It was deepest winter, it was dark, I had just had a hard day in work, it had just stopped snowing and started to rain. I was cold to my bones and I still had to clean the GS850 when I got home. So when I was invited into a warm house and given hot coffee and chocolate biscuits I nearly forgot why I was there...
In the garage stood a mangy Suzuki GSX250, rust was bursting through everywhere and the chain looked like it belonged in an outside toilet. The only good thing was the barn door fairing. The fairing kept all the rain off and I could feel some heat rising from the engine. I must admit I was sold on it, but not at £280 - I offered £200 which was accepted only after I'd walked to the end of his driveway.
The bike had been dealer serviced before he sold it, so all through the winter I did not look at the engine. In fact, I never cleaned it or lifted the seat or tank once. By the end of the winter the top speed had dropped from 95 to 80mph.
It was only when the exhaust rusted through that I decided to have a look at it. The chain, never adjusted, could be lifted off the sprocket and moved around by hand. The spark plugs had worn down so much that you could not see the centre electrode. The front brakes had rusted in place. A whole weekend was spent doing it back up. The exhaust was held together by rust and fell off when I touched it. New plugs, chain, sprockets, oil change and even a new filter.
The brake pads proved to be much harder to do. Much elbow grease was spent on freeing them. All the rust on the frame was left as it had got no worse but the mudguard was showing signs of imminent disintegration. That was all the attention the bike received in 10,000 miles.
The bike itself was always reliable. It started first time every time come winter or summer, rain, snow or cold. After my weekend of loving attention it rewarded me with a speed of 90mph once more and stopped well. It frequently had the balls revved off it, especially when I was late for work. However, the Motad I fitted caused a huge flat spot between 4 and 5000rpm. This meant the six speed box had to be used constantly to keep up with bigger bikes.
For a 250 it handled very well. I could easily lean it over far enough to smash the fairing into the tarmac, which resulted eventually in wet feet as the fairing wore away. Tyre wear is virtually non-existent with AM21s fitted but chain wear is excessive - perhaps I should adjust it more than once a month.
Another consumable is the clutch pushrod oil seal. You're supposed to do a total engine strip to get it out but I pulled mine out with a screwdriver and whacked a new one in with gasket seal on the inside.
My neglect came to light when it went for a MOT. I knew that there were many faults with the bike but not that many! Most of the faults could be sorted out easily and the bike scraped through. A second winter saw the end of the alternator, a common fault, which took out the regulator/rectifier and the battery. I could see this would be an expensive business so went to work on my GS850 until I started to miss the fairing in the cold and rain. Rewound alternator, used regulator/rectifier and a new battery sorted that.
I had now done 30,000 miles on the bike and looked at it about six times. I lost track of oil changes so I just waited for the oil light to come on and then did it. In fact, I was once chasing my brother home along the motorway when the oil light came on and stayed on. I had two choices, stop or keep on thrashing it. By the time we got home the engine was melting and it took three litres of oil to cool it down.
Probably due to my total lack of interest in maintenance, the bike developed a minor oil leak which meant I had a total loss oil system, so there was no need to do oil changes any more.The second MOT brought to light a major fault. The swinging arm bearings were shot. On collecting a set of new bearings the dealer offered to do the job for £25. I told him to get lost and he told me I would have some difficulty. And I did. It was bloody impossible to do. In the end I smashed the swinging arm about so much that I had to cut up a can to act as shims around the bearings. Laugh if you must, but it passed. Also the mudguard fell off on the way to the MOT.
So that's where I am today. With a bike that looks like a dog, gets treated worse and serves me like a faithful hound. I love that cycle and I will be very sad when it goes to that great scrapyard in the sky. My old man has always said the more you look after something, the more it lets you down and my bike is living proof of the reverse. I have done some 35000 miles on the old girl and spent, in total, about £200 on parts over three years. I would certainly get another one should one come up at the right price.
Lance Astley-Jones
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First impressions of the bike were physical size - the GSX250 is a tall bike with wide bars, although the weight is about usual for its class. Next impression was quality of finish. I had the blue model which looked the business, the paint heavily lacquered giving a good gloss, the chrome and alloy sparkled.
As the bike was new it had to be painstakingly run in. A six speed box is fitted so the maximum revs allowed for running in gave a bearable speed in top, although I kept getting lost in the gearbox. In all, I liked it save that the cornering was weird until I discovered that the dealer had got the wheels out of alignment. After that it could be handled with a degree of ease, once some speed was up, that belied its large size. It's also usefully narrow for riding in traffic jams.
