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The GS750 had been flung down the road by a would-be drag racer. The owner had ended up in hospital with a broken leg. The bike was deeply scarred and dented but was still straight. The rear shocks were replaced by a pair of steel bars. The swinging arm was a foot longer than standard. The exhaust was a four into one without a silencer. Various essential bits like clocks and lights were missing. The engine still ran and sounded good. The wife of the owner wanted shot of the 'killer machine' before he came out of hospital. What would I give her? £250! We put the bike into the van before she'd realised what she'd done.
I like GS750s. Have owned a couple in the past. Had, in fact, one in the garage. It'd had done 110,000 miles before the crankshaft had finally dumped its ball bearings throughout the engine. It happened at 50mph. The seized engine locked up the rear wheel. I sorted of stepped off as the bike headed for a stone wall. The frame and forks went west. I'd kept what was left for sentimental reasons. Luckily, what was still useable would fit straight on the drag racer. I'd have a street legal bike for next to nothing. So it was!
I hadn't stripped the engine down or anything. It ran and that was good enough for me. Ran was a bit of an understatement. It roared, spat and growled out the power in a much more spirited manner than the older GS750. It was partly the gearing, which was set up for acceleration rather than top speed; partly the noisy induction and exhaust systems, but it felt like there were some hot-rod parts inside the mill.
It was often reluctant to start, spitting back through the carbs and churning over on the electric boot until it fired. Fitting the choke back on helped. The engine also didn't like to run below 3000rpm. Suggested to me that there were high-lift cams and high compression pistons inside. The power really took off at 7000 revs, hit a peak at 10,000 and died a death at 11000rpm. Dangerously high revs for a GS750. I just hoped the crankshaft had been welded up.
Signs of stress were evident in the clutch. Rattle, chatter, rattle. Very temperamental. Sometimes as smooth as silk. Other times it'd fling the bike forwards and upwards in a thoroughly violent manner. The GS would wheelie in a way that belied its rather staid appearance.
This street sleeper characteristic was good fun in town. Some dork on a race reptile would have the shock of his life as he viewed the disappearing exhaust pipe of the GS. It would hit 100mph in what seemed like five seconds, though there was no way I could measure it. I was too busy hanging on to the shaking bars. The trick was to annoy him so much that he'd go roaring past at an insane velocity just as the traffic was closing up......
Top speed wasn't much cop. It wasn't that the bike couldn't run up to 130mph, but that above 7000 revs secondary vibes were so fierce I could hardly hold on to the bars. It was okay for brief bursts of frantic acceleration but the manic shakes if sustained for more than a couple of minutes led to white fingers.
A stock GS also vibrates but it's not so bad that it'd stop me from cruising at 90mph. Taller gearing would obviously help as it'd push the vibration further up the speed band in fifth. I got such a kick out of the acceleration that I didn't want to change the ratios. It'd also help the fuel economy, 30 to 35mpg compared to 45 to 50mpg from a stock bike. Oil consumption was similarly heavy at 150 miles to a litre. The expense had to be balanced against the fun.
Further spons went on drive chains, about 3500 miles! Sprockets lasted no longer, though they were never exactly new. I thought that a slight amount of slop in the swinging arm bearings might've contributed to this. It certainly helped explain a propensity for speed wobbles at around 100mph.
After 1500 miles of immense enjoyment the swinging arm was so loose the bike veered off to the gutter on take-offs. A new set of bushes went in easily as I'd already spent the obligatory weekend removing the old spindle to swap swinging arms. The Girling shocks kept the back end under reasonable control but the front forks bounced recklessly when it regained the ground after a vicious wheelie.
The vibes and often wild handling meant that most of my riding was running through town at high speeds. Knowing that the bike had cost next to nothing, I could take some quite outrageous risks. I came close to wiping out the ends of the crankshaft several times; the GS has one hell of a wide engine for traffic work. That apart my cross town times kept breaking records and killing the egos of race replica riders. How sad!
