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English Pages 248 Year 2007
Classic MOTORCYCLE
GUIDE
BUSINESS/SCIENCEITECHNOLOGY DIVISION CHICAGO PUBLIC LIBRARY 400 SOUTH STATE STREET CHICAGO, IL 60605
Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2022 with funding from Kahle/Austin Foundation
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Japanese Classic
© Rod Ker 2007
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission in writing from Haynes Publishing. First published in February 2007
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data: A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN 978 1 84425 335 7 Library of Congress catalog card no. 2006924145 Published by Haynes Publishing, Sparkford, Nr Yeovil, Somerset BA22 7JJ, UK Tel: 01963 442030 Fax: 01963 440001 Int. tel: +44 1963 442030 Int. fax: +44 1963 440001 E-mail: [email protected]
Website: www.haynes.co.uk
Haynes North America Inc. 861 Lawrence Drive, Newbury Park,
California 91320, USA
Printed and bound in Great Britain by J. H. Haynes & Co. Ltd, Sparkford
Design: Ingrid Kendall
All photographs supplied by the Haynes archive apart from the following: Roland Brown: page 216; EMAP: pages 24, 31, 33, 36 top, 39 top, 41, 46, 47, 51, 94, 219; Patrick Gosling/EMAP: page 23; Honda: pages 9, 11, 12, 13, 25, 26, 29, 35, 225, Kawasaki: page 97; Rod Ker: pages 18, 28, 34, 36 bottom, 37, 38, 39 bottom, 40, 43,
44, 45, 58, 64, 70, 83, 87, 88, 91, 97, 117, 119, 120, 122-123, 124-125, 128, 142-143, 145 top, 147, 149, 153 top, 158, 161, 167 bottom, 179 left, 181 left, 183, 207 bottom, 209, 210, 212, 213, 214, 222, 225, 226, 227, 229, 232-233; RWHS: page 49 top; Suzuki:
pages 15 top, 229 bottom; www.suzukicycles.org: pages 15 bottom, 16, 17; Yamaha: pages 19, 20, 22, 49 bottom, 50, 187 left, 190, 192, 198, 199, 217, 221, 231
Classic MOTORCYCLE
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GUIDE
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Contents Introduction
6
Acknowledgements
y
Chapter 1
Beginnings
8
Chapter 2
Going global
24
Chapter 3.
Some pioneers
32
Chapter 4
Honda
52
Chapter5
Kawasaki
De
Chapter'G
‘suzuki
130
Chapter 7
Yamaha
162
Chapter 8
Sports mopeds
202
Chapter9
1984: the new generation
208
Chapter 10
Future classics
224
Index
234
Classic Japanese Motorcycle Guide
Introduction Hopefully, the title makes it clear what this book is all about, making a long introduction unnecessary. Yes, the Classic Japanese Motorcycle Guide is a guide to Japanese Classic Motorcycles! The only room for doubt, perhaps, is the meaning of ‘classic’. Strict dictionary definitions tend not to be much help here because, as
applied to vehicles, the word gradually assumed a new identity in the 1980s. Once upon a time, a classic would be a machine of some special merit and/or rarity. More recently, however, the accepted translation has become ‘over about fifteen years old’, although this general rule can often be ignored. Some motorcycles were féted as classics when they were still in production. Honda’s CB400 Four and Kawasaki’s Z1 are examples that come to mind. Then there are those that struggle to earn classic status even when they’re relatively ancient. In Britain, a land once infested by quarter-litre bikes ridden by provisional licence holders, Honda’s CB250N SuperDream comes into this category. So many were sold that familiarity bred deep-seated contempt. Eventually, however, the time will come when the model is sufficiently rare for nostalgia to take hold, and as if by magic the
SuperDream will transmogrify into a valuable classic. Be warned: it might already be true by the time you read this! All those who found that decrepit Honda twins were only worth their weight in scrap a few short years ago will then be kicking themselves, but that’s how it always is with old vehicles. Exactly the same thing happened with unloved British motorcycles a decade or two earlier. Note that this is not intended to be a workshop manual, so this is definitely not the place to discover fascinating facts like the pilot jet size for a late-1970s Suzuki GS750. And you'll appreciate why if I reveal that the answer is 22.5, 27.5 or 15, depending on engine number and year. To pluck another example from the classic ether, the iconic four-pipe Honda CB750 was on sale from 1969 until 1976. To the motorcyclist in the street it looked very similar every year, but men with microfiches knew that during the production period virtually every single bit of the engine had been altered to some extent. Once you realise that even the bikes that look the same often aren’t, consider the sheer number of different models churned out by Japanese manufacturers. While many can be conveniently divided and sub-divided into families, literally thousands of models are involved, so including even basic specifications would soon fill 250 pages and result in a very dull read. Additional difficulty arises with model variations between countries. In some cases, almost everywhere received the same motorcycle with the same name at the same time. But not often. British,
American,
Japanese, European and Australian
tastes, laws, roads and climates vary, so Suzondahaki obligingly catered for them all by producing market-specific bikes. You might find the difference amounts to no more than a few stripes and a headlight dipping in the wrong direction. At the other end of the scale of frustration, there could be a major engine or transmission anomaly. For
Introduction and acknowledgements
practical purposes, that might not concern some owners until they need spare parts, but it’s a potential nightmare for those with a fetish for originality, For all these reasons, the text doesn’t provide in-depth ‘nuts and bolts’ technical information, although detail is included where it’s considered relevant in the author’s bigoted opinion. After some deliberation, it was decided not to include a ‘What To Look For’
chapter. A staple feature of most magazines until about 1990, when it was realised that the majority of readers were too scared, busy or lazy to attempt DIY engine work, most of the advice proffered when the bikes were new tends to be redundant now. By all means check for oil leaks, play in the swinging arm and wheel bearings, pitted fork stanchions, electrical gremlins and so on, but treat each prospective purchase individually. Endemic faults that may have caused exasperation and floods of warranty claims in 1975 tend to pale into insignificance compared to the effects of old age. Why worry about an alleged weak camchain tensioner or suspect generator if you are unable to remove the engine because corrosion has welded the mounting bolts to the frame and cylinder barrels to the crankcases? Many otherwise fixable motorcycles have been reduced to scrap by this sort of silly situation. It’s interesting that the problems encountered with old Japanese motorcycles tend to be different from those afflicting old British motorcycles, which were designed to break down and be taken apart at regular intervals, a process facilitated by external lubrication. Most Suzondahakis stubbornly refuse to leak oil, and ironically this is exactly why they can be so difficult to work on now!
Acknowledgements I'd particularly like to thank Mr Honda, Mr Suzuki, Mr Yamaha and Mr Kawasaki for making this book possible. More recently, Will and Tom Swinnerton and the staff of RWHS Classics, past and present, have been very helpful. Thanks to them, I have been able to refresh my memories of so many of the motorcycles that were new when I began riding in the 1970s and are now old. Frank Westworth, author of the Haynes British Classic Motorcycle Guide, also deserves some of the blame/credit for this companion volume, having been at least partly responsible for my early forays into journalism. Thanks also to Jarmo Haapamaki, the man behind the incredibly comprehensive www.suzukicycles.org website, Mark Hughes and Derek Smith at Haynes, Jacqui Harris at EMAP. the Big Four’s press offices, all those who contributed to the thousands of
motorcycle magazines I read instead of doing something useful, and anyone else who provided information or inspiration, unwittingly or otherwise. This book is dedicated to my mother and late father, who were horrified when I
bought my first motorcycle at the age of fourteen, and warned me that no good would come of it. They were right! Rod Ker January 2007
Classic Japanese Motorcycle Guide
Chapter1
Beginnings Unlikely as it may seem, the mighty Japanese motorcycle industry sprang from a small wooden shack erected on a Hamamatsu bombsite in September 1946. This glorified shed contained Soichiro Honda and a dozen workers, some machine tools, but not much else apart from inspiration and
the will to succeed. There had been Oriental motorcycles before that, of course, the earliest credited to Miyato in the first decade of the century. By the 1930s hundreds of different marques were available, but in view of what happened later it was somewhat ironic that American Harley-Davidsons were much prized in Japan. Somewhat fortunate, too, because in the wake of the 1929 Wall Street Crash and the revolutionary success of Ford’s Model T, which gave four-wheeled space and security for a two-wheeled price, Harley’s home sales collapsed. While the big V-twins were held in high esteem in the Far East, unfavourable currency exchange rates made them an expensive luxury. So, rather than ship bikes across the Pacific, H-D tooled up a new factory at Shinagawa, near Tokyo, which proceeded to churn out ‘Flatheads’ (a nickname given to the sidevalve model) that could be sold for a more affordable price. Although control was later ceded to Sankyo, replicas continued to be built under the Rikuo name, particularly for military use, and the Japanese Imperial Army became an important Customer. But by the time the dust had settled on World War Two, Japan’s industry and infrastructure were in ruins. Effectively, everything had to start again, which brings us back to Mr Honda and his shed; a new beginning. Born in 1906, young Soichiro showed an early flair for engineering. Practical applications interested him more than theory, so he left school aged 15 to be an apprentice mechanic with a car repair business called Art Shokai, where he immediately impressed his employer, both with his intuitive understanding of things mechanical and his organisational ability. In 1928, Honda was put in charge of his own branch of the company in Hamamatsu and became involved with car racing. Soichiro’s driving ability evidently matched his engineering skill, but a promising track career ended after a serious. accident in 1936. Despite being badly hurt, he was apparently keen to carry on, but other members of the family were rather less enthusiastic. So Honda decided to try something completely different, setting up an offshoot of Art Shokai to design and manufacture piston rings. After a shaky start, during which he finally realised that a knowledge of metallurgy and engineering theory was useful, the Tokai Seiki Heavy Industry Co. prospered. During wartime the company expanded and diversified into the manufacture of aircraft parts, propellers a speciality.
Beginnings
Unfortunately, bombs blitzed the factory in 1944. Still more unfortunately, an earthquake hit the area the following year, reducing the remains to rubble, but by this time Honda had been supplanted as manager. Toyota had earlier taken a 40 per cent stake in the company by order of the Ministry of Munitions, and in 1945 the founder sold his remaining interest. While pondering his peacetime future and — uncharacteristically — doing nothing in particular, a period he later referred to as his ‘human holiday’, Soichiro visited a friend, who happened to have acquired a small army-surplus two-stroke engine intended to power a generator. Perhaps this could be put to another use, possibly attached to a bicycle in such a way that pedalling wasn’t compulsory? It sounded like the perfect project for the newly-formed Honda Technical Research Institute, the somewhat grand name above the entrance of the 18 x 12ft shack on that bombsite in Hamamatsu City. Working day and night, the design was soon finalised. Early prototypes with friction drive to the front wheel were abandoned in favour of belt drive and a central engine, so in many ways the earliest Honda was like the pioneering motor-bicycles of the late 19th Century, when internal combustion first supplanted twirling legs. Only a month later, having been test ridden by Mrs Honda and pronounced satisfactory, if a little messy and smelly, a batch of mopeds went on sale. 500 of the little army-surplus engines were unearthed. Made by Mikuni (of carburettor fame), these were 50cc two-strokes with a potential output of about one horsepower. In practice, the figure was probably rather lower, because petrol was in such short supply that Honda was obliged to find an alternative fuel, a low-octane turpentine concoction made from pine tree roots.
Primitive is the only way to describe these early machines, which belched fumes and had to be pedalled furiously to fire them into life. Still, walking was even harder work, so there were plenty of takers. It would be wrong to think that people bought Variously called Model A or A Type, this was what the first proper Honda looked like.
Classic Japanese Motorcycle Guide
this moped simply because nothing else was available, however: showing an early commitment to quality control, Honda stripped and rebuilt each engine before installation, then took the finished article for a shakedown run. Unemployment was rife in Japan in the post-war period, which no doubt partly explains why a young graduate engineer called Kiyoshi Kawashima joined the expanding Technical Institute in 1947, on the understanding that he would be paid far less than he was worth! A key figure in company history, who eventually became Vice President, Kawashima was initially put in charge of stripping and rebuilding engines, then testing the finished result. As Honda’s name was already respected, clinching a sale afterwards was the easy part of the process. Customers with bicycles ready to convert into ‘pon-pons’, or ‘mopets’, as these little runabouts were called in Japan, were already waiting. When the supply of recommissioned generator engines ran out, a replacement
was urgently required. True to form, Honda proposed an innovative two-stroke with a tall, stepped piston. Nicknamed ‘the Chimney’ because ofits oddly shaped cylinder, this design turned out to be a bit too advanced for the manufacturing facilities available. A simpler 50cc engine was therefore put into production — again a two-stroke, but with the refinement of rotary valve induction, and featuring a clever mechanism for engaging its belt drive transmission. Admittedly, the A Type, the first machine officially branded as a Honda, didn’t look particularly sophisticated, but the President’s special touch could be seen in its construction and manufacture, which involved die castings and a production-line system. In fact, sand casting would have been more suited to the quantities involved, but die-casting resulted in a better-finished, more consistent product. Similarly, a less structured mode of assembly might have been just as efficient at that time, but a production line would be essential in the future, when Honda’s dream to become a major motorcycle manufacturer came true. Some idea of his ambition can be gathered when you consider that die-casting probably makes economic sense only when tens of thousands of a particular part will be needed. Logically enough, the A Type was followed by the B Type. Less logically, this was a motorised tricycle with a tendency to be unstable. Honda hurriedly changed tack again and came up with the C Type, essentially consisting of an expanded version of the A’s engine fitted in a stronger frame, with the refinement of front suspension. On September 24th, 1948, the Honda Technical Research Institute became the Honda Motor Co. Ltd. Not that any of the 34 employees really noticed at the time, it seems. As usual, they were all far too busy working. Soichiro could be a demanding boss, as anyone who slacked would find out, sooner rather than later. Shouting at the workers for their own good was a particular habit of the ‘Old Man’, as Honda was referred to by insiders, even when he wasn’t very old! The C’s frame was made by an outside contractor, the firm being at that stage essentially a manufacturer of bolt-on engines, but the following D Type, aka Dream, was a complete motorcycle. The whole thing was put together by the same concern, which was a first in post-war Japan. Again, its engine was a two-stroke, derived from
the original 50, but enlarged to 98cc and good for about three horsepower. A two10
Beginnings
speed gearbox operated by a rocker pedal was built in, while the quaint belt drive had finally been ousted by a chain. The real novelty was the frame, a pressed steel affair incorporating the fuel tank, all painted a luscious red, unlike most bikes of the era, which were ‘any colour you wanted so long as it was black’. (Incidentally, although these words are popularly attributed to Henry Ford, referring to the Model T, his cars were actually available in various colours. So as he also may have said: history is bunk!) The 1949 launch of the Dream coincided with the arrival of another key figure in corporate history. Honda may have been a dab hand at engineering and design, but he was less adept at marketing and dealing with money. Enter Takeo Fujisawa, who masterminded the sales operation, setting a somewhat ruthless tone by insisting
that his blossoming dealer network should sell only complete motorcycles, not Honda engines for insertion into other manufacturers’ frames. Hardly a popular move at the time.
