Over the next two weeks I carefully ran the machine in, a process that restricted me to 80mph - probably just as well as the Yam was a bit of a revelation after the Honda. The only thing I regretted was not having the use of an electric start which would have greatly assisted in the fine art of cold starting. The bike was so much better than the Honda that I was always reluctant to get off and was soon doing 500 miles a week.
My first long ride was to visit a friend in Gloucester. The route was mainly A roads with an eight mile dual carriageway section, where the bike could be well strung out. 100mph was extremely easy to reach, another 10mph no problem, although getting it up to 120mph was difficult. The engine appeared designed to stop it from revving beyond 10000rpm, so consequently it was difficult to really thrash the motor. Perhaps it was a deliberate aid to mechanical longevity.
The journey back was a real dog. It was another damp day and it was so easy to flood the carbs that I spent five minutes kicking the bike over until it roared into life with clouds of grey smoke. You should have seen the sniggers from my friend, a confirmed car owner... in retribution, once on the main road, I screwed the bike past a stream of cars. Once-in the power band I couldn’t bear to think of the damage to the rear tyre and concentrated, instead, on the huge grin I was wearing.
Cresting a brow of a hill, in the middle of the road, there was a car coming towards me occupying the same bit of road I wanted to take. I froze up momentarily and did nothing, the speed was so rapid that by the time I started to think about reacting the mirror of the car had whacked my front brake lever, which in turn smashed into my fingers with such force that I couldn’t feel them any more.
I was scared that I had lost my fingers and relieved that I hadn't hit the car head on or hadn't come off. The bright lights of a 24 hour garage ahead were most welcome. I had to rest the bike on its side stand as I didn’t have the energy to haul it onto the main stand. I can honestly say that I have never felt so scared as I took the glove off, it felt like I‘d lost two fingers.
I was pleased to find that I was not deformed in any way. I dashed into the cashiers office and half explained what had happened, really only wanting to calm my nerves - to the cashiers I must have looked a right state under the glaring lights and video cameras. After a generous glass of water and a long sit down I summoned the courage to ride the remaining 15 miles home.
I found it amazing that the Yam was still rideable. And, also that the brakes had failed to lock up when the lever had been bounced back to the bars, especially as they were high spec twin discs. Just think, if both the car and I were doing 80mph, the impact speed must've been 160mph...
The last leg of the journey was taken at high speed to overcome my nerves and the pain in my hand on the basis that I didn’t have much else to lose and concentrating on the road was preferable to concentrating on the consequences of the accident. An X-ray revealed a couple of fractures and the bike spent the next couple of weeks in the shed whilst I waited impatiently for the plaster to be removed.
The nightmare started when I got back on the machine the day after I came out of the plaster. I had a small journey arranged to Oxford to collect a pair of glasses I needed for driving, as I'm short sighted. I approached a roundabout at 50mph and prepared myself to lean and turn the bars but found myself, just after I started this manoeuvre, sliding across the road with the bike. We hit the kerb, were flicked up in the air and I had a wonderfully soft landing on the verge whilst the bike shot forward and landed on its side, the engine still running.
My only explanation for this is that the back tyre, after 2500 miles, was well shot and that I was in too high a gear, unable to power around the obstacle. In a high state of shock, I cursed the bike, myself and kept repeating myself, much to the bemusement of the car driver who was kind enough to stop I was patched up by a cottage hospital whilst the bike was dumped at a nearby dealers who awaited the insurance company’s verdict.
It cost £1500 to repair, although to my chagrin I found that there were still parts that hadn't been replaced - after 56 days and many phone calls! The final cost was the same as a new bike and I felt well cheated as I could’ve had a new machine immediately instead of hanging around for so long.
Almost immediately, I had to take the machine back as they had forgotten to balance the front wheel - it would have shaken itself to bits if it had been left alone. It was great to be back on the machine, but it became too much of a liability. The front forks never seemed to work properly as they dived viciously when the brakes were applied. I sold the machine to a dealer for £1900, so in nine months it cost me £1000 with insurance, depreciation and running costs, which you might think extortionate... and I would agree.
The Yam was a truly pleasurable bike to ride and I enjoyed every minute on the machine. It required no maintenance, managed 45mpg to and from work, and always performed more than adequately. A few months longer without another accident and I'm sure I would have got the hang of it, although a friend who rides a RD350LC says he’s only just got used to the bike after nine years.
One warning, though. Don’t ride the Yam over thick white lines at speed - I did twice and the Yam twitched so viciously that I almost had another insurance job. You won't believe how sensitive the Yamaha is until you ride one. I now ride my father’s CB250N Superdream which is so well behaved.
Stuart Webb