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The car came out of the side turning at about 50mph, planning to scream across the main road. I went for the front brake lever in total panic mode. The brake was old and a bit wimpy, the bike heavy; the resulting retardation insufficient. The front wheel went into the side of the car, which then, as it was still moving - seemed to be accelerating - flipped the whole caboodle sideways. There was enough noise to indicate World War 3 had broken out. Newport's citizens began to scream at the sight of rider and machine, on divergent destruction courses, grinding down the road and flying through the air.
Air brakes screeched. I looked up, after a spine breaking tarmac landing, to find my head positioned exactly under the front wheel of a bus! Without giving the ped's a chance to administer first aid, I leapt to my feet, wondering where the f..k the Kawasaki had got to! First things first. The poor old Z was hidden under the front wheels of a red Audi, whose driver staggered out and threw up. He was in tears, which was quite understandable as he'd damaged a valuable classic. The car that caused the accident had disappeared - luckily, there were enough ped's who'd seen what had gone down for me to avoid taking the blame for damaging three cars!
I was told I'd flipped off, kangaroo-hopped over the bonnet of another car before doing a summersault that landed me on my back in front of the bus. I could've been killed several different ways! I somehow escaped without serious injury. When the car was lifted off the Z1000 it wasn't as bad as I feared. The front wheel was buckled slightly, lots of dents in the chassis but nothing bent out of line. I breathed a sigh of relief because I had a seized Z in the garage with all the cycle parts I'd need. One of the advantages of being a heavyweight is that it can take the odd tarmac bashing - modern alloy framed bikes tend to be written off in the mildest of shunts - of course, their fearsome brakes and lack of weight means they can often avoid crashes that the Z just had to knock its way through!
That wasn't my first accident! On another occasion I went into a bend too fast, tried to heel the Z right off the edge of its tyres. Instead something dug into the tarmac, flipped us up and sent the bugger charging across the road, through a hedge into a field full of startled sheep. When the front wheel hit the mud, the bike dug in sharply, threw me over bars in such a way that my marital tackle was slashed by the handlebar end. I didn't notice the head to toe covering of mud until the pain diminished after about fifteen minutes! The Z had a similar soft landing, emerged covered in mud.
The reason I hadn't slammed the throttle shut was that it caused the swinging arm to wag about in its minimal mounts, which often translated into a lock to lock handlebar wobble. Not a good idea when you're leant over on the edge of the narrow tyres. Though the Z1000 inherited the Z1's reputation for wild handling, the strange thing was that if you just swung a leg over it for a quick trip around the block, the impression given would be of a solid old thing, nicely secure on the road. Must be all that mass!
The most frightening moment came at 130mph. A nice smooth and empty motorway, early on a summer morning, the motor screaming with the revs and thrumming away like a good 'un. The wind blast was doing my arms and neck in, about to back off a touch, the bastard turned the mild rear wheel weave into a massive speed wobble. The bike wobbled over two lanes of motorway for half a minute, poor old I thinking I was going to meet my maker. The chassis felt like it was made out of plastic and the motor was about to fall out of the frame. As suddenly as it came it went away again. After that, I didn't go over 80mph for a month.
Acceleration was still heady, the bike burning off the 600 replicas up to about 80mph, without too much effort on the throttle or gearbox. The latter had gone all loose and temperamental, with a lot sloshing from the short-lived rear chain (about 4000 miles!). The clutch was surprisingly heavy and a bit abrupt when the motor hadn't warmed up properly. The first engagement of the day required the front brake lever pulled right back to stop it stalling, due to clutch drag. Forget that, it'd jump about a yard and then die a death!
Any hard use of the throttle resulted in a bit of a fight with the bars. On a good day it was just a matter of forcing them in the required direction, on a bad day they twitched and wobbled all over the shop above 80mph. There was never any need to check the tyres' tread, as soon as they came close to 2mm the handling went really dire, with lurid slides and wobbles even in the dry - don't even think about riding in the wet on worn out tyres.
Despite all this hassle it was a bike I enjoyed riding. Mad? Well, it was kind of fun not knowing exactly how it'd react to conditions and a test of nerve and courage forcing it to go where I wanted. My mates got their kicks trying to break through 150mph, which broke most of their licenses! Whereas I could burble along at much more moderate velocities having the time of my life fighting the Z into submission.
Neither was the motor ever boring. For sure, it was as tough as they came and didn't need much maintenance. But it had a distinct power band, an excess of low end torque and was always a little alive, vibrating and even thrumming away like it was a hard job to get the power out of the eight valve, DOHC, air-cooled mill. Sometimes, though, it seemed sublimely sweet, as if responding to my excessive love of the brute!
Running costs were a mixed bag. Fuel's good at over 50mpg - you can't really thrash them into the red all the time. Maintenance costs are negligible, just oil changes for the most part. Pads, tyres and drive chains are the major expense. Though the front disc works poorly it still cuts through the pads in less than 5000 miles. Just an inefficient piece of junk, but it works just as well in the wet and the calipers ignore winter salt. Go figure. Finish is better than most modern bikes, with only the expected and easily removed alloy rot.
Modern bikes are better in all kinds of ways but I paid £1200 for this one and £300 for the spare bike. Less than the depreciation in the first year of any reasonably sized new motorcycle. Also, the value's likely to increase as they become recognized as modern classics. Never boring, often fun and about the toughest engine in the business - what more could you want? Handling, lightness...no, no, get real!
H.F.
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At 58 I am what is perhaps known as a mature rider. My 1978 Kawasaki Z1000 is certainly now a mature motorcycle. I bought the bike as a nearly new bargain, the owner deciding he couldn't cope with the power. This was 14 years ago, when I still considered myself in my prime. I scoffed at his fear, but 80 horses and 550lbs of mass was a dangerous combination back then. I have averaged about 18000 miles a year, so total mileage has added up to just over a quarter of a million! Somewhere along the line I got to grips with the beast.
Back in 1978 the Japanese had mastered the science of making reliable four cylinder engines, but not the art of making a decent chassis. Kawasaki learnt their techniques on such unlikely animals as the H1 triple, taking a while to get to grips with such complex subjects as high speed stability. The Z1000 came to me in completely stock set-up, including lethal Japanese tyres and high, wide handlebars.
The first day was enough to convince me that a radical shake up was required. A set of Avons, some flat bars and rear-sets soon transformed the feel of the machine. By today's standards the riding position is almost laid back, but for the day it would have been considered very sporty. With more weight over the front wheel from this riding position, and the rider crouched lower, stability improved dramatically. The tyres actually managed to grip the road when the machine was leant over.
The bike was fine up to about 80mph. After that lots of weaves and wobbles appeared. They became worse the more the throttle was abused. Also, the repositioned footrests meant that the first thing to touch down was the centrestand prong, which tried to lever the machine off the road. Incredibly frightening! The centrestand was all but useless as I found it impossible to lever the machine on to it without wrecking my back. It was junked quite quickly. I had an hydraulic jack ready for tyre changes and chain adjustment.