The few times I took the bike cross country various chassis nastiness emerged. Made all the more interesting by the lack of brakes. The rear drum had linings and shoes just short of going down to the rivets. So not much help there. Engine braking would've been useful had not clutch chatter sounded like the drum was about to explode. That left a singular front disc that looked and felt like it'd come straight from a Honda CB250G5.
It shared with that unfortunate motorcycle a lack of power and evil wet weather characteristics. The front wheel of the seized GS had been wrecked in the crash. Eventually a friend had mercy on me, loaned me a GSX1100 front end. The braking on this was demonic rather than evil but strangely intensified the speed wobble tendencies.
Stock GS750s are pretty stable beasts as long as the tyres and suspension are kept in good fettle. Even with those indulgences, my GS would start shaking its steering head under excessive speed or large bumps. Even small bumps when running through corners. Cornering clearance was severely limited by the exhaust collector on one side and my own fear on the other.
I'm used to these big old Japanese fours, so should've known what to expect. But there seemed something particularly amiss with this chassis. The echo of the past owner's wife kept circling in my head. 'Killer machine, killer machine.' I took it to one of those frame straightening places but he reckoned everything was in line. Whilst I was there, his assistant was trying to straighten a GS550. There was a sudden bang, like the terrorists had arrive. The frame had exploded around the headstock, bits of tube expanding outwards. Given that level of proficiency I wasn't entirely convinced that my own Suzuki was straight.
A week later, I was hustling along the A4, trying to get out of London in one piece, when the chassis turned to jelly at about 70mph. You have to experience this kind of thing to feel the depth of fear and panic. Sitting on a bike that has gone totally out of control is a unique experience. Old hands will tell you to accelerate through the wobbles. My personal level of cowardice would not allow that. I hit the brakes and the prayer mat. It actually felt like I had two wheels going in completely different directions, with a huge bit of knicker elastic between them. The clocks were shaking so furiously it was difficult to watch the speed disappear.
Control of the Suzuki was possible, just, but there were a lot of cars in the way. The GS needed a couple of lanes before the wobbles died out. This reality sent the cagers wild, insane, mad with an excess of horns, screaming brakes and, as they rolled past my stationary and shaking form, lots of verbal insults. That day the gods had looked out for me. A few inches either way would've left me the centre of a massive pile-up. The focus of highway carnage. Thanks, but no thanks.
The GS had to be modified or sold. Finding a good GS750 chassis proved impossible. There was a lot of expensive dross about. One guy wanted a thousand notes for a bent non-runner! Seemed like everyone had decided that the GS was a modern classic. Pass the sick-bucket, please.
I could've off-loaded the bike as a runner to someone who knew no better, but my conscience wouldn't allow that. I'd only escaped death by a combination of experience and luck. I chucked the drag racer bits back on and sold it like that.
Gerry Kelly
Return to Contents for GS Fours
My Suzuki GS750 was a composite of many different parts, having come to me in a pile of crates, as an abandoned chop - without the chop bits as they were used elsewhere. The engine was stock and in good nick (I was assured) and the frame was straight and bright red. The rest was up to me, sourced from various breakers, friends of friends and my own stock of parts. The odd bit of engineering work was done by a friend who had converted his basement into a workshop.
It was quite an interesting way of resurrecting a motorcycle. Pick and matching bits to suit my own needs, so that I ended up with S & W shocks, a GSX1100 front end, a tank off a GS1000, a seat from something totally obscure, etc., etc. What I wanted was a mean, lean look with a minimum of mass and maximum of suspension rigidity. At times I felt quite righteous, for instance, dumping the whole dubious, self-destructive Suzuki electrical system. As the bike came together my excitement grew until one sunny morning it was time for my first ride.
The GS750's engine is an eight valve, DOHC four cylinder unit that makes 70 horses, most of which is absorbed moving the 500lb bulk of a standard machine. I figured my bike was 50 to 75lbs lighter but it was also over 40,000 miles old (going by the last MOT certificate as the original clocks weren't available), which was rather more than just run in even for a generally tough old mill like the GS750.
