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The KL250 is a relatively rare trail bike that never made the same impression as the XL250 or DT175. A year ago I bought a rebuilt 1977 KL for £300. This was a natural for my commuting chores and would even be employed for the odd 100 to 200 mile weekend run.
The single cylinder engine is one of those simple OHC units that the Japanese are so good at churning out in vast quantities. Honda started the genre in the late sixties with the CB150 (later to become the ubiquitous CB125) and Kawasaki went on to perfect its parameters in devices like the Z200 and 250, to which the KL is closely related.
My bike was 15 years old, with unknown mileage, but the rebuilt mill gave every indication of still knocking out its claimed 21 horses. The chunky standard exhaust (a quick rust natural if ever there was one), indicators and minor brackets had been hacked off, helping to get the mass under 300lbs.
Thus it can make the most of its power. Gearing was street rather than trail (off one of the Kawasaki fours) to the extent that a touch of clutch slip was required on take-offs. The engine begins to gasp for breath after 7000rpm but from 2000 revs onwards the mill punches out useful power.
It's never going to be a TZR killer but was able to show its numberplate to any number of flash gits in cages. Better still, frugality had me beaming from ear to ear - 70 to 80mpg - even when cruising at 75mph. The gearing was spot on, able to put 85mph on the clock just as the motor ran out of puff in top gear.
I was surprised at the torque of the thumper motor. No, it wouldn't pull off from 200rpm like an old long stroke British single, but once it had gained a certain velocity it would hold it against some pretty nasty obstacles. Once, two-up, up a hill against a bit of wind it still held on to its 70mph cruising speed without needing any mad antics on the gearbox.
The latter was never entirely precise, took me about a month to master. The clutch sometimes clanged alarmingly, but it was light enough not to hurt my wrist. The gearbox became nasty when the drive chain went out of adjustment, which was more often than I would've liked. Drive chains, admittedly of the cheap and nasty variety, lasted little more than 4000 miles. The sprockets never needed replacement, though.
The rest of the chassis was a mixed bag. Most frightening was the SLS drum brake that looked to me like it might be more at home on a heavy-duty pushbike! It was evidently set up for gentle braking off-road, not for the KL's new found turn of speed on the tarmac. It wasn't so much brake fade that caused heart palpitations but a lack of power.
I was thankful for the light mass, which, together with the wide bars, meant I could throw the Kawasaki around inconsiderate obstacles. It was also easy to aviate the front wheel when it became necessary to use the pavements or ride straight across mini-roundabouts.
The suspension did little to soak up such sudden imperfections. The front forks were probably original equipment but were fitted with heavy-duty springs that felt like they came straight from an old Ducati. The rear shocks were Girlings of an equal rigidity. With a huge, narrow front wheel and fat rear, stability was surprisingly good, it's just that each and every road bump was fed straight into my arms and spine.
Bumpy bends had the KL running way off line with the occasional front wheel twitch on fast exits. Smooth roads weren't a cause for concern, the tautness inhibiting any tendency that the trail based geometry might have towards weaving. In town I had to brace my body against the pot-holes but could otherwise ride in cut and thrust mode with the best (or worst) of them. Fierce engine braking helped out the brakes.
The bike came with some obscure Far Eastern tyres that never seemed to wear. The front would slide on wet roads but was easy to correct. The rear squirmed under power but never really let loose. Overall, the bike felt dependable and easy to control.
The first six thousand miles went by without any engine problems. I changed the oil every 500 miles (there was so little of the stuff it wasn't expensive). I checked the valves at each oil change in the beginning but they never needed any work so I soon gave that up. The single carb only offered tickover adjustment - it needed at least 1500 revs to stop the engine cutting out whilst waiting at junctions.
The first hassle was heavy oil consumption - a litre every 200 miles. The oil ring was worn out. Not cheap to replace as I had to buy a gasket set to obtain the necessary gaskets for the top end as well as a new piston ring. The motor was easy to work on, save that both exhaust clamp screws broke off rather than coming undone! There's always something that goes wrong when stripping old engines. I drilled them out and Araldited some studs in.
I took it easy for 200 miles to let the ring settle in. Sometimes the wear is so bad in the bore that a new ring won't set properly, but the KL responded to my tender treatment by refusing to smoke and running along as normal.
By then I'd become quite attached to the little bugger. This had a lot to with the way it would reliably start first kick even when covered with a layer of snow. The only time it failed to come to life was when the spark plug was more than 5000 miles old. It would become a most reluctant starter then.
Much to the pleasure of my wallet the bike ran for another 9000 miles without incurring any major expenses. Then it started wobbling and weaving all over the road. The swinging arm was so loose the drive chain fell off, locked up the rear wheel, causing the KL to skid off the road. Its only bit of trail work in my hands. Bent bars and dented front rim were the result.
The swinging arm was seized in solidly, took a whole week of thumping with increasingly large hammers before it came out with a large bang. It was so rusted and pitted that not even an old miser like myself could justify putting it back in. A quite common malaise (new bits are not cheap so check before you buy).
