Copyright (c) umgweb.com 1988
I finally sold my Ducati 450 after receiving an offer I just couldn't refuse. I had sufficient funds to buy a new 125. Why a 125? Well, I am a middleaged codger and I find, these days, that a 125 meets all my biking requirements. Also, I already had a Yam RD125LC and a TZR125, so I could tax all three for £30 a year and insurance, with a Rider policy, would not increase however many 125s I had.
After the Ducati, I fancied another four stroke single, so the choice in the 125 class was between the Suzuki GS125ES and the Honda CG125. It was really no contest. I chose the Suzuki because of its promise of better long term reliability and its more up to date styling. I was pleased with its Katana like looks and bright red paint. It cost just over £1600 on the road, not cheap but I hoped it was going to give me many years of economical transport.
The GS has a learner legal 12hp single cylinder OHC motor with a five speed gearbox. It is well equipped with a small handlebar fairing, electric starter, tacho and a speedo which has a trip mileometer. It also has a gear position indicator which is useful with the Suzuki's close ratio gearbox, and good sized indicators which show up well.
One feature that I am not all that keen on is the four position switch which works the indicators and dips the lights; very awkward with heavy winter gloves.
The bike has cast alloy wheels with a disc brake on the front and drum on the rear. The front forks are sensibly fitted with gaiters, however the twin rear shocks and chain are open to the elements. Suzuki really should enclose these items on a bike which will generally be used for commuting in all weathers. Unlike most other modern 125s, the Suzuki has a centrestand, although the sidestand has a powerful spring which tends to fold up too easily for me to trust it.
Build quality seems inferior to my Yamaha. The Suzuki's suspension seems crude compared to the Yams' and the front brake lacks the bite of those fitted to the strokers........ admittedly, the GS can't easily be tuned whereas the strokers can double their power so need better brakes and suspension.
For the first 500 miles of running in I was supposed to not exceed 5000rpm, 35mph in top gear. It was early summer and I mainly pottered along quiet Cotswold back roads. Strangely, in the warm, dry weather this was rather pleasant and relaxing. The Suzuki's black megaphone styled exhaust emitted some pleasing notes.
After 500 miles, and an oil and filter change, the handbook instructed that I was able to open the engine up progressively to 7500rpm, which gave a speed of 55mph. I was surprised by the engine's smoothness and torque at high revs. After a 1000 miles of running in, I was able to gradually build up the engine revs to the redline at 10,000 revs, a top speed of 70 to 75mph depending on weather conditions.
I generally cruise now at 8000rpm without the little engine showing any distress. During the initial stages of running in the bike was averaging a quite astonishing 140mpg. Now, whilst commuting to work at a cruising speed of between 35 and 60mph, I am regularly getting 120mpg. The engine's torque, considering its small capacity, is excellent, I never have to change below third gear on our steepest local hills.
Our local roads have been swamped with cars in the past few years and in the rush hour traffic is virtually continuous in both directions. I was finding that I couldn't even use the power of my 20hp Yamahas as safe overtaking is almost impossible. With the Suzuki, I just plonk along with the traffic, well able to keep up with the cars, filtering through any hold-ups.
Whilst the bike is able to hold its own in the traffic light GP against most cars, it lacks the searing acceleration of my strokers. As a result chain and tyre wear is less, the chain requiring only the odd adjustment every 2000 miles despite its narrow width.
Roadholding is good up to 50mph, over this speed the crude nature of the bike's suspension becomes apparent. The bike tends to be knocked off line a little on bumpy bends. Ground clearance is poor and on several occasions my boots have touched the deck. Tyre grip seems reasonable in the wet, although I don't push my luck, these days. The bike becomes uncomfortable on long runs, unlike the Yams which will do 200 miles without hassle.
Servicing the GS is simple with its two valve engine, electronic ignition and 2500 mile service intervals. An easily accessible and cheap oil filter is changed at these intervals. The engine oil also lubricates the gearbox, as the wet sump only holds two pints I use high quality Motul oil.
A common fault, and one which I experienced, is the rear brake light switch which seizes, causing the brake light to stay on all the time. This is caused by the very exposed position of the switch to road water.... anyway, a brilliant rear light is an advantage on dark winter nights.
During the past hot summer, I have pondered on the sanity of people who commute to and from work in cars. At the end of their day's toil they go out to their cars that have been parked in the hot sun all day and must be like ovens. They then swelter in endless queues on their way home, generally one to a car, burning up expensive petrol. I filter past them on the Suzuki, out in the fresh air using a fraction of the fuel they are wasting standing still.
