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Sometimes, things take on a momentum of their own. A mate working in Rome phoned up and demanded I buy him a newish Kawasaki 1100 Zephyr and ride it down to him. It was February at the time and I decided he hadn't a chance in hell of my granting such a request. However, he said he'd let me off a debt I owed him and would locate a nice Ducati vee twin that I could buy to sell at a profit in the UK.
Throw in a distinct lack of DR work in the UK and a strong case of wanderlust (not to mention lust for Italian frails), and it only took me a few minutes to acquiesce, although I demurred just long enough to have free board and as much wine as I could drink thrown in.
The biggest Zephyr hadn't been around long enough to be in great abundance but there were a couple in MCN at what seemed very low prices. The first one I saw, I bought. No point pissing around when a good ‘un falls right into your lap - 7000 miles and less than six months old.
The ride home was such fun that I was tempted to keep it for myself. Great gobs of torque that squirmed the back wheel and pushed the massive beast forward so wildly it left my stomach way behind. A couple of times I screamed with the joy of the acceleration and turned up home with a disgustingly large grin. However, reality closed in when I realised there was no way I could raise the cash.
For a week I hurled the 1100 around the English countryside despite frozen feet and hands, or a groin full of water from the occasional fierce rainstorms. The more I rode the bike the more impressed I became. Despite its huge weight, the relative tautness of its frame and suspension stopped it from indulging in the massive weaves and wobbles so beloved of earlier Kawasaki fours.
Even when one of the old Z1000s have been modified with better shocks, stiffer forks and all the rest of it, I doubt that it would be able to match the combination of stability and comfort with which the big Z is blessed.
Mind you, with its most crazed acceleration and 140mph top speed it's not a bike that I would recommend a 125 graduate leaps on to. Ultimately, there is too much mass for the inexperienced to control when putting down excessive amounts of the power. Even someone used to the older fours could get caught out my the way the back wheel would twitch off line if you were silly with the throttle in the lower gears in tight corners. The 1100 isn't the kind of bike that can be saved with a quick dab down of the boot; more likely to break a leg than stop the machine falling over.
I never actually came off as I was always aware that it wasn't my machine and I doubted if my friend would have appreciated delivery in the form of a crate full of busted parts. With this in mind, I headed for the Continent, both the UK and France awash with enough water to convince me that this lark about global warming was a total myth. Both the Kawa and myself were soaked before we hit the ferry, my wrecked footwear deciding to fall apart just as I was trying to slip the Zephyr into an ever so narrow gap in the ferry hold. Only some prompt action by one of the sailors saved the Kawa taking out a whole line of pristine bikes.
My spare footwear was ideal for the disco but once on the road in France proceeded to soak up masses of water in a record lack of time. I cursed all the way to Paris where I had a free bed for the night, but made the journey in record time, rather surprised at the high speed stability of the 1100 (on Metz's) and my own strength at being able to hold on with more than the ton on the clock for most of the time.
Just as we neared the outskirts of Paris the engine started cutting on to three cylinders intermittently. I needed some fuel, anyway (about 30mpg!), so pulled over and emptied a can of WD40 over the top end, which worked okay. This never recurred, and it should be borne in mind that the rain was so fierce that when I got to Paris my underpants were absolutely sodden with water despite two layers of waterproofs and I had to throw my shoes away! I borrowed some boots off my friend.
Early the next morning the sun was shining brightly, which persuaded me of the rightness of doing the 500 miles to Milan in one shot. About 50 miles into the journey the rain fell again, but I decided no way I was going to back off, keeping the speedo on 110 to 120mph for most of the time.
I shot past one cop car like it was standing still, the huge plume of spray off the back wheel hopefully obscuring my numberplate. Full throttle, down on the tank madness followed, with the speedo hitting a doubtless inaccurate 150mph at one point. The vibes were fierce and I could see damn all in the mirrors. The back end waltzed a little and the bars felt kind of loose in my hands.
I thanked heaven for the powerful discs, hauling ass and getting off the motorway in one hell of a dangerous manoeuvre that had the cagers playing interesting tunes on their horns. Ended up in Macon at a hotel where the proprietor winked when I asked if I could stash the bike round back.
Took another two days of hard riding to get down to Rome. The Zephyr ran tirelessly flat out most of the way, apart from the poor fuel, which worked out at 33mpg, and finishing off the rear Metz, I could find little to complain about. These big fours have come a hell of a long way since the seventies.
I was less than amused to find that the promised vee-twin was a rat 600 Pantah. It felt pathetic after the brutal Kawasaki, but my so-called mate was quick to point out that it only cost a couple of hundred quid and would sell easily in the UK. The ride home is for another, not so happy story.
Dick
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I find it amusing that things should turn full circle, so to speak. The manufacturers would have us believe that the only way to go was watercooling, four or more valves per cylinder, mono-shock and more high tech wizardry than you can shake a stick at.
Yet here we are again, and Kawasaki by no means alone, with a relatively simple across the frame air cooled four with a mere two valves per cylinder, and a pair of twin shocks stuck out back. The little 550 Zephyr at least sports a new frame unlike the 750 which looks like nothing so much as an upgraded Z650. Which hundreds, perhaps thousands, of UMG readers will chorus, is no bad thing.
The Zephyr is in fact based on the Japanese 400 model with which it shares most its chassis. The engine is similar to the well known GPz550, although not so extravagantly tuned for top end power. The GPz in its last years was easily burnt off by any number of hot-shot 600s but was reliable, fast enough to be interesting and surprisingly economical when not pushed to the redline all the time. Unfortunately, the new 550 shares few of these virtues.
It seemed fitting to compare the new 550, which has its roots in the early seventies, with another Kawasaki, the GPZ500 twin, a machine of the late eighties with a thoroughly modern engine and chassis but one paying at least lip service to the concept of economical transport. The GPZ is also based on a Japanese model, the GPZ400S but unlike the 400 Zephyr, it is a machine designed to be practical fun rather than appeal to the nostalgia crowd.
