Kawasaki Z 1000R-II Eddie Lawson Replica

THE EDDIE LAWSON REPLICA

JUST who the hell is Eddie Lawson, anyway? Until this year only a handful of race fans had seen him on this side of the atlantic — yet there was this 25-year-old newcomer to CP racing coming home second in the second leg of the British round at Silverstone. It wasn't his tenth or twentieth visit to the circuit, either. It wasn't even his second, because Lawson was seeing most of the European CP circuits for the first time. For all that, he made riding his big Marlboro Yamaha V4 look easy.

Okay, so this is supposed to be a roadtest of Kawasaki's new Z1000R, not a eulogy for a California man who could well make world champ someday. There's a big connection, of course, though you can blame the parochial nature of racing coverage in this country's komics if you haven't sussed what it is. Or haven't wondered why the R is Polar White instead of Mean Green.

Before Mr Yamaha swiped Eddie to back up Roberts in his last GP season, Lawson rode for Mr Kawasaki. He wore green Bates leathers and matching Bell helmet with 'Eddie' scrolled above a smoked visor. No-one could get near him and his Z1000J-based racer in '81 and '82, the years he won the AMA Superbike Championships in the States. Only Spencer and Wes Cooley came close . . . but never close enough.

Lawson's kWacker was a mean piece of machinery. Nearest thing to it in this country was the flat-barred F1 Kawa Wayne Gardner rode a couple of year ago but Eddie's super-bike was a tricker beast. It used an almost-standard frame decked out with a distinctive cut-down dualseat, GPz1100 tank and headlamp fairing and 30in flat bars bent the way Eddie wanted. Nothing was spared in the handling and stopping departments, though. Magnesium wheels, lengthened fork stanchions with stock sliders, massive 313mm iron brake discs on mag carriers gripped by four-piston calipers machined from solid chunks of metal and originally intended for KR 500 GP bikes. Lawson had a selection of swingarms of varying lengths for different tracks and used Works Performance remote reservoir gas shocks made for Maico motocrossers.

By anyone else's standards the thing was a 170mph monster. It weighed a hefty 420lb-plus and unloaded around 150bhp when the carbs' flat slides were pulled up tight. It bucked and jumped in bumpy turns but stomped on the opposition and did wonders for sales of big-bore Kawasakis and green paint.

Hardly surprising that Big K should want to capitalise on Eddie's success. First they put out a copy for racers who could convince their local dealer they could handle one. It was pretty damn expensive and very Limited Edition. Road riders were offered a Z1000) with stepped seat, GPz tank, Lawson bars, a Kerker 4-1 zorst and Showa copies of the Works Performance shockers. Only other change from a stock J was an extra 1.5° of steering rake to steady things up in fast bends.

Kawasaki hung back when it came to Europe. Presumably they could have sent over some of the US Eddie Reps, as Honda did with the Aspencade. Would've been a trifle expensive , of course, and anyway, who the hell is Eddie Lawson? In the end they diluted the concept one more time and put out the Euro Z1000R2. With the Superbike styling and gold shox; without the Kerker pipe and steering changes. And in the case of dear old Blightly, without the green paint. It's tempting to believe the white colour scheme was decided on while Big K was suffering from a fit of pique after Eddie's defection to Yamaha but maybe they just felt a bike with the R2's looks could stand up for itself . . . German punters got green ones, though, heh, heh, heh.

Compared to the Uni Trak GPzllOO and 750 which flank it in Kawasaki's range, the R2 is Big K muscle at its most traditional. It's big, chunky and fairly basically-equipped by today's gizmoid standards. It's heart is the venerable 998cc dohc Z1 motor with slightly revised valve timing to give a claimed 104bhp compared to the J's 102 horses. The high gloss black finish on the cases and barrels and crinkle paint on the camboxes is superb but, as with the 750cc four motors, it isn't long before it gets splattered by dusty oil emanating from a slight but persistent weep at the head/barrel joint.