The roar out of the Motad was music to my ears, the rustle of valves sounded pleasant and the engine revved around the tacho without any hesitation. I wasn't too sure what I was expecting, but the motor picked up cleanly from tickover making a smooth take-off so easy that not even a sixteen year old novice straight from an automatic moped would mess it up. The gearbox clanked a bit but went into second and then third without any hassles. Winding back the throttle, the rev counter touched 6500rpm then went completely berserk, bouncing deep into the red.
Wow there, I screamed, as the GS tore up the road, only just avoiding cutting an apparently stationary cage in half. At least I'd found that the twin discs could scorch the tyres. The engine revved like crazy even in fourth and fifth gear, once into its power band there was nothing that could hold it, not even the deliberately tall gearing I'd fitted to give me a relaxed time when touring.
The next time I'd saw the previous owner he admitted that the owner before him, now that I came to mention it, had fitted an 840cc big bore kit with high compression pistons and high-lift camshafts. That explained how the bike had blown off my mate's CB900 so easily that he had been sent into a flurry of spanner wielding trying to suss out what the hell was wrong with his engine. It was a useful combination of tuning elements, the big bore kit increasing torque at low revs whilst the cams and pistons turned the motor fierce when the power really started to flow in.
With the modified gearing I was getting 100mph at dead on 6000 revs, which meant when it went over the ton in fifth it suddenly picked up power and tore off down the road as if it was supplied with rocket fuel. It only quietened down a bit once past 135mph when the sheer aerodynamic drag of the naked bike and large rider overwhelmed the power so completely that it took a very long straight and an uncomfortably contorted riding position to put more than 140mph on the clock.
One rather unpleasant side effect of the increased bore size was vibration, even a stock GS not exactly being free of secondary vibes. The bigger pistons played their melody out just as power came in and so bad was their resonance that the higher reaches of the rev range could only be sustained for brief bursts of acceleration. That meant, though, that cruising at 100mph in top was fine, as the vibes had yet to gather their forces to any great extent.
Due to the tall gearing, the transmission was unable to sustain speeds of less than 50mph in fifth and the top two gears were but rarely used in town, although there was no problem pulling off in first gear even up some pretty daunting hills with an equally large pillion on the back. An effective speed range in fifth of 50 to 110mph was fine by me as the torque would lunge us forward without needing to change down a gear or two to use the excesses of the power output.
With its mismatched suspension handling could've turned out pretty hairy. It was about an inch taller than stock which helped with the ground clearance but made it want to fall into corners. Also, if I was banked over and did something stupid like touch the front brake the bike would shoot up to the vertical like a rat up a drainpipe, something that scared the shit out of me the first time it happened. By way of contrast, the rear drum could be used without trauma or the throttle backed off if I didn't mind the chain churning away on its sprockets (which might help explain a 4000 mile life).
Stability was never entirely reassuring. I blamed the slightly worn Avons at first, as the bike felt like it was running on only a few millimetres of rubber but a new set of Metzelers were, if anything, even more on edge. The non-standard suspension may have subtly altered the steering geometry but although it usually felt a bit tenuous it never turned really weird, taking speeds in excess of 130mph with just the slightest of weaves that not even hitting some quite violent bumps would turn into the kind of vicious wobbles that old Jap fours are famous for performing.
I guess a lot of its integrity was down to the stiffness, tautness of the suspension, which reacted well to large bumps but allowed the minor stuff straight through to my hands..... having dumped the rubber mounting on the bars and pegs in search of improved feedback from the tyres. My last bike was so remote that the first I knew of a tyre sliding away was the heap going sideways down the road. With the GS I had rather an excess of information from the road and it took me a while to sort out the stimuli.
At the end of the day, after a month of hard charging, I had come to terms with the Suzuki's chassis, could use it as hard as any bike I've owned, aware of how far I could take it before it bit back. Make no mistake, these old fours can turn as venomous as a cornered cat, but my GS750 was one of the better of the breed, coming stock with the most conservation steering in the business that not even my mods could shake.
