I should’ve known better because I knew the road well, knew that there was a 400 yard patch of neglected swervery. Bumps, potholes, horse shit... you name it! But I was well away in a boy racer fantasy, something emphasized by hitting 135mph on one of the long straights. Given that the GSX only makes 85 horses at 11000rpm that was a pretty frantic business.
When the bike hit the rough patch we were already well leaned over. I only weigh ten stone, hadn't really found the suspension that soft, although the GSX series was reputed to have a bit of a mushy ride. The bumps had the suspension bottoming out just as I was hauling over to change direction. Then the undercarriage was scraping along the tarmac, the back wheel trying to hop off the road. The whole feeling was very disconcerting because |I’d gone from a ride of sublime confidence to feeling like I was riding on a donkey with a firework shoved up its backside.
With heroic - alright, desperate - reactions I pulled the Suzuki upright, slammed on the brakes and, er, closed my eyes as we plowed off the road into a hedge. I opened my eyes to find the GSX and myself firmly wedged and enveloped in a huge hedgerow. I had to climb up on the seat, turn around and do a Superman-type leap back on to the road.
The GSX refused to budge when I pulled on its back wheel. It took four of us, some hours later, to pull her out, and then only after hacking away a large amount of the ancient hedgerow (probably illegal but I was fucked if I was going to let it swallow up my only means of transport). The front wheel was bent and the whole paint scheme ruined, which was kind of OK as it wasn’t too attractive and a mate did the business in British Racing Green.
The GSX had only 7000 miles on the clock when this happened. Admittedly, I was trying to ride like I was on an RD350LC and the bike was running on barely legal OE Dunlops, which would do some funny things in the wet. The set of Avons that replaced them were brilliant (rear 5000, front 7500 miles) but obviously did little to help the springs over rough going, although under extremis the tyre skipping was much less pronounced.
This poor suspension shows that some corners have been cut to get the price down and that the GSX ain't up to the ultimate standard of the 600 class leader. For the vast majority of the time it’s very good and if you don't ride like a young hoodlum you won't find anything to complain about and may even come to the conclusion that it’s a brilliant bike. I modified my riding techniques a bit after the hedgerow experience and didn’t fall off again.
It was an earthing some six months later, with 15000 miles under its wheels, when the rear suspension’s bearings wore out. The steel wraparound frame might be strong but it wasn’t strong enough to damp out the back wheel wobbles and I went home at 5 to 10mph. There weren't any nipples for greasing the bearings (admittedly, this was the first time I looked) which meant everything was ruined and took a full weekend to sort out.
The GSX was supposed to be serviced every 3500 miles. I changed the lubricant every 2000 miles, the oil filter every 4000 miles, when I also balanced the carbs, but only handed the bike over to a dealer every 7000 miles to do the valves (£60). When I went to change the spark plugs | was annoyed by the hassle involved... an hour to get the stuff off, another half hour to replace it. Makes you yearn for 70’s superbikes. I'd replaced the spark plugs (and caps) because the bike was misfiring and cutting out in the wet.
Cynics might say that a bike with a reputation for blandness has to do something exciting to liven up its rider's day, but every time the cylinders chimed back in and the wheel snaked all over the place I felt my heart flutter and years taken off my life expectancy. The new plugs and caps helped but water was being thrown off the skimpy front guard, a mere five minutes in the wet covering the machine in slime. Cans of WD40 combined with a better guard saw off the worst of the cutting out, although the odd misfire could still turn up. Test ride one of these bikes in the wet if at all possible as some bikes are OK, others pretty terminal.
I suspected the Suzuki's electrics, having previously gone crazy trying to fix a GS750 with a blown alternator and rectifier. Confirmed, to my mind, by the way the front and rear bulbs would blow. I could go for months without any hassles, then go through several sets of bulbs in a week. There was probably a loose wire somewhere but it was impossible to track down. At 21000 miles I put in a new rectifier/regulator after the battery burnt off all its acid in an afternoon. The GSX series are much better than the GS with regards to electrics but I’d be careful of high mileage examples.
The same can’t be said of the engine, which derived from the air/oil cooled GSXR750, is plenty tough enough and can withstand lots of neglect. The plastic, rather than absorbing the motor’s noise, amplifies every sound until it resembles a 60000 mile XS650 (to those innocent of such devices imagine enough knocks, rattles and taps to make earplugs compulsory). Don’t be put off by this as it’s not so noticeable from the saddle and bears no relation to engine condition. Interestingly, people who wheelie GSX600s tend to break wheels, chassis bearings and their own bones rather than the engine!
The GSX is supposed to be aimed towards sports-touring, and everything’s fine for the rider... when I took this cute little girl on the back, who was abnormally well tempered, she ended up, after 40 miles, screaming abuse, demanding to be taken to the nearest railway station. Taking a large biker was even nastier as he ended up half on the saddle and half on the grab rail, grumbling away about stupid Suzukis and my own failings as a biker, man, friend, etc. He ended up falling off the back after I slammed on the brakes and rolled the throttle hard in second. He had enough fat to avoid any indignity and didn’t hit me when I burst into laughter.
The GSX is cheap, fast and generally cheerful. It’s not perfect but it’s good enough for me. I’ve still got mine with 32000 miles on the clock and have adapted to its handling foibles.
L. B. D.