Suzuki GSX 750F Katana

Any magazine writer knows that he has at his disposal many different types of introduction to select as the story dictates. Popular among writers "of a certain age" who've been writing about a subject for a number of years is what we may call the "Boring Old Bastard" style. When you spot this one it usually means that the scribe concerned is about to give you a lightweight history lesson on something or another. It's easy to pick his type of story out because it nearly always starts with something like, "I remember. . ."

(Cut to scene of droves of PB readers heading for the pub to listen to Frank 50, bald, tedious, talking about his 1760 Sunbeam as a less boring alternative; you know, the one that went "twice round the world on a thimbleful of petrol blah blah").

I remember 1978 - the summer in particular.

It was a bad time.

My girlfriend ran off with my best mate. I got some satisfaction by administering cosmetic surgery to his 500 Triumph with the largest hammer I could find. It was not perfect. As I revelled in the rapidly altering shape of his petrol tank I could not help thinking that he was probably having far more fun than I was he being engaged at that point in physical communion with my ex. I mean, which would you rather be doing? Then I had a row with the boss of the sheet metalwork business where I earnt my crust welding. He owned the company so it was me who won the P45 and last place on the grid outside the benefit office that very same afternoon. It got worse.

Some months before my 400 four Honda wasn't looking where it was going and tripped over at 60mph. I thoughtfully broke its fall by diving face first to the floor at the point of impact. My generosity of spirit was repaid by being pressed lovingly into the tarmac by the full weight of the bike as we slid together down the road. If wealth had been measured by the amount of skin a person had on his body, I would have been pretty poor at that time.

On my recovery, I repaired the bike so it was pristine again.

The day after I won the D.C.M. (Don't Come Monday) I fell off it again, smashed the headlight, clocks, indicators, twisted the bottom fork yoke, dented the tank.

Life was bad. I toyed with the idea of hammering my winkie flat on an anvil and trying to get a job as beaver in whatever country it is that beavers come from.

Sanity prevailed. I opted for a major corrective dose of motorcycling adrenalin. The Honda was disposed of to a sharp chap who knew the power of £300 in fivers over a depressive who knew his only solution was something bigger, newer, flasher and faster.

And here is where this story really begins. I went out and bought a six month old Suzuki GS750. They had come out later the year before. Suzuki's first attempt at a 750 across the frame four-stroke four was a belter. They were last into the shops with such a device and they had learnt well from watching the other bike makers. It was top dog. It was quick. By the standards of the day, it had excellent handling. It braked well too unless it was raining in which case a prayer to Whoever

It Is Up There would have stopped you quicker.

It was a revelation. Motorcycle Mechanics (who?) speed tested their test model at 126mph. Flat on the tank and left hand gripping the top of the fork leg just like Cal Rayborn (who??) I could just get the speedometer to show 132 miles an hour. It was a bit twitchy running flat out. Chassis technology was still pretty crude ten years ago and the tyres had nothing like the stability of modern rubberware. But you could lay it on the footpegs in the turns and it stayed pretty well put I seem to recall it did about thirty five miles to the gallon.

So there I was on a bank holiday Monday in the Dartford tunnel. I was beginning to get frustrated  surrounded by hordes of the tin-clad tribesmen who every year make bank holiday visits of worship to watery places with their awful wives sporting Dallas hairdos and C & A frocks. The back seats are invariably packed with at least two point four kids.

They know what it's going to be like but they come every year to get stuck in the same traffic jams and experience the same frustrations and family discord — weird.

Trickling through the tunnel I was thinking about my old GS750 and how much times had changed. Out on the M25 (did you know they're going to change it into a pay and display car park next year) once the traffic thinned I lazily wound on the power in top and effortlessly the speedo climbed through to an indication some 20 miles a hour faster than the old GS went flat out. Nothing dramatic there. My chest was nowhere near the tank and I had only to lean forward a tiny bit to get full protection from the slipstream. There was just a trace of nervousness in the steering but nothing that would allow itself to be provoked into a stimulating shake. The old GS, if you were in the mood, could be easily induced to wobble like a bastard.

OK, the historical perspective closes here. It was an interesting comparison — Suzuki's first 750 four of some 11 years ago against the latest of the line.

The GSX750F is the cooking model, the less glamorous companion of the decidedly slick and macho GSX-R750J; no alloy frame, no radically low clip-ons or high footrests and an allegedly detuned version of the same oil cooled engine that first saw the light of day in 1986.

