I didn't really want a Harley. I knew the reality of ownership of an old Sportster - my brother still goes on and on about his day in the sun. With a licence near death I had to get some wheels that would give more enjoyment than mere speed.

I was figuring on buying a big single when a Suzuki VS750 came up. The local dealer had taken one in part-ex and wanted shot of it pronto. 1985 but only 9000 miles. It was one of those bikes that had never been ridden in the wet. Gleamed so brightly I staggered back slightly and muttered something about forgetting my sunglasses.

Unlike most customs, the OHV vee-twin weighed in at a reasonable 430lbs. Long and low, all of its engine weight was well tucked in. With the long wheelbase it gave a uniquely secure feel! I felt at home right away, despite the unlikely riding position and armchair on wheels feel of the bike.

The test ride went well, the bike so nicely turned out that not even I - as an avid umgweb follower - could carp about the 1800 notes that slid out of my bank account. The previous bike was a CBR400 so there was a total contrast between the machines. Where the high revving four wasn't really on the boil at seven grand, the Suzuki was beginning to gasp as its power ran out.

Suzuki claim 63 horses for the vee twin mill but the bike doesn't use all of that grunt at the top end because the riding position effectively limits top speed to the ton. The Intruder was really relaxed and laid back at 75-80mph, so much so that I rarely breached this speed. Much to the annoyance of various mates on replicas but I usually arrived at our destination around the same time. The replica riders used to piss around at petrol stops to let their limbs recover whereas I was in and out in a few minutes.

There didn't seem much point taking the engine beyond six grand. As well as some vibration seeping through the chassis, the power output quietened down, though the claimed peak is at seven grand. The gearbox, though hardly ever needed once on the open road, was the expected slick item that wasn't even upset by the shaft drive.

The latter rarely intruded on the handling which was only really set up for moderate speeds. Pushed much beyond 90mph the suspension went all floppy and the front end of the bike developed a mind of its own. Gently backing off in corners didn't throw the shaft off but slamming the throttle shut viciously tried to unhinge the swinging arm. The latter's mounts weren't exactly up to Forth Bridge standards.

The brakes were well matched rear drum and front disc. Used together they could pull up the Intruder hard enough to have the forks twisting and back end squirming. On its own, the rear drum didn't seem very effective whilst the front disc was prone to twisting the forks and sending the bike towards the gutter! The bike felt much more contented when they were used together, which is the way proper motorcycles should, anyway, be treated.

None of this really gives an idea of how comfortable and relaxed the VS750 was to ride. After a replica, felt like being on a plush armchair except that the engine was a rumbling vee-twin that always gave plenty of feedback to the rider. The bike actually encouraged me to extend short journeys, head further and further from home.

I actually disappeared for a week, phoned in sick (bit of a laugh as I'd never felt better!) and rolled the Suzuki on to the ferry and thence the French A-road equivalents. Admittedly, venturing on to the autoroute was quite likely to get me run down by speeding cages but even on the back roads the plod liked to leap out from behind trees and wave radar guns at speeding vehicles. The fines are huge!

It was dead easy to go all relaxed and laid back, just eat up the miles at a steady 70-80mph. I really hated having to wear a crash hat in the heat but god knows what level of fines they would apply if you went bareheaded.

I'd spend most of the day on the bike, with stops for lunch and petrol. If I found somewhere interesting I'd have a nose around but usually I managed 600 plus miles in a day. A slight amount of soreness in the arms and shoulders the only real sign of such mileages. Anyone who's done some mileage sat on a custom saddle will run a mile from your average replica!

At the Spanish border I was sorely tempted to keep on riding, forget about Blighty, but then I got to thinking about how little money I had! Harsh reality. With a pain in my heart I pointed the bike back home, a different route taken that involved plenty of hills and switchback curves that had the old Intruder wobbling away at both ends. The brakes overheated, began to fade, and I almost went off the side of a mountain. The bike was a bit out of its element, the only survival route to keep the throttle in check.

On the open road fuel was around 55mpg but it could vary 5mpg either side of that depending on the level of throttle abuse. Ridden very gently it'd turn in 75mpg, useful for eking out the not particularly generous fuel tank (about two and a half gallons). It never consumed any oil between 2500 mile changes but definitely needed the carbs balanced at that interval. Neglect that, the narrow angle vee would go a bit vibratory and generally feel out of sorts. The valves needing doing every 5000 miles.

Back in Blighty it was heavy overtime and lots of commuting. Because of its narrowness the bike would slide through traffic jams, just as long as I didn't try any violent right-angle turns when the excessive wheelbase would catch it out. Far faster than any cage, the scooters and step-thru's could beat me through heavily congested traffic - but who wants to ride such dire contraptions?