I can understand people using cars in the winter but in the summer we've just had, no way. The GS125ES has turned out to be a versatile, economical commuter and I look forward to many years of reliable service.
V.G.Dusang
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A 1992 Suzuki DR350 that had done just 2800 miles seemed too good a deal to miss, especially when the cost was very low and I had no machine available for the cross London commute. It wasn't so much the cost of the two buses and three tubes necessary that I objected to, although that was bad enough, it was the two hours travelling time in each direction that really got me going. Mind you, I did quite enjoy reading three novels a week.
I gave the bike a good going over but could find little to complain of, looking as it did pristine with no apparent signs of off-road abuse. The owner had lost his job and the bike had become just an expensive indulgence - I tended to believe him, he looked an honest kind of chap.
The test ride revealed a lively engine, a light chassis and that the motor would stall until properly warmed up. Starting had been a little difficult, with a poorly placed kickstart lever that made it awkward to start whilst aboard the bike. I figured that I could learn to adapt to its needs. Money was swapped for registration document, both of us happy with the deal.
The ride home was in the evening, with the light fading fast. 25 miles to do, I soon found the first problem with the DR, a mediocre front lamp that had a vague dip and an even poorer main beam. I have ridden on CD's and C90s that had worse lights but there did not seem much in it, although time does tend to cloud ones memories a little.
At least the Suzuki had an adequate turn of speed, being able to hang on to the tail lights of speeding autos - cruising the back roads at 70 to 80mph was no problem for the engine but I was a bit worried about running over a dead dog or displaced log.
After the thirty minute journey my eyes were a bit strained but otherwise the bike seemed fine. Fitted with a gear driven engine balancer the OHC engine had whirred away happily enough with no signs of the dreaded single cylinder vibes. I'd owned an XT350 with 28000 miles up for a while and had my eyeballs well shaken when I caned that engine in the lower gears.
If the DR350 appeared no faster it was at least one hell of a lot more sophisticated. This went for the handling as well, despite its trail orientated suspension it had none of the horrible wallowing of the old XT, feeling planted to the ground on my initial excursions.
In the wet, though, the OE tyres were not what could be called inspiring, the front more than the rear being an instant cure for constipation. At first it gripped well but I soon found it displayed a wild inclination to suddenly let loose, when by definition, I was way banked over. I soon discovered that thanks to its narrow engine and tough chassis serious damage was easy to avoid in low speed crashes. A pity the same could not be said for my elbow and knee.
A set of Avon Gripsters soon sorted out the road holding - they actually felt a little less secure on dry roads initially, but after about 500 miles this feeling disappeared - either the tyres being scrubbed in or my subconscious compensating for the effect.
A disc at each end seemed pretty damn silly for a trail bike, but on the tarmac they complemented each other well, having no problems pulling up the minimal mass of the Suzuki. It's too soon to comment on pad wear, caliper rotting or longevity of the discs, I'll just have to wait to see how things turn out.
Hopefully they will fare better than the frame paint which has already, with a mere 7,945 miles done, started to fall off in a couple of places. Rust formed the instant the paint disappeared and threatened to spread like wildfire had I not quickly cleaned it off and painted over it. The exhaust finish is also threatening premature demise. The rest shines up okay with a minimal amount of work.
I can take these minor problems in return for the way the DR can be snapped through London traffic - it must be one of the easiest of bikes to ride in town; although if spark plug changes are neglected every 2000 miles the mill will stall at low speeds and be a real bugger to start again. As long as you realise it's only a duff plug, no real hassle.
The journey that takes about two hours on public transport takes between 20 and 35 minutes on the bike, depending on traffic density and my own mood. I don't really approve of doing 60mph between lines of stalled cagers but the madness does grip me from time to time.
I tend to stick the bike in third or fourth, letting the motor slog it out, although to be truthful there is neither an excess of torque nor power below 4000rpm, although the engine is smooth down to 1500rpm whilst the transmission is slick whether under hard acceleration or just indulging in mild riding.
Long rides have not been indulged too often, about 250 miles of country lane snooping being the most I've done. The Suzuki proved fine for such abuse, the trail bike riding position giving loads of leverage for rapid cornering and the mere 93mph maximum speed not proving too much of a downer.
I've even hustled the DR along the odd fifty mile stretch of motorway without driving myself mad. A much greater distance or more than the 75 to 80mph I was doing would have probably led to severe stress to arms and neck, but that should be pretty obvious to anyone considering one of these bikes just from looking at them.