The one time I had a puncture in the back wheel, the AA man was not too amused at the antics involved to remove the wheel. I had a spare inner-tube but no way I could fit it on my own. We ended up with the bike perched precariously on its side after removing the back wheel spindle. It really was a heavy beast to lever back upright. The AA man reckoned the next time he came across a similar case he would call for the recovery vehicle to take the machine home.
The bike was incredibly heavy to ram through the corners and also liked to be set up way in advance.....touching the front brake when banked over was likely to throw you off and the back end twisted when the throttle was backed off. The narrow bars I'd fitted made it a heavy beast in traffic, I often ended up sitting in traffic jams rather than hustling through narrow gaps. As top speed was only 130mph and far too unsafe to maintain for more than a few moments, I initially thought I'd ended up with the worst of all worlds.
The engine impressed with bags of torque, lack of oil leaks and a feeling of being bulletproof. The DOHC unit was derived from the earlier 900 Z1, which had soon made a reputation for itself as being extremely tough. 80 horses is chicken feed, these days, but there is a lot to be said for the pleasant way the Z puts down its power. When I'd sorted the handling I felt quite safe riding hard in the wet, which is more than can be said for some of the high powered, lightweight machines of today.
Not wanting to lose face by trading down, I persisted with the beast for the next two years in its stock state. Sudden poverty meant I could not improve its suspension, which to be fair never became any worse over those years - it was too naff to begin with. I could get as much as 55mpg if I rode the colossus gently but throttle craziness soon reduced that to a mere 35mpg. The average has worked out somewhere in the 40 to 50mpg range, although I did once manage 31mpg. That was a really fast, flat out motorway bash with the Z1000 leaping about all over the place. My arm muscles were wrecked after a couple of hours of that kind of insanity.
Vibration has always been apparent as there are no balance shafts in the engine and little by way of rubber insulation in the chassis. It doesn't cause any damage to the bike, but can reduce feeling in hands and feet after a couple of hours at high speed. 70 to 90mph cruising is okay for as long as the fuels holds out, although 60mph in fifth can be almost as rough as a 100mph. I can't say it has got any worse over the years, but that's probably me just getting used to the Kawasaki.
The engine whirred away reliably for nearly 40,000 miles during the first couple of years. It needed the odd shim job on the valves, a couple of carb balances, a few adjustments to the twin contact breakers and the usual regular oil changes. Unlike its smaller brothers, the Z1000 has a hefty roller bearing crankshaft and gear primary drive, neither of which were to give any trouble over the whole period of ownership.
By the third year my finances had improved, so I set about upgrading the suspension. First priority was a set of taper roller bearings in the steering head. The old bearings were pitted and difficult to set up so there was no slop. These new bearings had a remarkable effect on the stability, pushing the weaves and wobbles up to about 95mph. As far as value for money went, they were most effective improvement I made to the machine. These bearings have a life of about 35000 miles.
Encouraged, I put a set of needle rollers into the swinging arm bearings, the old ones having developed a dangerous amount of slop. It helped tighten the back end up, lessening the amount of twittering when rolling off the throttle. Life of these bearings was never more than 25000 miles, more usually around 20,000 miles. With just these two changes I found it possible to cruise along the motorway all day long at 90mph, with brief bursts up to 120mph. The Z1000 was still potentially dangerous, though, certain combinations of speed and bumps causing it to twitch dangerously.
In this form I did a couple of long tours on the bike. As I had fixed the riding position to suit me to perfection, I was quite happy doing 400 to 500 miles in a day. Even if the seat was far from perfect, the clutch would start to drag badly and the vibes sent my feet dead. Without a fairing, wind blast above 90mph was rather tiring but when I was on an empty motorway I could not resist opening up the throttle. On a very long road it was possible to put 135-140mph on the speedo. The aforementioned handling deficiencies and huge pain in my neck muscles meant I could only hold on to such speed for a few minutes. Still, it was a pretty exhilarating experience and gave me fresh energy to see me through the rest of the day.
The front suspension was next on the list. Stiffer springs and thicker oil didn't make that much difference to high speed stability but gave the machine a much more taut feel. A set of Koni shocks had more effect, allowing the machine to hit the ton without so much as a mild weave. The bike was still heavy and ponderous, becoming brutally twisted up at really high speeds. The forks are still there, gaiters have ensured that the chrome has not pitted. The shocks last about 30,000 miles before they go off tune.
By about 50,000 miles some major expense was involved. The back wheel had started breaking up, so I had that and the front wheel refurbished with HD spokes and alloy rims. The wheel bearings were showing signs of wear, so a new set was bunged in - life of the wheel bearings has varied between 50,000 and 72000 miles. Also, the four into two exhaust had become rather loud, with cracks appearing in the silencers. I had a mate with a tube bender, so we made up some 4 into 1 downpipes out of stainless steel and put a universal mega on the end of it.
We found it impossible to set up the carbs to suit this device, so handed the machine into a dealer for jetting alterations. The result was that the Z needed ten minutes to warm up but made more power right through the rev range. It was also a lot noisier and makes a lovely bellow with 140mph on the clock. The lighter wheels and exhaust saved 35 to 40lb. I started looking for other ways to save mass, getting so into it that I started drilling holes through bolts and screws to lighten them.
As the seat was seeping up water I took that as a sign to make a new one with a GRP base and some heavier foam that would not flatten after a mere 80 miles of riding. Plastic guards, cleaning up the back end, dumping the indicators and throwing away the grabrail were other minor ways of removing some mass. When I took the machine to the local weighbridge I was surprised to find that all my efforts had reduced the mass to 480lbs (with about two gallons of fuel on board). The Z has a massive frame that doesn't bend in minor collisions, so even more could be saved if this was replaced with a more modern lightweight structure, although I rather like the reassurance of having a bike that can take the odd meeting with the tarmac.
All my crashes have been at low speed when the mass has got the better of me or when I couldn't get out of the way of some clown in a car fast enough. Nothing more than a few bend ancilliaries were the result and a few bruised bones. Not bad going for the kind of mileage I've done.
I'm still not sure about the brakes. When I first had the machine these triple discs were exemplary in the dry and just about passable in the wet. Pads lasted a reasonable 12000 to 16000 miles and the calipers didn't give any trouble for the first 35000 miles. Then they started seizing up something chronic, needing attention every 5000 miles. After 55,000 miles they were replaced with a new set, which lasted 60,000 miles. I'm on my fifth set now! The discs are still usable. Modern pad compounds improve wet weather feel at the expense of reduced life (8000 to 11000 miles) and some almost unbearable screeching noises.
One thing I hate about discs is the way the pads drag on at low speeds. Pushing the Z backwards is a real trial of mind over matter. I once had to push the beast two miles when I ran out of petrol, having left the petrol tap in the reserve position. I almost collapsed from the pain of it when the petrol station finally came into sight. I had to sit by the roadside for half an hour just to recover and I had pains in odd places for days afterwards. I must be getting old!
Of late, the front forks have started juddering, despite having several new sets of seals and one complete refurbishment. It makes the handling rather hairy once past 85mph, with lots of twitching and wallowing. Jamming on the front brake makes it feel like the forks are about to pop off. I am seriously thinking about fitting a whole front end off something rather more modern, although the large size of the Z's front wheel makes this difficult.