Above: The original Dream, with pressed-steel frame. Still a two-stroke.
Right: Soichiro Honda and Takeo Fujisawa had good reason to be pleased with themselves.
11
Classic Japanese Motorcycle Guide
Well-made and functional, if not exactly avant-garde (the general styling and pressed steel frame resembled that of 1930s Star BMWs), the Dream perhaps failed to live up to its name. After a promising start, sales were slower than hoped. The reasons included dislike of the two-speed transmission and its semi-automatic, foot-operated clutch, close-fitting mudguards that clogged with mud (many Japanese roads were unsurfaced at the time), a relatively high price and a piercing exhaust note. Market research may not have existed in 1949, but customers preferred the deeper tone of a four-stroke, Fujisawa concluded. Honda and Kawashima duly set to work on the company’s first four-stroke, the result being a 146cc ohv single, a design distinguished technically by the use of double inlet valves. (Many years later, a similar three-valve-per-cylinder layout emerged in the Civic car and, in 1977, the CB250/400T Dream twins.) The new engine, credited with a healthy 5.5bhp at 5,000rpm, went into a chassis similar to the D’s, subsequently with plunger rear suspension to complement the front telescopic forks. The E Type was an immediate success. Aided by Fujisawa’s efforts to expand the dealer network, sales soon exceeded the yearly output for the entire Japanese industry of only a few years previously. This was an outstanding achievement, but the fact remained that the bike was still unaffordable for the majority, who relied on pedal cycles for everyday transport. Honda responded by returning to the clip-on engine idea and launching the F Type Cub, a flyweight two-stroke intended to mobilise the masses. Brilliantly marketed by a campaign that involved directly mailing Japan’s 50,000 bicycle dealers and offering customers a special hire purchase deal, this model hit its target precisely. Production levels quickly exceeded those of the E by about 50 per cent, earning Honda a Medal of Honour, awarded by the Emperor himself. The sun was rising. The Cub returned to Honda’s clip-on engine roots, but in a more sophisticated package.
Beginnings
Honda soon outgrew its wooden shack.
But then clouds appeared on the horizon, for a variety of reasons. Thinking far ahead as usual, Honda decided he needed the latest machine tools, as used in Europe and America (again ironically, in view of what happened later). Without thinking much about the cost, he bought everything needed to increase production still further, to cope with anticipated demand for models still in the planning stage. Alas, this move coincided with the end of the Korean War, signalling an exodus of affluent Americans and a general downturn in the Japanese economy. The Dream continued in production, to be joined by the new J Type Benly (from the Japanese, ‘Benri’, meaning ‘convenience’), a more modern lightweight. Although Soichiro had a fundamental aversion to imitation, his new ohv engine was uncannily similar to the singles made in Germany by NSU, then the most advanced small capacity bikes on the road. The Benly was complemented by Honda’s first scooter, the K Type Juno, also heavily inspired by European small-wheelers, but with added refinements, including a self-starter and a huge screen that formed part of a roof, anticipating something that was reinvented about 40 years iater. The bodywork was made of the latest wonder material, GRP (glass reinforced polyester), as first seen in the 1953 Chevrolet Corvette. 13
Classic Japanese Motorcycle Guide
Like everyone else, Honda struggled to achieve the desired consistency of finish with this new-fangled plastic, so it was a mixed blessing. Paint that wouldn't stick and a few surface imperfections were probably the least of the problems, because the Juno was slow, heavy and tended to overheat. More bad news, Honda soon discovered a major fault in the Benly’s unusual rear suspension
that required urgent rectification. Its new engine also suffered from unreliability and excessive mechanical noise.
Meanwhile, the latest version of the Dream was becoming a recurrent nightmare due to complaints about engines that didn’t tick over. To add to the generally dire situation, the Cub was suddenly starting to look old-fashioned — customers now wanted something better than a bicycle with a clip-on engine. After the initial rush, sales slowed dramatically. Honda faced a severe financial crisis, and a forced merger with the Mitsubishi Bank was narrowly avoided, thanks to Fujisawa’s negotiating skills and loyal staff prepared to work long hours, sometimes for no payment. Having been close to the brink, recovery came quickly. By 1955 the company was back on its feet again, established as the largest motorcycle manufacturer in Japan and freshly charged with a mission to become the World’s Number One. To this end, the President had already declared an intention to enter a machine in the Isle of Man TT, then the most prestigious race series of all. The bike would be a 250, with a specific power output of 100bhp per litre: a winning formula, he predicted. What he hadn’t realised, apparently, was that the best European racing engines were already developing about 150bhp per litre! A 1954 visit to the Island confirmed his worst fears. Basically, Japanese technology was completely outclassed at that time. Nevertheless, Mr Kawashima was given the task of designing a bike that would wow the world at next year’s TT. Unsurprisingly, that isn’t quite what happened.
The opposition arrives After his Isle of Man visit, Honda concluded that European manufacturers were able to build better bikes because of their history and experience. What he hadn’t expected was the emergence of home-grown rivals that were as good, almost immediately. At the inaugural Asama Road Races (despite the name, these were effectively off-road hill climbs) of 1955, Honda entered a team of bikes. The latest Dream won in the 350 and 500cc classes, but things went less well in the 250 and 125 events. The victorious 250 was a Lilac, made by the Marusho Motor Co., whose president happened to have worked under Honda in the Art Shokai era. The 125 race must have been humiliating. Another Lilac finished immediately
in front of the leading Honda, which came a lowly eighth. Ahead of that was a string of three bikes from a soon-to-be-famous marque. The badge on the side said Colleda, but the manufacturer was Suzuki, a firm more often associated with textiles
than transport. In fact, the management had been intending to diversify into the automotive field in the late 1930s with a car based on the Austin 7. Subsequent
Beginnings
About five years after Honda’s debut, Suzuki released the Power Free.
Mini Frees are very rare — and in this case very rusty!
events finished that idea, but when the looms business ran into trouble during the post-war slump, Suzuki was one of many firms that followed Honda into the powered bicycle market. The first model offered, in late 1951, was christened the Power Free. Few were sold because shortly after the launch changes in Japanese traffic laws were announced making it possible for anyone to ride a two-stroke bike of up to 60cc or a four-stroke up to 90cc, no licence required. Suzuki acted quickly, raising the capacity from 36cc to 58cc and adding a 2-speed gearbox, to create the Diamond Free. The general layout of the machine was similar to hundreds of others made all over the world in the early 1950s; a two-stroke engine clipped in the centre of the bicycle frame, just above the pedals. As with Honda’s early efforts, the only clever part was the transmission, which allowed internal combustion to augment manpower seamlessly. Sales were strong, and by 1954 the Suzuki Loom Manufacturing Co. was primed to churn out around 50,000 Diamond Frees per annum, prompting a change of name to the Suzuki Motor Co. 15
Classic Japanese Motorcycle Guide
Next came the Mini Free, more recognisable as a moped, and featuring an underslung engine driving the rear wheel through a vee-belt. In 1958 it transmogrified into the ‘Suzumoped’, but only a year later the line was abandoned to concentrate on bigger and better things. The company’s first ‘proper’ motorcycle was the Colleda CO of 1954. Again to take advantage of the licensing loophole, the engine was a 90cc four-stroke, a sidevalve single developing 4bhp. As with the power-assisted bicycles, design flair was not a noticeable quality, but the CO was well-built and came with suspension at both ends, lights and — a first for Japan — a speedometer. In 1955, unlicensed motorcycling was stopped again, so Suzuki enlarged the engine to 123cc. However, that was effectively the end of the company’s association with four-strokes for over twenty years, because at the same time a pair of smallcapacity two-strokes was launched, the 102cc Porter Free, and the 123cc Colleda ST, the latter being otherwise similar to the CO. Suzuki was firmly established as No 2 in Japan by this stage. A hint of the future arrived in 1956, with the unveiling of the Colleda TT, a 250cc two-stroke twin with ‘square’ 54mm cylinders. In every way this was the forefather of the bikes that brought worldwide success to Suzuki when exports began... So it seems rather strange that only a year later the TT was replaced by a 250 single! As it happened, this was a temporary aberration, and high-performance two-stroke twins of up to a half litre became a mainstay of the range until environmental protection considerations spoiled the party in the mid-1970s. Diamond Free was the next step up the evolutionary ladder.
16
Beginnings
Model MA (S0c.c:)
The
smart
“COLLEDA SELTWIN™
Model $B (125 ¢¢.)
s
A fy With |Dynamo star win cylinder
INE
Colour brochures for the cyclemotor and Colleda ranges of the 1950s.
Back to Asama, 1955. A Lilac and three Colledas finished ahead of the leading Honda in the 125 race, but to complete the embarrassment for Japan’s No 1, the first four
places in the 125 race were taken by a brand new machine from Nippon Gakki. If the name sounds unfamiliar, perhaps you may have heard of the company founder, Mr Yamaha? In a reversal of Suzuki’s thinking with the Colleda range, this is how the motorcycles were badged, in honour of the man who started it all, back in the 19th Century. Torakusu Yamaha served his apprenticeship with a British clockmaker, then moved into the manufacture of musical instruments, it’s said after he was asked
to repair the organ in his local Hamamatsu primary school. The business thrived
and became world-renowned in its field. Yamaha died in 1916, and in the following decade Nippon Gakki’s financial situation became less rosy, in part due to strikes and general industrial strife. A turnaround came through the efforts of anew president, Kaicha Kawakami, whose management style and approach to worker relations were later adopted as standard practice in Japanese factories (Suzuki apparently had yet to embrace the enlightened attitude, and was consequently crippled by strikes in the post-war years).
17
A painstakingly restored Colleda, the first of many 250 twins from Suzuki, although the ‘S’ tank badge might be the only clue.
Beginnings
Nippon Gakki’s manufacturing facilities were commandeered by the military during the war to make very unmusical objects, and in 1945 the factory suffered badly in Allied bombing raids. No doubt the Hamamatsu earthquake that reduced Honda’s early empire to rubble didn’t help much, either.
Production of musical instruments resumed after the war, but the decision to diversify was made in 1950, when Kawakami's 38-year-old son took over as president. With young blood at the helm, the change to motorcycles came partly because it was seen as a growing market, partly because the factory was full of old wartime engineering machinery that would otherwise remain unused. Rather than build a basic, powered pedal cycle as so many others were doing, Nippon Gakki aimed higher, and set to work on a proper motorcycle, to be assembled in a new, purpose-built factory. ‘If you are going to do something, be the best,’ Ginichi Kawakami, is quoted as saying. Noble words indeed, but it would be hard to imagine a business with the opposite aim! At the time, the pinnacle of two-stroke technology was still represented by German DKWs of the 1930s and ’40s, which were widely copied when the plans Yamaha aimed higher from the beginning. YA-1s were immediately successful in Japanese racing.
Classic Japanese Motorcycle Guide
YD1, the first of many Yamaha 250cc twins.
