s design but a condemnation of the way modern motorcycles have evolved. You might just pick up a rough one for £500 but £750 to £1000 is more likely to buy some serious motorcycling.
Honda's VT250 represents their most interesting 250 since the 68 CB250K1, a machine, incidentally, capable of cracking the ton on a good day. The VT, with its water-cooled V-twin mill, manages to rev high and knock out some useful low end torque. Of course, it does so via an extremely complex motor that’s a dead loss to try to rebuild but is quite reliable even when heavily thrashed - the problems are obvious enough to avoid. Lots of kicks for less than 500 notes.
Suzuki’s GS450E, like many of these bikes, has evolved over the years, in this case from the spectacularly bland GS400 DOHC vertical twin. Evolution basically means, as is too often the case, that the motor’s become more reliable, produces similar power but is less frugal. A damning case could be made against this bike on the grounds of lost opportunity but that doesn’t stop it being a best buy on the basis of cheapness, reliability and asane turn of speed. For sensible motorcycling you hardly need any more and need pay no more than a grand for a nice ‘un.
Honda’s CBX250RS was another, for Honda, fairly unique machine based on the extremely popular but mechanically short lived RS250. The DOHC thumper was both more powerful and longer lasting than the RS, in many ways the ultimate development of the single cylinder idiom. Relative rarity has not yet contributed to extravagant prices. £500 up.
Old Strokers
Old strokers like these never really die. At least parts of them don't. Either of these bikes, or their rarer forerunners, will by now be full of parts from several broker machines, as well as having fast wearing components rebuilt or upgraded. Modern metallurgy and knowledge should help their longevity or at least help counteract the influence of half-hearted mechanics and home rebuilds. Although the engines are basically simple they are not without their whims. In the late sixties and early seventies strokers were ever popular despite, perhaps because, of the layer of smoke they laid down.
Most wore out as fast as they went through consumables, the most notable being the H1 500 triple Kawasaki. A fearsome beast that combined the explosive power of a Jumbo jet with the quirky handling of an NSU Quickly. They are too overpriced to be considered here but there are two definitive survivors from that heady era.
Suzuki’s GT500 was one of those bikes that was as tough as it was bland. Jumping from a Bonnie to a GT, as one was wont to do in the early seventies, caught perfectly the shifting sands of motorcycle culture. The British twin was alive and rorty but unlikely to complete a 100 miles intact whilst the Japanese twin was smooth, civilised, reliable but completely remote from the essentials of motorcycling. That was then, these days both the effect of age and the relative sophistication of nineties’ motorcycles means that they are full of rough edges. Stock engines are preferred over any tuning attempts as they invariably result in a loss of longevity, which for the GT, and to a slightly lesser extent the sixties T500, is the main reason for taking a look at these ancient strokers. That and the fact that they have a reasonable combination of performance, economy and handling. The GT500 version is nowhere near chasing classic status, unlike the better looking and faster T500, as little as 200 notes buying something useable, although £500's a better bet if you want to really revel in the toughness of the motor.
Yamaha's RD400 represents the culmination of that company’s air-cooled stroker efforts, an altogether sportier device than the worthy GT500. The best way of checking its engine is to see if it'll still wheelie in the first three gears. The electronic ignition versions are supposed to be the best models; an accolade that doesn’t apply when the black boxes go up in smoke. The RD combines elements of the GT’s robustness with the H1’s madness in a package, were it not for its ultimate self-destruct nature, that ensures a riotous party. Such was the frenzy and ease of tuning that very few are left in standard condition. Some go for silly money but it’s still possible to buy a reasonable one for around £500.
UJMs
Since the late sixties the Japanese have defined the big motorcycle as the across the frame four. Although there was, and still is, a lot wrong with the use of such an engine in a motorcycle (weight, width, complexity, etc) the advantages of power, smoothness and reliability have swept most other alternatives aside. Love ‘em or hate them they will probably be around in another 25 years time.
Suzuki's GS550M Katana had stunning looks, a remarkably tough engine and safe if slow handling, which in the second hand market means a lot more than its stately acceleration, which it shares with the worthy if plain looking GS550. Both models defined the self-igniting electrics for which the GS and GSX series became so infamous. Most bikes will have minor mods to the suspension, different electrics and a 4-1 exhaust by now. Avoid big bore kits, open carbs and anything with more than 75000 miles on the clock (they are tough but not that tough). The GS550 is perhaps the definitive Japanese four and certainly worth buying if you can find a nice one for under a grand, although the high running costs should be borne in mind.
Suzuki's GSX550 never made the same visual impression as the Katana but was in reality more fun on the road. Four valves per cylinder and a much higher state of tune meant that it was never a boring bike to ride. The conservative geometry and excessive mass of the Kat had also been dumped, whilst fine on newish bikes could turn from mildly twitchy to wildly wobbly when the suspension or the linkages wore. The electrics were only slightly better than the GS, the finish poor and cylinder head rather less than robust once past 50000 miles or when run on ill-matched induction and exhaust systems. Thus, there are any number of well worn rats that can be cheaply renovated; a good one might cost a grand but a few hundred quid will acquire a worn but repairable example. One of the great unsung heroes.
Kawasakis GPz550 deservedly had the reputation as the performance 550. It was also, camchains and ignition units aside, tough, reasonably frugal and flash enough in looks to keep the insecure happy. Almost every owner thrashed the balls off the engine which makes it the most dubious buy secondhand amongst the 550s, although as it was the longest lived there are more low mileage examples around. Its combination of attributes, the sheer on the road fun, overcomes the reality of relatively high prices; it’s unlikely that any machine under a grand will have very much life left. On the other hand there are still some good motors in breakers for those who buy a rat and are not afraid of a bit of hard work. If you only intend to own one machine this is the kind of bike to go for.
Kawasaki’s GT550 uses a similar if de-tuned and less efficient engine to the GPz, coupled with a shaft drive, restrained styling and even gaitered forks and shocks. As hundreds of despatch riders have found out this is an eminently practical machines that can go around the clock more than once with only a few engine, electrical and chassis horrors en route. Such wanton abuse does mean that even one year old machines have to be viewed with suspicion because they might be high mileage despatch bikes - worn, faded tank and panel paint the most obvious sign of such abuse. There is nothing exceptional about the GT other than its practical virtues and the fact that very nice ones are available for under a grand - although with the hordes of DR’s desperate for good wheels you have to be fast on your feet to obtain the bargains.
Kawasaki's Z650 has both classic pretensions and the ability to run around the clock, although by the time 100000 miles is up the whole machine's in a pretty desperate condition and close to dying a death. Compared to the GPz550 it's heavy, slow and ponderous, but for sane riding it has a relatively relaxed feel reminiscent of sixties British bikes, who surely inspired the shape of its petrol tank. It’s the kind of motorcycle that inspires loyalty in its owner but getting a bit long in the tooth, these days. It’s just possible to buy a usable one for 500 notes.
Honda’s CBX750 makes the original CB750 seem like an overweight slug. No comparison, really. Well, OK, the original bike might just keep going for a few miles more if the handling doesn’t tip you off or the performance doesn't send you to sleep. The CBX’s major advantage over older fours is that they are much better value, lots more go for your bucks. At least up to 50000 miles when the engine becomes a little dodgy with valves and camchains the most likely to make a large dent in the wallet. Still, they are hard charging, whether on the motorway or back lanes without any of the excesses of the plastic fantastic replicas. Running costs are no more excessive than a hot 550 and with good bikes available for around the grand mark there are few cheaper ways of getting past 130mph!
Honda's CB750 retro has more in common with the CBX than the earlier CB750, using a de-tuned version of the former’s engine in a Nighthawk style chassis. In the overall scheme of things this is not a good motorcycle, not compensating for its lacks of power by being light in mass or frugal in nature. It’s a typical bit of retro style without the slightest hint of clever engineering, just another in a long line of Japanese fours that seem churned out by engineers with no experience of real life. Why bother with such a device? It's reasonably paced for UK roads, looks quite fine, has rock solid reliability and, above all else, a one year old machine can be had for as little as two grand. The CB750 defines the difference between the best motorcycle and the best buy!