It was a pity that the same couldn't be said for the engine. Two months, 2500 miles into the game, things began to go badly wrong. There was a noise in the engine like a ball bearing was whipping around. The bike still went as well as ever so I dismissed it as just a bit of clutch rattle due to the need to balance the carbs (the logic to which is obscure.....) although no-one else in our gang seemed convinced of that explanation. The real problem turned up 25 miles after it had first occurred. I was waltzing through town at 50mph in second gear when there was a deafening bang and then a screaming back wheel. I took a manful grasp of the clutch and rolled into the gutter.
The motor had thrown a rod, a gaping hole full of hissing oil and smoke in the crankcase. Pushing the dead bike home I had plenty of time to reflect on the chances of resurrecting the engine. When I totalled up the cost of a top end rebuild, exchange crankshaft and the chances of getting it right, it worked out cheaper to buy a crashed bike for its engine. This one had 52000 miles on its smashed clock and looked like it had never been touched by a spanner (confirmed by the huge valve clearances).
The contrast between the tuned engine and the stock one was massive. It was as if I was riding an entirely different bike. Its worn components obviously didn't help, but even that didn't explain the meagreness of its power output and paucity of speed, acceleration and fun. 110mph in fifth was pathetic for a 750, some 450 and 500 twins giving me lots of trouble in the back street races. After a couple of days it dawned on me that whilst my taller gearing matched perfectly the 840's power it was much too heavy going for the worn 750. A smaller gearbox sprocket had some kind of spirit back in the bike and had I not enjoyed the first engine's excesses then I would've been satisfied with the machine but its new found blandness was too much for me to take.
The GS750 must've sensed my disaffection, for a mere 2000 miles into our relationship it started smoking like a stroker. The exhaust valves were shot, too many miles without a valve adjustment I'd guess. I put on the scarred head from the previous engine and rode around on the bike for a couple of hundred miles, as it was still useful for getting back and forth to work. Then I sold the GS before I ended up paying out any more money on it.
Overall, I just about broke even on the experience, but expended a hell of a lot of effort to put the original bike on to the road. GS750 engines are pretty tough in stock form, fun when tuned but not so reliable. The frame is strong with good geometry, most suspension will need replacing by now and the electrics are completely naff. I enjoyed myself most of the time but, these days, have moved on to a more modern Suzuki.
Jeff Stein
Return to Contents for GS Fours
This old guy had a lot of trouble wheeling the GS out of his garage. I could see why he might want to sell the bike - he was wider than he was tall and I doubted if he could he get more than the tip of a foot on the deck at a standstill. Not that the Suzuki GS750 was ill-proportioned just that it wasn't set up for the vertically challenged. With a bike that weighed 500lbs anyone under 5' 10'' was going to be in big trouble.
A 1979 model. In nice nick despite the 44000 miles of abuse and four owners in twelve years. Rather surprisingly, none of these owners had done any major mods. The bike still sported a shiny (obviously not the original one) four into two exhaust and stock seat. Mine for £1000! That was three years ago, the clock now reads 78000 miles and the bike has been used for just about everything. From wild drag racing to daily commuting to Continental outings.
The drag racing did show up the clutch, which is probably the same as that in the 550! It rattled a bit when I bought the bike but didn't start slipping until I'd done about ten wheelies in an hour! I knew something was wrong when the tacho read 10,000rpm and the speedo 50mph - in fifth gear! It would've been easy to melt the motor trying to keep up with my mates but an empty bank account persuaded me to restrain the right wrist.
Pattern plates went in after a predictable fighting match with the screws retaining the clutch cover. I don't think they'd been touched as there was no evidence of gouged screw-heads. They just didn't want to come out, a couple snapping off...I think the steel and alloy had corroded together. I was relieved to find that the old gasket came out in one piece and was reusable. If you use pattern ones make sure it doesn't block off any holes in the casing.
The pattern plates lasted no more than 4500 miles. I was really enraged when the clutch started to slip in town. Careful examination of the clutch drum revealed it was warped - I don't know whether it was caused by the new plates, old age or my own cack-handedness. Anyway, a used drum and set of plates was acquired from the breaker for the same cost as the pattern plates.