Beginnings
became available on a free-for-all basis as war reparations. Yamaha made no secret of the fact that the first YA-1 was inspired by the DKW RT125. Contrast that with the attitude in Britain, where BSA went to the trouble of producing a mirror-image copy of the same engine to power the Bantam, but remained tight-lipped to the end about the machine’s true origins. Over in America they were at it too, calling their version the Hummer, although this is one part of Hog history that tends to be glossed over these days. It’s also worth remembering that when Far Eastern bikes began to be imported to the UK, the British press was quick to dismiss Japanese manufacturers as being incapable of original thought! In fact, although it shared the same cylinder dimensions, the YA-1 wasn’t really as close to the DKW root as sometimes believed. While the RT125 (and BSA Bantam)
had a chain primary drive and three-speed gearbox, Yamaha incorporated a strong, geared primary drive and four-speed "box. Basically, the YA-1 was a better bike, the result of careful development and extensive testing in real-world conditions, which in early 1950s Japan effectively meant what we'd call long distance trail riding. Taking a leaf from Honda, perhaps, the production model was finished in a chestnut red livery, hence its nickname of ‘Aka-tombo’, translating as Red Dragonfly. Nippon Gakki’s venture into two-wheelers was immediately successful. A week after the official formation of the Yamaha Motor Co., YA-1s won the Mt. Fuji Ascent Race, followed by victory at Asama. By the end of 1955 the model was selling at a rate of a couple of hundred per month, despite a price tag the equivalent of over ten times a typical worker’s salary. Next came the YC1, a bigger two-stroke single ‘transfer engineered’ from the DKW RT175. Another German machine, the Adler MB250 twin was the starting point for the second move upwards, but the YD1, released by Yamaha in 1957, again contained much original thought, sharing only its basic layout and 54 x 54mm cylinder dimensions with the European bike. There had been no Asama races the previous year, but the YD1 spearheaded the campaign to beat the opposition in 1957. While still being somewhat backward compared with the European scene, the sport in Japan was now closer to our version of road racing, less of what we’d now term an enduro. Kawakami realised that Yamaha had to enter something special, so the YD1 was completely revised, with a duplex tubular frame instead of pressed steel, and 56 x 50mm bore and stroke dimensions. Power was up to 17bhp and weight was down. It worked: Yamahas took the first three places in the 250 event, backing up a one-two result for the 125s. Spurred on by this success, in 1958 Yamaha entered a 250 in the Catalina Grand Prix in America, where a creditable sixth place was achieved. A promising debut, and a few YD1s and MFIs (a 50cc ‘step-thru’) were sold on the strength of it by an enterprising Californian dealer. Thus, in a small way Yamaha had beaten Honda to a crucial overseas market. The edge was short-lived, though. An official Yamaha import and dealer network for the USA was only established in 1960, by which time Honda
had already set up shop in Los Angeles and sold a couple of hundred bikes. 21
The transmission is the other way round and the kickstart lever is on the left, but the 1959 YDS-1 set the pattern for Yamaha’s sporty 250 twins for the next 30 or 40 years.
Beginnings
Getting heavy Kawasaki, the last of the Japanese Big Four, arrived on the motorcycling scene comparatively late. Founded as a ship builder in 1878 by Shozo Kawasaki, the company grew to become an industrial giant encompassing virtually all forms of heavy engineering. Trains, boats, planes — you name it, Kawasaki made it. Unlike most, the
business was still in good shape after the war. Although many years passed before the Kawasaki badge appeared on a motorcycle, the company had two-wheeled links in this period, supplying engines for Meihatsu and Meguro, among others. Meguro was one of the few Japanese motorcycle manufacturers to resurface after World War Two. Somewhat ironically, the company began by building copies of British Velocette singles, post-war making a 500cc twin that was more or less a BSA A7 replica.
After setting up a motorcycle research offshoot, Kawasaki formed an increasingly close connection with Meguro, before the two companies amalgamated in 1963. The first bike credited as a Kawasaki, an unexceptional 125cc two-stroke single, made its debut two years earlier, but the marque only began to surface as one of the majors in the mid-1960s. Following the pattern of Meguro’s 500, the W1 was a 624cc vertical twin with pushrod-operated valve gear. In an era when large British bikes were still (just) best, here was an interesting alternative. The W1 was solidly-engineered and went well enough, but the reasons for buying one instead of a Triumph, BSA or Norton were hard to pinpoint, which probably explains why Japan’s first large-capacity machine was never officially sold in the UK and wasn’t wildly successful in America. For the moment, Kawasaki’s name was associated mainly with lightweight two-stroke
commuter bikes, but things would change. The W1 parallel twin. Looked like a BSA. Sounded like a BSA, but made by Kawasaki.
23
Classic Japanese Motorcycle Guide
Chapter 2
Predictably enough, Honda led the Japanese export drive. In 1957, a grand total of five motorcycles left the factory for overseas markets! It’s doubtful whether the rest of the motorcycling world lost much sleep. Although the German
industry was in decline, business was booming in Britain, on
the surface, at least. UK registrations had been rising through the decade, heading for a peak of 330,000 in 1959, while a constant stream of big BSAs, Triumphs, Nortons, Matchlesses, AJSs et al were finding new homes in America. As Harold MacMillan said, we’d never had it so good. But how long would it last? 1959 was also the year BMC launched the Mini, a small,
affordable car that catalysed a social revolution. While a motorcycle had traditionally been the transport for the working man, with the addition of a sidecar when his
nuclear family needed to come along for the ride, this wasn’t necessarily because everyone enjoyed being permanently wet, cold and deafened. Sensible people really preferred to sit in a warm car, so the availability of comfortable four-wheeled boxes that cost little more to buy or run than a ‘combo’ was a major threat to bike sales. So it proved. UK registrations drooped in the 1960s. Worse still, the Britishmanufactured proportion was shrinking. Part of the trouble was that we’d ignored the scooter craze until it was too late, leaving the door open for a flood of Italian Lambrettas and Vespas. Unsurprisingly, in view of the subject matter of this book, the other problem was the arrival of bikes from the Far East. The Honda race team in the Isle of Man. Note Super Cub scooterette on hand for runabout duties.
Going global
While the first Honda race bikes were unremarkable, within a few years Japanese technology had advanced
incredibly. The RC148/9 shared 125cc between five cylinders, had an 8-speed
gearbox and revved to over 20,000rpm.
Despite having transverse
engines, the RC165/6 sixes were hardly any wider across the fairing than many singles.
Only four cylinders for the RC181 500, but 80bhp at 12,000rpm seemed to be enough for Mike Hailwood.
25
Classic Japanese Motorcycle Guide
The marketing strategy was two-pronged. Honda finally achieved his TT goal in 1959. It wasn’t quite a fairy tale debut, but the four RC142 (125cc) twins entered were
certainly no embarrassment, finishing sixth, seventh, eighth and eleventh, which was enough to win the manufacturers’ prize. The team returned the following year, bigger and better, with a huge budget and plans to enter other European races as well as the TT. Already seen on Japanese tracks, the 125 now had a 250cc four-cylinder brother, effectively two of the same engines spliced together. Honda had also signed top-class riders such as Tom Phillis, Bob Brown and, last but definitely not least, Jim Redman, who did much to put the company on the map by going on to take 250cc and 350cc titles on the fours. From being something of a novelty act in 1959, Honda became dominant on the tracks within a few years. All this undoubtedly mattered in Europe, where motorcycling was more than just a means of transport, and the phrase, ‘racing improves the breed’ was accepted wisdom. The other part of Honda’s marketing strategy was really the smart bit. While circulating the Isle of Man at 1OOmph wowed enthusiasts, there existed a vast market for two-wheelers simply as a way of travelling from A to B. All over the globe there were potential customers who would buy a motorcycle if only it could be cheap, reliable, convenient and economical, especially if itdidn’t make too much noise or mess. Scooters fitted the bill, but the majority of British bikes didn’t, sadly, even though there had been attempts to produce such a thing in the past, the Velocette Honda’s Super Cub of 1958 gave millions of customers exactly what they wanted.
Going global
LE being the prime example. Unlike the oily-fingernailed traditionalist, ‘Everyman’ didn’t know how his transport functioned, and had no wish to find out. Ideally, the only involvement required would be the tedious chore of filling the petrol tank occasionally. Beyond that, ignorance was bliss. So, while a racetrack presence put names in front of enthusiasts, fulfilling the basic transport need was just as important. To this end, in 1958 Honda unveiled the Super Cub, aka Scooterette, Step-Thru, plus some less flattering and repeatable names. Here was a motorcycle for non-motorcyclists, a key ingredient being a semiautomatic transmission, an idea resurrected from the first Dream. Coordinating a
throttle, clutch and gears takes skill, so Honda developed a clutch that took up the drive by centrifugal means from a standstill, making stalling impossible. An additional linkage to the gear lever ensured that further progress could be made with equal ease. All the rider had to do was twist the throttle. In the company President’s words: ‘I want to make it so the noodle shop delivery boy can balance his tray on one hand and operate the bike with the other.’ Power came from a brilliantly simple SOcc engine that turned out to be so dependable that it usually remained hidden under the bike’s distinctive one-piece plastic legshield. A two-stroke would have been the easy option, but Honda insisted on a four-stroke. Finding space inside such a tiny cylinder head for valves and a standard 14mm spark plug was the first problem faced by designers, solved by commissioning NGK to produce a special miniature plug (for which every other
motorcycle manufacturer has since been grateful). Other features of note included a lubrication system that functioned without an oil pump and the ability to rev to about 10,000rpm, producing a very healthy 4.5bhp in the process. The Super Cub, or C100, to use one of Honda’s sometimes baffling model designations, avoided the scooter’s unhappy weight distribution and the instability problems of small wheels by hanging the engine below a pressed-steel spine frame, with its cylinder projecting forwards almost horizontally. The power unit was attached to the frame by just two bolts, and the rider’s footrests were fixed directly to the underside of the crankcases. Thus, if anything went wrong, the top half could be removed in minutes, the complete power unit in not much longer. Such was its essential ruggedness that the engine typically remained undisturbed, but no doubt Honda was really thinking more about how to make Super Cubs quick to assemble in his factory. Evidently, he was successful because 25,000 were put together in a few months after the launch and, before long, C100s were leaving the production line at a rate of one every 12 seconds. Good though the Step-Thru was, it still wouldn’t have sold if its existence hadn’t been brought to the attention of millions of prospective buyers through a novel advertising campaign. Thanks to Mods, Rockers, Hell’s Angels and Marlon Brando, motorcycling had an image problem, particularly in America. To sell Super Cubs, Honda had to change people’s preconceptions by targeting those who would never ordinarily be associated with the dreaded ‘Bikers’. Adverts duly appeared in magazines such as 7ime and Reader’s Digest, with the memorable slogan ‘You Meet the Nicest People on a Honda’. These nice people were young, clean and carefree — definitely ZY
Classic Japanese Motorcycle Guide
not the oil-spattered undesirables who rattled around on Harley-Davidsons and Triumphs, looking louche.
It worked, and Honda was soon selling half amillion Step-Thrus a year, making the Super Cub by far the most successful motorcycle of all time, with production passing the 50 million mark in 2005. The consequences of this revolutionary approach can’t be overestimated. All the other manufacturers, including British ones, benefited
from the ‘Nice People’ effect, because having tried small two-wheelers, more than a few were tempted to buy bigger bikes for leisure use, fuelling a surge in American sales during the Sixties. Harley, the only surviving US marque, didn’t gain much at the time, judging by the company’s worsening financial state, but even they cashed in eventually. It’s quite possible that there wouldn’t be a motorcycle market forty years later if it hadn’t been for Honda’s ‘Nice People’, so who’d be buying all those big V-twins from Milwaukee now!
Japanese bikes first came to Europe in 1959. Having created plenty of interest at the TT, Honda exhibited the C71 Dream at the Amsterdam show, but it took a couple of Who could resist a bike with whitewall tyres? Hydraulic rear brake was certainly ahead of its time.
Here is the SUZUKI
250TC
the new motorcycle with the sports-car look
Steering damper adjustable to driving conditions
2.5 gallon fuel tank Comfortable hard-rubber { knee grips
. Extra-long clulutch lever Easy-to-read speedometer
Easil ib! choke for sily accessible sure starting
with neutral gear indicator lights
Dependable
2 carburetors for
headlamp
ideal fuel distribution
Effective hydraulic shock absorber
i Sturdy luggage carrier
Bright brake and tail lights
Bright turning signals
Bright turning signal Newly designed handlebars for comfortable long-distance driving
Sturdy front fender
constant-mesh transmission
Telescopic front fork
Smooth-running 2-stroke engine
Sure-acting front brakes
Quick-acting electric starter ———
28
Powerful hydraulic rear brakes Scientifically designed muffler Road-holding 17” white-walled tires
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COSTS > KEEPING DOWN RUNNING Top: C92 Benly, more often seen with a dualseat instead of rear Carrier. Above: Suzuki TB twin hit the UK in mid-1962.
Left: Very, was the answer to the question posed in 1961!
29
Classic Japanese Motorcycle Guide
years more before sales began in earnest. British imports were initially handled by the concessionaire for Maico, an established German marque. Honda England was set up in 1962, under the control of Jim Harrison, a former director of Raleigh, which in those days had a ‘motorised’ division that sold a lot of mopeds. Soon after, another defecting stalwart of the home industry, ex-Francis-Barnett man, George Denton, became the driving force behind Yamaha’s UK importer, Mitsui. Possibly the ultimate affront to patriots happened in 1963 when Associated Motorcycles Ltd, the parent company of a clutch of famous British marques including Norton, AJS and Matchless, became the Suzuki concessionaire! If you can’t beat em, join em, maybe? To add insult to injury, the sales operation was based in the old James factory, deep in the heart of the Midlands. Is nothing sacred? AMC’s official view was that the Japanese bikes would complement the home-grown ones, not compete with them, which seems odd at the very least, stupid with the benefit of hindsight. By this time the press was buzzing with news of Far Eastern motorcycles. Compared with the ‘Nice People’ message dreamed up by a Los Angeles agency, ads carried by publications such as Motorcycle, Scooter and Three-Wheeler Mechanics (don’t worry, the title was abbreviated in later life when scooters and three-wheelers fell out of fashion) seemed less than inspired. Consider this 1962 gem: ‘Yamaha Motorcycles: travel the roads of the world...’, was the slogan, illustrated by cut-out pictures of an MF1 scooterette, YDS1 and YD2 twins, and an unspecified racing bike, whose ‘driver’ was Shiro Itoh. Or how about this from Suzuki, promoting the 250TB: ‘YOU'LL MARVEL AT THE THRILLING EASY RIDE!!’? Catchy, eh? It appears that these early ads were placed directly by the parent companies in Hamamatsu, where those responsible may not have spoken English very well. To our occasional amusement, it took another twenty years or so before Japanese manufacturers managed to produce owners’ manuals in understandable English. Honda adopted an ‘advertorial’, information-packed tactic, devoting considerable space to dispel some lingering myths about life in Japan. ‘IT’S NOT DONE ON A BOWL OF RICE A DAY! The average Honda worker earns between £45 and £50 a month. If he is a bachelor, he can rent a Company apartment for 10s a month; if he has a family, the Company will either rent him a house for &3 a month, or advance him the money to buy the house, often without security. Lunch in the spotless modern canteen costs 9d, and there are Clubhouse recreational facilities at every factory.’
