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I was expecting something wild and wacky. Instead, the stroker triple gave every impression of being civilized. My first taste of a real motorcycle after the CG125 learner, I was pleasantly surprised at how easy it was to ride. Burbled along below 5000 revs, then went a bit harder but didn't come close to lightening the front end.
Handling was good, especially after the worn out CG that had suffered no less than eight learner owners (and had gone on to another one when I sold it)! I could even slam the throttle shut without the back end going berserk - something for which Kawasaki triples were once infamous.
It was one of last KH models, therefore had scads of development. Only made 28 horses, not tuned to extremes like the original H1. The only area where the reality of its stroker nature appeared was the economy. Or lack thereof - 25-35mpg! I was always filling the tank up with oil, as well, so there was quite a lot of expense involved. Not brilliant as I was off to college. Whatever's said about student grants and their poverty, an awful lot of people were able to run cages but I could barely eat and run the KH at the same time. Rich daddies, I suppose, some real spoilt bastards that I took a delight in burning off on the Kawasaki.
I haven't come across a cage that could stay with it up to 70mph. On the motorway run down to London (from Leeds), any number of cars left me for dead. The KH indicated 90mph, was beginning to rumble in discontent - I was always surprised by the level of vibes when it was strung out. The cars streamed past at the ton, ton-ten, some blaring away when I was a bit slow to move over. The mirrors blurred into uselessness at those kind of speeds.
The riding position was good for 75-80mph, beyond that some pain appeared in my shoulders, neck and bum. I could hold out until the bike went on to reserve after about 90 miles but definitely needed a stretch and walk. For running around town, the bike was fine for a couple of hours.
The clutch overheated a little after too much town work, becoming vicious in action and sometimes dragging. The five speed gearbox was smooth and slick, a reflection of the 18,500 miles on the clock, but clanged away if I tried to operate it without the clutch. Despite the relative smoothness of the three cylinder power pulses, the drive chain needed plenty of attention to keep the gearbox slick. The chain was so stringy that it could've been the one that came with the bike. I ended up taking links out of the chain but it never actually failed.
One item that always appeared on the verge of failure was the front disc. You could tell its age from the lack of holes and the way the caliper was mounted in front of the forks rather than behind. The single disc made the wheel shimmy on the days when it worked with power but most of the time it had the same kind of fade as the CG's front drum! Unlike the Honda's safe reaction to wet roads with mild but steady braking, the KH's disc gave up the ghost when it rained even a little.
Wet weather lag was an extended experience that had my heart in my mouth until it suddenly slammed on when the contents of my stomach ended up in my underwear! A rather unpleasant smell added to the ever present sniff of burnt off oil. Did nothing for the gal's, who complained of ruined clothes and went all anal on me.
I did manage to extract the pads, which looked warped and were down to the metal. A pair of used EBC pads were persuaded in with a bit of file work (I'm not sure what they were off but the breaker assured me they would fit) but as might be expected they weren't brilliant. Better in the dry but vicious in the wet. The calipers didn't want to come apart so new brake fluid and half a can of WD40 sufficed. At least it stopped squeaking like starving mice trapped in an antic.
The overall finish was still in reasonable shape, from a few yards away it didn't look that old. Up close, there was a smattering of rust on the frame and the old alloy rot had got to a couple of the engine casings. Not bad for something that was 15 years old. Some wear did turn up in the headstock, five months down the line. The bars started to twitch in my hands every time I went beyond 60mph - the headstock bearings were a funny shape and colour! A lack of grease, I think, or maybe just plain old age as they could well have been the originals.
Another sign of age, the way the charging circuit started to malfunction at 22000 miles. The battery discharged overnight and the motor would often stutter when the lights were switched on. The latter were wholly inadequate for country road riding at night and the horn was a silly beep that was rightly ignored by the cagers. Despite the lack of load on the system it still couldn't cope. The problem turned out to be a nonstandard rectifier/regulator that stopped working when it became too hot. This was difficult to diagnose but one fellow student had a similar problem on his Suzuki GS550 and gave me the nod. A used replacement sorted that out but obviously did nothing to help the lights or horn.
I was pondering upgrading them when a series of starting and running problems confounded my feeling of well being. This was the switches falling apart, shorting out. More used replacements. A hint that engine wear was setting in came at 24000 miles when the bike no longer wanted to push through 80mph and took five minutes to start. It had always smoked a little, now became a bit like the MZ 250's that were popular with the working class students. Piston rings, those in the know suggested.
I decided to decoke the cylinder heads and the silencers. Loads of black gunge to be burnt off. The engine responded with a new sharpness and relative lack of smoke. 95mph came up on the speedo, maybe more possible but I backed off as the chassis felt like it was going to become all hinged in the middle. The wheel bearings were just beginning to go and by 26000 miles needed replacing. It wasn't the kind of bike on which you could happily ignore chassis wear, making demands on my pocket money all the time. Hard times, sob!
I kept the bike for another 3500 miles when I had the chance to sell it at a profit and buy a neat Z550 as a replacement. You don't see many Kawasaki triples on the road, most seem to have been revved into oblivion. Mine was beginning to become a bit tired - I expected major engine work at any moment, was happy to move on to something with a more robust nature. The bigger four's also much cheaper to run. On the other hand, the KH was cheap to buy and fun to ride.
Adrian Foster
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Stories of wild handling and vicious powerbands sharp enough to cut cardboard sprang to mind when I saw a Kawasaki 500 triple for sale. A week later I was the proud owner of a standard 1976 final production run KH500. The only improvements being a pair of Dunstall rear-sets. The KH was supposed to have more refined handling and saner power delivery than the previous rocket-like H1.