My greatest disappointment was fuel economy that but rarely bettered 60mpg, the absolute best being 64mpg. Usually it was worse than 50mpg, on such a small bike, albeit one with the aerodynamics of a brick shithouse, that was pretty appalling. I was amazed to get 36mpg on one flat out dash up the A1, but the bike was held at 85mph into a strong headwind for most of the distance.
The motor could also be quite heavy on oil needing a pint every 200 miles. The rest of the engine has been totally reliable, not needing any valve or carb adjustments; the rest automatic, so can be neglected with a clear conscience.
Comfort was acceptable for about the first 120 miles, thereafter the seat went rigid and fatigue set into my poor old neck muscles. The bike was still easy to control, once out of town the mill could be dumped into top gear and rolled along on the throttle, although both clutch and gearchange were so easy to use that I often played games on the box.
I'm pleased with the bike, intend to keep it for a couple of years and expect it to be a reliable warhorse.
Duncan Browning
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The dealer was very nice. Oh yes, he was a good guy. Going to do me a real nice deal on a '93 Suzuki DR125S. Deal of my life, he said. I could ride out of the showroom with a big grin on my face. I should've known better, I'd done an apprenticeship of sorts on an old Yamaha FS1E so I wasn't a complete idiot. But the shiny DR125 had gripped my mind with thoughts of flash highway madness and, well, loadsa fun. Every seventeen year old has a god given right to the maximum amount of excess. Right?
So there I was, after handing over a large wedge, with this neat looking trailster powered by the obligatory 12hp motor, though in this case an OHC four stroke rather than the more normal rattly, short-lived stroker. Related as it was to the well regarded GS125 mill, I thought it was bound to last for ages and not need any regular maintenance, save for the very odd oil change.
The kickstart needed a much more manly kick than the FS1E ever required. Deter the thieves, I thought optimistically, as I almost expired on the tenth attempt. The dealer was leaning against his doorway with a cynical smile written on his fat face. One final desperate lunge made the engine explode into life. The dealer jumped a foot in the air when the engine back-fired. Ha, ha!
Riding off, I thought, this is interesting, the damnable thing wants to go up on to the pavement. Push the bars that way, lean the other, and it straightened out. Felt rather weird to be all contorted just to ride in a straight line. It was a mild consolation that it only shot off towards the left on acceleration.
I soon settled down, worked my way up the five speed gearbox. Nice slick box, light clutch and a lack of fearsome power made it even easier to ride than an FS1E. 5000 revs in top was smooth, quiet and relaxed. Felt I could keep going for ages until I went to lean into a gently sweeping curve. I'd taken that bit of road flat out at 45mph on the FS1E (it was an early one that wasn't restricted and even had pedals for when the fuel ran out or the engine broke). At the same speed on the DR it felt like I was riding a camel with a broken leg.
Lurching home I was a bit distraught. Check the wheel alignment. Miles out. I got the wheels in line but it left a huge discrepancy between the eccentric chain adjuster marks. I tried it like that, felt rotten in a straight line and I almost came off the first time I banked over. I played about with the wheels a bit more, but something seemed miles out of line. Took the seat and tank off. Ouch! Bent top frame tube. I pulled the gaiters up, there were some indentations in the forks where they had been straightened. I then noticed that the front rim was a different colour to the back and the mudguard was different to that in the Suzuki brochure.
It was too late to return to the dealers. The next day I wobbled over there with murder in my heart. Mr Dealer backed up by a couple of muscular mechanics denied everything. Reckoned that I had obviously fallen off and caused all the damage myself. When he came out with that pile of garbage I saw red, lunged at him, getting one good punch in before the gorillas grabbed hold of me and threw me out into the street.
I went to see the police who just laughed, sending me to the Citizen's Advice Bureau where there was a mile long queue which hadn't moved a foot after an hour. I gave up. Wobbled home, being followed by a police car for half a mile. The way the bike was wandering all over the road they probably thought I was drunk out of my head. They sped off suddenly, saving me from that interrogation. As I neared home I was down to 10mph as the idiot council had put a huge bump in the road to stop hooligans speeding. Bang! My heart nearly stopped as the front forks broke and I was thrown over the bars.
I couldn't believe it! My life savings were blown on a machine that looked like it belonged in a skip. I had to get some neighbours to help me carry the two separate sections into the house. The fall had almost dislocated my neck and I could barely cart my own mass around.