I've tried various tyres on the beast. They all have one thing in common, if you try to ride with less than 2mm of tread the handling becomes very vicious. I rather like Michelins on the beast, they are cheap, last over 8000 miles and feel safe even in the wet. Avons take second place with slightly poorer wear. A set of Metz's lasted only 3500 miles - totally unacceptable. The Z demands a decent O-ring chain and sprockets every 15000 miles. Running on a worn out chain wrecks what's left of the gearchange, which was never exactly smooth even from new. I've adapted to it as the years have gone by.
The only part of the gearbox that has needed attention has been the clutch. New plates at 78000 miles, a whole new clutch unit at 157000 miles and another set of plates at 211000 miles. Even when new there's always been a bit of drag, when it's well worn it becomes very difficult to hold the beast steady at the lights when in first gear. Neutral is all but impossible to find and it has lately started slipping out of second and third gear.
The top end of the engine is tough but not so tough that it has survived 250,000 miles without attention. Bores and pistons have lasted 75000 to 92000 miles, camchain and tensioner have been replaced three times and valve seals and guides go every 60,000 miles or so. The valves are still original but have been reground once. Points are okay for about 30,000 miles then have to be bodged for the next 10 to 15000 miles. I should have fitted electronic ignition but never got around to it - I quite enjoy mucking about with things that I can understand.
The ignition coils have burnt out twice, the first time causing erratic starting and poor running until they went completely. Most annoying to be rumbling along nicely, only to find you're suddenly riding along on a most constipated twin or triple. I had a merry time trying to find another cause of poor starting until the local Kawasaki mechanic pointed me in the right direction. The rubber inlet manifolds had hairline cracks in them. Too expensive to buy new, I had to scour the breakers for a good set. This problem occurred every 70,000 miles or so.
Most of the electrical system is still original. Rear bulbs do blow once or twice a year, the handlebar switches have become very loose and I've never got more than 18 months out of a battery. The starter has had its bushes refurbished twice. The bike is easy enough to start on the kickstart, but with the endemic clutch drag in town it's nice to have the electric boot to hand if the motor stalls in the middle of traffic.
The original headlamp wasn't really good enough for fast riding but the quartz halogen unit I fitted solved that problem. Giving oncoming car drivers a blast of main beam has them scurrying for their dip switch. The horn was pretty pathetic as well, so I fitted twin air horns that make enough noise to make lumbering artics think twice about getting in my way. Or they did until a year ago when the vibes fractured their bracket, sending them tumbling down the road, never to be seen again.
A spate of blowing fuses, which left me stranded in fast flowing traffic, was traced to a corroded earth lead. The wiring has otherwise shown as little sign of losing its insulation as the tank and frame of throwing off its paint. I was most impressed with the standard of finish on the cycle parts. Although side panels that pulled off their spigots were not so amusing. The engine alloy needed a lot of attention to keep it from corroding. I ended up bead blasting most of it and polishing to a mirror finish. It's now a weekly task to keep in shape.
The bike is very straightforward to work on. You can even take the head and barrels off without levering the engine out of the frame. The valve shims can be changed by any competent home mechanic and even though the carbs are original and therefore now a bit finicky they can be set up in half an hour with a vacuum gauge set.
There are not too many nice ones left, the basic reliability of the engine encouraged owners to radically tune the engine, which usually resulted in their falling off when the chassis threw a wobbler. Look for sensible chassis mods and a stock motor if you're in the market to buy one.
I still use the big Z every day, it's my only machine. With its polished looks it's dead easy to pass the machine off as one of the new retro Kawasakis, although I would probably have trouble keeping up with the larger Zephyr. I'm pretty sure that someone who rode my machine would find it a bit of a dog, especially until I fix the front end (again), but to me we've been together for so long that I can't conceive of life without the big bruiser.
Adrian Lawrence
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for Kawa fours
Being old and cunning, when the insurance rates went berserk a year or two back, I moved in for the kill. Namely, a 1982 Z1000ST owned by some fat youth who hid his obese face under enough hair to make a werewolf envious. I'd seen the advert in MCN, running for about a month with a pretty vicious price cut in the last attempt. Still no takers. So I went along for a look.
Original, right down to a newish OE 4-2 exhaust and lovingly polished alloy and chrome. Mileage was mild - 19,500. For a big, tough Kawasaki DOHC four that was next to nothing. The test ride showed the engine still had a good dollop of wallop but also that the OE suspension allowed a lot of wallowing and weaving even though I was only doing double the town's speed limit.
I made an offer that almost sent the youth into a rage, but another hundred notes placated him. A pristine big Kawasaki for £600! Even if I didn't like the bike I could off-load it at a profit. The ST had huge, tiller-like bars that were almost at shoulder height. Even with these bars, the 600lbs proved difficult to shove through the traffic. Not only was a lot of effort needed, their width and height meant that it wouldn't run through narrow gaps that I would not normally think twice about taking.
The shaft drive conspired with poor, sub 2000rpm, carburation to produce a lot of lurching as I toddled along at mediocre speeds - the top heavy feel of the swine did not help, either. A brief bit of clear road allowed me to twist the throttle hard in second gear. The rear wheel oscillated wildly as if one of the shocks had fallen off and the bars twitched in my hands as if the front tyre had gone flat.
By the time I got home I was convinced that I'd bought an old dog. As well as the handling horrors the vibes became fierce once over 5000 revs and the engine knocked at tickover. Sounded like the main bearings were on their way out. Out with the vacuum gauges, the carbs miles out. The valves had to be set up as well, two were tight, the other six too loose. It was pretty obvious by the state of the oil that the engine hadn't had a service since it left its crate!
Putting 30 instead of 15psi in the tyres helped the stability but a series of bumps would send the shocks into desperate tremors and the forks often shook like they were falling out of their yokes. The engine was smooth and hugely powerful, although it ran better above 6000rpm. The gearbox was slicker than I expected with no backlash from the rigid shaft drive connection to the back wheel. The engine was good for 130mph, the chassis no more than 65mph!
A new set of Konis, needle roller steering head bearings, a fork brace and a set of Metz tyres instead of the worn out Pirellis were thrown at the bike. Narrow, flat bars completed the transformation. It was a real brute in town, needing massive muscle to turn and twitching over the pot-holes like the frame was rigid. The mismatch between footrests and bars meant that my knees were cramped and my wrists overloaded with my own body mass.
The open road beckoned. That was more like it, it would growl along at up to 90mph without weaving. The front end would hit a large bump, twitch slightly but quickly resume its stability. The engine pushed the ST through the 100mph barrier as if it was nothing, not a feeling shared by my muscles, up to about 120mph before aerodynamics robbed the Kawasaki of its power.
It weaved at 95mph, started to wobble at 110mph and became delirious at 120mph. As my muscles could only take short bursts above 90mph this wasn't a great problem. I put on some higher, wider bars to aid town work and a handlebar fairing of vast proportions to aid touring. I only did the ton the once with this contraption, as it went into a vile speed wobble which was only eradicated by using adrenalin aided muscle on the front brake lever. But as a 90mph motorway tourer stability was fine.