You will probably already have read a lot in the glossies about these new universal Japanese machines bringing back the joys of sensible riding, etc., etc and the manufacturers hoping to pick up lots of buyers who have held on to their older fours. Well, forget all that crap. There is very little in the Zephyr that could be classed as progress. Admittedly, the frame is better than most of the seventies stuff, the swinging arm a robust alloy job with eccentric adjusters will have the aftermarket people swearing their heads off at the lost sales and even the four into one exhaust might have vendors worried until it falls apart from rust.
The suspension is still not very good, worse than that fitted to the GPZ which at least has the good grace to feel taut until 5000 or more miles are on the clock. Don't get me wrong, the Zephyr isn't in Z1 or H1 country, but it's certainly a less stable and less flickable bike than the old GPz550. This has nothing to do with the old fashioned twin shock set-up but is merely down to the usual lack of damping control, even though the remote reservoir shocks look the business.
Similarly the meaty 39mm forks could do with both tauter springs and damping. Strangely, the 37mm units fitted to the GPZ500 feel better, at least until you slam on its single disc......the Zephyr stops as well and as predictably as you could want using its twin front discs. The rear disc also works, after a fashion, but is infinitely inferior to the plain old SLS rear drum on the 500.
The smaller twin is, surprisingly, a tad faster than the four (125mph against 120mph), and also needs less use of revs and gearbox at lower speeds, producing a useful amount of torque below 7000rpm. Only at very low speeds does the Zephyr impress in the smoothness of its transmission, despite the chain primary drive, compared to the graunching noises out of the GPZ box if you try to do 20mph in top gear. Both machines could lose one, or even two, gears out of their six speed boxes with little detriment to performance.
The GPZ500 feels stable and flickable, giving the lie to the idea that all bikes with 16" wheels are twitchy numbers. It does need a pair of Metzeler or Avon tyres after the original Dunlops have done 3000 miles, when they become most dubious.
The Zephyr lacks the same kind of secure feel and needs more effort to flick through bends, it may improve with better tyres, a wide choice available as it runs on a 17" front and 18" rear wheel. True to its heritage, the 550 needs upgraded suspension to remove the twitchiness experienced in bumpy bends. The few owners still running their middleweight fours on the original suspension would be impressed by the 550 and overjoyed by the 500.
Both bikes have well proven engines. The 550 good for around 60,000 miles (in GPz550 tune) before serious work is required. The watercooled twin will at least equal the aircooled four in engine longevity, having the added benefit of constant engine temperature.
Maintenance requirements are minimal for both machines, each able to take neglect just so long as frequent oil changes are done. The watercooling system on the GPz requires hardly any attention so can not really be accused of adding to the complexity.
Interestingly, the smoothness of the twin, with its pistons moving out of phase (thus giving perfect primary balance) and a gear driven counterbalancer taking care of any crankshaft torque reaction, is superior at ton plus speeds to the four which lacks any means of damping out the slightly intrusive secondary vibes at high revs.
The twin is decidedly lumpy at lower revs and occasionally sheds pillion footrests, but has a delightful howl from the exhaust when it's thrashed, unlike the four which is as bland as any other middleweight multi.
Style is a matter of personal taste, but it has to be said that the GPZ's half fairing provides sufficient protection to cruise along at the ton all day long whilst the naked Zephyr with its less than perfect riding position is uncomfortable above 80mph. If your licence is in danger this may be no bad thing. Tall riders will be disconcerted by the high speed wind blast off the GPZ's screen and cramped by the riding position of the Zephyr, although the latter can at least easily alter its handlebar thanks to a tubular rather than cast item.
Long distance cruisers will be disappointed by the quality of the Zephyr's seat padding, anything more than 150 miles is not recommended. The 500's seat is one of more comfortable around. Combine that with better fuel economy and a bigger fuel tank for the watercooled bike to win out as a long distance tourer. It's almost BMW like in its poise!
At first glance the difference between average fuel consumption is not that big. Around 56mpg from the twin, 48mpg from the four. What that hides is the fact that the Zephyr will not respond to slow riding with much better than 50mpg whilst the 500 does as much as 65mpg. Who cares? All those people who have to use their bikes as commuting machines as well as weekend fun mobiles. No-one has bothered to look at the possibilities of tuning the 550 engine for economy. It is less economical than the GPz550, which is obviously a ridiculous state of affairs.
Both machines share the usual silly features - tiny front mudguards, exposed fork seals (all the more galling as the GT550 has gaiters), no full enclosure of the chain, etc., etc. And both machines lack enough power to give real grin inducing, neck snapping acceleration.
The GPZ500 impresses with its riding experience and the Zephyr with its nostalgic style. If the twin had the Zephyr's swinging arm and (decent) twin shocks it would be a complete motorcycle. If the Zephyr had a single carb, the twin's brakes (with a fork brace), upgraded suspension and a better seat, it would be a very useful multi. Out of the showroom, the twin wins - but then I'm biased as I used to own one!
Dick Lewis
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for Kawa fours
When you've thrashed a Z650 to death (it died at 132,176 miles when everything but everything was well worn out) you learn to respect a manufacturer, like Kawasaki, who can build such tough motors. As soon as I saw the new 750 Zephyr I knew it was time to buy a motorcycle again, even if the price was in thousands (four for a new 'un to be precise) rather than hundreds.
The Zephyr looked like nothing more than a sensibly modified Z650, so it came as a pleasant surprise to find, within miles, that it rode and handled better even than my own much improved 650. Better suspension, wider tyres, a stiffer frame and a very hefty alloy swinging arm with flash eccentric chain adjusters go some way to explain its enhanced stability and chuckability.
With its relatively high bars and naked look, it has to be said that it's not much cop above 90mph, the wind blast tried to tear you off the seat whilst arm and neck muscles start to ache after ten minutes at a 100mph. Having managed to pick up a bike with 5000 miles on the clock for £3250, it was nicely run in and there was no hesitation on my part to whack open the throttle on the first bit of straight.
