The mild custom lines of the SR250 rather appealed, the single cylinder motor made a nice noise and the discount off the high retail price (would you believe £2100?) made me wonder off the back of which lorry the dealer was getting the bikes. I wasn't going to complain, though, was soon getting used to the controls, feeling at home on the bike after a surprisingly short time.
Three miles later the SR ground to a halt. The engine went dead in the middie of a pack of cagers who signalled their amusement with a chorus of horns. Panic ensued until I realised that the petrol tank was as empty as the average Page 3 bimbo’s brain. The half mile push to the nearest petrol station was an absurd way of getting fit. I took a moment out to praise the drum brakes (which didn’t have any of the drag of discs) and the weight of only 275lbs.
Running in meant using the motor at low revs and not putting it under undue load by doing things like trying to accelerate up steep hills in top gear. It’s all very well pottering around town at 30mph but there are circumstances when a brief burst of acceleration is necessary for personal survival. In the first 100 miles hard use of the throttle was met with an excess of vibes, but after 500 miles the motor became tolerably smooth at most revs.
First impressions of the 250cc OHC single were of a docility on a par with an overfed cow and a reaction to the throttle that bordered on the lethargic. I put it down to the tightness of the motor, proceeded to do 500 miles in the first month. The free service included a test ride by the youthful mechanic that consisted of revving the engine until the motor threatened to jump out of the frame. Only with great restraint did I avoid smacking the grinning imbecile in the mouth on his return. The SR hasn't been anywhere near a dealer's since.
Being a single there's really very little maintenance to do, just check the two valves every 3000 miles and change the oil every 1000 miles (the bike’s used mostly in town for short journeys so the oil has a hard time). The most tiresome aspect of the SR is drive chain adjustments every 300 to 400 miles. When the motor was fully run in it still revealed itself as being pretty gutless, despite a claimed 20 horses. Under very favourable conditions it came close to doing 80mph, but usually it had trouble gasping up to more than 70mph. It was just as well that I used motorways as frequently as Volvo drivers looked where they were going. The high bars meant, anyway, that more than half an hour at 60mph became very tiring.
Bumming around town seemed the natural place for the little Yamaha.
The handlebars were high enough for Hell’s Angles to cast envious glances, the armchair style riding position relaxing enough to cancel out the need for my daily dose of valium. I’m pretty short, those near six feet would find the riding position very cramped, with the bars in their lap and knees up around their chest. If the engine never stuttered out enough power to excite an owner of a rat Superdream, it at least was usable at almost any revs in any gear.
The gearbox worked OK rather than exceptionally. It never missed a selection but always felt a bit like cutting through steak with a fish knife. Having the drive chain do a passing resemblance to knicker elastic after just 9000 miles made the Yamaha lurch around like a fairground rocking horse. Being mean, it wasn’t replaced until it snapped, taking a large chunk out of the chainguard on the way to oblivion. The noise of the exploding chain caused a mammoth poodle to rush out of nowhere and lose a couple of teeth trying to take nips out of my leather boots. Pushing the bike two miles gave me time to mull over obscure philosophies as well as put my back out. The doctor was about as sympathetic as a stoat eyeing a snake.
By then, having taut suspension that kept the SR in check was just a fond memory. The limits of the Yam’s handling were set by its custom style and huge handlebars. The latter, along with the low mass, meant the motorcycle could be thrown through bends until the limits of the ground clearance, either the exhaust or stand prong, tried to tilt the Yam off the road. Had the SR been capable of 100mph then I guess the slight weaves at 70mph would've turned into huge wobbles; even when new the SR gave the impression of working its suspension and tubular frame to their limits.
The same was probably true of the drum brakes but I liked their feel, the front needing a lot of pressure before much braking took place but always with sufficient feel for there to be no fear of locking up the wheel even though the OE tyres were not much cop. They weren't so bad that I could justify throwing them away immediately and with 11500 miles done so far still have enough tread to see out much more than the guarantee period.
The tyres haven't become any worse with wear, their most intimidating trait being to let loose on slimy city roads. The low seat height and those handlebars means it’s quite easy to flick the bike back on course or take a dab down with a boot (if you have reflexes developed by riding ancient hacks). On one memorable January trip I had to ride across an ice covered bit of road with both feet down, thinking it would've been a good idea to wear some ice-skates before venturing out. The SR doesn’t have a top heavy feel, which compensates for its short wheelbase, so doesn't appear too nervous during such desperate riding conditions. The gentle drum brakes were brilliant in dodgy weather.
The Yam has a nicely balanced feel that allows pottering through traffic at less than walking speeds with both feet up on the pegs. Being a single, it scrapes through narrow gaps although the bars are positioned to take out Transit mirrors (the SR’s own mirrors never gave a very clear view behind). The drum brakes were adequate for avoiding blind jerks in cages at city speeds. Even a couple of hours in London traffic caused no concern, the only complaint from the motor was that it'd conk out, from time to time, at low revs. As the SR has an electric boot it’s as easily started from hot as it is from cold. Warming up on winter days was a different matter, for the first few minutes, the poor old single cylinder engine doing a passable imitation of an asthmatic let loose in an asbestos factory.
The only other minor annoyance was a front light that was completely naff out of town and made life especially interesting when it blew the bulb a couple of times. This was only a minor flaw as I rarely found myself out of town at night. The switches all worked fine and weren't affected by damp weather. The chrome would tarnish whenever the clouds spat out some rain but cleaned up with Solvol. The paint on the tank around the filler cap bubbled but hasn't gone rusty yet. The wheel spokes have shown slight signs of the dreaded corrosion and are awkward to keep clean.
I guess only those who like the SR250's looks will bother buying one. Many would say it’s a very bland bike, but if you can get a good discount they are as cheap as most 125s, cost next to nothing to tun (fuel is 70-90mpg) and make excellent commuters without going to the extremes of something completely utilitarian like a Honda step-thru. Its pleasant character has got me hooked!
H Houston