Friday, 3 September 2021

Yamaha RD350 YPVS

After several disappointing months of searching, I finally located what seemed like the ideal bike, a 1984 RD350F with 3000 miles on the clock for £1300. Only one problem, however, someone else had bought it by the time I arrived to view it; never mind (as my mum says) keep looking. Several weeks later a D reg F2 turned up in MCN with only 5600 miles on the clock, for only £1500 (gasp). A quick phone call revealed that it had minor damage (cracked belly pan, dented tank and exhaust, and bent fairing bracket).
 
I went to see it anyway. The bike was owned by a bloke who appeared reasonably sane and didn’t strike me as a thrasher, so a ride was arranged during which I decided that I’d buy the bike. The price was negotiated down to £1425 and he agreed to send me a new belly pan which he was getting from a breaker (it never arrived but he phoned up and then sent me 25 notes, which was fair enough).
 
Still, enough of the boring details, I'll get to the moment you’ve all been waiting for (what it goes like, idiot). The RD is very smooth, fairly quiet and very torquey; surprisingly, it even does 55mpg with reasonable riding (anything less than the ton and no wheelies).  The gearbox is slick and due to the surprising torque has three redundant gears (first is necessary for pulling away, third for slow work and fifth for owt else, as they say up north), The brakes are superb, with twin front discs and single rear disc, and so they should be in view of the performance which is totally wicked to say the least.

 
The bike seems quite friendly below 5500rpm and suddenly explodes into violent action above that figure, the front wheel straining to go airborne and the back digging into the road as the exhausts let out the ear splitting and undeniably beautiful two stroke yowl, so often reflected upon by the watery eyed friends of the UMG in their more lucid moments.

 
The famed YPVS (Yamaha Power Valve System) keeps burble and fart to a minimum while the liquid cooling kills virtually all the mechanical noise, so the aural assault is merely restricted to the aforementioned yowl. Sorry to all you economy minded chaps but I can’t rattle off any interesting tyre or chain life figures (don’t all look so aghast) cos I haven’t the foggiest how long they last since my bike is fitted with what I believe is called a Japlop on the front and a Kamikaze on the rear, and I didn’t bother to find out whether they were the originals, though I suspect not.

 
But I can hopefully redeem myself by going on about the extortionate cost of spares, which represent a daunting prospect even to a Loadsamoney Southerner like me.  Here goes: Fairing brackets cost a not insubstantial seventy quid, whilst belly pans weigh in at a hefty, "fifty sovs plus VAT to you, guv,” in plain white or £89 plus VAT with the factory stickers (£39 plus VAT for stickers? - when I was a lad and beer was sixpence a pint...). I forgot about the stickers and decided to spray on my own stripes.
 
The bike really does seem fast, especially to an ex-CB100 rider like myself, the power band phenomenon seeming especially pronounced and easily related to the many enthusiastic reports which abound on this machine.  The first experience of this display of pure energy is bound to leave an impression for life and my willing pillionist lives in fear of its recurrence. Other incidents are fondly remembered, such as the time I did an unintentional ton-ten when I thought I was only doing eighty and the times the bikes got bored with the slow lane and whizzed away (these bikes have a mind of their own, officer).
 
Maintenance is very simple check oil pump settings, balance carbs, check tyre pressures and adjust the chain tension. All nice and straightforward. Comfort is reasonable, a little spoilt by an irritating vibration through the bars which eventually numbs the throttle hand, shoulder ache sets in on long, slow trips and the rear suspension does tend to thump and bump a bit. The fairing is almost totally useless unless you lay flat on the tank, and even then one’s feet are left painfully exposed to the icy blast.
 
The handling and stability of the bike are extreme - the folding foot pegs being mounted high on the frame and the exhausts angled upwards allow the most horrendous knee scrapers with the only cost being the usual laundry bill associated with enthusiastic riding.  The only problems stem from the lightness of the front end which always feels inclined to lift under rapid acceleration or fast gear changing unless you fling yourself forward at the crucial moment - quite unnerving when changing from fifth to sixth on the motorway at 90mph...
 
There are few problems to look out for when purchasing a used Powervalve, the main ones are as follows: Check for an engine number on the left-hand engine cover, these bikes get pinched a lot and you might end up with a dodgy one. Feel between the barrels behind the rad, there’s a sort of bar where the Powervalves meet, any movement of this bar or any oil leaks in the area indicate trouble with the valves.
 
Check that the exhausts smoke evenly after the bike has ticked over for a few minutes, expect plenty of smoke but if one exhaust smokes more than the other the crank seals could be knackered. Bounce the rear shock - the action should be firm and all the movement should cease almost instantly - reject any bike with a squidgy shock as these are expensive to replace. These quick tests should help you find a good ‘un, also bear in mind that a thrashed example could well need a re-bore by 20000 miles.
 
When all’s considered, the bike’s a pretty good all-rounder as well as being an excellent sporting machine and having low(ish) insurance premiums (I'm 18, live in London suburbs and pay £295 TPFT with a years no-claims). A final note, check that you can reach the ground as the bike’s light but big.

 
D.J. Pepper