The happy ending soon disappeared when the final drive chain started creaking. By then daily adjustment was needed. Not only was the chain dead but also the sprockets were well hooked. I subsequently found out that a chain and sprocket set lasted for less than 6000 miles. GS Suzuki's do give their chains a hard time, especially in the bigger models. 70 horses and 500lbs do invoke heavy forces on the transmission.
About a week after replacing the chain, there was an almighty clanging noise from the side of the engine. I thought the gearbox was falling apart! I was almost relieved to find that the final drive sprocket was loose on its shaft. If it had actually fallen off all hell would've broken loose. Araldite was used on the fixing this time. Again, this is quite a common GS fault! Also, be aware that it's quite habitual for chains to snap and dig holes out of the crankcase - often repaired with Plastic Metal, which works for a while but can fall out when you least expect it. Having an engine dump its oil at 100mph could turn out to be quite invigorating!
Between 50,000 and 60,000 miles the bike ran with an incredible reliability. Just change the oil and filter every 2000 miles. This gave me time to really appreciate its virtues. Handling was secure, with none of the flightiness of later GSX models. It wasn't fast turning but went where you pointed it as long as a bit of muscle was applied to the low, narrow bars. The rear Koni shocks kept the back end in place even when the front forks lost their way. The springing was about right but the damping was too soft to cope with the mass over harsh bumps. It says something for the inherent strength of the tubular frame that it never became terrifying.
If the bike was let down in any one area it was comfort. The bars and pegs were well matched but the seat was a relic from an era when motorcycling was more pain than gain. I stuck it out for two months. Even on the mild commute to work it caused anxious moments and shrivelled marital tackle. A cute K and Q saddle for £20 from the breaker transformed the comfort. My mates laughed initially, but on the first 250 mile outing they were suddenly envious at my lack of bum pains. 500-600 miles in a day is possible.
Hard riding, especially in baleful weather, had one undesirable effect - the finish went off so fast that the bike could age five years in a weekend. Engine alloy, wheel finish, anything made from steel, and chrome all corroded promptly. Once the corrosion got a grip an inordinate amount of effort and time was needed to clean it up. So intense was the urge towards going back to nature that within 12 months the silencers were reduced to rubble. Another common GS trick that must've much enriched the coffers of aftermarket exhaust manufacturers.
The GS isn't heavily tuned by modern standards, runs okay either when the baffles are burnt out or with a pair of megaphones designed for old British twins. It's a bit noisy but the growl's acceptable below 5000 revs in town. It's interesting to note that 30 year old British silencers manage to retain their chrome!
At 63000 miles the camchain rattled away, although I'd never had to touch the automatic tensioner, which turned out to be reusable. The replacement went in without a full engine strip, although you have to be careful with the valve timing - a tooth out could mean a sump full of valves and pistons... That happened to a friend who had his Z1000 camchain replaced by a professional! Probably, the camchain was the original one the bike shipped with from the factory as they usually last for 50,000 miles.
By 65000 miles I was becoming a touch worried about the electrics, the most common malady on the GS series. Mine were original right down to a fuse-box prone to rusting. Blowing lights were the first sign of something amiss. The alternator and rectifier/regulator burn-outs are so well documented that I had a look at the electrics before great expense was involved. I couldn't find any obvious problems, such as loose wires or rusted connectors. Phoning around a few mates they reckoned it was most likely the rectifier/regulator about to expire. A used Superdream item was fitted and the bulbs stopped blowing.
For a while. Unluckily, that wasn't the end of the story. 3000 miles later the rectifier was burnt out, as was the alternator. That coincided with a period when I was using all the revs in the lower gears to keep a mate on a Z650 in sight. A new GS750 might better 125mph but my high mileage example didn't like to go over 115mph, though in the early days 120mph was possible. Neither was acceleration startling, although the engine had a reasonable mix of power and torque below 7000 revs.