The ad also includes a profile of Soichiro Honda, a detailed specification of the latest C92 Benly twin, flattering quotations from a rival magazine, and a boast that the company could design a completely new model, from first ideas through to roadtesting, in only seven days, which seems incredible even now, in the age of CAD and computer-controlled robots. Evidence to back up Honda’s claims was available in the December 1961 edition of the same publication, where the C92 was given the road test treatment. With the exception of slight criticism of the rear brake, lack of aparking light and a fuel 30
Going global
consumption figure of only 92mpg (!), the bike was obviously a winner, even at a price some 30 per cent above that ofa British lightweight of similar capacity. Six months later the new Suzuki 250TB was under the spotlight, some time before the company had an official UK arm. Again, the tester praised almost every aspect: performance, comfort, finish, electrics (‘...every motorcyclist has a right to expect an electric starter as standard...’), styling, economy. The price was still unknown, but the writer reckoned that even at £250 he’d buy it in preference to most other 250s. Other manufacturers had better watch out, he concluded, sagely. He was right, of course, particularly the unnamed home-grown ones whose finish was ‘put to shame’ by the Japanese interloper. But were Triumph, BSA, Norton, AJS,
Villiers, Royal Enfield et al worried yet? Probably, but they weren’t about to admit it, obviously. In the famous last words of the captain of 7i/anic: ‘Be British.’ One man certainly knew the truth, though. In 1958, Edward Turner, who had
designed the Speed Twin and steered Triumph on a path to post-war glory, wrote an article warning of the threat from Japan. He had visited the factories, and realised
immediately that the old order was in serious trouble, warning that Britain might not have an industry in a few decades if we weren't careful. But it seemed that no-one really listened, so the radical changes that would have been necessary to compete never happened. British manufacturers blundered on in much the same way, building outdated designs on ancient machinery, using traditional, labour-intensive methods. At the time, a naive belief existed to the effect
that the Japanese would be content to build small-capacity bikes and not have the expertise to produce competitive, large-capacity machines. Wrong, wrong, wrong! 1965 Suzuki S32 was a luxury 150cc twin with electric start, intended to woo Americans.
31
Classic Japanese Motorcycle Guide
Chapter 3
Some pioneers Few early Japanese motorcycles survive in Britain, and there are several reasons for this. First, despite all those rave reviews, sales volumes were not
huge, due to a combination of patriotism, high prices and a sparse dealer network. Secondly, nearly all the bikes imported in the first half of the 1960s were under 250cc, which sentenced most to a premature death by L-plated riders. It’s also true to say that in some ways Japanese bikes were less rugged than British machines, in the sense that they responded badly to amateur DIY attacks. Chain-driven overhead camshafts, horizontally split crankcases and metric spanners were novel concepts in those days, so backyard bodgers were on dangerous ground! Many Hondas in particular featured pressed-steel frames, swinging arms and fork blades, leading to the same type of corrosion problems suffered by classic cars. A frame made of tubular steel tends to resist rust almost indefinitely and can be straightened when damaged. Conversely, a frame made of thin-gauge pressings is difficult, or impossible, to straighten and can rot away in a few years, as many StepThru owners discovered at MoT test time. The final nail in the coffin was the ‘instant obsolescence’ factor; i.e. such was the pace of progress that many models were updated every year and replaced by something completely different within five years. As a consequence, depreciation rates
could be ruinous and spares tended to be difficult to find. Honda’s laudable policy was that any part for any bike was theoretically available, but in some cases this meant waiting a very long time for a piece of the jigsaw to be made in Japan. All of which resulted in a situation where bikes were far more likely to be scrapped than tucked away in sheds, swathed in an unintentional layer of preserving oil, as happened to many British relics. Latterly, the European and American cache of classics has been further depleted by another interesting development. Considerable quantities of motorcycles are being re-exported back to their Japanese homeland, where old, and not so old, models are
much prized.
For these reasons, pre-1965 Suzondahakis are difficult to find in Britain, but it is worth running through some early Oriental hits, just in case you unearth a rarity. Apart from the C100-series Step-Thrus, which hit the UK in 1963, Honda’s ohc twins
were the ones that established the Japanese export presence. The line in 1957 with the C70 Dream, displacing 247cc and producing 18bhp at Points of interest included dry-sump lubrication and a clutch mounted the end of the crankshaft. As seen for the first time in Europe, the C71
began back 7,400rpm. directly on was much
the same, but with the addition of a chain-drive electric starter on the front of
the crankcases. 32
‘Gor Blimey, this little thing’s as fast as my Beesa 650!’ C95 twin was basically a C92, expanded to 154cc.
From this root came the wet-sumped C72, plus the 305cc C75, achieved with an
overbore from 54mm to 60mm. In addition, both the engine and chassis were scaled down to create the C90/C92 125cc and C95 154cc twins. This was only the beginning of it, because there were variations on the theme, especially of the larger twins. CS denoted a ‘street scrambler’, CB a sports roadster, CL a trail bike, CD a commuter, CR a racer, CBM a roadster with high handlebars — as also was a CP,
apparently, but these were intended for Police use. Yes, Honda model designations can be confusing. None of this matters much here, though, because the Step-Thrus, CB72 and CB92 were, and are, the only models of this vintage to have a significant impact on European sensibilities. The CB92 was basically similar to the C92 Benly mentioned in the previous chapter, still using a pressed-steel frame, and still bearing traces of the strangely angular styling seen on the first Dream twins, said to have been the work of the President himself, inspired by Buddhist temples. Skimpy mudguards and a tiny fly screen added a rakish air. Twin carbs and a generally higher state of tune boosted power to 15bhp at 10,500rpm, an astonishing feat in an era when the average pushrod twin threatened to scatter its innards to the four winds at 6,000rpm.
33
Gest Friengt
S72 SOL 0 Sterter items
i
Some CB92s ended up on the track, and Honda sold a few hundred ready-to-race CB92Rs.
Perhaps one of the most striking features of the bike was its enormous drum brakes, twin leading shoe at both ends, which looked as if they came straight from the racetrack. And did, in fact! Many 650s of the day had less stopping power, and typical lightweights of the early 1960s were still fitted with flimsy, single leading shoe drums made of pressed steel. The CB92 was certainly a cutie, with a top speed of over 7Omph, exceptional brakes, but slightly suspect handling. Sadly, it’s definitely a rarity now, and unlikely to be seen outside concours arenas. Moving up, the CB72, aka Dream Super Sports, was very different from the ordinary C72. Although the frame was still a spine type, the engine playing a structural role, it was made of welded tube, and telescopic forks provided front suspension, rather than leading links with pressed blades. Fuel was carried in a chrome-sided tank that was obviously inspired more by the traditional petrol receptacles fitted to British machines than temples. The sporty styling was complemented by larger, 18-inch wheels, abbreviated mudguards and a skeletal chain guard. While the engine followed the same basic recipe of an overhead cam driven by a central chain, there were various detail changes. Most fundamentally, the crankshaft was now a ‘one up, one down’ design, whereas all previous versions had used the normal arrangement as per British vertical twins, where both pistons move in unison. Staggering the firing intervals reduces ‘pumping losses’ (basically the amount of 34
Some pioneers
power wasted by an engine as it digests air) and decreases one type of vibration, but introduces a rocking motion to the crankshaft. Hopefully, the overall effect is to reduce stress on the engine at high rpm. Which was fortunate, because the CB72 also revved to unheard of speeds by the standards of the day, making a very distinctive howling noise (another 180-degree twin characteristic) when homing in on the redline. 24bhp at 9,000rpm was the quoted output, giving a top speed of about 90mph, equalling that of many a traditional 500. More startling still, some minor attention to the cylinder head would turn it into a ton-up 250, which remained the holy grail for learners on quarter-litre bikes until 1983, when legislation forced them to ride 12bhp 125s. Motorcycle Mechanics magazine persuaded one such beast, fresh from competing in the Bemsee 1,000km race at Silverstone, to clock no less than 102mph.
Honda’s ultimate road bike for the moment, the bored-out 305cc CB77, was almost as fast straight out of the crate, thanks to the extra capacity and resultant 27bhp at 9,000rpm (in the US, the CB72 was the Hawk and the CB77 the Super Hawk, but we already had Humber Hawk cars in the UK, so the names weren’t used). While
some lesser Hondas had been flawed in handling and suspension, the updated CB chassis coped well. Some idiosyncrasies remained, however, including a kickstart lever that worked in a forwards direction. Fortunately, the electric starter made it largely redundant in most circumstances, but racers and ‘by-pass cowboys’ found that kicking would be impossible with the lever hiding inside a full fairing. CB72 250 and similar CB77 305 featured tubular spine frame and 180-degree crankshaft, giving distinctive exhaust note.
Classic Japanese Motorcycle Guide
Right: Long-distance CB77 rider stops off for a service in Essex Honda shop.
Below: CL Dream sported a set of curvaceous high-level exhausts.
E
Bare
fez
Some pioneers
Although the Japanese were once accused of being the copiers, Italian manufacturer Laverda later produced a 650 twin that looked uncannily similar to Honda’s!
In 1965, British manufacturers’ worst nightmares began to come true. Rumours had been circulating for a while that Honda was going to launch a larger bike, and it happened! In some respects — parallel twin-cylinder, back-to-front BSA petrol tank — the new CB450 was like the CB72/77, but there were important differences. The 444cc engine featured double overhead cams, which was common enough in the car world (Jaguar since 1948, for instance) but an exotic touch on a road-going bike. These were driven by a central chain, as before, and were housed in a large and intricate cylinder head casting. As per their V12 Formula 1 engines, Honda chose to use torsion bar valve springs in this instance. Tappet clearances were adjusted by means of eccentric rocker spindles, rather than the usual screw and locknut arrangement. Two carburettors were employed (single carbs just don’t work properly on a 180degree twin), of the constant velocity type, similar to the SU used by so many British cars, and as briefly fitted to Triumph’s 650 in the 1950s. CVs have several advantages: they increase the potential amount of fuel and air sucked into the engine because a bigger choke size can be used, they make the throttle action lighter (no heavy springs needed to close the slide), and improve economy. In a pre-fuel crisis world, it is doubtful whether anyone cared greatly about economy, though. 43bhp was of more interest to most people, a figure not far short of that quoted for many 650s, but delivered at 50 per cent higher rpm. The CB450 arrived in Britain in 1966, backed by an advertising campaign that gave it a memorable nickname: ‘Meet the big black bomber ... Sit astride this big black beauty. Feel the size. Feel the power. Don‘t worry any more about capacity or revs — the Honda 450’s got both ...’ Stirring stuff indeed. 37
Classic Japanese Motorcycle Guide
The new engine was housed in a full cradle frame that certainly looked strong enough, although appearances can be deceptive. A steering damper came as standard, and there were some neat touches elsewhere, particularly the combined speedometer and rev counter set into the top of the headlamp shell. While staring at the latter instrument, awe-struck punters would have noted a redline starting just shy of 10,000rpm.
Yet, for all its advanced specification, the performance wasn’t quite as good as expected. Road tests quoted top speeds of not much more than 100mph. An updated K1 version with different carburettors, five-speed gearbox and more svelte styling became available about a year later. Power was up to 45bhp, and the extra gear helped acceleration, but, despite the promises, 444 Honda cee-cees were not really the equal of 650 British ones. As Americans never tire of saying, there’s no substitute for cubes. They demonstrated as much by mostly continuing to buy Harley, Triumph, BSA and Norton twins instead of CB450s. Relatively speaking, the 450 was probably more successful in the UK, and tends to be fondly remembered, despite some unfortunate reliability problems concerning
Close-up of the 450’s twincamshaft, torsion-bar valve
spring power unit. Unusually for an early Honda, there were some reliability issues.
Top right: The CB450 Black Bomber, which wasn’t necessarily black...
Right: There aren’t many left now, but this is how a Black Bomber might look if you did find one.
38
LN
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p= SLR eteSeertesnaey
Classic Japanese Motorcycle Guide
the complicated valve gear. Updates were made, but many Hondas have been dogged by similar troubles over the years since, as later chapters will reveal. As an aside, it’s interesting to note that in the 1930s, when Edward Turner and Triumph were working on prototypes of the bike that became the Speed Twin, an overhead camshaft engine was eventually rejected because of reliability issues. It seems that even with another thirty years of technology, not all the solutions had been found. In the mid-1960s, Honda’s line-up was expanding rapidly. The CB92 turned into the CB93 when it too gained a tubular frame and telescopic forks, but subsequent models were given designations reflecting their capacity. Thus, the CB160 really did have an engine of the suggested displacement, and there was no need to guess what a CB125 or CD175 might be. When the Step-Thru was fitted with an ohc engine in 1966, it was rechristened as the C50, logically enough, although some might have been baffled by later expanded versions, C70 and C90 having previously referred to 250cc and 125cc twins!
First CD175 commuter featured inclined cylinder barrels, like earlier twins, but the model number now reflected the engine capacity.
Honda’s advertising became a lot more sophisticated after a few years, as this un-PC campaign for the PC50 moped illustrates!