It brought back pleasant memories, wrapping myself around the tank and getting down to it, and took only a few moments to get the speedo up to the 125mph level. Power becomes more exciting once past 7000 revs but there is little need to wring the balls off the beast in town. 115mph comes up very quickly, the last 10mph needing a bit of a long straight to achieve. Given its larger capacity than the 650, I was pleasantly surprised to find the motor remarkably smooth. Only at the redline did noticeable vibration intrude, but as there was no need to redline the engine in every gear this is not a real problem.
Where the Z650 had been quite heavy to haul around town, the Z750 could be flicked through the traffic with the ease of a bike half its capacity. It was so easy to ride that at times I forgot it weighs 450lbs and my over-confidence led me to lean it over too quickly - the result, the bike was only saved from tarmac ruin by a quick dab with my foot on the ground. At the other end of the scale, in the company of some headcases on CBR600s, I was actually able to stay ahead of them in the corners and by the simple expedient of sticking the Kawasaki in the middle of the road with over a ton on the clock stop them overtaking. They wouldn't dare go past because much above the ton the Kawasaki wallows and weaves like a good seventies baby. It never threatened to turn nasty like a Z1, and apparently looked more threatening than it felt.
In the middle ground, fast A and B roads, up to 80mph curves, I could find little to complain of and much to praise. The rutted condition of local roads did little to ruin the Z750's poise. When hitting a pot-hole whilst under acceleration, the bars would waggle for a moment but settled down so quickly that I did not have time to worry about it. Riding over a brick some idiot had left in the road at 75mph, convinced me that the bike's stability under abuse was basically sound, although the sudden intrusion of lurching forks into my quiet calm and contentment nearly made me brown my trousers.
Typical of fours, engine braking was not present and the exhaust noise, even on the overrun, was never going to send shivers down your back. The exhaust never has the edge or howl of some highly tuned across the frame fours and I can barely wait for the aftermarket chaps to start selling a more rorty 4-1. Save some mass at the same time, as well.
The rear shocks were good for the first 12000 miles on the clock, then the damping went away and there was a distinct pogo effect over bumpy going. The front forks were still okay up to the 14500 miles that I managed before writing this, although they would flutter a bit over heavy bumps on 80mph plus roads. That the handling was still basically sound goes to show that hidden within the old fashioned tubular trellis must be some very sound engineering. It makes you think, if Kawasaki can put together such a good package from such old fashioned components, who really needs quick wear mono-shock linkages?
The front Bridgestone tyre went for 9000 miles, the rear 7000 miles. I was so impressed with them that I fitted another set as I was able to buy them at a big discount - some people still insist in fitting European tyres from new, so there are some good deals on the replaced Bridgestones. Certainly, the Japanese have advanced rapidly in this area. Again, the sure sign of a good chassis, degeneration of handling with the tyres down to 1mm was minimal. Just an increased susceptibility to white lines spoilt the picture.
I did find that wet weather riding was spoilt by a tendency of the engine to cut out in fierce downpours. This was not to turn into a serious problem as squirting WD40 on to the sparks plug caps solved it, but I was always suspicious that I might have an engine running on three or even two cylinders when I was in desperate need of full power. Feedback from the road in the wet could've been better, but riding in the sub 7000rpm section ensured that the power delivery to the rear tyre was sufficiently moderate to avoid rear wheel slip.
The brakes were certainly not affected by the wet. Twin discs out front and a single rear with state of the art twin piston calipers are fierce in the extreme. Very much a nineties design, they are not really endowed with much by way of feedback for gentle wet weather retardation, but in the dry you can shoot up to sharp corners and leave your braking to the last possible moment. On a couple of occasions when the usual plonkers pulled out in the way they saved my bacon.
Pad wear was prodigious - 6000 and 8000 miles front and rear respectively. By the time you've handed over a large pile of notes to your local Kawasaki dealer it's put you in such a bad mood that old grannies and roaming dogs are at peril for the next few days.
Another expense was fuel economy. This was the only area in which the seventies design was showing its age. Air cooled with two valves per cylinder it just can't cope with modern emission regulations......absolute power was down on the GPz750, let alone the Z1, yet the bike's economy could not approach these older, heavier and faster machines. My average worked out at 41mpg. Not once did it better 45mpg and really unrestrained riding with the speedo past the ton for as long as possible meant that 30mpg was the order of the day. You could do about 100 miles before looking for a gas station.
Under such thrashing the bike also drank oil in an irresponsible manner. Two hundred miles of sublime abuse would need a pint of oil added to the sump. As an old seventies hand I ignored the handbook's suggested oil change intervals and religiously replenished the oil every 1000 miles. Other servicing was minimal with an auto tensioner and electronic ignition. The carbs stayed in balance and the valves within limits over the 9000 miles I did on the bike. Reliability has been absolute.
Unfortunately, the finish on the bike wasn't the best I've come across. The back of the tank, where it met the seat, the exhaust down pipes and some of the brackets had all started to rust. A bit of elbow grease and Solvol was sufficient to keep it at bay but I felt at such a low mileage it should not have been necessary.
The bike is used for everything - daily commuting, fast weekend fun and continental touring - and copes remarkably well straight out of the crate. I would not spoil its looks by adding a fairing, although for high speed work it really needs one. It upsets the plastic speedsters because it always draws a crowd when parked amid them. I don't know if the new engine will go around the clock but intend to have a jolly good go at finding out!
A.R.H
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It was early 1992 when I had the chance of buying a 1500 mile 750 Zephyr. I had been hanging out in the dealers every Saturday looking for something suitable. This one was a repossession, had just been serviced and glowed nicely in the showroom with a £3600 price tag. The dealer offered an extravagant amount for my RG125, which was on its last legs having been thrashed by several brain dead juveniles.