It was while riding the bike home that I started to notice the little things. Like the way the chain jumped the teeth on the rear sprocket when even mildly accelerating, an alloy plate welded on the engine clutch cover (not badly done just not mentioned by the dealer). Then there was the nearly bald rear TT100 and a persistent rattle from the standard centre exhaust pipe.
My new Mach 3 derivative was back in the dealers the next day to have new chain and sprockets and a new rear tyre fitted, a Conti this time, plus the full service the garage said had been done before I picked the bike up. The difference was fantastic, even the exhaust rattle had been fixed, a loose bolt that jiggled about in the pipe.
Performance, though quite spirited, gave the impression of being muted slightly and the handling, though not as bad as had been reported by journalists of the time, was decidedly vague at the rear end. Shot shocks and worn swinging arm bushes did not help. The latter were replaced and Girling shocks added. The difference was startling, no more straight line tank slappers or pogoing around corners on all three (two tyres and a leg).
It was now possible though not recommended to attempt to close the throttle midway through bends without soiling one's underwear and the acceleration, though still not all I hoped for, was adequate.
An article on how to midly tune Kawasaki triples appeared in a copy of Motorcycle Maniacs, junking the air box, mild porting, rejetting, etc. All my plans were put on the back burner by a woman in a VW who decided to see how far Kawasaki forks could be bent backwards by pulling out of a side road in front of me. My heart sank at the sight of my once lovely, spotless triple laying bent and leaking petrol in the gutter.
Actually, the worst parts were the front forks and wheel, a slight dent in the petrol tank and some scratches on the silencers. My injuries were a broken pinky on my right hand (which through incompetence at the hospital is still crooked today). Apart from that, both the bike and I came off quite lightly. Not so the Beetle, a mate saw it in the local scrapyard two weeks later, the body shell had been bent by the force of the impact, making repair impractical. Poetic justice or what?
Whilst the bike was off the road, I gave the tank a new paint job, the barrels were ported to the MCM spec, the heads skimmed and the carbs fitted with larger main jets (100s, up from 75). The dealers used the insurance money to fit a Z650 front end with twin discs and a set of flat bars along with a front Conti tyre to match the rear.
Come the big day, me and a mate were pushing the newly resurrected bike up and down our road trying to suck enough petrol through the vacuum petrol tap to reach the cylinders (wondered what that prime position was for). Having pushed the thing backwards and forwards for ages and getting nothing, my mate decided he'd had enough and was off home. I pleaded with him to just give it one more go.....we were just slowing to a halt, exhausted, when it suddenly lit up.
Full throttle in first gear! The bike leapt forward like a greyhound coming out of the trap with me hanging on like grim death, side saddle at an angle of thirty degrees with no helmet, jacket or gloves on a writhing, wild motorcycle. Control finally came at the end of the road, 300 yards later, leaving me a quivering wreck. When I saw my mate writhing around on the road I thought the bike had done for him as well but I found him laughing so hard that tears were running down his cheeks. He pointed to the road and I noticed the black line snaking in the same direction the bike had taken off in.
The back wheel had spun for around 100 yards until I had gathered enough sense to close the throttle. Seems my mild tuning had not been so mild after all. There was a definite power band that came in suddenly at 6000rpm and disappeared just as quick at 8 grand. Using Belray two stroke oil and K & N air filters on the standard pipes the bike would pull 115mph easily on stock gearing. After fitting a smaller rear sprocket (two teeth less), the bike would pull a top speed of 128mph at the redline.
After a particularly enjoyable run to Bridlington one Sunday, the bike had become rather loud and rattly, refusing to tickover cleanly. The centre exhaust baffle had blown nearly all the way out of the pipe and was pointing skywards....gave me a lot of trouble that baffle until it finally blew out altogether.
On route to buy a set of Allspeeds a few days later, the clutch cable came out of the actuator fork. The 130 mile round trip ahead did not deter me and the clutch was not really a problem as long as I didn't stop. Managing this to the edge of the city was no mean feat, but a set of quick change traffic lights saw my downfall. Rolling the bike forward and then snicking it into first or second gear worked fine until a dealer was found with the correct size allen key. A more relaxed journey home took place with a pillion struggling with three seemingly alive, awkwardly shaped expansion chambers.
With the Allspeeds fitted, the power band came in at 5500rpm and disappeared at around 8250rpm, but the engine pinked badly until some larger main jets were fitted (130s this time). The howl the pipes produced as the power took hold sounded just like Mick Grant's H2R racer - wicked!
The first outing was to Grimsby and back via Caistor with a mate and his lady along on a KH400 in case anything went wrong. My pillion being of a nervous disposition, we took it steady until the journey home when she on the back urged me to go faster. This was it. Down a gentle hill the speed built up to around the ton in no time, when we all noticed the tightening bend rapidly approaching. A real white knuckle job ensued, the curve eventually exiting into a short straight at over 70mph with the uncertain fear of ending up in the hedge uppermost in my mind. Both bikes coped extremely well with that even if both riders took a right ear bashing from their pillions.
Then came the trip which ultimately led me to part with my triple. A 66 mile jaunt which started off with a full tank of fuel and the bike going on to reserve just as we reached our destination.....that worked out at 22mpg! The excitement in riding the bike was still there but from then on so was the vision of petrol disappearing down a small whirlpool in the corner of the tank. It only did 30mpg around town as well. When petrol prices started to rocket the magic somehow went out of it and I replaced it with a more economical machine, but one which did not have the character of the old KH500.
It never let me down or threw me off through bad handling, it was a lot of fun to ride and captured Kawasaki's slogan at the time, Let The Good Times Roll!
