Copyright (c) 2008 GoodMotorcycles.com
Having written off my GPZ500 when a car driver tried to kill me, I was in desperate need of some new wheels. The bike had to be faster than the GPZ, nearly new, run along with minimal maintenance and absolute reliability. To cut short a long story of deception and decadence that almost had me reaching for the shotgun in desperation and dismay, I ended up with a one year old FZ750 with 5000 miles on the clock, fsh and immaculate condition, that only cost £3250 because the vendor was desperate for some quick cash.
For various reasons the 750 has not figured largely in the motorcycle consciousness, its virtues hidden by a large array of sporting 600s and mega-muscle litre bikes. But a look at its spec sheet would show that it has a lot to offer. Any bike that produces 105hp and only weighs 485lbs has to contain a hell of a lot of potential fun. Yamaha also build their five valve per cylinder motors to a very high standard - they can be thrashed long and hard and still come up shining.
First impressions, then. Even at low speeds the bike feels very light yet reassuringly stable. Not quite so easy to chuck around at low speeds it compensated by feeling more secure at slightly higher speeds. The grip from the almost new and commendably fat Metzs felt most reassuring.
Up to 5000rpm, power was adequate rather than startling, from that point on it builds up rapidly, until by 8000rpm the motor was really into its powerband and my first attempt at a second gear roll on had my neck snapped back, arms stretched out of their sockets and the tacho needle in the red before I had a change to knock it up a gear. Oh yes, this was going to be fun!
The one bug-bear with the FZ (and FZRs come to that) is the gearbox. Mine was a particularly notchy item between second and third, and third and fourth, although I have never actually missed a change. The GPZ500 box had never been perfect, but five minutes on the Yamaha soon convinced me that I had been over critical of the Kawasaki. A change to high quality oil helped a little, and I find I have to do this every 1000 miles to maintain an acceptable change. I talked to one FZ owner who said his gears broke up on him, but the bike did have around 92,500 miles on the clock!
The FZ does not share the ridiculous race replica riding position of the FZRs, it offers a very much more comfortable compromise. I soon found that it was nearly as good as the GPZ, only a little wrist ache after an hour of charging around London spoilt the picture. Just like the Kawasaki, the screen and fairing offer inadequate protection in bad weather, although I was left quite relaxed after extended autobahn cruising at 120mph - even at that speed I kept getting buzzed by huge German autos. One race saw the speedo hit 160mph, although in reality top speed of the FZ is a mere (mere!) 150mph.
The seat was not perfect. Okay for about 150 miles in a day, the one time I did 600 miles, the foam flattened out and both my thighs and backside ended up extremely sore. It was difficult to stand up straight for half an hour, although I soon recovered and by the next day was raring to go again.
It's a little buzzy around 70 to 80mph in top gear, which in the UK is rather annoying, but beyond that it smoothes out nicely. Even at its worst, vibration does not intrude to the extent where it produces any bodily effects and not one bulb, in 20,000 miles over eight months, blew. Pillion comfort was good, but then my girlfriend is on the small size and does not end up perched above me despite the stepped seat. The one time I took a taller mate on the back, he was perched far above me and had an adverse effect on the handling at low speeds. A slight disinclination to lean over meant that some corners degenerated into a wobbly mess.
Handling is better than the GPZ. Just as easy to chuck through corners it has even better stability than the Kawasaki. I felt I could take my hands off the bars at 120mph and not fear the slightest weave. Admittedly, I never did do that, but after riding various British bikes as well as many Japanese multis, I can say that the Yamaha is up there amongst the best.
Considering that the power output is so high, even whacking open the throttle when well leant over in a bend, in say second or third, fails to throw the chassis. Suspension was a reasonable compromise between tautness and comfort, although it could be a bit more biased in favour of the former to my mind, for at times a series of closely spaced bumps would not allow the suspension time to recover.
Under extreme braking from the twin discs there was a bit of fork twisting but even this gave little hint of upsetting the chassis. Under extreme, mad, insane riding, taking bends much faster than was really possible the front wheel would start to walk away from its proper line and the bike gave the impression that at any moment it was going to fall flat on its side.
Most people will never experience this, it only appeared when I was chasing a mate on a hopped up GSXR1100 through some particularly fast bends. It might be possible, by changing the tyres or altering the suspension, to eliminate this trait, but it was such a rare occurrence that I never bothered.
The whole side was let down, though, by fork seal demise at a mere 9000 miles. It took me a whole weekend and two attempts to fit the new seals. Total lack of availability of fork gaiters in the local bike shops (what a bunch of wankers) meant I had to bung it all back together with some decent grease and hope for the best. 16000 miles later there were no apparent problems.
With 25000 miles on the clock the rear shock is well shagged and lets the bike pogo a bit over rough going. Rather like an old Ducati 450 I once had the misfortune to own a long time ago, despite all the movement the bike sticks to its line as if it was glued to the road. Impressive. The front forks work as well as when I got the bike. Much to my surprise, despite not stripping the mono-shock linkages down, there is no sign of wear there or in the swinging arm bearings. In fact, the only thing to let down the rear end of the bike is the disc brake.
Perhaps I had been spoilt by the rear drum brake on the Kawasaki, which never required any attention and worked perfectly. To start with the disc felt wooden and in the wet I did some quite spectacular skids when I applied too much pressure in hurried stops, which reminded me of my early attempts at mastering an FS1E. Luckily, the FZ always had a greater tendency towards stability than falling over, coming back into line the instant pressure was released on the rear brake lever.
Like a good little boy, I drained off the brake fluid and carefully bled the system of air after I bunged some new fluid in. This improved the level of rear end braking to that achieved by a sixties C50, just, but after a week the lack of feedback returned and so did the lurid rear wheel slides. Luckily, stability under just the use of the front brake is good so little use was made of the rear disc; I gave it up as a bad job. Perhaps thanks to the low centre of gravity engendered by the engine layout, transfer of weight under heavy braking, using just the front discs, was minimal.
After about 4000 miles the whole back brake assembly had seized up solid. This might be acceptable on a 50,000 mile CX but on a nearly new bike with less than 10,000 miles on the clock was totally ridiculous. A lot of swearing allowed disassembly of the caliper. It was just a matter of cleaning up, greasing and reassembly.
Even though I thereafter used the back brake a couple of times on every occasion I took the bike out, after less than 5000 miles the caliper seized up again. I just left it there to rot away after that - I began to understand just why the editor expends so much fury on modern bikes equipped with rear discs.
The FZ gets its handling and stability from a relatively old fashioned rectangular section frame coupled with a low centre of gravity resulting from the top half of the engine being inclined forward. I have no objection to this type of frame when it works as well as it does in the FZ. I see no point in alloy frames as they are invariably built of such a huge section that they weigh more than the steel chassis. After all, Dresda were knocking out perfectly adequate tubular steel frames that helped knock as much as 25% off the mass of standard Jap 750s of the seventies. Japanese technology and knowledge has advanced over the years to the point where they can mass produce steel frames that are a match in terms of strength and weight to what the special builders are making. It will be some time until the best of alloy frames will match the best of steel in terms of strength and mass in production machines. The welding is still pretty naff, though.