A new Suzuki rectifier/regulator and rewound alternator solved the electrical hassles. However, of late I've started to worry over the state of the wiring loom. Aged Jap's often start shedding their insulation after fifteen years. The lights are barely adequate, the switches indifferent (needing regular doses WD40) and the stop-switch only lasts for 5000 miles.
Despite minor problems from such ancillaries, the engine still impresses with its ruggedness. Many have done more than a 100,000 miles. The chassis seems heavily built, but, judging by the level of corrosion, only because it's made from the cheapest possible steel. It's about due for a complete strip down, blasting and repainting, but I don't know if it's really worth the effort on such an old, high mileage bike.
A typical effect of age is on the disc brakes. Every horror that you ever read about discs is true for the GS750. Even with rebuilt calipers, discs that aren't warped Goodridge hose and new fluid, the brakes were never brilliant, having the same kind of sensitivity as a Russian condom (I've actually used one...). New brakes might last fifteen to twenty thou but I never got more than 8000 miles out of mine. Crap adequately sums them up, the GS saved from accidents by its stability and a useful amount of engine braking.
I fell off two times. Not bad going in 34000 miles of hard use. I can't even blame the cagers because each time it was down to poor tarmac condition. Once, a huge pot-hole caught out the front wheel when we were well heeled over. The bike went into an almighty wobble and the next thing I knew I was bouncing down the road like a football. The other time a layer of gravel sent us into a massive slide. My skin was damaged much more severely than the GS; saved by its engine bars and sturdy build.
Last week, I bought a really immaculate GS650M Katana. Fast and fierce compared to the aged GS750, flash and modern rather than classic and sedate. I like the differences between the models, will give the 750 an easier time in the future.
Gary Barnwell
Return to Contents for GS Fours
The wheelie came with a large detonation. The clutch definitely didn't like being dropped at 7500 revs! The front wheel rose off the ground, the bars waggling in my hands and obscuring forward vision. When I ran out of acceleration in first gear - at maximum revs the 750 four became rather vibratory - the front bounced back down, as if confirming the utter reluctance of the bike to indulge in wheelie madness.
My view of the road revealed a rapidly encroaching Transit van. I'd somehow wandered on to the wrong side of the road. It didn't take much thought to work out that the van would survive a head-on collision rather better than the Suzuki. Well made they might be but not that well made! I twitched the reluctant bars and just managed to twist past the van. Some steroid abuser Skinhead stuck his head out of the window and shouted plonker at me at the top of his voice. Charming!
This all happened on my first day of ownership of the 1978 machine. 16 years of abuse and 26000 miles hadn't really dented the GS750's sheen or ruggedness. Mostly because it was the fabled one owner, who was much more mature than mad. At £1500 (in 1994) it was a pretty good buy in my book. Additions to the stock bike were a set of Koni shocks, slinky saddle, plastic guards, full chain enclosure and stainless steel exhaust. It was one of those bikes that had been much lavished with tender loving care.
God knows what the poor thing thought about falling into my hands. After finding out that wheelies were not much cop, I threw in a bit of speed testing on the M4. The M4's heavily policed in the Welsh half but as I hadn't registered the bike in my name and didn't expect to stop for the cops it wasn't a big problem, was it?
The gearbox didn't like to engage fourth under a heavy throttle, making a stutter in the forward acceleration. The GS didn't want to do much more than 110mph under these circumstances. When I eventually wound it up successfully through the gearbox, the bike shot up to 120mph on the clock. It took a long time to pass 130mph and by the time 135mph was on the clock the poor old engine was trying to buzz its way out of the tubular frame.
The handling was something else. On a long, smooth straight the thing was weaving over a full lane's width of road by the time 100mph was on the clock. Almost certainly down to inadequate swinging arm bearing support - there was 500lbs of machine to fight against. When I went to swing the beast through a gentle curve at 120mph it was all over the shop and came out of the bend at 130mph with some strong handlebar shakes.
Later, I did find that it had one safety feature. If I wanted to tame the weaves in a curve - which basically meant getting the speed below 90mph when it was a whole different, much improved, bundle of metal - all I had to do was gently close the throttle a little, which had the added benefit of tightening up the bike's line in the bend.