Kawasaki's Z900 can't be ignored. Unfortunately, like the earlier Z1 (too extortionately priced to be of interest here), the handling, braking and riding position do make for some vile antics if the ample power is employed in anger. Fortunately, by the process of natural elimination, those bikes not much modified by now will have been written off. There’s a long list of necessary chassis upgrades deemed obligatory but even then, the notoriously weak frame will cause some wild and wacky wobbles when least expected. This is an expensive, albeit legal, way to play Russian Roulette but the sheer toughness and power of the engine makes the exercise in self destruction or highways kicks quite compelling. It's still possible to buy a nice 'un for less than 1500 sovs that can be run for year with only (high) consumable expenses and then flogged off at a small profit. That’s as long as you don't fall off or become totally enamoured of its butch looks.
Yamaha's XJ900 couldn't be more different in character to the Z900, although its superior chassis allows it to be ridden faster than the Kawasaki even if it feels a little boring by comparison. Neither is the engine likely to make it around the clock with the same ease as the Z. But up to 50000 miles the engine's rock solid and the chassis nicely sorted in later models (the earlier ones were nearly as bad as a Z1). Their mundane looks and lack of street credibility means even recent ones are dirt cheap; lots of kicks for as little as a thousand notes can't be bad.
Kawasaki's Z1000 shares the virtues of the 900’s tough motor with improved frame and steering geometry. Along with much modded suspension, the various guises under which the 1000 appeared still make it as a useful high speed missile, even if a hard ridden 600 plastic reptile will burn it off in no uncertain terms. The odd rat still turns up for as little as five hundred notes but the good ones go for two to four times that. Not the greatest bargain in the world, then, but that tough old motor can take so much abuse that Z1000’s can't easily be dismissed.
Yamaha's FJ1200 is the ultimate muscle bike in this category with sure-footed, safe handling and an excess of both power and torque. It tears through consumables, though, and looks rather too similar to the plastic fantastic crowd to quite make it with the retro mob, although it’s undoubtedly much more useful at speed than any of the retros. Two grand for this kind of muscle and competence has to be a bargain.
Watercooled Fours
High technology shouldn't be bad news when it’s properly designed. Usually, though, the Japanese insist on wrapping it up in either race replica nonsense or some grotesquely overweight interpretation of a retro or tourer. The market rules, though, and quite a few replicas have been stripped of their plastic (maybe after a crash) and fitted with proper handlebars. All of these replicas are expensive to run with echoes of seventies superbikes in their handling when ridden on cheap or worn tyres. You have been warned.
Honda’s CBR600 is the market leader and the most radical of these bikes with its integrated styling. Honda invented the across the frame four in the late sixties and redefined it with the CBR600. The newer the model the faster and more robust the bike, though any one has plenty of life left up to 50000 miles. It is a revvy engine that needs a lot of work on the far from perfect gearbox, so ultimately may not be to some tastes. Prices go down to £1500 but around £2500 is needed to ensure that it’s a nice ‘un that hasn't been thrashed around the race track.
Yamaha’s FZR600 has a sportier edge than the CBR and an even tougher engine, though high mileage or abuse ruins the gearbox and clutch. It’s relatively easy to dump the absurd plastic, losing even more mass from the already light chassis. Comfort, with the stock riding position and seat, limits its touring ability, as do high levels of secondary vibes on some examples. One point to be wary of is that the engine will run well right up to the point of failure; it’s relatively easy to pay loads of dosh for a bike with a motor that’s about to blow up. £1500 up can buy something usable.
Yamaha's FZ750 has mostly been overshadowed by the FZR600 and 1000. In many ways it combines the best elements of the two, comes close to being one of the most versatile bikes on the market. Quite a few have gone around the clock. An 150mph bike for as little as £1250 can't be a bad crack!
Kawasaki's GPZ900 was quite radical in its day, elements of its design turning up in the new Triumphs. On any sane account it’s still one hell of a motorcycle but, these days, that’s not enough to make the grade. Throw in an engine that could either make it around the clock without any trouble or give manifold engine problems before 25000 miles were done, to make this the kind of buy that needs an experienced eye. With good bikes available for as little as two grand, though, it’s worth the effort!
Yamaha’s FZR1000 defines the big bike replica market, its only rival the even more horny GSXR1100. Comfort is the only area likely to be found wanting, but that’s even more true of the GSXR. Ruinous consumable expense, horrendous insurance costs and spine wrecking lack of comfort have to be put against mind warping performance and competent handling (it’s a bit too heavy to justify better praise than that, though hundreds of comic hacks will write it’s a brilliant handling bike for its mass but so what?). The EXUP model's quantitatively better than early versions, which means the latter are available at reasonable prices; £2000 to £2500 will pick up something that’s still running.
Kawasaki's ZX-10, were it not for devices like FZR’s and GSXR’s, would be regarded as a fine motorcycle instead of already being considered out of the game. For UK roads it’s easily fast enough, though wet weather work needs the same kind of care as walking through a pit of vipers. Consequently, there are good engines available in breakers and care in checking over the chassis should be taken. As little as £1500 will secure a reasonable one.
Suzuki’s GSXR1100 has wild acceleration and rather odd handling, though the latest model with upside-down forks and revised geometry’s just about safe. Quite a few crashed bikes turn up without the plastic and look all the better for it. Lack of comfort, vibration and Z1 type speed wobbles on worn tyres all add up to lots of hassle but the pain is limited by the fact that most owners lose their licence after a mere six months of indecent speeding! You'll have to pay three grand to buy a good one, although quite a few high mileage rats are on offer around the £2000 mark.
European Heroes
Italian, German, British and even Iron Curtain bikes all have their (usually fervent) advocates. Too many bikes need too much effort, even full rebuilds, before they become usable. Old British twins have become far too expensive, as well as worn out, to be of any interest here. Most Iron Curtain hacks are too diabolical to contemplate even if they are free! Almost any BMW can be used hard even after high mileages but only a couple stand out from the crowd. Most of these bikes, in their various ways, are an acquired taste.
MZ’s 250, in its various models and guises, has always stood out as the exceptional Iron Curtain hack, although now that East Germany is no more it'll end up losing its cheap price. Handling and performance are more than adequate in this category but the two stroke motor is something of an acquired taste. For a couple of hundred quid there are few better bargains. Buy a couple of old ones for spares.
Jawa’s 500, using the 350 twin’s chassis to house a Rotax engine, looks so horrible that it's easy to dismiss. But the frame and suspension are adequate, the engine tough and the performance just acceptable; there’s a good bike hidden in there somewhere. At under 500 notes for a nice example it's worth taking the trouble to sort out the cycle parts.
Laverda’s 750SF is one of the few seventies Wops that is truly tough, capable of going around the clock with little more than regular maintenance. For a big vertical twin lacking balancers they are quite smooth, having an excessive amount of mass to soak up the vibes. They are rare in the UK and often priced very high, but the odd one turns up for around £1500 and are cheaper still on the continent.
Ducati’s 750SS shows the progress that modern Italian bikes have made, with a lovely V-twin motor and excellent handling from the lightweight chassis. Clutch apart, most of the dubious Italian engineering has been designed out. The 900 version is even better but the smaller bike is available for as little as 3000 notes. A lot of joy for your money.
BMW's K75 is the best of the modern bricks. The tough, torque filled engine is much more impressive than the chassis that needs its suspension upgraded. The most useful version has the old boxer RS fairing fitted as an aftermarket accessory. Longevity's its major advantage, so it’s still worth buying an early one for around £1750.
BMW's R80/7 shares the K75’s longevity but doesn’t have the vicious vibes or wild wobbles of the R100 series. It’s just fast enough to cope with serious speeding, especially when fitted with the RS fairing. The build quality is almost up to the myths and prices have been stable, or rising slightly over the past few years. Of course, the gearbox and shaft drive reaction do act as an anti-theft device. Around a thousand notes will buy something good.
Triumph’s 900 Trident has a better (brilliant, in fact) motor than chassis, being a little dated in design, although the elements all work well together in a manner reminiscent of BMW's better efforts. It's British without any of the normal self-destructive urges and that alone is reason enough to buy if you get caught up in a patriotic fervour. The 750’s significantly cheaper but the 900’s engine is so compulsive that it’s worth paying the extra dosh — as little as £3500 will secure a jolly nice ‘un.