The brakes were good for a laugh (if you were a cager and hated motorcyclists). They worked quite well in town, even in the wet, but a couple of vicious stops made the lever go all soggy. I could get it to pull back to the bars after a 70mph emergency stop. I knew things were going to get interesting when all the caliper screws stripped their threads when I tried to take them apart. Corrosion had so rotted the calipers’ internals that they were beyond renovation. The breaker came up with a better set off a Z1000 for twenty notes. At least the pads had a few mm of material left, unlike the old ones that were down to the metal.
The new brakes worked better, although there was a slight wet weather lag and not enough feel to easily brake safely on wet roads. I lived with them for six months until braking deteriorated again. This time due to ultra thin brake discs that were also warped. It was so bad that it was impossible to push the Kawasaki without the aid of the motor. More time wasted visiting breakers.
I'd found the engine needed frequent services - 750 to 1000 miles depending on how hard it was ridden. If it didn't get them it became very vibratory and reluctant to run cleanly. I was doing that kind of mileage every month so it was a bit tedious. Using the bike as a long distance tourer, when two days riding could put a 1000 miles on the clock, it was ridiculous. Fuel was reasonable at 40 to 50mpg, but would go down to 30mpg if it was really caned. Oil didn’t burn off or leak between changes.
Loaded up with a pillion and excess of camping gear, the ST handled like a deranged camel. I rode it half a mile, turned round and headed back for home. Dumped half the gear and strapped on a large tank-bag. Turned up the Konis to their hardest setting and started out again. It still wobbled wildly above 80mph but was at least reasonably controllable below that.
As well as the engine maintenance, there was the question of tyres. There was so much rolling mass that the Metzs barely lasted for 5000 miles, a mileage I once did in a week on the Continent. The ST couldn't keep up with the fast lane traffic on German autobahns and wobbled thrillingly on fast, curving roads.
Something of a mixed bag, then, too heavy to be truly practical; but I had a lot of faith in that big Kawasaki engine... It was tried a bit when the motor started rattling with 35,700 miles done. The chainsaw noise indicated a wrecked camchain, but it was in actuality a sticking camchain tensioner. Easily fixed with some attention from the good old emery cloth.
Not so easy was the exhaust, which after a year had rotted away at an amazing rate. The engine ran gruffly below 5000 revs then made so much racket that I kept looking behind expecting to see a runaway plane. A 4-1 with a dubious silencer, from the breakers, worked well with the stock carbs but was only marginally quieter. It looked well out of place on a staid tourer.
After 15 months, and near on 20,000 miles, I was thoroughly disenchanted with the big Kawasaki. I hadn't adapted to the amount of effort needed in town whilst my fast disappearing bank balance bore testament to its horrendous running costs. It was spring, an ideal time to get shot of the ST, especially as it was due for a new set of tyres and pads. I started off at £1750, ended up quite happy to take £850 in used fifty pound notes, which went on a Z650.
Most impressive feature of the ST was the engine, along with the transmission which was both smooth and maintenance free. The chassis was much more seventies than eighties; even with reasonable suspension did not inspire.
Brian Howell
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Like most old Japanese fours the Z1000ST had many good and bad points. Even when brand, spanking new it wasn't a perfect machine. Time, mileage, cack-handed maintenance or rebuilds, aftermarket accessories and crash damage all take their toll. As many Kawasaki fours will be 20 years old anything and everything can be expected and suspected.
Many of the bikes were raced, even the ST shaft version! The most obvious mark being the oil plug wired in (though this is cheap enough to replace with a new one). Race madness burnt the clutch and would ultimately ruin the top end and roller bearing crank, although the latter took some doing. Being descended from the Z900, the 1000's are extremely tough, even better built than smaller fours like the Z650.
The tough four cylinder motor churned out more than enough power to be interesting, well up to speeding on modern roads. The mill had a wide spread of power that was usually focused at 6500 to 7000 revs by the fitment of a four into one exhaust. An obligatory fitment given the rate at which the OE system rusted,
The ST was aimed at the tourer but had the extreme penalties of even more mass than the already heavy chain drive Z1000 and excessive consumption of consumables. Tourers didn't expect race track handling and welcomed the maintenance free shaft drive - in theory. The ST wasn't on offer for very long, its parameters having a very limited appeal.
Appeal though it did to the guy I bought the bike off. He'd run it for 15 years and 45000 miles, with no engine problems and lots of chassis upgrading. In fact, the bike ran later Z1100 forks with massive brace, Koni shocks, Avon tyres, and an heavy amount of frame bracing around the steering head. The frame was in reality quite well built, crash resistant to the point where it'd only bend when the bike was a complete write- off.
The riding position was stock, raised bars and forward mounted pegs. A refilled seat with kinky leather cover proved comfortable but the high bars were a turn off for high speed work. Anything over 80mph caused pains just about everywhere and my helmet almost tore my head off at the ton. The chassis, thus modified, was much better than I had any right to expect. None of the infamous weaving or wallowing, showing that by 1979 Kawasaki had more or less sussed the dynamics of steering geometry.
Weight was a severe limitation in the bends even after I'd fitted ape-hangers to aid leverage. They were not well matched to the chassis with a tendency to increase the effect of the secondary vibes. They really buzzed between 5000 and 6000rpm, even more of a frenzy above 8500 revs. I'd read in the UMG that the solution was to squeeze tubes of silicone sealant into the ends of the handlebars. I did this and it helped a little, but obviously if it doesn't work your left with no easy way to remove the goo.
The commendably loud four into one exhaust, with its obvious benefits for personal safety (even if you end up deaf), had the major drawback that it dug into the tarmac on spirited right-handers. At this point the Michelins felt like they were about to fall off the edge of their tread so I should've just taken it as a warning to back off. Sometimes, in the company of friends, it was necessary to turn the wick up and then the limits of the big Z began to intrude.
Now, there are ways to overcome this which involve lots of muscle and a big pair of balls, some very vicious point and squirt techniques. The shaft drive, normally well in the background, began to intrude, especially under braking or a trailing throttle when the back wheel hopped across the road. It's a very tiring experience, both mentally and physically, that after half an hour leaves me flaked out.
The brakes can also affect the chassis, maybe down to the non-standard front end, more likely to some weakness in the swinging arm or mounting, and to wear in the forks themselves. The lack of gaiters inspired no confidence in the seals' longevity, whilst the mixture of twin disc braking forces and excessive mass must've given the bushes a real battering. Being forced to chuck the brace to stop chronic stinchion didn't help their resistance to twisting.
If the effect, at times, was a touch traumatic the splendid way the motor ran overcame most of my reservations. My friends on watercooled fours were experiencing early cam wear, camchain demise, burnt out clutches, seized pistons, etc., whilst the Z just ran relentlessly. Those on race replicas bore a remarkable resemblance to gorillas, resulting from their unnatural posture, hard seats and stiff suspension. They seemed to take any excuse for a petrol stop whilst I could quite happily potter along at 80mph for 200 miles; easily catching them up during their series of stop/go routines over the same distance even though they reckoned an 120mph cruising speed a minimum rate of velocity.
