At the tender age of 36 I learnt to ride on a Honda CD125T on a piece of waste ground on a sunny Sunday morning in Telford. Just over a year later, having passed my Part 2, l was eager for something a bit more powerful and saw a red A reg GPz305 with 18000 miles on the clock in a local dealers. The bike had been in the dealers for several months, but this was over winter when trade is slow and a 305cc four stroke twin perhaps does not appeal to today's youth, so I was not unduly put off.
The test ride was a revelation to one used to 12 very restricted horses hauling a heavy bike. I weaved cautiously through Wolverhampton's back streets until with the engine fully warmed up I turned on to a dual carriageway and opened the throttle wide in third. The bike surged forward, the revs climbed swiftly and acceleration was breath-taking. Wow! The bike was as good as sold.
Returning to the dealers I acted nonchalant and non-committal. A seasoned biker friend I had taken along for a second opinion looked the bike over and could find no obvious faults. After a bit of haggling a price was agreed upon. A week later money and bike changed hands. When you buy secondhand the honeymoon period is always tarnished by the thought that you may have bought a complete dog. The acceleration continued to thrill but the handling didn't impress at all. There was a distinct wobble despite the fact that I could not recall any problems on the test ride.
At the end of my first week of proud ownership I made the mistake of pulling up at a junction for a roundabout around which cars hurtle at speeds of 50 to 60mph. The mistake was this - I had foolishly obstructed the path of a blind Skoda driver who shunted me none too gently from behind. The bike lurched forward, I remained stationary, legs apart and hands reaching forward to where the bars had just been. My new found pride and joy toppled over on its right side with a sickening crunch.
Somehow my left leg had taken a knock but othervise I was okay. I pulled the bike upright and on to the verge. A kind lorry driver who had seen everything leaned out of his cab and handed me a piece of paper with his name and address on. The Skoda driver in the meantime had spotted his error, got out of his car and was saying in Hungarian, 'Sorry mate, I didn't see you.’ What I said to him would not be in any phrasebook.
His wife spoke some English, the drive to the police station was the most terrifying I have ever experienced, and I do not know how he had driven all the way from Budapest without wiping out most of the population. The police arrested him for reckless driving!
It turned out that the bike was actually still rideable, although lots of minor damage added up to a major insurance claim which took months to put right because the bike shop I took it to for the repairs, although always very friendly and helpful, seemed only able to put one thing right at a time. Loads of phone calls, loads of coming and going, loads of hassle.
Not surprisingly the accident had not cured the wobble. I remember shortly after I bought the bike setting off for work one morning and carrying a fair amount of stuff. I eased off the power to change gear and experienced a frightening steering wobble. Even with the bike unloaded, the bike wobbled between 30 and 40mph, so cornered more slowly than the Honda. The rear tyre was, for some strange reason, a front tyre (if you see what I mean) but changing it for a proper rear tyre did not make a scrap of difference.
It took three months of wobbles and a lecture or two on centre of gravity from a friend to convince me to jettison the top box. I bought some throwovers for luggage. Handling improved immediately and dramatically. Moral, keep the weight within the wheelbase.
Then there were the oil leaks - one round the tacho drive, the other round the clutch linkage - nothing serious: just enough to worry about, although the continuous fine uptay of multigrade did give my leather boots some extra waterproofing.
And the noises. When cold the engine rattled at the top and also thudded rather ominously from the bottom; when warm it sounded absolutely fine. My mechanically expert friend told me not to pay too much attention to cold engine noises as the engine was designed to run warm and the tolerances hadn't been taken up.
Then I noticed a new noise which suddenly cut in at 3500 revs, a noise which got worse with the passing of time, a noise which sounded like a chain whip-lashing against metal somewhere inside the engine. Previously, I had not heard of camchains or tensioners, the Honda had spoilt me, it had just plodded along without any engine attention. I had a new camchain fitted, the tensioner packed with grease to make sure it didn't stick (a new one was on order).
In this condition the bike ran superbly and this was the best phase of my relationship with the 305 - I loved it. I particularly liked the marked power band phenomenon at 6000 revs, despite the implied lack of flexibility in the motor and the need for constant gear changing. The bike would comfortably see off the four wheel opposition, and that was quite enough for me. I also liked the looks of bike, sporty but not covered in plastic.
With the new tensioner fitted all was well for a while and then, damn me, if the thing didn't start rattling again. Not as badly as before, but still enough to make grit your teeth at the thought of all those little bits of metal being chipped off into the oil and forming a nice grinding paste between the engine’s vital moving parts. Worse still, a new leak appeared at the front of the engine between the bores.
There were other minor problems, soon solved but nonetheless niggly. A rectifier fault meant the battery wasn’t charging. One day the gear lever, which had always been rather floppy, came off its spindle altogether, and the whole assembly dropped rather pathetically on to the left side of the machine.
However, at least by then the insurance work had been completed and the bike looked better than ever. Then, cleaning the bike one day. I noticed the paint had blistered slightly at one corner of the tank. Sure enough, the, petrol tank was weeping ever so slightly, fixed by the dealer. Understandably, I was beginning to lose faith in this not so trusty steed and thinking about trading it in for something more poky, reliable and possibly brand new. Trying to trade the GPz for a GPZ500S the dealer declared that he could not offer me anything for the 305 in part exchange, as the camchain had eaten its way through the front of the cylinder causing a large oil leak. I took it up the road where the Suzuki dealer offered me £750 against a new GS500E. No doubt his profit margin was large enough to cover him and no doubt I could have done better by selling privately and using the cash to get the maximum discount on the new bike, but by that time I just wanted out.
Summing up 4500 miles and 8 months of experience, I must say whatever its faults the bike did have charisma. On the all too rare occasions when it was running well, it was a lot of fun to ride. Petrol consumption was low, 60-70mpg. Oil consumption was what you might expect from a bike of this mileage, necessitating regular checking.
Undoubtedly, I was unlucky with this particular bike although I have heard that camchain problems are not uncommon on the 305. Despite all this, curiously enough, I liked the GPz. Indeed, such was my attachment to the GPz from that first test ride onwards that, had it been less jinxed and more trouble free, I might still have been happily riding it to this day.
Chris Onions