Back on the road I noted that the engine was running a bit rougher than normal. Vibes had not been a great annoyance, now they hit the bars and pegs from about 5500rpm onwards, I grinned and lived with it as it would still put a useful 80mph on the clock.
A more chronic problem was the lighting, the alternator barely adequate for simultaneously running the lights and engine. Often, in town, hitting the puny horn with the lights on would cause the mill to cut out. Out of town riding required a car to tag along behind. The lights were so bad that I never rode any distance in the dark.
The exhaust looked like it had been constructed out of three different pipes welded together by a half blind apprentice with his mind somewhere else. It says a lot about the tolerance of the motor that it ran fine without any flat-spots or suicidal inclinations towards holing pistons. The police and MOT tester were somewhat less tolerant but I got away without a fine or fail.
The bike had been resprayed many times, most of the chrome replaced with matt black paint. It didn't look like it had just come out of a showroom, but neither did it cause passing plod to do a rapid U-turn and make with the notebook. I kept patching it up where necessary but as another 5000 miles piled up I knew it was only a matter of time until the engine finally failed.
When oil went down to a 100 miles a litre and top speed became a hand numbing 62mph I knew its nemesis was at hand. A dropped valve whacked the piston, bits of steel and alloy running around the engine until the gearbox locked up solid. I was only doing 25mph at the time and controlled the skid with ease.
I still have the chassis, awaiting a replacement engine. The old mill was a complete write-off internally; even the main bearings were on their way out. I don't know how many times the motor was rebuilt or how many miles it had done in total, but I thought 20,000 miles in under a year of hard use was pretty good going for such an old bike. I'm impressed enough to be actively looking for a good KL motor.
Mitch
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You don't see too many Kawasaki Z250Ltd's on the road and many a cynic might dismiss them as a last ditch effort to sell remaining stocks of the OHC Z250 single cylinder engine. I'd bought mine from a misguided commuter who thought it an ideal way to come back to motorcycling but found the handling and the dense London traffic incompatible with his aged reflexes. It had been properly run-in, dedicatedly polished and serviced, and was in extremely good condition. He had fitted a huge windscreen to keep the worst of the weather off.
Being little over five foot tall, I was thankful for the extremely low seat height and minimal mass. The electric starter was a useful bonus on a bike that was so basic it had a drum front brake, not too elegantly fitted inside the cast wheel. The bike was a curious mix of the practical and the flash which appealed to my sense of eccentricity.
This went for the running as well. One of the things that had annoyed the first owner was cutting out at low revs in traffic. I experienced this problem several times myself. It usually fired up rapidly on the starter but occasionally refused to start for a few minutes. It felt like a minor breakdown of the ignition or fuel starvation. Raising the tickover eliminated the effect, but left the whole bike thrumming at about 2000rpm.
The Z250's engine goes back to the elemental Z200, shares most of its basic design. There are lots of virtues derived from straightforward engineering, of which I am generally in favour, but smoothness was never one of them. As someone who has actually ridden a Tiger Cub, I can say with some authority that the Ltd's level of vibration was never really destructive. Coming from a straight four, though, it'd probably make you throw up! After a couple of weeks in the saddle, the vibes ceased to be much of an irritant as my body became used to the level of abuse. By the definition of real motorcyclists that meant the Z250Ltd didn't vibrate!
Real motorcyclists were not too impressed with the pseudo chopper looks but it was really only the huge if comfortable seat and ape-hangers that were part of the custom shape. Those handlebars were a bit of a pain as they left my arms too high and too widely splayed, although the windscreen took care of the air blast. The footrests were well placed in relation to the bars, the seat plushly padded and the suspension capable of absorbing most bumps. I found the bike easy to ride in town and capable of cruising at up to 70mph. The naked bike might've been capable of 80 or 85mph but with the windscreen giving the machine the aerodynamics of a tank there was no way I could extract more than 75mph.
Putting a pillion on the back took the edge off performance and left them towering over me in a most disconcerting manner, due to the combination of my lack of stature and the stepped seat. Handling also became rather imprecise with a heavy pillion ruining weight distribution. Solo, despite the custom style and OE Jap tyres, the low centre of gravity made it both stable and easy to throw about. The tyres hardly seemed to wear at all, figure 20,000 miles!
The rest of the consumables were pretty good, too. With 19000 miles on the clock the original brake shoes are still there and it's on the second chain. Fuel was reasonable, ranging from 75 to 93mpg. It was worst being run along at 70mph and best at a steady 50mph. Town commuting gave dead on 80mpg. With low cost road tax and insurance (I'm over forty years old) there were few cheaper ways of getting around or commuting.
