Thursday 31 May 2012

Suzuki GS650



My local dealer had just taken on an immaculate, six month old 650 Kat with only 2000 miles on the clock and Avon Roadrunner tyres on the wheels. A change of bank manager plus a little hustling that saw the price reduced from £1300 to £1100 and it was mine. At such a bargain price the dealer insisted that there could be no guarantee, so praying that the 650 engine was as bulletproof as the other GS motors I rode off into the sunset.

For the first few weeks everything was fine. In deference to the newness of the engine I kept the revs below 6000, 85mph in top gear, for a 1000 miles or so. The handling felt pretty stable (if a little vague) helped, no doubt, by the excellent riding position. The bars were short and flat, the footrests slightly rear-set and rubber mounted, helping to absorb some of the tingling vibes common to all straight fours.

There was a rough patch between 4500 and 5000rpm that blurred the mirrors.The massive five gallon fuel tank was cleverly waisted, making the bike feel much narrower than it actually was. The dipped seat gave the impression of sitting in rather than on the bike and also made it possible to put both feet flat on the ground.

The front twin discs provided excellent stopping power with plenty of feel. The rear however was not so clever, prone to locking up at the slightest touch. The forks managed to soak up all but the worst bumps, although hard braking caused a fair amount of dive. The rear shocks had five spring preload and four rebound damping settings - for solo use I settled on position three in both cases.

Having once ridden a BMW I was a bit nervous about the shaft drive. Anyone who has experienced that disconcerting rising and falling of the suspension common to all German flat twins (not to mention big Yams) will understand my apprehension. Suzuki, however, appear to have got it right. The only difference I could notice between the shaft on the 650 and the chain on a 550 Kat I owned was how quiet was the shaft. Also, how little adjustment it's needed and how little grease it throws over the back tyre. The gearbox, unlike a boxer, was smooth, light and slick in action. So far so good.

With 3000 miles on the clock the engine started to loosen up nicely so I began to explore the upper reaches of the rev band. This turned out to be where the engine made most of its power, 6000rpm the point of no return. Below this figure the engine pulled reasonably, if not startlingly well. Once above it, however, the reason for the sporty styling became more apparent. What had at first sight seemed a sports styled tourer was now beginning to show its true colours.

Unfortunately, most of this new found grunt turned out to be almost unusable due to extremely hairy high speed handling. At anything over 90mph the vagueness I'd earlier noticed rapidly developed into a full blown weave, the first of which caught me unawares and almost ended terminally. I eventually traced the problem to the tyres. I fitted a Metzeler ME77 at the front and a Pirelli Phantom at the back. Happily this turned out to be money well spent. Not only did it look like I might now survive until my next birthday I was able to hold the throttle right against the stop.

It would run up to an indicated 120mph without so much as a twitch. The Metz was probably the best front tyre I've ever used. It was stable at high speed, cornered brilliantly and never so much as whimpered under the most lunatic of braking abuse. I finally changed it after 10,000 miles simply because most of the tread was gone but it still performed perfectly. By contrast, the newer and supposedly improved ME33 Laser lasted about 8000 miles but started to play up after 5500 miles. The rear Phantoms go for about 4 or 5000 miles depending on how much I abuse the throttle.

With the handling sorted and the engine fully run in and performing nicely, I spent the next few weeks finding out what the Kat would let me get away with. Ground clearance turned out to be massive for a Jap four (this was 1983). The folding footrests touched down first, acting as a warning that the silencer would be next.

Shutting the throttle when well cranked over, however, caused the rear tyre to break away momentarily due to the precise action of the shaft compared to a chain. The front brake continued to work well, although I must admit that I greased the sliding pins every time I changed the engine oil (1500-2000 miles). The rear caliper, however, seized one of its pistons after 6000 miles. In all fairness, it was as much my fault as theirs, as I hardly used the back brake thanks to the combination of strong front brake and engine braking. I now use it a bit more often and the problem has never recurred.

With about 6000 miles on the speedo the noise from the cam-box started to increase, suggesting that valve clearances needed attention. All GS Suzukis have a bucket and shim system which is easy to work on provided you have the special tool needed to depress the buckets. Two of the exhaust valve clearances had closed up slightly. Apart from the odd check over this is the only maintenance the valvegear has needed in 25000 miles.

Soon after this I was silly enough to let a friend have a go on the bike, the result a front end rebuild. Whilst this was going on I adapted the forks to take a set of adjustable Telefix handlebars. At the twist of an allen key the riding position could be changed to suit my mood, from completely crazy to sensible touring. Adding an extra 25cc of oil to each fork leg transformed the tautness of the forks.

With the bike back together, I decided a holiday was in order and, armed with a toothbrush and spare pair of underpants (brown), I set off for France. No sooner had I landed on French soil than a hole appeared in the end of one of the silencers' baffles, plugged with a mixture of Gum Gum and French Brilleau pads. Thankfully, the repair lasted the three weeks I was away.

Back in Blighty I decided to remove the exhaust to see if a more permanent repair was possible. After removing the system, the silencer fell off as soon as its clamp was loosened, hitting the ground and dissolving into a heap of red dust. A Motad Neta fitted on first time and outperformed the stock system save for a slight hesitation at 2000rpm. The original system lasted only two years, the Neta is still there after four years looking just as good. Goodridge hose was added to clear some sponginess that had appeared in the front brake.

For the most part I find the bike hard to fault. It can be hurled into corners even with the brakes hard on, like no other bike of its weight. Changing the chosen line halfway round is not the futile exercise on some bikes, a slight shift of buttocks usually sufficient. Braking in mid corner, however, causes the bike to sit up in quite an alarming manner. Much better to lean it over a bit more and hang on tight.

Part of the handling finesse comes from the excellent riding position that I'd only change if the bike was solely used for town work when the bars would need to come back a couple of inches. The pillion seat looks and feels like a board.

Apart from the oil changes, servicing takes place when the bike needs it. Carbs are balanced when the engine refuses to tickover cleanly. Ignition is electronic and has never been touched. The original battery lasted 5 years and I only had to top it up once. The fork oil seals blew at 5000 miles, so a set of gaiters were fitted along with new 'uns. The swinging arm bearings were replaced at 20,000 miles. I managed to crack the oil cooler at both ends by over-tightening the nuts - a common error overcome by leaving the hoses attached at the oil cooler end.

The general finish has been pretty good over the years. I'm a lazy bastard so I generally only clean the bike twice a year, but do coat cleaned parts in grease on which the crud then builds up and can be wiped away. I have had to paint the swinging arm, the wheels and calipers. The engine cases were originally painted matt black but when this started to fall off, I took all the paint off and polished up the cases.

I hope this hasn't sounded too much like a Suzuki press release because, believe me, I have tried to be as objective as possible. Sure, the bike has its faults. Compared to modern litre bikes it's heavy and any one of the breed of super fast 600s would see it off, but as an overall package of performance, economy, fun and practicality I've found it hard to better. And, in my opinion it's still one of the best looking bikes in the known universe.

Hugh Scythe

****************************************************

Throttle to the stop, long stretch of empty motorway, top gear slog, revs slowly increasing as the old horror edges its way past 120mph on the clock. The stock suspension had done over 30,000 miles, wasn't the stuff of dreams even when brand new - 120mph thus turned up a fairly large weave as 500lbs of shaft driven metal battled against the elements. And yet I didn't want to back off!

122...123...124...125...126mph. The air blast over the naked machine and my prone body was wicked, rattling away at my visor and half deafening me with its roar. The engine and exhaust noise were lost to the airstream but the secondary vibes through all points of contact indicated in their ferocity that the DOHC four cylinder engine was at its limit. And yet I didn't give up.

127...128...129...130...131mph! Run out of throttle, can hardly see through the vibration and wind haze. A new sensation grinds through the whole chassis, emanating from the shaft drive, which feels like it's going to break up. Two lanes needed to contain the weave. I feel weirdly resistant to backing off, like an AIDS victim having his last moment of glory before ending it all, save that I ain't got the virus and have a lot to live for.

I felt a twitch, a shimmer in the tyres, a stutter in the motor, a momentary seizure in the shaft.... aaargh, I don't want to die. So I chicken out, slam on the anchors, shut off the throttle and lift myself up into the airstream. 60mph's lost rapidly and the hazy white object a few hundred yards in front turns out to be a f..king police car, which I potter past at 70mph, hoping like hell that they aren't going to pull me for suspicious behaviour... no officer, I'm not shaking like this because of drugs or alcohol, it's because I thought my motorcycle was going to break up on me at 130mph. They ignored me. God must still love me.

More than can be said for the '82 GS650GT, which two days after the land speed record complained with rumbling main bearings and shot universal joints. I'd only had the bike for half a year and ten thousand miles. It'd been nicely run in by some old codger who'd never taken it above 75mph and thought that exceeding 7000 revs was dangerous. He'd looked rather taken aback when I'd tried to wheelie it, slammed down sideways, leaving a huge crater in the tarmac outside his house. Nothing broke so I deduced that it was a good buy.

There followed much madness. I know, I know, if I wanted a sportster I should've bought a GPz or GSX rather than a stodgy old tourer but for the kind of money I had there was no chance of buying anything sporty that was also half decent. So the GT had to suffice. Being heavy and shaft driven meant the Suzi needed a BMW style cornering technique - set her up on line, and go round on a gradually increasing throttle. But sod that, the way me mates ride I wouldn't have got out of the street with them still in sight.

Wallowing through bends thus became a minor form of art. Hanging way off the top heavy mule much the best way to compensate for a lack of tautness and ground clearance. It worked after a fashion, about as effective as colic irrigation at clearing the bowels and at least it was so solidly built that anything else that got in the way would be knocked out of the game.

Because the bike felt like it was falling apart if I tried to change gear whilst leant over, it also meant that the mill was strung out to improbable revs, taken right out the other side of the red sector in second or third. Made the kind of noise that caused millions of birds to flutter upwards when in the countryside, a somewhat frightening scene as they tended to cut out the light and loiter as if working out suitable vengeance. And the vibration numbed my fingers and made me lose all feeling in my groin. Light bulbs exploded, the clocks tried to jump out of their brackets and minor bolts fell out of the engine.

That accounted for the time one of the exhaust headers came loose, on the overrun sounding like a truck load of terrorists were letting go with their guns - hilarious when riding around the police cordons in the City, the armed cops going into a poise with their machine- guns, practically jumping out of their skins. I didn't bother to stop when asked as I felt sure they wouldn't gun me down just for making a lot of noise.