Classic Japanese Motorcycle Guide
Suzuki and Yamaha’s earliest imports have hens’ teeth status in Britain now. Both manufacturers made their name here with small two-stroke twins, but anything pre1965 is a rarity. Suzuki really arrived when they replaced the T10 with the T20, a rapid 250 that owed much to the company’s racetrack success, which was largely acquired when M7Z’s star rider, Ernst Degner, defected from the Eastern Bloc to the Far East,
complete with all the company’s two-stroke expertise. In the UK the model was more commonly known as the Super Six, a reference to its quota of gears, and a cheeky bit of one-upmanship aimed at Royal Enfield, whose Super 5 had previously been a contender for the hottest 250 award. On the other side of the Atlantic it was called the X6 Hustler, but whatever the name, the important thing to note was that the quarter-litre stakes had been raised to a new level. After the six-speed gearbox, 29bhp at 7,500rpm was the headline-grabbing feature, good for a ton-up top speed, they reckoned, with the usual optimism. Unless you rode a slightly modified example down a steep hill in the Isle of Man, reality was 5—-8mph slower, but no matter. It was still very fast for a 250. And also very sophisticated, because the 54mm ‘square’ twin had been completely redesigned compared with the T10 and its TA/TB/TC forebears. As with Honda twins, the crankcases were now horizontally split, making oil leaks less likely, while simplifying assembly and dismantling, should the need arise. Instead of relying on the messy and haphazard practice of pre-mixing oil and petrol for lubrication of the pistons and bearings, Suzuki used their new Posi-Force system. Oil was now injected into the cylinders and outer main bearings by means of a pump driven by the engine, while the centre bearing was lubed by a bleed from the gearbox. Although none of this was an entirely new idea (Yamaha came first with Autolube, and even the BSA Bantam, née DKW, featured main bearings bathed in oil channelled from the gearbox), it undoubtedly made two-strokes more user-friendly, provided owners remembered to top up the supply tank, of course... The Super Six stirred up the market, and received the coveted Motor Cycle News Machine of the Year award for 1966, a first for a Japanese bike. And a second, because it won again the following year, only relinquishing the title to Norton’s Commando in ‘68. Racing success was also virtually guaranteed, and bikes prepared by long-standing dealer/enthusiast, Eddie Crooks, broke several World speed and distance records. Except for an above-average amount of speed and two cylinders, Suzuki’s 250 had almost nothing in common with the rival Honda CB72. Looking past the obvious, however, there’s a tenuous link in that both had unusual kickstarts! As mentioned, the Honda’s pivoted forwards. Meanwhile, Suzuki’s engine was arranged in such a way that the lever was on the left side, which meant that most people would do the necessary with their right leg, standing beside the bike. Fine in LHD countries, potentially risky in the rest of the world. Top right: T250 followed Super Six in 1968. Right: T305 was basically an overbored T250.
42
Some pioneers
Suzuki also scaled down the engine to create the
Opposite top: ‘A Flying Leopard with Grand Prix Looks’ trumpeted Suzuki’s ads, but
X5, or T200 (196cc, 50 x 50mm), but this tends to be overshadowed by its big brothers and is now rare.
T125 Stinger’s hybrid look was not to everyone’s taste.
Moving down a class, the 1969-on T125 Stinger (not to Opposite bottom: T350 be confused with the earlier TC200 Stingray) was an went a stage further, but model designation was an interesting diversion. With its high-level exhausts, spine exaggeration. frame and twin-cylinder engine with almost horizontal cylinder barrels, it looked like nothing else. Its 1Sbhp at 8,500rpm ensured that it went like almost nothing else of similar capacity, but the manufacturer seemed as confused about the bike as everyone else, judging by the ads. Leaving aside Kawasaki and its BSA-clone W1, Suzuki was the second of the Big Four to stray from the smaller capacity classes. In 1967, hot on the wheels of the Honda CB450, Hamamatsu did the allegedly impossible and launched a 492cc two-stroke twin. In most respects the T500 was like an expanded Super Six, right down to the awkward kickstart lever sprouting from the left side of the gearbox. Even the chassis, a wide duplex cradle frame with a long swinging arm, looked similar, but There's only one bigger. Slightly worryingly on a machine that weighed thing in front of about 5O0kg more, the front brake was identical. Only ® Suzuki riderhis head eq lamp. Well—you've gc LtO admil five gears were available, but that was still one more that when the lights turn green the Suz Suzuki take-off leave s eaves almost$ every thing in its classé than the opposition. Standing. But, it’s NOt ust p, vlormance Us the style In a perfect world, the 500 engine would have tfc Yes. VOU've got seal Valu e been good for nearly 60bhp. Unfortunately, doubling for money with a Suzuki between your knees capacity rarely doubles power, so 47bhp at 7,000rpm was your lot. According to the manufacturer, a standing quarter mile in 13.2 seconds and a top speed of 110-120mph was on the cards. Road test figures were generally less impressive (aren’t they always?), but nevertheless it did seem that Suzuki's horses were stronger than arch rival Honda’s. More accessible, too, because the engine pulled strongly from 3,000rpm through to the redline, whereas the CB450 gained its power from high revs, feeling quite weak and unhappy if asked to trundle along Su
thatk
Suzuk)
—rehability—
the
in traditional four-stroke twin fashion. Speaking of which, at the time, the main
pe
SUZU, —SAZ(Gre UI atBritai G n) UMITED.
opposition was probably the Triumph Daytona 500, the ultimate in a long line of tuned Trumpets. Despite being a ‘ring-dinger’, the T500’s power output and rev range were remarkably similar. In every other way the
TROJAN WORKS. p
1968 advertisement for the T500 MkIl Titan and AS50.
Classic Japanese Motorcycle Guide
two were remarkably dissimilar, however, as anyone who’s ridden both can confirm.
While Suzuki’s way of doing things (reliably, and without leaking oil or needing constant maintenance, said a cynic) had its compensations, the British alternative held various trump cards. For instance, few would claim that a big two-stroke twin makes a pleasant noise, and the trail of blue smoke left in the T500’s wake could be a smelly embarrassment, even in the days before environmental protection became an issue. The Titan — or Cobra in Britain because there was already a London-based company called Read Titan — had another bad habit: it vibrated quite badly, a consequence of the rocking couple set up by 180-degree firing intervals.
Full marque: 1966 also gave Britain two new Japanese marques. One of them became a quarter of the Big Four, while the other proved that success wasn’t guaranteed for the Land of the Rising Sun by disappearing again before the decade was out. Dealing with the failure first, Bridgestone, a name still very familiar as a tyre manufacturer now,
HII. SMI m1 VERPOO JNO. 9 DE. IN Al
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Left: Three Bridgestones out for a ride in 1968, somewhere near Chester.
Below: Bridgestone 90 single had a pressedsteel spine frame with an unconvincing bolt-on downtube that must have been there more for show than go.
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ick Sas BOSE
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Bridgestone’s ultimate 350 twin was available in GTR form as a roadbike, or as this GTO ‘street scrambler’
with high-level exhausts and engine bashplate.
began motorcycle production in the same year as Suzuki. From the familiar starting point producing clip-on engines for bicycles, by the mid-1960s the range included technically adventurous two-strokes with disc valve induction, which spurred Chester-
based racer/dealer Bill Smith to begin UK imports. The range included 50cc and 90cc singles and a pair of 175cc twins, but the flagship was the 350GTR, touted as a 110mph road burner. Quoted power outputs varied, with 40bhp being the most optimistic. Although one road test came close on top speed and clocked a 15-second standing quarter, it’s doubtful the true horsepower figure was much more than about 32—34bhp. But the 345cc twin certainly had potential. While following the basic layout of the Suzuki Super Six, the GTR’s secret weapon was a pair of side-mounted 26mm Mikuni carbs breathing through disc valves outboard of the crankshaft. The obvious disadvantages of this system (another idea pioneered by East German DKW racers, incidentally) include making the engine much wider, while leaving nowhere obvious to put a generator or ignition triggers. Bridgestone solved some of the problems by using a separate shaft behind the cylinder barrels to operate the electrics, a practice that became almost obligatory 15 years later when designers were trying to reduce the width of transverse fours. The extra complication of disc valve induction is warranted because it allows port timing to be optimised. With normal, piston-ported two-strokes, an engine tuned for power at high revs tends to behave badly at low revs. Disc valve timing can be less of a compromise because it doesn’t have to be symmetrical (in relation to TDC and BDC). 47
Classic Japanese Motorcycle Guide
Other features of note included a six-speed gearbox, foot controls that could be fitted to either side, and a gearbox oil level sight glass, a convenience later widely copied by other manufacturers. It’s often claimed that the Kawasaki Z1 was the first to have this useful feature: not true! On the chassis side, the twin-cradle frame was mostly
conventional, but for rear suspension adjustment effected by moving the damper top mounts instead of through the usual rotating pre-load collars. This particular idea was stolen from Velocette, it has been suggested, not without reason. Bridgestones were fast, handled and braked as well as anything else around at the same time, and looked good. So why were only 1,200 sold in the three years they were on the British market, only about 30 of those being 350GTRs? The missing ingredients seemed to be value for money, coupled with the fact that Honda, Suzuki and Yamaha dealers were everywhere, but buying a Bridgestone was not so easy, even if you could afford one. Why pay almost a pound per cee-cee for a 100mph 350, when a Triumph Bonneville 650 hardly cost any more?
nawasakl The other 1966 newcomer was Kawasaki, of course, which gained early notoriety for the 250 Samurai (A1) and 350 Avenger (A7). In many ways these were similar to the Bridgestone GTR, being two-stroke parallel twins with disc valve induction. Both were also touted with some fairly outrageous performance claims, the 338cc Avenger having a purported 42bhp, which would allegedly produce a 13.8-second standing quarter and 110mph top speed. The Samurai, which arrived first, was good for 31bhp at 8,000rpm and 103mph, it was claimed. Both figures were more than a little bit unrealistic, but a 40bhp tuned version known as the A1R provided evidence that it could happen. While the standard Al and A7’s real-world performance was similar to that available elsewhere, Kawasaki’s much trumpeted ‘aircraft tolerance engineering’ could be seen in the way the bike was put together. Stainless steel mudguards and seamless silencers gave a quality air, and generally looked better than the ancillaries used by the opposition. Oddities included a gearbox working in a ‘five-up’ sequence, which could be confusing to those who changed down as far as possible when coming to rest and then attempted to start off in neutral! Kawasaki's early UK imports were made through C. Itoh & Co. racer named Peter Chapman, who had been impressed by the 250s on Japanese tracks. After going on display at the Earls Court Show, of bikes duly came to Britain. However, it seems that Chapman was
working for a
he had seen a small batch really more
interested in AlRs than street bikes, so Kawasakis remained scarce here until
1970, when a European distribution centre was set up and Agrati took over as UK concessionaire, by which time even more outrageous things were on offer, as well discover. Meanwhile, Yamaha had been offering a variety of small-capacity singles and twins. After concentrating on luxury models in the early years, the image progressively
48
Some pioneers
Above left and right: Before the infamous triples arrived, Kawasaki made some very fast twins. This is the Ai 250.
Below: Yamaha’s over-the-counter racing twins used engines derived from street bikes, but this 1969 TD2’s frame was heavily influenced by Norton Featherbed.
49
Classic Japanese Motorcycle Guide
1968 Yamaha
DT71, first of a new breed of leisure bike.
became more associated with speed, thanks to success on the racetracks and a range of bikes that benefited directly. The sporty 250 twin line began in the UK with the YDS-2, which used essentially the same engine as the YDS-1. ‘What a fantastic machine this new Yamaha is!’ gushed Motorcycle Mechanics’ (McM) January 1963 road test, for good reason. Criticisms were slight: the suspension was a bit bouncy and induction noise was considered excessive. The final verdict must have been painful to read for British bike enthusiasts (and manufacturers). ‘This engine is without doubt one the finest two-stroke units ever built for road use and the machine as a whole rates as one of the best in the world.’ It wasn’t quite perfect, though, and the 1965 YDS3 (the hyphen in Yamaha model designations tended to disappear later in the 1960s) featured a stronger crankshaft with improved seals and redesigned cylinder heads. Autolube was another major advance, from a convenience point of view. There was no YDS4, because that’s an unlucky number to the Japanese, but the YDS5 had been redesigned substantially, with the clutch moved from the crank to the gearbox input shaft, alloy barrels, 12V electrics and larger, 26mm, carburettors. Further improvements were made in 1968, and the YDSO appeared the following year, the emphasis this time being on reducing noise. Running in parallel with the 250s from 1967, the YR1, YR2 and YR3 had 348cc (61 x 59.6mm) engines giving about 10bhp more. 50
Some pioneers
Heading into the 1970s, the YDS7 used a completely new engine with horizontally split crankcases and ‘square‘ 54mm cylinders. Its YRS big brother moved to 64 x 54mm dimensions. A similar layout was used for all the subsequent 250, 350 and 400 twins — even the liquid-cooled models were fundamentally the same. In 1966 the 250 twins were joined by the YL1, a sub-100cc buzz-bomb, joined in 1968 by the YAS1 125, with 15bhp. While this was the same figure as Honda had claimed for the CB92, two-strokes fire twice as often, so the power arrived at relatively low revs (i.e. less than 10,000rpm!), making Yamaha’s eighth-litre almost certainly the fastest. The range of singles that came to the UK in 1963 through Mitsui included the electric-start YA-5, derived from the DKW 125 root, but now with the added
sophistication of rotary valve induction. 1964 gave us the almost immortal 80cc YG1, which was later joined by its YB100 offshoot, both identifiable by inclined cylinder barrels and spine frames. 1968 saw the beginning of the trail bike range, in the form of the all-new DT1,
powered by a 250cc single. However, this was intended to be a motorcycle for Americans to ride in wide open spaces, and it took several years before anyone imagined that Brits would want to indulge in that sort of thing. Left: ‘Epoch-making’ 125, yours
for £187 in 1963.