Moto Guzzi’s Mille sneaks in on cheapness and oddity value, the big vee twin motor sufficiently lowly tuned to go the distance. It’s a friendly, laid back kind of trip that appeals to graduates of British twins and the like. Any of the big Guzzi's have an appeal but few others are as cheap as nearly new Mille’s at £2500 to £3000.
Odd Trips
Some bikes combine elements of design that make them fun to ride and cheap(ish) to run but don't readily fit into any category.
Suzuki’s GSF400 is a high revving water-cooled four which looks as much fun as it is to ride, although after a while the constant gearbox hustling becomes very tiring. With a typically tough motor that can be thrashed without blowing up and a two grand price tag for something a year old with less than ten thousand miles on the clock it’s worth a look but beware of examples that have been despatched.
Honda’s VT500 is another bike popular with despatch riders, being tougher than most, combining minimal mass with acceptable performance. A large number have gone around the clock but there are still examples with less than 20000 miles up, which at around £750 have to be worth a look.
Kawasaki’ GPz500S has long been the best selling vertical twin, with its heavy performance and light weight allowing it to burn off much bigger bikes when some curves are involved, though not on suspension that has done high mileages. Similarly, two up riding is rather less fun than it should be but modifying the suspension is a relatively simple task. A dodgy sixteen inch front wheel, especially when shod with OE tyres, leads to an excess of low mileage engines in breakers from written off examples whilst the finish goes off after three years. That means a tatty old job can be bought for around a grand, tidied up and ridden until the engine blows, then a newish motor fitted in. There is some room to make a profit out of the experience.
Honda’s NTV600 shares much of the VT’s engine but has a high tech chassis that is much superior to the GPz, and a finish that belies the low cost of secondhand examples. Again, they are popular with despatchers so there are some real rats around. But a nice combination of quality and performance, for £1250 up.
Yamaha's XS650 is very rarely found in nice, stock condition, these days, but anyone interested in big twins should take a look. Suspension mods should be welcomed as standard handling, even new, could turn traumatic. The engine is a very tough unit that will go to 75000 miles without exploding. Some amusing chopped versions around if you really want to scare yourself silly. £750 up.
Suzuki’s LS650 more radical chop form will put many a punter right off, but the thumper engine is so full of torque that it’s worthy of note. At least the chassis means no-one’s going to dare to thrash them. If you can take the style then it’s a grand well spent for an early model.
Suzuki’s VX800 is an even stranger device than the LS but somewhere within its vee twin format there’s a proper motorcycle trying to get out. They are so disliked in the UK that for around two grand a really excellent one can be picked up and abused to your heart’s content.
End Notes: Some of the above choices will be controversial, and depending on the area where you live in the UK may not turn out to be much of a bargain. Regular readers of the UMG will also know that many a bike slagged off in the Used Guide is reported as giving excellent service by suitably outraged or merely confused contributors. Almost any bike can be turned into something useful given a bit of dosh and ingenuity; there are always exceptions that disprove anything I might venture to write. If there weren't it'd be a rather boring world.
It all started in 1983, as an overweight seventeen year old's wish not to have to pedal around on a push-bike any longer. A car was out of the question as it needed a supervisor until the test was passed and there was no hanging around for this lad, no way. After much pressure on the parents, a loan was secured. However, a real motorcycle seemed too frightening to contemplate - not to the prospective rider, oh no, but to the holder of the wedge.
A compromise had to be reached and I was soon to be the somewhat proud owner of a brand new Yamaha V80 two-stroke step-thru. It was delivered to the training centre where I weaved my way around the cones and slowly got the hang of the thing. The sun was shining so my adolescent despair at owning a grandfather motorcycle was a little deadened, but not by enough.
It was good on petrol, about 80mpg but embarrassingly slow, about 55mph absolute maximum. It went through plugs in about 1000 miles and was a sod to start on cold, damp mornings. Living near the sea does take its toll on metal but rust became a problem in less than two months, which did not impress.
It did get me from Brighton to Bournemouth and back, about 220 miles round trip. A terrifying experience, never to be repeated, especially at night, when the single candlepower front bulb made little attempt to light the road ahead. It once carried eight pissed up people around in circles on the edge of a farm entrance at an unofficial festival. We were all hanging on for dear life, but also under the watchful eye of the local law. Once said policeman was seen, the inevitable panic rapidly set in and we all fell off much to his amusement.
A car was bought once I’d passed my test. Let's just say that a Vauxhall Viva is a most horrible thing. I hated the frustrations of traffic jams and to save an early stress related death I sold the car and bought a Suzuki GSX400T custom, with additional Sidewinder and L-plates. Heaven, a real motorcycle at last. Well, it felt like that anyway, until the interesting handling made me fall off on a treacherous bend, straight across a pub car park into the doorway. The landlord was very understanding, made me a cup of tea and phoned for an ambulance. This was while working as a DR in Brighton, covering local jobs plus odds and sods.
I passed my test. Before leaving the test centre I took off the totally wrecked tea-trolley and chucked it in the nearest skip. Now I was ready for the real world of long distance riding; motorways here I come. Not ever on 400 custom again. Never, never, never. Also, don’t go two-up touring on one unless you're extremely religious and feel that we are already in purgatory. This was exacerbated by the excess weight of the rider in question, a mere eighteen stone without clothes. The resultant thrashing the poor thing got caused the Suzuki Cheese Valve System to bury the valves deep in the head and kill the engine. Don’t think about one of these unless you are really desperate. A cylinder head was bought from a nearby breakers and it was running once again. Time to change.
A new job for a different courier company meant a CX500 was loaned me with the option to buy with a change in the rate of pay to compensate. It had the rather undesirable addition of a bulbous, massive GRP handlebar fairing plus the largest set of Krauser panniers and top box. A naturally top heavy bike with an increased centre of gravity made for extra hairy handling until one day I had an accident. An old woman decided that today she would meet her maker, stepped back from the white line in the middle of the road and stared at me. I slowed down and moved away from her but carried on moving. Then she thought she had developed superhuman powers and made a break for it. I swerved and caught her with the panniers.
She hit the deck and so did I. But she didn’t have this CX crashing down on to her with the left cylinder trying to embed itself in her rib cage. Oh no, but about 20 people crowded around her and only one person came to my aid, he could hardly pull the thing off me and had to shout for help. The bike was towed away by our company van and | was taken to the hospital with a fractured arm and a couple of broken ribs. The old lady had minor bruising and a broken finger. Whilst recovering I received bills for the two ambulances and had to pay for the damage to the CX, which I was in the process of buying. The bike was put back together and traded for my very first taste of universal Japanese motorcycling, a brand new Kawasaki GT750.
As I rode this away from the dealers I indicated left but had one indicator on each side flashing! I decided to fix this myself as the competence of the dealer was in doubt after the PDI. Despite that, the bike was a gem, the ultimate middle to long distance despatcher. Parts were easy to get, the valves seemed to stay in adjustment for ever, so the average service was plugs, oil, etc.
Then I left home and financial pressure took over, along with the curious desire to build a GS chop in my new shared bedroom. My room-mate was a very understanding chap but after grazing his shin on the edges of the frame for the sixth time in two days, he decided to get his revenge by buying an X5 Suzuki. This was ridden up the stairs and into the room but the staircase couldn't take the load and as we descended to try to appease the landlord who was working in the basement, the landing gave way and we ended up crashing down a level with the staircase and bannisters breaking up around us.
Whilst building the chop I had enough spare money to buy a 1978 Honda XL500 complete with Red Rocket engine kit and stainless silencer. It spat fire from the baffle-less tail-pipe and would pull wheelies in the first four gears. Great fun. I just started to get used to the kickstart, when a curious starting problem led to some very loud swearing and sore right shin. The kill-switch was completely rusted up but some switch cleaner sorted the problem. The local constabulary did not share my love of the open pipe and soon charged me. The bike was sold on and I hastily changed addresses.
A Yamaha TR1 entered my life. What a bastard of a pile of junk. It didn’t handle, didn't charge its battery - blown black box, £125 to you squire from a breaker - it blew head gaskets every 1000 miles and was soon got rid of for some cash and a five year old Honda CB400N. There's not a lot to say about Superdreams that hasn't been said already.