The bolts that secure the exhaust clamps break off when you try to undo them, seized in with heat and corrosion. But they can be drilled and tapped to take a smaller bolt, a simple and effective repair. Because of the age of the machine, what I assume were original silencers were merrily rotting away and by 21000 miles it was in desperate need of a 4-1 (£50 from a breaker). Fortunately, it ran fine on the standard jets, though the pipes did have a nice cherry red glow in the dark!

This lean running might explain why she was turning in 55 to 60mpg despite the fact that I was thrashing the arse off the mill every opportunity I got. Oil consumption was so minor that I was forced to change it every 3000 miles, or so, just to keep the gearchange relatively slick. It wasn't so much the box that could turn nasty but the directness of the shaft that could spurn it on to make some interesting noises on old oil.

Other maintenance tasks consisting of keeping the tyre pressures up (they dropped by 5psi over a week), sticking a screwdriver in the airfilter and knocking off the centerstand after it dug in and nearly had me off at 80mph! Luckily, she came with a brand new set of Metz tyres that 10,000 miles of madness failed to turn illegal.

Though the bike probably wasn't designed to do it, I managed to cruise at 100 to 110mph for a couple of hours at a time, without really ruining my body or to any obvious detriment to the engine. Strangely, and encouragingly, the bike felt smoother at the ton than it did at 70mph and was just as efficient! My replica tooled friends were somewhat amazed that the GS could stay within their shadow for most of the time, admittedly more down to our penal speeding fines than clever engineering.

That all came to an end when the mains went. Vile vibration, insufficient performance to see off a 125 and about 25mpg. Something had to be done. MCN was bought and the breakers phoned. There were several 650 motors on offer. I ended up with the more powerful GS650M Katana mill (73 against 64hp) for £275, not heard running.

The reassembled bike started up after a lot of backfiring but I knew immediately that it wasn't a brilliant motor, just by the way the whole thing shook away at tickover. It had the edge on performance, though, growling off up the road fast enough to shake the bars as the front end went light.

I had no faith in its longevity, so headed for the nearest dealer. Got £1250 off a new 600 Bandit that was discounted to £4100. The GS650GT originally cost me £650, which means I came out ahead of the deal. The Bandit shows the old GS650 up as a useless pile of crap, but for under a grand you're not likely to buy anything much better.

Ian Hollicks

****************************************************

The times were too hard. Everywhere I looked it was boom time. Except that I'd lost my job and did not really want to work as a security guard for less than I was making twenty years ago. This didn't go down well with the unemployment people who threatened to cut off all my benefits! Only one thing for it, the last of my dosh - six hundred notes - went on a weary old GS650GT Suzuki four. The owner reckoned it'd go around the clock and wasn't amused when I said it looked like it already had! No sense of humour, these days.

Was I going on an around the world tour, fuelled by hope and glory? Nope, I was joining the ranks of Bristol DR's in search of mega-bucks if not fame and fortune. Reluctantly, or so it seemed to me, I was given a freelance job. What this amounted to was my staying at home all day until summoned for a long distance trip. I was told that a more permanent position might be offered it I did as I was told, worked hard and didn't f..k up.

The first job was phoned in, details taken, full of excitement and joy I rushed out to the GT. Would the bastard start? Nope. Half an hour later I phoned back in despair, which was fitting as I got the sack. Probably the shortest employment in history. A week later I'd fixed the GT's electrics by tearing the mess out and running it on a total loss system (that is, the battery connected to the ignition not the charging circuit and put on the charger overnight).

At this point it dawned on me that I had no money. Cowboy security firms are always good for a laugh. I was shocked when it was suggested that I would be willing to work for next to nothing and provide my own vehicle. My look of amazement was confused with that of joy at being offered a job. It was agreed, with a nod and a wink, that the GT would provide a perfect disguise as we roared around various industrial estates. The boss was happy enough for me to do a 60 to 70 hour week, which brought the money up to slightly above the poverty level.

It was quite good fun to roar around on the GT for a couple of hours late at night but thereafter it became a bit of pain, especially if it rained. This was summer, God knows what I'd do in the winter! I didn't have that problem, though. After three weeks I found some vandals trying to break into a warehouse. Rather than confront them I used the radio, told them to call the cops in. This gross cowardice was rewarded with the sack. I'd been skiving off as well and claiming extra hours.

The GT performed fine, started first press of the button and could be thrown around without too much hassle. Just as well, because the brakes were worn out, made funny noises and didn't really want to stop the bike. It ran out of steam around 8500rpm, probably down to the 65000 miles on the clock and six owners in the registration document. The gearbox was still slicker than most new Hondas despite the shaft drive joints being a bit worn - they whined in protest and rattled on the overrun. There was hardly any oil in the casing! It was jolly nice not to have to bother about a chain.

I made a second stab at DR work, this time phoning up some London companies who advertised in MCN. Told a lot of lies about working as a DR in Bristol for years (rather than minutes) and was summoned for a few interviews. It was fortunate that my sister had a spare room in her house in Hackney (the first she knew about her good fortune was when I turned up on her doorstep). A job was found in the City, though the other DR's looked askance at the state of the GT - the 100mph cruise down the M4 caused a heavy leak from the cylinder head gasket. I'd also had to ignore a large weave that had the thing bouncing in its lane. Kept the cagers at bay, anyway. Before the trek south I'd fixed the electrics with used bits, was worried that they might go down again but they never did.

The GT was a bit ponderous and slow in acceleration for the heavily packed cages in London. Not knowing where I was going didn't help, either, and it took a while to get up to speed. The first few days fair flew by, with plenty of drops and pick-ups. On the fourth day, disaster. The top box's lid opened as I was charging through the traffic, the GT bouncing around over the ruined road on soggy suspension, spread about a dozen packages down Regent Street. I lost half of them to the suddenly laughing and berserk cagers, the others were ruined. I knew what was going to happen when I returned to the office - the sack - and I wasn't wrong!

More lies about working as a DR for years in London and Bristol secured another position. A couple of showers had eaten away at the poor old Suzuki - acid rain wasn't a joke - making it look like rat of the year and a magnet for bored cops. Only I didn't pull over when requested, ignored some wild salutations. One cop even tried to run after me, but a bit of throttle saw him eating the Suzuki's rotted exhaust fumes. It just meant I had to change my route for a while. There are still loads of rotted bikes masquerading as DR hacks in Central London, relatively easy to merge with the pack.

After a couple of weeks, I was in desperate need of a new front end. The brake didn't really work and the suspension was down on its stops, felt like the springs were broken! Wandering around London breakers, there were lots of recent stuff but old GS bits were becoming rare. In the end, an XJ900S front end was hammered on by a keen breaker for a ruinous £175. The geometry was subtly different, making it want to hammer down to the tarmac through sharp corners but a boot down soon sorted that. Much improved braking - so good it threatened to snap the headstock off - made for much faster times through London. A bit of the old cut and thrust; sure gave my muscles a good work-out, the GT weighing more than many 750 fours.

Fuel was around the 35mpg mark, tyres lasted 7000 miles and I was putting oil in the engine every day but never bothered to change it. I never did any engine maintenance, either - the eight valves didn't need any attention and the carbs were too worn to take kindly to any balancing attempts. In many ways it wasn't an ideal DR hack, but I seemed to adapt to its manners and the need to ride like a lunatic through London; my times were just good enough to keep me in steady employment for the next four months.

By then winter was descending, I had a large pile of readies burning a hole in my pocket and the poor old GT had gone dead above 6000 revs but would still swing through the day like an elephant let loose in a china shop. My sister dropped heavy hints that I'd outstayed my welcome - she didn't take well to my oil, mud and rain splattered form stamping through her once pristine home.
Everything pointed to a sojourn on the Spanish coast. I decided that the GT would just about manage to get me there, if not back! A miraculous return of power happened when I'd dumped the air-filter which had a deep layer of crud impeding the air flow. 9000rpm was possible.

A gentle 90 to 100mph buzz down to Spain over the next week proved good fun, with mad Frog's trying to knock me off and the Spanish roads finally doing for the rear shocks. Fuel reached an all time low of 20mpg! In Barcelona the bugger didn't want to start until fed with a new set of spark plugs - the first in 12000 miles under my ownership, they might've been the originals for all I know. A cheap apartment was found in Valencia, the usual round of biking, booze and birds followed. Some chap from Glasgow made me an offer of £950 for the GT after I'd spent hours cleaning it up. He sent me a postcard saying he'd gotten home alright. Amazing! It's probably still going strong.

Kevin Allen

****************************************************

I knew exactly what I wanted, the definitive, ultra reliable Jap middleweight, the Suzuki GS550. Absolutely ideal for my needs. I wanted a W or X reg, clean and tidy, mileage fairly academic. Looking through the local paper, a secondhand dealer from whom I had bought a bike before was offering a V reg GS for £400 and it was stated to be tatty.

I thought I might as well take a look. How wrong can you be? Tatty was a total understatement, it was just a wreck on wheels! Anyway, I went in to see the shop owner to pass the time of day, that was when I noticed a very clean, black Y reg GS650GT, shaft drive, in the corner of the showroom. On closer inspection it was very tidy, had 19000 miles on the clock, a Motad 4-1 and a poxy Invader fairing.

I immediately thought this is just the job, shaft drive and all. Anyway, I took it for a quick spin, the motor felt solid and everything appeared fine, apart from a well worn front tyre. I haggled and got £200 off for cash. Soon as I arrived home, the fairing came off (it was held on with brackets that could have supported the Forth Bridge) and my old Euro Design rack went on. It was originally off a CB900FZ. It wasn't difficult to put on, using the appropriate spacers. Then on went a top box just to finish things off. That was August 1987.

Oil and filter was changed at 20,500 miles, judging by the reasonable state of the oil, it signalled to me that the previous owner had not only looked after the outside but, more importantly, the inside as well. I assumed the bike had had a gentle life.

New plugs went in at 20,700 miles and a week later the arrow shaped Michelin (which had made the handling bloody weird, it kept wanting to fall into corners) was replaced with an ME33 Lazer to match the rear ME99A. The result was a massive improvement in handling, it now actually went round corners without trying to touch the mirrors down!

I was very pleased with the bike. The shaft drive was very positive, as was the gear change, and power delivery was well metered - good low and midrange power allied to clean carburation makes town riding a doddle and very smooth, despite the mass of the across the frame four.

Two up handling was a bit dubious unless you jacked the rear shocks up to maximum and kept the tyre pressures at the top of their range. A weave was especially noticeable in long sweeping bends unless everything was set up perfectly. As tyres wear handling deteriorates...... a word of warning, here, I replaced the rear with a 130 section tubeless tyre, same as originally fitted, and found the old tubeless tyre had been fitted with an inner tube because the 130 section is too big to seal properly. A 120 section tyre solves the problem.