The Yamaha engine has been a paragon of reliability. The carbs have stayed in balance, the spark plugs have not been touched, the ignition has never produced a hint of misfire and the valves have not been altered in 20,000 miles - the bike had a full service just before I bought it and I've checked the valves twice, both times all clearances were within limits. Despite the high revs, the valves are so light that they must produce minimal wear. The guy who blew his gearbox reckons he was still on his original camchain, so this is one tough cookie.
The trick five valve heads are not so clever when it comes to fuel economy. It's quite easy to achieve 50mpg and still have a lot of fun. Very fast cruising gets it down to 40mpg and one particular 100 miles of total insanity, which saw the bike sandwiched between two Porsches, returned 33mpg - but the speedo never went below 145mph. I averaged 48mpg over the 20,000 miles, with a best of 62mpg when I took a very nervous girl on the back for a 200 mile run - she grabbed hold of a very sensitive piece of my anatomy and squeezed hard whenever I went above 30mph!
Starting was always reliable but a trifle cold blooded from an early morning start. The fuel consumption never made me think of the bike as particularly lean in carburation, but from cold it refused to idle at 1000rpm for at least a minute, the tacho hovering around three grand with the choke on and yours truly wondering how long the cam bearings would last under such treatment. Three times the engine refused to start when still hot, but once it had cooled off came to life at the first press of the button.
Tyre wear was terrible. I had thought the GPZ500 bad enough but getting only 3000 miles from the rear Metz, admittedly under hard use, was just not acceptable. The handling degenerated rapidly if you tried to use the tyres with less than 2mm of tread on them, the bike doing a full tilt 120mph speed wobble that I only survived by whacking on the brakes. Yes, stupid, anyway, to ride a bike on worn out tyres but my finances had entered a period of, er, consolidation. Rumours abounded of the bike not handling well on cheap tyres so I fitted a new set of Metzs to placate the gods.
The O-ring chain lasted 10,000 miles but was an extreme pain to fit, lacking any kind of split link. This is not a critism of just the FZ, but this did nothing for either my temper or my bloodied knuckles. I was shocked to find that the pattern O-ring chain I fitted only lasted 6000 miles. Electrics were trouble free except for the battery, which became temperamental after only 15000 miles; replacement cured the problem, albeit expensively.
The machine is equipped with a neat set of easily readable instruments, including both a temperature and fuel gauge. Unfortunately, the latter, at 21500 miles, decided to go crazy and rather than give an indication of the fuel remaining, it flicked back and forth across the gauge in tune with the rev counter. This was no great loss, as it had never been very accurate. A few thousand miles later the neutral indicator failed - this did matter as the gear selection action was so vague that I never had a clear idea of whether neutral was in fact engaged.
The overall appearance of the bike was pleasing to the eye but ruined by dreadful choice of graphics and colour. I had my bike resprayed by a mate in the auto trade, BMW cream white. I find riding a white bike with a white helmet a great safety aid because the car drivers often think you are a member of the police force and shift out of the way; instances of drivers attempting homicidal manoeuvres become minimal.
Paint finish varied from reasonable to excellent. The GRP crazed mildly around its mountings, the black exhaust paint peeled off (after 20,000 miles) but the frame paint looked as good as new, although I did spend a couple of hours every weekend polishing up the beast. The wheels were commendably easy to clean after some bikes I've owned, although I had no idea how the insides of the hollow section wheels fared.
By the time I sold the bike, with 25000 miles on the clock, the twin front discs looked suspiciously thin and howled under useage, I had to repair a crack in the sidepanel, the gearchange linkage was so loose it was impossible to engage gears at times, the clutch was showing signs of slip under extreme stress and both speedo and tacho simultaneously stopped working.
These combined with sudden financial disaster meant the FZ had to go. I had enjoyed almost every mile I had done on the bike, been sent to the heights of exhilaration by its handling and acceleration and impressed by the excellence of its engine design. But the running costs were killing me, I actually had to leave the bike in the garage at times because I could not afford to run it.
I sold it at a mild profit - it went very quickly, a matter of hours after the advert appeared, although, funnily enough, I only had one other call - and decided to go back to my Suzuki GS550 Kat which had been sitting, somewhat malovently in the garage.
Imagine the scene. Banked over in a long 80mph bend, halfway through your brain is suddenly left incredulous by a moronic cager deciding it's the ideal place to do a U-turn. The shiny Renault 5 reversing into the bit of road needed to complete the corner. The moment of collision would see the front wheel crunching into the middle of the car.....even if you used all the power of the brakes there's no way the machine will pull up in time.
I wrenched the bike up, doing an instant change of direction and somehow hurled the machine through the gap between the front of the car and what space was left on the wrong side of the road. I was both amazed that I was still aboard the FZ600 uninjured and that the Yamaha had performed the crazed directional change with nary a twitch. Any bike that can save your bacon in such desperate situations can be forgiven much.
And there is much to forgive on the FZ600. Not that its faults were immediately apparent when I bought a new machine in 1988. The FZ was a tuned up version of the XJ600 which as well as cafe racer styling had 70 horses to propel a mere 400lbs of mass. It was a stop gap model, a rival to the CBR600 until Yamaha could come up with the FZR.
The head in the clocks riding position was alright by me, I knew that the pain in my wrists would disappear as soon as the machine was run in and I could obtain some decent speed out of the DOHC four. I had previously owned an XJ550, which I sold with 68000 miles on the clock, so I had no qualms about the basic toughness of the engine. After a 1000 miles of relatively restrained riding I let rip, getting 140mph on the clock and rock solid stability on the motorway.
At that kind of speed the riding position made sense but above 85mph the secondary vibes came in with remarkable ferocity, the fairing screen thrumming away, the vibration finding its way through the tank, pegs and bars. Below 80mph the engine felt really smooth, although below 2000rpm it rumbled and clattered like there was something seriously wrong. The vibes really limited the bike's high speed cruising potential, brief bursts of speed were no problem but sustained ton plus speeding eventually led to blurred vision and dead fingers. At 80mph the riding position is bearable for a 100 miles but after that the seat becomes positively painful whilst wrists and knees suffer from the strained riding position.
One aspect of this limited cruising ability was that the relatively low speeds returned around 60mpg. Of course, the whole machine is set up for back road scratching. Here, it really does excel. It spins around corners like a 300lb lightweight, the angles of lean induce feelings of dizziness, the vibes and discomfort fade into the background as you test the limits of personal bravery. Its nimbleness is such that you always feel as if you were going much too slow; several times I turned the bike around and rode my favourite stretches of twisty roads again just for the sheer fun of it.
The only weak spot in the chassis was braking when banked over, which induced fork judder, the wheel skipping off line. However, this only occurred under extreme abuse and on a bike less good in chassis leaving the braking so late would not have been entertained - it was the kind of bike that felt so secure it encouraged increasing acts of highway insanity until the limits of physics were encountered rather than the machine's. However, of late, with the front forks losing some of their precision, that judder has become rather frightening, although I've yet to be thrown off. Under such abuse fuel economy dropped to around 50mpg; considering the grin factor involved this was more than acceptable.
