Friday, 3 September 2021

Yamaha XJ650

I have always like Yam’s XJ650, but had convinced myself that I should be faithful to my 1981 GS550E. After all, it was boringly reliable, I wasn’t unhappy with the performance and I didn’t need a bigger bike.  Which does nothing to explain that why, as soon as I saw a red, 1982 XJ650 in the local dealer’s showroom, I decided that I had to have it.
 
An initial inspection found it difficult to fault the bike. It was nearly 18 months old and looked very clean save for a K&Q seat (ugh!) with 10000 miles on the clock. The only black mark was a tatty matt black exhaust that made an incredible noise when the bike was started. £1150 less £750 for the GS and my signature on the papers.
 
It felt quite torquey between 40 and 60 in top (3-4000rpm), a definite improvement on the GS. Joy unfounded, I pointed it down the dual carriageway and eased up to 70mph. It felt very comfortable and confidence inspiring. Must go faster, I thought, so wound open the throttle... nothing. It felt like the throttle cable had snapped.  Maybe it needs reserve but this didn’t make any difference, although I had a few bad moments trying to find the reserve tap.
 
I later found that this is completely normal for the XJ (and later YICS models are not much better), nothing between 4 and 6000 revs. This is a shame because it coincides with my favourite cruising speed, 60 to 80mph, and it’s not much fun in the wet either. You have to drop down a few gears and wind on the throttle, then it fair flies along, but fuel economy is shattered to under 40mpg. Keep the revs low and it'll do around 60mpg.
 
But none of this mattered to begin with, and I thoroughly enjoyed the last of the summer on my new steed. I first began to become upset as the rains came in with the winter weather. After a week standing in the wet the exhaust began to rust badly - I rubbed it down to bare metal and painted it in exhaust paint, a complete waste of effort, for within two weeks it was back to the rust again.  This reminds me of an XJ weakness, even the stock exhausts rot from the insides within 18 months. The laughable cost of standard replacements means it’s after market items or nothing (the difference in this case between nothing and my exhaust being pretty minimal).
 
Back to the dealer for a service (every 2000 miles, I must’ve been rich then) and a new Motad, which was quieter, gave the same performance but didn’t improve the mid-range. I could now hear the engine, especially the drive for the alternator that Yamaha had positioned under the carbs (just hope there aren’t any stray sparks).
The bike was also fitted with Metzeler Lazers, which I like despite the cost of £100 a pair. The rear goes for 6000 and the front for 8000 miles. 
 
Winter wore on and regular cold jaunts up the A4 between London and Huntingdon convinced me I needed some form of decent weather protection.  Despite several layers of clothing, I just couldn’t keep warm.  I took a deep breath and paid over £250 for a Rickman Trident fairing - I was attracted by the good build quality compared to some I saw.  This did the trick to a certain extent. The icy blast around my body was largely removed and with many layers of clothing on I could remain passably warm. The other side of the coin was a reduction in fuel consumption from an average of 48 to 42mpg, but I decided that was a small price to pay for the new found comfort.  Unfortunately, the extra wind resistance meant the midrange was even harder pushed to move the bulk, I had to pump the gearbox like a madman - at least it kept my feet warmish.

 
Winter finally went and my interest in the bike re-awakened with the good weather. My indifference over the winter was rewarded with regular starting and no corrosion except for the centre stand, swinging arm and white oxide on the alloy wheels. Paint and Solvol were duly applied. With 14000 on the clock it was still running along fine, even the knackered rear shocks didn’t stop it scratching well in the corners, and I began to really enjoy myself on the Yamaha as the winter weather waned.
 
In fact, I became so confident that I lunched it. Whilst following a Kraut in a bit of Kent swervery, with no warning he jammed on his anchors for a right turn and ended up blocking the road with his car and caravan. The oncoming vehicle dispelled any ideas I had about going around him, I was left with nowhere to go, so made a satisfying dent in the back of his caravan and smashed a light cluster. The bike didn’t come off too well, either. Forks kinked, various exposed bits damaged but the fairing was unscathed.  Damn and blast, said I.
 
The AA got me home and I pondered the damage. I left a few scruffs and got away with £70 including new sliders. A service was given to appease the old girl and that just about saw the year out. I noticed that the bike never needed any new valve shims and that the tickover was as rough when it came out as when it went in. I thought £45 was a bit steep for this, but having said that it never sounded noisy.

 
Over the next 18 months my interest waned again. I purchased a flat and a car, the bike reduced to commuting chores and the odd evening blast, all of which it handled pretty well with only the odd cable breaking or bulb blowing. Only when my girlfriend’s father expressed an interest in bikes, did I get the urge again; just as well, as the woman had champagne tastes and I had a beer income.
 
I started doing the servicing myself with the aid of Haynes. I had to fit new Lazers and replace the Motad as well as pads (8000 mile life), I tried an Alfa exhaust this time, loud and reduced top speed to 115mph. I’d never seen anything near the reported 130mph, 120mph with the Motad was the best I had.
 
Next problem, the starter button fell to bits and it was too heavy (450lbs) to bump. Finally, some peds got fed up with pissing themselves with laughter at my antics and gave a push. I repaired the button with Superglue and solder. A little later, just when I needed it most to annoy a driver who wanted to take over the whole road, the horn button did a similar trick. Naturally, you can’t buy a horn button, you have to buy a whole switch cluster for £40. Big Yams have common switchgear so a XS750 item was bought from a breaker for £4.
 
By 23000 miles, just before the MOT, the indicators stopped indicating. Tried the relay first, no difference, then the self canceller box from a 350 Powervalve was fitted (£2 and £4 respectively from breakers).  Then all the brakes started sticking, trouble with funny metal screws and application of Copaslip sorted that. It passed the MOT after some nasty comments about the exhaust, I don’t like it much myself but I’m stuck for what to put on it next,
 
What can I say to sum the bike up? It still looks alright, but I'll have to sort the frame paint out before the next winter (maybe stove enamelling is the answer). It runs well with minimal servicing from my unskilled hands. Only quick rot electrics and exhausts have spoilt the picture so far. 23000 miles is nothing really, and I expect a lot more than twice that before I start looking for a replacement.
 
Dick Underwood