That's about the only criticism I had of the motor. After 10 years it's still one of the nicest fours around, with smooth, effortless power from the ground up and a late rush from around six grand to the 9000rpm redline. Despite the effective mufflers, it emits a pleasant gravelly growl with little gear or chain whine. The mill is fully rubber mounted but some vibration gets through to the handlebar ends and footpegs, especially around 4500-5000rpm, though it doesn't deaden fingers or blur the big mirrors at the kind of speeds when you need them most — if you know what I mean.

First thing I did on the R was load it up with tankbag, panniers and pillion for a 300-mile round trip to MAG's tenth anniversary concert in Somerset. For a racy looker it's pretty good as a long-haul hack. The stepped seat is broad and comfortably padded with a generous allowance for passengers. They also get a well-placed grabrail so you don't have to worry about losing the love of your life when going for it.

This wasn't a problem on the Somerset trip 'cos the wife's old-style AGV helmet lifted at speeds over 80mph and tried to pull her head off so we settled for a gentle 70mph cruise. Even so, the Kawasaki covered ground rapidly with little need for heavy revving thanks to its ample spread of torque. A fill-up at Chard showed the bike to be doing about 45mpg: the 4.7gal fuel tank giving around 140 miles before going on to reserve. A fuel gauge nestles between speedo (mechanical) and tacho (electronic) and proved to be much more accurate than Kawasaki's digital version. Nor is there an annoying red fuel warning light which comes on miles before reserve is reached and flashes insistently until you give up and stop for gas 50 miles early.

As reported in the August ish, the rally was a brilliant piece of organisation; everyone having a free and easy time without anything getting out of control. The clean white test bike looked a bit prissy among the Brits, chops and ratty Jap fours crowded on the site but it didn't stick out as much as one MAG-man's Aspencade . . .

Day after the rally I was due to ride up to Heysham to catch the loM ferry for the annual festival of rain and racing known as TT week. Bike adman Sandy Murdoch was going at the same time on his CB900F2B c/w Koni shocks and Kerker zorst (funny, I thought the Kawasaki was supposed to have that) and we left together on a warm sunny evening. Once again, the R was well loaded with soft luggage but this time there was no pillion. Even so, it sounded a good idea to jack up the suspension in preparation for the upcoming A roads blast to Brum and the M6.

Up front, the R's forks wear unlinked air caps, which are a pain. In went about 8psi, courtesy of an S&W minipump. When are the Japs going to start putting pumps into the toolkits of bikes they're so keen to equip with air suspension? Down back, the Showa shocks feature threaded adjusters for spring preload setting. The adjuster ring and locking ring are above the spring and easy to get at, although the two rings tended to jam together so tightly that the alloy C spanners provided only just got them apart. You can alter preload by turning the shock springs but evening up both shocks means using a ruler or care fully counting exposed threads. I suppose it's a little better than old-fashioned ratchet adjustment — and preferable to air springing — but I can't help thinking the system's more suited to monoshocks. The springs are quite firm so I wound on about V3preload and set the damping adjusters to the second of their four settings. Showa evidently intended the shocks to mount with the reservoirs at the bottom because the damping click rings at the opposite end are almost hidden behind the mufflers with their numbers facing downwards. Good thing I had a mirror in mv handbag, oops.

What should've followed was two people almost old enough to know better storming up the A41 at 110mph, recklessly charging the fast bends and occasional roundabouts. It wasn't like that at all, oh no. Murdoch sauntered over at the first fuel stop, on the M6, looking obnoxiously fresh and inquired whether my rather shagged appearance had anything to do with the R's behaviour. Yas-suh, him big Kawasaki, him big handful on de twists wid dem bumps in dem.

Initially, the sheer stomp of the Kawa had it over Sandy's Honda on the straightish leg up to Bicester but on the curving, hilly route  from there to the motorway it was obvious that the only reason he was behind the R was because he wanted to be. At anything over 70 the Kawa slewed and wobbled through turns in a fashion most alarming. By the time we reached Warwick I was crouched over the tank, elbows locked, knees gripping the tank, just to keep up an average about 20mph slower than Sandy could've managed on his Far 2 Big. Everything seemed to upset the R: wind, bumps, camber. It was fine on straights but a handful everywhere else. Playing with springing and damping helped a little — but nowhere near enough to make the R's 5301b completely predictable.

