The wheelie came with a large detonation. The clutch definitely didn't like being dropped at 7500 revs! The front wheel rose off the ground, the bars waggling in my hands and obscuring forward vision. When I ran out of acceleration in first gear - at maximum revs the 750 four became rather vibratory - the front bounced back down, as if confirming the utter reluctance of the bike to indulge in wheelie madness.
My view of the road revealed a rapidly encroaching van. I'd somehow wandered on to the wrong side of the road. It didn’t take much thought to work out that the van would survive a head-on collision rather better than the Suzuki. Well made they might be but not that well made! I twitched the reluctant bars and just managed to twist past the van. Some steroid abuser skinhead stuck his head out of the window and shouted 'plonker' at me at the top of his voice. Charming!
This all happened on my first day of ownership of the 1978 machine. 16 years of abuse and 26000 miles hadn't really dented the GS750's sheen or ruggedness. Mostly because it was the fabled one owner, who was much more mature than mad. At £1500 (in 1994) it was a pretty good buy in my book. Additions to the stock bike were a set of Koni shocks, slinky saddle, plastic guards, full chain enclosure and stainless steel exhaust. It was one of those bikes that had been much lavished with tender loving care.
God knows what the poor thing thought about falling into my hands. After finding out that wheelies were not much cop, I threw in a bit of speed testing on the M4. The M4’s heavily policed in the Welsh half but as I hadn't registered the bike in my name and didn’t expect to stop for the cops it wasn't a big problem, was it?
The gearbox didn't like to engage fourth under a heavy throttle, making a stutter in the forward acceleration. The GS didn't want to do much more than 110mph under these circumstances. When I eventually wound it up successfully through the gearbox, the bike shot up to 120mph on the clock. It took a long time to pass 130mph and by the time 135mph was on the clock the poor old engine was trying to buzz its way out of the tubular frame.
The handling was something else. On a long, smooth straight the thing was weaving over a full lane’s width of road by the time 100mph was on the clock. Almost certainly down to inadequate swinging arm bearing support there was 500lbs of machine to fight against. When I went to swing the beast through a gentle curve at 120mph it was all over the shop and came out of the bend at 130mph with some strong handlebar shakes.
Later, I did find that it had one safety feature. If I wanted to tame the weaves in a curve - which basically meant getting the speed below 90mph when it was a whole different, much improved, bundle of metal - all I had to do was gently close the throttle a little, which had the added benefit of tightening up the bike’s line in the bend.
Conversely, if not perversely, trying to lose speed using the front brake, which had been upgraded with Goodridge hose and EBC pads (and was therefore pretty good), made the bike buck like a good ’un and try to run off the road. Even the rear brake had an unsettling effect on the GS when leant over and it was a big brute to duck and dive with when some unexpected obstacle turned up. I quickly concluded that the bike was only just in control of itself and didn't, later, find anything to make me change that conclusion.
On the good side, the 120 mile ride home turned up no pains. The non-standard saddle was luxury personified and the riding position sporty without being excruciating. An excellent compromise that rarely turns up in modern bikes. Further adventures revealed that the only limit on a 500 mile day was a bit of tingling in my extremities, easily avoided by riding in the 75 to 90mph range in top gear.
The only real limitations to serious touring were that its naked nature meant I got cold and wet, and also that luggage was limited to what I could bung in a tank bag, as it didn’t like too much weight out back; wasn't even happy with the presence of a fairly light pillion. The Konis might’ve been slightly under spec or it might just be poor weight distribution. It wasn't that much of a downer as I normally ride light and solo.
It's a heavy handling bike unless you're into steroids but one that becomes less wearying as you get used to it. Its width is hard going in traffic, I tended to end up winding the throttle up until a cage moved out of the way the exhaust made a delightful howl at 7000 revs that drove both pedestrians and dogs completely wild. Wear boots as dogs have a strong inclination to take nips out of GS750 riders’ legs.
My view of the road revealed a rapidly encroaching van. I'd somehow wandered on to the wrong side of the road. It didn’t take much thought to work out that the van would survive a head-on collision rather better than the Suzuki. Well made they might be but not that well made! I twitched the reluctant bars and just managed to twist past the van. Some steroid abuser skinhead stuck his head out of the window and shouted 'plonker' at me at the top of his voice. Charming!
This all happened on my first day of ownership of the 1978 machine. 16 years of abuse and 26000 miles hadn't really dented the GS750's sheen or ruggedness. Mostly because it was the fabled one owner, who was much more mature than mad. At £1500 (in 1994) it was a pretty good buy in my book. Additions to the stock bike were a set of Koni shocks, slinky saddle, plastic guards, full chain enclosure and stainless steel exhaust. It was one of those bikes that had been much lavished with tender loving care.
God knows what the poor thing thought about falling into my hands. After finding out that wheelies were not much cop, I threw in a bit of speed testing on the M4. The M4’s heavily policed in the Welsh half but as I hadn't registered the bike in my name and didn’t expect to stop for the cops it wasn't a big problem, was it?
The gearbox didn't like to engage fourth under a heavy throttle, making a stutter in the forward acceleration. The GS didn't want to do much more than 110mph under these circumstances. When I eventually wound it up successfully through the gearbox, the bike shot up to 120mph on the clock. It took a long time to pass 130mph and by the time 135mph was on the clock the poor old engine was trying to buzz its way out of the tubular frame.
The handling was something else. On a long, smooth straight the thing was weaving over a full lane’s width of road by the time 100mph was on the clock. Almost certainly down to inadequate swinging arm bearing support there was 500lbs of machine to fight against. When I went to swing the beast through a gentle curve at 120mph it was all over the shop and came out of the bend at 130mph with some strong handlebar shakes.