Conversely, if not perversely, trying to lose speed using the front brake, which had been upgraded with Goodridge hose and EBC pads (and was therefore pretty good), made the bike buckle like a good 'un and try to run off the road. Even the rear brake had an unsettling effect on the GS when leant over and it was a big brute to duck and dive with when some unexpected obstacle turned up. I quickly concluded that the bike was only just in control of itself - and didn't, later, find anything to make me change that conclusion.
On the good side, the 120 mile ride home turned up no pains. The non-standard saddle was luxury personified and the riding position sporty without being excruciating. An excellent compromise that rarely turns up in modern bikes. Further adventures revealed that the only limit on a 500 mile day was a bit of tingling in my extremities, easily avoided by riding in the 75 to 90mph range in top gear.
The only real limitations to serious touring were that its naked nature meant I got cold and wet, and also that luggage was limited to what I could bung in a tank-bag, as it didn't like too much weight out back; wasn't even happy with the presence of a fairly light pillion. The Koni's might've been slightly under spec or it might just be poor weight distribution. It wasn't that much of a downer as I normally ride light and solo.
It's a heavy handling bike unless you're into steroids but one that becomes less wearying as you get used to it. Its width is hard going in traffic, I tended to end up winding the throttle up until a cage moved out of the way - the exhaust made a delightful howl at 7000 revs that drove both ped's and dogs completely wild. Wear boots as dogs have a strong inclination to take nips out of GS750 riders' legs.
After three months the bike and I had settled into each others ways. I'd become a bit more moderate on the throttle as there didn't seem anything to be gained from bouncing the valves through the gears - other than the antisocial exhaust howl!
Maintenance wasn't too nasty. Change the oil every 1500 miles! Electronic ignition plus valves and carbs that had settled in nicely and didn't need any attention, meant it was an easy life. The full chain enclosure meant that chain adjustments were rare - the GS series have a bit of a reputation for tearing through chain and sprocket sets in around 5000 miles, so a full chain enclosure is well worth having.
The well built DOHC four cylinder engine made all of 70 horses. Not exactly state of the art but the relative mildness meant it was more or less bullet-proof. The one weak spot was the alternator, along with the rectifier/regulator; either or both could burn out with little warning. Mine was running a Superdream rectifier/regulator and had been rewired (I don't know if the alternator was rewound or not) and it all seemed to work well.
Don't try running a stronger headlamp or adding any heavy-duty accessories (like handlebar warmers), at the best the electrics are marginal. The front light was up to 50mph cruising down unlit country lanes, but it wasn't the kind of beam I'd like to suffer for long on unlit roads.
On one occasion I was hurtling along when I spied a black shape in the murky glow of the light. I only realised it was a dead dog after the front wheel had run over it (it was dead by the time the GS finished with it, anyway)... the bars twitched a couple of times but the sheer, excessive momentum of the Suzuki carried us forward.
In a year I did 13000 miles without any real problems. Didn't even fall off or hit anything - a minor miracle given the way I like to ride - though there were a couple of near misses. The excess of the GS tended to make the more nervous cager twitch out of the way. Even the cops looked on the machine in a generally benign way.
The bike qualified for classic insurance (about £90 for TPF&F), fuel was around 40mpg and it needed two sets of tyres as it went all weird when the tread was down to 3mm - not the kind of machine to run on bald rubber. No way! The front pads were another heavy wearing item at around 4500 miles a set - not that surprising as the bike often needed to be pulled up heavily for the bends as an alternative to falling off.
The engine's good for at least 50,000 miles, often twice that or more. The clutch and valves are the main faults on high milers, both easily checked. The clutch may rattle at tickover but it should go away when the throttle's twitched. The electric's are nasty. The chassis is strong but prone to rust, and the suspension needs to be upgraded.
You can buy a rat for less than £1000 but it'll need a lot of work. Better to pay £1500 to £2000 for something sound with sensible mod's (make sure the engine's stock, though). I sold mine for £1750.
Dave Harris
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