To go with its cafe racer looks it has a raw feel that would have, say, a CBR600 owner rushing to the dealer to demand a full service. And, indeed, the FZ needed a full service every 1000 miles if its raw edge was not to become dog rough. After the dealer did the first service, I found a lot of popping in the exhaust on the overrun. The grease monkey had tightened down the exhaust valve clearances to zero....I never let the bike near a dealer after that and did the services myself. I must have been doing something right for in three years I managed 32000 miles with no engine problems. The same could not be said for the rest of the bike.
After two year and 18000 miles the inside of the petrol tank was full of rust, clogging up the filter and making the engine run terribly. A new tank was bought as the bike was then rare in breakers. Two months later the silencer was a heap of rust and the downpipes were not much better. I had been told that aftermarket systems wrecked the carburation, so like a fool I coughed up for a brand new system.
By then the suspension had gone soft and some of the bike's stability had disappeared. Not that it was bad, it was just that it had lost the feeling of incredible security it had when new. The FZ was also susceptible to tyre wear, when they were down to 2 to 3mm the machine became very twitchy. As Arrowmaxes, which otherwise suit the bike well, don't last for more than 6000 miles, this is a seriously expensive business. I did try Roadunners once but found wet weather behaviour was lacking in predictability - a kind way of saying that on occasions the buggers let loose with no warning, especially at the rear.
Brake calipers were another disaster area. At 19500 miles one of the front calipers seized on solid, making it almost impossible to ride the bike. It was not possible to fix so a new one was fitted. Some time later the rear caliper did the same trick, but I never bothered replacing it after freeing it off - the rear was used so infrequently that I never had to change the pads.
I knew the bike wasn't comfortable as a long distance tourer but that did not stop me using the machine for an around Britain charity run of some 3000 miles. I went in the company of a nearly new XJ600, by the end of the first day I was full of lust for its normal riding position and comfortable seat - after 300 miles of FZ the XJ felt like an armchair. Unfortunately, the XJ owner refused to ride the FZ for more than 10 miles, so it was back to purgatory.
I felt like a real hero after that trip. It must have toughened up my muscles, or something, because afterwards the bike was a lot less painful to ride. 200 miles in a day seemed nothing - well, not quite, it took an hour or two for my backside to recover. I eventually cut up a piece of heavyweight foam and stuck that on top of the seat, which improved matters no end, it was just the inside of my thighs that suffered, rubbing on the sharp edges of the seat....yet more foam!
Admittedly, the bike looked a bit weird, spoiling the racy lines of the GRP no end. Passengers were even worse off. Sat on a tiny pad, if they were over about six their knees were all crunched up and they were often thrown clean off the back of the machine under acceleration....local kids found it hard to restrain themselves from throwing bricks when I wobbled past with a six foot mate on the back, he was perched high above my 5'6". The bike does have a nice low seat height for those short of leg.
Up to the ton, the FZ can stay with GPZ600s and CBR600s. Racing them through the curves is great fun, it really ruins their poise when you go inside them, although on longer straights the CBR blasts off at an incredible pace. I prefer racing with LCs, as nimbleness is well matched and I can take them on the straights. With 31000 miles up, vibes increased and top speed was down to 125mph, so I thought it was time to look for something newer. When, 800 miles later, a dealer offered me two grand part exchange on a new FZR1000 EXUP, I was smitten. I miss the sheer flickability of the smaller bike, but the fantastic grunt of the muscle bike kind of makes up for it.
Mike Harris
The FZ750 wasn't really on my buying list. I wanted a 600 race replica. They were just as fast as the 750s and cheaper to insure. I had a £2000 limit on what I could afford. No 600s that weren't on the way to the breaker's yard were available for that kind of money in Bristol. When a 1985 FZ came up for £1950 I decided it was worth a look.
The styling wasn't much to write home about. Looked like they had bunged some left-over RD350/ 500 bits on to a square section frame. The four cylinder, 20 valve engine was canted forward at a radical angle. All the frame tubes were at different angles to that, making the whole look a mess. It sounded pretty good, though, and looked nice enough for a 22000 mile, six year old.
I didn't know what to think about the engine. The gearchange was a right bastard. By the time I'd finally hit on third gear I was happy enough to let the grunt of the motor waft me around the housing estate. I even pulled off in that ratio a couple of times, needing only a modicum of clutch slip. There wasn't the space to rev it hard but there appeared plenty of power on hand. No obvious chassis faults or worn consumables. I used the awful gearbox as a good bargaining point. Rode away 1700 sovs short of pocket.
I'm always a bit uneasy when I've just purchased a used bike. Worried that I've bought a dog which is going to fail or throw me off before I could reach home. So, I took it easy, again for most of the time stuck in third gear. I locked it away for the night after checking it over again.
The next day it started easily, ran beautifully until I hit the M4 when it locked into fourth gear. Not an auspicious beginning. I revved hard to see what it would do. 110mph. The bars shook slowly from side to side, convincing me of the need to back off. I pulled off at the Severn Bridge services. Relieved to find that the gearchange still worked with the engine turned off. The oil sight-glass looked white, so I headed home on just a hint of throttle.
An oil change and new filter improved the gearbox action no end. It always required a deliberate foot but only rarely decided to stick in a gear. I was quietly impressed with the torque below 6000 revs and the grunt above it. The FZ went faster than it felt, as evidenced by the way it blew a friend's GPX600 into the weeds without really trying. Vibes were also minimal, certainly not harsh enough to reach fingers or feet.
The handlebar shakes were traced to an extra 10psi in the front 16 inch wheel. This was a trendy item when the FZ was introduced but proved to be a bit on the small side for both tyre longevity and high speed stability. Later FZ models had 17 inch wheels. I found that mine only went twitchy when the tyre was worn out or when the tyre pressure was incorrect.
On a decent set of Pirellis or Metz's I found stability was good, with a nice neutral, planted on the road feel and that the Yam could be flung over until the ends of the footpegs ground down on the tarmac. The low slung engine doubtless aids the feeling of security with the resultant good centre of gravity, but it also puts a lot of mass on the front end. Turning is quite heavy at town speeds. Flicking through corners isn't particularly heavy going once used to using a bit of body language. The mass over the front wheel perhaps explains why the front tyre lasts no longer than the rear. Figure 4-5000 miles before they wear sufficiently to upset the handling.
I doubt if the pair of double piston caliper discs did much for front tyre life, either. They may have been fine when new, but they were very grabby on my bike. Low speed work involved a lot of juddering even though the front forks, like the single rear shock, were still sporting taut. High speed work produced a lot of desperate graunching noises. After a bit of hard use the brakes also faded.
Wet weather was even worse. The on/off action showed up one of the inherent problems of front 16 inch wheels. It would slide away with incredible ferocity when suddenly locked on a wet road surface. The bike felt otherwise secure on damp roads, aided and abetted by the controllable power delivery. I could cruise at 90mph on motorways but not come to a quick halt on wet roads at town speeds. The gearbox would also go temperamental just when I most needed to knock down a gear or two to avail myself of some engine braking. All in all, I was not too happy with the bike.