The Zephyr looked neat in its retro way but was heavier than it appeared and quite a change after the featherweight Suzuki. I had to admit that it was very comfortable for throwing around town but found the gearbox a bit crunchy after the slick box on the RG. The throttle response seemed slow with 70 horses on hand but I put that down to more than 450lbs worth of metal.
Within thirty minutes of taking possession of the Zephyr I almost wrote it off. Wasn't my fault, honest! What happened was that some plonker decided to do a U-turn just as I was shooting down between a queue of cars at 50mph. Instinctively I hit the brakes without thinking about it. The front wheel burnt off a layer of rubber as it locked up with a terrible squeal. The double discs put the forks down on their stops but the Kawasaki pulled up in an incredibly short distance, dead straight. About two inches from the cager who looked at me as if I'd just crawled from under a rock. We played on our horns, the puny item on the Z losing out.
The next day the skies were gloomy and it was cold enough to turn oil solid but it didn't stop me going for a long blast. I was interested to see what the motor would do and how it would handle at speed. I'd heard tales of fear and loathing on big fours of the past, wanted to see how the 750 matched up. I needn't have worried, after the twitchiness of the little RG the Zephyr was wonderfully composed and once I'd got over my fear of the weight it could even be flung through corners fast enough to scare the shit out of my GPX750 mounted mate.
What annoyed me, though, was the riding position. As comfortable as an armchair up to 85mph, thereafter it was massive arm, neck and shoulder ache all the way to the casualty ward......I resisted the urge to scream my head off, got my head down on the handlebar clamps and saw 130mph on the clock before the pain and a slight wallow suggested that it was quite fast enough for me.
After a 250 mile run around the countryside I was frozen solid. It says a lot for the friendliness and ease of use that I was able to ride home with a brain numbed head; just dumping the engine in fifth and using the throttle. My mate was laughing his head off at my deep frozen body, his fairing having provided a degree of protection. The last five miles were through ice cold needles of rain but I was too drained to take much notice. Thawing out was even more painful as circulation slowly came back to my extremities.
The next day I went out to the street to find that someone had placed an old wreck where my pristine bike had been parked. It was only after checking the numberplate with the logbook that I was willing to believe that it was my machine. A terrible wave of corrosion had attacked the whole bike with alloy turned white and rust attacking most of the nuts and bolts. When I rode into work on the bike no-one would believe how new it was and how much it cost.
That night I attacked the machine with Solvol, old toothbrush and some rags. After a whole evening's effort it was restored to its former glory. In the winter and spring months I had to clean the bike every 3 or 4 days to stop it going off. They cost over four grand new, so how they can get away with such a shoddy finish I don't know.
Every weekend I went on a run of some sort with my mates. Together with 200 miles a week of commuting I was doing nearly 2000 miles a month. The only hassle was persuading my mates to keep the speed down to a sane level. 80 to 90mph cruising was reached as a compromise - I could just about hold on; their racing riding positions made some kind of sense. On anything other than motorways I got the better deal as far as comfort goes.
After about 7000 miles of abuse the engine started to go off tune - all I'd done was change the oil and filter once. They're supposed to be serviced every 3000 miles but they seem to run for twice that without any problems. I let the dealer do carbs, valves and new spark plugs for about 70 notes.
The engine ran beautifully but was a bit more finicky on the choke during starting. It would either rev to dizzy heights or stall dead. Juggling the choke lever frantically helped. Took five to ten minutes to warm up until it ran cleanly below 3500 revs.
I continued to be amazed at the way it could run tirelessly along, either burbling away at 40mph or straining my wrists at 90mph, which equated to 7000rpm. There was still plenty of pulling power in hand but fuel would go down the drain at a ferocious rate if it was really thrashed. Normally, I could look forward to about 50mpg, which I thought good compared to the 45mpg I used to get from my wailing RG. But put the speedo above 90mph for any length of time and it'll come crashing down to 35mpg!
A whole group of us take three or four weeks off each summer to go camping with the bikes and birds. Some bright spark decided Italy was an ideal destination. We split into two groups, there was no way I, or some guys on old Honda fours or GS850, could hope to keep up with the nutters on CBR's and FZR's. We took to minor French and Italian back roads like ducks to water. Great weather, scenery and roads. The Zephyr killed the old multi's dead in handling and performance. Despite spending hours in the seat every day I could perch my butt on the local cafe seats without any painful reminders.
The race replica crowd had been pulled over en masse by a pack of French porkers on the auto-route. They'd been cruising at about 125mph and had to pay hundreds each in fines. The pigs threatened to put them in jail unless they came up with the dosh. The hours they wasted sorting out the mess and their fear of speeding meant we turned up at the first campsite before them. They were all in agony from their riding positions, thanks to enforced low speeds.
The Kawasaki kept stealing the thunder from the other bikes in its typically understated way. Half clad Italian and French girls were quite willing to leap on the back for a quick blast along the Italian Riviera. The relative comfort of its pillion perch soon converted any doubters. The poor old race replica crowd could only show off by mono-wheel antics and occasional excursions on to the beach with the porkers in pursuit.
The night before the return I reckoned, somewhat drunk, that the relative comfort of the Zephyr would allow me to arrive in Blighty before the replica crowd if the journey was done in one blast. Reminded of this in the early morning heat haze, I cursed myself but decided to give it a go.
No-one seemed willing to do much more than 90mph after the previous fines. 12 hours in the saddle, much of it at more than 80mph, left me as stiff as a brick, bleary eyed but still functioning well enough to ride the bike on to the ferry. The FZR rider turned up half an hour later, promptly falling over sideways whilst still perched on the bike. Took him the whole ferry journey before he could flex his muscles again.
Apart from the oil changes and another two dealer services, two sets of tyres and one chain, the Zephyr has cost only fuel over 19500 miles of mindless abuse. It runs as well as ever but cosmetics are very poor. It's fast enough to ruin your licence, comfortable enough to commute or cruise at up to 85mph and takes everything I've thrown at it.
