Riding home I took it easy, worried that the frame might turn plastic or the wheels might fall off. But she was as steady as a train at 70mph, the engine appeared to urge me on to max out; the little vertical twin thrilled to the sound of its pistons breaking through the 10000rpm barrier. The harder it was revved the better it sounded and felt. Typical rice-burner!
A week went by with no problems. Confidence building, I speed tested on a deserted back road at six in the morning. 75 to 80mph without much effort but getting to 90mph was damn hard work, aerodynamic forces hammering the naked bike which had only 27 horses to call upon. Maybe less with 18 thou on the clock.
The morning after that outing the bike played up like a youth with his first hangover. Refused to start. The electric boot soon drained the somewhat meagre battery. After charging, I spent an hour working out on the kickstart. I tried a new set of spark plugs - they can be removed without touching the rest of the bike (try that on a water-cooled four) but the threads were very dicey, easy to strip if you believed in the gorilla school of mechanics.
The bike refused to start. I stalked off in disgust. The next day it started first kick. Christ, what a bastard. That wasn’t the end of the battle, just the beginning. Three days later I had a race on A-roads with a youth on a KH250. Really thrashed the XS through its still slick box. I didn’t win the race but burbled back to Canterbury with a light heart (I was still alive) only to have the engine stall dead just as the lights changed to green at a junction.
I was in the way of a long queue of GTi types, the bike refusing to start again. Horns blared and fists were shook at me as if I’d knocked down half a dozen school kids rather than taking a few seconds to push the Yam into the gutter. Some people, they were going to roar away for a 100 yards before the next traffic jam! Stupid! I ended up pushing the bike the half mile to my house.
Next morning it started again. After a bit of experimentation I realised that thrashing the bike caused starting problems. If I rode moderately there wasn't a problem! The stress was causing some component to temporarily break down. Or so I thought. After a month the starting went to pot regardless of how I rode the bike. It became as predictable as playing Russian Roulette.
That almost made it easier to trace, although it was very irritating and made the bike totally impractical for the commuting unless I got up an hour earlier so I could take the bus if it didn’t start and didn’t mind being stranded at work with a bike that wouldn't go. I began by simplifying the wiring, basically an ignition circuit with its own switch in the bottom of the side panel. No difference.
The coils were a possibility but the car coils I tried weren't any help at all. I persuaded a friend with an XS400 to donate his to the cause but no improvement in the starting. There was a fat blue spark at the plugs,so that side of things looked OK. I turned my attention to the petrol tank, found a lot of gunge in its bottom. One of the carb floats was gummed up and the air filter looked original, so was attacked with a screwdriver. Still no improvement.
It was only when I checked the carb manifold that I found a tiny crack, a very common malaise on old Japanese engines. OK, that solved the starting problem. I went back to the old ignition circuit as it’s useful to have a kill switch, lights and a horn. Damn, the poor starting came back! I had two problems not one!
After rewiring the bike, all was back to normal but it had cost nearly two weeks of pissing around to solve it. Beware of these models, they suffer from poor ignition and carburation that can send the owner insane with frustration! I was lucky in the end, found a brand new set of carbs in a dealer’s clearout sale — they made the engine seem like new!
After three months I’d experienced all the XS had to offer, which ain't that much in these days of race replicas and 100hp monsters. Good points were reasonable handling (on Sebac rear shocks), low mass and an ability to cruise at 80mph in perfect comfort. The seat left me perched somewhat above the petrol tank but was very supple, kept my bum pain free for 150 miles. The riding position was sensible but the tubular bars allowed it to be altered if necessary; I never bothered.
Then I had a series of crashes for no good reason. It was the Michelin tyres going down to 2mm that was doing it. The lack of engine bars left the cases a bit scored and the ancillaries battered but no real damage. Not until we skidded off and hit the side of a car, both wheels ploughing into the cage. The cast wheels were cracked!
As it happens, I was beginning to become annoyed with the brakes, a single disc at each end. They’ were never like slamming into a brick wall and gave me a few moments until I'd become used to them. Time and mileage added up to seizing calipers and loads of delay in the wet. I took that opportunity to look for a more modern set, ending up with stuff off a GS450E. In fact, I ended up with a complete GS front end because the wheel wouldn't fit. The OE forks were sold off to some old chap who'd ridden his XS into the side of a bus - reckoned it had appeared out of nowhere! These additions made the XS better braked and handling but it was never really threatened by the power put out by the motor. The frame, shared as it was with the 110mph XS400, was well up to the job.
I though the finish was impressive for a twelve year old bike until the bottom of the tank fell out due to rust! Petrol went everywhere as I freewheeled through the countryside, over my legs as well as the engine. Suddenly, whoosh, I had a fireball between my legs! I was thankful for the efficacy of the new brakes and the nearness of a pond into which I threw myself. My marital tackle was merely singed. Bloody motorcycles!
I pushed the charred bike into a small village where there was a tiny garage. After the owner stopped laughing, we managed to bodge the bike back into life. That involved a half litre oil can filled with petrol strapped to the top of tank! Some artful welding at home revived the old tank but I was impotent for a couple of weeks.
Further rotting was evidenced by both silencers taking the same moment to fall off. Rather inconvenient as no less than two cop cars appeared out of nowhere. I tried to explain what had happened but the buggers weren't interested, threatened to add riding a bike in a dangerous condition to the charge. One hooligan started pulling the seat off not satisfied until he’d wrenched it out of its bracket! [ACAB as I always say - 2021 Ed.]
By the time they'd cleared off, chortling away inanely, I was shaking so much that fixing the seat back on was more difficult than putting Araldite back in the tube... I ended up strapping it down with the good old bungees. That wasn't quite the end of the story, nearing home the seat shot off like a car-seeking missile. My long suffering marital tackle bounced several times on the frame rails!
These problems add up. After six months and 8000 miles I was beginning to approach the Yamaha with fear in my heart! Then I thought things couldn't get any worse, could they? Well yes they could. With about 28 thou on the dial the good old camchain rattles turned up. And | thought the maintenance chores were easy! The tensionser seemed stuck so a can of WD40 was emptied over it. Seemed to work but I figured it was time to move on before some heavy expenses persuaded me to throw the bike into the nearest skip.
The bike was sold at a small profit and a GS450E bought as a replacement. These old Yamahas can be very finicky but they are fast and big enough for serious road use. Knowing what I now know I'd tend to give them a miss unless I was desperate for a cheap hack. Many people experience them as they progress up the motorcycle ladder.
Adrian Coulson