The next day, after telling my parents a pile of lies about studying hard for the next year, I had enough money in hand to buy some forks and a frame from a breaker. There wasn't a logbook, the dealer had just winked when I'd enquired. It was then just a matter of tearing all the bits off one bike and putting them on to the other one. That was what I told my mother who was rendered speechless (for once but not for long) when she saw how I'd transformed the front room into a centrally heated workshop.
After a week I'd learnt more than I wanted about how to put motorcycles together but was back on the road. I wasn't far off having spent the cost of a new machine putting the DR back together! The steering was brilliant after the previous horrors, couldn't fault it. I was soon in much better spirits.
I even thought up a way of extracting revenge on the dealer which involved sawing up the frame and doing something very nasty with the bits and some petrol, but we won't go into that here as it would get me arrested.
The DR turned out to be very cheap to run, which was very important as I had sod all money left to spend. Fuel was even better than the FS1E, with 80 to 90mpg on hand even when the engine was caned. The other consumables just didn't seem to wear. It was hard work putting 70mph on the clock and even harder work keeping it there. The trail biased gearing obviously didn't help, as the engine would buzz flat out in fifth with a frenzy of vibes from an engine that had no balancers but was relatively smooth at 65mph. Taller gearing would've been more relaxing and just as good in acceleration, as I often took off in second.
The gearbox sometimes felt a bit vague but didn't actually miss any changes going up the box but changing down was a bit hit and miss. As the speedo probably came from a different bike I had little idea of what mileage the engine had done, so new ones might be better. Mine had started out slick but as soon as the engine became hot, say after fifteen minutes of town abuse, the vagueness set in.
I began worrying about the engine. When I checked the valves they were miles out. Oil was disappearing as fast as I could fill up the sump, or so it seemed to me. I thought I could hear the camchain rattling away but the adjuster was supposed to be automatic. After about three months it started stalling dead in town for no apparent reason. Took six or seven kicks to reluctantly fire up, which was long enough to have the cagers going crazy on their horns.
When I tried to remove the spark plug it wouldn't move. Right, I thought, I know how to deal with that, the special plug socket from dad's toolkit, long lever with another tube over the top of it. The bike threatened to fall off its stand, the plug acting like it's welded to the head. Tap the lever with big hammer. Nothing. Right, one big lunge, bound to shift it.
And it did. The violence of the hammer blow, the sudden movement of wrench, sent me flying and the spark plug spinning off. After landing on top of an old oil can, becoming covered in stinking lubricant, I picked myself up and headed for the wrench. The bloody spark plug had broken in half, leaving an unassailable bit in the head.
The only way to remove it was to take the head off. Even then it wasn't going to be easy to shift. Off with the cylinder head then. The piston and bore thus revealed didn't look too hot, so off with the cylinder as well. May as well do a proper job. Aaargh! The small end bearing was loose! I could've cried like a baby. Looking at the cylinder head there seemed some white stuff around the edge of the remaining plug body; probably Araldited in after some moron stripped the thread. Not good, then.
After asking around for prices on all the used bits I'd need it became pretty obvious that I'd be better off buying a used motor. All it would need would be a mild crash for me to have ended up replacing every bit on the Suzuki.
Final happiness arrived with a good used motor and my passing the test first time. The DR's an ideal bike to learn on, no doubt about that, so don't take too much notice of this sorry tale. Other than to keep enthusiasm in check when buying seemingly beautiful bikes in a blur of passion
Eric
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The police car followed me through the town, stayed with me for five miles of country roads then pulled me over. He reckoned that before the town I'd taken a bit of country road at 78mph when I should've been doing no more than 60mph. Indeed, the way the back wheel was weaving around I should be locked away for dangerous driving, shouldn't I? I obviously didn't bother to use my mirror, did I? I didn't think it was a good idea to inform him that once 8000 revs were reached the mirrors blurred into uselessness.
The burly police officers towered over me as I tried to act both submissive and contrite at the same time. It was at times like this I was thankful for not being in a third world country with gun totting pigs. After another ten minutes hectoring they decided they'd had enough of tormenting me and let me off with a warning and document check at the local police station. If I'd been on some big bike I would've been booked, one of the more obscure virtues of owning a small, sensible bike like the GS125.
Normally, it was hard work to break the speed limit. A long deserted straight and following wind had combined to urge the Suzuki past its previous best of 75mph. 65mph wasn't too much trouble but getting up to 70mph depended on external conditions and my willingness to whip the engine into the red in third and fourth before finally whacking the box up to fifth.