The exhaust was one of those quick rot jobs that I spent many an unpleasant weekend patching up. It rotted where the silencer met the downpipe initially but the corrosion quickly spread to the whole of the downpipe and then patches of rust appeared on the silencer. One of the craziest things in the world is making pipes out of mild steel. I really think that the government should make all new bikes wear stainless steel pipes and fine anyone who changes them a couple of grand. That would solve the noise problem overnight. Most noisy bikes are that way because the owners can't afford to pay the silly prices for new exhaust systems, either leaving them to rot or putting on a universal mega. I chose the latter. Luckily, the Z250 ran fine with the new shiny silencer. A sure sign of its very lowly tuned status.
What the motor didn't like was a clogged up air filter, it sulked at low revs and didn't want to run above 6000rpm. I tried running it without the filter but the engine wouldn't even start. A couple of holes in the old filter sorted it but there was a slight glitch in the taller gears around 5000 revs but I could live with that as the alternative was spending my money!
Something I couldn't avoid was a new spark plug every 2500 miles. The engine wouldn't start if this was ignored but at least there was only one plug and it was easily accessible. Even so, I nearly cross-threaded the plug once when my attention was distracted by next door's dog head butting the wooden fence. Ever since I fitted the mega the dog had gone berserk every time he saw me. I always used a little bit of grease on the plug thread after that.
The only other starting problem I had was with the electric motor not working properly. It sounded like the battery was dying but turned out to be the relay sticking - a few taps with my trusty hammer freed it up. I later put some Vaseline on the outer surface and contacts to keep the water out.
The relay problem occurred after a day flinging the Kawasaki through the Cotswolds, accompanied by typical English summer weather - a howling gale and rain so heavy I could hardly see through it. The Japanese tyres had trouble keeping their grip every time I leaned over, feeling very skittish but there was no point riding rapidly as visibility was minimal. The screen kept most of the water off my upper body but the water whipped around the edges, concentrating on my thighs and groin.
Heavy sidewinds flapped the front end about quite wildly at times, the whole bike being thrown across the road until I grappled with the bars and banked over into the wind. Every time an obstruction cut off the wind, the Kawasaki wobbled as it went out of equilibrium. These were extreme circumstances. More normally, the Z250 was reasonably stable, only being thrown about by the larger bumps. It was, after all, so light that it could easily be pulled back on line.
That reasonable stability did the usual disappearing act when the swinging arm bearings started to go. I always had to adjust the chain every 250 to 300 miles and took that opportunity to check the back end. No great problem changing the swinging arm bearings, but when the fault turns up 500 miles from home the ride back turns out rather annoying. I was down to 20mph by the time I finally wobbled up to the house. The rear wheel bearings didn't have a bit of grease in them, were pitted and cracked, so a new set was knocked in as well.
The seven spoke cast wheels were easy to keep clean, the black finish not flaking off and the alloy bits responding to a polish. Indeed, the whole bike responded well to a cleaning session once every two weeks. I'd taken off the exhaust downpipe and rubbed down the rust, spraying on some hi-tech teflon type paint my brother had borrowed from work (it's used in the aerospace industry) which actually bonded better the hotter the exhaust became rather than falling off, which was the norm with most heat resistant paints. With the new silencer, even the exhaust system looked the business.
Because it looked so shiny I had quite a few people come up to me to see if I wanted to sell the bike. I didn't but pretended to be open to offers - the best I had was £950! That put me in a good mood as it was more than I paid for the Kawasaki a few years before. It made a pleasant change from buying bikes that seemed to lose a third of their value overnight. I like the Z250Ltd a lot, think it's a neat motorcycle within the limits of its size and type.
Martin Boroughs
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The problem with having a 1985 Kawasaki Z200 and wanting to travel into the depths of Europe, was that people on massive tourers would come up to me and laugh in my face at my choice of machine. I warded them off by quoting the pertinent figures - 20hp, 80mph and 100mpg! Telling them my yearly running costs were less than what they'd spend on new tyres in a couple of months. They couldn't take this insolence, screaming about cruising at 100mph in total comfort on German autobahns. Fair enough, but anyone with more brain than a mental retard would travel south, searching for the sun.
That was this road rat's game plan, anyway, and I would brook no snide comments from prats on plastic coated wanking machines! I'd fitted a proper silencer to my bike, so I could revel in the bellow, which at 70mph had a sultry note that tried to convince me I should go no faster. The utterly straightforward motor would trundle in with some more vibes as added persuasion not to do more than 75mph whilst the exhaust had become a deafening bellow. Turbulence from the chain came in at 80mph and the chassis felt like it was at the end of its tether.
Those were sufficient hints to cause me to back off down to 70mph, a speed the trusty steed would maintain against most obstacles. Its well run in engine, with 18000 miles of abuse at the start of the trip, was so well designed that extended riding at such a speed turned in 90 to 100mpg; a miser's dream and a road rat's prayer delivered.
If there was one thing that would've undone me it'd have been an expensive bike to run. The Z200 kept amazing me at how little money was needed to keep it going. The chain was the only moot point but an O-ring upgrade at a giveaway price from a breaker helped a lot. I would've preferred full chain enclosure to extend life further than the 12000 miles I managed, but I totally failed to convert a CD175 enclosure I'd robbed off a friend's blown machine.