This was my first shaft drive motorcycle and I was really impressed with it, so much so that I changed the shaft oil at 24,000 miles - it was very dirty and probably original. A full engine service was done at 25,300 miles, although I do all the other stuff myself. Remarkably, the tappets and carbs weren't far out and the ignition was spot on and the plugs didn't need replacing.

Not long after the service, starting became a third or fourth stab at the button affair. Put down to a dry battery and duff plugs. In went new plugs, the battery was topped up and an oil and filter change at 28000 miles. I also added a rear mudflap to stop road crud covering the number plate and light. The three discs brakes had been impressive so warranted the £36 cost of a set of replacement pads.

Around 30,000 miles the handling took a turn for the worse. The bike shimmied about all over the place coming out of the bends, this nasty trait emanated from the rear end. Reason, shot swinging arm bearings. Getting the swinging arm out isn't a difficult job, getting the bearings out is. They had to be beaten out with a special tool - you can't knock them out from the other side because the inside of the swinging arm is blocked off. Bearings cost £30 a pair.

While the swinging arm was out I was able to tackle another problem, oil was leaking out from the engine output shaft into the rubber gaiter that covers the universal joint. At the next oil change (31000 miles) I took the opportunity to add synthetic oil and I swear the bike runs better.

The choice of Metz tyres was a good one. The front lasted 12,400 miles and was good in the wet too. Had a new speedo cable at 33,700 miles, bit expensive at £5.50. The irear tyre was replaced at the same time having done nearly 11000 miles, damn good for a rear boot - probably down to the lazy power delivery.

The whole bike was going as well as the day I picked it up. To reinforce this belief I managed 110mph two up, a bit frantic at that speed but entirely believable that it could achieve its quoted 120mph solo. Speed is not related to mpg, it does 45mpg whatever you do with the throttle. The bike is comfortable for a 100 miles which coincides with reserve - should be at least five gallons capacity!

Just before 34000 miles the clutch cable went. I was halfway home from work when it snapped. Have you ever tried riding three miles, mostly in a built up area, without stopping. It was a bloody miracle. I got to the local Suzuki dealer, bought the cable (£10.95, daylight robbery) and put it on there and then; good job it wasn't raining!

The steering head bearings needed replacing at 34,500 miles. They lasted quite well, I suppose, although it appeared there had been little or no grease put in at the factory. The new ones went in packed with grease. This brought the steering back to life again. Don't they use grease in Japan?

As 38000 miles came up on the clock, the engine began to run very roughly and noisily, due to having a hole in the exhaust. It had done 12000 miles since the engine was touched. It deserved a service. This was duly done and we were also able to braze up the hole in the exhaust, not bad for £10 on top of the service bill (which included a fork oil change). Would have cost me well over £100 for a brand new Motad. Riding home after the service it felt like a new bike - smooth, quiet, responsive.

Up to now I haven't said anything about the camchain - because I haven't had to. It is a self adjusting unit and at the service they reckoned it was good for a few more thousand miles. 40,000 miles out of a camchain is okay by me. They also confirmed that compression was still good.

Coming home from work in the dark, the headlamp blew. £6.40 for a new one. By 39000 miles it needed a new set of front pads, expensive at £27 but they had lasted 14000 miles, so I wasn't complaining. On the whole the brakes were good in the dry, slightly less so in the wet. The rear disc is actually very usable, progressive but firm - I have never managed to lock up the back wheel.

Whilst doing a check over of the bike I noticed that the battery's plates were covered in white fur. It was becoming harder to start so a new battery was shoved in, a Blue Label for £20, half the price of a Yuasa original.

Five months after brazing the exhaust it blew again, only this time it was much worse. There was nothing for it, £125 for another Motad, at least it was very easy to fit. Just after this a rear shock broke coming home from work. Good job I wasn't going very fast or cornering at the time. I was almost opposite a secondhand dealer when it happened. He agreed to put the bike in his workshop if I'd buy a pair of shocks from him. Two days later I was £74 worse off, but at least I had a new pair of dual rate R and Rs. On the lowest settings they were firmer than the originals.

A few days later there was a nasty, whirring noise from the top end. I opted for a linked camchain rather than an endless one which required removal of the crank and hundreds of hours of labour at £18 an hour - it would be cheaper to pay off the Mexican national debt. Instead, it cost me £91. The damage that can be done if the old camchain gives up on you does not bear thinking about.

Riding home that evening the bike felt as smooth as the day I had bought it four years before. In the time I've had the bike it has done nothing but convince me that I made the right choice. As soon as the mileometer turned 40,000 miles I went out and bought a new pair of handlebar grips as a way of thanking the bike for keeping me on the road for all but a handful of days.

To sum up. The throttle is a bit heavy, as is the whole bike, and the tank is far too small. I can live with that, because on the plus side it has only once failed to start, it is smooth, fast enough, comfortable, handles okay and has got a damn near bullet-proof engine.

I have done 21000 miles on it and am looking forward to the next 21000 miles. Can't understand why the GS didn't outsell the CX500. Looks a hundred times better, amongst other things. As you might have already gathered I'm dead chuffed with my 650GT and intend to keep it for the foreseeable future.

Anyway, it's such a contrast to my H reg Honda VFR750 (the bike mags were right, it is a brilliant bike). I can certainly feel the eight years difference between them. That's no discredit to the GS, back in the early eighties it was a good bike and with retro biking coming in for the nineties, the GS is right up there with them. Well done Suzuki!

P.Cooper

****************************************************

I picked up my Suzuki GS650 Katana, with 34000 miles and seven years of abuse under its wing. Sold in 1984 it was one of the last small Katanas made and, unfortunately, had not survived the ministrations of four different owners in too good a condition. These days, they are quite rare beasts and I consoled myself with the thought that at 500 notes I still had some spare dosh to tart her up.

The most immediate problems were a clunky gearbox that missed as many gears as it made, and a disinclination to rev beyond 8000rpm. This was to prove a useful safety factor as when it spat out of gear the revs could not soar into the red. The gearchange linkage was extremely sloppy with well worn ball joints where the little rubber gaiters had worn away. The air filter had a layer of crud only matched in wretchedness by the rust that was lurking under the home-made 4-1 exhaust. The Suzuki dealer was having a sale of older parts and much to my amazement came up with a new gearchange linkage, 4-1 exhaust and air filter for £125.

A pleasant weekend was spent fitting all these bits, I could barely wait to see how the bike ran. First and second gear were still a bit dubious but it could be flicked up through the other three with something approaching elan. The gentle burble out of the exhaust would have been most pleasant, did not the relative silence out of the shining silencers reveal the engine as an old dog.

True, it would now rev beyond eight grand, but the din coming from the top end dissuaded such abuse. Piercing vibes assaulted my hands beyond 4000rpm..... the local dealer checked the valves and balanced the carbs for a reasonable £45. Thereafter, the vibes were only really noticeable between 40 and 60mph in top gear and if I tried to do more than the ton.

The bike was impressive enough to justify some effort on the cycle part front. The tank, panels and mudguard were resprayed black, engine covers and wheels were bead-blasted - it would have been nice to dump the whole engine in the bead-blaster but it wouldn’t fit - and the frame was rubbed down and touched up where necessary. The overall result was most impressive, with its brutal looks the Kat still appeared modern and stylish.

Suzuki claimed over 70hp for the DOHC four, but 34000 miles had lost a lot of that, I think, for the bike was hard pressed to get past 110mph, even when screamed into the red in third and fourth. I once managed 120mph but it was like sitting on a massive rocking horse that had been tuned as a sexual aid. The tingling vibes made my wife horny but gave my fingers hell after five minutes.

And, anyway, anything beyond 80mph upset the bike. The rear shocks were still original and the machinations of the shaft drive back end could not be kept under control by their combination of a lack of damping and springing. After the first fast ride I pulled over to turn them up to maximum only to find that they already were.

The front forks were not much better, they sort of shook over bumps when banked over in a bumpy corner. The only good thing that could be said for fast riding was that backing off the throttle would tighten up the line through bends, so there was always a safe way of getting out of dangerous situations when you thought you were about to overcook it.

In fact, the bike often felt bloody horrible to ride. The wide, long tank splayed the rider out and spoilt the otherwise good relationship between pegs and handlebars. The suspension was at once both soft and harsh, so any and every bump seemed to be relayed straight up your arms and spine. The seat was comfortable for about 25 miles before I had to start twitching about, although I have done 200 miles without too much pain.

Another nasty turned out to be the disc brakes. These had newish pads, the twin front discs able to come to a screeching halt under the mildest of pressure but after 3500 miles they were worn out and the caliper seized up in protest at my trying to use them with metal pads! I rarely used the rear, so had no problems from it - if anything it was less powerful than a drum! Four thousand miles later the Ferodo pads were worn out again, but it has to be said they provided good braking in both the wet and the dry when not down to the metal.

For such a heavy bike with a shaft drive, fuel economy was surprisingly good. There were times, when ridden mildly, that 60mpg was possible, although normally 50mpg was nearer the truth. 40mpg on a fast motorway thrash was also possible, but that required over a ton on the clock and the vibes tended to discourage such blatant abuse.

Most of my mates owned LCs, for some reason, and the Katana could match them for speed and acceleration - I could just open up in fifth from 40mph onwards while they had to play madly with their gearboxes making an awful din out of their expansion chambers and covering the landscape in blue smoke; so uncivilized!

The GS was a bit out of it on those kind of bends that had you going back on yourself and I had to play tail end Charlie until I could open up the bouncing blancmange on the next bit of straight. It was fine on motorways, would buzz along at 75 to 80mph with a degree of stability that was surprising given its knackered suspension - a little bit of accelerative ability in hand for emergency avoidance manoeuvres. The price of the Kat’s stability is not just huge wobbles in bends but the need for massive muscular input to match the flickability of the light and nimble LCs.

The stability went to pot when the Metz tyres were down to 2mm. The first time it went into a speed wobble at 85mph was enough for me - the great hulk wobbled across two lanes of motorway, the bars twitching viciously and my sphincter muscle going AWOL. I survived, much to my surprise, replacing the tyres the very next day. Tyres last about 5000 rear, 7750 front, and you can see me paranoidly checking tread depth at about 4000 miles.

I did try some Roadrunners but was appalled to find that the rear slid viciously under power in the wet. It came back on line after frightening the shit out of me, but it happened so often that I was relieved to swap them with a breaker’s slightly used set of Metzs and £15.