The gearbox was one of those slick units that Suzuki are so good at producing, capable of changing as fast as you can move your foot. The clutch was so sensitive that even a novice could roll off without stalling first time out and so light that even hours of abuse in town had no effect on the left hand. Even better, over the years, as the miles clocked up, it lost none of its niceness.
Even when the bike was bounced up to the 10,000rpm red line, the gearbox showed no qualms about being abused with clutchless changes. The engine had no balancer system, something that was evident from 7500rpm onwards when both the seat and footrests were afflicted by a mild dose of the tingles. The only time it really got to me was after a six hour, 300 mile hustle when my bum was numb and my feet went dead. It took about half an hour for my body to recover, my strange lurching gait producing no end of amusement for a bunch of tourists who were sharing the lay-by.
The riding position, that vibration apart, was pretty good for a small bike. I was certainly able to last the distance much longer than a friend on a cafe racer X7, who was squirming all over the place after half an hour. Town riding was no problem and the worst that happened after a couple of hours in the seat was that my mind went numb from the boredom resultant from the lack of speed.
The engine was happy idling along at low revs, although an excess of throttle was needed to make it shift in a way that stopped cars from running me over. It would shuffle along at 45mph down the back roads, with 6000rpm on the tacho, with nary a care in the world and a resonant blast out of the short megaphone style silencer. Riding around like that would turn in exceptional fuel economy, around 140mpg. Harder use still gave 110mpg, which equated to a range of over 200 miles, although you needed a fast hand on the reserve switch to stop the engine going dead. I usually added a gallon every time the bike did a 100 miles, just to be on the safe side.
With low cost tax, reasonable insurance and the above frugality, there were few cheaper ways of bopping around the country. Something with which I kept on annoying colleagues at work, laughing out loud at their protestations. I could do the 10 mile commute in a fifth of the time they took, stalled in traffic as they were for most of the time, for about a quarter of the cost. They kept muttering about British weather and crashes, but I rode the bike all year around without any incidents.
Handling was generally neutral. The suspension could've been a bit more supple, the lightweight machine being shook around a bit on bumpy country roads, although it was far from being thrown off the tarmac. On smooth surfaces there was a reassuring lack of weaves and wobbles. The machine was so light and so lacking in outright speed and blurring acceleration that the basic tubular frame was more than adequate to the task.
After about 30,000 miles the rear shocks felt a bit soft but were tolerable as long as I didn't go two-up. I weighed eleven stones and even the weight of my ten year old child on the pillion was sufficient to knock the edge off acceleration, speed and handling. That's just about what you'd expect from a 12hp learner. Unlike the strokers, there is no easy way of upgrading these bikes to a more powerful specification. I feel that about 20 horses was all that I'd need for my motorcycling pleasures on a bike of the same mass. As it was, I often found myself pushing the GS right to its limits.
Even ridden hard, all the Suzuki really needed was a regular oil change and a new oil filter every third oil change (which were done every 1000 miles). I tended to put a new spark plug in every 8000 miles, otherwise the normally easy starting would need such a long time on the electric boot that the battery threatened to flatten. The valves and camchain needed a very occasional tweak but the single carb never needed a finger laid upon it. By 30,000 miles there was a very slight oil leak at the cylinder head gasket, but it was never so bad that I had to add oil between changes.
Another area that needed little attention was the brakes. The front disc was initially viewed with deep suspicion, having read about all their quirks in the UMG, but proved to be a reliable means of losing speed. I could've done with a bit more feedback in the wet. In the first couple of months I'd inadvertently locked up the wheel a couple of times. This terrifying experience didn't recur after I became used to the bike, either the brakes had bedded in or I'd become more sensitive. The original pads lasted for 16000 miles, the EBC replacements for 12500 miles, but to be fair to them they helped make the brakes a bit more responsive in the wet and cost about half of what Suzuki were demanding for replacements. The rear drum never caused a moment's trauma and the shoes are still original.
The rear tyre was the one weak spot on the consumable front, lasting only 7500 miles but the chassis was willing to accept any half worn rubber the breaker had on offer, although I drew the line at nearly dead Jap tyres as they seemed to turn rather vicious in the rain. The front tyre lasted nearly twice as long but provoked some pant staining slides when the tread was down to less than 2mm. Despite it being a single, the chains lasted for about 20,000 miles but I did give them a daily brush over with old engine oil and soaked them in an oil bath before and after winter.
The bike celebrated reaching 30,000 miles by breaking its speedo cable, the first cable to go on the bike. The breaker handed over a used one for a quid. I greased it before I fitted it, the old one was completely dry. A couple of weeks later the starter motor failed, again a visit to the breaker produced a replacement. Two problems coming together was so unusual on the GS that I wondered if it was at the end of its life.
