Seizing up a Suzuki GP100 takes a certain amount of effort. It's
not simply a matter of holding the throttle open until the piston
rings weld themselves into the bore. That's more likely to throw
you off the road from the wicked flat-out handling or vanquished
braking. The stroker single mill basically a tough little number
that treated with a modicum of respect lasts for ages.
Even thrashed by mechanically illiterate youths it takes a certain
amount of carnage, not to mention mileage, before the motor explodes.
The easy way out is to simply never fill up the oil tank but as
a connoisseur of the breed I much prefer to wring their necks
until the main bearings start to judder. A weird kind of vibration
that feels like the engine bolts are breaking up.
Only by the time the vibes begin to affect vision in third gear
- quite an achievement on a bike that's supposed to be a mild
commuter - does the engine go all plaintive, giving the rider
one last chance to back off before blowing its crankshaft into
a trillion pieces or seizing up, the piston sort of melting into
the barrel. Either way, a hand kept on the clutch lever precludes
certain death from a rear wheel skid flagellation.
It's the sheer boredom from riding a motorcycle that absolutely
refuses to exceed 70mph that inspires such throttle madness. Other
than falling off, there's not much more that the GP100 can offer
a rider used to anything other than learner fare.
As I'd descended from the heady heights of FZR1000 ownership,
thanks to a ridiculous divorce settlement (that is, I lost everything
except for the cat!), something like the GP was a slap in the
face that had to be dealt with by maximum violence. On the throttle
rather than with the hammer, circa Kid Frost!
The silencer was already baffleless, didn't see much point in
fitting a spannie - just give the local yobs an excuse to throw
bricks at me. The airfilter had long since been chucked away.
The carb hadn't been rejetted to suit, the mill running very hot,
but this on its own was insufficient to seize it up or hole a
piston.
Engine destruction was helped along by a totally unpredictable
gearbox. Sometimes very slick in the Suzuki tradition, other times
it would throw the engine into a false neutral and approximately
one trillion revs. The little engine wanted to vibrate its way
out of its mounts - they needed a weekly tightening up session,
involving enough muscle to make Mad Max weak at the knees.
Whilst this was going down, the unhinged back end joined in with
lunatic asylum gyrations and the front enjoyed ambitions towards
turning into a pogo-stick. The sheer lightness of the machine
was a mixed blessing. On the plus side, it could always be forced
into line; on the negative side, it was knocked around by tarmac
bumps - could end up heading for the wrong side of the road.
Often, a fast ride through stalled traffic was interrupted when
the bike was thrown off line by a large bump or deep pot-hole.
Considerable damage was done to the sides of cars but it seemed
to make sod all difference to the state of the GP. Not that it
was so much extraordinary in its toughness as being already well
worn.
Seized up engines weren't a total disaster. Plenty of spares in
breakers, even whole motors out of crashed commuters. I soon found
that it took three piston seizures before the small-ends began
to complain!
It took about one day to become completely bored with the bike
but three months before I summoned up the energy to sell it at
a profit. The replacement was a Honda H100, which had better brakes
and handling but a motor that didn't like to rev in the same suicidal
way as the GP, even when I missed a gearchange. The latter very
easy on an engine with 19000 miles under its wings.
Everything about the Honda excelled in the mediocre, including
a top speed of only 65mph. Well, it would do 70mph, but only if
I laid myself out on the bike, found a steep hill and had a following
wind. I once even managed 72mph, the grinding vibes not half as
amusing as on the GP. The elements won out before I had a chance
to really test the engine.
In fact, I never managed to seize the motor up. I did wear the
piston rings out. The result, a huge amount of stroker smoke and
not a lot of go. Secondhand rings soon bedded in.
The best thing about the H was its economy, always better than
100mpg, whereas the GP100 had often done as little as 60mpg. I
was becoming such an old fogey that at one point I rode really
mildly and found it was turning in 120mpg! I thought about taking
up Russian Roulette but knowing my luck the pigs would've turned
up and done me for firearms possession.
Instead, I took the silencer off, rode around with flames shooting
out of the down-pipe and the most alarming shriek you've ever
heard. No less than three cop cars were on my tail at one point,
but no way they could squirt through the traffic like the H. That
was one of the few advantages of riding around on a small commuter
stroker, it could get in places where much bigger iron wouldn't
dream of going.
Even that didn't destroy the Honda, so I sold it on at another
mild profit and bought an old GP125 that the owner claimed made
a genuine 20 horses. The wail out of the expansion chamber was
straight off a racetrack and the engine just coughed and spluttered
at the lower end of the rev range.
When the power finally coalesced it didn't seem that much heavier
than on the GP100 but it continued to pour in until an easy 80mph
was on the clock. Fortunately, the forks and front disc were off
something newer whilst a pair of Girling shocks took care of the
rear end. The latter old but almost too firm. That only left the
swinging arm bearings to waggle around once the speed was above
70mph. Much better than a stock, worn GP100.
It was still more of an irritating bike to ride than an exciting
one. Had to be revved to infinity everywhere, otherwise it didn't
want to run. The resulting awful racket, in which by some strange
process the engine pinging seemed to be amplified by the banshee
exhaust wail, had everyone out for my neck. I didn't mind being
an antisocial bugger - it kind of came naturally - but the GP
didn't really reward such a rolling crime wave.
Which has to be expected. I destroyed the GP125's crankshaft which
meant the engine was a write-off. Ended up back where I started,
a GP100 engine installed!
R. K.