The same old shit, thought I. The heavyweight 900 four was reluctant to waltz through the capital's idiotic traffic. Gaps were too narrow or too tight. I actually had to wait in line on a few occasions. My pillion chanted insults at my ineptitude, didn't help by bobbing about like he had ants in his pants. The big Diversion ticked over with a great sense of calm and, I have to admit, fitted well between my legs.
There was also bags of low rev torque, allowed the bike to hurtle into gaps that opened up. I could've done with touch more power from the front discs, although at least there were two of them rather than the wholly inadequate single front disc on its 600 sibling. General smoothness and civility were what you'd expect on a modern bike; God knows there was enough mass to soak up any secondary vibes.
After making it out of London, I settled the XJ down on the M1. Speed was simply a matter of dialling in the throttle and relaxing behind the stylish and adequately protective half fairing. 100mph was like ticking over, 120mph no problem. Thereafter, acceleration became rather slow, until with 135mph on the clock some secondary vibes crept into the pegs and bars; a sure sign that it was time to back off.
These might seem excessive speeds, but most of the cages were running along at 90 to 100mph; the way the bike would pick up at the ton and slam up to 120mph most welcome when some cage became unpredictable. One of the great benefits of a large capacity bike is that the presence of a fat pillion doesn't make much difference to the performance. And even the excessive mass of the two of us failed to ruin the 6000 mile old suspension.
I'd borrowed the bike off an old mate for a trek up to good old Glasgow, where both the pillion and I had a tasty bit of crumpet! What is known as complicating one's life. The XJ900 owner had actually told me to give it a good thrashing as he reckoned the motor was bullet-proof. One reason for this was that we had another mate who had destruction tested one for 70,000 miles in a year and the damn thing still ticked over like new!
The Diversion's well equipped for long distance touring. Good basic stability, mostly down to the relatively low centre of gravity from the top end of the motor being aggressively thrust forward. Comfy saddle, complemented by a relaxed riding position and half fairing. An excellent shaft drive, although modern O-ring chains don't need much attention. And a general feeling of a well put together machine. Inspires belief in its ability to soak up the miles.
The big flaw's its excessive mass at 530lbs, something out of the seventies. Even 50lbs heavier than the old 900, although it hides its mass much better than the older bike, only really being a hassle in town when the cages are so jam-packed that you'd be better off on a bicycle. This mass is all very strange given that the similarly styled 600 weighs around 400lbs, and surely it would've made much more sense to bore out the 600 from a production point of view. The only sane rationalisation of this conundrum's that the 600's actually an overbored 400, the latter the main buzz in the restricted Japanese market.
Yamaha quote 85hp at 8500 revs for the 900 against a mere 60 horses for the 600 at the same revs (the 400 makes 42hp at 10,000rpm, by the way). 85hp for a 900 four ain't much but then the Yam has an aircooled, eight valve motor; this simplicity much of its appeal. It's just a pity that it doesn't add up to a low mass!
The steady drone up the M1 was only relieved by the need to stop for fuel. The bike has a big 24 litre tank, giving a range of only 150 miles because fuel consumption was quite high at 35mpg at the ton. Thrashed to the limit that dived to 25mpg whilst town riding gave around 45mpg, which was what it'd average if ridden within the limits of the law. These figures are what you'd expect from a modern motorcycle, but hardly inspiring for someone who wants to do lots of long distance touring. Tyres and pads last for over 7500 miles, which, again, is better than some but ain't exactly brilliant.
Later, I tried the bike on A-roads. It swung through the bends without a murmur of protest when solo, but there was a bit of undercarriage scraping two-up. Acceleration in top in the 70 to 120mph range was pretty good, no real need to go berserk on the gearbox. The bike was always relaxing to ride, allowing the rider to set his own pace rather than edging him on to further acts of insanity. I felt it was quite possible that the bike would outlast faster replicas, eat up the mileage whilst their riders were squirming in agony during rest stops.
Even the tighter country roads that Scotland revels in could be taken with relative ease, just so long as you had some upper body strength. Wimps might be in a little trouble in the tighter corners, though I have seen one woman hurtling an XJ through London traffic like she knew what she was doing. No doubt a little bit of skill might overcome a lack of muscle, though it's surely better to have both.
The only time I was really unhappy with the Diversion was when I swung around a bend to find two cars taking up the whole of the carriageway. I had an instant to adjust the Yam's trajectory, decided on edge of the road. The lunge left the bike wallowing on its suspension, and the grass verge had the wheels seesawing madly. The 500lbs of mass suddenly bit back with a vengeance, and I thought she was going to go completely out of control.
I lost some speed by battering the left-hand side of the bike into some bushes and slamming the throttle shut. The shaft drive reaction tried to bounce me out of the seat but I somehow managed to hang on. When we came to a halt, the motor stalled as if in protest and the bike slipped on the grass, trying to pinion me under it only I kicked free at the last moment. It was a real bugger to pull upright. Damage was merely a few scratches!
That was okay, only in the initial wrench, or maybe pulling the bike upright, I did my back in. Had heavy pains shooting up my spine. I sped back down the motorway at top speed to get it all over with as soon as possible. By the time I hit London I could barely stand upright and had to stagger off to the doctor's, which was the usual waste of time. I fancied a deep massage, at the very least, but ended up with some painkillers.
Despite much abuse on the throttle the Diversion ticked over like new, hadn't used a drop of oil and gave me the impression that it would do a round the world trek without any problems. If you can take the mass and running costs, it'd make a damn good tourer, but if you only want to do mild miles, especially solo, then the 600 might be the better buy.
Dick Lewis