The state of the exhaust was also cause for concern. The downpipe had quickly gone rusty, but after four years the baffles had rusted through and holes were appearing in the silencer. The only one the breaker had on offer was in an even worse condition, but for a fiver he gave me a chrome megaphone that went straight on. The engine was in such a mild state of tune that it ran fine with this silencer and the noise level was acceptable below 5000 revs. The only other hassle I had was a stoplight switch that needed a weekly dose of WD40.
After just under five years there were 35000 miles on the clock. The GS still looked good, handled okay and went just as well as when new. Even if the engine had been on the way out I could've fitted in a nearly new engine for a few hundred quid. I decided I needed something a bit bigger, ended up trading in, for a very good price, for a new KLX650. Suzuki GS125s are excellent bikes as learners or commuters but not quite up to open road work for extended periods of time.
Andrew Hurley
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It all happened one quiet, cool Saturday morning when I was mooching around the local motorcycle dealers whilst she who must be obeyed did the rounds in the nearby supermarket. I'd be warned that whilst I was allowed to look I should not expect to be able to buy anything, a long list of essential domestic items had priority.
Being old myself, the plastic replicas were ignored in favour of a couple of ancient Japs that the chief mechanic had restored. Then I saw the DR350. Splendidly simple it seemed to my jaded eyes. The problem was that although new it was on special offer for that week only. I had been gently coaxing the wife into the belief that the cost of a C90 could be justified on grounds of economy, but I thought, bugger that, you only live once. After sitting on it for a few moments and playing with the controls I was smitten. One large cheque later the deed was done and I could collect it next week.
When the wife turned up I pointed out the DR in the window to her and received the usual primitive reaction, 'You don't want one of those stupid looking things...' It took me a few days to broach the subject and I was treated like a mass murderer for the next couple of weeks. By then I had the DR as consolation......
Kickstarting a 350cc OHC single into life could be a fearsome business in the sixties but modern engineering made it a cinch. Second kick and I was away. The gearbox was so light that I almost made a double change and the counterbalanced engine smoothed out after a slight thrumming at tickover. With its upright riding position, as long as you have reasonably lengthy legs, the DR was so relaxed that I was soon at home with the controls.
It took me an hour or so to become used to the fact that I no longer had to sit in traffic, that the Suzuki could be swiftly ridden through motorcycle sized holes. In the car the one way commute to work took a good 90 minutes, on the DR it only took 15 to 20 minutes. For the first month or so I did two hours extra overtime a day, the additional money helping to restore domestic tranquillity. I kept telling the wife that the 60 instead of the car's 30mpg would also help save money, conveniently forgetting to mention the stack of bread blown on helmet, gloves, boots, jacket and waterproofs.
One day I came home early, having tired of the grind by five o'clock. I rode really hard through the traffic, amazed at the responsive way the DR handled and content with the manner in which the long travel suspension soaked up the bumps. I'd never before done the trip so rapidly nor arrived home so early. Only problem was that I found the wife being rogered by the neighbour, the quiet of the DR's exhaust not intruding into their groans and cries.
Given that the wife had been a reluctant, once a month, think of England, type in my hands for the past five years I was well pissed off. I just walked out with a few clothes and essential gear, early the next morning emptying our bank accounts and leaving the bitch to pay off the huge mortgage she had insisted was necessary for our comfort and status. I also phoned my neighbour's wife up, to drop him in it! Nasty? Too right. Anyway, I had my freedom, about 7000 quid and, of course, the DR350...
I soon quit my job, headed down to the south of England. By then the DR was well run in but had trouble holding its own on the motorway, needing to be run along flat out at 85 to 90mph. The bike really needed taller gearing as it was never exactly relaxed, always feeling a little nervous. As it was summer I was quite happy to sleep rough, running the DR off the road over some fields until I found a secluded spot. On dry grass the handling was fine, but gravel had the back end swaying around like an out of control strimmer. I think it was probably the tyres as the swinging arm was a hefty, high-tech, glued together alloy job and the mono-shock rear suspension was always taut and responsive. Even with the wild machinations of the back tyre the DR350 remained controllable as it only weighed 250lbs.
Comfort on long runs was a bit of a problem. At any kind of serious speed my neck and arm muscles were seared with pain after about 45 minutes. The seat was hard and shaped by a sadist so that it felt like someone was trying to stick a sharp pole up my spine. Every hour I had to pull over, leap up and down to restore my muscle tone, and walk around for a good five minutes..... okay, I'm over fifty so more youthful dudes may fare better.
