One dry and pleasant evening the seed of hope was cast. I heard the throb of a twin cylinder four stroke engine pull up outside the house. I peeked out of the window, the rider dismounted to reveal a small, clean red Suzuki GS250T, and knocked at my front door. My brother-in-law calling to show off his new toy. I grabbed his keys and helmet before he had a chance to speak. The riding position was comfortable and the handling was reasonably linear. Pulling power and top end were nothing to write about compared with many bikes I'd previously ridden, so I won't.
Despite only being a mild 250, after such a long absence, the grin factor was huge. I returned the bike to its rightful owner. I didn’t want to push my luck, no tax or insurance - bit silly on my part. Before he left the owner promised me first refusal on the Suzi if he decided to sell. I waited patiently for several months. “You can have it for two hundred and eighty pounds.” Less eighty pounds he owed me for an Amstrad computer. He settled for an old disco unit and four monthly payments of £25. The joys of a having a large family and no work. So, I had my wheels, insurance by instalments and robbing the mortgage money for road tax - you must always get your priorities right. I was finally back on the road. Hedge owners and farmers beware.
Being a Japanese custom, the GS looks a little strange until parked next to a Harley when it looks bloody ridiculous. I’d also heard a rumour that GS250T bikes and their riders tend to get lobbed into dykes by Hells Angels. I found this to be untrue, they just point and laugh loudly. I could handle the derision. I was mobile and that’s what counts.
As I mentioned before, the bike handled well, it even managed a top speed of 86mph on a good day. According to the UMG, top whack was eighty, so I was reasonably impressed. Carrying a pillion was another story. If the passenger weighed eight stone or less it was OK. Over the eight stone limit made the bike handle like a GL500 Silver Wing with a flat rear tyre at 80mph. Believe me, I know what I’m taking about. Due to custom bars, the riding position’s extreme sit-up-and-beg. Fine solo, but, two-up, severe backache for both rider and pillion. Oh well, most bikes have some faults.
Suddenly, the bike started to turn heads when I rode it. Had the GS suddenly become a status symbol? No, it had developed a two inch long hole in the Motad silencer. Sounded just like a real motorcycle, although the GS250T transfers on the panels gave the game away. Three hours later the transfers and graphics on the engine covers had been erased. Great fun popping into town, parking in the square and watching the old gits who used to ride Bantams attempting to guess the cubic capacity.
The pretence of a large bike was short-lived, the MOT was fast approaching and the knackered exhaust would fail with a little help from the follicularly challenged rear tyre. Time to rob the mortgage money. Ninety bloody quid for a two into one! I was shocked, the last exhaust I purchased was a universal silencer for £20 brand new. I was not impressed.
Within 24 hours of the bad news I learnt of a GS250 in bits. I bought this and fitted a perfectly legal Motad from out of the pile of parts. A quick trip to the local dealer secured a rear Cheng Shin. Someone told me that Cheng Shin was Japanese for Shitty Grip. Could be true but I’ve yet come off. The bike passed its MOT and I had a shed full of spare parts.
Summer metamorphosed into Autumn and then early winter. A short journey to the in-laws, left the bike outside when it rained and came out to find it refused to start. No kick start so the small battery was soon flat. I was driven home in the car with a dead battery. Trickle charge (high charging rates halves battery life) and two rainy days later I managed to start the bike. Within two days it happened again. Once more the battery went back on charge but to no avail. The battery was dead: I was skint, the bike sat outside the house, catching corrosive rain, sleet and snow over many weeks.
Christmas and New Year had passed, spring was coming closer. Time to fix the bike, sell it whilst there was still six months tax and MOT. I picked up a new Jap battery for sixteen notes. Battery installed, I pressed the button - nothing. I cleaned all the earth points, then came the big black cloud shaped like a Volvo, rain stopped play for a fortnight.
Finally, when the weather broke, using my limited mechanical skills and equipment, I located the problem - the starter motor. Only two screws to remove for access. Unfortunately to take it out the camchain tensioner has to be removed. I hate Japanese bike designers, I bet they never do home maintenance. I replaced the starter with the spare one from the pile of bits, hit the button and she spluttered into life. Not bad for someone who knows little and only had the Haynes manual for help.
Suddenly, the engine powered up to five grand on the tacho. I punched the choke off and she dived to one and a half before next door’s dog pissed himself. The engine shot up to six thou. I hit the kill switch before half the neighbourhood descended on me with pickaxe handles. After a few adjustment and squirting some oil in likely places, she started and ticked over at 1500rpm. Time for a test ride.
Five minutes later I returned. The damn thing was now idling at 4000 revs. I was not a happy chap. Over the next couple of weeks, weather permitting, I tried everything I could think of - new fuel, more adjustments, clean air filter and carb strip and clean; all to no avail. Time to call on the professionals, in this case the best mechanic in the area. After weeks of hair pulling, nightmares and a near nervous breakdown, he solved the problem - a combination of carb settings, two different resistance plug caps (both incorrect) and a crack in the top of the engine. The mechanic looked pained when I told him he'd have any future business and a month later he’d moved out of the area!
Since this little set back I have picked up another GS in boxes for fifty quid. You can never have too many spares. I decided to build one good bike out of all the spares, in the front room of the house. I ended up with a mean looking 250 with a light metallic blue Hammerite frame and a denim clad tank. Unfortunately, the forks and clutch were knackered. I was so impressed with the special, though, I decided to replicate its colour scheme on the roadworthy machine. I used all the decent parts from the second machine that I’d spent all my time cleaning, polishing and painting. Only problem was a dirty mark on the denim clad petrol tank, which turned out to be a petrol leak. I had to revert to the original dark red tank and panels, a contrast against the blue that made me look like a particularly deranged West Ham fan!
Several days later I hit the road with the revised machine. The large custom bars replaced with small standard bars from a GP100. The instruments and idiots stripped out of their stupid plastic surround and remounted. Front headlight brackets replaced with alloy. GS spoked wheels replaced with GSX mags, with a Dunlop trials tyre on the bigger back wheel. The tank and panels were painstakingly covered in rock cuttings from magazines, edged in black and lacquered. The effect quite eyecatching. Then I took it for a 30 mile test ride the grin factor increased dramatically.
Not only does the GS turn heads, she performs as well. The narrower, lower bars helps with feedback from the road as well as letting me get my head down. Less tall gearing, by using the spare bike’s sprockets, has helped throttle response. The icing on the cake came when a Triumph 900 turned up on the country roads near my home. If I'd chested the tank, she’d have hit 95mph, she reached 89mph with me upright. After six miles I was still with him until he turned off!
lan Peter Welch