A BSA Bantam
175 cost just £134 at the time, while a Honda CB92 was a few shillings less than £200.
Below: Mitsui’s initial range of Yamahas. Note confused model names and bad spelling!
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1977 and Kawasaki goes sensible with the Z200.
102
Kawasaki
Twins Z250 Scorpion and GPz305 Kawasaki's efforts to increase its market share were not always a total success. By the mid-1970s, the writing was on the wall for two-strokes like the KH250, which was a major problem in the UK, where a significant slice of total sales was accounted for by learners restricted to quarter-litre engines. So important was this sector that in 1976 the company set to work to design a 250 specially for us, bless them. With due reference to what was currently on offer, i.e. the supremely dull Honda CJ250T, Kawasaki aimed to produce something similar but better. Not difficult, you may think. The result emerged in 1979 and hit dealerships the following year, almost missing the 250 boom that fizzled out as the 1983 125 learner limit neared. Coded Z250 but also known as the Scorpion, the most noticeable thing about the model was its diminutive size. Most 250s on sale were really designed as 350s or 400s (e.g. Honda CB400T Dream, Yamaha XS360/400) for the US market and then given a reduced capacity engine to satisfy silly British laws. Not the Scorpion, which was deliberately made so the engine couldn’t be enlarged, and built with lightness in mind. The power source was a simple sohc twin, with a 180-degree crank running in roller bearings, the only anti-vibration measure being partial rubber mounting. Displacing 248cc from 55 x 52.4mm dimensions, 27bhp at 10,000rpm was claimed, about par for the class. Kawasaki UK insisted on a ‘deluxe’ specification, so cast alloy wheels, electric start, disc brakes front and rear, and a six-speed gearbox were part of the package. They also wanted the brakes to work properly in wet British weather, which was still a problem with stainless steel rotors in the rain. Changes in pad material eventually provided the answer, about ten years too late for some of the unlucky ones. Although the Scorpion proved to be slightly faster than the other 250 four-strokes and felt pleasantly nimble, it didn’t stand out from the opposition. By 1980 the Honda SuperDream was a firmly established feature at the top of the sales charts, soon to be joined by the new CB250RS single from the same stable. As an alternative, Suzuki fielded the GSX250ET, which used a more sophisticated engine than the Kawasaki —and a more reliable one, perhaps (close contest, though). The other problem was the price. At over £900, the Z250 was more expensive than either the Honda or the Suzuki. Kawasaki responded by releasing the bargain basement Z250B the following year. The engine was the same, but all the ancillaries were different. In fact, the B model had gone completely against the original idea for the bike. To bring the price down by £100, it had drum brakes front and rear, a 2—1 exhaust, spoked wheels and a very plain paint job. In 1981, with the new 125 learner limit on the horizon and 250s about to be left out in the cold, Kawasaki discovered that the engine could be enlarged after all, but only by 6mm in the bore. With a higher compression ratio and wilder cam timing, the result was a 306cc twin delivering 36bhp at 10,000rpm. Just to confuse matters, the bike it lived in was called the GPz305, which arrived in the UK in 1983. By this 103
Classic Japanese Motorcycle Guide
stage, the 250 Scorpion had been persuaded to give 33bhp, but the larger engine had enough torque to improve the performance greatly in the real world. There was more to it than that, though, because Kawasaki’s 1981 masterstroke of adding the ‘GP’ prefix to all their sporty bikes and painting them red worked wonders. A GPz250 would probably have sold, too, given the magic ingredient. Value for money was another key factor. While the Z250 had been comparatively expensive, the 305 was almost cheap at £1,249. To put things into perspective, Honda had just launched the VT250F V-twin, the fastest, most advanced four-stroke quarter-litre ever. Wonderful, but it cost $1,400, and the GPz’s extra 58cc easily compensated for its lack of high-tech. The VT250 disappeared from the UK within a few years, but the Kawasaki lived on here until 1997. Fourteen years is a long time in motorcycling.
Z400 and Z440 ‘Two years after amazing everyone with the Z1, in 1974 Kawasaki amazed no-one by unveiling the Z400, an all-purpose road bike with a twin-cylinder engine. In contrast to the soon-to-be-doomed two-stroke triples, the four-stroke 400 was Captain Sensible. ‘Kawasaki have made what must be one of the most drastic policy changes ever,’ opined Motorcycle Mechanics in a scoop test of one of the first to arrive in the UK. A 135mph 900 was all every well, but the reasoning behind the Z400 was that the top-selling motorcycle in America was the Honda CB360 twin, a machine
widely perceived in Britain as a cure for insomnia. Kawasaki therefore set out to make a better version of the same thing, and ended up with a bike that had many of the qualities of better British middleweights, while avoiding their less desirable characteristics ... mostly! Having decided on a twin, the vibration problem was dealt with by installing balance shafts, a very old brainwave originally credited to British engineer Dr Fred Lanchester. Yamaha had already tried this ruse on the TX750 and 500, which had both failed miserably to convince punters that the system was worthwhile, but it was assumed that Kawasaki would have learnt something from previous mistakes. Like an old Triumph or BSA, but unlike bigger Honda twins of the period, the ZA00 used a 360-degree crankshaft, which required two of these contrarotating ‘whirligigs’ for balance purposes. Primary drive was by inverted-tooth chain directly to the clutch and crossover five-speed gearbox. This meant that the engine turned backwards in relation to the wheels, potentially causing confusion when setting the ignition timing and valve clearances.
Everything else was unremarkable: duplex cradle frame, telescopic forks, rear swinging arm with twin shock absorbers, etc, etc. ‘The machine itself looks and feels completely ordinary,’ said Motorcycle Mechanics, adding that this wasn’t meant as a complaint. Indeed, the only aspect criticised was the handling, although other magazine test reports were more complimentary. Opposite top: Sounds like a Triumph, goes like a Triumph, but it’s Japanese so it won’t break down. Or will it?
Opposite bottom: Bore out the engine, fit a stepped seat, shorty mufflers and fat rear wheel, and voila, it’s the 440LTD.
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= eSLO
Classic Japanese Motorcycle Guide
The Z400 had plenty of competitors. Apart from the Honda CB360, from 1975 Honda offered the CB400/4, and the four-stroke ranks were later swelled by the Yamaha XS360/400, Suzuki GS400 and Honda CB400T Dream. Two-stroke fans could, of course, opt for the KH400, Suzuki GT380, or Yamaha RD400 instead. It was a tough
choice, but the Z400 appealed most to buyers who wanted a relaxed, economical tourer that sounded uncannily like an old Beesa or Triumph. Unfortunately, it emerged that Kawasaki hadn’t quite got the engine design right first time, and the Z400 had a habit of imitating British bike unreliability as well as sound. Various changes were made to the cylinder head and valve gear to reduce noise and oil leaks. In 1978 the B model gained a six-speed box. Moving into the 1980s, the Z400 became the Z440, actually 443cc, by increasing the bore from 64mm to 67.5mm. Another development was the LTD, a fat-tyred custom interpretation, distinguished by the option of belt drive from 1981 until 1984, at which point the simple sohc twin was replaced by a completely new dohc water-cooled design derived from the GPZ900 engine.
Z750 twin Thanks to the takeover of Meguro, Kawasaki could claim to be the first Japanese manufacturer to offer a large-capacity motorcycle. As featured elsewhere, the W1 twins were derived from the ancient BSA A7, a design that took shape on a Birmingham drawing board in 1947. Kawasaki’s engineers improved the engine, but not enough for the bike to be a roaring success in export markets. Instead, they decided to start afresh on a 750cc four-stroke four. That idea was scotched in 1968 when Honda had the temerity to release a similar machine. In 1970 they tried again, resulting in the Z1 of 1972. Background information on the gestation of the 7400 and Z750 twins, first seen in 1974 and 1975 respectively, is elusive, but it seems likely that they were next on the list after the Z1 was finalised. Sadly, Kawasaki apparently did a less thorough R&D job on both. The 400 certainly had a ready market waiting, but was let down by suspect reliability. Meanwhile, the 750 was dependable enough, although that hardly mattered because Brits who bought large-capacity vertical twins could still buy the real thing from Triumph (and Norton, if only for a further year or so). Kawasaki's little and large twins shared some common features, both having a pair of pistons moving up and down in unison, the consequent vibration being damped by a pair of chain-driven balance weights in the crankcases. Unlike the Z1, the crankshaft and big-end bearings were plain shells, and primary drive was via a hy-vo chain direct to the clutch. With one less change of direction in the transmission than normal, the engine had to turn ‘backwards’, which explained why the cam chain tensioner was at the front of the cylinder barrels. The 400 and 750 differed mainly in the cylinder head department: junior had a single cam, opening the valves by means of rocker arms, with tappet clearances adjusted by eccentric pivots. The Z750’s main (only?) claim to fame was to be the first big twin with dohc valve gear. As per the Z1, the cam lobes were directly in line with the valves, with removable shims controlling lash.
106
Kawasaki
Producing a claimed 55bhp at 7,000rpm and redlined at a modest 7,800rpm, there was probably little technical need for the engine to have a dohc head. Those big 78mm pistons were more likely responsible for setting the rev limit than valve float. In any case, the power was stacked low down, giving the Z750 the ability to pull like a proverbial in top gear from less than 30mph, just like big British twins. Ridden at up to about 75mph, the engine worked well, the balance shafts performing their intended function very effectively. Things only began to go wrong at higher revs, when vibration came thrumming up from below. By 6,000rpm it was getting uncomfortable. Just like a British twin without balancers, in fact! Ironically, the Norton Commando 850, then still in production, was far smoother at any speed over 60mph, thanks to its Isolastic engine mounts, a system that tackled vibration by absorbing it, rather than cancelling it Out at source. The Z750 flopped in the UK. Even a list price of £949 didn’t tempt customers, who still evidently preferred big twins made in Britain. Indeed, for a period in 1978/79, the Triumph Bonneville T140E was easily the most popular 750 in the UK, accounting for one in three sales. Kawasaki had virtually given up on the Z750 by then. At £1,349, it was still the cheapest in its class, undercutting the Bonneville by &50 and the multicylindered Suzuki GS750, Yamaha XS750 and Honda CB750K by a few hundred pounds, but no-one really cared. If the Z400 was like a modern Triumph Speed Twin, the Z750 could have been a modern Bonneville or Norton Commando. What went wrong?
Classic Japanese Motorcycle Guide
Yet, the big twin sold quite well in America, and it was almost inevitable that the bike would be given the custom treatment and appear in LTD guise, with the usual high handlebars, fat rear wheel and restricted fuel capacity. Just when we thought the Z750 was dead and buried, the custom model briefly came to Britain.
Fours Z400J If the Z500 was alleged to be off, what was the Z400J? Too In 1980, £1,149 was a lot for capacity breaking the £1,000
the bike that took over where the Honda CB400/4 left late and too expensive, is probably the simple answer. a 400 when the only other Japanese bike of the same barrier was the Honda CB400N. This would have been
OK, if the Z400J had delivered better performance, but it actually wasn’t as fast as the
Honda, which only had two cylinders and one camshaft, half as many as the Kawasaki on both counts. Again, the old 2650 was the root, this time scaled down to 52 x 47mm and 43bhp, fed through a six-speed gearbox, like the earlier Z500. The running gear was similar, too, except that it had a drum rear brake and the wheelbase was slightly shorter. Twin front discs were fitted. Bike reckoned this amounted to ‘over braking’, which was a novelty in those days. Road testers generally weren’t flabbergasted by the Z400J, although there wasn’t really anything wrong with it, apart from a tingle of high-frequency vibration and a lack of midrange torque. ‘Other than this it is hard to criticise,’ said Motorcycle Mechanics, ‘The only improvements they could make would be to make it cheaper or to get better fuel economy. As it stands, it is an unpretentious machine — a buyer would know pretty well what to expect from it and won’t be disappointed.’ The model lived on in the UK until 1988, but it certainly never emulated the old Honda 400 Four in sales figures. Buyers had very different expectations in the 1980s. Kawasaki probably only made the bike in the first place because the sub-400cc class is SO important in the Japanese market (which explains why Honda made a special short-stroke, 399cc, CB400/4 to sell in their homeland, the UK version being an inconvenient 408cc size).
Z500, Z550 and GPz550 Announced in 1978, the Z500 was directly related to the Z650. The plain-bearing four now had a hy-vo cam chain and a six-speed gearbox, and displaced 497 cc through downsized, 55 x 52.4mm, dimensions. In most other respects the whole bike was like the 650, only a bit smaller and lighter. Sitting on a 55in wheelbase and weighing about 430lb ready to ride, it was an inch or two shorter and weighed 60lb less than big bro. From the start, the 500 had three disc brakes and cast wheels. Styling was best described as ‘understated’, which is a kind way of saying fairly bland and unadventurous. Still, with 52bhp at 9,000rpm it went quite well, in a characteristically revvy Kawasaki way.
;
Bike’s reporter suggested that the Z500 would fill the gap left by the much-loved 108
_ Main picture: GPz550 in Uni-Trak guise. Red
_ wheel spokes identify it as the second update. _ Inset: Not all GPz550s were red! This is an A2, __ wearing yet another different set of wheels. is
Classic Japanese Motorcycle Guide
Honda CB400/4, but that didn’t happen. At £1,250 it was too expensive, for one thing. Part of the little Honda’s secret was a bargain basement price (less than £900 when replaced by the 400T Dream twin in 1978). Making due allowance for inflation, the 7500 really occupied a different sector of the market. If you’re paying £1,250, why not spend £400 more for a Z650, which wouldn't be too financially painful when spread over a three-year HP agreement?