Danny Irwing
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I got the 1992 Kawasaki 550 Zephyr dead cheap because it was in such poor cosmetic shape. The engine ran okay but the bike was blitzed by corrosion and rust. It'd been left in the street for six months, over winter, whilst the DR owner recovered from a broken leg. He was the most foul mouthed chap I've ever come across. He was out of the DR game for good and wanted enough cash to get out of the country. His accident had involved several vehicles and innocent peds, his lack of insurance meant he was in deep shit.
As the bike had two flat tyres a friend with a van was summoned and I didn't actually ride the ZR for about a month. It took that long to sort out the chassis. The clock read only 9000 miles and the engine sounded beautiful, enough encouragement to keep me going through the dreary nights of work. Once rust gets a hold on the chassis it runs very deep. Basically, I had to strip the frame right down and get it shot-blasted. Some used chassis parts were also needed.
In the end, I wheeled the rebuilt machine out into the harsh light of day. It looked better than new! The Zephyr's a compact machine with a reasonable riding position. The power flows in easily, as it should as the engine peaks out at only 50 horses. In many ways it's more exciting to look at the Kawasaki than to ride it; but it's a competent machine, well bred and at home in most conditions.
The first time I tested the bike it was almost a disaster. It went like this. Long bit of straight on an A-road, 90mph on the clock, about to zap a cage that was in the way. Out on to the other side of the road, down a gear and nail the throttle to the stop. There was just a deep nothingness from the silencer. The Zephyr had run out of power. The cager decided to match my own speed and an oncoming car appeared in the distance.
I glanced over to see this bald, podgy guy with a benign smile, as if trying to kill me was a jolly jape. By then I'd found fourth gear and was flat out, making a hell of a racket. The car coming towards me appeared to speed up. I whacked up to fifth, this time finding the power, then 100mph on the clock. I finally pulled ahead, shot into a gap of about two yards, with seconds to spare. The two cars saluted themselves on their horns.
This lack of power at the top of the rev range was transitory, as far as I can gather unique to my machine. It was either a blockage in the carbs or the ignition breaking down. It happened about once a month, far too infrequent for any mechanic to trace.
I suspected the ignition because I had some problems in the wet with one or more cylinders cutting out. This wasn't the do or die failure of earlier models, just a momentary loss of clear running, not having much effect on the back wheel. There was enough forward motion to keep us going. One dark, dank night when the rain fell heavily I glanced down to see a fireworks display, sparks leaping from the plug caps to the cylinder - it was like something was on fire under the petrol tank!
Looking at another Zephyr I noticed that the caps and HT leads were different. I went along to the friendly local breaker who had a set of coils and HT leads out of 300 mile ZR550 that had been mashed almost beyond recognition. The coils weren't the same as the ones in my bike, the new stuff clearing up the sparking. However, the strange loss of power was still there so maybe it was, after all, the carbs.
90mph cruising was a bit of hard work. I suffered wrist ache and a numb bum after about a hundred miles. Vibration was low to the point of non-existence and the pegs were placed so that they didn't cramp my legs. Holding the ton for any length of time was close to impossible, a combination of neck pain and a lack of power. Laying down on the petrol tank was no fun at all, the pains in my back were like red hot needles. Posing in town was as easy as lounging in the armchair in front of the TV and much more fun (who was it who said it was better to catch VD than watch TV?).
On coming back to the bike one night, some young girl came rushing up to me just as I was putting my lid on. She demanded a lift, saying some louts were after her. I think it was just the slinky style that pulled her, although this was the one and only time it happened. Anyway, after a ten minute hell-raiser ride through North London, she looked a bit weak in the legs and didn't object to a night of sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll. She was a bit young and scraggly for my tastes so I wasn't too upset when she disappeared.
Two up riding on the Zephyr was a bit of a pain. A large friend had me sitting on the tank, the shocks down on their stops and the tallest two gears a waste of time unless you wanted to do an ad for Slumberland. The back end weaved about a bit, the twin shocks looking more trick than they were efficient. The bike really strained up steep hills, gasped in relief as we crested the top and fair flew down the other side. If you do a lot of two-up riding, especially if the pillion's heavy, go for the 750 version.
An illustration of how pushed the bike was with a pillion was that fuel dived down to 35mpg under hard use. Normally, I could expect between 40 and 60mpg, the latter only achieved by keeping revs below 5000 where there was useful enough grunt for quite respectable rates of acceleration. Overall, I was getting 50 to 55mpg. Oil consumption was negligible between changes.
The rest of the costs were quite good. O-ring chains lasted about 17000 miles and Metz tyres went for 12000 miles rear and 15000 miles front. With 33000 miles on the clock the brake pads have yet to wear out, a reflection on my relatively mature riding style and their power, just a gentle squeeze of the lever gave tremendous braking.
The most traumatic time I had with the braking was when an artic bellowed across a junction, convincing me it'd broken through the time-continuum - literally coming from nowhere. I was doing 40mph, had to hit the brakes in total desperation. The tyres screamed and the whole chassis shook in fury but we came to an halt...with an inch to clear. The rush of air from the artic almost knocked me off.
These lorries had a strong dislike for the Zephyr, coming on strong every time they saw us, especially on the open road. The four cylinder engine had to work really hard to see them off and I often wished for the excessive torque of some 1200cc multi...then I thought about the cost of running one and the horrendous insurance.
I fell off twice but didn't claim on the insurance. Both times it was due to the back wheel letting loose on greasy city roads when the tread was down to about 1mm (I always run my tyres down to the carcass, the only way to get decent wear out of 'em). The engine bars and indicators took most of the damage; only my pride was dented as I wear leathers and body army.
The best thing about the Zephyr's that the cosmetics can often go off quickly. This is just superficial, but the surface appearance of the bike's its greatest asset - hence a perfectly good motorcycle (under the rust) can be bought at a bargain price. That you might have to take the bike right down to the frame to clean it up is just one of those little trials that makes life so interesting. The Zephyr doesn't get deep into your soul and I feel it's about time to move on to something with a touch more charisma,
Henry Slater
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Two years ago I became the proud owner of a Zephyr 550. This modern interpretation of the retro looked the business and the 420lbs of shining metal was a snap to ride. The 50hp DOHC four cylinder engine is shared with the GT550, its mild nature immediately apparent. The old GPz550 used to be a much harder, higher revving device but I didn't mind, I didn't want a fire breathing sportster.