The Z showed its age by seizing up the rear disc and by the silencer disintegrating. The former needed work from a big hammer whilst the latter was just a matter of sawing off the remnants and fitting a can off a GPZ750. The relative silence revealed that the set of eight valves were in desperate need of shimming, which I decided to do myself with the aid of a Haynes manual. Not easy, it took me a whole weekend of fiddling with shims and camshafts. Despite, at that point, having done 54000 miles, there was no sign of wear, something to do with regular oil changes, I think.
Not long after that hassle the steering went really vile, traced to a pair of worn out taper roller bearings in the headstock. These were seized in so solidly that a blow torch, drift and lump hammer were needed. The new set proved equally resistant to a few words of pep talk. I actually ruined the top one trying to get the thing in. After a weekend of the usual swearing and sweating, the Z was back on the road.
It took six attempts to torque down the steering head. Too tight or too loose had the handling all vicious; needed a surgeon's touch. A second session was needed once the bearings had bedded in, but after that excessive hassle they settled down nicely.
The handling was progressively becoming rotten despite this act of charitable effort, the hard pressed forks taking all the pressure from wild riding and, also, just the mass of the bike. I'd heard about someone who was breaking a Z1100, so went along to have a look.
I was harshly interrogated before being admitted into the presence of a perfect specimen, save that the crank had broken. The front end was as non-standard as my own, coming from a Zephyr 1100 and having done only 3000 miles. Mine for a £150 but I'd need to buy another set of taper rollers as the steering stem was different, which pissed me off as I'd have to go through all the effort and hassle again.
It was worth it. Like being on a brand new bike by way of comparison. It was still a great handful, still did some massive wobbles, but for a lot of the time it'd become a perfect peach. The increased steering accuracy and stability actually gave me the means to set the bike up on a line that avoided the worse of the bumps and pot-holes.
This relative bliss lasted for all of four months. I'd had some near misses, of course - who hasn't? - but a bloody big bus running through a red light at about 50mph was more than I'd expected in my worst dreams. I'd actually slammed on the anchors, given the Z a shoulder dislocating lurch, missing the back of the bus by inches. My new trajectory and remaining velocity took me up the pavement and into a brick wall. Such was the residual momentum of the Kawasaki that the rotted bricks exploded, the wall collapsed and I head-butted the plate-glass window that was previously held in position by the destroyed wall.
The window exploded on my helmet, shards of glass causing the peds to scream and run around like headless chickens. Luckily, injuries were minimal and when I staggered upright I found that the Z's front end was ruined. By then the shopkeeper had rushed out to view his wrecked building, a few more bricks falling down from the side, threatening the structural integrity of the upper storeys! By then the bus was nowhere to be seen and my explanation appeared very weak. The cops thought so, too, and the insurance company weren't over the moon at the prospect of rebuilding the shop, plus loss of earnings, nervous distress, etc., for the shopkeeper.
As it was only TPT cover I ended up knocking on the old front end after doing a quick rebuild with new seals and bushes, plus hard chroming the sliders. This was nowhere near as good as the previous set-up, the forks are just too spindly for the mass. Having become used to reasonable handling, the second time out had me off the bike for the first time. Somehow, before I'd always managed to hang on, come what way. But this time I hit a pot-hole when banked over that I thought I was going to miss by six inches.
The suspension just couldn't cope and the front wheel tucked under the bike, the whole thing swinging around like a fair ground ride. Only there was no safety bar and I went flying one way, the bike the other. There's urban warfare for you, boy. The tarmac was harsh on my knees and even uglier on the Z, which managed to rip its fuel tank off and spill petrol everywhere.
Some Henry rushed out of his cage wearing a vicious grin, sprayed the bike, myself (who was trying to ward him off) and a couple of gawping peds with a fire extinguisher. He thought himself a hero, I thought him an arsehole and would've booted him between the legs had I not been busy wiping foam out of my eyes.
By then the Z had 78 thou on the clock and was feeling as tired and pissed off as I was with life in general and this motorcycle in particular. It had to go before it killed me. I bought a used tank which turned out to be more rust than metal, and a few other cosmetic bits, to put the thing into good order. Z1000's are very popular, I didn't have any trouble selling the bike for a small profit. A used Zephyr 1100 was bought as a replacement, a real dream in comparison but still enough of a bruiser to be interesting and keep me on my toes in the corners.
Giles Montgomery
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The big, brutal Z felt like it was falling apart under me. This was because it was falling apart under me. After doing a rendition of a drunken parrot about to lose it all, I hastily hit the indifferent brakes and struggled 550lbs of slithering metal over to the side of the road. Considering that this was the second day of ownership and my first serious ride, I thought I'd done pretty damn well to survive the experience. The first hint of mortality came from the back end, the whole bike quickly degenerating into the kind of wobbles and weaves of which H1 and Z1 myths are made.
Those old bouncers had a fierce rep right out of the crate, when brand stinking new. The Z1000 was reputedly less of a leaking barge, getting better as it wove its way through an excess of model designations. Mine had felt solid enough for the first few miles, although I was old enough not to go mad on the throttle until some experience of the beast had been sought. I was more used to hack Superdreams, rat XS400's and the odd if fading middleweight four. A sudden influx of money had caused me to spend £1500 on the 62000 mile Kawasaki.
The bike looked clean rather than immaculate, mildly modded where it counted (rear suspension, exhaust, etc) rather than original; still growled out the power with enough vigour to jerk my spine and stir the adrenaline. Stepping off the hulk, after the wobble, I noted that the mill seemed awfully hot and that the alloy swinging arm hung at an odd angle. This after-market accessory had thrashed its needle roller bearings, leaving the bike impossible to ride. Only a series of begging phone calls persuaded a mate of a mate to turn up with a trailer for the six mile trek home.
No way to start life with a new machine, especially one that had cost an outrageous sum of money to buy (the previous CB400N cost £150 and lasted for a year without any serious expense). I hammered the old spindle out and the new bearings in, noting that the old ones were totally devoid of grease. Not surprising, there was no way of getting any grease in there once the back end was reassembled.
The next 600 miles went by in a haze of speed and, er, petrol fumes. Yep, the fuel tank was seeping fuel due to it rusting from the inside out. The accumulation of debris in the bottom of the tank explained the bike's reluctance to pull more than 125mph. Finding a good tank proved taxing; in the end a Z1 item was force-fitted. The earlier tanks were made to a higher standard, last much longer than the mush fitted to the Z1000.
Luckily, for me, the engines were built to a similarly high standard. Came as no surprise that the motor ran perfectly, if very hot, until 82000 miles when the clutch rattle vied with a disintegrating camchain tensioner for my attention. Not wanting an engine full of metal bits I whipped the motor out - more a sort of desperate stagger, actually, as it's one hell of a heavy lump; must be all those hefty roller bearings that make the crankshaft nigh on indestructible.