Close examination of the front discs revealed that they were warped. I sent them away to be skimmed flat only to receive a box full of broken discs a couple of days later. The explanatory letter blamed the quality of their manufacture and material. I had a perfectly good motorcycle sitting in my garage without any front brakes.
The breakers couldn't help me. The only ones they had were also warped. I ended up phoning around the country until I located a new pair at the bargain price (that's what the dealer told me) of £120. Time was when I could buy a perfectly good motorcycle for that. Anyway, they fitted straight on and braking improved immeasurably. There was still a slight bit of fade after a bout of hard braking. It was nothing compared to the earlier horrors. Wet weather braking became safe and predictable. Front pad life worked out at 9-10,000 miles.
The easy going engine characteristics soon convinced me that it was an ideal device to use for the holidays. It wasn't easy to load up with my large mate and our camping gear. Redistribution of the contents of a massive haversack and tank-bag solved it. The suspension took the weight and steering still felt amenable to a bit of hustling. What I hadn't reckoned on was the pillion perch throwing my mate into an unholy intimacy with myself. My groin complained about its union with the tank. A harsh bit of acceleration threw him backwards but every time I slowed down he was thrown into my spine again.
It took about 50 miles before we were in serious pain. After 100 miles I had to pull into some services. Neither of us could immediately stand up straight and we both cursed each other and the poor old FZ750. The shape of the seat has as much to do with its lack of comfort as the density of the foam. Some work with tape and a pile of rags we'd found in the garage built the seat up. It looked well weird but allowed us to do a couple of hundred miles in a day without having screaming fits. I eventually had the seat refilled and recovered......and very nice it was too!
Other than the seat, the FZ proved a more than adequate tourer. The half fairing allowed comfortable cruising up to about 120mph, when wind buffeting took over. 140mph was about the most the FZ would do. Fuel was horrendous over ton, 25 to 30mpg. Saner riding, but by no means having to bore yourself to sleep, returned 40 to 45mpg. Mild riders might better 50mpg but I was never that inclined to ride slowly.
After about a year and 16000 miles, in which I did nothing to the motor other than change the oil, I was becoming a bit bored with the bike. It never had the startling power punch of some race replicas. I kept pestering a local dealer about an FZR1000 he had for sale. After two months of persistence he finally decided that some money was better than none and gave me a reasonable deal on the smaller Yam.
The FZ750 has one of the toughest engines around (you hardly ever have to touch the valves or carbs) and a chassis that has no nasty surprises. It'll tour, race or commute. It all depends what you want, I needed the massive dose of power the FZR1000 lays down. Nuff said!
Martin Jones
Races on the road are frowned upon but when a pack of modern superbikes get together, ego, madness and machoness takes over from common sense and, even, the laws of the land. My FZ featured a race 4-1 exhaust, open carbs and suitably adjusted carburation. These minor mods must've had some effect on the power output, which standard was a 100 horses, as it'd accelerate like a bloody rocket all the way up to 150mph whereas before it lost its pace at 135mph. The only thing to slow me down was a clumsy gearbox that continually tried to show me up by selecting a false neutral. I'd bought the bike with 9000 miles on the clock and it hadn't turned intransigent until 22000 miles were done.
It's a common complaint on hard used FZ750s, solved by fitting new selectors if you have the time, energy and money. I hadn't, thus with 38000 miles on the clock I had the most sensitive left foot in the UK. Take it slow and steady, which goes against the grain on such a fast revving engine, and it'll select gear okay on the way up through the box. Coming back down it's dead easy to become completely lost, end up with a locked and screaming back wheel.
Under such mistreatment the back end will move around a little, but never so badly, other than in the wet, as to throw the bike down the road. A White Power shock and a fork brace with the forks on their highest settings, are necessary adjuncts to such sterling stability; the stock fare goes distinctly mushy after the first 15000 miles to the extent that even straight line stability goes a little wild.
A similar effect can be produced by running the FZ on worn out tyres, equivalent, if the boredom of modern life ever really gets to you, of living on a razor's edge. The bike squirms over every road imperfection, the tyres slip and slide every time the throttle is hit in anger and just the slightest bit of water is an invitation to an early meeting with the Grim Reaper!
All that is in contrast with running the bike on newish tyres and well set-up suspension. Then the FZ feels so well attached to the road that it seems miraculous and the faster I went the more mass the 475lb bike seems to shed. Ground clearance is as prodigious as the angles of lean made possible by the tyres' grip, the frame's strength and the cleverly devised weight distribution from the canted forward engine.
And what a neat bit of high technology the motor contains. Yamaha's (almost) unique five valve head, gorgeous castings and a quality of build that none of the other manufacturers can match (the gearbox apart). Put in this way, the internals are entirely as they came out of the factory, the valves have stayed so exactly in tolerance that they have never needed any attention and power is still so stunning that the engine seems not to have worn one tiny little bit. The only thing I've ever had to do is adjust the carbs every 3000 miles!
The way it produces power is just as good. Even the almost straight through exhaust has failed to stop it knocking out a useful amount of torque below 6000rpm. It's quite possible to ride in town without ever exceeding this limit and still kill just about every cage stone dead. Moderate use of the throttle puts it into a frugal mode where 55 to 60mpg is available and consumables don't seem to wear at all.
The joy, though, when the revs rise and the exhaust wails means it's a hard heart that can resist the odd dash into the red. The first few weeks it used to blow my mind right away, requiring a completely new perspective on taking traffic gaps and when my brain couldn't keep up with the surging acceleration some frantic work on the triple discs, which even when they howled the tyres seemed only just adequate to the task.
Any bike that makes a 100 horses renders maximum cruising speeds entirely theoretical. It's more a matter of what your mind and licence can take than what the motorcycle can churn out. Anything, in the UK, over 100mph for more than a few moments is just asking for Big Brother, via cameras or loitering patrol cars, to confiscate your licence if not the machine and income for the next several years. The only way out if you really want to speed is false numberplates and an unwillingness to stop for anything; I'm a little too old for that amount of stress.
Odd bashes on German autobahns revealed the FZ as entirely capable of withstanding speeds in excess of 125mph for as long as my brain could take it. Or my pocket, as fuel seemed to go through the engine at an incredible rate and layers of rubber were left behind (30mpg and about 1mm of tread in 300 miles). The half fairing that was normally tolerable became quite effective as the 125mph gale whipped around it, entirely missing my body if I crouched down slightly. The only weak spot in high speed, long distance touring was the seat which went a touch hard and eventually took to soaking up water. It ended up with a rather twee cover and an extra thin layer of high density foam, which helped but did not entirely cure the discomfort on really long distance tours.
Much more problematic were the discs, both fore and aft, which suffered from just about every fault ever caused by brakes in the history of motorcycling. A certain mushiness was the first symptom which I thought would be fixed with Goodridge hose and new hydraulic fluid but the lever would still come back to the bars under repeated use. That was down to caliper seals that were starting to leak. That presaged much seizing of calipers in the following winter, which after several rebuilds meant they were so worn out that I had to run around breakers looking for replacements.