Performance was good if not up to the stroker opposition, with a top speed in the high eighties. Acceleration, too, was fairly good and fuel consumption was always in the high sixties. Where it lost out was on the motorway, where headwinds and steep inclines needed use of fourth gear to break the speed limit. Luckily, the gearbox was smooth and slick and it was no trouble to play tunes on the box and clutchless changes did not cause any disturbing noises.
Brakes, a single front disc with a sensible rear drum, were well up to the job and never caused me any concern. The forks were stiff enough to preclude either excessive dive or massive twisting when the single disc was applied. It was difficult to lock up the back wheel, even with the less than perfect Jap tyres which had a tendency to slip in the wet.
Stability was good right up to the top speed, although very bumpy roads would cause the back end to hop all over the place, but the bike's light enough to heave back onto line when it tries to go its own way. Even though the rear shocks were not well damped, the bike still felt safe for most of the time. A set of Konis would probably make it as good as the British stuff.
So far so good, but at just three thousand miles I found an oil leak near the gearbox sprocket. I immediately suspected the output shaft but it was in fact the clutch pushrod seal - the seal is fitted from inside the engine! Suzuki did modify it later so it could be replaced without a total bottom end strip!
The back tyre was worn out at 7000 miles, the exhausts were rotted by 10,000 miles, the chrome front guard and alloy wheels corroded at a ridiculous rate despite application of Solvol and elbow grease. The motor, itself, a DOHC vertical twin, a sort of smaller version of the 450, was reliability itself, humming along vibration free whether flat out or through town. I had the feeling that I could thrash along all day flat out without any concern for engine reliability. However, imposition of the 125 law meant that values of 250s were set to plunge so I exchanged it for a 550 when I could still get a decent price for it.
Phil Gooding
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One of my best friends ran a GSX250 from new for six years and 60,000 miles. Then he handed the damn thing over to me. As the engine was still running, the MOT still valid and I had to get to work every day there was no choice but to swing a leg over the still shiny iron horse. I knew that the only maintenance he'd dealt with was the oil and weekly polishing sessions.
The first few rides were quite interesting. The DOHC twin was gutless below 6000rpm and didn't want to run above 8000rpm. I put this down to the rusted through silencers. The front brake needed an almighty wrench before anything much happened, then the disc squealed in protest. I put that down to half seized calipers. The handling was fine up to 60mph, when weaves and wobbles came it as if the tubular frame was breaking up. I put that down to shot swinging arm bearings.
Some work needed, I cajoled myself. A couple of weeks commuting went by before I got around to a serious renovation session. Because of the lack of revs, fuel was 70mpg but voracious oil consumption made up for that. It was seeping out of the cylinder head gasket and clutch mechanism seal. A secondhand Motad was the major expense at £30 but the most difficult task was knocking the swinging arm spindle out. I had to use some washers as well as new bearings to tighten up the back end.
The Motad allowed the engine to rev out to ten grand, with most of the power coming in at 6500rpm. I was immediately taken with its turn of speed. Whilst the new swinging arm bearings stopped the worst of the weaves and wobbles, the speed revealed the suspension as being shot. The whole bike oscillated on the shot springs, above 70mph it left me feeling sea-sick!
Then the chain broke. It had needed a daily adjustment but wasn't so snatchy that it upset the still good gearbox action. Having a chain whack into the back of my leg whilst I was pottering along at a mindless 70mph certainly woke me up. I went from a state of contentment to agony in a matter of moments. I knew there was a good reason to fit the chainguard back on, but it had rattled so much that I hadn't bothered. Luckily, I was wearing boots, about six inches of leather was cut open, absorbing a lot of chainsaw action, which left a couple of inches of opened skin flapping around.
It f..king hurt, anyway. I only just stopped myself from passing out and a cager, who pulled over to find out what all the hollering was about, took me to the hospital. NHS cuts meant, after an hour or two of screaming abuse at the nurses, it was dabbed viciously with what felt like acid and then stitched up by some burly nurse who seemed to be using knitting needles. The scar is quite impressive!
I hobbled out of the hospital, having temporarily repaired my boot with insulation tape, and took a taxi back to the bike with a new length of chain in hand. I feared that vandals would've descended on the abandoned machine but it was still intact. I rode home in third gear, with massive clutch slip, as it was too painful to change gear. The new chain lasted all of 600 miles! The sprockets were shot, a new chain and sprocket set needed.
The first couple of months were during an astonishingly dry summer, as soon as the rain started I found out why the previous owner had to clean it every week. Just a slight bit of water turned the alloy white, amazingly deep layers of corrosion. I soon gave up, the wheels were almost impossible to clean up once the corrosion got a grip on them. By then the engine had done 65000 miles and I didn't think it would keep going for much longer.