Rumbling along hour after hour a machine has to be comfortable. The Z left something to be desired in the seat area, which as well as being very hard after 50 miles soaked up water and retained it for weeks afterwards. A secondhand king and queen seat was adapted, insulated from the frame using some rubber. It ruined the functional appearance of the Kawasaki, but was so comfortable it was good for 400 hundred miles in a day. The deeply sculptured pillion perch provided the ideal location for tent, sleeping bag and clothes. There was also a rack but I didn't put much weight on that as I tended to avoid having the front wheel waggling around all over the place. Thicker handlebar grips and footrest rubbers also aided comfort.
The wheels were cast, a definite bonus point given the weight I was carrying and the quite frequent off-road runs to find a good camping site. The brakes were somewhat basic drums that were definitely lacking power when I was playing silly buggers on fast roads with French or Italian cagers. The latter went into a total frenzy when they didn't get their own way. I often had to use the light mass and resulting ease with which it would change direction to avoid accidents rather than relying on the brakes.
I'd fitted a new cable and shoes on the front, but it still wasn't up to the standard of discs I've used on old 125s. By far the worst time I had was coming down near vertical Alps with wild hairpin bends. The good engine braking helped a little, but by the time I was back on level ground the brakes were glowing hot and there was no retardation left in them until they'd had a chance to cool down overnight. Going up the mountains, I often ended up in first gear, the whole bike shuddering as it slowly ascended the near vertical inclines. The exhaust note was incredibly deep as the engine fought against elements its designers had not envisaged. The thin air did not help, off throttle it was coughing like an asthmatic. The only harm that such abuse inflicted on the engine was an unsavoury thirst for oil; it once went through five pints in a day!
I was leaving oil changes to every 1500 miles, a bit dangerous on an old Jap but as it was used on the open road I felt the lubricant was less likely to degrade than in stop-go commuting. In normal use it needed a pint every 200 miles. The mill was completely oil tight, but a bit of lubricant dribbled on to the ground as I'd rerouted the engine breather on to the chain. It was one less chore to do.
Sustained use of the Z200 revealed a couple of weak spots. The exhaust downpipe cracked (repaired in a quaint little Milan workshop). The indicators went berserk (a car control box was fitted). The carb fuel bowl fell off when the wire that retained it broke, resulting in an engine drenched in petrol that only just avoided going from simmering to blazing (repaired using a wire coat-hanger).
The pillion pegs fell off and were never replaced but the silencer bounced off the bike when the left-hand peg went as they shared the same bolt. An incredible noise resulted but I pulled over, ran back to where the silencer was lying in the road and kicked in out of the way just before a Frog cage could crush it. The furious driver swerved at me as I leapt for the ditch. He missed me by inches but got his revenge by knocking the Z off its sidestand into the ditch. In a furious burst of adrenalin I rushed after him, waving the hot silencer, but he squealed away before I could reach him. The silencer was battered but intact.
One time I rode the bike off the road when the back tyre blew. My own fault as I was running it in a bald state to save money, although it had lasted for more than 20,000 miles. When the tyre went, the chassis responded by throwing a massive wobble which had the bars going from lock to lock, the bike going completely out of control at 40mph.
We ended up bouncing into a stream and then skidding on the slippery stones. Just my luck to get drenched. I was worrying about the cuts turning septic! The high banks made it impossible to ride out of the river, so after filling the tyre with Finilec and getting the Z to start again I had no choice but to ride along very slowly with both feet down. After falling off three times and riding for about half an hour I was finally able to get out of the water. The river had veered off from the road, so I had to bounce over a field and fight my way through some undergrowth to get back on to tarmac. I was not amused, I can tell you, but the tough Kawasaki shrugged it off.
One sidepanel flew off and was never seen again, but I'd ignored the cracks that had appeared in it. The underside of the petrol tank started to leak petrol. I removed it, gave it a few gentle taps and was left with a couple of massive holes and a pair of jeans that were covered in fuel. I tore them off just as a mini-bus full of Italian men came along and I had sudden visions of being gang-raped but they tore off after a chorus of cat-calls and horn blowing. That was how the bike ended up with a four gallon Benelli tank and the seat moved back three inches. This was a new tank so I hoped that the famous Wop rusting tendencies would be avoided for a few more years.
The new riding position was rather painful after a 100 miles so I ended up putting some pegs on the pillion mounts, cutting down the brake lever and turning the gear lever around. It gave a mild crouch that went better with the flat bars than the old set up but I had some problems remembering that the gears worked in the opposite direction. I once locked up the back wheel, a massive 50 yard skid resulted until I remembered to pull the clutch lever in - my only excuse was that I'd done 375 fast miles before it happened and was dog tired.