Three months later a trip to the local Honda/Yamaha dealers saw me looking at an XBR500 parked next to a Yamaha SRX600. The Yam won hands down. A lot less plastic, just seemed to ooze style and character that the Honda just didn’t possess. I kept the SRX for 18 months. It was the total embodiment of the motorcycle experience for me. A light, brisk bike that handled and stopped quite well. It did about 40mpg on a cruise and 32mpg on a thrash.
A steering damper is a good idea if you're under 13 stone as it can shake its head at 90mph plus I, by then, had lost a lot of weight and was approaching this size, but didn’t have that problem. A friend with one did, the tank-slapper broke his wrists and high-sided him at 95mph. He's recovered from his injuries and owns a GT750. I don’t know what all the fuss about starting the SRX is down to, I got the hang of it very quickly and it just didn’t seem a problem. A bloody good bike, buy one if you have the chance.
The only handling deficiency that I experienced was when a half asleep commuter in his Mazda decided to ignore the rules of the Queen’s highway and pull across me on a fast 60mph section of A-road. The collision cracked the front wheel, bent the forks and tank. The frame was in good shape as was the rest of the bike, so it wasn’t written off. My kneecap was, though, and so was his car and licence (he still being pissed from a booze up the previous night). Parts had to be ordered from Europe to fix the SRX, so next came a brief spell with a shagged Z550. This affair lasted 50 miles, the dealer had supplied the bike with a chain that was two links short and over tight. The chain soon snapped and took the front sprocket to be its final burial place, along with parts of the crankcase and gearbox. It ended up wrapped around the crank, a write off.
The SRX was soon returned, kept for another six months of trouble free ownership. Then the need for change set in. I'd been delivering photos for a large professional lab, enabling me to use the company bikes, a CX500 and VT500. Both were properly serviced and well looked after. The CX was a lot less cumbersome than the one I had previously owned, due to smaller panniers and lack of fairing. It was a real gem, even with 140000 miles on the original bores (it drank oil alarmingly quickly) but never broke down and always started. The VT was almost new, had big Krausers and top box with a full fairing. Nice, just about sums it up.
My SRX was exchanged for a Kawa GT750 with 19 thou on the clock. It was a gold Mark One with a shagged, original exhaust system. In the space of a week a lorry driver had driven over it whilst it was parked in a motorcycle bay. He then drove off as if nothing had happened. The guy in the car behind him left a note stuffed between my seat and tank with all the details. He was the manager of a local motorcycle fairing company and was willing to be a witness in court. Needless to say, I have been a happy customer of theirs on a couple of occasions since.
After about six months the court case came up and the haulier’s insurers were forced to admit liability and cough up the necessary dough to subdue my wrath. The driver was found guilty of driving without due care and attention, leaving the scene, hit and run and failure to stop after an accident. To my extreme gratification the driver got a six month ban and a very heavy fine. I smiled and almost went to church to thank God, who was evidently looking after me.
The bike was badly damaged, new front end, crankcase, headlight, tank, mirrors and grips. The GT changed colour, courtesy of Dream Machine, to deep black with gold pinstripes. A Motad 4-1 replaced the rotted original system and the bike was back on the toad. Redundancy followed, three months later the bike had to go. About a 1000 miles after it went it seized solid at 70mph but luckily the rider was quick on the clutch and prevented a nasty spill.
Then, the rot really set in, a Sanglas 500. It was hideous, it made a noise like a rotary cultivator and moved at about the same pace. It had an electric start from a Fiat 500, an alternator from a 2CV and a battery from a Sherman tank to spin the long stroke thumper into life. Starting was fun. Tickle the Amal carb, pull in the decompressor lever and spin the motor for about five seconds then let go of the lever. The whole noisy and excessive cacophony of explosions that followed were an indication that the ignition was working, although the timing was anybody's guess. It would then settle into a gently rising and falling tick over.
!t had Marzocchi forks and Brembo brakes with Veglia (your guess is as good as mine) waving needle clocks. The ride quality was that of a badly built hard-tail chop mixed with a seat that felt like the edge of a garden fence. It would not do any more than 50mph, even downhill. A horrid creation, but I suppose it does come from a place where fighting bulls is a way of life, and the vibration’s effect on the handling was like a bull fight.
Along came a gullible collector who wanted the Sanglas for reasons other than riding. He went away happy and I bought an SR500. This was nice for a while, it had been modded to TT600 spec and went like a rocket. The megaphone sounded like a naval barrage of heavy cannon fire and became an instant hit with my neighbours and the local police, who had stated that they could hear me driving around the outskirts of the town and then towards them, all they had to do was wait for my arrival. A friend confirmed that he could usually hear me coming about five minutes before I arrived. It died about 80 miles from home, was towed back by the AA. A rebuild at vast expense was needed so the bike was sold to a friend who had a strange need to own the thing. No accounting for some people.
I stayed off bikes for a couple of years after that, but soon had to get another one to stop myself going insane. My mate who bought an SRX at the same time as me was selling his, so I bought it after a quick rebuild. Beautiful, especially with the Supertrapp exhaust’s deep thundering tone and a few more horses. Again, redundancy and financial pressures forced me to part with it when I really didn’t want to. Seems to happen every time I get a good bike.
After six months I had enough money to buy another hack, a 1978 CB400N with kickstart. It did well, lasting almost a year with a distinct lack of maintenance. It died recently and is scrapped. Today, I have a 1985 MZ 250ETZ. Nearly the cause of me wanting to emigrate when I saw the reactions of some of my friends. Little do they know that this disaster in styling hides an extremely competent, rugged and cheap to run bike that will have me laughing all the way to the bank when it comes to spares’ costs and availability. A bike that is really easy to work on and even has almost all the tools you need to do any job on the machine. It actually handles quite well and is OK for country and town work, but forget long stretches of dual carriageway or motorway. The MZ will probably be with me for quite a while, it’s extremely good value for money.
Licensing laws in Japan means that 250s are immensely popular, much as they used to be in the UK before the 125cc limit was introduced, although the Japanese concentrate on new bikes rather than the hordes of old hacks in the UK. The Honda Jade is just one of many 250 watercooled DOHC fours on the market, but to my eye the best looking of the competitive bunch.
UK readers will recognise it as a miniature CB1000, although the 250 has been out for a couple of years, so the CB1000 is really a giant Jade. Retros are the current theme in Japan, appealing to both experienced riders and half cut youths. Race replicas become very tiring in Tokyo traffic jams. The styling theme on the Jade is along Nighthawk lines, albeit with a sensible riding position, that made me feel instantly at home. When I say Nighthawk lines I have to add that the Japanese have gone some way beyond the older bike’s bland styling.
Its compact form is rather more suitable for Japanese frames than very obese Westerners. At 5'10” it was just within acceptable limits, had I been much bigger I would have ended up looking very stupid rather than cutting a svelte dash. One of the strangest things about the Japanese is that the men look so awful and the women mind blowingly beautiful. It was dead easy to be distracted by some nubile whilst attacking Tokyo traffic. Very dangerous.
Hustling the Honda into Tokyo’s congested streets - where car drivers pay as much for parking spaces as they do for petrol, and where there are still a lot of small commuters, with single seats and huge racks, used as working bikes because they are the only vehicles that can get across town rapidly - the engine seemed busy but gutless, whilst the 325lbs was easily slipped between gaps in traffic. I don’t know which was most impressive from Honda, producing a 325lb 250 or 420Ib 900 four. Motorcycle design is tearing ahead, but it had to be said that any lighter would lose the point as the bike will get knocked around too much by road bumps and sidewinds, especially when there's an expanse of plastic to catch the wind.
For the first couple of days I never even got the engine out of third, first and second were mostly employed in the snarled up traffic mess. There just didn’t seem to be any point in struggling with taller gears. The Jade has a motor that runs, amazingly enough, from 1500 to 15000rpm without a glitch but only really comes on heavy with the power once past 10000rpm.
A sense of urgency occurs a couple of thousand revs below that but it doesn't translate into much acceleration, making second or third ideal for the fast pace necessary to take the small gaps in traffic that emerged out of the chaos. Honda claim 40 horses at 14000rpm and, more revealing, maximum torque is developed at 11000rpm! Think about that, a decade ago 11000 revs would blow up most motors on the market, now it’s the starting point on many bikes for power to go berserk. It's the way four strokes keep ahead of the wailing strokers, the latter with their compromised lubrication unable to match such dizzy levels of engine revolutions.