As winter approached some serious drawbacks with the custom stance were found. Not least the wet groin syndrome! I was perfectly perched to collect all and any stray rain water! Would leap off the bike with a soggy groin, look like I'd pissed myself. This wasn't far off the plot when I tried to use the front disc in anger after a heavy downpour. Didn't want to work for a few seconds and then clanged on with an almighty jerk that almost skidded the front wheel off the road. A tug on the bars saved the day.

I expected the finish to go off rapidly in the winter commute but it wasn't that bad - after I'd ruined the style by adding mudflaps to the guards. That stopped most of the crud from insinuating its ways into all the nooks and crannies - and on a watercooled vee there are an awful lot of them!

After a winter of daily commuting spots of rust were breaking through the chrome on the exhaust and a few brackets. Alloy rot lightly splattered the engine but nothing a quick wipe with Solvol couldn't solve. More serious, the front calipers seized up twice but responded to a strip down and clean up. Figure pads to last around 8000 miles - the rear drum never needed any attention.

The heftiness of the vee twin torque combined with the directness of its shaft drive meant it could be a bit skitterish on damp roads unless some very fine throttle and gearbox work was indulged. Someone who'd just leapt on the Intruder on a wet day might find it a touch frightening but as with most things time cures all - it's not something I really had to think about.

Still, spring was a very welcome sight, even if there was plenty of rain. At least my feet and hands actually had some feeling in them after a few miles. Another problem with the riding position, extremities were exposed to the full blast of the arctic cold.

At times I was almost the only bike on the road; certainly the only person foolish enough to ride a custom in winter. It was interesting to see the bikers emerge from their winter hibernation - laughably some of the replica riders refused to return my wave. It wasn't until the end of April that I saw my first Harley, which tells you all you need to know about their riders. Naw, I've always been a 100 percent biker, no car, and no lay up over the winter.

By the end of the second summer the bike had 29,700 miles on the clock. I'd detected some more vibration than normal and a bit less torque in its forward thrust. Wasn't burning any oil or making any nasty noises, so I put it down to general wear and tear. However, I was tempted by the bigger Intruder, had a test ride but concluded that 1400cc combined with a narrow vee twin angle was pushing things a touch too far.

By 35000 miles the engine was tapping away from the cylinder heads of both pots. Worn camshaft lobes - the hardening was being broken through to the weaker metal underneath. Made it next to impossible to set the valve clearances to perfection but I did the best I could and it was a lot less noisy. Knowing that the engine could go at any time meant that I couldn't trust the bike for any long distance touring, so it had to go.

I did try to find some replacements, would've gone for a whole set of cylinder heads, but 750cc parts weren't available from the breakers. There were plenty of 800cc Intruder bits from born-againers radically shortening their wheelbases by hitting cars. But no-one could tell me if the heads would swap straight over and I wasn't willing to blow the money on spec.

One of the local dealers had a Kawasaki VZ750 on offer. Same year but an import with only 6,700 miles on the clock. These aren't as popular as the Intruders but it gleamed away in the showroom and I was offered a good trade-in deal. Wouldn't let me have a test ride but three months guarantee. Probably not worth the paper it was written on, especially when the dealer found out about the Suzuki's knackered top ends.

The Kawasaki developed nearer 70 than 60 horses, a touch more poweful than the Intruder, but it also weighed in at 500lbs. A much heavier feeling machine that didn't sit quite so happily in the corners. Took me a few months to get a real handle on the machine as it often reacted in an unpredictable manner.

I eventually sussed that the rubber didn't really suit the bike and a set of Japlops transformed the feel of the Kawasaki. The front bake also had a mind of its own, never too sure how it would react to muscle - sometimes it needed lots of pressure, other times it was like a hair-trigger. Subsequent experimentation with different pads and new hydraulic fluid didn't help things very much. In the end I concluded that the fault was down to an incorrectly designed master cylinder that was mismatched with the rest of the hydraulics. I solved the problem eventually, but more on that later...

Acceleration was crisp enough, not much need to play with the gearbox. Just as well as the design was about ten years behind the Intruder's. Crunchy, noisy and rather loose despite the low mileage. Missed changes were rare but I never felt exactly thrilled when using the gearchange and throttle in anger.

The engine revelled in torque up to about the ton, wanting to charge the bike forwards and even popping on the overrun when I backed off - as if in protest. I always had to back off because the riding position went painful at exactly 71mph and the handling became rather like a frightened rat above 80mph. The suspension's damping went AWOL and that was that, big blancmange time just like some seventies icon.

Strangely, I found that the bike was a touch more frenetic than the Intruder and it was much more difficult to get into a laid back frame of mind, motor along at velocities to which the riding position and handling were suited. I was always pushing the Kawa near its limits (which were pathetic by sports' bike standards). Although it was a heavy old tug a lot of its mass was well tucked in and relatively low down, so it didn't do anything more than feel like it was turning plastic when the going got tough.

