Friday 24 December 2021

MZ ETZ251

As the wall had not yet come down it was a genuine MZ ETZ251 I bought in July 1989. Having too many interests, it meant that I could not go mad when buying a motorcycle. Also, I objected to paying over the odds for insurance, road tax, etc. Especially as the MZ is suitable for commuting, weekend riding and touring. This I know because it was my third MZ.

My introduction to the marque was a TS150. Not a bad little bike, especially as it took two of us on a grand tour of Europe. A TS250 followed, which also managed the European tour. I managed to skip the ETZ250 and bought the new 251 just as they came on to the market. The big differences between it and the TS250 were the disc brake and oil pump. Performance was the same.

One reason for buying new is that I have visions of buying a bike owned by someone who treats a motorcycle much as | do. To me, a bike is for getting around on, not as the pride and joy with only tender loving care in mind. Naturally, the bike has the necessary servicing and repairs, but not much else. When I bought the bike new my concerns did not stretch to the dealer, they had sold MZs for years and it was the second bike that I bought from them.

MZs being a bit old in design, need careful running in. So the tightness of a new bike was as expected. Because purchase took place at the end of the holidays it was not used a great deal. Over the winter the runs were all local. Even so, it seemed at times to be a bit tight, but then MZs always feel and sound a bit funny. In all other respects the bike was running well.

Come Easter, which was early in 1990, I set off for a weekend camp at Hay-on-Wye. I was toddling along nicely on a cold damp morning. In retrospect the engine didn't seem too happy, but then it was an MZ. It was a straight, long hill. I was doing about fifty after overtaking a van. Next thing, I was wrestling with the heap and ended up sliding down the road. Fortunately, I suffered only a bruised toe and elbow. One of the MZ plastic panniers had broken off, the screen was smashed and the peg slightly bent. Otherwise, it was OK. I picked myself up, the van driver stopped but went on his way when I assured him that all was OK. The screen went into the ditch, the pannier held in place with a strap. I returned home.

As it was still under guarantee I took it back to the dealer. Obviously, it had seized, so required a cylinder re-bore and a new piston. These were all sorted and I duly got the bike back. It didn’t seem much different, but I put this down to the new piston. A little later I was on my way to another camping weekend when the bike seized again. This time I was ready and avoided falling off. For the rest of the weekend I took things easy.


Anyhow, I decided to mug up on the causes of seizure in two strokes - overheating caused by mistiming seemed to be the probable cause. Now, I had never bothered with timing on previous MZs, so it was with some trepidation that the dial test indicator was inserted and a bulb connected across the points. After three attempts I knew I was doing it correctly. Still, the timing was miles out. 2.5mm BTDC’s the setting, but the actual reading was around 10mm BTDC. Naturally, I suspected a dodgy set of points.


Well, I set the timing spot on. When I started the bike the transformation was obvious - the damn thing had never been set from new. If nothing else, it shows the sort of abuse that MZs can withstand. It also taught me a great deal about a certain type of dealer. Now the bike ran fine, felt fine and - surprise, surprise - ticked over. Besides replacing the points once, and setting them very occasionally, it wasn’t touched for 20000 miles. Once resolved, no more major problems occurred. Minor ones, of course, happened, usually occurring at the worst of times.

One summer a member of the MZ Riders' Club organised a tour around Scotland. Basically a series of pre-booked sites that we rode between, singly and in groups however one wanted to go. It was around 300 miles from home, the start, which naturally was done over the back roads. Skirting Edinburgh was the only occasion I had to deal with heavy main roads. The tour went well until the top of Scotland. Durness is the nearest village to Cape Wrath, one of our stops. A bar near to the site meant it'd been a good evening, so I was a bit late off the next morning. I had just left the site when it happened, the chain broke.

When the chain breaks on an MZ it usually takes the plastic chain case with it. And it did. Luckily, there was one rider left who'd experienced the same thing a few years before and always had a spare chain. Fitting it was fun but fairly easy. Obviously, with the extra load I was carrying the chain had snapped. Later I bought a new chain for the guy, plus another one and chain guard for myself.

It was the following year when touring the West Country that the next occasion for concern arose. Suddenly, the bike wouldn't go. Then it would start, run a few hundred yards and then stop again. Typically, it was drizzling. Everything checked out, even the plug sparked. I couldn't work it out so put in the spare plug - that solved it, the old one was breaking down in the combustion chamber. Later in the year, again two-up, on a damp day the same thing happened. Carrying a spare plug’s essential with an MZ.

Really, that is it as far as problems were concerned. A two-up holiday trip to Ireland was uneventful as far as the bike was concerned. For anyone interested, forget what you might think about Ireland. Southern Ireland is a great place for bikers who want to tour, but not speed. Campsites are fine and the cafes in every town must be the best in Europe - yes, they are that good.

Now, as the fifth birthday comes up, 20000 miles have appeared on the dial. In reality, nearer 21000 miles. It might not be a lot by some standards, but as I live near work, commuting mileage was low. At the end of last year we moved out into the sticks, the eight mile commute becoming a fifty mile trek. A couple of rides in the winter confirmed my decision to let the train take the strain. With a new house needing sorting, a few weekend rides kept the bike in running order. It always started - choke on, two kicks and off the motor would go. Even after three or four weeks of inactivity.


With the arrival of spring, and more importantly the end of icy roads, I decided to use the bike for work. From where I now live, it’s possible to travel halfway into the city via country lanes. These are much more enjoyable than the main road route. Riding down the white-line, passing static and slow moving cagers, becomes rather boring after a time, especially when it has to be all the way.

For the last few weeks the mileage has built up. There was a small problem with the kickstart slipping. Only resolved by replacing the whole mechanism with one out of a scrapped bike. Why it slipped was not obvious, the whole unit looked the same as the replacement. During this exercise I suspect I managed to break the oil pump. It's attached to the same cover as the kickstart mechanism. When replacing the cover the pump failed to line up with the drive slot, and the whack I gave it to get it on broke the pump casing. Typically, that’s the only Japanese bit on the bike and it could not withstand the usual MZ treatment. The pump still worked. A dose of Araldite had reduced the leak to an acceptable level until a decision was made on the solution - to fit a new pump or convert the bike to pre-mix.


I'd, anyway, decided to buy anew bike. One choice was an MZ 500 but the price was a bit steep. A re-manufactured Honda CB400N was decided upon, which means I can keep the MZ. Being the last of the genuine East German MZs it might actually be worth something. As it is, the fork seal’s just gone and the caliper is sticking. The 251 will need a bit of a rebuild when I get the Honda but I think it’s worth the effort.

David Usher