The cause of this sickness was the ownership of a fast and highly reliable RD250 which I’d sold because, like all addiction, I needed a bigger fix; the RD was neither fast nor wild enough. What I really needed was one of Kawasakis good time triples, which, unfortunately, were gaining classic status and out of my financial reach. I tried various four strokes but couldn’t get the idea of a screaming triple out of my mind; finally, almost desperately, I went for a Suzuki GT380.
By today’s standards the GT is really quite basic and lacks any kind of integrated styling - bits look like they have been bunged on from other machines just to use up excess stocks. Peculiar and tacky chrome airbox covers combine with a massive rear light to destroy any semblance of neatness and logical form. The strange cowling on the cylinder head looks purposeless and gimmicky, but judging by the legend printed upon it does have some function in the sheep breeding industry. The nicest thing that you could say about the styling of the 380 is that it just doesn’t have any.
By the time the bike was made, switchgear had advanced to the stage where it worked well and, er, fell to hand. The gear indicator was a particular Suzuki feature but I was unable to experience the visual feast as it didn’t work anymore. Riding position is typical '70s, with the rider sitting up like a human sail and the foot-pegs too far forward, making high speed work areal pain. Single front disc didn’t work in the wet and needed regular (800 mile) stripdowns, although the rear brake was a commendably usable drum.
The engine was based on a simple enough 371cc piston ported two stroke triple, but being a triple means that all the oil pipes required for the Posilube system make strip downs a real pain. In standard form the engine puts out about 35hp at 7500rpm, but unlike most two strokes of the period there is plenty of low to mid-range pulling power and no power band. This makes the six speed box a bit over the top as four or five gears are all that’s really necessary.
With these power characteristics and a mass of 400lbs, the 380 is definitely no rocketship with a top speed of just 100mph. Of course, I didn’t consider any of this, all I could see was the three cylinders. My particular example was in good shape and had obviously been garaged all its life. There were only 18000 miles on the clock and I hoped it would run to fifty grand, like the old GT500 without too many problems. Apart from the dead indicator switch, the only other fault was a sticking front disc which required two strip downs before it worked properly.
After a week outside in the rain, the chrome wat streaked and spotted with brown; it was obviously going to look a mess unless cleaned weekly, it was really the very worst chrome I’ve come across. Out of the road the performance can best be described as boring. There was no power band no arm wrenching acceleration, just a gradual build up of power. Chasing the redline merely resulted in appalling fuel economy (20mpg although mild use gives a more acceptable 37mpg, which means cruising at under 70mph.
The frame and suspension made travelling any faster a very unpleasant experience. The forks were under-damped, flexing wildly over 70mph; when the smallest of bumps was hit the bike careered off course, often toward some massive truck! The effort needed to yank the beast into line could, and did, cause strained shoulders. The frame resembled an Access Card flexing on fast sweeping bends.
When trying for an unobtainable 100mph a weave kicked in that would become violent and frightening by 80mph, and felt like it was going to turn into a speed wobble by 90mph, but never did because the engine wouldn’t push the thing ny faster. The shocks were knackered and ust about kept the mudguard off the wheel Puch Maxi equipment probably had better damping. Obviously, the chassis and fuel consumption were designed with Peter Bottomley in mind to ensure that no-one ever broke the 70mph speed limit. Other restricting features include a centre stand that touches down far too easily and can lift the rear wheel off the ground.
This was so horrific on one occasion that I had to stop for half an hour to calm down and move the stand before I was willing to get back on. Refusing to be beaten I kept trying to force the bouncing beast round bends at ever increasing speeds. Not just tempting fate but damn stupid on one of these machines. On one particular stretch of road I know well, I tried pushing it really hard through a series of bends, resulting in the bike appearing to sink six inches, the rear wheel sliding out, the bike digging into the tarmac on its side. Picking he bike up revealed a snapped shock, bent bars and an exhaust system reduced to scrap.
Thoughts of cutting my losses were changed when I met the previous owner who offered to sell me a used set of expansion chambers for the wreck. I paid him thirty quid, but rather resented the fact that he hadn’t given them to me when I'd bought the bike. Inspired by the thought of all the power the expansion chambers were going to unleash, I added thicker oil and heavier springs to the forks and Konis on the back. I also fitted a new set of rings, a real fiddly job and I’m sure it’d be easier to do the same to a four stroke four. With the expansion chambers on I expected to just be able to kick it over.and ride off.
Thirty kicks later I realised just how ludicrously optimistic I’d been.The carbs turned out to be very weak, so new main jets were fitted (expensive). The bike then made the expected noises. To say that the new pipes transformed the GT is a gross understatement. Below five grand there was no power at all, between five and six there was enough to pull away very slowly, but between six and seven the engine would fly right up to eight and a half grand before finally running out of steam just below 9000rpm. This might sound impressive and exactly what I was looking for, but unfortunately top gear couldn’t be used and top speed was only 80mph.
Petrol consumption was a completely unacceptable 18mpg because the bike had to be thrashed all the time to stop it oiling up or stalling. The handling had improved, stable at 80mph but that frame could still be felt in the bends. Basically, the bike was useless; being overtaken by an MZ250 at 80mph was the final straw,
K & Ns sort that out, retorted the dealer, a man I didn’t altogether trust, due to the fact that he would not exchange the jets he’d sold me in the first place and he drove around in a Saab Turbo. As the £18 went into his till, I thought I heard him chuckle in a decidedly evil way. Once fitted they made no difference whatsoever - and no refund was available. After I tried reasoning with him and getting nowhere but still persisting, three spanner wielding mechanics appeared, so I left it at that.
When I could afford it, I rode the 380 but it wasn’t much fun thrashing the motor, going up and down the gearbox, just to achieve similar performance to a 125. After a couple of weeks performance disappeared until it wouldn’t pull 30mph. The centre piston had a large hole, the left a small hole and the other a very thin piston crown. I was so disgusted I just left it there to rot in the garden. I felt pretty rotten running around on a £5, Hammerite yellow, CZ175. This was such a terrible experience that I soon viewed the GT as a superb classic in need of minor restoration work.
An original but rusty exhaust came to £20 and a complete top-end was only £35 in nearly new condition. Once back together, the GT ran well and would even make the ton, the chassis improvements even stopped it from killing me. After the CZ it seemed fast and comfortable with plenty of low down torque; I began using it in its intended role as a tourer. It performed well in this role with the piss poor fuel consumption the only real complaint.
Tyres lasted for ten grand rear, twelve front, and chains between 9 and 14 grand depending on whether I changed the sprockets or not. I ran it up to 33000 miles, but from 26000 an oil seal had worn out, meaning the centre pot regularly oiled up and the gearbox oil was in constant need of topping up. Its death came when the top end rattle became loud enough to hear on the move. It was winter and I could not face another engine strip. I rode it until the small end needle bearing broke up and destructively met the big-end. That was it, the push to the council tip was tiring but it was worth it to see a bouncing, bucking GT380 somersault its way down a 150 foot bank.
Andy Everett