Gary Stevenson
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I was offered a P reg KH250, a basket case, for next to nothing. How could I refuse? The only good part was the bottom half of the motor. A few weeks later there was a R reg KH250 for sale that was excellent save for the crank. Combining one with the other, plus a few new bits, and a working bike emerged. As new rings had been fitted I had to run it in for 300 miles, keeping the revs down to 5000rpm. It felt quite quick, but then I hadn't ridden a big bike for ten years. The noise the two stroke triple made was brilliant....any triple sounds good; and better with expansion chambers.
The redline is at 8500rpm with maximum torque at 7000rpm. Normally, I only rev mine to 7000rpm, little is achieved by redlining. There isn't really a power band compared to things like RDs. Starting is no problem - cold starts need use of the choke, although in fact it's an enrichment device. I only experienced oiling up problems when stop/start riding with a cold engine - then the triple very soon becomes a twin or single. It is only appeased by taking out the offending plug and cleaning it, revving madly doesn't help.
The KH does have a big bike feel to it. It's no lightweight at 350lbs plus fuel. It's not very fast either - it was okay in 1976 but something like a KR1 is from another planet. One day I was even blown off by a lunatic on a TZR 125. Top speed is between 85 and 90mph with the engine pulling easily into the red in top. It will accelerate faster than most family cars and cruises well at 60 to 70mph all day long. Over 50mph there is no need to change down as top pulls so well you are always looking for the non existent sixth gear.
Fuel consumption stays around 40mpg which is okay but the tank is just too small and only a 100 to 110 miles can be covered before it goes on to reserve. Oil consumption is fine at about 120mpp. I always use Shell Super Two stroke which comes in four litre cans from the local motor factor. It's semi synthetic, whatever that means, but works well and doesn't smoke much and is a lot cheaper buying it like that.
The bike handles well enough but has a strange habit of understeering. It has to physically pulled into a fast turn by pushing the bars downwards. I had problems with notchy low speed steering but that was caused by half the bearings being missing from the headraces. It suffers from sidewinds, the front suspension is too hard and lacks travels, the rear is oversprung and underdamped. It rattles yer teeth. The front end is always light and seems to threaten a tank slapper. The disc works in the wet. Carbs out of balance cause much vibes.
The stator corroded after I left the bike out in the cold for a winter and various wires have worn away. The tyres are Michelin M38s, look like lasting 12000 miles front and half that on the back. They feel very edgy in the wet. Cycle parts are becoming rare and are harder to obtain than engine bits.
I wonder if it is possible to fit an H1 500 engine into the chassis? After all, the 400 was fitted into the same frame. Certainly an interesting thought. One day I'd like to own a BMW twin but for now the KH will do. The problem is I keep forgetting that it is nearly fifteen years old........it's different to 1990 bikes, isn't it?
John Dalton
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The test ride went quite well, if you consider doing a hundred yard wheelie and dropping the front wheel at a angle as doing well. The resulting wobble lasted another hundred yards and a dose of tarmac rash was only avoided by a hurried dab with my boot.
When I returned the machine to the owner he did not look very impressed but brightened up when I made an offer of £1750 against the two grand he was demanding. We eventually settled on £1875 and I was only too happy to start adding to the 22000 miles already on the clock of this 1989 gem of two stroke technology.
You either love these kind of raunchy bikes or you throw up at the thought of clouds of blue smoke and the cost of consumables. The tyres were worn down to the carcass and I put the twitchy, ultra fast handing down to the this. If you moved any part of your body a fraction of an inch the machine veered off in that direction. It required fanatical concentration to maintain a straight line.
The two stroke twin had a delightful howl, down to the race pipes, and punched out a liquid, wailing rush of power once the speedo hit 7000rpm. Hence the propensity to wheelies. Despite the clip-ons which must have put a lot of weight on the front end, all you had to do was whip open the throttle in first, second or third and the machine would instantly be airborne. Similarly in the wet, massive wheelspin would result from less than cautious use of the throttle.
The engine featured watercooling, naturally, and something called KIPS which I never fully fathomed but I guess aided induction in some manner. The reason I never became immersed in the engine is that as far as the rider was concerned all you had to do was add oil and forget it, at least until something terminal occurred. More of which later.
A new set of Avons was bunged on by the local tyre dealer, not without a lot of abusive language due to the low profile nature of the tyres. I hate to think what it would be like to change tyres in the middle of nowhere, but as they are tubeless they can be fixed with a repair kit, so I suppose that's okay.
I have noticed that modern tyres don't have the same tendency towards punctures as the older type, one big nail went in, hit the banding inside the tyre and turned through 90 degrees - I was able to pull it out and there was no damage to the tyre, no air escaping. Even with the new tyres the handling was still fast and twitchy. In a bike capable of over an indicated 130mph this is not very inspiring.
The single shock rear end was in particular subject to a lot of jumping about on quite mild roads and at quite moderate speeds. The shock was the original Kawasaki and replacement might have improved things, but I never got around to it. To be fair, it didn't seem to get any worse if you went faster and there was excellent ground clearance available to exploit the grip of the tyres. I have never taken a bike over quite so far before.
These lightweight strokers with a grin inducing power to weight ratio (at around 50hp it was approaching an awe inspiring 200hp/litre) are great fun for throwing through tight bends. Here, you can forgive the effort involved to keep them on the straight and narrow on more boring roads, and instead revel in singing up and down the six speed gearbox. The latter has a light change and precise feel, as does the clutch. Clutchless changes are not a problem.