Later, I did find that it had one safety feature. If I wanted to tame the weaves in a curve - which basically meant getting the speed below 90mph when it was a whole different, much improved, bundle of metal - all I had to do was gently close the throttle a little, which had the added benefit of tightening up the bike’s line in the bend.
Conversely, if not perversely, trying to lose speed using the front brake, which had been upgraded with Goodridge hose and EBC pads (and was therefore pretty good), made the bike buck like a good ’un and try to run off the road. Even the rear brake had an unsettling effect on the GS when leant over and it was a big brute to duck and dive with when some unexpected obstacle turned up. I quickly concluded that the bike was only just in control of itself and didn't, later, find anything to make me change that conclusion.
On the good side, the 120 mile ride home turned up no pains. The non-standard saddle was luxury personified and the riding position sporty without being excruciating. An excellent compromise that rarely turns up in modern bikes. Further adventures revealed that the only limit on a 500 mile day was a bit of tingling in my extremities, easily avoided by riding in the 75 to 90mph range in top gear.
The only real limitations to serious touring were that its naked nature meant I got cold and wet, and also that luggage was limited to what I could bung in a tank bag, as it didn’t like too much weight out back; wasn't even happy with the presence of a fairly light pillion. The Konis might’ve been slightly under spec or it might just be poor weight distribution. It wasn't that much of a downer as I normally ride light and solo.
It's a heavy handling bike unless you're into steroids but one that becomes less wearying as you get used to it. Its width is hard going in traffic, I tended to end up winding the throttle up until a cage moved out of the way the exhaust made a delightful howl at 7000 revs that drove both pedestrians and dogs completely wild. Wear boots as dogs have a strong inclination to take nips out of GS750 riders’ legs.
After three months the bike and I had settled into each others ways. I’d become a bit more moderate on the throttle as there didn’t seem anything to be gained from bouncing the valves through the gears - other than the antisocial exhaust howl!
Maintenance wasn't too nasty. Change the oil every 1500 miles! Electronic ignition plus valves and carbs that had settled in nicely and didn’t need any attention, meant it was an easy life. The full chain enclosure meant that chain adjustments were rare - the GS series have a bit of a reputation for tearing through chain and sprocket sets in around 5000 miles, so a full chain enclosure is well worth having.
The well built DOHC four cylinder engine made all of 70 horses. Not exactly state of the art but the relative mildness meant it was more or less bullet-proof. The one weak spot was the alternator, along with the rectifier/regulator; either or both could burn out with little warning. Mine was running a Superdream rectifier/regulator and had been rewired (| don’t know if the alternator was rewound or not) and it all seemed to work well.
The well built DOHC four cylinder engine made all of 70 horses. Not exactly state of the art but the relative mildness meant it was more or less bullet-proof. The one weak spot was the alternator, along with the rectifier/regulator; either or both could burn out with little warning. Mine was running a Superdream rectifier/regulator and had been rewired (| don’t know if the alternator was rewound or not) and it all seemed to work well.
Don't try running a stronger headlamp or adding any heavy duty accessories (like handlebar warmers), at the best the electrics are marginal. The front light was up to 50mph cruising down unlit country lanes, but it wasn’t the kind of beam I'd like to suffer for long on unlit roads.
On one occasion I was hurtling along when I spied a black shape in the murky glow of the light. I only realised it was a dead dog after the front wheel had run over it (it was dead by the time the GS finished with it, anyway)... the bars twitched a couple of times but the sheer, excessive momentum of the Suzuki carried us forward.
On one occasion I was hurtling along when I spied a black shape in the murky glow of the light. I only realised it was a dead dog after the front wheel had run over it (it was dead by the time the GS finished with it, anyway)... the bars twitched a couple of times but the sheer, excessive momentum of the Suzuki carried us forward.
In a year I did 13000 miles without any real problems. Didn't even fall off or hit anything - a minor miracle given the way I like to ride - though there were a couple of near misses. The excess of the GS tended to make the more nervous cager twitch out of the way. Even the cops looked on the machine in a generally benign way.
The bike qualified for classic insurance (about £90 for TPF&F), fuel was around 40mpg and it needed two sets of tyres as it went all weird when the tread was down to 3mm - not the kind of machine to run on bald rubber. No way! The front pads were another heavy wearing item at around 4500 miles a set - not that surprising as the bike often needed to be pulled up heavily for the bends as an alternative to falling off.
The engine’s good for at least 50000 miles, often twice that or more. The clutch and valves are the main faults on high milers, both easily checked. The clutch may rattle at tickover but it should go away when the throttle’s twitched. The electrics are nasty. The chassis is strong but prone to rust, and the suspension needs to be upgraded.
You can buy a rat for less than £1000 but it'll need a lot of work. Better to pay £1500 to £2000 for something sound with sensible mods (make sure the engine’s stock, though). I sold mine for £1750.
Dave Harris
The bike qualified for classic insurance (about £90 for TPF&F), fuel was around 40mpg and it needed two sets of tyres as it went all weird when the tread was down to 3mm - not the kind of machine to run on bald rubber. No way! The front pads were another heavy wearing item at around 4500 miles a set - not that surprising as the bike often needed to be pulled up heavily for the bends as an alternative to falling off.
The engine’s good for at least 50000 miles, often twice that or more. The clutch and valves are the main faults on high milers, both easily checked. The clutch may rattle at tickover but it should go away when the throttle’s twitched. The electrics are nasty. The chassis is strong but prone to rust, and the suspension needs to be upgraded.
You can buy a rat for less than £1000 but it'll need a lot of work. Better to pay £1500 to £2000 for something sound with sensible mods (make sure the engine’s stock, though). I sold mine for £1750.
Dave Harris