My timing was perfect. No sooner had I bought the bike than the summer weather broke out after an indifferent spring. All the joys of motorcycling were immediately apparent. Even the most fervent cager was eyeing my dash through the traffic jams with envy. A few times it was too much for them, they tried to knock me off!
In such circumstances I had the choice of swerving around the obstacle or grabbing the really excellent twin discs. A wild grip on the brake lever howled the tyre and pulled the bike up in incredibly short distances. On the other hand, a gentle stroke of the lever produced mild braking that made for safe retardation in the wet. The rear disc seemed a bit out of place on this type of machine and a bit too fierce for my taste.
The front forks, under heavy braking, are on the soft side but it was never so bad as to upset the handling. A tough tubular frame and a mere 115mph top speed ensured that things never became desperate. Coming out of fast sweepers under power brought in a little bit of wallowing, but it never came close to being dangerous.
Choice of tyres made a significant difference to the feel of the bike. The Japlops it came with were down to about 3mm in tread depth and squirmed about over white-lines and cats-eyes. By the time they were down to 2mm wet weather riding had become rather like walking on ice in old bedroom slippers. Asking around the local bike gang, where there were a couple of Zephyr owners, Metzelers emerged as the best choice.
The 550 doesn't have a centrestand, which made removal of the wheels a real pain in the arse. The tyre dealer proceeded to brutally attack the cast alloy wheels, leaving large dents and ruining the finish in several places. The tyres needed about 250 miles of scrubbing in before they settled down. The wallowing had been all but eradicated, so all the effort was worthwhile. The rear tyre lasted for just over 5000 miles, the front for 11000 miles.
It was just as well that I did the tyre swap, the following month I was part of a pack of young motorcycle hoodlums in search of good times. Cruising speed up to Scotland was around the ton, which the 550 could take but my neck was stressed by the wind blast. The riding position was fine up to 80mph and as much as 500 miles in a day was possible without ending up crippled. I woke up the next day with a stiff neck that held my head at a strange angle to my shoulders. My so-called friends found my appearance hilarious but I soon recovered.
Fuel on that thrash was a pathetic 40mpg, which gave a range of only 120 miles. Milder riding gave as much as 60mpg, 55mpg being relatively easy to achieve. Oil changes were done every 3000 miles, no topping up needed between services. Strangely, the motor has an oil cooler, which in its low state of tune hardly seems necessary.
A service is needed every 3000 miles according to Kawasaki but I've left it to 5000 miles without any traumas. The local dealer charges £75 for a valve and carb job, which given the hassle of shimming the valves was quite reasonable. I left the spark plugs and oil filter for 10,000 miles.
The only engine problem occurred during the freezing winter when the motor would stop dead for no apparent reason. It was the dreaded carb icing. This was a '91 model which didn't have the extra plumbing around the carbs of newer bikes. Changing to four star fuel rather than unleaded stopped most of the stalling and even gave a marginal improvement in economy. Why an aircooled model should suffer from carb icing is beyond me.
Rather neater was the beefy alloy swinging arm with eccentric chain adjusters. After I bought a paddock stand chain tensioning almost became a pleasure, although ultimately it would've been tricker to have incorporated the GT550's shaft drive. Despite being an O-ring type there was still a lot of oil thrown off the chain, pillions often having their footwear ruined. The chain only lasted for 10,000 miles, which made me think that full enclosure was called for.
Along with the minimal chainguard there was a disturbing lack of mudguarding. The front guard was particularly nasty, just riding on a damp road sufficient to coat the front of the engine in a thick layer of grime. Once the summer was over, daily cleaning sessions were required to keep the Zephyr in good shape.
The paint, alloy and chrome, under the winter onslaught, didn't give the impression of being of high quality. For a three year old machine the quantity of paint that fell off the frame was unacceptable. The only thing I found that was completely impossible to keep shiny was the chrome four into one exhaust. By the time the spring arrived it was a complete rust bucket.
Having paid £2500 for the Kawasaki I had no cash left to buy some small commuter for the winter chores and no intention of using public transport. On Metz tyres the Kawasaki was generally assured on damp or icy roads. The only traumatic moments came from the front discs - the pads were wearing down to the metal (about 7500 miles life) and the calipers were starting to seize up. Before I'd put in new pads and rebuilt the calipers, I ended up with an on-off switch for a front brake! I was thankful for the relatively low mass when I had to put a foot down to save myself from the slides.
After the winter my overall impression was that the Zephyr's designers didn't expect the bike to be ridden in bad English weather - to be fair, the GT550 was their answer to people who insisted on practical wheels.
The spring of '94 didn't turn out to be very nice with regards to weather. I was tempted to ruin the looks of the Zephyr by fitting a full fairing but bought some new waterproofs instead. Appearance continued to degenerate as I gradually began to lose interest in spending every evening polishing and touching up the bike! It's dead easy to tell the owners who just ride in the summer by the appearance of their machines. I decided mine had to go while there was still something left to sell! It sold very quickly for £2200, so depreciation was minimal.
The engine was neat, the frame strong, the handling more than adequate and the overall shape beautiful. I didn't mind the lack of outright performance as it was a very relaxed ride that could have got away with four rather than the six gears Kawasaki deemed necessary.
The concept, then, is good but Kawasaki seems to have done the bare minimum to the engine to make it fit for the purpose and refused to pay attention to lots of minor details that matter if you want to ride all year around in the UK - finish, mudguards, final drive, fuel consumption and maintenance intervals.
They cost over four grand new and £1500 for a really rough '91 model, although as little as two thousand notes can pick up something quite reasonable. But for that kind of money it's possible to buy a really nice NTV600. I did and I'm a lot happier.