I was pretty glad to reach the motorway — until Mudrock wound up to 110mph, unconcernedly sitting behind the Honda's fairing. The CPz handlebar fairing gives very little protection at speed; wind hitting your arms, upper thorax and head, leading to screaming shoulder, neck and finger muscles. I was saved after 50 miles because we had to stop before my throwovers were blown off. Moving them forward to the front of the seat where I could sit on them also improved the ongoing wobble situation presumably because their weight was closer to the bike's centre of gravity.

The Island was afflicted by a rare climatic phenomenon known as warm, sunny weather this year. . . just right for doingthe Mountain a few times. Sans luggage, the R's wobbling was less pronounced but it must've looked pretty entertaining going through the Creg shimmying like a honky in a jive marathon. Hell, compared to Roland Brown's XJ650, which was behaving like an electrified rabbit 'cos he rode it into a wall the day I arrived, the R was almost stable.

One thing which was never in doubt was braking. The twin 10in front discs were almost capable of standing the Kawa on its nose and the rear disc functioned undramatically — as a good rear anchor should. They're excellent in the wet, too. The sintered pads won't lag and the lever action is always progressive and sensitive however much water's spraying around.

If the R's cornering clearance was better, the pads would've had an easier life on the Island. The sidestand touches down far too earlv in left handers and it's not difficult to deck the pipes on rights. Kawasaki mount the footrests higher and more rearward than on the J to make the most of the rest of the (surprisingly comfortable) superbike racer riding position. Trouble is they hit tarmac after more solid bits so there's no warning before a heavy kerchung kicks the whole plot across the carriageway. Moral? Don't hustle the Not The Eddie Lawson Replica into a corner unless you know more for sure it doesn't tighten up.

Aside from its performance and handling, the rest of the Z1000R is unremarkable. That doesn't mean it's all a bit naff: just that all the bits with a job to do do them adequately. The rectangular halogen headlamp floods the road with light, the clocks are well lit, the dogleg levers are fine if you've got small hands, clutch and throttle action is light and smooth and the switchgear — though bigger than necessary — is easy to operate.

Cearchange action is heavy and stiff until the motor's thoroughly warmed up, however, and there's the usual sidestand engine cutout to prevent you riding off with the sidestand down. No complaints about the Jap Dunlop tyres, which gripped tenaciously in the dry and as well as could be expected in the wet. I wouldn't expect to see much more than 3000 miles' wear out of the rear cover but that's the kind of expense anyone contemplating a 5001b, 100 horsepower litrebike has to put up with.

In other words the Z1000R is yer actual UJM. A big reliable, heavy, well-made multi whose motor is just that bit faster than the chassis. If it wasn't for the enormous advances the Japanese have made in frame and suspension performance in recent years, the R would be a sure-fire hot seller for big K but right now in 1983 it's got to compete not only with the Honda VF750Fs and Suzuki CSXs of this world, but Kawasaki's own Uni Trak CPz750 (better handling) and GPz1100 (more stomp and better handling). Main thing the R has going for it is price: £2649 list with up to three hundred notes off from discounters.

Which leaves the questions of whether we liked it and, uh, why does Crasher Brown appear to be falling off in that pic? Well, he was in truth about to part company with the Kawa after experiencing a severe ongoing lack of ground clearance situation. Even with shocks and forks as hard as they'd go, the pipes were grounding heavily on both sides and just as lensman Burnicle was about to signal enough' the front tyre lifted. To add insult to injury, some local self-help merchant waltzed away with the sheared-off fuel tank before we could load the wreckage into a pickup for a shamefaced return to Slough. If anyone knows of a vacancy in something quiet like mushroom farming or glass blowing, let me know will ya?

As for liking the R, I have to admit I did end up with a sneaking affection for it. It looks like a big, ballsy, litrebike and it certainly behaves like one. There are plenty of fast mid-dlweights around if you want something lighter and less demanding, while the R makes you work pretty damn hard to get the most out of its 130mph potential. At the moment, big Jap sporting hardware splits between old-style muscle like the R and smoother, tricker, easier-to-ride stuff like the new 16-in front wheel, monoshock 750s. In the end it boils down to your own taste in styling and your own assessment of how big your balls are, I

Source Bike 1983