Easy enough to work on, good used bits were fitted in an afternoon, along with a camchain that glowed with its newness. I got some help to lift the motor back in, fearing a slipped disc or broken foot. The engine refused to start for a day, then gave in but sounded so quiet that I switched it off to check that the oil level was okay. It was but despite the quietness there wasn't any extra performance, a testament to the tolerances under which the mill would successfully run.
By then I'd become used to the handling. Basically, if everything was set up perfectly and the tyres were in good shape, then it'd go where I pointed it and only threatened to throw me off if I went into corners too fast or on the brakes. A large amount of muscle was needed, both in town and on the open road, but it's something that you become used to.
If the tyres were down to 3mm, any of the chassis bearings too worn, or the suspension on the way out, then some large wobbles turned up, reminding me that this was one hefty brute that could let loose without any warning. It pays to keep the chassis up to scratch. Also, the brakes. At best they were indifferent without being dangerous. If the calipers were left to rot they became very grabby, seriously nasty. I only let them degenerate the once; that was more than enough for me.
After I broke through the 100,000 mile barrier it was became too much of an expense and hassle. Consumables were horrific (everything less than 5000 miles), fuel around 30mpg (it'd managed 45mpg earlier) and performance not much better than my friend's GS750. Everything pointed to some serious engine expenses and I should've got out whilst the going was still good, the bike having retained its value. Laziness stopped me from that easy hustle.
With 102,000 miles on the clock, I was cajoled into a round Britain run for charity. My motives weren't entirely benign as the petrol would be paid for and my friends were threatening to break all speed records. Sounded like a good crack to me.
At the time. On the appointed day what looked like a blizzard greeted us at 6.00am. One thing the Z doesn't like is wet weather. Neither do I. I feigned a sudden illness but was threatened with banishment to Wrexham, so no easy way out. Our collective reaction to the harsh elements was to turn the wick up; get it over with as quickly as possible.
Motorways were dealt with the usual contempt. Wrap myself around the machine, head down and throttle to the stop. 120mph most of the way; the odd bit of frantic braking when sighting what looked like a cop car. A couple of hours of this madness found us in the north of England and the poor old Z grinding and clattering away like a Victorian engineering works.
That was the end of my charity jaunt. One of my mates towing me the 300 miles home. I don't think we hit 50mph once, both of us in a pretty desperate condition by the time we rolled up to my house. No-one would believe we'd done the journey back in under twelve hours but they all nodded sagely when I regaled them with tales of lurid weaves and nearly coming off more times in that journey than in the previous fourteen years of motorcycling.
I knew the engine was going to be bad when I found one of its mounting plates had cracked up. Secondary vibes, above 6000 revs, were always annoying but I rarely ended up with completely dead fingers or feet. Whipping the head off revealed three cracked pistons. Bits had found their way into the gearbox, where teeth were torn off the cogs. The small-ends were also shot, the camchain looked elastic and the bores were heavily scored. Before you dismiss the Z as a pile of crap, think about the mileage and the revelation that it'd never been rebored!
Try as I might, I was never able to find a replacement engine. Sure, there were a few on offer but they were in a worse state than mine! I placed an advert in the local Free Advertiser, offering the chassis for £600 and received several phone calls. Only one guy was willing to come up with some serious dosh, having crashed his low mileage Z1000 into a wall on one drunken outing. Considering that all my consumables were on the way out, 450 notes seemed about right.
The Z1000 was built between 1977 and 1985. There are still plenty of examples in reasonable shape, available for £1000-2000. The handling can be hairy but the tough motors make them worth the effort. I went back to a Superdream for a week but gave up on it as I'd become used to the urge of a big Jap four. I ended up with an immaculate Z1000ST. What more can I say?
Steve Lewings
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for Kawa fours
The fuel injected Z1000 is a rare beast but the 1981 example I came across was in such neat shape that I couldn't resist. The ten year old bike had done a mere 18000 miles, which for these tough DOHC fours is not much more than running in mileages. The whole bike had survived with original components except for Phantom tyres and a four into one exhaust.
Riding home, after handing over a thousand notes, I was amazed with the bike's handling. Very dangerous above 70mph with massive weaves, the Z needing more than one lane to survive. It was so bad that I was reassured, the previous owner had obviously not ridden the bike at all hard.
Judging by the murky white sludge that came out of the crankcases the oil had never, ever, been changed. The engine idled reliably and whipped around into the red when the throttle was opened in neutral. Ergo, the valves and fuel injectors didn't need any serious attention.
That just left the handling to sort out. The list went something like this: fork brace; heavy-duty springs; Koni-Dial-A-Ride shocks; alloy swinging arm with needle roller bearings; and on the advice of the local dealer, taper roller bearings in the headstock.
I was expecting a brilliant transformation, but the damn thing still weaved and wobbled at 70mph. However, going above 80mph smoothed the handling out until about the ton when the wobbles came back with a vengeance. My mate with an XS1100 reckoned it was the half foot high bars not allowing much weight over the front wheel.
One set of ace-bars later, the handling was much improved. I actually felt inclined to bank the Z over more than a few degrees in corners. Flashes of my death ran through my mind when the exhaust's collector scraped on to the tarmac. The narrower bars made it extremely difficult to quickly lever the 550lbs of slow steering metal back on to a less fatal line. I could feel my muscles being torn out with all the effort of controlling the clumsy swine. Back home there was a hell of a big dent in the exhaust!
The four into one hadn't upset the engine's delivery of power, which was thrilling to 6500 revs and exceptional thereafter. Even the XS1100 had trouble keeping up when I worked the throttle. Most of the time I could only use a fraction of the available power, explaining, along with the presence of fuel injection, the 55 to 60mpg economy.
Regrettably, such frugality didn't extend to the rest of the consumables. Used to 550s and 750s, I was shocked to find the back tyre expiring in 3000 miles, the front in 5000 miles, which mileage also ruined the front pads. Clutch cables, even when greased and carefully routed, only lasted for 2000 to 3000 miles. No amount of careful, as in slow, riding helped extend consumable life; if I was ever to ride like a lunatic all the time, those distances could probably be halved!
There was no hope of ignoring wear in the consumables, either. Worn tyres brought the worst out in the handling and dead pads rattled around, allowing a mind warping amount of fade and lag. The brake calipers proved resistant to winter grime, only needing a clean up when the pads were changed - in good nick the front brake would quite happily squeal the tyre.
Town riding was a rather crazy point and squirt affair that usually ended up making maximum use of the front brake. With the ace-bars it was a heavy, awkward old thing to bounce about but drag starts were scintillating and the Z looked quite flash, a nice pose for impressing the ignorant and a certain type of young lady who would do just about anything after a ride.
It took about 5000 miles for the clutch to fall apart. The drum actually cracked up, leading to lots of grinding noises and a complete loss of power. I killed the motor straight away and pushed her the half mile to the house. I collapsed from exhaustion. It could've been really serious but none of the bits had managed to snag on any other components. I flushed out the engine a couple of times to make sure. A secondhand clutch was acquired from the breakers. They do go when wheelies are indulged but that must've been part of its history because I certainly would not try that. Too heavy and brutal for such excesses.