Donald Lee
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The feeling of freedom when I arrived in France for the first time nearly blew my mind away. The 750 Zephyr gleamed in the July sunshine and whirred away like it was brand new rather than 14000 miles, and two owners, old. It looked so neat, so complete - okay the seat's tail was a bit out of place and the oil cooler was a gross affectation on a 68hp, air-cooled DOHC four, but the rest of it was so right!
At that point in the story I'd owned the Kawasaki for a mere week and was still revelling in the power and fine handling. What? My previous bike was a GS450E with 50,000 miles on the clock, which perhaps explains my infatuation. I'd traded in the GS after a mechanic friend told me that the plain main bearings of the Suzuki had started to knock!
This was my first time abroad, so wobbling out of Calais on the wrong side of the road had all my attention. The port seemed well run down without any of the aura of romance I'd expected but that didn't diminish the thrill of being on foreign soil for the first time. That day I rode hard, until I crossed into Germany for an hour's speed testing on the autobahn.
130mph on the clock. Wow! Bit of a struggle with the riding position, but I found my legs well braced against the footpegs and I could sort of crouch down against the invigorating rush of wind. I was king of the fast lane until some jerk in a Merc beeped me to get out of his way. He must've been doing 150mph.
A whole day in the saddle had left me wobbling like I had a dose of piles and my old back was in agony for a good half an hour. This was surprising as I'd done three hours on British motorways at a steady 90mph without experiencing any profound pains and I'd expected more of the same. After about two weeks of mad riding, huge distances every day, I did find my body toughening up. I can now do 500 miles in a day without any pains, but twice that, at high speeds, leaves me yearning for a BMW or even a cage!
Another savage aspect of really high speed running was that fuel dropped from 50mpg to 30mpg. With less than four gallons capacity that gave a pathetic range of only 100 miles before I had to look for the services. The combination of neutered engine design (from the emission, noise reg's), lack of fairing and 120mph speed added up to stroker-like economy. For some reason the Avon tyres lasted very well, over 10,000 miles and the O-ring chain shrugged off my speeding antics. Not a total disaster, then.
One near disaster occurred when the front guard fell off at 90mph. Somehow it got mangled by the wheel. One hell of a lurch, like the wheel was breaking up, before bits of plastic were spat off with a deadly momentum. The steering quickly settled down to its usual neutral feel. The guard was typically modern, skimpy enough to let huge plumes of water attack the machine in the wet. I took the opportunity to replace it with a much more substantial item, which, I'm sure, has allowed the machine to keep up the excellence of its finish. There are lots of stories of Zephyrs turning crap during a British winter, but I think most of this is down to the lack of a decent front guard.
In about 6000 miles of Continental trawling the only nasty that turned up was a copious oil leak at the head gasket. The rider's well insulated from the secondary vibes, but judging by the looseness of the head bolts the engine's buzzed when the revs are employed in anger. There ain't much point going above 9500 revs; power peaks there and the maximum torque's developed at a mere 7500rpm. The engine felt best at 7000 to 8000 revs.
After the old hacks I'd owned previously I couldn't find much wrong with the handling or stability. There was a bit of weaving above the ton and the odd shuffling around at the back end, but it was all so mild, and the 450lb machine so easy to use, that there was really no need to complain. Even on bald tyres all I had to watch was slides in the wet, when the composure did a runner as the bike did a massive twitch.
I suppose that the race replica crowd would find lots to complain about but I never tried to ride on the edge of the tyres, nor get my knees down, as I felt these merely a prelude to falling off. That's what comes of learning on cheap and nasty hacks, though I'm not knocking them as at least you can fall off without denting the balance of payments and you find out a hell of a lot about motorcycles in the process.
Back in the UK, the 750 had to run the full gamut of commuting chores. This involved hurtling down to London (from Stanmore) every day, weekends in Dulwich and odd night ride back and forth to Bristol. Of course, after the German experience I treated motorway speed limits with the disdain they deserved. No, officer, that certainly wasn't me doing 125mph on the M4. A half-size, mud encrusted numberplate kept my licence intact! The only thing that slowed me down was my girlfriend having a fit every time I went over 90mph. She went really wild with the fear of it all. Women!
One winter morning, with 32000 miles under its wheel, the starter just clicked rather than turning over the engine. The battery only had enough power to illuminate the idiot lights. Shit. The reason for this was half the acid had disappeared. My fault, I guess, for never checking it. I added some tap water and jump-leaded her from my dad's cage. The engine roared away but died as soon as the lifeline was disconnected. Needed a new battery, which blew most of the morning. My arriving late without phoning in gave the boss an excuse to sack me on the spot He'd been pissed ever since he found me with a hand up his daughter's skirt.
Being clever, I ended up with a job in Reading and no inclination to hand over crazy dosh for a nasty bedsit. That meant the ZR had to commute long distance through winter. Riding the bike on ice and snow had me pissing myself, as she skated all over the shop. A gentle hand on the throttle and bars was needed, I was really thankful for the mildness of the mill below 6000 revs. A few times I had to put my boot down, wrenching my leg in the process. No fun but a necessary evil.
I lasted in the job for two months, again pissing off the boss by telling him he was an idiot when he reckoned all blacks should be deported. Where do these idiots come from? The next job was in Wembley. Near enough to walk but I liked the Zephyr too much to suffer that indignity. The poor old engine hardly warmed up and I had to change the oil every 800 miles (instead of 3000) because it kept emulsifying.
Then the boss sent me out on the road in a company cage, selling shop-fronts! It used to drive me crazy sitting in traffic jams for ages but there was no way I could carry the samples on the bike, nor turn up in scruffy biking gear. I stuck that for two months when I grabbed the commission and resigned (made a change from getting the sack).