I even went so far as to buy a brand new set of calipers that, some 16000 miles later, are starting the terrible cycle all over again. They probably took offence at the discs which had begun to warp after becoming so thin that they pinged. This was an '88 bike, they may have got better with newer models but somehow I doubt it. When everything was set up to perfection the brakes were quite tolerable. I preferred Ferodo to Dunlopad or EBC brake pads as they lasted longer and worked slightly better in the wet, but don't expect them to go for much more than 5000 miles.
Part of that wear comes from racing with my friends down our favourite country roads, where the real lunatics get the front wheel up in the air at 100mph. The FZ750 has the edge on the better 600s and can even give the litre bikes pause for thought, especially where there are more curves than straights. The expense of running the FZ is about on a par with the bigger bikes rather than the 600s, although it pales into insignificance against the cost of fully comprehensive insurance. TPF&F is bad enough, as these kinds of bikes are prime targets for thieves.
The only time I was ever traumatised on a long distance run was when the back wheel's bearings started to break up. Some wild back end wobbles resulted. I was about 120 miles from home and in a bit of a panic as each mile I put on the clock the wobbles became larger and larger. My mates had a great laugh, especially as I hadn't bothered with the AA (the engine was so tough I figured it would never break down) so I had the option of pushing it or riding at about 10mph. I gave it a brief burst of speed from time to time to stop myself going completely insane but it felt like the swinging arm was going to fall out of the frame.
Back home at about 2.00am I couldn't sleep so pulled the wheel out to see the extent of the damage. The spindle proved reluctant to come out and only did so when the one bearing broke up completely. The bearings were full of rust and the spindle was bent. It didn't help me sleep! New bearings and a used spindle soon had the FZ back on the road.
Another major expense was a Dream Machine paint job on the tank and plastic, in Yamaha yellow and black. The original shine had faded rather than rusted away, something that couldn't be said for the forks which eventually became so pitted I had to have them hard-chromed. I fitted gaiters when I got them back two years ago and they are still perfect now. The White Power shock and rear suspension linkages get covered in crud every time it rains due to a stupid lack of mudguarding but they have resisted the huge amount of wear that normally accompanies such lack of thought and design. Some of the plastic prongs on the fairing and panels broke off. Superglue held them for a while, but I ended up fashioning my own and welding some tabs on the frame to hold nuts whilst using screws and rubber to mount them. This had a pleasant side effect of making the fairing less susceptible to what little vibration the engine put out....it never got through to the bars or pegs.
One friend has owned an FZ that has done 123,000 miles from new with just the replacement of one camchain and tensioner in the engine (the gearchange action beggars belief) although most of the chassis has been renovated, replaced or upgraded. He has set his chassis up so nicely to suit his needs that he has no intention of trading in for a new bike but will get a newer engine when his fails or when the gearbox becomes totally inoperable. It seems like a good path to follow, as there's certainly no need for any more power or a better frame. Maybe the FZ marks the end of the throwaway Japanese motorcycle.
Pat Linder
The Japanese home market has many weird and wonderful devices that but rarely find their way into the UK. The Zeal doesn't look that odd, more of a modern retro than anything else, along the lines of Honda's excellent CB-1. As noted by the UMG, the way the radiator cowls integrates with the rest of the styling's a bit naff; so much so that some Zeal's are run with a stripped down front end.
From the saddle, such minor styling quirks aren't too intrusive. The Zeal could be a touch narrower around the back of the tank and have some more knee room, but bars and pegs are sensibly touring orientated rather than senselessly replica inspired. The bike feels much bulkier than it is in reality. A mere 320lbs for a watercooled DOHC four is close to miraculous, although all of the other Jap companies have similar offerings, this being the most competitive sector in Japan.
The Yamaha further benefits from its lowly slung motor, which is also relatively narrow. Once on the move the bike's easier to flick around than a 250 Superdream with much less of a top heavy feel. The bike feels so neutrally balanced that it immediately inspires throttle madness. No learning curve here!
The engine's also easier going than shorter stroke offerings from rival manufacturers and has the kind of silky smoothness that comes from top quality design and engineering. The Japanese really know how to pare the reciprocating masses down to the bare minimum, which gives less stress and vibration right throughout the engine.
Although not full of massive torque below 7000 revs, it wasn't as flat as expected and would pull reasonably in third or fourth gear. The gearbox was the weakest part of the bike (with 8500 miles on the clock), having a mild dose of clunking and clicking if used at less than 10,000 revs (thereafter slickness was superb!).
Stock engines are limited to 40 horses at 12000 revs but there are illegally modified ignition boxes that let it peak out at about 50 horses at 14000rpm! Luckily, this mod didn't ruin the low end friendliness, just gave the motor at extra kick. The stocker peaked at 110mph in neutral conditions but modified more than a 120mph was put on the clock. You understand that in Japan they lock you away for a long time for such antisocial indulgences - it's much better to get hold of the fastest possible version, so you can get away more easily.
The Zeal runs relatively primitive suspension, mere twin shocks out back. Bumpy roads taken at high speed have it shuffling around a little, more down to a lack of damping finesse that particularly poorly sprung suspension. The front end goes down on the stops when braking becomes harsh, though the disc brakes are quite sensitive, easy enough to gauge the necessary pressure even in the wet.
It's just that some of the Jap cagers go certifiably insane once placed behind the wheel of some blandly inadequate auto. They react to a badly ridden, speeding projectile wobbling around on two wheels by trundling into its path, full on the horn with spastic gestures of total disbelief at my antics. They were worse than Belgians!
The Yam was also a bit limited in the way it would hustle through the cages when locked up on the brakes. Sometimes the thing went way out of line, a borderline case that suggested loss of control was just about to go down. I found, for instance, a CB-1 rather more amenable to highway insanity. To be fair to the Yamaha, I only had a brief tenure and a tightened up front end would doubtless have removed all my complaints.
Fuel was another area that didn't impress. Okay, I thrashed the balls off the thing but the equivalent of 35mpg was worse than most auto's. I can only guess that all the frictional forces involved in moving four pistons and associated bearings undermined its high technology and advanced design elements. Ridden mildly, better than 50mpg's probably possible but that's rather a large misuse of this kind of machine, though the Jap's seem to do more mild posing than hard riding.
Rust hadn't got a hold after a year's abuse, though bits of the engine alloy had a fur of white corrosion. The only element of real wear was the rubber, down to about 3mm on OE tyres, but these were way ahead of the old Jap rubber and still keen at keeping a grip on slippery tarmac.
The only time I almost came a cropper was down to the lack of adhesion on my own boots (which looked like I'd walked around the world in them). Touching down on a slippery bit of road, whose camber was running away from the bike, my foot shot away and only after a massive bit of juggling did I stop us both sliding away. Had the bike been top heavier I would've been a goner.
Another amusing moment was when some thick cager tried to reverse into my forward path. Hit the brakes in a frenzy and jerk the jumping Yamaha into a gap between two cars. Unfortunately, one of the drivers was a psychopath built like a Sumo wrestler. Armed with a baseball bat, he shuffled out of his cage, threatening to flatten my lid if I didn't get out of his way pronto.