The clutch and the gearbox always felt a bit shagged out. False neutrals, hammering noises and some clutch twitching that made smooth town work hard going. There was a period when starting became onerous and the engine cut out at low speeds. It wasn't the injectors or associated black boxes (the latter looked newish) but the ignition coils. A secondhand set for a Mk.2 were fitted, worked okay despite looking very different.
A holiday ride down to Spain at some wicked speeds, necessary to keep the XS1100 in sight, tested my endurance. I didn't really want to do more than 200 miles in a day of high speed riding but my friend proved quite insane. The XS wobbled and weaved to an even greater extent than the Z, but my friend had trained himself to ignore the wildness!
Secondary vibes also appeared, turning my fingers numb after about an hour, the white knuckle grip on the bars amplifying the buzzing. After the journey down to Spain, done in a day, I refused to ride the Kwack for a couple of days, giving my muscles a chance to recover. The XS rider had no qualms about leaping aboard first thing in the morning, impressing the Spanish girls with his wheel-spinning and wheelies! Still, I wasn't going to complain as he set me up with a couple of young women.
Coming home, the camchain started to rattle at high revs. I took it easy as the XS rider roared off into the distance, not to be seen again until I hit the ferry. By the time I was back home the noise was drowning out the exhaust even at tickover. Camchains are another weak spot with the engine, often only lasting for 25000 miles. I had to buy a new tensioner as well. No other damage was done to the engine, in most circumstances it's possible to get home after the rattles start.
The next little annoyance was the silencer beginning to disintegrate. It was very battered by then by being scraped along the tarmac during the more exuberant cornering. The fuel injectors appeared to adjust themselves to suit the disintegrating baffles or maybe the state of tune was mild enough to tolerate changes in exhaust flow. It was a matter of using a hacksaw to cut off the silencer part of the exhaust and knocking on a nearly new Zephyr can. The downpipes were merely rusty.
54000 miles had the tank paint fading and the frame paint peeling off over the welds, whilst wheel alloy was submerged beneath a layer of white corrosion. Some decaying wiring started the fuses blowing and the underside of the petrol tank was spotted with rust. The motor was solid enough, loads of power and no untoward noises.
Seemed to me that the bike was beginning to reach that age when big expense was going to be necessary. Even after eighteen months of riding I hadn't really come to grips with the handling. It would often leave me trembling with fear, just short of making a mess in my underpants. There was an element of unpredictability that was perturbing. I sold the bike for £1450, now have something smaller and newer.
Alan Kay
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It's often been said that money talks. This was certainly the case when a friend and I went to Southend from North Bucks as a result of an ad in the motorcycle press. The ad was placed by a dealer for a Kawasaki Z1000 shaft drive. The asking price was £1300 and I duly arrived at the shop with 1300 beer tokens in my leather jacket pocket.
The dealer wanted some ID before I could take the bike out. And I had to wait because someone else was test riding it. They returned and I fell in love with it except for the K and Q seat. Having never ridden anything bigger than a CB500/4 I was totally overawed by this experience.
It didn't matter that I couldn't reach the ground with both feet. On my return to the shop I wanted it, even though the seat would have to go. I prepared to haggle but the dealer wouldn't deal as he'd just sold it to the other tester. I almost cried, the trip was wasted...
Maybe the trip wouldn't be a complete waste, the dealer suggested, over the back they had a chain drive version of the same thing. They showed me a mint Z1000Mk2, absolutely as standard and as new albeit three years old. The asking price was £1550. I protested that I couldn't really afford it, the dealer said never mind, take it out and see if it changes your mind.
I did, it did and I still couldn't. Negotiations got the price down to £1450. They got out every loan plan they had to convince me that I could afford it. I said £1300 was my limit but I had the cash in my pocket and became the owner of a British Tax Payer subsidised motorcycle. I rode home happy as Larry. This was proof that even dealers haggle if you've got the cash, and I got an immediate MOT. Even the sun shone.
The ride home was a real eye opener. I was used to bikes that were able to just exceed the ton with nothing left. My mate on his KH400 kept up a steady 80mph back up the M1. As a result of me not being insured I preferred a legal 70mph. On one occasion I fell back quite a distance. The motorway was very empty, I gave in to temptation and just held the throttle wide open. The surge was terrific, the pull from 4500rpm, 75mph, made me feel like a god. Through five grand (83mph), wow, now 5500rpm (91mph) and I was suffering from white knuckles. It wasn't the speed, it was how hard it pulled at those speeds; in top! Suddenly six grand (100mph) was attained and a strange thing happened. The bike came on cam and nearly gave me a heart attack.
The throttle was held fully open. I just had to find how fast it went. The KH came and went in a purple blur. Bottle went and the right hand cried chicken. I didn't even have the time to look to see how fast I'd gone. What's the big deal? Bikes can do 160mph and plenty seem to think nothing of it. Well, the Mk2 was a genuine 135mph bike, no bull, no hype, just fact. The first GPz1100 was yet to be seen. The occasional Italian motorcycles were rumoured to hit 140mph, assuming the electrics didn't give out first. The GS1000 was on par for speed but was reputed to handle better. And that's the whole point.
Believe me, if you were flat out you knew it. I later owned a GPZ900R and at an indicated 140mph it was as steady as a rock. It didn't feel fast. If you can ride flat out on a Mk2 for more than 30 seconds then you'll ache the next day. Oh, don't forget to sit bolt upright like the bars say you must....nothing had bars higher than the Zed in those days excepting the more extravagant choppers. The bike could cruise all day at 110mph but realistic cruising has to be 80mph and 90-100mph for short bursts.
My bike was bought only for fun. Ride it in the rain? Not if I could help it. The DT or CB500/4 handled that job. Consequently, the tyres had a hard life. The rear covers usually went in 2500 to 3000 miles, the fronts in 5000 miles, although you could double that mileage with sedate touring. The O-ring chain was always kept spotless and only a smidgen of oil was used to lubricate the rollers, which meant grime didn't adhere to any moving parts, thus not forming a chain wearing grinding paste. The result? Would you believe I never adjusted the chain unless I removed the rear wheel to replace the tyre. A life approaching 35000 miles isn't bad compared to some restricted sixteeners that knock out chains in 4000 miles.
The brake pads worried me, using sintered metal pads would, I calculated, wear down the discs in 30 to 40,000 miles at £60 each. The rear disc was worse. I adjusted the free play out of the linkage, fine when cold, but as soon as the brake was used the pads expanded, bound on and resulted in a 50mph Zed. When it had all cooled down, a cracked disc was the result.
When I first started to explore the bike's capabilities I didn't think much of the brakes. My old KH400 had better brakes until I realised that point and squirt tactics meant arriving at my favourite corner 20-30mph faster. From a standing start or a slow corner it doesn't take long to reach the red in third gear. Honest m'lud, how was I to know that equated to 100mph! The brakes should be good on any bike you try to buy. If not, then something's wrong. A rasping or clicking sound when lightly applying the brakes is normal - it's the holes in the discs.
At 9000 miles the left-hand silencer started to rot through. Standard pipes are quiet up to six grand save for a distinct whistle, above this they rasp, loudly. So much bliss that I shelled out £102 for an OE replacement.