It wasn't until the weekend that I could really explore the parameters of the Honda, having to unfortunately earn a crust (rather a large one actually) during the week. Sticking the frailest of Japanese girls on the pillion perch had a noticeable effect on acceleration but didn’t seem to faze the chassis, which apart from a mono-shock rear end was surprisingly. conventional. I always had the feeling that it was up to twice the power the Honda could put out, which is exactly the reverse of the situation in the good old seventies when hardly any superbike had a barely adequate chassis.
The widely splayed double cradle tubular frame looked like a poor relic from a GS550 but was undoubtedly stiff. The sloping seat and high pillion pegs pushed the nubile into a deliciously intimate embrace with myself, bringing forth a grin that lasted the whole weekend. Anyone who has ever had sexual relations with a Japanese woman will never be able to go back to Western girls, their sensational sensuality explaining the crazed arrogance of the average Japanese male.
I had found the riding position perfectly acceptable for town riding and was relieved to find it just as agreeable as we screamed out of Tokyo on the expressway that was busy enough to require utmost concentration as I weaved the Honda through the traffic at 70 to 90mph. Traffic speed seemed half of my own, which made me stick out like a sore thumb amidst the Japanese who were remarkably restrained behind the wheels of their gleaming autos. The kind of pressure they were under (unbelievable working hours, incredible mortgages and a population density that was terrifying) I had expected them all to be mad buggers.
The seat, though both narrow and firm, proved well shaped and comfortable for a couple of hundred miles a day. The riding position was strangely reminiscent of a Honda CB400 four I used to own, although every other aspect of the Jade was miles ahead of that blandest of bland bikes.
The front forks seemed particularly fine, giving the bike unusual directional accuracy and stability, whilst the minimal mass made it easy to chuck around. They had a suppleness of action that I had not experienced before, more I suspect because it was unusual to fit such quality units to such a small bike, where they were not highly stressed. Mind, Japanese roads are of a higher standard than UK ones, with an excellent smoothness that is only imitated by a newly laid British motorway for the first few hours of its existence. Even ribbons of mismatched concrete failed to set up any nasty pattering.
The rear shock was marginal even when fully turned up, two-up, but never really let loose. Solo, it didn’t intrude to the same extent, but Honda are a bit notorious for fitting dubious rear shocks that need replacing by the time the guarantee runs out, probably keeping up that tradition with the Jade. Not a difficult item to uprate.
As the traffic cleared, I was able to scream the motor up to the ton without any problems, any secondary vibes that the mill might've produced absorbed by the tubular frame before they had a chance to affect bars or pegs. With such tiny pistons, even at its incredible revs, there was so little reciprocating mass that, given Honda’s artistry on the CAD screen, it was no surprise that it was an order of magnitude smoother than even a brand new Honda CB400/4. Indeed, perhaps the most impressive trait was the silky smoothness of the engine, which revved with electric alacrity and gave off the impression that here was a motorcycle of exceptional build quality, something echoed by the overall feel of the ride and the sheer buzz of pushing it hard.
The nature of the Japanese motorcycle market means that the punters expect a bike to run faultlessly for a year or two when it is then thrown away, replaced by the latest bit of trendy engineering; motors are lucky to get any more attention than the odd oil change, so have to be built along indestructible lines just to get a toe-hold in the market. The Honda Jade had that bullet-proof feel that all good engines give off.
It even persisted as I revved out in fourth, fifth and finally sixth; enough to pull off a 120mph excursion before thoughts of being locked away in a Japanese jail for the rest of my life intruded. The Japanese legal system is so nasty that even the police are reluctant to arrest minor offenders, because once put in jail it's almost impossible to convince the judiciary that you're innocent. Neither are the police easily bribeable, unlike most Asian countries, at least not for the kind of dosh I’m able to raise.
The frail was squeezing the breath out of me in a most amusing way, although the chassis remained rock solid in its stability; she later revealed that the slipstream was buffeting her lid about to the extent that the strap had chaffed her throat. This probably wouldn't be a problem for the average biker’s moll, with skin as coarse as a gorilla’s but for the silky skin of a Japanese girl abrasions come very easily.
Playing silly buggers on the gearbox could've become tiresome but the change was as slick as any I've come across and the snarl out of the 4-1 exhaust, come 12000rpm, was always so delicious that I never became pissed off with the revvy nature of the beast. Even when just fired up from cold it was uncannily civilised at low revs if utterly lacking in useful power and torque. Cold English winter mornings might give the mill a harder time, but electronics and engines have become so sophisticated that I rather doubt this. The only problem with such advances, that it’s far too complex to fix when it eventually goes wrong.
It was a bit of a giant slayer, too. Or perhaps it was just that the Japanese riders were so sane and sensible that they could not comprehend my wild riding antics. I didn't come across any of the Speed Tribes who are such mad nutters that even I would not try to race them. Whatever, the few race replica 400s that I found were soon dispatched, even if I had to ride on the wrong side of the road a couple of times and actually caused the single front disc to shake the forks in the yokes.
The front brake always packed a punch but the rear was so insensitive as to be useless. A drum would've looked much neater and worked better. I wouldn't put a drum on the front, though, modern discs have advanced to the stage where they are vastly more powerful than the best drums and much more sensitive even in the wet (when properly designed).
The only thing to let the chassis down was the rubber (Japanese condoms have an equally poor reputation). Fine in the dry they became nasty in the wet, Tokyo roads being especially slippery after a tropical storm. I didn’t actually fall off but frequently had to put two feet down to stop the bike falling off the edges of the rubber as they skittered over the tarmac. Had it been a heavyweight four I’d have ended up with a broken leg. I couldn't find any Avons, which is typical of the progress British companies have made here even with world class products.
The lack of mass and smooth power delivery meant that chain adjustments were minimal and tyres didn’t seem to wear out, although with 11000 miles done the front brake pads were about due for replacement, more down to my wild riding antics than any particular fault with their design. Fuel ran through the motor at 45 to 60mpg, so the Jade could pass muster as an economical means of transport. It's unlikely that anyone would bother checking its 16 valves and the carbs stayed in balance during the 2700 miles I've done so far. Somehow, Japanese engineering has advanced to the stage where even massive neglect fails to ruin a motor.
After just a couple of hundred miles, riding the Jade became second nature, instinctive, as if it had become an extension of my body and mind. Riding at ten-tenths on many bikes is a quick way to an early grave but this Honda is so responsive to my needs that it now seems the only way to hustle a path through the chaotic traffic. It is, mercifully, not an easy bike to wheelie, had it been I'd probably have tempted fate excessively and ended up a hospital case. Not a good idea when you don’t have any medical insurance, and the Japanese idea of tolerable pain levels would have me screaming my head off in total, far gone agony!
Prices for used ones are absurdly low, even with the sky high Yen. I reckon a near perfect Jade with less than 10000 miles on the clock could be got into the UK for £1500 to £1750 including shipping and taxes. Engine spares would be a problem but it should run for 40 to 50000 miles before needing any attention. I don’t know if the grey importers in the UK have started to bring them in yet, but they seem too good a deal to miss out on.
In many ways the Jade is a bit of an oddity. In most respects it’s an utterly sensible motorcycle, but one fitted with an engine that only knows one, fun filled, way to deliver its power. This may not be to everyone’s taste but a day’s worth of riding would probably convert everyone to the Jade’s way of doing things!
I've owned no less than three of these fine machines, the latest sitting in my garage with a mere 15000 miles on the clock. The most obvious attraction, the stunning power to weight ratio (90hp/395lbs), which together with its excellent Deltabox frame makes it an immensely fun machine to ride on the toad. That's why I keep coming back for more and more of the same!
The engine is almost brilliant, only let down at high mileages by a weak clutch and dodgy gearbox. The five valve heads are amazing, I've done over 50000 miles on an engine without having to touch them, even the camchain and tensioner can go for similar mileages without producing an excess of rattles.