In the year since I bought the bike I managed to put 13000 miles on the clock with no apparent wear to the motor and apart from the consumables no great expense (the shaft drive meant the saving in shot chains and sprockets compensated for tyre and pad wear to a certain extent). However, in the last week the gearchange has become very cranky and the main fuse keeps blowing. Yesterday, the battery was dead, a sure sign that either the rectifier or the alternator are burnt out, a sadly typical Suzuki problem. Time to sell it? No way!

The Kat has gotten into my blood and for all its faults I love roaring around the countryside on her. The GS series of engines is one of the toughest around, the valves hardly ever need attention and even the camchains are sound for 50 to 60,000 miles. The 650 model does suffer a leaking cylinder head gasket (mine weeped slightly but not enough to make fixing it a necessity) and consumed a pint of oil every 300 miles, so a regular check should be made on the oil level - I once ran mine with hardly any oil in there and even that didn’t seem to hurt the engine. Amazing! I’ll fix the electrics, have a look inside the gearbox (god help me), buy some new shocks and do something for the forks, and then I should have a neat looking, useable motorcycle of classic proportions.

Jack Hicks

****************************************************

Raising motorcycles from the dead is a favourite trick of mine. Buy cheaply assuming the worst and hope for the best. Thus it went with a 1984 Suzuki GS650M Katana. The owner was honest enough to admit that it kept blowing fuses despite having a rewound alternator and new rectifier/regulator unit. Several mechanics had tried to find the fault but failed. The motor stuttered into life and then failed almost immediately. The rest of the Kat was in immaculate condition.

I offered £350 and then upped it to £375 but he was not willing to sell for anything like that. I told him to phone me in a week or two if he had second thoughts. 10 days later we both reluctantly agreed on £400 if he delivered the bike to my house.

It took three of us to haul the hefty Suzuki into my living room, where a groundsheet was laid out to avoid ruining the carpet - if I ever become a slum landlord I won't let out to bikers! It was pretty obvious to me that there was something pretty rotten in the wiring, so I tore the whole lot out, keeping just a basic charging and ignition circuit. The problem did not disappear, so I had narrowed it down to connections out of the alternator, the rectifier/regulator or the ignition black box.

The latter is quite tough, so still available cheaply in breakers. It seemed likely that the high voltages the regulator had previously let loose had burnt out some of the circuitry in the ignition unit, which although it had a separate fuse was also connected to the main circuit. After I replaced this everything ran perfectly, much to my relief. I just had the minor problem of wiring the rest of the electrics back in.

This all took about two weeks of shuffling around the massive Kat in the living room, where I could lounge in a chair admiring its lines in a mild alcoholic stupor late at night. I managed to ride the bike out of the house under its own steam, immediately impressed with the relative lightness of handling even at minimal speeds - I had feared that its bulk would be a real handful but need not have worried; once 5mph was up it felt no worse than many a 400 twin.

The bike was in such good nick that I had no qualms about heading for the nearest motorway to see what it would do. 132mph on the clock, after a bit of a struggle and getting my head down. Stability was near sublime after some of the disastrous fours I've owned in the past. One of the things that had attracted me to the GS was its shaft drive and I was glad to find that this made little difference to the handling, although further experimentation in later months did reveal an inordinate amount of care needed in the wet during down-changes if banked over. The back wheel could lock up in a fearful way.

Other than that I could find little to complain about the handling. It was undoubtedly helped by having that massive tank between knees to grip and the sporting riding position that always gave the impression of being in control of the machine - I am long in frame and arm, so the stretched out position suits me down to the ground. Other shapes of rider will have the low seat height to console them.

The seat, despite its attractive sculptured design, was not comfortable for more than 100 miles in a day. No amount of moving around would help the pain - I had to pull over and walk around for five minutes; something thereafter that was repeated every 50 miles. A great pity with a range of over 200 miles. Nothing seemed to help and I was not going to ruin the lines of the GS by fitting some King and Queen abortion, so I had to suffer in silence.

There were other problems in doing long distances. The engine demanded, by way of a nasty gearchange action, an oil change every 700 to 800 miles, although the filter would go ten times that. Tyres had to have more than 3mm, otherwise the stability disappeared and its wayward mass became all too obvious. Although the valves only rarely needed attention the carbs went out of balance more frequently than the oil needed changing. As it was not unknown for me to do more than 500 miles in a day these problems soon became a major hassle, taking quite a bit of the fun out of using the bike as a high speed, long distance tourer. As I usually had a couple of other machines in the backyard this wasn't the end of the world.

I kept the Kat for about 14 months, doing almost 8000 miles of mixed riding without any major problems, although after nine months the regulator did blow, fuses burning out being the first symptom of its demise. No big deal, the local car accessory store had both regulator and rectifier for just a few quid. You have to know how to wire them to make use of this cheapness, getting it wrong can do even more damage to the electrical system.

I was a bit astonished at the rate the front disc pads wore out, I went through nearly three sets in that time and am by no means a desperate, last moment braker - been around far too long for that silly game. They were pattern pads but even if the OE ones last a lot longer they would not justify triple the cost. Braking was good in the dry but a bit of wet weather lag showed up the age of their design - it could be overcome by gently applying the brake every minute to wipe off the excess of water.

Commuting through the winter with heavy rain, fog and ice about caused the engine to stutter on to three and sometimes two cylinders - they could hear my swearing two counties away! There appeared to be no cure for this most dangerous habit. I tried new HT leads and caps, plus dousing the engine in various water repellent sprays. In retro-spect I should have replaced the coils. It would have given my heart an easier time, I hated the way the power would disappear halfway through an overtaking manoeuvre even more than I disliked the way the back wheel would leap sideways when the power suddenly switched back in when all four cylinders decided to fire up. Never was a ride dull in the winter on the Kat.

The GS is still a head turner, its radical styling still different enough to cause comment (usually good) from pedestrians and I fell for its lines. Hard economic times meant something had to go and the Kat's lack of practical value made it the obvious one. That and the premium price I demanded for the still shiny bike (the OE silencers were rather loud but it was otherwise perfect).

A bit of a mixed bag, then, but not so bad that if you love the looks and can afford the running costs it can't be enjoyed. I would buy another at a low price (and their electrical faults mean there are bargains around) but not at the full whack their almost classic status demands, these days. In fact, two days ago I bought a non-running GS550M for £295!

Alain Willis

****************************************************

It was just my luck to buy a 50,000 mile Suzuki GS650GT that was in need of valve shimming. The DOHC head rarely needs much attention but when it goes it's a dealer job. Expensive at £95, but he did throw in an oil change and carb balance. The latter did nothing for the vibes which would blitz the bike at certain revs, especially in the 60 to 80mph cruising range in top gear.

With a shaft drive there was no way the gearing could be easily changed. The shaft drive didn't intrude to any great extent. Only when a bit of vicious braking, down-changing and manoeuvring in bends was indulged, did the back wheel show signs of leaping off the road. But with a rolling mass of over 500lbs and worn, conventional suspension it'd probably have done the same even with a more compliant chain drive.

The gearbox was what you'd expect of a Suzuki that was ten years old. It was slick enough but there were quite frequent false neutrals. Every time I changed gear I had to open the throttle very carefully to make sure proper engagement was achieved. If I rushed through the box like a young hooligan I'd end up with the motor buzzing at 14000 revs as it fell into a false neutral.

The motor wasn't the fastest revving fella in the world. There wasn't really a distinctive power band, just a useful supply of power between 2000 and 8000 revs. There was only a maximum of 60 horses. With all the weight it never made much of a profound effect on the rate of acceleration. I was always urging the reluctant beast onwards but not really getting anywhere very fast.

Even fitting a Motad 4-1 didn't make any difference. The original 4-2 exhaust had somehow survived a decade's worth of abuse and neglect. The downpipes were completely rusted through and the silencers were more rust than chrome. What was left of the baffles rattled away as I rode along. It was a toss-up as to whether the end-pieces would fall out or the whole silencers drop off. With an MOT coming up I bought a used Motad and hammered it on.

The GT failed the MOT on worn steering head bearings and leaking fork seals. The tester had insisted on pulling up the gaiters. The pitted chrome didn't impress. I rode over to the other side of town, where an MOT certificate was granted. About 500 miles later some head shaking warned me that it was indeed time to change the steering head bearings. These turned out to be taper rollers. The top bearing was so solidly entrapped that it took three days worth of hammering to make it pop out.

Top speed was around 115mph. It could be pushed to a little more down a long hill but the secondary vibes threatened to dispossess the bike of all its cycle parts. A rather senseless cruising speed of 85 to 90mph was forced on the bike, as this was one of the vibration free zones. There wasn't really very much acceleration left in the bike after 90mph, even changing down a gear wasn't much help. Especially as it might throw the motor into a false neutral.

I'd thought that all the high speed thrashing would at least keep the battery fully charged up. But, no, after less than a 1000 miles in my hands, the starter proved reluctant to churn the motor over. A week later I was having trouble completing the 35 mile round trip to work and back. The GS series are to electrics what fifty fags a day are to lung cancer.

At this kind of age they have usually been much modified. Mine featured a huge black box of a regulator with mechanical points and a tiny rectifier, plus a confusing jumble of wires. It was impossible to understand how they were interacting with the alternator let alone test the system. An auto-electrician friend was let loose on the bike. He decided the only thing to do was fit car components and a new battery. The alternator was still sound (it must've been rewound). A couple of the handlebar switches were a bit dodgy so a newish handlebar cluster was robbed from a crashed GSXR1100. As my friend threw in his labour for free, the electrical resurrection was surprisingly cheap. And even reliable!

The electrical demise had caused some engine misfiring at low revs which hid the way the carbs had gone out of balance. The GT's not a highly tuned motor, so I was annoyed to find the carbs needed a vacuum gauge session every 750 to 1000 miles. To ignore this was to make the engine knock like the mains had gone and to ruin its frugality. Normally, I could expect 55mpg but if the carbs were neglected then 30 to 40mpg would result. It would've made sense to pay someone to do them just on the money saved on fuel, but I borrowed a set of vacuum gauges and did the job myself. It was a bit tiresome as a lot of fiddling around was involved to make all four show the same level. The carbs were undoubtedly a bit worn, so lower mileage bikes would have better economy and longer maintenance intervals.

Both the oil and filter were changed every 3000 miles. The sump plug's thread was quite marginal and I expected it to strip at any moment but it never did. I took the precaution of drilling the plug and wiring it into position, something that stopped me having to do it up with excessive force and removed the visions of ending up riding around with a sump devoid of any lubricant. In the end the gearbox went rather nasty.

