Suzuki GT750

"It’s a lovely bike, mate. I’ve had it for ten years and never had a days trouble out of it!” This impressive testimony from its previous owner sealed the deal. He had spent half an hour convincing me that this 1975 Suzuki GT750 was one of the new classics and well worth £1750 of anyone’s money. I rode home in a happy and contented mood. The bike felt as good as it looked. A couple of runs up to an indicated 125mph convinced me that | had a good one.

The next day there was a large puddle of oil under the engine and it refused to start. | looked under the motor and almost had a heart attack. There was a huge crack running across the lower crankcase! Bits of what looked like Araldite could be seen around the gaping hole. Of course, when I phoned the owner he denied all knowledge of this fault, saying it must have been there before he bought the bike, before slamming the phone down on me.

Engine out, split the crankcases. Oh shit, the main bearings were loose, the primary drive had cracked gear teeth and the gearbox looked like it had been run dry for the last 100 miles. The shining chassis slowly turned to rust whilst the machine was left to decay in the garden for three months. Eventually, an engine was procured from a crashed Dresda chassis. The owner told me it was well tuned and probably wouldn’t work with the cumbersome 3 into 4 original exhaust that my machine sported.

In went the engine, after half an hour it started up with the usual cloud of blue smoke. There was a terrible engine rattle. Main bearings were shot. One exchange crankshaft later and I had a working machine, albeit one that had cost a total of £2600 to get on the road. I was to learn that you can buy very nice ones for £500 to £750 if you know what you are doing.

The motor seemed constipated below 5000rpm and then took off like a tornado jet to about 8000rpm when the whole machine shook with fierce vibes. I checked the engine mounting bolts and managed to snap the front one off when tightening it up. | bought some studding and cut it to suit. The vibes were still there but between 70 and 95mph it was surprisingly smooth. The triple cylinder wail was still present though very muted by screaming stroker standards.

There were newish Koni shocks out back, so no problems there and the front forks were surprisingly taut for an ancient Japanese — perhaps the owner hadn’t 'been lying when he claimed to have refurbished them with stiffer springs. What was causing a certain amount of flex was bodged up swinging arm bearings. On disassembly these consisted of Tinadite - a mixture of a dismembered beer can and Araldite, contrived to get me out of town before the lack of stability became very obvious.

Once fixed, handling was revealed as adequate up to the ton. It weaved on fast motorways but never dangerously and always predictably, unlike its bedfellow, the old Kawa 750 triple which would go berserk at the merest hint of backing off the throttle. Much to my dismay, it could not keep up with my mate’s GS500 in anything resembling a curve, its slow handling nature made me feel like I was trying to control some huge artic.

Everywhere I looked signs of Araldite bodging were obvious. Stripped threads? No problem, permanently glue the screws in. There were even traces of the damn stuff in the rear drum brake casting. After two weeks on the road I decided I was riding a potential death trap and had no choice but to strip it down to the frame. A month later I had fixed all of the multitude of minor problems and felt safe to go for a long ride without fearing that the machine would dump me on the road.

The bike was useful for sensible cruising, a bit heavy and wide for fast town work and too hefty for B road madness. It made a kind of sense as a moderate tourer, except that it would only do 35mpg and 200mpp. | didn’t really like the power characteristics of the tuned motor, I would have preferred more low down stomp as in the standard set up. It was possible to pile on the revs and drop the clutch if you wanted to impress with wild wheelies. The grating noise from the clutch and the almost uncontrollable feel of the machine once on the back wheel soon dissuaded me from such pleasurable pursuits.

I had some enjoyable outings on the machine. 200 to 300 miles a day was no great problem, more than that was rather uncomfortable as the seat went very hard. I replaced the cowhorns with flat bars and fitted some rearsets - this made the bike much more practical on the motorway, previously I had felt like I had found an obscure and very painful way of muscle building.

My friends all thought I was mad to pay so much money to ride around on such an ancient stroker and took great delight in burning me off with their 250 race reptiles. I did 22000 miles in two and a half years, the engine proving surprisingly reliable in that time, although the five speed gearbox lost most of its slickness and vibes started coming in at 6000rpm.

Consumables were good and bad. Tyres lasted well, over 10000 miles (on Roadrunners) at each end but the chain was a different matter, lasting less than half that mileage and requiring an incredible amount of adjusting and oiling. The twin front discs offered incredible stopping power some times, other times fading to nothing. Similarly, pad life varied from 5000 to 14000 miles. Replacing one of the calipers that had been repaired, once again, with Araldite, helped a bit, as did a few lengths of Goodridge hose and bleeding the system with new fluid. However, there were still occasions when the machine went suicidal and the braking disappeared. Engine braking was minimal, slewing to a stop on the rear drum was the final desperate manoeuvre left.

I came off the bike three times. All caused by mad motorists doing stupid things. I only hit a car once, when the auto turned into my path as I was overtaking. Luckily, the angle of attack was such to heavily dent his wing and merely scratch the GT. Yes, it did put me in a good mood after I got over the shakes. The other two times, I managed to swerve around the encroaching vehicle, finding the Kettle didn't like gravel or mud. Neither did I for that matter. It was the kind of machine that could be kicked straight with a bit of muscle, although engine bars were mandatory to avoid writing off the alternator or crank.

I took the bike up to Scotland from London, the only problem when the fuel line came off and dumped fresh petrol all over the hot engine. On one occasion the watercooled motor did burn off nearly all its coolant. I was put wise to this by the power falling off drastically as the engine overheated. Still, it didn't seem to do any damage internally. The other incident that springs to mind was when the petrol tank came off as I was riding along. The spigots had rusted away! Bungee cords got me home that time.

I did try a set of expansion chambers but they moved the power band up to 6000rpm and all grunt disappeared lower down. It went wild at six grand and probably would have revved past 10000rpm had not the vibration become so fierce at 9000rpm that my forward vision became dangerously blurred. It was almost impossible to ride in town, made the most dreadful racket that not even ear plugs could dim, and returned an astonishing 22mpg. Putting the old system back on took two days of sheer frustration!

Over the term of my ownership, the finish started to degenerate. I  went through huge quantities of Solvol and wore my fingers to the bone trying to keep the bike looking reasonable. Even so, by the time I sold it, the bike looked well worn out and I only got £500. I had started advertising it at £1500 and gradually had to keep lowering the price, the first response coming at £725! To sell an old Jap for big money you have to be very lucky, few people want to buy them as classics.

There is a reasonable motorcycle in there somewhere, but ignore the classic tag - smaller bikes go faster, are more economical and less trouble. I certainly had some good times on mine, but it was not very good value for money. I won't be buying another unless one comes up for 100 to 200 notes.

David Willis