Some bikes are just like some of the women I've known in the past - right bitches! The Kawasaki Z650, one of the first models to hit the UK, was as far gone as some ancient Soho hooker, though it could still get its motor running despite 120,000 plus miles under its wheels.
Ride it too hard and fast, though, it'd try to throw you right off the back. The rust had bitten so deep that the sides of the petrol tank threatened to cave in and a gentle tap would've turned the silencers into dust. A rolling rust-trap just about summed it up.
The motor had been rebuilt at least twice, few of its components as old as the mileage indicated on the clock. Nevertheless it smoked and rattled a little, under the ferocious roar of the rusted through four into two exhaust system. The only thing the bike had going for it, really, was the 200 quid asking price. So I bought it.
So far was the advance of the rust that I immediately set about stripping the machine down to the frame. The high point of this exercise in futility was finally, with a large bang, extracting the banana shaped swinging arm. Someone advertising in MCN had on offer newish exhaust system, tank, panels and guards from an abandoned restoration project - a hundred quid's worth, but these would make all the difference to the final restoration.
The rest was down to new cables, bearings, wiring and switches, pads, tyres, repainting of frame, wheels and a multitude of minor bits, new chain and sprocket set, and anything else that needed doing. Took a couple of winter months to sort it all out, almost preferable to riding the beast. The engine was given a valve check, carb balance, fresh oil and filter, the external alloy shined up and a fresh set of spark plugs inserted.
After clearing up a few minor electrical hassles, I was ready for a test ride. All went well for the first few minutes then the front brake failed! The bleed nipple had fallen out, ruined thread. Fortunately there was enough engine braking and retardation from the rear brake to stop me at the junction. Even with a bodged in bolt where the nipple sat, it was still evident that the calipers really needed a complete rebuild or replacement.
The motor had been rebuilt at least twice, few of its components as old as the mileage indicated on the clock. Nevertheless it smoked and rattled a little, under the ferocious roar of the rusted through four into two exhaust system. The only thing the bike had going for it, really, was the 200 quid asking price. So I bought it.
So far was the advance of the rust that I immediately set about stripping the machine down to the frame. The high point of this exercise in futility was finally, with a large bang, extracting the banana shaped swinging arm. Someone advertising in MCN had on offer newish exhaust system, tank, panels and guards from an abandoned restoration project - a hundred quid's worth, but these would make all the difference to the final restoration.
The rest was down to new cables, bearings, wiring and switches, pads, tyres, repainting of frame, wheels and a multitude of minor bits, new chain and sprocket set, and anything else that needed doing. Took a couple of winter months to sort it all out, almost preferable to riding the beast. The engine was given a valve check, carb balance, fresh oil and filter, the external alloy shined up and a fresh set of spark plugs inserted.
After clearing up a few minor electrical hassles, I was ready for a test ride. All went well for the first few minutes then the front brake failed! The bleed nipple had fallen out, ruined thread. Fortunately there was enough engine braking and retardation from the rear brake to stop me at the junction. Even with a bodged in bolt where the nipple sat, it was still evident that the calipers really needed a complete rebuild or replacement.
A major hassle involved in stripping the calipers down, corroded solid in the usual way of old Jap alloy. So far gone that I found it easier to hit the breakers. No Z650 bits around, at least none in a better state than my already ruined stuff, but a twin disc GT750 front end was found for seventy quid, complete with a newish Japlop tyre. This fitted on with suspicious ease and nearly threw me over the bars the first time I tried the brakes!
It was all more or less together. Looked almost like it'd had just stepped out of the crate. Ran after a fashion. Not much wrong with the handling or braking but the engine wasn't exactly powerful - both excessive in secondary vibes and lacking in power at the top end of the rev range. The bars and pegs actually felt like they were breaking up as I charged the bike through the red-line in second and third. Third to fourth often ended up in a false neutral, the engine doing about 15000 revs. The gear change's slackness was easily the worst part of the aged motor.