My poor old heart nearly had a seizure, but I managed a rear wheel skid combined with chronic clutch slip to do a disappearing act. Luckily, he was too fat to run after me. I tried for a wheelie but ended up with a series of jerks that threatened to take out the clutch if not the back wheel's cush-drive.
The Yam soon calmed down again, but I found Tokyo traffic always left me on edge. At the end of each ride I had shaking hands and a madly fluttering heart, from a combination of the sheer, almost impenetrable density of the traffic and the insane antics of the terminally frustrated drivers.
On almost every ride I saw an accident. Usually dented cages but occasionally a flattened motorcycle... manufacturers of commuter bikes should be on to a huge earner as the whole world becomes clogged up with excessive cages - the small bikes are the only way left to weave and wallow through the traffic.
The Yamaha Zeal wouldn't be my first choice for serious commuting as it's lacking in frugally and despite being small and light for a 250 four, it's still a bit on the hefty side compared with step-thru's, commuter bikes and scooters. Where it excels is as a flash set of wheels with an interesting line in top end acceleration, easy handling and fairly versatile.
It all comes down to how cheap they are, really nice used ones going for £1800 to £2000 in Japan (which translates to £3500 in the UK). For that kind of money there are better buys in the import market but if the looks get to you then it's worth going for. There were also quite a few crashed and bashed Zeals on offer, best to check them over carefully if they turn up cheap in the UK.
Mike Prescotte
Fat frauds are dangerous. I know one guy who has spent his whole life in a righteous glow of self deception. He gets on in life by arse-licking all those around him. He outlasts rivals through his own sheer love of the mediocre. He also just happened to own a prime FZ600. A question of image, I think. He was a Euro bike enthusiast who pretended to like Jap's just because it helped him get by in life. The FZ's razor seat and his huge arse were well mismatched. The clock read only 19000 miles on the 1988 machine. £1500, if I wanted it.
I did, the deed done, I was all ready for the highway. The FZ was a bit of a stopgap for Yamaha, marrying their well regarded XJ600 lump with a race replica chassis. Made old hat by the appearance of the FZR600. By the time the XJ lump had found its way into the FZ's chassis, it was as tough as any other aircooled, four cylinder mill.
As well as a razor sharp seat it had razor sharp handling. The kind of bike that needs the mildest of inputs to shove through the bends. It heeled over on to the edge of its tyres like a good 'un, encouraging much cornering madness on my part. My previous bike was an MZ 310; the difference was huge, in both handling and performance.
Top end was 130mph, but I had to get down behind the tiny fairing, otherwise the air blast tried to break my neck. I soon gained the nickname of Noddy because my head flopped around involuntarily at high speeds! The bars and pegs were well matched but the seat was horrible, combined with the lack of wind protection meant I had to stagger off the bike every half hour or so.
Cruising speed was high, in order to get the journey over with as quickly as possible, usually over the ton. Possible even on A-roads as the bike handled so well. I was stopped several times by the cops and told to take my doc's to the local cop shop, as well as getting a lot of tickets, but I gave fatso's name and address, never having changed the details in the registration document. Give him some much needed street cred! I moved down to Kent, so there was no way he could catch up with me.
The only time the bike gave me any trauma was when I had to brake in a hurry. Although there were twin discs out front, they lacked power. Sometimes the lever came all the way back to the bar, needed to be pumped frantically. The brake fluid was changed, but the bleed nipples stripped their threads, bunged back in with Araldite and prayers. Silly. The braking didn't improve.
New pads were tried next. They wouldn't go in. The carriers sprung forward when the old ones were pulled out and refused to budge. I couldn't drain the fluid because I'd glued the bleed nipples in! I tried hammering one pad into the narrow gap, which caused it to break up! Bloody hell. I decided to take the bleedin' bleed nipples out. Araldite's good stuff, the heads broke off, leaving the thread permanently embedded.
Drill the threads out. Black and Decker to the fore. The drill bit broke off in the thread. Aaaargh! Where's the hammer? Okay, face the fact, the calipers are shagged. Phone breakers. Hysterical laughter. Phone Yamaha dealer. A few hundred quid later I had new calipers, pads, Goodridge hose and fluid. The front brake was still crap!
I did some more riding and thinking. Must be the discs, then. I looked them over. A bit of scoring but they didn't look thin or warped. Talked to another FZ owner. Yes, the front brake's crap. Nothing can be done with it. Just learn to live with it. Use the gearbox and engine braking as well as the rear disc. Though the downchanges were always vague, a small chance of ending up in the strange oblivion of a false neutral. Couldn't be relied on but better than nothing.
The back disc was worse than the front. It either did nothing or locked up the rear wheel. The first month of winter it seized on. By the time I'd skidded to a halt on the hard shoulder of the M1, the disc was glowing red hot and looked like the whole thing was going to melt into one lump. Only one thing for it, get the "fire-hose" out and let loose! I managed to lever the caliper off the disc without burning holes in my hands after my piss had vaporised on contact.
Back home, I discovered the back disc was warped and the caliper beyond help. More laughter from breakers, more money in Yamaha's coffers. This sounds bad but in between these braking disasters there was about 7000 miles of fun motorcycling. It even worked quite well in town because it was so light turning and rapid accelerating.
The only thing to avoid was the deeper potholes as the stiff suspension meant I was thrown about a yard in the seat, landed with a large thump on me balls! Ouch! The bike didn't go off line or anything, which was pretty amazing. The tyres were a bit squirmy on wet roads and caught out by manhole covers, the back wheel twitched crazily until the tarmac was regained.
I kept a weary eye out for pot-holes and got up on the pegs to avoid the early demise of my marital tackle. Bumpy country roads were okay as it tended to fly over the bumps at an improbable speed. I think Yamaha made it so well handling so that they could get away with fitting cheap brakes; it didn't really mind being panicked braked late into the corners. One good thing about the suspension, it didn't seem to go off any as mileage and time were clocked up on the little wonder.
Inevitably, come the next summer, I had to go on a Continental tour. I modded the seat with a couple of layers of foam before setting off, by then the seat was practically flattened to the base. Several layers of aluminium tape kept the water out. I couldn't find any aftermarket saddles and it was a waste of time handing over huge quantities of dosh to Yamaha for a new one.
The engine was given a full service by the local dealer. I'd always done the oil but nowt else in about 12000 miles. Valves and carbs set to perfection, removed an annoying 7000 rev patch of vibration and gave an extra bit of top end urge.
I bunged all my clothes in a tank bag, giving me something to lean on as I envisaged lots of high speed cruising. Leaving the UK, with its excess of mad cops and speed trap cameras, it was quite invigorating to rush off the ferry in wheelie mode and terrorise the populace of France. Unfortunately, I'd finally had to do the registration doc's in my name to match my passport, which killed a lot of the fun riding in the UK.
During the first week I spent most of my time cruising at 100 to 110mph. With the modded seat and tank-bag to lean on I could get my head down, zoom along in good comfort for an hour or so. Fuel was only 30mpg. I ended up zooming along German autobahns, getting an all time high of 140mph top speed!