It's when long distances are travelled that the true abilities of a bike are revealed. The only thing I could find to complain about was that the clutch and gearbox became a bit ropy, with some drag and quite a lot of missed changes. On the open road it didn't really matter, as the bike was left in fifth for most of the time, but ending the day in town it was quite easy to stall or go into wheelie mode when the box suddenly clicked home and the clutch engaged. When it happened like that, I usually ended up screaming in frustration and going along with the new found trajectory of the Z.
That was a small price to pay for a bike that has now done 42000 miles, is still on its original piston, bore, camchain and tensioner. 1500 mile service sessions take less than half an hour. The poor old bike but very rarely gets a proper clean. It's not worth the effort, as a day's riding would mess it all up again and, anyway, its current state is a good way of discouraging thieves.
To get back to where we started, there are any number of bigger bikes that will cruise along at much faster velocities, better the comfort and take the more difficult roads with a lot less effort, but they all cost far too much for me to contemplate - both with regards to initial purchase price and running costs. The only income I have is doing odd jobs as I travel across Europe, the only thing I can think that would be cheaper than the Z would be a bicycle; that would be too much hard work for this road rat.
Dave Williams
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The bike buckled a little as we ran across the roundabout but it was so light and narrow that I maintained control. I don't normally take the shortest route through roundabouts but the sudden convergence of a couple of cages left me with little choice. The grass was slightly damp but the knobblies held a reasonable line. We were only doing 30mph, some of that speed gradually lost as I shut off the throttle and the increased resistance of the foot high grass began to bite.
The cages were still playing silly buggers. Squealing wheels in first or second, the engines screaming so that my eardrums were threatened. I glanced over at them, not that surprised to see midget sized kids, swilling beer, barely able to see over the steering wheels. They charged out of the roundabout, going wild on the horn when they made a pensioner jump back on the pavement, falling right over and showing the world her bloomers.
As I hit terra firma again I was gobsmacked to find a plod vehicle wailing out of a side turning and trying to run me off the road. When I pointed out the antics of the car thieves, which they must've been blind not to see, they merely said it was policy not to chase such people as it could cause serious accidents. And, anyway, I could hardly talk about breaking the law, using the roundabout as a trail course, could I? I was left clutching the ticket, amazed that they had been so annoyed with my lack of tax disc when so much criminal madness was going down nearby.
Phew! Got that lot of anger off my chest! Where were we? The KLR 250's a spiffing little bike that's quite nifty off-road. I use it for shooting through the local woods, not just for kicks it's also a short cut that saves ten minutes on the tarmac alternative. Some of the trees are dying, probably the effect of acid rain, the track littered with fallen branchs and odd whole tree trunk. The KLR gets up on the back wheel with little effort and when confronted by the more massive tree can be slid sideways with a twitch of the body and touch of the rear drum brake.
The only thing to watch out for is wet leaves when the invariably worn out knobblies will try to slide in different directions. Deeply corrugated MX boots hurriedly hitting the track are usually enough to save the 260lb hack from losing it all. Most of the bike is well tucked in, hitting the earth only likely to crack the plastic around the radiator or bounce the bendy front mudguard. It doesn't like riding along river beds, though, the spray will cause the thumper engine to stutter or completely cut out.
The '87 motor still puts out most of its claimed 28 horses at 9000 revs, although it did have one serious rebuild just before 30,000 miles. The engine's quite an advanced unit, watercooled, four valves and DOHC's, it'll rev to about ten grand but run quite freely at low revs.
One thing you shouldn't do is fit a non-standard exhaust as the carburation goes to pot, with flat spots between 4000 and 7000 revs and an engine with the same kind of power as a C90 at 9000 revs. I spent a small fortune on carb jets and airfilters to no effect whatsoever. This is bad news as I found that exhausts rust through after as little as two years. Welding metal over the holes helps for about a further year but by the time the baffles have rusted right through the bike's become very poor running.
Another chronic problem is the Uni-track bearings. Off-road abuse, with all the associated gunge that attacks them, means a strip and grease every three months with new seals mandatory. Even with that care I've never had the bearings last for more than a year. It almost makes me yearn for the old fashioned twin shock set-up. Almost because despite its wear problems the back end, with damping and springing turned up high to compensate for wear, always felt secure and controllable however mad the riding. Such are the mixed blessings of progress.
The air adjustable front forks are still running on the original seals even with 48000 miles on the clock. This thanks to the bright red gaiters, although these crack up after a couple of years and can usefully be replaced with superior aftermarket items. The ten inches of travel does mean they are a bit vague at speed, with the large guard catching the air and throwing the bars about if the motor's thrashed hard enough to put more than 80mph on the clock.
The ultimate top speed's 90mph. If I went for taller gearing it might even touch the ton. Vibration's always present but it's not so bad that it makes me back off or becomes tiresome on a long ride. When the rings were worn out the vibes became frenzied. By the time I'd stripped the engine down the bore, piston, rings, camchain, tensioner and valves all needed attention. Good used bits from a breaker were available cheaply so I went that route rather than getting into serious engineering. The motor was fairly easy to tear apart and light enough to carry into the comfort of the house, although the sump full of lubricant that somehow congealed on the hall carpet didn't go down too well with she who must be obeyed.