This time I was all set for a real bit of travel, a couple of months riding around Spain. The Zephyr had 44000 miles on the clock but still gleamed (I polished it every week and kept it in the house overnight). The engine was a bit rattly so I had a new camchain and tensioner fitted - the compression was good and she burnt no oil. The engine purred like new but the mechanic pointed out that the exhaust was about to drop off. Some of the metal was wafer thin, had rotted from the inside.
I knew by its loudness that some of the baffles had gone, which had affected the midrange with a stutter. The mechanic just happened to have a used but perfect Motad for a Z750 that he managed to fit without damaging anything. A new chain and sprocket kit (its second) plus tyres further depleted the bank account but I reckoned it was going to be cheaper to sort everything in the UK.
I'm all ready to go, now! The Zephyr ain't the fastest big four in the world but it suits me, has been reliable and cheap to run (except for fuel at high speed). Some of them have poor cosmetics and can be bought at bargain prices. A good deal!
G.K.
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Wading my way through MCN I saw an advert for grey imports which stated delivered for free. As I lived in West Wales and the dealer was on the other side of England it sounded promising. I phoned up, was given the usual eulogy. Three years old, 7000 miles done, absolutely immaculate. A snip at £2250. It would take a couple of weeks to sort the paperwork out, did I want to send a cheque off? In a rare moment of optimism I concurred.
The 400 Zephyr turned up on a sunny Tuesday morning. A momentary panic when I read the clock - 11,500! Then I realised it was in kilometres. It wasn't immaculate, looked like it had done 30,000 miles. However, this was just some tarnishing from being stored and transported. It cleaned up quite nicely.
The 400 Zephyr is similar to the 550, save that it's only 399cc and does 46 horses at 11000 revs. Starting was reluctant, needing much choke juggling as if suffering from fuel starvation. It was immediately obvious that it was a bit of a revver. The tacho needle flicking around to twelve grand with just a touch of the throttle.
It's a compact machine, befitting its capacity and 390lbs of mass. Engine smoothness was impressive but it didn't really want to shift below 8000 revs. For sure, it would turn over cleanly enough but it was more like some mediocre 250 twin than a hot 400 four.
Once into its power it felt pretty good but didn't exactly rip my arms off. The sweet spot was between 10,000 and 11,000 revs but it went a bit flat after 13000rpm. Top speed worked out at around 120mph and 100mph cruising was just about possible as the riding position was totally sensible, the perfect compromise between town and open road riding.
Though the engine always needed work on the throttle and gearbox (the latter better than most Kawasaki efforts I've experienced) it was never a hard bike to ride whatever the circumstances. It always felt safe, with no underlying violence ready to bite back. Both well developed and nicely put together. Much of this togetherness probably comes from the fact that much of the bike has to do duty in the 550 and to a large extent is over-built.
So my initial impressions, those all important first few weeks and hundreds of miles, were very favourable. Alas, they didn't last very long. Things began to go wrong when someone tried to nick the bike. The old screwdriver in the ignition trick. He ran off when I came out of the house and started cursing. The ignition was buggered. When I'd finally managed to pull the module out, a great clump of wiring came adrift with it. There was obvious evidence that it had been bodged in the great swathes of black insulation tape.
The more I looked into the electrics the worse the situation became. The rectifier and regulator were some Lucas junk meant to be fitted into the end of a car alternator. Even the ignition pack didn't look right, as it was held in position by cut down bungee cords. When I secured a used 550 Zephyr ignition lock it was totally different to the one on my machine. I didn't have a clue how to connect everything up.
That was how I ended up at a local dealer. He didn't have a clue either but offered me 500 notes for the machine. When this was declined he let his tame mechanic loose with a multimeter. I didn't have much faith in the youth but, lo and behold, he managed to get the ignition working. When I gently suggested that it might, you know, be nice to have working lights and horn, he gave me an incredulous look. An hour later he beamed like an imbecile, suggested that all was well...
It took about half a mile for me to smell the fire. Coming from the front headlamp shell. By the time I'd pulled off the road the engine was stone dead. All that was left of the wiring in the headlamp was a blackened blob of wire and insulation. I pushed the bike to the nearest phone box but the dealer didn't want to know. I pushed the Kawa the three miles home.
I phoned the grey importer about a wiring loom. He didn't want to know either but reckoned a used 550 Zephyr one would do the business. A telephone trip around various breakers revealed prices ranging from £20 to £90! I chose the cheapest, which came two days later, COD.
Nothing matched up but a bit of guesswork and prayer finally had everything working. I was mightily relieved. But only for 700 miles until the top end started to rattle. Camchain, thought I. I tried tweaking the adjuster but it didn't make any difference. Valve clearances? No idea what they should be. Phoned the grey importer, the nearest official Kawasaki dealer and a mechanic. Only the latter was willing to offer any help. £50 later the rattle was still there in all its intrusive glory.
I ignored it for the next 1700 miles. Then the camchain broke with an alarming explosion. The engine locked up solidly until I grabbed for the clutch. The only good thing was that I could see my house in the distance and I'd only been doing 25mph.
I'm not a brilliant mechanic but figured that I could tear it apart myself, suss the problem and hand it over to an expert. Unfortunately, the broken camchain had allowed the valves to hammer into the pistons, with various bits of engine flying all over the shop. There didn't appear any component within the still immaculate cases that had escaped damage.
After crying myself to sleep after getting drunk out of my head I bought MCN and had a look at the breakers' adverts. For £750 I bought a nearly new ZR400 mill, which went in without too many traumas.
The motor had a little more top end power but the same vacuum at lower revs. I'm not sure if the high revving nature of the motor had led to an early demise (combined with my ignoring the rattle) or if the machine was a clocker or some refugee from an accident which had been extensively bodged. I kept it for a couple of months and then traded in for a CBR400.
The Zephyr was okay on fuel, at 55 to 60mpg, didn't do much damage to its consumables and generally ran around at a rapid pace. It obviously pays to check them out thoroughly and not just rely on a conversation with a dealer! Find a genuine low miler, have a test ride and buy it if the price is right - £2000 to £3000. Above that there are much better buys.
Dan Michaels