The engine seemed to get better the harder I rode, speed increased to 120-130mph cruising in the second week. Just for kicks. What I didn't realise was that such hard use was burning off an awful lot of oil. One day's riding equated to 900 miles, ending in Berlin, where the motor felt rather hot and was shaking like a pile- driver.
I found a cheap hotel, pulled into the courtyard. I was too tired to check it out that night and in an even worse state in the morning - I must have visited all the bars that night, and in Berlin there were an awful lot of bars. Turned out the sump was completely devoid of oil. I put some new lube in and she started after five minutes. The engine had enough knocking to drown out the exhaust and tried to break out of the frame. Sold it to a dodgy Eastern European for £500 and made it home on the train. Sad to see her go and out of pocket, but my own fault for not checking the oil when I stopped for fuel. Silly Twit.
Larry Smithe
The wheelie lasted a hundred yards. At least. It was a feat that overcame weight distribution and a head in the clocks riding position. The engine caterwauled in first, then second. The plastic fairing vibrated as if it was paper thin. Tremors from the four cylinder engine struck the pegs and bars. As the front wheel came back to earth, I changed up to third. With the throttle still held wide open a large lurch tried to pull the bars out of my hands. The bars shimmied in my hands as the FZ roared off up the road. It wouldn't lose the ferocity of its acceleration until well over 100mph was achieved.
In some bikes, certain elements come together so well that they are much more than the sum of the parts. In the FZ's case, frame, suspension, geometry and weight distribution combined to produce razor sharp steering that was able to make the most of what was basically a decidedly old fashioned XJ600 motor. The cafe racer stance also made the most of the engine's seventy horses by losing weight and improving high speed aerodynamics.
The riding position, combined with the minimal seat, made the FZ one of the most immediately uncomfortable motorcycles on the planet earth. Only when stabbing the bike around twisty country roads was the pain submerged beneath the pleasure. The usual complaints about across the frame fours - too much mass placed too high - were just not present in the FZ, which could be flicked from side to side with all the ease of a good 250 but retained the stability of something much more hefty. A neat trick of chassis dynamics.
The lack of comfort had me trying all kinds of tricks on long runs. Using the pillion pegs helped (as long as there wasn't a pillion), as did stuffing a jumper under my backside and wearing thick over-trousers. More than two hours would have me both figuratively and literally bent and twisted. I kept myself going by forcing the FZ into massive wheelies and taking outrageous risks going through corners.
The accuracy of steering allowed me to shoot through gaps that would otherwise have turned me rigid with fear and loathing. Revving the engine between 8 and 11,000rpm put down a delicious surge of acceleration and the kind of exhaust note, out of the race 4-1, that'd have motorcyclists applauding and the plod beating the shit out of me.
The bike began to run out of puff come 115mph but it was relatively easy to put 125mph on the clock. Any more than that needed very favourable conditions, indeed. The most I ever saw on the clock was 140mph, when the secondary vibes threatened the seat and fairing, whilst the exhaust and bars were close to cracking up.
The exhaust was made of ultra thin steel which had been welded repeatedly in the downpipes where a combination of corrosion and vibes had led to holes, cracks and even large splits. The carbs were rejetted to go with the exhaust and the lack of airfilters. Carburation wasn't perfect, with lots of hesitation below 3000rpm, but who the hell wants to putter along like they're on a bloody C50? So, that wasn't a big problem.
Weather protection from the fairing became better above 90mph, when the wind whipped the rain around my stick-like frame. Had I been portly it wouldn't have been much cop; but then if I sported a big beer gut I wouldn't even have been able to fit myself into the compact chassis. Pillions became either violent of bitchy, depending upon their sex, after about fifteen minutes subjected to the vibes, sharp edges of the seat and overtly intimate contact with myself. It was a pretty effective way of ending relationships that had turned stale.
Just to show its real mettle, the plastic seat surround actually started cracking up, when I was whizzing across the countryside with a hefty mate out back. He felt way out of it, as the seat was moving from side to side as its mountings wore away. A temporary repair, consisting of bungee cords and prayers, got us back home. The GRP kit also had to be applied to the fairing several times, as it tended to send out massive cracks from its mounting holes.
Finish on the whole machine was poor, with rust breaking out on the forks, frame and tank, whilst the alloy rot attacked the engine and wheels. If it shared an almost Italian adherence to sticking to its line in corners it also shared that country's penchant for quick rot machinery when subjected to a couple of English winters. I ended up buying new forks as the originals were pitted beyond redemption but the rest of the machine was restored with lots of elbow grease, polish, paint and a final layer of Scientific Coating's liquid, which I'd always found had excellent protective properties. So, it proved with the FZ, rather than weekly sessions all I had to do was hose the grime off the bike, to find good alloy and paint underneath. It's not cheap but it's a worthwhile investment if you want to keep a bike for a long time.
I've owned the FZ for three years and 17000 miles. There's now 32000 on the clock. The engine's needed nothing more than regular valve, carb and oil maintenance. The XJ series, from which it's derived, is usually good for 45000 miles before any serious attention is needed; maybe as much as 75000 miles before the crank, primary drive and top end all need replacement or rebuilding. Then it's a lot easier and cheaper to find a low mileage engine.
Mileage has been limited as I'm not too keen to hit the road during the worst four months of the year. Even with premium Pirellis fitted, I don't feel that safe on icy roads. This is nothing to do with the FZ, it's all down to having been spat off an XS250 on a patch of black ice. I slid off the road, missing being trampled on by a huge artic, which decided to flatten the XS instead. And, I mean flatten! It looked like it'd been run over by a steam roller. If it'd got my legs they would've been amputated clean off. It was the thought of this that kept me off two wheels during the winter.
At the best of times, the FZ wasn't too hot in town. The cramped riding position, lack of lock and poor low speed running made for fumes pouring out of my helmet when I was hemmed in by the thicko's in cars. I often felt like taking a machine gun to the whole lot of 'em. There was also the chance, when braking vehemently, that the fairing screen would cut through my throat, filling me with visions of the main artery going, gallons of blood pouring out as I flopped dead over the bars.
The twin disc brakes out front were stripped and rebuilt once. Pads last about 8000 miles. The feel is fine in the dry, they can be used to just off locking up the front wheel. Braking distances are as good as my friend's CBR600. In the wet there's a little bit of lag and somewhat less feel, but after a couple of months I became used to it. Compared with some other bikes of the same era, especially the FZR600, the brakes have been okay.
A few electrical problems turned up, the battery refusing to hold a charge and the main fuse blowing. The electrical system bore little resemblance to that in the manual. The rectifier and regulator were off something else; the former wasn't doing a good job of converting AC to DC. A mate who reckoned he knew what he was doing fitted in a car rectifier. The battery went flat in a record time. He'd got two wires the wrong way around. Once corrected, it's worked fine ever since. Yamaha electrics are generally robust, although I would've preferred a more powerful front light. More than 50mph in the dark became a suicide mission.
Self-destruction was also caused by neglect of the rear chain, which by the time I bought the bike was a Plain Jane job that ruined itself and the sprockets in about 4000 miles. I never summoned up the enthusiasm to pay out for a good O-ring chain and sprocket set. Fuel was also expensive at 35 to 45mpg.