The clutch is the weak spot, quite mild abuse, as in a 100 yard wheelie, can cause it to slip at high revs. It's very light in action, after about 20,000 miles becomes jerky and vicious as the drum wears out. I had one pattern set of plates go in 8000 miles, had to crawl home eighty miles at 30mph and 6000rpm in top gear. The problem is so common that few clutch bits are available from breakers.
The quality of the gearbox has varied quite greatly from both model to model and according to the age of the engine. The action is light, quick, fairly precise under acceleration but otherwise vague, lacking in feel. Often it's possible to become lost in the box, ending up a gear further up or down the range than required. This all becomes much worse with high miles, as the selectors wear out.
I had one box lock up solid, admittedly on a 123000 mile engine. It jammed in fourth gear, which whilst the torque and power were able to cope above 25mph meant that slow town work and take-offs became a fast way to burn out the clutch. I had no intention of rebuilding the gearbox so rode it like that until a newer motor turned up at the breakers.
High miles, meaning over 80000 miles for these stalwart motors, also burnt out the electric starter, the ignition pick-up and the alternator (all three replaced with used bits, so the problem couldn't be that common). One engine out of a racer, developing about 110hp, with lots of tuning goodies and an awful wail out of the 4-1, only lasted for 8000 miles in my tender hands.
The piston rings disintegrated, flowing around the engine, leaving a trail of carnage that I could dine out on for months afterwards. There wasn't much left and I was forced to fit in the high mileage engine that had preceded it, which rattled and smoked but proved ever durable. The rumour about the FZR series doing the rounds at one time was that if the punter could compare the craft in their internals with rivals then everyone would buy the ultra tough Yamahas.
The most I got out of a basically stock FZR was 141000 miles (on original pistons, bores, crank, cams, valves but not gearbox selectors, clutch and tensioner). I'd bought that bike off a friend who'd done 98000 miles and assumed that the motor was due for retirement (being more used to CB Honda fours) and kept cursing his ill judgement as | piled up the miles over the next three years. The most amazing thing about that motor was that it'd still put 140mph on the clock!
A word about camchains is in order, here. One friend put in the cheaper variety with a split link which 4500 miles down the line fell apart, causing the valves to do an interesting reconstruction job on the pistons. I've always found that it pays to fit original Yamaha bits as the engine is so highly stressed that pattern items invariably cause a weak link that causes the whole motor to tear itself apart. Camchains seem to go for 50 to 75000 miles, depending on the kind of abuse the motor has taken and how worn the tensioner (a much easier bit to replace) has become.
I do my oil changes every 2000 miles, something that the motor has no objection to (filters are replaced every fifth lubricant change) but after 1500 miles the gearchange action is very irreverent, noisy and difficult. Oil can be burnt off on high mileage engines at the rate of 200mpp (anything more then the rings are shot or there's a hole in the crankcases). Oil leakage is confined to the gearchange shaft seal and cylinder gaskets (don't reuse the latter unless you want an expensive mix of oil and water streaming out of the exhaust). The water pump has failed on some machines but it's not something that I've experienced.
The motor really is a gem of engineering, managing to combine a reasonable amount of torque below 7000rpm with an excess of power thereafter, all emphasized by the lack of mass it has to push along. Sure enough, ZZR and CBR 600s have even more power but they also weigh more, somehow lacking the hard edged, hard charging feel of the FZR. Even if in reality they can go 5 to 10mph faster and charge a little ahead from the traffic light GP.
The FZR needs less action on its gearbox, can run along rather rapidly in top gear between a mere 30mph and 140mph. Favourable conditions will put 150mph on the clock but it's rather a frenzied struggle, with some secondary vibes thrumming through the chassis, although normally there's only a minor amount of tingling in the bars and pegs that does no harm to my body even on long journeys. A motor with excessive vibes is on the way out.
Something else to avoid is non-standard exhausts, unless the four carbs have been given a good going over (they need, by the way, a balance every 5000 miles) because in my experience they invariably put some holes in the power band. At first, the engine might seem more powerful, as the stutter before the power comes in emphasizes the power band, but the poor low rev running soon becomes tiresome. I haven't found any exhaust that lets the stock engine produce more power, so Yamaha engineers knew exactly what they were doing.
Stock exhausts last for between three and six years depending on mileage and the kind of weather endured, salted roads being especially nasty. I've survived buying used ones from breakers, sometimes combining elements from different rusted sets of exhaust, as they don't seem to go first in any particular place. A noisy stock exhaust will be accompanied by an engine full of flat spots.
Another area susceptible to corrosion and wear are the front discs and calipers. Braking when the set-up was in a good state, and fitted with EBC pads (that last for almost 10000 miles) was predictable and powerful, so much so on the latter count that the slightly substandard forks could flex and twitch under a really vicious right hand. Alas, it took all too much work to keep the front brake in good shape, with everything from fade to seized up calipers to dangerously thin discs playing havoc with my state of mind.
To be fair to Yamaha, they'll see out the guarantee without any hassles and the latest machines have an improved set-up (the clutch and gearbox have also been modified, so maybe newish machines will go around the clock with even less hassle than the old ones).
The calipers can be rebuilt a couple of times before they are ready for the scrap heap (every 8 to 10000 miles, usually lasting 15000 before they require initial attention). The discs have lasted 20 to 25000 miles before their thinness becomes a danger. And, the brake fade is solved with a couple of lengths of Goodridge hose filled with new brake fluid.
The most worrying thing that happened to me was when the master cylinder was cracked in a mild slide that I thought had done no damage to the bike. Shortly after that I had to brake like a lunatic to avoid a cager in town who'd stopped dead for no apparent reason. The master cylinder fell apart, the lack of retardation allowing the front wheel to whack the back of the car, which it turned out had stopped for some tiny dog. He was all for killing me on the spot for putting a large dent in the back of his auto but an excess of spectators inhibited him. Damage to the FZR was minimal, so I didn't put in an insurance claim.
I was surprised that the front forks had survived unscathed, as they were the minimum that Yamaha could get away with. The most useful addition to the front end was a fork brace, stiffened them up much more than heavier springs or thicker oil. With a brace, and the hefty frame to back things up, I was quite happy to keep the forks as they were. There was a small amount of bouncing around, the odd twitch, but nothing that would cause the rider to throw up in sheer terror. Front wheel bearings lasted a good 50000 miles, steering head bearings about half that.
Tyres, sadly, lasted only around 6000 miles at either end, but I did fit choice Metzelers. Although the rims didn't allow the widest available 17" tyres to be fitted, the lack of rubber breath didn't upset stability; the FZR is one of the few bikes of this type that will run on bald tyres without throwing itself into massive wobbles or sliding off the road. I only did that the once, though, as I was booked for having unfit tyres, no working lights and horn. The fine was nothing compared to the way my insurance increased.
The back end had a shock that lost most of its damping after 20000 miles and was always a bit dubious when a hefty pillion was stuck on the rear, not a particularly clever idea as the seat becomes very cramped and a certain edge is taken off the acceleration. I bought a rebuilt White Power shock off an ex-racer and have kept swapping this over each time I've bought a new bike. They can be adjusted to suit most requirements, last about 25000 miles before needing another rebuild. They really are the business but at £400 new way over the top for most riders - I suppose it depends on how long the bike is kept and how hard it's ridden.
I've been amazed at the differences in longevity of the swinging arm and mono-track linkages. I know someone who bought an FZR for the first time, thinking the mild weaves were quite normal when in fact the back end was 250 miles short of needing all its spindles and bearings replaced. Just shows how much stability is inherent in the Deltabox frame. 10000 miles seems a reasonable point at which to tear the back end apart for a greasing session.
I've had bearings last for over 50000 and under 15000 miles given this sensible treatment. I found it helps to build up some extra protection around the back of the swinging arm - a combination of an old inner-tube and easily moulded alloy plate worked well, stopping a lot of the crud covering the rear shock and linkages. Mudguards on race replicas are pathetically minimal, they look great in the showroom but a day in the rain leaves them covered in muck. The rest of the chassis is pretty good.
I've yet to have a petrol tank rust through, although the plastic does crack around its mounting holes. I actually had the whole of one side of the fairing torn off in the mildest of slides along the road (the result of some spilt diesel rather than any chassis defect), down to the cracks weakening the structure. Not that the fairing was the best made plastic around, rather too thin and prone to vibrating harshly in the wind.