To deal with winter riding I purchased a secondhand Rickman full fairing. A horrible looking thing that was so well made it must've weighed almost as much as the GSX. The first time I picked it up I knew I'd have to fix the front forks with some heavy duty springs and treacle-like oil. A pair of ancient Girlings with ultra-stiff springs were fitted out back. A quick ride around the block, without the fairing, revealed suspension movement on a par with a vintage bike but once the fairing was bodged on (the fittings were for some other bike) they worked quite well.
The fairing was such a huge wedge that the Suzuki wouldn't put more than 75mph on the clock (compared with 90mph on the naked bike) and fuel dropped from 65 to 50mpg, but come the winter I could motor serenely through the worst downpour and the coldest of weather. The lack of speed was no great loss in the winter as the roads were too treacherous to do much more than 60mph.
As soon as it started raining it became necessary to dump the square section Avons, they squirmed all over damp roads and leaning over was like falling off the edge of a cliff. A set of Metz's made a massive improvement to stability and made the 400lbs easier to flick around, even with the horrendous weight of the fairing out front.
With all that weight the single front disc was given a real work-out. I had a spare set of calipers, had to change them over every other month as they seemed to seize at the merest hint of a salted road. The rear drum was very jerky but a determined stamp would lock the back wheel up.
Halfway through the winter the engine started to misfire. Every time I tried to check it the mill ran perfectly. It seemed to be one of those transient problems that I'd have to wait to intensify before I could fix it. The misfiring was confined to less than 5000rpm, so there was always the option of caning the bike in the lower gears, with the lovely resonant howl out of the Motad.
It wasn't until the spring, with an amazing 71000 miles on the clock (I was changing the oil every 750 miles but not doing any other maintenance), that I tracked down the source of the misfiring to sticking carbs. They were so worn that I had to put on a used set (£27.50). The misfiring had become cutting out, which had me twirling the engine over on the starter for a couple of minutes before the mill fired up.
The last time the motor cut out it was in a fast flowing stream of traffic with cars behind me and to each side. Clutch pulled in, foot gently pumping the brake lever to get the stop-light flashing, I rolled to a halt, the cars behind pulling up but those on both sides roaring past. The engine rumbled over on the starter whilst horns blared and angry fists were shook at me. Some huge monster came out of the car behind me, waddling towards me like he was going to tear me apart when the engine finally caught and we screamed off up the road, leaving a layer of rubber as evidence of our passing. I certainly couldn't go on like that.
The frame and tank paint, except where it'd been worn away by my knees, was in good shape. The engine, wheels and exhaust were wrecked by an excess of corrosion. The engine was difficult to start when cold, rattled and creaked, but was still powerful enough to see off most cages. It was too good to dump but looked too nasty to off-load for a decent wedge.
Spring weather meant I could tear off the fairing. The bike felt completely different, the taut suspension and free revving engine made it feel just a couple of years old. I enjoyed myself immensely throwing the GSX around my favourite country lanes, taking huge chunks of tarmac out of the road with the centrestand prong. The compact chassis was as good for back road madness as it was for frightening cagers in town.
Then the swinging arm bearings went for the second time. The bike was due for another chain, rear tyre and set of pads. No way I was going to spend that kind of money on such an old bike. The swinging arm only had sideways play so extra washers fixed that. The square section Avons, about half worn, were put back on and a used set of pads and chain found in the breakers.
When the battery started going flat I was glad I hadn't bought new consumables. The acid was an inch below the minimum level (I'd never checked it before...), some water and a couple of hours on the charger had things back to normal. For a while......I found it needed a boost on the charger twice a week. That was without using the lights too much, riding for fifty miles with them turned on would have the engine stuttering until the lights were turned off. There was just enough power coming out of the alternator to power the ignition. There was always the fear that if I turned off the engine there wouldn't be sufficient charge left in the battery to turn over starter.
By the time 75000 miles were done I was on the lookout for a replacement, the engine rattles hinting that the camchain was about to break and the smoke out of the exhaust that the oil rings had already worn out. It was still good for 80mph and I had few qualms about using the power band in the first couple of gears.
My friend was amazed that the little Suzuki had lasted so long, having bought a Honda CBX550 that blew up on him in 4000 miles he was cursing his foolish largesse. I annoyed him even more when I picked up a 20,000 mile engine for £80 in a private deal. I actually bought a whole bike, but it was so smashed up that the motor was the only thing worth saving. Apart from a couple of engine bolts that snapped the transplant went without incident and I had given my rat a new lease of life. The original engine, on examination, was on the verge of wrecking its crank and pistons whilst the valves were halfway through their seats. Shows how tough it was, to run like that.
Adrian Dee