Low speed running did not result in fouled plugs or any engine stalling, there was just not much by way of usable torque. Running on stock pipes broadens the power range but loses the edge and the window shattering wail. The latter is great for short runs but becomes a bit unnerving if you are forced to indulge in a continuous motorway drone.
I have used the bike for touring but there are two problems. The seat is very uncomfortable after 50 miles and the fuel averages 30 to 35mpg, the latter both expensive and limiting the range of the bike to about 90 miles. My body is quite comfortable with the clip-ons and rear-sets and benefits from the protectiveness of the fairing - someone less thin and long of arm might well find it total torture.
It's quite possible to cruise along at as much as 110mph for as long as the fuel holds out. However, in some adverse conditions that's its pratical top speed. In neutral conditions it'll eventually creep up to 135mph on the clock but it takes a long straight to do that. Cruising at 90mph is much more sensible and there's a very useful burst of acceleration left in hand to get out of any difficult situations that might arise.
On A roads, doing say 60mph in top, will need a change down to fourth and a bit of clutch abuse to put the engine back in its power band in order to produce some rapid acceleration for overtaking. On some roads gearchanging takes on a rather crazy aspect and you have to work the left leg like a madman to stay ahead of rivals on larger bikes. It's great fun to buzz 600s until their riders overcook it and run off the road. Things like Z1s can be blown into the weeds if you're willing to use the gearbox.
Falling over isn't too bad either. The large box section frame is resistant to bending - I went straight into the side of a car at 30mph and got away with bent forks and wheel. I went over the bars and over the car, losing most of the momentum with a series of sommersaults and was able to leap back up - just as well there were no lamp-posts or other cars in the way.
In another spill on diesel, the bike just scraped along the floor on the GRP, only damage was bent levers. The whole of one side of my jean was torn off and I got a lot of pain from the gravel rash but no permanent injury from that one.
Another time......no, it's too embarrassing to go on. Suffice to say, I was able to repair the KR-1 easily and cheaply in my own garage with a bit of ingenuity. Generally, finish was okay and the bike polished up well. The only chassis components to fail were the swinging arm bearings at 32,400 miles, due I would guess to a lack of sufficient grease upon assembly.
I managed to get 45600 miles on the clock after a mere 8 months of abuse. This shows that the bike was immense fun to ride.....I found it hard to keep off the KR, during the summer I used to do 50 to 150 miles every night just for the kicks. A whole pack of us on two stroke 125 and 250 race replicas would scream around the countryside annoying farmers, sheep and anyone else who got in the way. Happy days.
The end came one sunny Sunday afternoon, with the sun high in the bright blue sky, not a care in the world other than to extract the maximum amount of joy out of the ride, myself and three other young hoodlums screaming along the winding A46 with the speedo anywhere between 50 and 100mph. The engine seized up solid, as did the back wheel. The bike would have spat me off if I hadn't had the presence of mind to pull in the clutch lever. As I was out in front my sudden retardation also scared qthe shit out of my mates and we were all white faced and trembling by the time we came to a halt.
It seems unlikely that there was some fault in the carburation due to the race pipes, for it had done at least 25000 miles on that set up. Perhaps it was just old age. I have been phoning around breakers over the past week and have not yet located a KR-1 engine that has not been seized itself, but I shall keep looking until I find one. The bike is far too much fun to discard just because the motor seized up.
G.H.R
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The advert was vague but intriguing - Kawasaki, 750, £300 - followed by a name and address on the other side of town. I hoped that it might be a 750 four but suspected that it was more likely the twin. Imagine my surprise when a 1976 750 triple was revealed by the owner. He had owned it since 1980, ridden it for a few years then tucked the bike at the back of his garage It looked original to me, but then my expertise on Kawasaki triples is vague memories of them screaming around the town in the seventies. It wouldn't run, a quick poke at the kickstart revealed the internals still moved but back pressure was minimal. The expected white alloy corrosion and tarnished chrome were both there, but the paint was still okay and there were no obvious chassis problems. I offered him £200, we eventually agreed on £250.
Pushing home 450lbs of dead metal was not my idea of fun, but there wasn't any other cheap option. The owner told me he had filled the engine with oil and I tended to believe he had expended some time and thought because the chain was still covered in oil and the cables still worked. A long list of bits were bought, including plugs, pads, shoes and a complete oil change done.
It took a lot of kicks to finally fire up. I was despondent as soon as I heard the engine. The rumbles and knocks surely told of main bearing demise. The cloud of blue smoke intensified as I tried the throttle.....the noises became no worse, maybe there was some hope. Nothing for it but a quick run up the street. Impressive amounts of power came in as soon as 2000 revs were called up, surprising me as I thought the triples were all rev crazy. When it hit five grand I found out what all the myths were about, the front end rearing up as the bike screamed along in second gear. I hastily backed off and adjusted my underwear. Returning to the house I was wearing a huge grin.
Test, tax and insurance were duly acquired without any problems. The four gallon tank was filled and the open road beckoned. Ten miles later I pulled into the local tyre shop. I assumed that the old TT100s had gone hard and this was the cause of all the wobbling. There were some Conti's on special offer so a set were bunged on. Back on the road I was astounded to find that the handling was no better.
To be fair, the bike was reasonable up to about 75mph but after that it twitched when it hit a bump and weaved all the time. The wind pressure from the very high bars was something else and could not have helped the handling. Coming out of bends under power was very frightening, as well as the bike having a very loose feel the front end went light, the bars wobbling in my hands. I mean, I wasn't even using much of the power. I started to dread thinking about going into a wheelie when halfway through a bend.
