A long time ago, my first proper bike: an A-reg Suzuki GSX550ESE.
With a couple of decades of hindsight, it was, frankly, a bit of a shed. But they all were, back then, as the Japanese manufacturers came to grips with the importance of adequate frames and the need for quality parts, meandered off down technical dead-ends that were a single-season's must-have gimmick and generally sat around waiting for Honda to invent the Fireblade.
But, quite importantly, I didn't know any better at the time. Prior to the GSX, I'd had a Yamaha QT step-thru (like a Honda C50 but with none of the charm) and, some years later, a Honda H100 (S2, naturally, you wouldn't want a rubbish S1, after all)!
Most of my mates had last-generation Japs, retro-style (although it wasn't retro in those days, it was happening)! CB's, Z's and GSX's, so it wasn't as though I had a lot to judge by. Which meant the red '84 Italian import was purchased for around £1500 (as I recall), bought just before taking my test as an incentive to pass. It was quite smart, clean and low-mileage having spent much of its life in a lock-up in sunny climes. Crucially, it looked sporty, in a Katana-ish kind of way, which was the main reason I picked it.
Later on in life, I'd find out that 16" wheels were not the most stable of things, that anti-dive brakes were a rubbish idea even when they worked (mine didn't), that bendy steel cradles were not the future of frame-making and that overweight, underpowered old buses did not turn into racebikes by adding a slightly pointy snout.
Back then, all I did was slap some insulating tape on the headlamp to make it British-MoT-legal and put some MPH stickers on the huge, oblong clocks. I didn't care, I thought it was the mutt's nuts because it had a sidestand, an electric start, did over the ton and had an actual gear indicator (they're making a comeback now on electronic dashes, but this was a manual thing - bit of coloured plastic on a slider behind a glass window)!
My first day of proper bike ownership.
Paddled it out of the front garden, looked at the high kerb, decided I'd be better off wheeling it instead. And I was, right up until it overbalanced in a way the 100 never did as the front wheel bounced down the gap. Or possibly, up until a split second later, when I realised how heavy a 500lb bike really was and how few useful things there were to grab hold of. Over it went. I said a bad word. Spent a few minutes figuring out how to pick it up, did so with an almighty heave...over it went on the other side. I said a number of other bad words, quite loudly and repeatedly. But it was now in a position to haul up with the sidestand down, so at least it stayed upright this time.
Luckily, it had engine bars fitted and - the logical precursor to frame mushrooms - those huge rubber-mounted indicators that stuck out miles. Sum damage - one lens, one bent lever and a few scratches. My mood brightened immediately, even if I had to go back to my dealer the day after collecting the bike and start sheepishly buying bits...
It got better from there on in. A bit, anyway. Suzukis of a certain vintage were not rigorously quality controlled. Everything went furry except the cheap black cast exhaust, which simply rusted. The plastics crazed and cracked and all the fairing fasteners broke. Bolts and screws made of a special form of cheese rounded their heads if you so much as looked at them. (Although, peculiarly, when you had to drill them out, the shank was invariably made of titanium-hard, drill-bit destroying metal.
I often wondered, profanely, if they deliberately used two different grades of steel to achieve that particular result). The electrics, always a weak spot for the Hamamatsu boys, developed a mind of their own. For the last three months I owned it, despite replacing every part of the lighting loom, indicating right would invariably blow the main fuse. I got through dozens, just by absent-mindedly forgetting not to use the indicators. The regulator/rectifier, of course, blew up and was replaced by a Honda one (ironic, since every Honda I've owned since has lunched it's regulator...).
Oh and just for laughs, I learned that sump plugs are not just a non-specific 15mm bolt, for which the Haynes manual recommends 70nm of torque to tighten. Actually, they strip completely at about 20nm! I couldn't afford a helicoil for some time, so it was down to PTFE tape and threadlock to wedge the plug back into the largely-threadless hole and a certain amount of prayer that the oil would stay on the inside of the block, not the outside of the back tyre. Fortunately, it did. Front tyre got a puncture, though - coincidence, I'm sure - which very nearly had me off as comprehensively as an oil spill would have done. Never did manage to crash it, though, after those initial drops.
But that mechanical malarkey was all part of the game in those days. At least I could ride across town without having to stop and retighten every nut and bolt, as my Triumph-owning mate seemed to.
The GSX would do an indicated 130 flat out (suspiciously, as Suzuki only claimed a top whack of 125 - probably it was more like a real 110) without blowing up. The ESE part indicated full-floating suspension (rear monoshock, in today's money), which did work quite well and was comfortable enough. Tyre wear wasn't an issue - the Pirellis (Matches, I think) were significantly harder than the tarmac and never seemed to have used any tread whatsoever. They never really gripped, either, as a result, but after riding the 100 on what looked like bicycle tyres, it was still an improvement.
Disk brakes, too: novel and much improved over the drums I had been used to. And even back then Suzuki were famed for good clutches and slick gearboxes.
In any case, it really wouldn't have mattered if it was the vilest machine ever made. I had no real experience of anything else to compare it to, so at the time it was fantastic. Like a kid with a new toy, I was on it every opportunity I had: we did miles upon miles together, dry, wet, everything in between, getting used to each other's foibles. I learned from the experience (don't think the bike did, though), in the year we were together, until it was time to move on to something different.
I've had a soft spot for Suzukis ever since (and an abiding loathing for Pirelli).
I doubt you'd find one in any sort of condition worth having these days - and, to be fair, if you weren't brought up on that sort of bike, you'd be disappointed. Even if you were brought up on them, you'd probably find nostalgia isn't all it's cracked up to be. There's a reason that manufacturers have moved on since then! It wasn't special, or noteworthy, even at the time; it's not on anyone's list of classic or landmark motorcycles. Any reasonably modern sports 250 or commuter 500 would outperform it by an order of magnitude. But it was my first introduction to real biking and that makes it still pretty dear to my heart.
Ratings are in comparison to a modern middleweight. At the time, they'd all have been 1 or 2 stars higher! |