The fuel injected Z1000 is a rare beast but the 1981 example I came across was in such neat shape that I couldn't resist. The ten year old bike had done a mere 18000 miles, which for these tough DOHC fours is not much more than running in mileages. The whole bike had survived with original components except for Phantom tyres and a four into one exhaust. Riding home, after handing over a thousand notes, I was amazed with the bike’s handling. Very dangerous above 70mph with massive weaves, the Z needing more than one lane to survive. It was so bad that I was reassured that the previous owner had obviously not ridden the bike at all hard.
Judging by the murky white sludge that came out of the crankcases the oil had never, ever, been changed. The engine idled reliably and whipped around into the red when the throttle was opened in neutral. Ergo, the valves and fuel injectors didn’t need any serious attention. That just left the handling to sort out. The list went something like this: fork brace; heavy-duty springs; Koni-Dial-A-Ride shocks; alloy swinging arm with needle roller bearings; and on the advice of the local dealer, taper roller bearings in the headstock.
I was expecting a brilliant transformation, but the damn thing still weaved and wobbled at 70mph. However, going above 80mph smoothed the handling out until about the ton when the wobbles came back with a vengeance. My mate with an XS1100 reckoned it was the half foot high bars not allowing much weight over the front wheel.
One set of ace-bars later, the handling was much improved. I actually felt inclined to bank the Z over more than a few degrees in corners. Flashes of my death ran through my mind when the exhaust’s collector scraped on to the tarmac. The narrower bars made it extremely difficult to quickly lever the 550Ibs of slow steering metal back on to a less fatal line. I could feel my muscles being torn out with all the effort of controlling the clumsy swine. Back home there was a hell of a big dent in the exhaust!
The four into one hadn't upset the engine’s delivery of power, which was thrilling to 6500 revs and exceptional thereafter. Even the XS1100 had trouble keeping up when I worked the throttle. Most of the time I could only use a fraction of the available power, explaining, along with the presence of fuel injection, the 55 to 60mpg economy. Regrettably, such frugality didn’t extend to the rest of the consumables. Used to 550s and 750s, I was shocked to find the back tyre expiring in 3000 miles, the front in 5000 miles, which mileage also ruined the front pads. Clutch cables, even when greased and carefully routed, only lasted for 2000 to 3000 miles. No amount of careful, as in slow, riding helped extend consumable life; if I was ever to ride like a lunatic all the time, those distances could probably be halved!
There was no hope of ignoring wear in the consumables, either. Worn tyres brought the worst out in the handling and dead pads rattled around, allowing a mind warping amount of fade and lag. The brake calipers proved resistant to winter grime, only needing a clean up when the pads were changed - in good nick the front brake would quite happily squeal the tyre. Town riding was a rather crazy point and squirt affair that usually ended up making maximum use of the front brake. With the ace bars it was a heavy, awkward old thing to bounce about but drag starts were scintillating and the Z looked quite flash, a nice pose for impressing the ignorant and a certain type of young lady who would do just about anything after a ride.
It took about 5000 miles for the clutch to fall apart. The drum actually cracked up, leading to lots of grinding noises and a complete loss of power. I killed the motor straight away and pushed her the half mile to the house. I collapsed from exhaustion. It could’ve been really serious but none of the bits had managed to snag on any other components. I flushed out the engine a couple of times to make sure. A second hand clutch was acquired from the breakers. They do go when wheelies are indulged but that must’ve been part of its history because I certainly would not try that. Too heavy and brutal for such excesses. The clutch and the gearbox always felt a bit shagged out. False neutrals, hammering noises and some clutch twitching that made smooth town work hard going.
There was a period when starting became onerous and the engine cut out at low speeds. It wasn’t the injectors or associated black boxes (the latter looked newish) but the ignition coils. A second hand set for a Mk.2 were fitted, worked OK despite looking very different.
A holiday ride down to Spain at some wicked speeds, necessary to keep the XS1100 in sight, tested my endurance. I didn't really want to do more than 200 miles in a day of high speed riding but my friend proved quite insane. The XS wobbled and weaved to an even greater extent than the Z, but my friend had trained himself to ignore the wildness!
Secondary vibes also appeared, turning my fingers numb after about an hour, the white knuckle grip on the bars amplifying the buzzing. After the journey down to Spain, done in a day, I refused to ride the Kwack for a couple of days, giving my muscles a chance to recover. The XS rider had no qualms about leaping aboard first thing in the morning, impressing the Spanish girls with his wheel spinning and wheelies! Still, I wasn't going to complain as he set me up with a couple of young women.
Coming home, the camchain started to rattle at high revs. I took it easy as the XS rider roared off into the distance, not to be seen again until I hit the ferry. By the time I was back home the noise was drowning out the exhaust even at tickover. Camchains are another weak spot with the engine, often only lasting for 25000 miles. I had to buy a new tensioner as well. No other damage was done to the engine, in most circumstances it’s possible to get home after the rattles start.
The next little annoyance was the silencer beginning to disintegrate. lt was very battered by then by being scraped along the tarmac during the more exuberant cornering. The fuel injectors appeared to adjust themselves to suit the disintegrating baffles or maybe the state of tune was mild enough to tolerate changes in exhaust flow. It was a matter of using a hacksaw to cut off the silencer part of the exhaust and knocking on a nearly new Zephyr can. The downpipes were merely rusty.
54000 miles had the tank paint fading and the frame paint peeling off over the welds, whilst wheel alloy was submerged beneath a layer of white corrosion. Some decaying wiring started the fuses blowing and the underside of the petrol tank was spotted with rust. The motor was solid enough, loads of power and no untoward noises.
Seemed to me that the bike was beginning to reach that age when big expense was going to be necessary. Even after eighteen months of riding I hadn't really come to grips with the handling. It would often leave me trembling with fear, just short of making a mess in my underpants. There was an element of unpredictability that was perturbing. I sold the bike for £1450, now have something smaller and newer.
Alan Kay