Another annoying aspect was the large cloud of smoke the bike left behind, it seemed to intensify every time I opened the throttle. Back home, I was amazed by the rattles and clangs coming from the engine, but as before they didn't become much worse with the revs. I hadn't seen a triple on the road for ages so there was no-one I could talk with locally to see if this was normal. There was 22,500 miles on the clock and the previous owner had denied ever taking off the cylinder heads, so it could have been on the original pistons and bores.
The suspension was shot, it was probably wasn't much cop as new. A pair of Konis were fitted to the rear and a set of heavy duty springs I had in the garage went straight in the front forks. The bike felt much stiffer but it still weaved and twitched even on a dead smooth road. Flat bars, thought I. So, I fitted some. It made a significant difference, the extra weight over the front forks quietening down the twitchiness. On one motorway run I persuaded the speedo past the ton in fifth (top) gear. Remarkably, when the engine came on to its power band, it flung us forward at a tremendous pace to an indicated 120mph.
The bike hadn't felt bad, just a gentle weave but when I backed off the throttle there was some real shaking of its head. By the time 70mph was back on the clock I felt like Buffalo Bill. After much reflection I've come to the conclusion that the bike has awful steering geometry and a rotten frame, neither of which I can do much about.
Another annoying aspect is fuel economy. The bitch doesn't do better than 25mpg, once it went on to reserve after only 65 miles! It also needed a pint of oil every 75 miles, although the gearbox level never needed topping up and the change was surprisingly good for a machine of this era. Or it would have been if I'd had Charles Atlas style muscles, for the clutch was heavier than that on a Norton Commando I once tried. The gearchange objected to clutchless changes by making graunching noises.
The Kawasaki was good fun in town, where it would take just about everything in the traffic light GP. The engine was very wide, though, and I nearly took off the alternator cover a few times. The front disc brake still worked in the dry but had the dreaded lag in the wet. The rear drum was a life saver at such times, although there was also a bit of engine braking from the two stroke triple.
Spark plugs only lasted for 700 or so miles and the points (on the end of the crankshaft) needed adjusting at about that interval to stop the engine backfiring or refusing to rev beyond 5000rpm. Other than that, it was just a case of filling the tanks with oil and petrol. The longest distance I went in a day was 275 miles, which was quite enough as the seat and vibes conspired to make more than a 100 miles tiresome. The frequent fuel stops were a welcome relief. The triple cylinder wail did not impress me much, as the motor sounded so tinny; I am, anyway, a four stroke fan.
I tried various different riding techniques in an attempt to master the beast, but it seemed too heavy and powerful to ever approach civility in its road matters. The worst aspect was that its handling was totally unpredictable. There were times when it was possible to motor along at 90mph in relative stability but at other times at as little as 60mph the machine would dance violently all over the road. I never actually fell off, but this is probably down to my innate cowardice rather than any natural ability the chassis might possess.
On the other hand, parking the triple up in any town centre would have some fool come over to tell me he used to own one just like it and weren't they the greatest bikes ever. On one occasion I let a 200lb enthusiast relive his dreams by sitting on the beast and the centrestand snapped under him. The bike topped over, the guy crushing a Tomos moped and Honda CG125 under his obese form. I haven't laughed so much for ages. I charged him £25 for breaking the centrestand, but apart from a few scratches the terrible triple was unhurt.
I did 12000 miles in 18 months, nothing much went wrong with the bike as long as it was fed its consumables and the ignition timing was checked regularly. The engine felt as happy at 120mph as it did at 60mph, although the rider and chassis were certainly a lot more concerned. I didn't enjoy riding the bike very much, if the truth be told - sitting on the surprisingly high seat wondering if it was going to try to throw me off was not conducive to peace of mind.
You won't believe what happened. I went to the motorcycle show on the bike and met a real triple enthusiast there. He had waited for me to come back to the machine in an apparent frenzy of expectation, saying he hadn't seen one in such an original state for years and years. When he offered me £1500 for it I nearly fell over in shock. The next weekend he came down with the dosh and left in a haze of blue smoke with a huge grin of happiness (or perhaps insanity) on his face. He wheelied the bike the whole length of my street, the engine making a terrible din, then he was gone. Perhaps he had more guts than myself, able to thrash the machine to the limit everywhere. If so, I don't rate his chances of making his next birthday very highly.
Donald Saunders
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There are two quite distinct breeds of motorcyclists - those who love strokers and those who can't abide them. I obviously fall into the former category, having owned a whole string of the wild beasts over the last ten years. The latest is my Kawasaki KH400 - a wailing triple that has seen too many rebuilds, done too many miles and even spent some time on the race track in earlier days.
The motor is more or less in stock form, these days, though not in particularly good fettle if you went by the noises it makes. The engine rattled even when rebored, laid down an anti-social smoke-screen and made an awful racket out of the rusty silencers - I did run on expansion chambers for a while but they made the mill go dead below 5000rpm; too much hassle during the daily commute in town.
As a reliable means of transport it leaves a lot to be desired. There's the problem of the spark plugs fouling up, turning the engine into a twin or single. Most disturbing to be screaming along only to have half the engine going dead, the power abruptly cut off like it'd hit a brick wall. Brings tears to the eyes when it happens just as I'm in the middle of an overtaking manoeuvre. Figure spark plug life in hundreds rather than thousands of miles.
I usually change them every 250 miles as this is when the engine requires a major service, the carbs going so far out that the already quite fierce vibes turn amazingly intense. I've had minor brackets fracture and footrests fall off!
The vibes are never entirely absent but least annoying when the bike is cruised in the 75 to 90mph range, the engine able to hold the latter speed with surprising ease. There's even a bit of acceleration on hand to the ton.