Road work's a varied bag. In town the 34 inch seat height gives a useful view over the top of stalled cars and it's dead easy to sneak through the lines of auto's. It's certainly fast enough to roar off from junctions way ahead of the cages and the suspension makes even the most intense pothole feel like a minor surface aberration. I didn't like the front disc much, though, as it lacked feel and would howl the tyre in the wet with no warning. The resulting slides enlivened the ride to work at times but I usually tried to combine the rear drum with a bit of engine braking.
The KLR was also jolly good fun through the back roads, where it could be leant right over until the tread started to deform. Fast turning as it was, the tighter the bends the better. I had great fun annoying normal motorcyclists on big multi's who'd find me sneaking inside their line, forcing them to head for the apex of the road and an involuntary game of chicken with oncoming traffic.
Of course, any kind of straight would see just about everyone blasting off into the distance, leaving me shaking in their wake. I found the Kawasaki incredibly boring on motorways as it didn't have the guts to safely make it out of the slow lane. Braking late into bends was also a no-no, unless you actually liked a locked up front end that sent the bike way wide.
Most of my riding was either town work or off-road. The limitations were no great thing until I took the bike touring. The 120 mile range from the two gallon main tank, with fuel around 60mpg, was limiting but no more so than the uncomfortable seat. I quickly gave up the planned route, amused myself by doing 200 to 300 miles a day down winding, bumpy country roads.
The lights made night riding dangerous but after a day in the saddle I was more interested in finding a pub or disco than hustling the KLR. After a couple of years I was inspired by a Paris Dakar racer that sported three huge headlights..... these were powered by a large car battery in the top-box. With about 200 watts of power suddenly switched on it caused the cagers to scatter and gave a clear view down the road for about a mile. Brilliant, in every sense of the word! They didn't last long because the bulbs kept blowing due to the vibration. It was good while it lasted.
The KLR's very versatile, then, up to most things that don't involve licence endangering speeds. If I was buying another one I'd definitely check the engine out with a compression tester, especially if there was more than 20,000 miles on the clock. There are a few good engines in breakers so if you come across a blown one, which is quite common, then there's the possibility of doing a cheap renovation.
The chassis is generally tough, just a matter of replacing the bearings when they wear out. The electrics were solid enough if not inspiring, the caliper only needed two rebuilds and the exhaust is the only bit likely to be affected by serious corrosion.
As an alternative to the more mundane commuters they make a lot of sense. Prices start at about £200 for a rat that needs loads of attention but it's probably better to buy a good one for around a grand that will have a few years life left in it. When mine gets to 50,000 miles I'm going to fit a newish motor.
H.L.
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What I needed was a cheap hack for the winter commuting toils. I was verging on buying an MZ 250 but couldn't quite bring myself to go the two stroke route. The only other thing to turn up for 200 notes was an early KL250 Kawasaki trail bike. I knew absolutely nothing about the machine but it started first kick, made a nice noise and didn't smoke.
The next day the bugger refused to start. I almost killed myself trying a bump start to absolutely no avail. The spark plug was easily accessible but refused to pull out. After tapping the plug spanner with a hammer it started to creak out then twirled around rapidly. The thread was stripped, had been repaired with Araldite or something. I had to take the head off to have a helicoil done.
The problem with disturbing old engines is that it invariably reveals ever more problems. The camshaft ran in the cylinder head and was more than a touch loose, the rockers had lost their hardening and there was a dirty big crack running through the combustion chamber. I refused to remove the barrel because if there was more damage I'd just chuck the whole lot in the nearest canal.
Phoning around breakers it became evident that nearly every KL250 in the country had a dubious top end. I felt greatly relieved to find a decent one for sale privately for forty notes. I put it all back together and it still refused to start! By then we were halfway through the winter!
The problem turned out to be the coil. A car one didn't work so I had to get on the phone again to the breakers - prices ranged from £5 to £15! After that was fixed starting turned out to be good even in January when the bike was covered in snow. The twee drum brakes were wonderfully sensitive on iced roads but useless for pulling down the speed from above 40mph, they just faded away to nothing. No fun!
The riding position gave great control at town speeds but left me completely at the mercy of rain, snow and hale. It was the quickest way known to man to become frozen and soaked through. Also, the mudguards did absolutely nothing to help protect the bike from the road grime. Not that I cared as it was already a bit faded and worn, the grit just adding to its character.
After two weeks it started cutting out in traffic. I approached the spark plug full of fear and loathing, but it twirled out easily. A new spark plug helped but there was still some intermittent cutting out. Somewhere in its basic electrical system there was a loose wire or partial breakdown of the circuit. The switches turned out to be corroded and the wire's insulation falling off.
I rewired the ignition circuit, leaving out all the connectors and retaining just a single hidden switch. That stopped the cutting out but led to the lights blowing whenever they were used. They were pretty pathetic at the best of times and were cured with direct earth connections to the tiny battery. The horn never worked and there were no indicators.