None of that really mattered when the FZ600 was in its true element - twisty back roads. It's a machine fine tuned for utmost entertainment when matched to the right kind of roads. The rest of the time it'd handle most things thrown at it but a large amount of discomfort, cost and impracticality is involved. I really need a second machine for the commuter chores but I can't afford that and find the FZ so charming that I don't want to sell it.
Jack Flitchly
Bang, bang, bang. I looked down and back to my right, almost jumped in the seat. The silencer was hanging off by about an inch of metal and then was gone. This happened on the ride home after purchasing the bike. I'd thought it was an immaculate, low mileage two year old; the owner reckoned the best one in the country! The silencer had gleamed in black but obviously hid an excess of rust. What a way to begin a motorcycle adventure!
The whole street turned out to see why a low flying jet was about to land on their doorsteps. To say the FZ was loud on an open pipe was like saying that the Pope was a Roman Catholic. The power had also done a runner, the engine only willing to run between 4000 and 6000 revs. My welcome was akin to a mass murderer who'd escaped imprisonment on a technicality.
The next day a GPZ900 can was forced on and welded in place - well, the kid next door had one in bits and gave it to me for free. The engine sounded so quiet I thought that something was wrong. Power delivery was luxuriant, expansive and very exciting (after an XS500, which I'd thought really rather good).
The engine was a brilliant bit of design. Four cylinders, watercooled, the top end slanted forward and containing 20 valves. The result was 110 horses at 10,500rpm and 80Nm at 8250rpm. Not bad from a 749cc mill in 1990.
The chassis was a tubular square-section wrap-around job with mono-track back end and quite sophisticated suspension. Dry mass was 458lbs; with oil, water and 4.5 gallons of fuel, around 500lbs. This heaviness wasn't really apparent from the saddle, though at 31.5 inches it was quite a reach to the ground for this short-arsed terrorist. Steering was neutral, reasonably precise and free of any apparent anxieties.
I say apparent because the more I used the bike the harder I hammered the throttle. That turned up a few wobbles, a bit of back wheel stepping out and the front wheel leaping all about the place. The front hoop was, fortunately 17 inches rather than the then fashionable but dangerous 16 incher. However, the narrow 120/70 tyre always appeared a bit lost when dealing with quick changes of direction or rough roads. Stability was close to brilliant on motorways or smooth A-roads. Given its mass and long (59 inch) wheelbase perhaps this wasn't surprising.
In comparison to my friend's FZR600 I could blow him into the weeds in most circumstances. If there was a series of very tight, bumpy bends and he was willing to go crazy on his gearbox, then he'd get a little ahead but I'd soon make up the distance on the first bit of straight. CBR and ZZR 600's were much more difficult, probably why Yamaha stopped making the bike! Older style, 750 and 900, fours were killed dead by my FZ, superior, as it was, in both handling and power output.
It might be thought from its race replica appearance that it was the kind of bike that was all or nothing. Nothing could be further from the truth. Once I'd become used to the saddle, which initially seemed to be an instrument of torture, the riding position was relatively mild. I would've preferred a seat an inch or two lower, would've made me feel much more part of the machine rather than merely perched atop it. Comfort was good for a 75 mile blast, then needed a lot of squirming around.
The engine complemented the chassis in so far that it'd run quite nicely below 6500 revs. Torque wasn't excessive but it'd blow off most cages. Below 2000 revs, in fourth through to sixth, the chain tried to come off the sprockets. The cush-drive appeared okay, primary drive was by gear, so it was some quirk of the gearbox design, although also the swinging arm pivot's quite far from the gearbox output sprocket.
I had some blindingly brilliant times on this machine. Holding 150mph for an hour was more than exciting, it was bloody frightening! Not because the chassis threatened to fall apart, it was superb in its stability on the smooth motor...er, autobahn. The problem was that cages running along at 90mph seemed to be standing still and I had to batter my way through on the horn and the lights. A couple of times I had to charge through a yard wide gap, the change in air pressure emerging from between two cages furiously shook the front of the fairing. At 150mph that had me going, but once the air squall smoothed out it died down, but not before my ears popped!
Then there was me and my mates charging down the to the South of France. Those wide, smooth, curving, largely deserted roads were like paradise when the sun shone benignly. We drove the gendarmes berserk because we simply ignored their pleas to pull over, howled off into the distance with the throttle to the stop. We came back by a different route. What a high to ride and not give a damn, though in retrospect I think we should've kept our helmets on!
And those Italian girls! Turn up there on a big, flash bike and you can score every night, though we were only 18 to 20; older hooligans might not be so lucky (damn - Ed). To impress the girls, I really abused the poor old FZ, pulling wheelies and doing donuts. Halfway back the clutch began to rattle and slip above 8000 revs, which was a real pain because it stopped me getting at the real power. I made it home, had the last laugh as my friends were done for 120mph when back in the UK. I'd avoided the motorway in favour of some swervery. Much more fun, by then the clutch was slipping above 6000 revs.
A new set of heavyduty clutch plates put the machine to rights. I threw on a new chain and sprocket set after tearing out the swinging arm and suspension linkages for a good greasing. Chains don't last for more than 7000 miles if the engine's used hard. Even on a brand new chain it still didn't like running below 2000 revs. Clutch slip for the really slow stuff had added to the carnage. The gearbox action wasn't up to the quality of the rest of the machine but not a limitation on throttle abuse. It just felt a touch agricultural.
The front discs were something of a disaster waiting to happen. Oh, they could be really powerful, brilliant stoppies outside the local school, etc. But every now and again, fade would occur and the braking would vanish! Stamping on the back brake squealed the tyre, but that caliper was threatening to seize up from all the gunge thrown off the chain and tyre. Goodridge hose made an enormous difference to the feel but used hard the calipers became so hot that they must've been seizing up. After 15000 miles of juvenile delinqueny (in addition to the 18 thou of original abuse), the discs went rather thin and the calipers refused to come apart for renovation. Newer FZ calipers and discs were fitted; an enormous improvement. Could leave my braking much later for bends and throw pillions over my head when I did a stoppie. Way cool.
About the only element of ownership that really got me down was the fact that I couldn't afford even third party insurance. No (legal) tax disc made me worry about the cops and I had the choice of either behaving in town or fleeing the scene in a hurry. Happened a few times. I didn't do this because I wanted to become a criminal but simply because it was the only way I could get some high speed kicks. But the thought of getting caught did prey on my mind.
It was this that eventually made me sell the bike. I bought a Kawasaki Z1 as a replacement because of the cheap classic insurance. An American import. A pile of crap compared to the FZ but not so bad now I've fitted modern suspension, wheels and a race tuned head - the 4-1 pipe really howls! Handling's still on the dangerous side but I'm beginning to enjoy the daily fight with the dinosaur, and 145mph on the clock ain't half bad!
The FZ750's a brilliant bit of tackle that can also be used for the daily commute. The motor's are tough, most complaints in the gearbox/clutch area. The chassis, brakes apart, is also tough. £2000 to £3000 buys a good 'un.
Nicky