The chassis was never as bad as the bigger H1's reputation suggested, although the bike sported a GPz550 front end and a pair of Girling shocks, along with a heavily braced swinging arm and some very expensive Metz tyres. I've seen one stock H1 bounce right off a country road, so I know that these mods are necessary - few bikes that have not had some essential alterations will have avoided writing themselves off by now.
Not that the KH could ever be called perfect. The steering geometry and flimsy frame made sure of that. It didn't weave too much on a straight, smooth road but in bumpy bends the handlebars twitched in my grip and the bike would wander way off the required line with a mind of its own.
It was safer than the bigger triples in that power could be backed off when banked over with none of the usual nastiness. An H1 could be a real shocker in that department, the novice rider doing the obvious thing to stop all the shaking and weaving - backing off the throttle - only to find that the amplitude of the shakes was thus increased!
For a bike that weighed only 400lbs and could be wheelied with ease, throwing the 400 through a series of bends was hard work indeed, the triple taking on the feel of a 500lb four. I'd fitted clip-ons which obviously didn't help with the leverage, but even when the stock cow-horns were fitted it was still difficult going.
With stock air-filter and pipes, there is enough torque to run along at commuting speeds, although this is a recipe for oiling up the plugs if it isn't given a bit of throttle every five minutes. Unless the engine is revved hard, when gear whine dominates, the rattles and pinging noises from the engine makes it sound as if all the ball bearings are falling apart and the piston rings are breaking up.
Commuting speeds improves fuel economy to nearly 40mpg, something it'll maintain at 60 to 70mph cruising speeds. Normally, though, I don't manage better than 30mpg and it's quite easy to go down to 25mpg. Together with an insatiable appetite for oil, this makes the 250 miles a week of commuting more expensive than taking the car.
That's okay, I save a huge amount of time using the Kawa and have lots more fun. It's not every machine that lets you start the day with a 200 yard wheelie, or lets you cut the ton on a bit of dual carriageway, or allows a wild blast of acceleration once 6000 revs are hit. Stomach churning, grin inducing stuff!
The braking from the GPz front end is brilliant, the twin discs able to stop the meagre mass instantly. With the slightly dubious nature of the chassis and still fervent bursts of acceleration, it pays to have a decent set of brakes out front. The rear drum is but rarely used hard, but when it has been did not produce any traumatic surprises.
One sign of age is the gearbox, which would put a BMW to shame. Very much an acquired art to successfully negotiate a path through the false neutrals and horrendous noises when the incorrect pressure or speed are used. Most of my friends who have tried the Kawa returned full of horror at the nature of the box.
Third has become very precarious, often not engaging and sometimes slipping out of gear. The motor can cope with a second to fourth change without becoming bogged down but the gap is such that it slows down the acceleration to a level where many a rat 250 sails past until I am able to work up to the power band again.
The clutch doesn't help matters, the plates not lasting more than 5000 miles, the whole action very grabby and direct. I once had a cable break whilst waiting at a pedestrian crossing. The bike leapt forward about a yard, whacking some old dear in the leg. She toppled over on top of a young infant who immediately started wailing like the whole world was about to end. The Kawa had locked itself into first gear, only movable by lifting the back wheel off the ground - there were few in the assaulted group of peds who were willing to lend a hand. I had to take the chain off before I could push the bike home.
It was a waste of time trying to buy parts from the local dealer - they either took months to arrive or cost more than I'd originally paid for the bike. Much better to buy a machine for spares, scour breakers for suitable, not necessarily KH, parts or use car bits where possible. I made up my own cables, a quite profitable side-line as I supplied a number of friends as well, at much cheaper prices than stock.
The vibes do in the electrics on these triples, all that was left of the KH's original equipment was the alternator. Bits from later Kawa's fitted when the OE stuff gave trouble and the bike rewired by my own hands - not something I want to repeat as it took days to make everything work okay.
Overall appearance is much nearer to rat than pristine. The paint finish is terrible, nothing much can be done to stop the endemic rot. When rust rules every surface I am assailed by guilt, but a quick clean and paint up doesn't last more than a few months. I think in about a month a couple of the silencers will fall off.
Despite all the problems, the KH has kept running for the past year and 14,500 miles without needing an engine strip (except for the clutch). As it had obviously led a hard life, I found this impressive enough to overcome its many defects. The fun factor is high if you like living a little on the wild side.
The 400 might well be the best of the bunch, without the madness of the bigger bikes nor the poor longevity of the 250. I paid 400 notes for mine, off a friend who I knew had done a good job on the engine rebuild.
There might be the odd one around still on the original motor but most have had lots of rebuilds by now. Sensible chassis mods plus original carb and exhausts are important if it's going to be used for the daily jaunt to work. I've seen lots of old dogs with high prices, but also bought a seized one for spares for only £75. There's plenty of room to cut a good deal.
A.S.R.
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My KH250 was built up from three different bikes, all bought as dogs in boxes. Ended up with one good bike in lime green with the loudest spannies in the world. Carburation was so extreme that from cold the only way it'd scream into life was with a bump start. The one guy who'd tried to steal it was found slumped over the bars from kickstart exhaustion. He had trouble both walking and breathing after I'd finished with him, having found my ignition lock ruined by a screwdriver.
The KH weighs only 350lbs, was quite easy to push down the road and bounce on to the saddle. After a night in the pub it was an entirely different matter. Many were the times I ended up wrestling on the tarmac with the triple rather than roaring up the road on one wheel. I reckon if I was sober enough to accomplish a bump start then I wasn't drunk enough to crash!