It was quite capable up to 50mph, thereafter lots of vibes churned in. I was surprised that the buzzing was so intense on such a small bike (later engines had a balancer) but it was no great loss because of the lack of brakes. Engine bolts came loose after a month, the motor leaping about in a frenzy until they were tightened up again.
I thought the chassis was rather good for an old hack. The single down-tube frame was plenty tough enough and the suspension travel sufficient for taking the worst of the council's neglect. The bike had an easy going feel that never strained my body in any way, although I thought the front end was a bit heavy going for a trail bike, quite difficult to pull the wheel up off the ground.
The only off-road work I did was slewing along the grass verge when one A-road I regularly used was completely blocked up with irate cagers. The back tyre wasn't very happy with the muddy terrain, coming close to whacking into the side of a car a couple of times. Both tyres had once been knobblies but were worn down to 2mm by the time I got my hands on the bike - they didn't seem to wear at all and were not particularly dangerous.
The exhaust was slowly rusting through, needing Gum-Gum shoved into the holes as they appeared and becoming louder with every passing day. It never became really offensive and I trained myself to ignore its rotted appearance. It didn't make any difference to the power delivery, even new the motor only made 20 horses.
Engine wear showed up more in the lack of fuel economy than in its performance. I was only getting 45 to 50mpg despite revving the mill like it was an old fifties thumper. Alas, there was hardly any low end torque and some transmission snatch that left the chain in a state of constant of looseness, but then it was some ancient old thing with more tight spots than the editor's wallet. It never actually broke which is the only thing to commend it that I could find.
The gearbox was a laugh a minute but I usually pottered around in third, abusing the clutch whenever it was necessary. Changing down was worse than changing up, no amount of practice had any effect on the lack of slickness. Given that the mileage was unknown and probably in excess of fifty thou, that was pretty much what you'd expect.
Come April I was happy to be back on my main machine, the rough old KL making it seem miraculously sophisticated. That lasted for less than a month - some arsehole stole it! Back on the KL until the insurance paid out on the premium. I nearly blew my top when they sent someone around to interrogate me, treating me as if I was the criminal rather than the thief. He was lucky to get out of my house without being slapped.
The KL ran a bit better in the mild weather, allowing me to take it up to sixty without going into complete self-destruct mode. At that kind of velocity the chassis did waggle around on its long travel suspension and the brakes were breathtaking in their lack of fidelity.
I kept a firm grip on the bars and managed to swerve off the road when two cagers decided it would be fun to crash into each other. By the time I'd pulled out of the skid on the grass and returned to the scene of the accident, there was a lot of screaming and an excess of blood. I felt like riding off but my higher instincts got the better of me - I applied my first aid knowledge to stop the worst of the bleeding. I reckoned I saved the cager's life but the ambulance man, when he finally arrived, suggested I was an interfering old wally! Charming!
I decided to stick to town work on the KL and take the train on long journeys. It took ten weeks for the insurance company to pay out, which was sufficient time to get the KL's main bearings rumbling away. It'd still do 50mph and I carried on until a dealer offered me £350 on a trade-in deal. I later saw the bike on offer for £500 in the showroom! I'm sure the dealer hadn't done any work on the Kawasaki because I stopped the new owner about a month later.
He reckoned that the mill had seized solid a week after purchase and the dealer refused to do anything about it, pointing out the micro-print on the receipt that said sold as seen despite the verbal offering of a three month guarantee. The owner ended up fitting an '83 engine out of a crashed bike, which he reckoned was good for 80mph. Wobbles and weaves apart, but we didn't go into that.
I can't say I was sorry to see the back of the machine. Performance was pathetic for a 250 and reliability, at least on a well used example, poor. As a town commuter it was quite useful but I'll buy an MZ next time!
D.G.
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There are only so many chances in life. When they turn up you should take them. Hence, when a mate in London phoned to say there was a good chance of gaining employment as a trainee DR, I decided to go for it. The trusty, ten year old KL250 would surely be ideal for bouncing through Central London.
Riding down to London, from Chepstow, on a sunny May weekend I was in high spirits. The 22hp thumper ran along the A-roads at 60 to 75mph, with a bit of a thrum but a nice meaty bark out of the rusty high-rise exhaust. Top speed was 80mph, too slow and boring for the M4, but throw in a few A-road bends and a mass of cages to shimmy through, and it was a whole new game.
With only 275lbs to throw around, the KL was perfectly suited to town riding. Except that when I finally hit the capital I was met with a mad frenzy of traffic and drivers who acted like they were on an awayday from the loony bin! I had to take a deep breath, hammer the throttle through the gears and join in with the madness.