I did ride for a while without a fairing fitted, but it seemed to knock the edge off the high speed acceleration and top speed was down to 130mph. The wind blast didn't inspire very much love and I soon patched up the old one. The only problem with the plastic is that side winds can catch it, throwing the lightweight machine all over the road. The screen is on the low side, needing a real racing crouch to avoid having my head all shook up above 95mph.
The riding position you either hate or adapt to. It's not-as extreme as some and it's quite possible, after a few months, to happily throw the FZR around in town. No, it's the seat, more than anything else, that lets the side down. I've been in agony after a mere hour of hustling, from the way the foam goes flat and the edges of the seat digs into thighs. The bar/peg relationship isn't perfect for my long legs which end up a bit cramped after a couple of hours. Others will find the low seat height brilliant.
Fixing the seat involved recovering, denser foam and about seventy quid (I keep swapping the seat every time I change bikes)! It was better but still painful after more than 200 miles of riding in a day. If I stopped for half an hours rest I could continue, but the best solution seemed to be a pair of heavyweight jeans and Barbour overtrousers, which let me do 400 miles in a day without staggering around like a sexual deviant. It's the one thing I envy CBR600 riders, their instant rapport due to its excellent ergonomics.
I get my own back in the corners, where the superior flickability more than makes up for its slight deficit of power. The Yam really can be heeled right over until the laws of physics intrude. Even after so many miles on the FZR's I still haven't fully taken the Yam to its handling limits. Often, after a series of bends I'd come away with the feeling that | could have done them even faster. Some of this ability must come from the way they have craftily angled the cylinders forward, the rest of it from the massive Deltabox frame, the combination of strength and low centre of gravity overcoming even the rather mediocre suspension.
That basic stability, combined with the surprisingly easy going nature of the engine, meant that after a hard day's riding it's quite nice to rumble home in laid back fashion (the seat and riding position apart) rather than have to ride like a half drunk juvenile delinquent. It's rather strange that Yamaha never developed the bike into a more touring orientated machine. Naked, with a decent seat, milder riding position and the same chassis and power unit it would surely win lots of friends. The development of such a bike would cost next to nothing.
The problem with buying a used one is making sure that the engine hasn't been raced, the extra power and continuous thrashing taking their toll. The most obvious sign of racing is wired in nuts and bolts, not so easy to check with all the plastic in the way. The second potential horror is that they attract entirely the wrong type of owner, being viewed as a four stroke YPVS350. They are then ridden and neglected in a totally shameless manner, until thrown down the road. At least evidence of a bent Deltabox frame is easy to suss. Clutches and gearboxes I've already mentioned and are equally apparent during a test ride.
Prices vary greatly, depending on age and condition. The cheapest I've ever seen a runner was £1500, but I didn't buy it as it was the only FZR600 I'd ever heard with rumbling main bearings! £2550 bought my latest, one owner, pristine, in totally original nick, but I had to wait until November to buy it at such a bargain price. 3000 notes will buy an immaculate example, £2000 one with a decent engine but a chassis in need of some attention. I think they are a bit undervalued and underrated, one of the great bargains of the decade.
In the sixties Norton, Triumph and BSA were all deadly enemies, each with their own virtues and devotees. Norton had the best chassis, Triumph the superior engines and BSA were somewhere between the two. Perhaps typical of British engineering at the time, when they were flying high on an excess of sales and lack of big Japanese rivals, there seemed little point in investing in new machines. And when things began to fall apart, there was sod all money to renew the ancient machine tools and invest in decent designs. First BSA merged with Triumph, then there was Norton Villiers Triumph and in the end just poor old Meriden knocking out 750cc vertical twins.
Along the way there were attempts at modern bikes. The Trident wasn't really any worse than the Honda CB750, save that it lacked an electric start and front disc brake... and sometimes had dodgy valves and poor build quality. A well put together T150 or T160 is still an interesting motorcycle that can be very useful, unless, of course, you've ridden a new 900cc Trident. With the new Triumphs doing well, making the old triple seem obsolete most of the attention, nay devotion, has turned to the old OHV twins (especially now that it looks like Triumph won't be building new Bonnies).
My own Bonnie is a sensibly modded 1972 job, one of the last drum braked 650cc models but with the then new frame with the oil in the upper tube. It shares garage space with a Norton 750cc Commando of the same era, an Interstate model with Superblend bearings and electronic ignition. Both machines run stock but renovated chassis and are still used as often as ever.
The history of the 750cc Commando's engine goes back to their 500cc unit. In the late sixties Norton found themselves with the Atlas, whose 750cc's produced such a terrible flurry of vibration that it was almost unusable. This may have had something to do with using the same crankshaft as the 650 Dominator, the big capacity route being the cheapest way of upgrading British bikes to compete with the Japanese - in fact, the process so stressed their engines that they lost most of their ruggedness and charm. Anyway, faced with a market that demanded speed above all else and an engine that tried to shake itself out of the frame, the now infamous Isolastic mounts were born. The engine still shook, to the extent of often destroying its mounts, but most of those vibes were absorbed by the engine mounts.
The famous Featherbed frame was junked in favour of a new tubular trellis to match the engine mounts. As the whole engine was isolated it meant the swinging arm was not mounted directly on the frame! The handling depends entirely on how well the lsolastics are set up. Just as the Norton really needed a new engine design but got, instead, a new chassis, so the Bonnie was supplied with a new frame when the old one had evolved quite nicely over the decades from a speed wobbler into a relatively stable device. The Triumph frame was supposed to be common to the BSA twins, although in reality Triumph had insisted on retaining their swinging arm mounts between frame rails and back of engine, so even the savings from common running gear couldn't have been that high. The one downside of this chassis was a tall seat height that left the rider perched high on the bike - a most un-British trait!
The Bonnie makes up for this with a gutsy engine. 50 horses at 7000rpm is nothing to write home about, but these are real British horses rather than the effete Japanese ones, with a direct connection between the throttle action and the way the bike accelerates. With 400lbs of mass, many a modern Jap has been surprised by the way it'll accelerate up to 80mph, although top speed is only 110mph.
Where the Triumph thrives on revs (at least up to 7500rpm) and revels in being used hard through its gearbox, the Norton is more refined, slightly more restrained, partly because it's fitted with taller gearing than originally supplied by the factory and partly as a result of its extremely long stroke (89mm). Where the Norton really shines is sticking it into fourth gear at 50mph and opening the throttle. A tremendous shove in the back comes streaming in as its torque flows in relentlessly until 6000 revs. Even the factory advised against going above 7000rpm and even though the engine is claimed to produce 65 horses at 6500rpm, I limit myself to 6000 revs absolute maximum. With the taller gearing this gives a top whack of 115mph and a cruising speed, supremely relaxed, of 85 to 90mph.
It's possible to cruise the Bonnie at a similar speed but the engine feels very lively, with some quite strong vibration blitzing the chassis. For long life 75 to 80mph is much more sensible. Both bikes have plenty of power in hand for further, brief bursts of acceleration, so can just about deal with the motorway hustle.
If I have to do long distance work I usually take the Norton. It's much more relaxed and has a huge five gallon petrol tank (I would not advise anyone to ride far with the GRP version...). One of the best mods I made to the Commando was fitting a single SU carb, an expensive conversion new but I bought a secondhand one for £75. Smoother running, no carb balancing and better economy.
An original bike with points ignition and twin carbs returned 40 to 50mpg. Just fitting electronic ignition gained 5mpg, probably because the stock points varied the timing so much the engine never had a chance to run as it was designed. It was also nice to have the engine come to life first go, as a hell of a hefty kick is needed. With the taller gearing I was getting close to 60mpg. The SU carb improved that to nearly 70mpg! As I limited revs to 6000rpm there was no real loss of power.
The Bonnie was rather surprising with regards to fuel. Ridden gently it would turn in 75mpg, most of the time around 65mpg was available. Thrashed it would go down to 50mpg but riding like that I was more worried about the engine blowing up than the way the fuel was going west. The twin Amal carbs didn't need much attention so I had no real inclination to turn the engine into milder Tiger spec.
