My mate, Smithy, was a big bloke who just didn't
look right on the small and compact Z440. Every time I saw him
on the bike I pointed this out to him. After about three months
the message got through his prematurely grey hair into what was
left of his brain (too much wine and too many divorces - you know
the type!). The bike was up for grabs and perfectly suited to
this skinny weasel. Nearly twenty years old, with eleven owners
in the registration document, the speedo only showed 23000 miles.
I sat on the little twin, felt immediately at home and decided
we were soul mates. Handed over the 500 sovs without further ado,
making Smithy go all suspicious! Nothing like leaving a trail
of paranoia in one's wake, is there?
The Z440 can best be summed as a typical mid-capacity
vertical twin in the mould of the milder Triumph and BSA twins
of the sixties. As a son of seventies Japanese engineering it
added good reliability and reasonable longevity to the genre.
Though it could knock up more than the ton, speed wasn't its game,
having more low down and midrange torque than most such devices.
Its handling revelled in stability rather than fast turning, but
that just made it a very safe bike to ride in all conditions.
Okay, the basic, perhaps somewhat soggy, package
had, along the way, been upgraded - Girling shocks, stiffer springs
and flatter bars. Nothing too expensive or extreme, but just sufficient
added stiffness in travel movement and forward redistribution
of rider weight to bring out the best qualities that the tubular
frame of utterly conventional structure and geometry might possess.
Both the stock stands and exhaust system had
a tendency to dig into bumpy country lane curves when the Z was
ridden with a touch of elan but the former had been cut back and
the bike sported the obligatory loud two into one exhaust system
- in all its rust and matt black glory. To be honest, the latter
left me with earache and a nervous twitch - I was a very happy
man when I bought a new Kawasaki exhaust system for fifty quid
when a dealer was having a closing down sale. Performance, at
the top end, increased, allowing about 110mph on the flickering
speedo - even after I'd added a few dents with the hammer to aid
ground clearance.
General riding gave about 60mpg and it took
a lot of throttle madness to get the bike below 55mpg. The engine
just didn't feel right when revved really hard. The counterbalancer's
chain whipped itself into the kind of self-destructive frenzy
that gave out more eyeball popping vibes that a similarly thrashed
500 Triumph twin of my acquaintance (a mate's Tiger 100). The
Z440 couldn't burn the Tiger off, though it won out in long distance
cruising - much more reliable and less vibratory at 80-85mph.
Handling was about equal.
The Z was one of those bikes that neither excelled
nor annoyed in any one particular area. Generally easy going,
it could cruise through town, whip through the bends and loiter
on the motorway without looking like an accident about to happen.
The parameters of its performance, and age of design, were brought
home to me one sunny Sunday when I was thoroughly whipped by a
youth on a TZR125 (I presume it was derestricted).
Trying to emulate his line through 70mph bends
had the old Kawasaki squirming on the edge of its cheap tyres,
the modified exhaust fighting with the tarmac and tears running
out of my eyes as I refused to change up from third, knowing that
the sudden power jerk would throw us right off the road. The TZR
accelerated so much more rapidly that even the theoretical higher
top speed of the Z wasn't worth a damn.
I tried to console myself with thoughts of
superior longevity and economy but it didn't really work; a bit
too undignified to be burnt off by some spotty youth just out
of school. I abused the Z for the next couple of days, doing the
commuting chores in town until I made the clutch overheat, drag
something chronic...
Turned out the engine oil had turned milky
white! When I went to take out the sump bolt I found its edges
were so worn I couldn't get a spanner to hold. The molegrips slipped
off, took a large chunk out of my palm as they snapped shut. The
chisel and hammer were reverently unleased and the recalcitrant
bugger finally turned! Not just turned, actually fell out, my
hand and arm covered in noxious muck that was once upon a time
engine lubricant. Some of this got into the cut in my palm, causing
an infection, strange liquid seeping out of my hand - could've
made a fortune in the bible belt claiming to have a stigma!
Meanwhile, I sorted through my stash of aged
spares for something that could be Araldited back in, like the
one that had fallen out! Not wanting to go through the same routine
every time I changed the oil, I drilled the replacement out, knocked
in a new thread for a smaller bolt that could be removed whenever
I wanted to do a lube change. A lot easier than having a helicoil
fitted into the sump.
When that was all fixed, the engine at least
had the common decency to purr back into life with a contented
growl, a perfect clutch and much improved gearbox, though it was
still nowhere near as good as the even older Tiger's. Ah, pleasant
days again! After a few weeks, riding the Z was second nature,
no nasty surprises hidden away. Even the Triumph owner got off
the Jap twin with a big grin on his face!
The single front disc was soon giving hassle.
What a surprise! A mate had a GT750 front end that was persuaded
on. This left the poor old Z dangerously overbraked - only had
to look at the front brake lever to have the forks shaking in
the headstock and the front tyre squealing for all it was worth.
First time I used it in the wet nothing happened, I pulled harder
and the next thing I knew was a hasty departure from the 440's
saddle. The landing was painful, but at least my body saved the
Kawasaki from any serious damage.
The GT's front end was promptly returned to
its owner and I gave him an uncalled-for bollicking for trying
to kill me! EBC pads, a bit of disc machining, secondhand Goodridge
hose and new fluid added up to a working front brake that was
at least predictable (rather like the whole bike) if not exactly
heart-stopping in retardation. The back drum wasn't much better,
but didn't need any new components as it would already lock up
the wheel without much effort.
That sorted, the days rolled by pretty effortlessly,
and I had a good laugh at Smithy who must've bought the one XS650
with a dodgy engine in the country. I actually saw him by the
roadside, crying over the fact that half the engine internals
were splattered over the tarmac. Refused to contemplate towing
him home - one such experience more than enough - but gave the
old bugger a lift on the pillion. By the time we reached his house,
the ungrateful sod was ranting and raving about my riding technique...
something to do with crossing over double-white-lines, I think.
Silly old codger.
The next little tantrum was the drive chain
snapping, just as I was about to charge off to work. I had a spare
bit of chain but was sent ballistic when I couldn't get the engine
cover off. The screws refused to budge. Had to get a lift into
work and put in some serious hammer work on my return. That's
one of the problems with old Japs - the manufacturers obviously
had a horror of bits falling off, designed everything to corrode
solidly together. Great for riding, very naff for maintenance.
After 9000 miles of having fun, generally enjoying
myself, the engine began to puff and groan up the steeper hills.
I noticed that the cylinder head was weeping a touch of oil and
there was the odd puff of smoke on the overrun. Being of a mildly
paranoid disposition I diagnosed that the engine was on the way
out and happily accepted an offer off Smithy - what I'd paid for
the bike plus one XS650 in bits. Smithy has done another 6000
miles without wrecking the Z and I've just managed to shoehorn
an XS400 engine into the 650's chassis - a rather perverse combination
but the motor just happened to be going for a song and shouldn't
be able to push the XS650's chassis fast enough to bring out the
infamous speed wobbles.
Given the chance of a low mileage Z440 at a
reasonable price, though, I'd grab it with both hands.
Mark Dobbs