Nevertheless, plenty of pleasant rides were enjoyed rather than endured, two years worth of riding and about 30,000 miles before the back piston seized up. It freed up again after the mill had a chance to cool down and got me back home, a ride of about nine miles in which I never took my hand off the clutch nor went above 2500rpm.

Jap engines are much more civilised than Harleys but the price of that is increased complexity, what with their excess of cams, valves, watercooling, etc. The upshot of all that was about a million engine parts littered over my garage floor! The main damage was a shot piston ring; the bore I managed to hone with an attachment in the Black and Decker drill and the local Kawasaki dealer eventually supplied a ring - he seemed to think the achievement was almost heroic. Smug git!

The engine blasted back into life straight off, always a good sign. It then proceeded to run both harder and smoother, so the original ring may not have bedded in quite right! I was very impressed with my mechanical abilities and bored my mates no end with tales of improving the Kawa beyond recognition, which, of course, is pushing one's luck...

The back tyre developed a series of punctures that had me cursing and swearing at the bike's ridiculous mass. Pushing it any distance, left me with a near broken spine and covered in sweat. The punctures were a warning as the back tyre was losing chunks of rubber, perhaps because it was down to 2mm and could no longer cope with the mass and torque.

Heading into another winter the finish began to go off, chrome falling off fasteners and rust breaking out from under the paint. It wasn't easy to stage a revival because each time I cleaned the bike up it rained the next day and all the rust came back. Okay, the solution's pretty simple, don't ride customs through the winter but I've always demanded a certain year round ability from my machines.

I fortified my mind by looking through custom magazines and catalogues, figuring I could transform the rolling wreck come the spring. I fancied fitting actual Harley chassis parts to give it a Road King look! I would probably have been knocked off by incensed Angels as, already, they deemed the bike totally poxy and wouldn't return my nod of the head.

Things came to a head on one of those nasty February days. The Kawasaki had pissed me off by, overnight, developing a big patch of rust in the dead centre of the petrol tank! I looked up from this as I was motoring along to find that half a dozen council tossers had placed their refuse vehicles across the road. One aspect of the Blair government that hasn't been reported is that pissed off public sector employees are working to rule, causing total chaos right through the country.

I spied a motorcycle sized gap, only to have some clown shove his door open; would've taken my head off if I hadn't swerved out of its trajectory. The Kawasaki went into the side of another council vehicle at an awkward angle, effectively writing the front end off! The so-called workers found this hilarious and one helpful chap offered to bung it in the back of one of the refuse grinders. I was still gasping for breath, having been whacked in the groin several times by the twitching handlebar end. Talk about beating someone into submission.

Despite their heft, customs can be a bit fragile in crashes due to the long length of their forks. Much more recent stuff was fitted to the front end, which at least sorted out the marginal, and sometimes frightening, braking of the stocker. At this point I was quite tempted to get shot of the heap but enquires made as to the cost of a trade-in deal put me into a massive depression; despite working my butt off I still couldn't afford anything decent!

The VZ was disassembled into its components parts, cleaned down to the metal where necessary. Didn't have the time to get some of the bits rechromed but a local mechanic had some powder coating equipment and that sorted out most of the machine.

The following summer was one of unemployment which translated into long, hot rides in both the UK and abroad. I even thought about taking the machine despatching! I made some money decorating people's houses - incredibly boring and as soon as I had a pile of dosh I hit the road. In its rebuilt form, the Kawasaki would turn in 65mpg if I kept the revs below 5000rpm, which given the excess of torque and constraints on riding fast was easy enough, having grown weary of riding it on the edge.

This translated into the ability to do huge distances on the kind of budget that would bring tears to the owner of a step-thru. The bike was much more acceptable on the continent, everyone and his dog giving me a wave, its presence helped along by a very loud pair of mega's. It might not be a high speed missile but it sounded at idle as if it could take on a steamroller and win!

The upshot of that summer's madness was loads of good times and 57000 miles on the clock by the time the nights were closing in and there was a distinct chill in the air. I longed for the Spanish coast and wondered what I was doing working as a security guard for some multinational. It gave me the wherewithal to sign my name to a HP form for a new Intruder, a reasonable sum given in part-ex for the Kawasaki. Felt rather odd to come full circle back to where I started, albeit with a brand new sickle.

When I went back to the dealer for the first service he gave me an earful of abuse. The Kawa had broken down in less than 60 miles, the big-ends dead meat. He wanted his money back! I didn't get my free service but I did get out of there before he went violent. The final solution is to skip the country on the Intruder, sod the HP, go have some fun!

Dave L.