The engine had modded ports, oversized carbs and high compression pistons. That added up to sod all power below 5000 revs then all hell breaking loose as the three combustion chambers finally began to work. When that happened in first gear there was no need to yank on the bars, the bike went vertical so fast that it was dead easy to tip right over.
If the exhaust was noisy it didn't deaden the characteristic engine rattles and knocks, which at the 2000rpm tickover convinced all but the most deaf spectator that the motor was but moments off seizing up. I'd learnt to ignore it as the noises were there right after a crank rebuild and rebore.
On one occasion some mean looking dude on a Harley chop tried to cut the tank in half with a chain whilst we waited at the lights. His face looked really pained from the noise and he was about three times my size. I should've protested about the large dent in my tank but the lights changed and I went for the throttle before he could gather his strength for a second attempt. I left him for dead with the front wheel at head height for a few hundred yards.
I didn't even slow down for the bend once back on to two wheels, taking a wide, wide line with both ends of the bike squirming all over the place and the frame turning plastic. That was pretty much what you'd expect above 70mph. The suspension was tightened up but that just transferred all the road shocks even more efficiently straight into the frame. Having owned an infamous H1, which was really vile, I was never really worried by the KH, it was just a matter of sitting tight and ignoring all the bouncing, grinding and howling.
Had I wanted to lose speed rapidly the single front disc would've been useful had not the braking forces threatened to tear the forks out of their yokes. The uneven forces fed into the fork by the single sided disc displayed distressing effects when banked over. It was like playing Russian Roulette in so far that I had little idea which direction the bike was going to leap off towards and the compressed suspension encouraged the exhaust to dig into the ground. When that happened you fell off!
Engine bars were necessary as the triple cylinder engine was as wide as a middleweight four and it was dead easy to rip off the ends of the crankshaft if the bike hit the tarmac. The couple of scrapes I'd experienced were, mercifully, minor with little damage to either myself or the bike. Despite the apparent frailty of the chassis the KH proved to be relatively robust.
Ridden within the speed limits (when forced into such silliness by a following cop car) the chassis was almost good. It only seemed stressed when using the power hard in bends and when the top speed of 105mph (on the optimistic clock) was approached on the straights. Minor bumps, though, could send the chassis into a suicidal frenzy.
The common Kawasaki triple trait of increasing that frenzy when backing off the throttle was largely but not totally eradicated on the smallest triple. Worn tyres or chassis bearings would bring back such H1 traits with a vengeance. I felt it safest to replace the rubber every 6000 miles although there was over 3mm of tread left. The handling was so weird that no particular make of tyre stood out as worthy of note; I just bought the cheapest set that was available (don't, whatever you do, mix makes!).
The other thing for which these triples are famous is wallet emptying fuel consumption. I know one guy with a low mileage, summer only KH250 in stock nick who reckons that he gets nearly 50mpg. I've never bettered 35mpg so I very much suspect that nearly means 41mpg! Gonzo riding (as in drunken madness, the only time I did drugs I spewed my guts up for the following week) turned in 20mpg, maybe 22mpg! 25mpg was relatively easy to attain and some constant 80mph cruising would turn in 30mpg.
Oil was just as bad. With rings wearing out in less than 7500 miles it was always mind warping to watch the oil consumption increase from 80mpp to 40mpp! Any long run needed a five litre can strapped on the seat, the angle of which tended to spit it off after a few miles. One time the can was splattered by a following biker, which caused someone else to fall off on the oil slick. He was all for kicking the shit out of me as I, foolishly, hadn't done a runner. His GPX600 was a write-off but his full (pink!) leathers had saved him from serious damage. In the end he decided claiming on the insurance would suffice; the engine was on its last legs!
On these kind of runs, fuel and oil aside, I was happy enough to scream along A-roads at 90mph or so. Secondary vibes were a bit intense, amplified by my firm, almost desperate, grip on the bars; a necessity to keep the KH on course.
Natch, if it rained I wouldn't have gone anywhere near that fast. Even with better HT leads and caps the engine would still cut in and out to a rhyme of its own making that I was never able to predict. The faster we went the worse it became, the spark breaking down at higher revs and huge plumes of water being fed off the shorty, sporty front mudguard. Luckily, it was relatively well behaved below 60mph, which was about all the chassis was good for on damp roads. There was no way I could hope to control the wild slides on wet roads.
The sit up and pray riding position also amplified the effects of any rain. I found the most effective clothing for long tours was a tight fitting waxed cotton Barbour under the leather with another bulky Barbour on top. This gave me a most impressive physique and even in the worst English weather the water never got through the inner jacket. It did make any quick movements awkward and I always started the Kwack before putting on the final layers of clothing!
Comfort was quite reasonable as the seat, bars and pegs weren't standard and complemented each other well. I could do 500 miles in a day with the vibes the largest comfort problem. Reliability between frequent rebuilds was good; I always knew when the main bearings were on the way out by the way the increased vibration cracked the downpipes.
Despite all the problems - a large stash of spares meant that rebuilds rarely cost more than a hundred notes (once a year) - the KH250 was always a Good Times machine that urged me on to greater madness and always thrilled with the wail from the silencers when the power snarled in. Never a day went by when I didn't get a buzz out of riding the little triple, it turned the five mile commute into work into a glorious test of my reflexes and the plod's tolerance of local hoodlums (good, it seems, they haven't booked me yet).
Most of the KH250s still on the road are in nice if modified nick. Most of the hacks being bought up for spares. A nice one can be had for five hundred notes, which given the almost complete lack of practical value seems about right as they are still great fun. I've had mine for the past five years and it's probably gone around the clock by now. Apart from the frame and crankcases, though, few of the bits are original.