I ended up in London, as most refugees from the north tend to do. If the DR had been less nifty in town then I think the mad traffic would've had me off in no time at all. Special praise should go to the single disc brake, which lost speed in an instant but never came close to doing anything nasty. The trail bike set-up seemed ideally suited to the slimy, pot-holed roads and the chaos of millions of cars driven by frustrated madmen.
As London was very expensive I ended up doing a few months work as a despatch rider. I wasn't quite the oldest guy on two wheels but it was a close run thing. Not knowing where I was going and not riding like a lunatic meant I was probably the slowest DR ever seen in the capital, so I didn't make a fortune, just enough to pay for the rent, food and beer. The DR proved incredibly tiring to ride for ten hours in a day, day after day, and I'm sure that the whole process aged me by ten years.
Luckily, some contract work turned up where my age and experience in engineering were an asset rather than liability. The DR ended up being a bit neglected, doing a five mile, cross London commute every day. The first sign of the strain came at 8200 miles when it started to need ten kicks before the motor would fire. A new spark plug solved that but apart from one valve check and 2500 mile oil changes it hadn't received any serious attention.
By 10,000 miles the final drive chain was threatening to leap off the sprockets and the tyres were so dubious that in the wet I was having some inspiring slides. So some money went west on new consumables but generally the bike was proving very cheap to run, its simplicity paying off in the lack of maintenance chores.
By the time 10,000 miles were done I was getting to that point where I'd really like a bit more power, and although the bike was quite competent and I was becoming a little bored with the experience. I started looking around for a replacement.
I kept the bike until 12000 miles when the exhaust was looking a bit rusty and some frame paint had started to fall off, probably down to a very bad winter. General finish and longevity, except for the toughness of the engine, did not impress me. Still, the bike cleaned up nicely and I was given a large trade-in value on a Yam XT600E.
The Yamaha is much superior to the DR350S for road work, but I think I did the right thing starting out with the Suzuki - anyone who's been away from motorcycling for a long time will find the DR such an easy bike to ride that it'll let them get their old skills back without trying to kill 'em off.
J.G.
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I have to commute across London every day of the year. Too far and dangerous for my bicycle. Anything with four wheels a waste of time in the rush hour. Enter the need to buy a motorcycle. I fancied a used scooter but the test ride had the thing all over the road. Those stupid tiny wheels. The GS125E was the closest thing to a real motorcycle in the commuter category. I already had a full licence, could have gone for something bigger but insurance, purchase cost and consumable longevity were prime factors in my choice of machine.
In 1990 I bought a two year old bike for £500. Tatty cosmetics, including a rust bucket of an exhaust. But only 9000 miles and a sweet sounding little OHC thumper. Electric start, cast wheels and front disc brake. The bike was on the small side. Light enough to be deflected by a lorry farting but easy to spin out of harm's way.
I was so impressed by the way the GS ran that I quickly bought a new exhaust. My day was ruined by the bolts in the cylinder head shearing off. Naff alloy combined with corrosion. I borrowed an extractor and saved the threads. The new OE exhaust didn't match the chassis until persuaded into line with a tyre lever. That left some deep scar marks in the matt black finish. Heat resistant paint was brushed on but rust appeared within weeks. Why spoil the whole appearance of the GS with a gruesome exhaust?
The engine ran even better with its proper ration of baffling. Only 12hp due to the silly learner laws back then, the OHC unit could make as much as 20 horses in more enlightened markets but there was no easy way to derestrict it. Or if there was my local Suzuki dealer wasn't telling.
One good aspect of the lack of horses, perhaps the only one, was startlingly good economy. 100mpg required neither effort nor thought. Restrained riding, keeping the bike below 5000 revs, turned in an exceptional 125mpg. I know some old Brit would better it but only at the cost of a primitive and self destructive nature. Ridden slowly the GS would plod along with all the elan and excitement of a step-thru. It seemed unbelievably relentless, as if it would reach the destination even if I fell asleep at the controls.
The suspension made that unlikely. It could never be described as sophisticated, unless you'd misspent your youth on a Cossack combo. Too much of the road surface irregularities made it through the forks and shocks. Certainly, I always knew what was happening to the tyres. Allowing me to fit the cheapest available without the fear of finding myself suddenly flung down the road.