As 57000 miles came up on the clock the gearbox went very clunky. A passable imitation of a BMW boxer, but it was actually quite useful as correct engagement of a gear had a different sound to a false neutral! The clutch became stiffer until I had to put in a new cable. The few times I'd tried a clutchless change the motor had felt like it was falling apart. Towards the end of the Suzuki's life fifth gear did a disappearing act on nights with a full moon.

At this kind of age I'd expected the twin discs to be troublesome and they didn't disappoint. Calipers needed attention every 5000 miles even during a long hot summer. They became so encrusted with dirt that the pistons would hardly move. Relying on engine braking and a rear brake is no way to lose speed on a 500lb mammoth. Pad life was around 10,000 miles on EBC's. Wet weather delay was unpredictable, sometimes negligible, others it would take what seemed hours before anything happened. It kept the heart pumping away healthily, anyway. Braking power in the dry was just about adequate but needed a hefty, four finger pull on the lever.

The front forks would react to that kind of stress by bottoming out and trying to twist out of the headstock. I never got around to fitting new fork seals or doing anything about the pitted chrome. The handling was never much to sing about but she never seemed too dangerous. I never went wild in the country, used the GT mostly on faster A-roads and motorways when I wasn't hurtling through town.

A lot of the feeling of relative security must've been down to the conservative steering geometry. Even on worn out tyres on greasy, wet city roads, there was never any of the wild slides that might've been expected. On worn Avons it'd flutter on whitelines and the back end would always weave a little above 90mph. I think you'd have to do something really stupid to make this Suzuki speed wobble.

By 75000 miles the engine was running a little rough, a definite drop off in power. I persisted for half a year, getting through 80,000 miles before the head gasket started spewing out oil and the camchain did a reasonable imitation of an automatic machine gun. By then the petrol tank felt so thin from internal corrosion it was about to collapse and the front forks were so loose they clanged over bumps. A massive excess of dosh or effort was going to be required but I couldn't just throw £500 away, which was what the old hulk had originally cost. I procured an old camchain and gasket from the local breakers. A tube of Hermatite completed the rebuild process.

I managed to bounce and rattle around for another 3000 miles before a nearly immaculate, low mileage GS850GT Suzuki turned up for £800. This is an even heavier, unwieldy lump but it goes like stink and in today's market was a brilliant bargain. The last GS650GT was made in '86, so there may be the odd nice one around but they were never made in any great quantity. The 850 seems the better buy, but I would not say no to a nice 650. Mine went for £300 as a spares or renovation project.

Keith Lime

****************************************************

Eventually a B reg GS650GT was found in a Welshpool dealers. Sorry to say, but as soon as it was seen it was as good as sold. With a £1200 price tag and 36000 miles on the clock, the non-negotiable price was kind of justified, with the seat recovered, a twelve month MOT and service, a new sidestand switch, a new choke cable and a new helmet.

The ritualistic first day was spent riding through Shropshire and Staffordshire, when, at a set of traffic lights in Stafford, it stalled and refused to respond to the starter button but bumped into life easily enough. At home the battery was flat. I was not impressed! The GS range has a well chronicled habit of burning out its electrics, a pity on an otherwise tough range of engines. Worse still, the most frequent cause of alternator burn outs is neglect of the oil level or changes (when the motor overheats), which also means the bike may not have been well looked after!

The battery was charged overnight and the bike ridden back to Welshpool, where a new set of windings from a GSX250 was fitted along with a camchain which had begun to rattle on the ride over. It was fitted free of charge but I had to pay for the camchain! This was okay as the bike had been sold without a warranty! Camchains normally last 40 to 50,000 miles so this was probably the first one, though there's no excuse for neglect as the tensioner's automatic and doesn't need any attention until it starts to rattle.

After that dubious start I expected the worst! All kinds of scenarios ran through my mind but after a successful couple of weeks the panic abated, leaving me to enjoy the charms of this middleweight four. At 500lbs and 64 horses it was never going to set the world alight, but the gearbox was slick and my throttle hand willing enough to see off all cars and most other motorcycles.

The Alpha exhaust looked the part and sounded great unless constant work was required when the exhaust note droned on and on, producing a headache. 4-1's are often dubious but the relatively mild state of tune meant that there weren't any carb glitches and the freer flowing engine may have contributed to the 45mpg economy. Low running costs were abetted by the shaft drive, chain driven GS Suzukis ruining their transmission in less than 5000 miles! The shaft drive must have done its job because it never needed any attention or intruded.

The engine bars became a useful set of forward footrests. There were times when I was thankful for its relatively mild nature and used the bars to augment the laid back nature of the beast. The riding position for myself at 6'1'' was a little low, the crashbars allowing me to stretch my legs, but comfortable for both the pillion and myself. The GT was one of those bikes that made you feel part of the plot and, these days, its classic, understated appearance is all the rage.

There were a couple of nice touches that helped on the longer runs. The fuel gauge was accurate and the gear indicator a useful gadget. Switches were the usual Suzuki stuff whilst the Cibie headlamp was excellent. A nice change to see where I was going during hard charging night rides. The forks had gaiters so I didn't have to worry about the seals blowing.

Brakes were spongy but as good as most GS Suzukis, though the back disc lacked feel. Goodridge hose would probably have helped, but it wasn't so bad that I felt like spending loads of dosh. Occasionally, the lack of feel meant the front discs would slam on, howling the tyre and frightening the crap out of both myself and any innocent civilians who were loitering in the immediate area. The directness of the shaft and the excess of engine braking meant it was often quite possible to lose loads of speed just by slamming the throttle shut. Not something that I recommend in corners, though, as the bike shakes about a little.

Power delivery was smooth and quite hard above 7000 revs. It would run along quite adequately at lower revs, although the conservative steering geometry meant it would break the clutch before doing a wheelie (clutch rattle at low revs is quite normal). Top speed was 120mph but a lack of plastic stops long periods of such excess. It would shoot up to the ton without much effort, would even cruise at that speed if there was a bit more protection from the elements. 70 to 80mph cruising was more sensible, if verging on the suicidal on the motorway. The tank range was 120 miles, disappointing for a bike of this nature (the way I ride, anyway).

In the 12 months together 10,000 miles were clocked up and only a few problems arose. The exhaust had to come off every 3000 miles to gain excess to the oil filter. This led to an exhaust bolt snapping in the head on number three cylinder, an all too common malaise on GS engines. Screws also snap off when the crankcase covers are removed and even the oil sump bolt can strip its thread. Don't get the wrong idea, though, all the major components are well built.

There are all kinds of repairs, from the highly technical (helicoils) to the clever (drill and tap in the remaining bolt to take a smaller screw), to bodging, as in this case. Use an excess of Gum-Gum and a single retaining bolt as a temporary repair. It worked so well that it became permanent. Subsequent filter changes were made easy by some custom work on the downpipes with a large hammer that allowed almost instant access (make sure the bike is cold unless you like burnt hands).

The other problem was more an embarrassment to me than a result of bad engineering. In the winter months it wouldn't start if left for more than three to four hours at night until about 11 o'clock in the morning. Every four hours I went outside, started it and ran it up for five minutes then went back to bed, much to the annoyance of the neighbours. Though it would start after eleven o'clock, no problem! This was sorted out after two long weeks by draining and balancing the carbs, the morning sun must have thawed the bike out!

Tyres lasted 9000 miles on the front and 5500 miles on the back, both Metzelers. The front kept losing pressure until the rim was cleaned up - a tube cured that niggle. The only non-consumable expense came after a slight altercation with an XR4i, resulting in a new set of bars, choke cable and lever (bought but never fitted, it was just as easy to pull the choke on at the carbs).

A clutch lever was fitted a week later, no great rush as the shaft made clutchless changes smooth and as long as stopping could be avoided, the bike could pull away from a walking pace in top if required. Starting off in third gear by just pushing the starter button while in gear didn't seem to harm it. A testament to the excess of torque from the DOHC four cylinder engine. There were slight patches of secondary vibes but they were never so heavy as to dictate the speeds at which the bike was ridden.

I once met the previous two owners. The last one sold the GS for a GPz turbo. Why he wanted a GS650 is still a mystery. The other arrived via the fields on something unrecognizable with a flask of mushroom soup (yes, that type). So it could obviously survive any kind of owner!

I also used the GS as a part time despatch bike, helping a mate out, as well as rallies, touring and escaping for the day. The most memorable journey was to the solicitors, wife as pillion, to start divorce proceedings - which sums up this bike really well. It hardly cost anything, did everything that was asked of it but didn't excel in any one department though all the memories I have are fond ones.

Anon


Friday 4 May 2012

Suzuki GSX400F


The Suzuki GSX400F is a neat package of reasonable power, moderate weight and restrained, even pretty, styling. Not too much of that was evident in the heap that sat in my garage. Rust, alloy rot and oil leaks obscured the flow of its line. A top end that actually clanked rather than rattled offered thought for the paranoid; Suzuki's earlier attempts at four valve heads were fraught with sinking valves, overheating and early demise.

I'd ridden it home sixty miles in that state, after handing over 150 notes. It'd cruise at 60 to 70mph without too much hassle, but by the time we rolled up at the house, the battery was so flat that when I left the bike ticking over it stalled dead. This era of Suzukis famous for self-destructive electrics. Especially on the GSX400F, the crankcase sump was always minimal, running low on oil getting the engine so hot that it'd overheat the alternator. Melted windings could then short out the rest of the electrical system.

I had expected the worst, reflected in the price I'd paid. I actually enjoy tearing a motorcycle down to its bearings. Enjoy the fight with seized in spindles and the hassles with recalcitrant screws. Man versus rotted Japanese alloy. It took about a month to sort out the GSX. New consumables, bearings and cables. Secondhand head, calipers and electrics. A lot of rubbing down and touching up of the tank and frame. The chrome front guard looked newish, certainly wasn't original as they rust from the underside until they fall off. The seat, wheels and engine finish still looked tatty.

The bike felt quite good on the road, even though I hadn't done anything to the suspension. The rear shocks were not original, were much tauter than the forks which bounced on their stops every time I hit the twin front discs. Partly, that was down to the discs being slightly warped, giving the brake a very grabby feel. I couldn't find any better discs in the breakers, so it seems a common problem.

The refurbished electrics didn't seem to be working. The battery drained off after about 40 miles of commuting. I could tolerate that for a while as it went back and forth to work without completely flattening the battery. I'd fitted a used alternator but this had only some of the coils generating electricity. I sent it off to be rewound and about a week later I was back on the road with a battery that held its charge.

I soon came to enjoy the Suzuki in the traffic, being narrow and light enough to make full use of its 45 horses. On new Avon tyres it had a nice, secure feel that allowed me to fling it around like a 250. My disregard for its age, revving the motor to 11,000 in second and third, had the engine churning out the vibration like a loosely secured air-conditioner. The tank blurred between my legs and my hands went dead after about five minutes of this abuse.