A year later, the engine grew another 3mm in the bore to become the 2550 (that’s what it said on the side, although elsewhere it was KZ550, because Kawasaki seemed to have adopted the American model designation system). The standard roadster was joined by the LTD, with the expected fat 130/90-16 rear wheel, stepped seat, high handlebars, abbreviated mudguards and suspect handling. 1981 was the year that Kawasaki pulled their red rabbit out of the hat, by launching the GPz series of sports bikes. (Incidentally, the ‘z’ was supposed to be lower case in the early days, and only started to become ‘Z’ after 1983, when the GPZ9OOR arrived on the scene.) Three GPz models were unveiled, having been in development since 1978. At entry level, the target for the GPz550 was 120mph and a 13-second standing quarter mile. To boost power from 54bhp to 58bhp at 9,000rpm, the compression was raised to 10:1 and the cams changed to give 0.7mm more valve lift and 22 degrees longer duration. In real life, the tuned engine gave about 15 per cent more power than the ordinary four. Tested by the American magazine, Motorcyclist, the result was a 12.57-second/ 104mph standing quarter, which seemed incredible. Or completely unbelievable, bearing in mind the claimed horsepower and 200kg weight. British road tests achieved less spectacular results, as usual, but the GPz550 was still substantially faster than the Z550, and effectively offered the same performance as the original Z650. Nothing shattering had changed on the chassis front. The forks were now air-assisted, a good-in-theory, bad-in-practice idea, because the legs weren’t linked and the volume of air inside was so small that it was difficult to set the pressure at one side, let alone balance the two. ‘Infinite adjustability’, Kawasaki claimed. They weren't joking. Style was the GPz’s secret of success. Bright red paintwork, subtle graphics, black engine and exhausts, with polished alloy highlights on the wheel rims and cylinder head. Everyone seemed to like the new look, and it was instantly identifiable, which is a marketing dream. After only a year the model had a complete makeover, becoming the GPz550H1. Virtually everything had been changed, the most immediately noticeable features being Uni-Irak rear suspension and curvier side panels blended into the fuel tank. Oh, and the wheels were now red as well! Less obviously, a few more horsepower had been squeezed out of the engine, thanks to a set of 26mm CV carbs. In 1984 the 550 was updated again, with another restyle and power hike, but the era of water-cooled fours had by then been ushered in by the GPZ900R, and the following year the GPZ6OOR took over as Kawasaki’s middleweight champion. The 550 gained another offshoot in 1983, the GT, with shaft drive and a return to twin shock absorber rear suspension. Like the 750GT, which had already been 110
Kawasaki
around for two years, it was a supremely practical and useful bike. Adding the shaft drive meant a complete redesign of the crankcases and gearbox, but also allowed the engine to be rubber mounted. This eradicated the tingly vibration inherent in a straight four. There really was little to criticise about the Z5SOGT (more commonly referred to as the GT550 in later years, inviting confusion with the Suzuki two-stroke triple). It was smooth, comfortable, handled as well as the chain-drive model, easy to maintain and
reliable. What more could you ask? A cheap price? Does £1,749 sound reasonable? It should, because the basic Z550 was only £100 less. No surprise that the GT became one of the longest-running bikes on the market, continuing scarcely changed for twenty years.
Z650 After releasing the iconic Z1, Kawasaki went off track a bit with the Z400 and Z750 twins. The Z650 four, launched in 1976, proved that they hadn’t lost their touch, and reinvented what had once been an important capacity class. It would probably have already been downsized to Despite a superficial family good reasons why this may
been feasible to make a 650 engine out of the 900 (it had 750 to create the Japanese-market Z2). But they didn’t. likeness, the 650 Zed was all-new. There are a couple of have been so. The Z1 motor used a built-up crankshaft
Z650, launched in 1976, spearheaded a range of air-cooled, plain-bearing dohc fours that took Kawasaki into the next century. >
Wh
Classic Japanese Motorcycle Guide
Not in standard trim, but ‘KZ650’ on the side-panel shows this is a US-market bike.
with roller bearings, a bit like the bottom ends of the two-strokes that Kawasaki had been associated with in earlier days. Built-up cranks are expensive and tend to make a lot of noise, both being characteristics that persuade manufacturers to use one-piece
forgings running in plain bearings instead. In many ways the bottom half of the Z650 engine was like the Honda CB500’s, with an inverted-tooth chain primary drive leading to a crossover gearbox, alternator
and ignition on the ends of the crank. The two parted company design-wise at the point where the central cam chain went upstairs. Honda stuck with low-tech sohc fours right up until the new CB750KZ/900FZ series arrived in 1979, but the Z650’s lid included twin cams, just like the Z1. Also, like the King, the lobes prodded open the valves directly, the difference being in the position of the adjusting shims in relation to the buckets. On the larger engine they were on top, and could be fished out easily to set the clearances, while on the 650 they were underneath the bucket, which meant the cams had to come out to do the same job. In practice, the clearances rarely needed adjustment, the advantage being that it was impossible for shims to be spat 112
Kawasaki
Out, as Sometimes happened on over-stressed Z1s and their later incarnations.
Elsewhere the Z650 was like a scaled-down Z900. A steel double-cradle frame housed the engine, with conventional telescopic forks and swinging-arm suspension. Oddly, the main frame was probably stronger than the Z1/Z900’s, but the swinging arm looked weedier, even though that was already the weakest part of the Z1 chassis. Spoked wheels of the usual 19-inch front, 18-inch rear size carried a set of high-walled tyres of questionable ability to grip in the wet. A single disc looked after front braking (twin discs were an option), while the rear was an ordinary sls drum. Opinions were divided about the styling. The Z650 looked quite dainty and somehow less butch than its deadly rival, the new Suzuki GS750. Which it was, in fact,
being about four inches shorter and 30lb lighter. Kawasaki made cosmetic alterations in the early years, while keeping the engine virtually unchanged. The B2 of 1978 was a mild update, with fresh colour schemes and needle-roller swinging arm bearings instead of plastic bushes. It also had the first of many automatic cam chain tensioner designs.
The Z650C (C for Custom) was quite a bit different visually, immediately recognisable by cast alloy wheels, twin front discs and silver paint. It looked smart, but wasn’t any more functional than the original. The 1979 SR650 that followed was actually more of acustom bike than the Custom, and came with a 16-inch rear wheel, a trend started by Kawasaki on the 1975 900LTD. Also of note was a novel exhaust system with header pipes grouped to take advantage of internal shock waves. Although the 650 carried on until 1983, after 1980 it had effectively been supplanted by the Z750E (not to be confused with the 7750 twin, of course), which then spawned the GPz750 and GT750. Forgotten but not gone, the 650 engine was updated with later technology, including alloy wheels across the range, better brakes, electronic ignition, 32mm CV carbs instead of 24mm slides. In sympathy with the 750, the kickstarter lever was also deleted. While the 2650 looks like just another UJM (‘Universal Japanese Motorcycle’, a term coined by the American press) on paper, it had an urgent, revvy feel that set it apart from the rest. Despite a 100cc capacity disadvantage, it was about as fast as the contemporary Suzuki GS750. Depending on which road test you read, both did about 120mph and clocked standing quarters in around 13 seconds. But then so did the Honda CB750 Four when it went on sale, seven years earlier, some said, and they were probably right.
Z750E, GPz750, GT750 and ZX750 Turbo Japanese manufacturers tended to make different models for different markets. The Z750E was Kawasaki’s first ‘world motorcycle’. In essence it was yet another variation on the Z650 theme, but in adding another 4mm to the bore, something strange had happened: the 750 was exceedingly fast. With 79bhp at 9,500rpm quoted, a useful 15bhp extra, the bike clocked better road test figures than expected. For instance, Bike magazine managed a standing quarter in 12 seconds dead and reckoned it could have been even faster in better conditions. That made it about as quick as the current Z1000 and not far off the pace set by the 71300 six. 113
Classic Japanese Motorcycle Guide
The most obvious external modification was a new set of 33mm Keihin CV carbs instead of 24mm Mikunis. Inside, the cam chain was now an inverted-tooth type for silent running ... or not. In practice, Kawasakis were plagued with cam chain tensioner problems for years after. Luckily, engines just rattled in most cases, and didn’t fall apart like Hondas. Not much had changed on the chassis side, although the brake discs were drilled,
bolted directly to the cast wheels, and gripped by sintered metal pads, all in the interests of being able to stop when it rained. This was partly effective, but Kawasaki deserved praise for tackling a problem ignored by others for as long as possible. Rear suspension with adjustable damping and air-assisted forks completed the package. Proof that we were trusting electricity more was seen in the omission of the kickstart lever. Those who worried about flat batteries could be comforted that all was well by referring to a handy voltmeter in the instrument panel. Some misgivings were voiced about excessive vibration and the less-than-inspired styling, but Bike liked the Z750E: *... a jet quick proddy racer, a long-legged tourer and even a relatively nimble commuter. If a bike was capable of fulfilling two of the three roles, it'd be good. The Z750E does ’em all.’ Not bad for £1,729. And if the styling was thought a bit too plain, Kawasaki also offered the Z750H
Curvaceous styling and Uni-Trak rear suspension: a GPz750 in A3 trim, with
cunningly disguised fairing lowers.
114
GT750 shaft, a stalwart Kawasaki. The more it changed, the more it remained the same, for 15 years.
custom (aka 750LTD), with the usual problems of wobbly handling and backache. The GPz era began in 1982, a year after the 550 and 1100. The first 750 version looked so like the 550 that it was sometimes necessary to read the side panels to tell one from the other. Less tuning work had been done to the bigger engine, reflected in a power figure of 80bhp at 9,500rpm — only one horse up on the first 750E’s effort, in fact. Confusingly, though, the standard bike was now renamed the 750L and gave only 74bhp at 9,000rpm. Even more confusingly, most road test figures for the GPz were inferior to those achieved by the first E model! B7ke’s victim was half a second slower over the standing quarter. To put it another way, depending on who you believed, the GPz550 was only a whisker slower, despite having 22bhp less according to Kawasaki. It was all a bit baffling, and might have explained why the 750 was less of an instant sales success than the 550. Why pay £400 more, plus extra insurance and running costs, for the same amount of speed? Strange but true, Kawasaki’s fastest 750 for the moment was probably the GT tourer that arrived in the same year, even though it weighed over 500Ib and came 115
Classic Japanese Motorcycle Guide
with shaft drive. It is reasonable to assume that a chain transmits power to the rear wheel more efficiently than a shaft with two sets of bevel gears, but somehow it didn’t
work out like that. The GT750’s engine was effectively in GPz tune, except that it had more restrictive air intake plumbing, which resulted in a claimed 78bhp at 9,500rpm. Whatever the figures, this ‘boring tourer’ whistled up 130mph and was just as fast on acceleration, to boot.
There were few complaints about the handling or gearbox, both of which traditionally suffer with shaft drive. GT750s had air-assisted suspension at both ends, which could be useful to cope with the extra load of a passenger and luggage. Unfortunately, while the leading axle forks had extra travel, they were still lumbered with the same daft unlinked legs, making it difficult or impossible to get balanced pressures between sides. As the specified range was tiny, the advantages of the system were more than offset by the disadvantages. On a brighter note, the suspension was protected from the elements by rubber boots, so the fork legs and dampers at least had a decent life expectancy. And so did the engine — as legions of despatch riders demonstrated over the succeeding years. Give or take the occasional rattling cam chain and rotten exhaust, the 738cc four could give good service for a couple of hundred thousand miles. The GT750 didn’t stay on the market for as long as the GT550, but 15 years is a pretty good record. Both the 550 and 750 GPz were soon threatened by new arrivals from the Japanese opposition. Rather than replace the straight fours with something completely new, Kawasaki concentrated on developing the existing range. Perhaps doing what they should have done in the first place, the 750’s engine was boosted to 86bhp at 9,000rpm by extending the valve opening period. To make sure it stayed in one piece, the pistons were modified to withstand heat better, and the ignition had electronic advance. Keeping to the trademark predominantly red and black look, the fuel tank, side panels and fairing were restyled to become an integrated, flowing whole. Under the skin, the frame was made of larger diameter tube and now came with a Uni-Trak rear end, Kawasaki’s interpretation of the monoshock idea first used by Yamaha’s racing bikes in the early 1970s. The swinging arm itself was a long box-section aluminium number, with chain adjustment by eccentric cams. At the front, the air-assisted fork legs were finally linked, so adjustment could be relatively painless. The sliders had also sprouted the latest fashion accessory, in the form of anti-dive, in this case working in response to pressure in the brake lines. Arguments raged about the value of these devices, but their true worth can be judged by how quickly they all disappeared. Honda’s mechanical version known as TRAC was probably the best of the lot, because at least it didn’t affect the brakes. Despite all the changes, the funny thing was that the GPz750A1, to use the full title, was hardly any faster than previous 750 Kawasakis! On the plus side, the handling was better and the larger upper fairing made it more comfortable at high speed. Less happily, the stretched out riding position made it more uncomfortable at every other speed, not helped by harsh suspension. The smaller dohc engine’s ultimate incarnation appeared in 1983. Following a 116
Kawasaki
trend that began in the car world, turbochargers started to appear on two-wheelers. Kawasaki had actually blazed the trail by giving their blessing to a limited run of Z1 turbos sold in America some seven years earlier, and various aftermarket bolt-ons had been available, but the Honda CX500T was the first official UK market model. Suzuki and Yamaha’s 650 fours followed, leaving Kawasaki’s 750 Turbo as the last to arrive. It was also generally agreed to be the best, and the only one that seemed to offer anything more than a bike with a normally aspirated engine. Development began in 1980, using a Z650 as a base. Prototypes were running the following year, producing 100bhp, but unsatisfactory pulling power at low revs. Part of
the problem was due to the fact that the turbochargers then available were too large. This was solved when Hitachi came up with a miniaturised version ideal for smallcapacity engines. In its production form, the bike used a low-compression 750 engine, with a 650 cylinder head and less extreme camshafts. The claimed output was 112bhp at 9,000rpm, but that was only half the story. It is easy to make a turbocharged engine produce lots of power at high revs with the throttle wide open. The hard bit is making it go properly in more normal circumstances. Hitachi’s mini turbo helped, as did siting it as close to the exhaust ports as possible (something that Suzuki and Yamaha were apparently unable to realise). Then there was fuel injection, a more sophisticated version of the system seen on the GPz1100. The bottom line was that although the engine still suffered from the dreaded turbo ‘lag’ to some extent, it really wasn’t a problem in everyday use.