The Mk2 is a heavy bike, although to be fair no heavier than many new superbikes. That is not to say, however, that it feels the same. It is a top heavy brute that feels every one of its 549lbs, ready to roll. The aforementioned bars aid low speed manoeuvrability but the same bars magnify every twitch sent back to the rider from the front wheel. Once you are used to the mass it's easy to throw the bike around at low, town speeds. To onlookers this is a great pose because the bike's size seems to rule out this behaviour. It is possible to negotiate the Part One test on one! Although few examiners would concede that the Mk2 is a 125, even if you remove the sidepanels.
Ahh, talking of sidepanels and other related plastic. I lost a sidepanel and as a result blew over £30 replacing it. The badge is extra.....if you're looking at buying a tatty example with a view to tarting it up then be prepared to part with many of those bits of funny coloured paper. The cost of a new seat, one pipe and a few bits of plastic could be equal to the cost of a good little 100cc runaround for you to ride while you save hard to do the job properly.
The Mk2 has a crank that knows nothing of plain bearings. Consequently, the oil pressure in the crankcases is in the order of 4-5psi and not 45psi as used in other machines such as the Z650/750. This also means that bodge repairs to crankcases that have been holed are more likely to go unnoticed, as they tend not to leak a great deal until they loosen, by which time it is often too late to do much about it. An owner neglecting the bike will neglect the chain and that can lead to cracked cases. Make sure all the screws holding the side covers to the crankcases are there - a missing bolt might indicate a missing lug.
The Mk2 and the ST can suffer from a slight hesitancy just off idle when pulling away. This was a problem, I had heard of, on the Z650 as well. The cure was to link the inlet stubs in pairs using the vacuum gauge take off points. It is the very flexibility of the motor that makes this an annoyance as low revs are the order of the day thus accentuating the problem.
If an aftermarket pipe is fitted, check it doesn't impede access to the oil filter (in the sump plate). Such pipes often exaggerate the flat spot. Beware bikes with no main stands as it's a good way to stop you checking things like wheel bearings.
The bike's straight line stability is borderline when good but is decidedly iffy when the cycle parts are damaged or worn. This is to be borne in mind when test riding an example, especially if you are a lightweight person. A sudden tankslapper on someone else's bike is not conducive to good health.
If the bike spits back through the carbs or on the overrun then check if the owner understands the importance of checking shims regularly as the valves sometimes settle back in their seats. My camchain lasted 32000 miles, others do more and less.
I fell upon hard times and swapped the Zed for a new RD350LC. Within days I was in a bad way and by the time I got back to the shop hoping the dealer would swap bikes back plus as much cash as I could raise, it had already been sold. Sob!
Philip O'Hara
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It was a cold and wet miserable Saturday afternoon. It had been raining that morning when he withdrew a 1000 quid in cash from his building society account. He had waited the four days they had insisted on and had grown impatient. Armed with this and a further 200, notes plus a determination not to return home empty handed, he set out to search the relatively local dealers for a bike more able to send him into an ecstatic state from the raw power than his 200cc hack.
I had the job of piloting the hack back if we were lucky enough to come across a suitable mount. Luton was attained and the search began. The first two dealers visited contained either over-priced rubbish or over-priced exotica. The third contained much the same but in the far corner lurked what looked like a mean green Lawson Replica Z1000ST.
The dealer said they had just taken it in part ex and the price would be 1350 notes after it had been though their workshop. It had a 510 Roadrunner, H rated on a 130mph bike, rear tyre but he seemed blind to the implications of this. It was a sign of things to come. The dealer wouldn't come down below £1300 so we left to look elsewhere - most of the dealers we tried must have just given up as estate agents so inaccurate were the descriptions in their MCN ads.
After several hours of fruitless searching, when we were both absolutely drenched, and after a well knackered VF750 was tried (the last straw), it was back to Luton. After much hustling the dealer finally agreed to let the bike go for 1200 notes provided that he took it as it was, without either a guarantee or MOT. At the nearest petrol station, I tried blipping the engine and the throttle cable snapped. Recourse to the toolbox fixed it up so there was a quarter turn available, enough for a heady 50mph. The trip home was otherwise without trauma, the nightmare then began.
The weather improved, so the next day the owner started to clean it up. He found that the front discs were plain when they should have been drilled and that the front wheel didn't really fit in the forks properly. It had felt okay only because it had been bolted together with huge force. Would the MOT tester notice when bolted back together?
Meanwhile, it was decided to remove the rear shocks to clean up the springs. On one side the shock was held on by a single nut, the other whacked on with a large hammer. But that was nothing, the other shock had two stripped threads. Upon polishing the engine cases it was discovered that the CDI pick-up cover had a hole the size of a 2p piece and the alternator cover had a securing screw missing, a fact that was to cause major horrors later on.
The following weekend the bike was sent for an MOT. On the way to the testing station the owner noticed that the front wheel was buckled! A quick U-turn followed - the centrestand removed and the bike taken for its MOT. The tester noted that the pilot light was missing as the unit had been replaced by a car headlamp and the front brake light switch wasn't there and that it needed a centrestand fitted so he could test the wheels...
The brake switch proved a bitch to fix as the casting was broken - a bodge eventually sufficed. The shock nuts were superglued in place. Another MOT station was tried and it passed, although the tester did mention the pilot light - along the lines that one was fitted when he tested it, wasn't there?
It soon became apparent that the bike was losing or burning a lot of oil. One night the Kawa was left on its sidestand instead of the main stand. A puddle of oil was the result. Investigation revealed that oil was coming out of the alternator cover where the bolt was missing. On inserting a suitable screw it was found that the thread was stripped - the lug on the main engine casing was missing. Worse still, on close examination an area was found to be filled with car body filler and painted over. Two more lugs holding the crankcases together were missing as a result. No wonder it leaked.
A decision was made to cover up and sell, claiming ignorance. He had to, he had bought a dog and the barking was keeping him awake at night. The filler was painted over and a little dust added to subdue its freshness. The oil wiped off easily, all he had to do was not use the sidestand any more. An ad was placed in the press at 1300 notes, not too cheap so as to avoid suspicion......the owner was really willing to go down to 1000 just to get shot of it.
One phone call resulted. The punter turned up, seemed not to have ridden anything bigger than 100cc and was given a quick thrash around on the pillion. He wanted it - it did look damn good on first glance. He had been very lucky to get rid of it so easily, all the faults bar the shock absorber mounts should have been spotted by the wary, and indeed, he would have normally seen them easily. But, as they say, love is blind and in that respect bikes aren't that much different to women.
The dealer, it must be said, may not have known the bike's true condition. It's possible that in the rush to off-load yet another highly priced megabike, that the Zed wasn't looked at properly. After all, it looked mint at first and ran like a dream. The dealer had been saved a lot of trouble, though, whether he knew it or not is not certain.
Just remember, don't go by appearances, check everything you can and take along a friend who doesn't much like the type of bike you're buying to inject a little objectivity into the process. You have been warned.
Philip O'Haran