The bellow from the rotted exhaust meant I never had to worry about using the horn to make cagers aware of my careering path. I often ended up burning off a layer of front rubber when they made their move regardless of their knowledge of my presence. Perhaps that explained the way the calipers quickly started weeping brake fluid. The first I knew of this was the lever coming back to the bars, the bike charging forward rather than stopping.

The brand new Merc that the front wheel hit was heavily creased before it cracked up. I bounced off the seat, my groin whacking the bars which rudely, and incredibly painfully, twitched between my legs as the front wheel collapsed. Mercedes are tough cars, the wrecked door and wing had not gone in so far as to injure the driver. A grotesque city type, who shouted above my wailing, that he was a lawyer and was going to sue my butt off. Fortunately, the position of the car made it obvious that he had turned out of the traffic into my path and the police, for once, gave the cager a lecture on dangerous driving. I almost smiled through the tears.

The GS550 front end didn't go straight on but it was the kind of mechanical challenge that I revelled in. It only took a weekend to put the bike back on the road. That was when things started to go rapidly down hill. Rushing across London during the night, playing a fairly intense game of dodgems with the cars, the electrical system ceased to function. Suddenly finding myself with a dead engine and no lights in the midst of crazy psychopaths had the adrenalin going wild, as I paddled the Suzuki into the gutter.

The fuse box was charred beyond recognition. The regulator/rectifier unit (used, off a CX650) was not much better off and the area beneath the seat was splattered with battery acid. The seat subsequently fell apart. There was nothing for it but to push the bugger the four miles home. I had plenty of time to muse on the unfairness of life, the weight of the Suzuki and the poor design of the disc brakes that left the pads dragging.

What appeared to have happened was that the crash had jolted one of the alternator wires on to the top of the engine, where it had a chance to burn through and short out the whole electrical system. I ran the bike with just a battery and no charging system for a couple of months until I could locate the parts needed as cheaply as possible. As I had plenty of time, I bought a book on alternator rewinding and ended up doing that job myself at minimal cost.

To celebrate the complete electrical restoration, and the arrival of warm weather, I headed for the East Coast and the delights of rural England. By the time I came home, after about 450 miles of hard charging, the top end was rattling and some smoke was escaping from the exhaust on the overrun. When I kicked the silencer in annoyance, it creaked, cracked and ended hanging off the 4-1 downpipe rather lopsidedly....

It occurred to me, as I looked at the burnt out exhaust valves, that the straight through, rusted exhaust might have been responsible for the damage, causing the engine to run lean and overheat. Good cylinder heads for this model are extremely rare but I managed to locate some used valves that I ground into the passable valve seats. A cheap, rusted universal megaphone was added at the grand cost of £2.

Neither the straight through exhaust nor the megaphone had much effect on the power delivery, which was basically serene to 7500rpm and from then on harsh and horny. As I tended to use the top end of the rev range all the time I was quite content with 55mpg and negligible oil consumption between 1000 mile changes. That was about the only maintenance the Suzuki got, the carbs didn't need any attention and the valves only lost their clearances when something terminal happened inside the cylinder head. That was my theory, anyway.

Most of the mileage that followed was hardcore commuting, which the Suzuki handled with a natural ease. I tried to avoid overloading the electrical system by not using the lights or horn, but batteries still expired in less than six months and bulbs would blow. Must have been some voltage surges getting through. There were always minor problems, as on any hack, with rotting calipers, quick stretch chains, bits falling off, etc but it rarely failed to take me back and forth to work at high speed with a lot of fun thrown in for free.

After a year the clock had gone over 45000 miles. I thought I'd had quite good value out of it and it was time to move on to something in better condition that I could feel safe in using for long distance touring. In its prime, the GSX could cruise at 90mph in reasonable comfort for a couple of hours but my example was too full of rattles, knocks and burning electrics to trust for much more than 50 miles in a day. The suspension had gone off, as well, making what, new, had been a svelte handler become very vague in fast bends, with all kinds of shakes and wobbles threatening that any attempt at a high speed run would probably end with a multiple surgery session in the nearest hospital.

Appearance was so poor and engine so noisy that I only wanted £200. This resulted in a constantly ringing telephone. For some reason, no one believed my honesty in calling the bike a useful hack for town work but otherwise a complete dog. Many were the people who turned up who went away cursing the state of the bike. Not at any price was their reaction. Finally, a true road rat turned up, handed over a filthy pile of tenners with the injunction that I'd have to ride it back to his house, with him on the pillion, some 45 miles away.

There didn't seem any easy way of getting out of that. I knew the suspension wouldn't like our combined mass but didn't quite expect the motor to churn out such an excessive amount of vibration. I pushed on as hard as I dared, about 90 minutes later pulled up outside his house. Even the exhaust note was drowned out by the furiously knocking main bearings. I gave him back a hundred quid, figuring I was losing my sense of timing.

Harry Reynolds

****************************************************

Style is everything in Japan. It's that old thing about the guy with the smallest cock having the biggest car or the chap with the maximum flash motorcycle having the lowest self-esteem. As the Japanese are retro mad it didn't take much thought for Suzuki to re-invent the Katana, which was so innovatively shaped in its day that it could still pass as a thoroughly modern motorcycle had not its form been so well assimilated by the motorcycling masses. Japanese licensing laws and their small stature means the Kat is only available as a 250 or 400 rather than 1000 or 1100cc monsters.

The four cylinder engine, despite the fining, is derived from the watercooled Bandit motor, but slightly detuned from 60hp at 12000rpm to 53hp at 10,500rpm, although maximum torque is still developed at 9500rpm. The GSX400S is a much more compact machine than the old 1100, weighing only 400lbs. The tank seems narrower and slightly shorter than of old, although the seat is the same piece of hard sculptured abnormality that's as uncomfortable as it's pretty (the pillion perch is relatively plush). The overall riding position wasn't as comfortable as of old, marred by too low bars and footrests mounted a good four inches too far forward.....shades of seventies bikes, there. My wrists were angled so that both the throttle and clutch became heavy going after 15 minutes in town.

The six speed gearbox was one of the sweetest I've ever experienced. The motor didn't put out shovel loads of torque, but whirred away efficiently below 8000rpm in a clean running if rather antiseptic way. It was easy enough to change up and down the box without risking wrist strain on the clutch. The motor never really felt like it was making over 50 horses, was too civilised, and too lacking in any violent impulses, for that. Around 12000 revs tingling vibes began to set in, mostly in the pegs. Taking it to 13000 in third really blitzed the chassis, but power had long since peaked and it was really just thrashing the motor out of boredom, waiting to see what would break. Nothing did, of course; an exercise in futility.

As I said, this bike is about style; anyone looking for wild performance out on the edge would be better off with one of the Suzuki's harder, meaner cousins. That style over all else dumps modern ergonomics in favour of iron age pain; which is fine if you're Japanese, when pain thresholds are much higher than for effete Westerners (if you don't believe me, go to the hospital for a jab) and for this pampered boy more than 30 minutes on the Katana was akin to being tortured with sharp knifes.

The GSX had a slight top heaviness, nothing compared with the old 1100, but just enough to make me slightly wary of flinging the bike recklessly through chaotic traffic for the first couple of days. Riders short of leg will find themselves in panic attack country. Once I'd become reassured that it wasn't going to relentlessly flop right over, I speeded up my town riding to a tolerable level. The thin 18'' front tyre never felt too happy in combination with the fat 17'' rear, which made for a skittish feel over anything less than a perfectly smooth road surface. Road banding or lines gave the front end a queasy feel; the tyre never wholly convincing in its grips when a bit of rain splattered the surface.

Indeed, rain proved to be less than fun. Water was sprayed off the tiny screen straight into my neck, my hands were similarly doused and the engine would get a fit of the stutters when the rain fell really heavily. Water found its way into the groove between fairing and tank, running down to swamp the spark plug recesses. As a thoroughly modern motorcycle there was no way the plugs were accessible without tearing off the petrol tank and plastic. So fatal was the ingress of water that there were already rust spots under the one year old tank!

The frame followed the trend set by the rest of the bike. What you could see looked reasonably robust, an imitation, even an improvement, of the old 1100 Katana trellis. When the tank was removed, though, the bracing around the headstock looked minimal and the upper frame a touch scanty.

With the mismatched rubber it made for some interesting antics if the speedo was pushed beyond the ton, bringing in some weaves and wallowing that were all too redolent of the machines that these bikes are based upon. I didn't experience any speed wobbles even when I managed to get the reluctant machine to touch 115mph, but it was, to my mind, a close run thing when the road surface became a little bumpy.

The riding position left me perfectly placed to take a battering from any road bumps the suspension failed to absorb (and there seemed an awful lot of them), so trying to do a 100 miles in an hour not only left me battered and bruised but I could barely walk for about 30 minutes. Some motorcycles are so scintillating that such behaviour can be forgiven, but the biggest edge the Katana possesses is its lack of comfort.

On smooth, rapid roads it tracks well enough, can be twitched through the bends without too many frightening lurches and will even leap off the top of small hills without messing up its chassis. It's more like an eighties GSX550 than a nineties machine, with the same malign attributes lurking under the initial impression of good-heartedness. The 250 version even has the same paint job as the old GSX series, which looks very naff alongside the plain silver of the 400.

The brakes were a thoroughly modern set of discs, twins out front and a singular rear. They had both feel and power, even worked okay in the wet. The front brake was a bit vicious on the fork springs and the rear would occasionally lock up the back wheel without any warning. The only real complaint was that with just 6500 miles on the clock, the front pads were jangling around like loose change in a pocket; already worn down to the metal. The heavy madness of the traffic had meant the front brake was used until the discs glowed red in the dark.

The suspension was fine over minor bumps but the heavy stuff caused the Kat to jerk about like a Rap dancer. The remote reservoir twin shocks were mostly neat looking ornaments, when the bike was flung through bumpy bends, their moderate damping went AWOL and the back wheel felt like its bearings were cracking up. It was, ultimately, not as bad as it felt as the steering geometry kept the bike on its line; it was just a question of hanging on and waiting for the shudders to calm down. The limits of the experience became much less when riding with a pillion. Okay for moderate speeding but not much cop far out on the periphery of the handling.

After about two weeks of hustling I was used to the handling but becoming bored with the performance. That's the Japanese way with motorcycles, they're produced as throwaway consumables that after the newness wears off a little need to be replaced with the latest toy in town. Quite how that works out with the retro breed, which by their very nature aren't supposed to look like the latest toy in town, will bear some thought. Riders will probably become so pissed that they'll start buying modern motorcycles again.