In basic form the frame
=a
was as per the ordinary GPz750, but made with
larger diameter tube and with a stronger headstock. The wheels were also lighter, while the brakes came from the 1100. To differentiate the ZX750 from the standard bike,
it was fitted with a full fairing, which had welcome benefit of covering up a jumble of turbo plumbing in front of the engine.
Fan-assisted 750 was one of the most exciting bikes on the road in 1983 - and still is now.
Wy
Classic Japanese Motorcycle Guide
No-one who has ever ridden a ZX750 Turbo has been unimpressed! It could show 150mph on the speedometer in places where its contemporaries struggled to do 120mph. A row of liquid crystal blobs on the instrument panel showed when the turbo boost had built up, then, whoooooossh, it lunged forward with ever increasing speed. The faster it went, the faster it went. Apart from being hugely powerful, the engine was also very refined. Supercharging (turbocharging is a type of supercharging, using exhaust gases to spin a turbine, driving a compressor. The term ‘supercharging’ generally refers to a system in
which the compressor is driven mechanically by the engine) actually swells the period of peak pressure inside the cylinder, which has the effect of reducing harshness and stress. It was a great pity that Kawasaki dropped the 750 Turbo after barely four years.
Z1, Z900, Z1000 and GPz1100 After failing to convince buyers that the W1 BSA-style 650 twin was what they wanted, Kawasaki decided to build a bike with a four-cylinder, four-stroke engine of 750cc capacity. Secretly developed in the USA, a prototype was completed in October 1968. Unfortunately, this was almost exactly the moment when Honda unveiled the CB750, which was similar, yet ready for production. Kawasaki realised there was no point in proceeding, shelved the project, and concentrated efforts on their 500 two-stroke triples instead. Two years later, market research indicated that there was a need for a highperformance motorcycle that would conform to future anti-pollution legislation (translation: they saw that Honda was selling hundreds of thousands of CB750s, and knew that smoky Green Meanies wouldn’t have a hope of surviving when the Environmental Protection Agency really started getting serious.) To trump Honda, Kawasaki needed more power, which suggested an engine of around 1,000cc. Thus began the ‘New York Steak’ project, the name being an allusion to something that would be mouth-watering to Americans, the target customers. Prototypes were on the road by 1971 (disguised as CB750s, it is said!), and it seems the basic design, the work of Gyoicha ‘Ben’ Inamura, was almost right first time. Production started the following year, after extensive road-testing. The Honda CB750 and Kawasaki Z1, or ‘Super 4’, as it was nearly called, were similar in using transverse four-cylinder power units installed in double-cradle frames but the details were rather different. Honda’s long-stroke, 736cc plain-bearing engine used a pair of roller chains for primary drive, and had a single overhead camshaft running in separate carriers bolted to the top of the cylinder head. The valves were opened by rocker arms, with tappets adjustable by screws. Lubrication was a drysump, oil being carried in a tank under the side panel. Kawasaki’s 903cc four stored its oil in the sump, for a start. It also used a builtup roller bearing crankshaft, with gear primary drive, so had something in common here with the company’s two-strokes. A central roller chain drove a pair of camshafts, effectively running in the cylinder head (in replaceable split shell bearings), opening the valves directly through bucket tappets, with clearances adjustable by shims. Honda’s 1967 CB450 twin had been the first generally available dohc bike engine, 118
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Kawasaki
but let’s not forget that such things had been common in the car world for decades. Most famously, Jaguars produced since 1948 had used twin cam XK engines, and the Z1’s top end was actually quite similar in layout, once air cooling is taken out of the equation. Breathing through a quartet of 28mm carburettors, Kawasaki claimed 82PS at 8,500rpm — which is a bit less than the 82bhp often quoted, incidentally (1PS (Pferde Starke) is the metric version of horsepower, equivalent to 0.9863bhp!). Whether you want to split hairs or not, this was about 15bhp more than the CB750, but a similar
specific output. The scaled-down 746cc Z2 produced for the Japanese market gave O9PS, possibly because it would have been unthinkable not to beat the CB750’s quoted 67PS. The Z1 went on sale in the USA. In late 1972 the Europeans got their first glimpse at the Cologne show, in a huge splash of publicity. There was no direct connection, but while all this was happening, the British motorcycle industry was plunging into a deepening crisis. Kawasaki was celebrating, but BSA, only two decades earlier ‘the World’s Most Popular Motorcycle’ was about to disappear. The end of one era and the beginning of another. UK Z1 imports began in 1973, just in time for another sort of crisis, when oil supplies were threatened by the situation in the Middle East. Perhaps not the best time to launch the fastest motorcycle ever? A total sale for the year of 44 bikes tends to confirm that there weren’t too many Brits prepared to spend over &1,000 on something with only two wheels. Still, the figure would have been much higher if it had been easier to find a Z1 to buy. Kawasaki made about 80,000 dohc fours in the first two years, but all the 750s were staying in Japan, while the 900s seemed to be going everywhere but here. This also explains why there aren’t many road tests in British magazines. UK importer, but not for much longer, Agrati, was unable to supply a Z1 for press purposes, so Bike had to use one from a dealer, as usual, comparing it with a Honda CB750K3. To say they liked the Kawasaki is putting it mildly. The only word of criticism is directed at the gearbox, which didn’t let the pilot know when he was at the top or bottom of the range by having free travel in the lever, as on Hondas. And that was it. Everything else was fantastic: ‘Looks? This is the Gina Lollobrigida of the bike world. Handling? You’ll be hanging right inside even the nimblest of 350s on any corner. Acceleration? The right-hand twist grip’s connected to your own adrenal glands. Top speed? Enough to leave that siren fading into the distance.’ Although the reference to Gina Lollobrigida proves that the past is a foreign country, it’s safe to say they liked the Z1! In view of the bike’s later reputation, the comments about the handling are particularly interesting. After the evil antics of the triples, memorably called the ‘fastest camel in the world’ by the same magazine, they were expecting trouble. But somehow it wasn’t like that: ‘The handling was perhaps the most impressive thing about the big machine, so much so that anyone who owns one might be well advised to take out the centre stand. It is just too easy to ground it.’ The writer was a regular racer, so we have to take this seriously. He backs up his opinion with info on Kawasaki’s development 121
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Z900LTD was put together in America, using o
:
130
TS100 130
TS125 92, 130; TS125A 133; 1S125@ 1332154 TS125X 134
TS250 Savage 130, 133; TS250A 133; TS250M
133
138-139
TS400 134
GT380 106, 136,
141-142, 144, 146, 152,
WAM
172-173
XN85 158-159, 198
157; GS1000HC 155; GS1000S (Wes Cooley
GT500 140; GTSO0A 140
replica, USA) 157
GT750 141-142, 144-148;
GS1100 154; GS1100G
GT750A 146; GT750B
157 GSX2Z50E 152;
Stingray 45 TM250
135
GS750 6, 107, 113, 144, 146-147, 154-159, 192 156-157 GS1000 89, 154-157,
0:
TCI20 130716200
GT185 135, 146, 166 GT200X5
TB 29; 250TB 30-31 VEMSZOMUCIOMS
228-229
GS700 157
GS850 154: GS850G
GT550 140-142, 144
145-147; GT750J 145
Triumph 23-24, 31, 38, 104, 106, 152
Bonneville 107, 184,
186, 191, 193; 650 48;
K15 Hill Billy 130
T140E 107
GSX250ET 103; GSX250EZ GSX400 152; GSX400ET 153
PE250 134
139, 176,
Daytona 500 45 Speed Twin 31, 107 Tiger Cub 101
GSX7/50 157,159:
RG500 Gamma
176, 213,
Trident 77-78, 186, 193 650 37, 48, 92
215 3GSX750E 159: GSX750ES 158, 160; GSX-R750 209, 215-216, 218-220
RE-5/RX-5 147-149 RG250 Gamma
21542272228 215, 219-220
RGV250 227-228; RGV2508S 228
532531
Van Veen 148 OCR1000 148 VeloceiteZalua)
GSX1000S 160; GSX1000SZ 161
SP370 149-150
GSX1100 127,
T10 42
Vespa 24
T20 42
Villiers 31, 98
1125 Stinger 45, 134
Vincent 174, 191
159-161, 209; GS1100E (EFE) 238
140, 181; MkII 45
215-217, 220
SP400 149-150
Venom
177
LE 26, 184-185
Index
Yamaha 21, 42, 48, 50,
RD350R 176
RD400 67, 106, 169,
116, 162-201, 208
XS850 192, 195 XS1100 89, 154, 191,
173, 180; RD400C
194, 196, 199-201,
CS5 166; CSSE 166, 168
172; RD400E 169, 173;
DS exoOO Se 0
CUU2S QW
RD4OOF
CS3 166
CT2 175 164
XT500 58, 149-150,
173
RD500 214, 218-220;
DT1 50-51, 164 DT50 206
RDS5OOLC 176, 214,
177-179; XT500C 177-178; XT500D
178
XT550 177-178
DNGE2 NG,
DT100 164
RS100 162-163
XT600 177-178
DT125 164-166;
RS125 162-163
XV550 224 XV750 Virago 190-192
DIAZ25UC 1354, 1:66,
RXS100 163
168
RZ 148
DT175
164-165;
DT175MX
XV920 190-191
SR500 177-179, 190
164-166
TD2 49
DT250
164-165
TR1 190-192, 231
DT400
164-165
TT500 178
FJ1100 201 FJ1200 233
TX500 (XS500B) 104, 140, 180-182, 191
FS1 202; FS1-DX 206; FS1-E (FS1E) 162, 202-206
FZ750 209, 220-221
FZ1000 Genesis 209 FZR1000 220, 230
167, 218: OW S35 175
Riw233
166, 166,
168; RD125DX
167
RD200 166-168; RD200DX
168
RD250 168-169, 171-172,
174 RD 250
1695 175;
RD2Z50LG139%173-175 RD350 169, 172, 174; RD350F 176; RD350FIL 176;
XZ5505 185 YA-1 19, 21, 162-163
YA-5 51 YAS1 (AS1) 51, 166-167
YAS3 (AS3) 166 YB100 51, 162-163 SACI 2
YESS167,
V-Max 221-223
YD1 20-21
XI550 195, 197
XJ650 180, 195; XJ650
MIDA BW:
YDS-1 22, 30, 50 YDS3 50
XJ750' Seca 180; 1952199
MF1 21, 30
RD125°135,
TZR250 176
Turbo 198
GTS 1000 230-233 OW
TX750 104, 181-184
XZ550 180, 184-185;
YDS4 50
XJ900 199; XJ9OOF 199
YDS5 50
XS1 182, 186-187
YDS6 50
XS2 182, 186-187
YDS7 51,166, 169
XS250 179-180 XS360 103, 106, 179-180
YGUS
XS400 103, 106, 179-180
Nabil Sih, Ike:
XS500 180, 191; XSSOOB
YR1 50
182; XSSOOC
181-182
XS650 182, 184, 186, 193; XS650B 186-188; XS650 Special 187 XS 7501070 17s, 192,
1162
YG80 162
YR2 50
YRS 505169 YRS 5169 YZ; 16 YZR500 197
RD350LGA73, 227;
194, 199, 201; XS750E
Townmate 162
223; RD350LCII YPVS
157, 193-194;
350 Power Valve 212,
175; RD350N 176;
XS7502D 193
DANES Saag
239
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SAMA Chicago
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WLC 4™ FLOOR
Public
Library
RO413624 Classic
Japanese
Lil q
motorcycle
guide
Ri:
_ This is a fascinating guide to
Japanese bikes from the 1960s to the early 1990s, concentrating on
mainstream, affordable models from the ‘big four’: Honda, Kawasaki, Suzuki and Yamaha. Motorcycle journalist and enthusiast Rod Ker provides a brief history of
the Japanese motorcycle industry, charting its post-war rise and displacement of traditional British, European and American marques. Specific chapters on each of the big four manufacturers give a detailed model history in which the bikes are grouped and discussed in detail. Further chapters cover ‘sixteener’ sports mopeds, the ‘new era’ bikes from 1984 onwards and classics of the future.
With more than 200 colour photographs, many taken when the bikes were new, this book is an essential reference for buyers and enthusiasts alike.
UPC CODE
99414
|
||
0
Cover illustrations
eee
aoe CEAde
ISBN 978 1844253357
Back, from top: Kawasaki Z1, Suzuki GSX1100E, Yamaha X$650
£19.99 RRP ye
9
"781844"253357
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