Larry Kline
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'A bike with a bit of history there, mate. Be worth more than a Vincent in ten years time. I'm not even keen on selling it, you know...'
These back street dealers revel in their own words, but I let it float over me as I took in the state of the 1969 grey import from the States. A stocker with only eleven grand on the clock but well faded, right down to the tuffs of grass on the back of the swinging arm.
'Can I have a test ride, then?'
'No chance, mate. Insurance, innit? You can go on the back with Mad Derrick, if you want. He'll give the motor a good workout for you, no doubt about that!'
Mad Derrick turned out to be six and a half feet of youth in an oil splattered set of bright orange overalls. His ancient Griffin helmet had a large crack in it and huge areas where the GRP had been worn down to the matting. Wraparound shades so densely black that even a blind man would've complained. He was dribbling with enthusiasm as the silencers crackled into life and the H1 did a veritable dance on its stand.
Both the salesman and I coughed and spluttered as the showroom filled up with noxious muck out of the silencers.
'It'll soon clear up,' he muttered and choked, surely with the kind of optimism reserved solely for religious nutters who think the end of the world is nigh. The heavily polluted High Street outside the showroom came as a welcome relief, like a cold beer on a hot day. The Kawasaki sounded like it belonged on a race track, causing ped's to cringe in fear and cagers' eyes to pop out in disbelief that such things should be allowed on the road...somewhere along the line the baffles had either been ripped out or corroded to dust.
There then followed an exhilarating, exciting and dangerous ride through town, along a busy dual carriageway and a final blast through some country lanes. Mad Derrick told me to lean forward, he crouched over the petrol tank, his lips in communion with the front mudguard. And still the thing spent more time on the back wheel than on both. The acceleration and vibration added up to blurred vision and a strong feeling that I was about to die. The bike bounced around corners like the wheels were falling out, tried to go sideways whenever the throttle was opened up.
'Bit of a goer, what?' The dealer screamed when we returned. 'There, see, she's running nice and clean now she's had a blast. I really don't want to see her go out of the showroom but as you're obviously taken with her, let's settle on two and a half?'
I was speechless for a while, thinking no way was I going to lose my heart to such a vile thing. But the dealer didn't look like he'd take kindly to my walking out.
'I was thinking more around the grand mark.'
'You wasting my time, boy? It's a classic motorcycle! For cash, without a guarantee, sold as seen, I could maybe do you two grand.'
'Well, I'll have to think about it.' I got out of there fast, a little disappointed that he hadn't tried to stop me. Problem was, over the next week the bike got to me more and more. I went to see another H1 advertised for £1500, which turned out to be a real rat in shiny clothes, couldn't even get its front wheel off the ground! So back to the dealer, offered £1750 cash, right there and then, told him it was all I had. He agreed to the deal, took the money and then basically threw the bike and I out into the street. Acted like I'd just robbed him.
The Kawa triple shrieked into life first gentle kick but wouldn't settle down to an orderly tickover. Noise, smog and vibration made it seem very primitive. First time at the controls, surprisingly easy to ride at low revs and handling seemed much saner than all the stories had indicated. Got her into fourth before I gave the throttle a blast - the bloody thing reared up, blocking out my forward vision until I slammed the throttle shut, when the back wheel squirmed aggressively. The throttle's really an on/off switch and it took my instincts some time to match up to the H1's fast reactions.
But it was kind of fun. All that edgy handling, vicious power output and the feeling that at any moment the whole thing was going to let loose in a big way. And it was also a talking point, the kind of outrageous machine that had the young women eager for a trip on the wild side, though their extra mass on the back made the handling even more frightening.
Wobbling, weaving, wallowing, shaking, shuddering, shuffling, juddering, bouncing, buckling...go some way to describe the curious progress of the H1 through corners. Definite no-no's were slamming the throttle shut mid-corner and trying for excessive acceleration out of bends as the front wheel reared skywards. In between these two extremes, there was usually a bit of safe progress if all the machinations were ignored.
It wasn't so much that the frame was crap but that the geometry was all wrong and that the suspension was entirely incapable of controlling things when it went out of line. The upright riding position went no way towards making me feel part of the machine, nor getting any, much needed, weight over the flighty front wheel.
However, the beastly nature of the acceleration and wonderful howl of the three cylinders kept me endlessly amused, turned every ride into a roller-coaster of an adventure. I had many near misses but was never actually thrown off the machine. After three months I'd developed bulging arm muscles and an evil little grin.
On more mundane matters, oil and fuel were atrocious expenses - if you really need to ask then you probably can't afford it! Chains were ruined in mere thousands of miles and the back tyre could be reduced to a molten mess after an hour or so of mad wheel-spinning to impress my mates and neighbours. One old chap came out of his house brandishing a walking stick and tried to clout me over the head with it, but I left the OAP eating gravel. Nothing like improving relations between bikers and the general populace (and this was nothing like...). Spark plugs were also short-lived and very expensive. In short, it was a quick road to ruin.
Now, the motorcycle market being weird and warped meant I was able to off-load the Kawasaki after three months for £1950, inspired in this act of treachery by the way the gearbox had gone all awry, with what sounded like rumbling bearings. Don't know, maybe I was just imagining it, but it didn't really matter as after that time, and 3000 miles, I was becoming somewhat pissed off with the triple; it wholly lacked a gentle, relaxing side.
There are still a lot of Kawasaki triples out there, probably because they aren't used hard by the majority of their owners - they usually end up with a bent frame if they are. There are all kinds of expensive chassis mods touted as solving the handling but I haven't come across one that didn't want to go round corners sideways. Only buy if the myths inspire you!
H.J.W.
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