The Bonnie was brilliant on both country and A-roads, or anywhere with lots of curves. The sidestand prong has to be cut off, otherwise it'll dig in and try to throw the bike off the road. Vertical twins have always had the edge over triples and fours because their engines are narrow and can be thus mounted low, and the Bonnie is deliberately set up for highway kicks. Although the Norton only has an extra inch in wheelbase over the Triumph's 56 inches, it feels much more lazy, much better suited to the faster A-road and motorway curves. It feels slightly less natural than the Triumph, but with the lsolastic mounts firmed up is more stable, less affected by road bumps or white lines... both machines were shod with Avons on 19 inch wheels, tyres lasting a couple of thousand miles longer on the Triumph, but as even the Norton does over 12500 miles it's hardly a great load on the wallet.
Wheel bearings were crap on the Triumph, though. It came to me as a five year old with only 6000 miles on the clock but took only another 1000 miles to have the back wheel bearings rumbling. I had a look at the front at the same time, ended up replacing them as well, there being a distinct lack of grease. There seemed little point trying to buy bearings from a Triumph dealer, given their poor history, so I was quite pleased to buy a pre-greased set that were sealed on both sides. I haven't had any trouble since.
I also had the back wheel break up. I was two-up with an overweight wife on the back (ouch...) and a ton of camping gear in top-box, panniers and tank-bag but having half a dozen spokes go ping simultaneously in the middle of the Scottish highlands had me cursing the Bonnie and then walking five miles to a phone box to summon the AA. By the time I got back the guy had turned up and was tying down the bike on the trailer whilst the wife mouthed off about my total ineptitude.
I usually took the Norton touring as I never had any qualms about the robustness of its chassis but it had inconveniently decided it wanted a valve job, something it did every 10000 miles or so. Mostly down to the poor design of valve guide wearing out quickly and letting the valves wobble about. There was some warning of this, with banging in the still original silencers and a haze of pollution on the overrun. Valves needed a 500 mile adjustment even when they were in good fettle.
Amusingly (from a distance) the vibes from both engines destroyed the exhausts but in different ways. The Norton's downpipes would actually crack up although the silencers survived intact. The Triumph would crack up the brackets between downpipes and frame whilst also cracking up the silencers, although as they were of the quick rot variety it might have been a combination of rust and vibration. The Norton caught me out miles from home but I effected a repair with jubilee clips and a couple of cut up tins. Inelegant but it lasted the 220 miles back to my house. The ultimate solution is ultra thick stainless steel downpipes!
Both engines needed regular bolt tightening sessions unless you want to amuse the general populace with a loose cylinder or oil gushing out of the cylinder head. Triumph's valve covers are notorious for twirling off but drilling and wiring them together stops that (until the wire breaks) and the Commando's chaincase is renown for spewing out oil.
The Norton engine had retained its pre-unit construction while the Triumph had combined engine and gearbox in one unit in the early sixties. There's no real disadvantage in having a sepatate gearbox. Neither bike has had any gearbox troubles but the ease of removal of the Norton's would obviously be a plus point if, or when, attention is needed. The good thing with a four speeder is that the gears are large and thus long lasting, and in both cases the oil is kept separate from the main engine supply, allowing it to be suitably thick. Missed changes were never a problem on either bike. The Triumph's change was a touch faster, matching its harder revving engine, but the Norton's had a cleaner downchange. I never did, and doubt if I ever will, try a clutchless change on either bike.
The Norton has done the greater mileage at 76000 miles, against a mere 52000 miles on the Triumph, but has received more attention. Not by me, though, the bike came to me with 22000 miles and a recent, complete engine rebuild that included electronic ignition, hefty main bearings and its first rebore. Apart from the aforementioned head jobs I did another re-bore at 47000 miles and fitted new triplex primary chains every 12000 miles. The diaphragm clutch went the once at 39000 miles, producing a lot of clutch slip and some disturbing noises. Most parts are still available from the Norton factory. Use of modern gasket goo has stopped the worst of the oil leaks, although there seems nothing that can be done with the chaincase.
The Triumph is on its final rebore, third set of valvegear but still runs the original crankshaft. The duplex primary chain is longer lived, but the tensioner also needs replacing at 15000 miles. The clutch, a rather more conventional item than the Norton's, needs new plates every 20000 miles but if cheap pattern plates are used then it'll need attention in a lot less than 10000 miles. On both bikes, it's important to put high quality parts inside the motor.
The same should go for the chassis as well. I once fitted some cheap pads in the Lockheed front disc. After about 200 miles they broke up when I braked from 40mph for a junction. I had to lock up the back wheel and pop the bike into first gear to pull up in time. Even under that extreme abuse the chassis retained its poise. Unflappable was its best description. The rear drum was a delight to use and didn't wear out its shoes for tens of thousands of miles. When set up properly, with decent pads and Goodridge hose, the front disc was adequate to the Commando's speed but a little bit wooden in feel. The lack of feedback intensified when the brake fluid went off or the pads, which lasted about 8000 miles, were near the end of their life.
Wet weather wasn't exactly fear inspiring, but if a light caress of the lever every few minutes hadn't removed the layer of water then there was a mind dislocating period of lag before they gripped. When they did grip they did so progressively enough to avoid locking up the wheel on a wet road.
The Triumph's drums were a bit of a mixed bag, as well. The conical hubs were a beautiful sight to behold, but the front had a curious push-pull operation of its TLS unit that needed meticulous attention to its adjuster every 500 miles and a newish brake cable (figure about 5000 miles). When it was set up well, the braking was fierce-enough to lock up the wheel but sensitive enough to be really nice in the wet. When it went off, it became grabby in the dry and very unpredictable in the wet. The rear drum had no such suicidal tendencies but could have done with a touch more feel. Shoes lasted about 12000 miles at each end. Overall, | preferred the Norton's setup, but there wasn't enough in it to make it a reason for choosing one machine over the other. It's possible to fit the older TLS drum front brake from the late sixties version of either bike, so if they really become too dodgy a relatively cheap and effective solution is at hand. Suspension was similar but different.
Both machines had a set of Girling shocks, although the canted forward nature of the Norton's gave a more supple ride than the near vertical Triumph's which often seemed rather harsh. The Norton certainly had the better forks, inherited from their acclaimed Roadholder series that had good damping and perfectly matched springing. Again, the Triumph front end was less sophisticated, giving the bike a rougher, edgier feel on today's ruined road surfaces. Not that it was ever bad in the sense that it let the Triumph wobble or weave, but jumping from one machine to the other showed that the Norton had a more sophisticated ride.
With its slightly dubious shimming of the Isolastic mounts the Norton needs all the edge it can get. The shims needed attention every 2000 to 3000 miles, depending, it seemed to me, on how heavily loaded was the chassis. Both sets of forks eventually wore out. It was relatively easy to buy new bushes and seals for the Norton but I ended up buying a new set of forks for the Triumph. The latter felt less assured on knackered forks than the Norton.
Both machine's electrical systems have evolved in an identical manner. With the exception of the alternator, all the Lucas electrical bits have been pulled off and thrown away. Replaced with some Japanese solid state bits, I'm sorry to say, and a big car battery. Lights are halogens but the Norton's lasts twice as long, which reflects the amount of vibration getting through to the chassis. Switches, electrics and wiring on the stock bikes are total crap after a couple of years wear and should be junked in the unlikely event that it hasn't been done already.
Both bikes have a voracious need for oil, the Triumph having a slight tendency to crack its frame, letting oil leak out of its reservoir. The oil cap in the frame (at the front of the seat) is actually a valve cover - cynics might suggest that it can be used to replace one of the valve covers when they vibrate off but this would leave you with a lap full of lubricant! Because a lot of oil's burnt off or leaks out I only change it every 3000 miles, which seems about right for these motors which have only the most basic of lubrication systems.
If I had to chose one machine then it would probably be the Norton as my riding tends towards the long distance. If I was going to use one of these bikes for commuting and charging down country lanes then the Triumph would have the edge. Prices for a good example of either are in the thousands rather than hundreds with the venerable Interstate fetching an extra grand over the Triumph, running if rough examples of which can be bought for about £750. But they will need two times that amount spent to bring them up to scratch. The great pity is that there is no modern interpretation; a fun big twin with an excess of torque that can be run on the same kind of money as a Honda C90.