Accommodation's the worst part of London life, but half a dozen DR's had grouped together to rent a house in a dingy part of Highbury and there was a room to spare. Come Monday, I hustled along to the City for the interview, coming on ultra keen and getting the job. Now I had two problems. Getting up to steam on the KL in the impossible traffic and trying to work out where I was going - my times were slow but acceptable, I was being paid so little that it didn't make much difference to the boss how quickly or slowly I worked.
When I bought the KL it had soft suspension that allowed it to waver all over the place. I soon toughened it up after a visit to the breakers for some shocks and springs. It was therefore very taut. Brilliant down the country lanes but a bit tough going over the capital's notorious pot-holes. The seat was already worn down to the base. This combination soon had my bum in agony, the only relief coming from standing on the pegs, which got me some nasty glares from the ped's.
The DR company had handed me a massive orange bib, that made me look like a giant orange. I thought, at least the cagers would see me coming if they didn't hear the defiant roar of the almost straight through exhaust. Whether they saw or heard me I don't know, but regardless they ignored my existence. I was ever thankful for the way a minor amount of muscle could twitch the Kawasaki out of harm's way.
That was the good side, the bad was the pair of SLS drum brakes. These were mild and faded heavily when used in anger a couple of times. Riding through London traffic at speed without any real brakes soon turned me into a gibbering wreck. Back at the office I bored everyone stiff with tales of crazy experiences. They'd all been there before.
The first day over, I returned home rather disenchanted. When I had my moan, the other guys came up with some goodies. K and Q seat, thick handlebar grips and an RS250 front end - what would, in a normal house, have been a dining room was a dumping ground for old bikes! The shocks had to be changed as well to match the lowered front end. A K and Q seat on a trailie looked well weird but I was assured I would feel the difference.
Didn't have time to test it out until the next day. The bike was a couple of inches lower than stock, felt really odd for the first half hour but I soon got used to it. The seat was absolutely brilliant, despite sniggers from fellow DR's. The front disc was ten times more powerful than stock. My times improved drastically and I could actually walk when I got off the bike at the end of the day.
All the continuous thrashing was already taking its toll on the mill, though. It tended to overheat and conk out after a couple of hours. It was due for an oil change, so I was a bit miffed to find that most of the oil had drained off! I also had to reset the valves - normally they'd stay within tolerances for 5000 miles.
Over the next few weeks I kept a careful eye on the engine. 200 miles would take the oil down to the minimum level and it needed the valves set every 600 miles. The vibes seemed to be getting worse, as well, and my poor old feet were going numb after a couple of hours. Despite these problems, I was soon hurtling around with the best of them, determined to graduate from learner status as soon as possible. One good point about the KL was that it cost next to nothing to run - 65mpg, 20,000 miles from the tyres, etc.
After about 4500 miles of despatching, with 29750 miles on the clock, the swinging arm bearings were shot. They may well have been original fare. I'd never greased them, or anything. This happened two-thirds of the way through the day, loaded up with urgent deliveries - like a hero I decided to ignore the loose back end. By the end of the day there was about two inches of movement at the rear wheel. The spindle was bent and the bearings broken up. I was forced to ride home at 10mph! Luckily, it was Friday, so I had the whole weekend to sort the bike out.
Despite the nice sunny weather the rest of the bike was looking well worn. Scratches and dents from when the KL had lost it all, either hitting cars or the tarmac, had sprouted rust which quickly spread to the surrounding metal. I ignored it, ended up with a hole in the petrol tank. I was very lucky to find a breaker with a good tank.
With a few months experience, I changed firms to earn some serious money as a proper DR rather than a learner. I was occasionally allowed out on one of their VT500's, which had already gone around the clock but still ran rather better than my KL, although it needed much more muscle to hustle. I decided to clean the Kawasaki up and move on to something bigger.
The weekend after I finished getting the sheen back into the KL, I crashed the VT. Or rather a car whacked into me. Broken ankle, crumpled VT. The result was that I was sacked and unable to work. These nineteenth century working conditions the downside to despatch riding.
I kept cleaning up the KL as a form of therapy. I had managed to clear a few thousand notes, so it wasn't the end of the world. When I was able to ride without nasty pains shooting up my leg, I decided to escape the coming winter by taking the KL to Spain. The Channel Tunnel was fun - all the other bikes were very expensive rep's and tourers, the tatty KL looking totally out of place.
The KL slowly meandered along the French coast, taking side routes when the urge arose. I fell in love with Nice, ended up in studio apartment and working in a bar in the night. Not much money as it was out of season but enough to live on. Marvellous food, wine and women. Couldn't think of any reason to go back to the UK.
By then the KL was up to 38000 miles. The top end was tapping away ferociously. I decided to take the head off. The valves had sunk into the cylinder head and the bore was heavily scored. Couldn't find any breakers in Nice, had to get a mate in London to post me out the bits - cheap enough but it takes a bit of effort to track them down.
The rest of the engine's okay now I've put it back together. The gearchange's always needed some art and it still vibrates, but if you don't want to go crazy on the speed side, it's more than adequate for most other needs and ideal for slashing around town with a few minor mods.
Andrew Meeson
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