The Kawasaki GPX250 was not a bike I had lusted after all my life. It was one of those times when a bargain drops into your lap and you'd be a fool to ignore it. A one year old example for £1000? There was a catch, the bike had been slid down the road. Taking out the GRP on each side, as well as flattening the silencers. The wreck was still rideable and I was impressed by the way the water-cooled DOHC twin fired up first time on the button. The breaker took my money with a huge grin and made me sign a form that said the bike was only fit for scrap.
I didn't fancy riding home without insurance and tax, so a mate was summoned and the Kawasaki slung into the back of his Transit. Back home, I looked more closely at my new toy. I knew that the plastic bits would be extortionately priced - if they weren't the bike would not have been written off - but as I had no intention of replacing them that was no great problem.
There were lots of cracks, some large chunks of plastic missing and a rather horrible dent in the petrol tank. I knew that if I took the bits off they would crumble into a hundred different pieces. I had done some GRP work before, so it was just a matter of buying the materials and patching up the fairing, side panels, tailpiece and guards as I went along.
A week's work saw the worst of it sorted, although it looked a pretty horrible mess at the end of the day. A pair of GPz500 silencers took care of the exhaust system (from a breaker for £35), whilst indicators, switches and lights were from an assortment of other models as Kawasaki use the same stuff whenever possible. The seat was patched with good old black tape, the dent in the tank given a precautionary coating of rust inhibitor and a quick oil change done. The clock read only 5237 miles, so I had few qualms about engine longevity.
My first ride was to leave a lasting impression upon me! There seemed no power below 7000rpm, then the motor came in with a howl and the revs catapulted around to 12000rpm. God, it was fun. The handling was impressive up to about 90mph, laughably easy to flick through the bends but stable in a straight line at the same time. Unfortunately, that stability disappeared when the speedo hit 95mph, the whole bike feeling very twitchy; as if at any moment it was going to go completely out of control.
Being young and fearless (or a stupid spotty kid) I rode through it, desperate in the need to see what it would do. 110mph turned out to be the answer. Not that brilliant from a 38hp high tech engine but not half bad for a mere 250. The combination of a very heavy weave and tyres that felt like they were riding on nails, gave sufficient cause for concern to rapidly back off to 90mph. To be fair to the little horror, she was able to hold this speed all day long with reassuring stability.
When this cager tried to knock me off at that speed I had cause to thank whoever designed the disc brakes on the GPX (one at each end). With hardly any need for muscular input, I had hauled off a massive dose of speed in what seemed a mere moment. I missed the back end of the car by inches. With only 340lbs to fling about, those brakes were to enable me to rush up to corners at indecent speed, leaving the retardation to the last possible moment. The only downside was that pads did not last more than 4500 miles at either end. There was no discernible wet weather lag and plenty of feedback.
After 300 miles I decided some filler in the tank and a complete respray were a worthwhile investment. Shocking pink mixed with a bit of slime green paint was duly applied. It’s now a real class act, something of a head turner in the local town centre, where it does quite well in the wheelie it until you fall off races. The GPX needs the tacho in the red and a rapid clutch drop to stay with the head of the pack, but given that it’s surprisingly controllable on one wheel.
It may have been these wild runs that caused all the engine coolant to disappear. The first I knew of it was the temperature gauge shooting way into the red. No serious damage was inflicted on the engine, thank god. The Kawasaki dealer denied having any engine coolant in stock. I refused to believe such stupidity. He ended up grabbing me by the collar and booting me out of his showroom. A nearby car accessory store provide a can of the stuff, doubtless at a fraction of the price that the motorcycle dealer would have demanded.
With about 11000 miles on the clock the handling went wild. he bike would not do more than 65mph without trying to bounce the rider off. The steering head bearings were shot. I couldn't believe how much hassle these were... they refused to come out until I started into them with a huge lump hammer. New bearings soon had the handling finesse back. By the way, after exchanging the Jap OE tyres for Metz’s high speed stability improved dramatically.
The bike could be run along at ton plus speeds with none of the previous dramatics. Unfortunately, the price paid for this was tyre life of 3500-4000 miles, which I though very poor for such a light and relatively slow machine. Part of this high wear was down to the fact that with a mere 3mm of tread left the Metz tyres became very twitchy, even at low speeds. The OE Japs had been fine at lower speeds even when the tyres were bald.
Petrol consumption varied enormously, from 35 to 65mpg. The better figures were only obtained by using less than 7000rpm, which was pretty silly because although splendidly smooth, acceleration was on a par with a restricted FS1E. The nearer the engine was screamed to the red zone the worse the economy became. The average worked out nearer to 40 than 50mpg. The chain was exemplary, not seeming to wear at all and even with 18000 miles on the clock not needing replacement nor much adjustment. The end of my time with the GPX finished with the bike where I had found it written off in a breakers!
The finale occurred on one of those impossibly wet days when the best place for any sane biker is tucked up in bed with the youngest nubile he can find. It absolutely bucketed down. The roads were awash with water and the little fairing on the GPX served only to add to the ferocity of the torrent of water that engulfed my body. Forward visibility was minimal and I was crawling along at 25mph with the lights turned up high, wishing to god that I had spent a bit more dosh on my waterproof gear. My underpants felt like they were full of a gallon of water (and not because I'd just pissed myself, mate).
It was under these circumstances that some turd in a Cavalier came charging past at about four times my speed. Mr Turd was on the wrong side of the road and suddenly realised that he was about to go straight into a bus coming in the other direction. Obviously only one thing for it, slam on the brakes and swerve viciously to the left. Never mind that it would mean knocking yours truly off, throwing me into a tree. Or that the poor old GPX would bounce down the road, hit a telephone box and then spin back in front of the Cavalier which had decided to speed off as if nothing had happened.
Thank god for crash helmets is all I can say. I landed on my head and split my helmet in half but walked away from the accident with only bruises and lacerations. The GPX ended up embedded in the Vauxhall’s engine, the driver was slumped over the wheel in deep shock. Both vehicles were a write off.
The driver kept coming around the house trying to persuade me that it was my fault for riding a motorcycle in the first place. He didn’t have any insurance and my lawyer had assured me that we could sue him until he went bankrupt. Needless to say, I slammed the door in his face.
It wasn’t worth keeping the GPX, it was crushed and battered beyond recognition, with holes in the engine as well as bent everything. While it lasted, the Kawasaki was a fun bike to ride but not one could recommend to those of a staid temperament. It had a two stroke appetite for revs and consumables. I would buy another but prefer to move on to something bigger and hopefully better.
Darren Burroughs