For good or ill, my relationship with the Yamaha outlasted mere human affection. If the UMG had been about then I would have steered clear of the XS, but it was clean, had 16000 miles on the clock and everything worked - just. On the way home I noticed two awkward faults that I’ve never been able to rectify. It was reluctant to tick over and the centre stand lever was missing, probably because it had a Motad 2-1 fitted.
The moment I left the bike alone, my girlfriend painted a Pegasus on either side of the tank, of which I’ve become very fond regarding them a good luck symbols - the bike has never let me down far from home or thrown me off.
My attitude towards motorcycle mechanics is if it works leave well alone, so apart from oil which has become self changing due to a leak, I’ve done just that. Occasionally, on a sunny Sunday morning I'll set the timing with a fag paper which seems to hold out for 500 to 1000 miles and pretend to adjust the valve clearances. The starter motor ceased to function after the first winter of discontent, whether through lack of battery power, which I replaced to no avail, or the motor itself I have never bothered to explore.
On wet or cold mornings the toy chopper was nothing if not predictable, always starting on the 159th kick or after 250 yards of body training - I had to go out ten minutes before I planned to depart, dressed in a jogging outfit and jackboots. Once started it was pretty reliable, coughing and farting if I hadn’t applied enough WD40 the previous Sunday morning. Some dismal days my temper started before the engine and I more than once kicked more than the engine over.
On long journeys it has never really dropped me in it. I’ve ridden the Special from Lands End to Eastborne two up with luggage in the rain, and from Liverpool to London in Hurricane Charley without more than a slight splutter. Even when the bike had a puncture I was only 200 yards from a motorcycle shop in Purley.
The clock reached 40000 miles without any major engine work apart from a head gasket. I’d thrash it if I could, but it runs out of power at 80mph before I can screw it into the redline. Riding the length of the M4 takes a lot of will power, but surprisingly, little petrol, an average of 70mpg. The laid back riding position makes for an intimate knowledge of service stations, whilst passing superbikes acknowledge the bravery of the owner in attempting such a long haul on a custom bike.
The shocks were never good and became so bad that the oscillations once started refused to die out. New, stiffer, springs mean I can take full advantage of the Yam’s limited ground clearance, especially the dangling side stand. The left handlebar switchgear fills with water due to bad design. After many strip downs to remove corrosion and a very expensive replacement I now employ a plastic bag when parked if rain seems at all likely.
Fat rear tyres for these ancient Jap customs can be hard to find, once I spent two weeks searching and had to resort to Oriental rubber for legal reasons. The police go through bouts of pulling me, mainly because of the paint job they assume it’s either nicked, chopped or that I take hallucinogenics but I am a BMW rider at heart! I also gave up cleaning it two years ago because I felt a bit of grime made it feel less toy-like.
The other day, the poor old thing came close to death. A transit van backed over it. The man at the bike shop took one look at the state of the bike and pronounced that he’d write it off if it had a puncture. Not wanting to wait for months and then be offered £100 compensation, I managed to persuade the van driver to hand over £60. I bought the bits at a breakers for a tenner... this little episode taught me the ridiculousness of insurance estimates and the usefulness of breakers.
I don’t know if I’d recommend the Yam XS250SE to anyone. They do make a great rat bike, having a certain style intrinsic to the design. For wandering around town, where engine, frame and brakes don’t have to be race spec it’s fun to ride, feeling like a favourite, saggy armchair. In traffic the narrow handlebars and upright riding position means you can twang Porsche mirrors, cut up lumbering CX500s and be at the head of the queue before you can say Genesis.
At the moment, I’m looking for a BMW. I think Pegasus senses the end - he’s been starting much too easily and staying in tune, although his poor little side stand gave up yesterday he’s been on his best behaviour. I doubt I'll sell him, he’s got too many funny little ways for someone else to put up with. I would give him a thorough overhaul but I’m afeared the shock might be too much.
Grayson Perry