The best cruising speed was around 85mph, secondary vibration at its mildest. Oddly, perhaps because of the relatively new carbs (only about 40000 miles old!), fuel didn't match the general feel of the engine as being near its end - 55-60mpg! Moderate 65-70mph cruising would tum in as much as 65mpg, though town riding only allowed 50mpg. From 85mph to 105mph in top gear, acceleration was pretty useful if far from joint dislocating. Beyond that, secondary vibes tried in earnest but ultimately failed to destroy the machine - I just had to pull over after half an hour's madness to pop my eyeballs back in!
Oil leakage from the cylinder head gasket soon threatened to splatter the machine with lubricant and debris. I did the usual trick, massive force on the head's bolts. Turned the flood into a mere trickle though I did feel a couple of the studs begin to give and any more force would've meant a total engine strip! At the back of my mind there was always the thought of making a large profit - total cost of the classic was around the 500 note mark, probable resale value two grand!
That didn't stop me riding the bike for the next few months. The only exceptional thing about the experience was that the engine kept on growling away as if it was going to make it around the clock for a second time! I even became used to the godawful gearbox and could usually make a clean change. Handling and braking took more effort than any modern middleweight would demand but could hardly be called dangerous, the Z650 was always one of the better handling bikes of its generation.
Purchase of a wrecked CBR600 was my next move. An early model with ruined plastic, bent front end but a motor that still purred away meaningfully. The Z650 was put up for sale at 1950 notes and went for two hundred quid less. Had loads of telephone calls, the punters not even put off by the thought of the incredible mileage that had piled up - 128000 at that stage!
It was all more or less together. Looked almost like it'd had just stepped out of the crate. Ran after a fashion. Not much wrong with the handling or braking but the engine wasn't exactly powerful - both excessive in secondary vibes and lacking in power at the top end of the rev range. The bars and pegs actually felt like they were breaking up as I charged the bike through the red-line in second and third. Third to fourth often ended up in a false neutral, the engine doing about 15000 revs. The gear change's slackness was easily the worst part of the aged motor.
The best cruising speed was around 85mph, secondary vibration at its mildest. Oddly, perhaps because of the relatively new carbs (only about 40000 miles old!), fuel didn't match the general feel of the engine as being near its end - 55-60mpg! Moderate 65-70mph cruising would tum in as much as 65mpg, though town riding only allowed 50mpg. From 85mph to 105mph in top gear, acceleration was pretty useful if far from joint dislocating. Beyond that, secondary vibes tried in earnest but ultimately failed to destroy the machine - I just had to pull over after half an hour's madness to pop my eyeballs back in!
Oil leakage from the cylinder head gasket soon threatened to splatter the machine with lubricant and debris. I did the usual trick, massive force on the head's bolts. Turned the flood into a mere trickle though I did feel a couple of the studs begin to give and any more force would've meant a total engine strip! At the back of my mind there was always the thought of making a large profit - total cost of the classic was around the 500 note mark, probable resale value two grand!
That didn't stop me riding the bike for the next few months. The only exceptional thing about the experience was that the engine kept on growling away as if it was going to make it around the clock for a second time! I even became used to the godawful gearbox and could usually make a clean change. Handling and braking took more effort than any modern middleweight would demand but could hardly be called dangerous, the Z650 was always one of the better handling bikes of its generation.
Purchase of a wrecked CBR600 was my next move. An early model with ruined plastic, bent front end but a motor that still purred away meaningfully. The Z650 was put up for sale at 1950 notes and went for two hundred quid less. Had loads of telephone calls, the punters not even put off by the thought of the incredible mileage that had piled up - 128000 at that stage!
The Z looks very classic but is easily out-paced by any vaguely modern middleweight, which also feel much less raw. Still, a tough old bugger with plenty of character and the potential to turn a profit if you do the resurrection shuffle.
Dean Peters