The 1984 model had three owners before it came into my hands in 1990. With 14000 miles up it looked like all three had been devoted to its needs, that unique sheen that comes from religious polishing. The engine rustled rather than rattled. Even the exhaust system was original, with neither signs of rust nor cracks. The only disheartening aspect was that all the consumables were due for replacement.
At least that didn't include a chain as the bike had the major benefit of shaft drive. I had lots of fun mastering the techniques necessary to deal with the intricacies of the shaft. I like to start the day with a wheelie, something that the dynamics of the chassis seemed most averse at trying. About 12000 revs and a dead clutch drop worked if you didn’t mind dislocated shoulders and a few shattered windows, not to mention side panels that did a runner due to the rather intense secondary vibes. It took a while to become used to the directness of the shaft.
The GT wasn't heavily tuned, only 60 horses. That’s in the context of 500lbs plus rider to shift. It could be made to move fast, at the price of burnt clutch plates (I went through four sets in 50000 miles). Or around 50000 miles as the speedo cable broke every other month and I used to ride without one for a while. The rest of the engine has a reputation for toughness, if you exclude the notorious electrics. Mine leaked chronically from the head gasket and gave valve trouble at 32000 miles.
Most of that was caused by the way I revved into the red at every opportunity and didn’t do any maintenance to the eight valve/DOHC set-up. As this was the only way to make the bike shift faster than a 400 twin it seemed quite acceptable behaviour and I’ve never been one for regular maintenance.
I found it disappointing that |Icouldn't alter the gearing as it was on the tall side. Short of riding off the top of a cliff, there was no way the GT would rev out in top gear. The solution to the burnt out valves was to give the local breaker/mechanic ninety quid to tear off the old head and replace it with a used one. I had hoped to pick up a 650 Katana top end, which with 75 horses is much more entertaining. The only one I found had big bits missing out of its hotter cams. The breaker reckoned that the roller bearing crankshaft had broken up in a big way (I’m not sure if one could break up in a small way)
I didn't buy the Katana because for all its butch looks the riding position’s inexcusably uncomfortable. I don’t think my wedding tackle would survive such abuse! The GT was well laid out in the traditional manner, came with the benefit of a very cushy non-standard seat. 300 miles in a sitting might have been possible but I never found out due to the range being good for less than 150 miles. Reserve only worked intermittently which made for an excess of funny moments. Like almost being run down by cages and have to do the gravel dance.
The steering geometry was mild, tending towards keeping the bike stable in a straight line rather than letting it ease around corners. As with any old style across the frame four a lot of the mass is carried high, which makes for easy wobbles in low speed corners. Both the stands and the exhaust can grate into the tarmac when the bike's forced over in such corners.
For those moments when I’m really bored I keep leaning it over until something digs in and the rear tyre pivots off the ground. I’ve always managed to pivot it back up. It definitely needs muscle and luck. Various bits of the bike fell off, from guards through to pieces of the engine. A combination of vibes and fatigue from old age. Bodging was the order of the day, the pristine appearance soon becoming that of an ancient rat. If any of the past owners had seen the state of the bike they would've strung me up. Cleaning came once a year with the beginning of spring. Engine alloy was the greatest casualty.
The brakes are owed a whole book of their own. In a way I just feel sad about the whole experience of the twin front discs. I went through three used sets, a mixture of rotted calipers, cracked discs and exploding fluid. Weirdly, I had one set of front discs last a whole 27000 miles with just a couple of pad changes. EBCs felt both the most responsive and lasted longest. Braking was never in stoppie territory but with a bit of excess hand muscle I usually pulled up with space to spare.
Usually! There was the time when a car came speeding out of a driveway. It was such a peaceful summer's day out in the country that I quite forgot my violent streak. I saw out of the corner of my eye rather than heard the auto streaming out fast. I hit the brakes so hard that for the first time ever the wheels locked up. It wasn’t enough and we piled into the rear end of the car at about 25mph. Mr Cager was most astonished to find my front end embedded in his car... even more shocked to find himself being kicked half to death by an enraged biker. It took his whole family to pull me off. The police weren't called as I was bleeding just as profusely from my wounds as he was from my kicking.
GS650GTs aren't as common as many GS models but there’s no reason why bits off other models can't be fitted. I quite happily put on a nearly new GS850GT front end, although the brakes were just as short-lived as the smaller bike’s and the forks even looser. I only kept that front end for about three months until a GSX1100 set-up became available. Strangely, the braking was very poor, causing several near misses until I reverted to a refurbished 650 front end. A crack in one of the GSX’s calipers helped solve that mystery.
Suspension looseness showed up in the amount of clearance I needed to leave between gaps, as much as a foot at the ton. Braking also made the machine veer towards the camber of the road. In the wet white-lining came in with a vengeance, I even aquaplaned under really effusive conditions on worn out Avons. Tyre life was so unimpressive, not much more than 5000 miles, that I seemed to spend a good half of the time on bald tyres.
Shouting a pile of expletives at the cops when they pulled me over in this state was wholly ineffective but it didn’t matter because I had no permanent address. Squatting tends to bring out the worst in human beings (there’s a joke in there somewhere). I did consider stealing a number from a similar GT to add to the confusion but in the end decided the Swansea computer would catch me out unless I ascertained the owner’s name, address, date of birth and inside leg measurement.
On which, the GT was nicely close to the ground for those verging on midget stature, although it does need a lot of leg muscle if it goes off the vertical at a standstill. Dragging discs and excess mass makes it a real bugger to pull out of the kerb when parked up. It’s made me so violent on occasions that I’ve come close to knee-capping traffic wardens. The other major item of potential aggro, of course, are the electrics.
Screaming at them does no good, neither does tearing out all the rotted wiring. It doesn’t make them any worse. The theory that old engine oil lets the engine overheat and destroy the alternator might hold sway as I left my oil for at least 5000 miles. Why not? The gearbox was still slick despite the shaft drive. Just about every electrical component was rebuilt or replaced. Two or three times! Even Superdream components didn't last long.
Such nastiness has to be expected on any of the GS series but as long as you can recognize the initial signs (flat battery and blowing fuses) it’s not impossible to fix. I still have I the GT, mainly because I can't be bothered to clean it up enough to attract a decent price. It's replacement is another Suzuki, a GSXR1100 — best defined as vile and violent. After all, we're very well matched.
There are very few nice GTs left on the road, most of them have done the 65000 miles their designers envisaged as a reasonable life. Even before such a heady mileage, many components failed, especially when they are ridden hard and routinely neglected. It’s much more likely that mine will end up in the breakers than be completely rebuilt. It doesn’t do anything brilliantly but for the moment it’ll make an adequate winterhack.
K Dwight