10 miles twice a day across London I could take without any serious pains. 100 miles down some rough country lanes left me barely able to walk. My spine and arms had taken a real hammering. Despite a most reasonable riding position that on its own never inflicted any pains, either in town or the open road. With a top speed of a mere 75mph (on the clock which may have been optimistic) this wasn't that great surprise. The concussions from the rear suspension were intensified by the way time and mileage had compressed the saddle's padding. I recently sat on a new one in a showroom that was much more comfortable, either newness or an improved specification.
The seat could easily have been upgraded with an aftermarket item, maybe one of those ugly but luxurious King and Queen jobs. However, for the vast majority of the time the bike was used for filtering at some speed across London. Lack of excessive comfort was the least of my worries. No, it was the antics of other road users that caused mental and, sometimes, physical discomfort.
The GS had a lot going for it in avoiding other vehicles. It was light so easy to hustle on to a new line. The combination of rear drum and front disc pulled us up within moments. Harsh enough to shudder the whole chassis. Hard use of the throttle and slick gearbox gave acceleration sufficient to burn off GTi's - up to 45mph, which few cars could manage through the snarled up vehicles. The narrowness of the chassis meant any hole in the traffic could be taken with neither worry nor thought.
By far the worst side of riding on London roads was the way the Suzuki reacted to the giant potholes. The first time I ran through a foot deep crater I thought I was going to fall over. The forks bottomed out, the bars were momentarily wrenched out of my hands and the whole bike wobbled. When the back wheel hit the same hole I was bounced out of the seat with what felt like a broken spine. I cursed, pulled over to the gutter to let my heart rate calm down.
Apart from the bruises, deep bumps also caused the GS to veer off the chosen line. As the gaps were often not much more than a whisker wider than the bars, sides of cars were lacerated. At least it stopped me falling off, although I'd taken the precaution of fitting a hefty pair of engine bars. After a time my body adapted to the ride and I learnt to use a heavy grip on the bars to keep it in line. I wouldn't like to think what would happen to a novice first time out in London traffic.
The lights didn't inspire much jubilation, either. True, they didn't flicker at tickover like many a stroker commuter. But their power wasn't really up to modern roads and I always felt a bit at risk at nights. I took to jumping the traffic lights instead of staying put like a sitting-duck for half cut cagers. The battery was sometimes reluctant to hold a charge and had to be replaced at 28,500 miles. The switchgear, especially the all important dip/main switch, was on the vague side. Given Suzuki's reputation for disintegrating electrics every week I sprayed WD40 over the switches and went over the more accessible connectors. It wouldn't have been impossible to fit other switches but I waited for them to actually fail. Only, they never did.
The engine was by far the most impressive element. Just ran and ran, with fairly regular oil changes and infrequent valve adjustments (every 5000 miles or so). It was so well built and lowly tuned that it ran to 46000 miles before the camchain started rattling. The valves needed replacing but the rockers were serviceable and the piston/bore looked new to my disbelieving eyes. New camchain and tensioner plus used valves had her back on the road. The engine was simplicity itself to work on, almost jewel-like in its engineering.
The bike has now done 52000 miles. The chassis hasn't become any more dangerous and the motor runs just as strongly and powerfully as ever. The chassis needed new bearings around the 40,000 mile mark and a repaint to hide all the rust that was simmering out of things like the petrol tank and frame. You see some fantastical rats running around as the cosmetics can go off really fast during a London winter. There are plenty of usable parts in breakers so it's not an expensive proposition to keep in reasonable shape.
I did try running with a huge Polaris type fairing out front but the sheer mass of the plastic and its Forth bridge brackets gave the GS the performance of a snail on fast setting cement. Even the great swathe of plastic didn't provide adequate protection in the rain as water swirled around the screen. It was soon sold to a friend with a CX where its size and shape were more at home.
Also, the added weight of a pillion did much to diminish the enjoyment of the little thumper. The radical redistribution of mass backwards sent the front wheel skywards and the handlebars shimmering. Some likely lad on a Puch Maxi could out-accelerate us! Trying to lean over had the undercarriage digging in, the pivot effect almost having us off. Unless you're a lithe sixteen year old with a similarly emaciated passenger, ride the GS125 as a solo.
So there are some limitations to the Suzuki, but these would apply equally well to it rivals. The motor's strong and strangely relentless. The chassis is generally safe but used examples have a rough ride, new ones may be a little more sophisticated. Compared to step-thrus and scooters it's about ten times safer. You won't find any other proper motorcycle that's cheaper to run. There are plenty of good ones on the used market and some new 'uns are heavily discounted in London (if you turn up at the dealers with a bagful of cash). Go for it!
Grant Darrell
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