I dare say a decent pair of shocks and a proper set of tyres would sort out most of the Suzuki's handling foibles, though parts of the frame would remain a bit suspect. Either changing the bars or pegs would drastically improve the riding position and long distance comfort. The engine is hardly hard charging and there's no easy way of getting more power out of it, though replacing the quiet exhaust might let loose a few more horses and even give the engine a bit of a power band. I guess it all depends on how enamoured you are with the styling. I'd go for one of old 1100 Kats, which for the same kind of money as a grey import GSX400S in the UK would provide lots more fun and games.

Mike Prescotte

****************************************************

The need for a new bike came to mind after thrashing an XT600E from Maidstone to Oxford in record time. 90mph most of the way, save for the chronic roadworks on the M25. The XT was brilliant for speeding through traffic but the upright riding position meant I was blown about halfway to death. I was skint when I went looking but turned up a nice low mileage import Z550Ltd which was worth about £400 less than the XT.

Three weeks later the dealer still hadn't registered the Kawasaki - as the XT was clocking up around 1500 miles a week I had to do something before its value dropped too low for me to do a straight swap. So, off to a bike shop in darkest Kent which was full of clean, shining used bikes. Being rather short of leg a lot of the bigger machinery was just too much to sling through traffic on city runs and the greed of the insurance companies put paid to anything bigger than a 600.

The only bike that fell into the value range I could manage at the time was a 1986 Suzuki GSX400F. After a decent test ride a deal was struck. The bike had a Krauser top box and pannier rack, the dealer explaining that the previous owner was a friend who was going to drop the panniers in during the week and I could collect them next weekend. Off I rode into the November night on my new work-tool, looking forward to a nice long distance blast up the motorway on Monday.

Picture the scene. Monday morning, cold air and a despatch rider, in numerous layers of clothing topped off with Rukka's, pushing the start button and hearing the starter catch, turn the engine and grind to a complete halt. Now picture the same courier ten minutes later, looking totally shagged out and muttering curses at the world.

The engine finally fired up after being jumped from a car battery and I set off for work. The first week went perfectly, all seemed well until it lost interest in starting again. Once warm, however, it was easy enough to bump. After discovering that the dealer's guarantee covered only labour, I bought and fitted a new battery myself.

Every cable on the bike decided to snap at the same time and the live supply wire to the ignition switch rotted, killing the bike altogether, suggesting it'd spent a long time under a sheet in someone's garden. The Krausers, by the way, were nowhere to be seen.

The choice of tyres fitted by the previous owner suggested a certain lack of concern for personal safety. The rear was an Avon R2 Roadrunner of indeterminate age and the front a King's tyre all the way from Taiwan. The name suggested to me that if Taiwan had a King then a group of anarchists had designed the tyre in the hope of shortening his life expectancy. Not so much of a problem, as I was able to alter my riding technique to suit.

Another feature of the bike didn't help, though, unless the roads were bone dry. The Suzuki was fitted with hydraulic anti-dive which when the front twin discs were applied closed a valve that then restricted the flow of damping oil through the left fork leg. In theory a great idea.....had not the previous owner filled the forks with something a bloody sight thicker than the recommended SAE 15 grade oil.

The front brake's master cylinder was so efficient that the lever only came back half an inch before going solid, hauling the bike up very, very quickly. The overall effect was that the front end lacked any feedback while the braking led to more than one trouser browning moment, not helped any by the dubious front rubber.
The problem disappeared when I stripped the forks, after draining off what looked more like sludge than oil, washed all the parts in paraffin, reassembled them with SAE15 and fitted a master cylinder off a Z400F which I just happened to be breaking at the time. Gone was the on/off action but the brake was still plenty powerful enough.

A few days went by during which all was well with the world. The GSX being quick enough for motorway work, yet narrow and light enough to throw around in Shit City traffic. Then disaster. On a late night run to Eastbourne, wait and return, the lights started playing up. Headlight flashing in time with the indicators, and the starter was useless. It would only start with a very long, fast push and would then die if the lights were turned on with the engine running below 7000 revs.

It did get me back to Maidstone and then home but it was a bloody struggle. Once there the Suzuki syndrome was diagnosed, the Z400's regulator pack was bodged on in place of the pitiful thing Suzuki specified. Next day, a new battery was fitted and I consoled myself with the thought that the alternator was still intact. I'm amazed that Suzuki can get away with fitting such electrics but it's not as bad as Honda's camchains or Yamaha's calipers.

Back to work until one day there's a clacking noise from the transmission under power. Oops! The rear sprocket was a circle with bumps where the teeth had been - and I've got a multi-drop to Basildon, Chelmsford and Colchester on board. Much clutch slipping later I finished the job and talked the boss into subbing me £60 for a heavy-duty chain and sprocket set.

A week later I fitted a new Roadrunner only to have the Motad Neta split. The local car repair shop welded the split and reinforced the pipe where it met the downpipes. Where the headers met the silencer it was pretty thin. All for a fiver. One of the header bolts sheared where it goes into the barrel and when I fitted a set of crash-bars the only way I removed the front engine mounting bolt was after emptying a can of WD40 and using excessive leverage.

A week later the battery boiled dry again despite the regulator checking out okay. I fitted a slightly taller battery out of a CX after modifying the bracket. New regulator and all the earth connections on the bike cleaned up. Still no Krausers despite several calls. Another snapped speedo drive cable later, the handling started to seriously deteriorate, the front end sliding away on corners.

The first time it happened I was on a roundabout just outside Maidstone heading for Uxbridge when the front end disappeared and both rider and bike went skating across the road horizontally. I got up, looked for the diesel on the road but couldn't find any and couldn't see anything obvious wrong with the tyre. After about the 30th slide I found, under close examination, that the front tyre had worn unevenly, putting only half the rubber on the road when I was banked over.

On went a Metzeler Laser, which turned the handling quick, precise and very confidence inspiring. Then, yes, there's more, the weather turned from cold winter to wet winter and spring - the shit really hit the fan! On any journey over 30 miles the engine would go on to two cylinders until the rain stopped and ten minutes later the engine returned to a four. Not too bad in showers but prolonged rain would be hell, running on two cylinders.

God knows what the two cylinders were wearing like with all that neat petrol washing off the oil on the walls. The last owner had stuck silicone gasket around the coils where the HT leads exited so I added some around the plug caps for good luck. It didn't help and within days the profits of the company making WD40 trebled.

One night, on the way home on the unlit M20, the bike died and the WD ran out. I took the tank off on the hard shoulder and dried the coils with a bit of rag from the tool kit. Cranking the engine over revealed an exciting light show. Sparks were flowing all over the coils and leads, jumping to the frame. Out came the AA card, we completed the trip in a big warm yellow van.

A used set of CBR600 coils match the GSX's engine and even allow new HT leads to be fitted. The first rain and it was back to two cylinders at Leamington Spa then no cylinders at Reading. WD40 didn't help. AA again then a set of Halford's silicone plug leads with moulded on plug caps. Then on the way back from Banbury, one day, it died again. AA yet again, but on the way home I decided I couldn't go on like this - spending more time on the hard shoulder than working. I quit before I was sacked. The next step was to waterproof every connector on the bike. Even this didn't cure it, the final straw when one coil short-circuited and took out the ignition unit.

The GSX has a wonderful engine that required nothing more than 1500 mile oil changes and valve checks. It's pretty quick but the electrics are shit. Finish goes off in winter, handling's average, comfort's good if you're short. I'm thinking of breaking the bike as there's no easy way to fix it.

JPB

****************************************************

There are a lot of rumours and stories about the engine in the GSX400F. Suzuki, famed for its 550 to 1000cc GS range, had failed to imbue their reputation for reliability into their smallest four. Which was rather odd, though its 16 valve head might've been viewed as suspicious in 1981. But it wasn't the top end that caused the hassles but the crankshaft. This from a sump that lacked sufficient capacity - might the heat dissipation of the 16 valve head have destroyed the oil with unexpected speed? Anyway, Suzuki added a bigger sump pan and then all was well. Or was it?

I was pondering this when looking at a dealer housed example. 1983, 29000 miles, nice paint and slightly dodgy chrome and alloy. I explained my doubts to the salesman who quickly hid an annoyed scowl (probably cursing the information in the UMG, which I was clutching prominently in one hand) in favour of some reassuring patter. It basically boiled down to a three month guarantee or an extra £100 for a year's warranty. Of course, if I wanted to pay cash and take my chances by buying sold as seen, a large discount was possible.

He started up the engine and it sounded good. I sat on the bike and it felt, er, good. The salesman smiled encouragingly, as if at a child trying to walk for the first time. A quarter hour's blast later, I felt good about the way the motor would scream into the red and how easy the 400lb machine was to chuck through the curves. I definitely wanted the bike but I pretended to be indifferent. I started to walk away, moaning that I couldn't afford that kind of money. The end result was a price of £775 instead of the quoted £1250 (this in 1992); sold as seen. Dealer margins are often ridiculous.

There followed a bit of a learning process. I learnt that the engine could be thrashed into the red in most gears. 110mph! I learnt that I shouldn't go into corners on the brakes. The suspension just couldn't take it, the OE rear shocks being noteworthy for their weakness. I also learnt that the twin front discs could howl the tyre and put the forks down on their stops...and if I tried this in the wet I fell off.

Momentarily, after the violence and viciousness of the skid, I was relieved to be able to pick myself up and find that I was still in one piece. My first clue to the extent of the damage was the large pool of oil under the bike. At first I thought it'd merely ripped off the alternator, an infamously poor piece of equipment. The damage ran a lot deeper than that, to, I later found, a bent crankshaft. I learnt from this that the definition of a fool is someone who rides a GSX400F without engine bars.

To make the embarrassment all the greater, the salesman turned up in an ultra-flash Range Rover and chuckled at my predicament before driving off. Bastard! I pushed the bike the half mile home. A week later some so-called friend tried to sell me a GN400 motor that he reckoned would fit straight in. To avoid this catastrophic event I quickly found a crashed bike with an intact, running engine for £400. The forks, tank, wheels and exhaust were ruined but there was lots of stuff that could be salvaged, including a complete electrical system. The engine went in without too much pain, a couple of mates helping with the lifting.

The new mill didn't have the power of the old one, perhaps because the clock read 43000 miles. More than 95mph equated to an awful lot of secondary vibes. A full service was obviously needed. Both the valves and carbs were miles out. That done, performance and smoothness were improved, yet not equal to the original engine.

Incidentally, I decided that the slide was partially down to the old Japlop tyres having gone as hard as plastic, not that they were endowed with excessive grip from new. A new set of Metz's were fitted before the next downpour. The bike didn't like rain. This time I didn't fall off. The engine went down to two or three cylinders. The power suddenly exploding, making the back tyre waggle all over the shop. I was frightened to the point where I was thinking of getting off and pushing the bike home.

A couple of weeks later starting became very erratic. The spark was a weak yellow at the plugs; a used set of coils revived the ignition. Happily, the cutting out in the wet was also eradicated. I used coils off a GSX750 but had no problems with them. There are dire warnings about mixing and matching electrical components but stock stuff tends to be so weak that I always work on the basis that it can't get any worse.

By then I wasn't too impressed by the GSX - too much hassle for too few kicks. For the next three months and 4000 miles, though, it ran really well. Not a moment's trouble. I did find that the front light was a bit lacking in intensity for night riding and that the seat was too hard for more than half an hour's commuting. Handling was fine, acceleration adequate, running costs low and the amount of effort needed to ride it was minimal. I was soon singing its praises to my mates.

Then all the consumables ran out at the same time. Tyres, chain, pads and exhaust (they rust so quickly they have to be considered as a consumable). The total cost was ridiculous so it was around the breakers, picking up bits here and there. One thing, don't bother trying to fit modern tyres - impossible. Pay a fiver to the experts and save yourself a lot of blood, sweat and tears.

A summer's blitz up one side and down the other of the UK went without any serious incidents, although one of my friends fell off his GS550 and another blew up his Z650. In this company the GSX wasn't really out of its depth. They were a bit faster on motorways but tended not to trash their engines into the red, unlike myself. The GSX could be slung around with much greater ease, causing the bigger fours to try to run off the road when they tried to emulate my line. Mainly, because they were close to a 100lbs heavier.

By the time we got home the cosmetics had deteriorated - I blame all that bloody Scottish rain. Wheels, front guard, exhaust and engine alloy were all far gone. Much effort was expended cleaning them up. I shouldn't have bothered, after the first storm they were just as bad as before. Bloody old Jap's are all the same as regards crap finish. I thought it was time to sell whilst I still had something left to sell.

A few adverts were placed but only a few jokers phoning up with silly offers of around £500. For that kind of money all I could buy in good nick was an MZ. No thanks. Autumn, winter and spring. The bike running as well as ever but the cosmetics deteriorating fast. Rat bike status was soon attained. I dressed in gunge style and wore shades as a disguise.

As soon as the sun started to shine brightly the bottom end began to knock. If ever a motorcycle came close to rap this was it. Its tune was one of imminent demise and I began to wish I'd taken those £500 offers seriously. I should've taken it right down and rebuilt the whole thing from the ground up. It wasn't the kind of machine to inspire that sort of affection. Instead, I carried on riding, using a mild hand on the throttle. The bike lasted for 900 miles before it seized up solid.

Seized up just as I was scurrying across a major junction. You wouldn't believe the ensuing chaos. Three cars ended up embedded in each other and the cagers went into screaming fits. I was sorely tempted to do a runner, just leave the old heap there as a monument to crap Japanese engineering and my own neglect. In the end, I waited for the cops and usual verbal battering.

In conclusion, the GSX400F's a pretty good bike to ride but it's hard to find one in nice mechanical condition. Even one that's shined up may quickly turn into a rust bucket; even one that seems to run fine may soon end up going knock-knock. On examination, half the sixteen valves were in a sad state, all four pistons and bores were wrecked and the crankshaft was in a bad way. All was not lost, I cleaned up the chassis and fitted the GN400 engine (no-one else would buy it, so only £75). Better than an MZ!

Dave Lynch

****************************************************

My GS550 was stolen by some rotter who should be boiled in oil, and I had to find a replacement quick. The local paper fell through the door just as I was getting desperate. A GSX400F for £600. Had a quick glance at the Used Guide - not too encouraging, probably up for sale because the crank was on the way out. Still, I had nothing to lose except my time, of which I had plenty to spare.

Turned out to look not half bad. Bugger me, if the little four didn't shoot up the road faster than the old GS550. Yes, it had the bigger sump fitted and, no, the owner had never had any mechanical problems in two years and 9000 miles. The clock read 33000 miles. The low price was down to the need for new consumables and an imminent MOT. No offers.

I paid a deposit, sorted the insurance and rushed back there the next day. Only to be informed that I was lucky I'd turned up early as someone else had offered £850 and was threatening to come back with the money that afternoon. I almost asked for his phone number, so I could sell on at a profit.

The MOT proved a big hurdle, even after fitting new consumables, as the fork seals, swinging arm bearings and exhaust were all too shot to pass. The swinging arm spindle ended up bent after I'd removed it. No grease, corroded in. It was then that I found chassis bits for GSX400F's are rare in breakers. A new spindle was unthinkable. I finally found a breaker with a box of old spindles with one that was a little longer but the same diameter, for a fiver. The exhaust was welded and a used front end fitted after I found a couple of tiny cracks in the front hub! MOT granted.

The electrics were completely nonstandard and the wiring bodged, but it all seemed to work okay so I wasn't going to rip it apart and start again. This didn't stop me getting annoyed with the front headlamp, only useful for moped speeds. I thought I'd fit a seven inch shell and reflector I had in the garage, a nice 80 watt job. None of the connectors matched and the new shell didn't really have room for all of the old wiring but I managed to slap it all together.

Two problems resulted. Firstly, some of the connectors kept popping out, either fusing the whole system or causing various things not to work. Sorted with the soldering gun and roll of insulation tape. Secondly, the power of the headlamp overtaxed the generator output. The battery slowly ran down during night riding until the lamp flickered and the engine stuttered. I had to change the reflector for a less powerful one, still an improvement on the stocker but dangerous above 30mph on unlit country roads.

Compared to the 550, the smaller four was surprisingly snappy. Thanks to its much lower mass (around 400lbs), it accelerated vehemently and could be thrown around town traffic like a 250. My commuting times, over a ten mile run, improved by about five minutes. Fuel was better at 65mpg compared to 55mpg.

My only worry, keeping an eye on the oil level which could disappear with worrying rapidity. A daily top up needed! I talked to another GSX400F owner who reckoned the heavy oil consumption was perfectly normal and that it was best to change it every 500-600 miles. He used a very expensive synthetic lube, but in the end I decided that it wasn't worth it - I topped it up with recycled 20/50 from the local auto-shop and reckoned every other week it had been completely replenished. I did the oil and filter every 3000 miles.

I took one look at the sixteen valves, decided it was all too complex for me. Leave well alone as long as it was running okay. The same went for the carbs. The ignition was electronic and the camchain tensioner automatic.
By far my biggest maintenance chores were the chain and front discs (not stock GSX400F's). The latter had a seizure every time wet weather was encountered. I sprayed the calipers with WD40 (probably not recommended but it worked!) which reduced strip-downs to about once a month...at least the calipers came apart easily.

As to the chain, it was a combination of a tiny engine sprocket and a swinging arm mount placed without much thought for the chain's movement. Or maybe it was just the ancient bit of chain and shagged sprockets. Or the way every time I did up the wheel spindle the back wheel moved out of line! Or a combination of all these.

Chain maintenance was a daily affair, and every month I had to take a link out (about 1000 miles per month). Whatever chain spray I used the result was identical, a back end (and if present, pillion) covered in lube and a rusty old chain! After about four months I did actually fit a new chain but it started going the same way within weeks.

It was just one of those things you learn to live with. To its credit, the relatively mild and smooth flow of power meant the chain never actually snapped. With old bikes like this you have to grab the good points with both hands! Although there were some undeniable hassles in riding the bike all year round, it was never less than fun from the saddle.

More than anything else, the bike fitted my small frame perfectly and the seat was exemplary in the support and comfort it offered as my body was perched nicely by the moderate riding position. I could happily sit on the bike all day long at 90mph. A speed at which the mill became miraculously smooth and could scoot along without any effort on the throttle or gearbox.

Whilst that made the bike capable on the motorway, there wasn't much more easy power in hand, needed some fast footwork on the gearbox and throttle to get her past the ton. Ridden thus, 120mph wasn't beyond the realms of possibility, though usually it ran out of puff at 110mph. However, once above 90mph fuel dived to a traumatic 35mpg (from 50mpg at 90mph) and oil consumption was at mythical levels. Short bursts of speed only, then!

Much to my delight, and not a little amazement given the reputation of this engine, the bike ran for 14 months and nearly 15000 miles before anything serious went wrong. It would doubtless have done more if I'd attended to the top end. Coming back from a nice weekend at the BMF rally, after really caning the bike to see off a couple of middleweights, loads of grey smoke started pouring out of the exhaust. I pulled over, some nasty tapping coming from the cylinder head. I thought, sod it, ride home, see if it will get me there.

Twenty miles later, as I proudly pulled up at my house, I looked down to see that the engine had blown all its gaskets - smoke and oil pouring out of it. I'd wondered why top speed was down to 45mph - it'd only been running on two cylinders. All the heat coming off the alloy was like a blast-furnace going out of control. I wondered if the tapping or knocking noises were the louder!

The next morning I checked it over. All the oil was gone and the engine actually looked warped! Out of interest I took it apart. Maybe, just maybe, most of the gearbox was okay but the rest of it wouldn't even be accepted by a scrappy. I hadn't destroyed my engine so I could write an interesting story for the UMG, it was just that I'd let the bike fall into total neglect and couldn't be bothered any more. Despite its excellent performance a shadow always hung over the bike; its reputation overwhelming the reality of its riding.

I reckon I'd even had pretty good value out of it. Also, my insurance had finally coughed up a grand for the GS550, after months of argument, and I'd bought a much modded GS750. According to the owner, this just needed a little finishing, but it took me a good two months to get all the missing bits together. Much lighter than stock, with later suspension and a mildly tuned motor, this turned out to be the business, coming on stream just after the 400 went down. Good timing for once.

The GSX spent about four months in the garage until I talked a neighbour into giving me £250 for it. He then spent a month combining three broken engines to make one good one. Total cost £400, so not bad value. Only thing was, all the different parts, which had worn at different rates, didn't fit at all well together. A mere 95mph top speed, loads of secondary vibes plus wicked oil and fuel consumption. None of that stopped him riding around for five months and then selling on at £650!

It's this kind of madness you have to look out for if you're in the market for a 400. They ain't like other Suzuki fours, they have usually been rebuilt a couple of times and just don't have the basic toughness of the larger fours. Good ones do run rather well, as good as the 550 - better, if you use them mostly in town. Given this, they are worth buying for £400 to £750 but any more than that's asking to be ripped off. I even saw one in a dealers for £150O. That's just silly.

Mark Jones