My first reaction when the bike arrived was, "What an ugly brute". I nipped out to the next village to pick up my pension and found the motor fussy and annoying. Below about 3,000 rpm it doesn't show much willing. It's a bit better than the "R" version up to 7,000. It still has an unmistakable hole between 5,000 and 7,000 which is tedious unless you accelerate hard through it but it's not as bad. From 7,000 it flies like a modern 750 should, getting stronger until its hits about 10,500 where you can feel the power start to drop off. Ten and a half was the best gearchange spot for maximum hard charging. It needs all of its six gears unlike the Honda VFR or the Yamaha FZ which could easily get away with five were it not for the dictates of fashion and the demands of production based racing

The valve timing on the GSX is less radical than on the"R". The inlet tracts are longer too and careful attention has been paid to the exhaust system configuration in order to boost mid-range power as much as possible. It's still nothing like as flexible as either the Yamaha or the Honda and maybe just a touch better than the Kawasaki GPX. It's liveable with after a time but its general fussiness in heavy London traffic pissed me off more than a little at times when my main preoccupation was to transport me and my girlfriend safely (neither of us was wearing too much) through the hot sunshine to our weekly meeting of the OAP Alcoholics Glee Club.

The redline is set at 12,500 rpm which jogged another memory. The girlfriend who an off with the Triumph owner was a psychiatric nurse. Many acquaintances of the time said that this made her perfectly qualified to go out with me (I didn't mind the medication but I suspect she enjoyed the cold baths more than I did). Fed up with unreliable buses she bought the all new CB125T Honda that had just come out. I was awestruck to realise that it revved to 12,500 rpm which was a hell of a lot even for a 125 twin with light pistons, con-rods and crank. It's an impressive place to have the redline on a 750 and it will go to 13,000 rpm before the limiter cuts in. In practice though, there's not a lot of point in going to the red unless you're just in one of those moods where you want to dosh out a dose of engine abuse.

It was only moderately thirsty, recording an average for the whole test of just over 45mpg with a worst figure of 34 or so. In theory this gives you a range of somewhere near 200 miles from the 20 litre capacity of the fuel tank. In practise, however, it would run onto reserve after 120 miles and I only trusted reserve for another 20 miles. It's no better or worse than its competitors in this respect and the reserve tap sited on the left hand side of the bodywork is mercifully easy to manipulate while on the move.

The drilled twin discs up front work exceptionally well under the bite of the four piston calipers. They are a fully floating design which seems a touch over the top on a cooking road bike. The advantages of full floating discs are not much use on the road in my opinion. They do self-align in use to minimise any unwanted reactive forces being fed into the front suspension and the physical gap between the discs and their carriers are a considerable aid to keeping the rotors cool. I doubt if you'll ever regularly ride the GSX hard enough on the road to make use of these features. If you do you would be well advised to take up proddie racing before you end up being measured for one of those nice pine boxes with the pretty brass handles.

There's a bit of adjustment to play with in the suspension. The forks offer three rebound damping settings while at the back you get a choice of seven different spring preloads and, again, three rebound options.

I rarely fiddle with the suspension on test bikes. They usually arrive with everything set somewhere in the middle of the possible range of adjustment and they usually work damn well. Such was not the case with this Suzook, however. It jittered at the front and while it was not in any sense alarming, the back end felt vague and floppy both flat out in straight lines and laid over in gentle but fast curves.

The forks were easy to adjust with small knobs at the top of each leg and clearly marked datum points. The bike arrived set on "1". '•

I tried "3" and finally settled for "2" after I'd finished playing around with the rear end.

It's not so easy at the rear end. The rebound is controlled by a sliding knob under the seat which is simple enough to get at. Adjusting the stepped preload collar on the Full Floater suspension unit isn't so great. You can get at it from the lefthand side when the bike is on its centrestand (yes, it's actually got one) if you lie down to the job. The "C" spanner supplied in the toolkit is not that great however and you need to exert a lot of pressure in a restricted space to shift the collar. If the bike were mine I'd get a better tool and I'd also use Copaslip or similar on the collar as its position makes it a prime candidate for rust and seizure.

The handling is acceptable but not brilliant. It's slow to turn into corners, much more so than the "R" version. It was not a machine that inspired scratching although it was always adequate and always predictable.

Original equipment Metzelers front and rear seemed to suit and the whole plot is easy to control in the wet.

The riding position is comfortable and conservative. I wouldn't thank you for an "R" in the London traffic unless I had a particular need to strengthen my wrists but the plain old GSX is dead comfortable and easy to thread through the seams of cars, lorries and buses.

The handlebars are quite high and the seat very comfortable. The fairing looks as if it wouldn't do much to keep the wind off but you only need to crouch a small amount to get full protection. It is also very comfortable on long journeys.

But the news for a regular pillion is decidedly gloomy. The passenger perch has a pronounced forward slope and this pair of hands kept appearing on the back of the fuel tank as my guest sought to prevent herself smacking into me every time I braked (it doesn't work that way round, apparently). She found the grab rail too uncomfortable to hang onto to make regular use of it and the footrests were too high for her long legs (not to mention her slender ankles, firm thighs. . . 'scuse me. Back in a minute).

The bodywork I did not manage to like. I thought it was ugly when it arrived and closer acquaintance did nothing to alter this. I seemed to be largely alone in this opinion but as most of my friends are visual cripples, I'll settle for saying that they were wrong.

The panels all fit well but the full enclosure means that you have to remove a circular panel to get at the oil filler orifice. Marvic style three spoke wheels look good. Overall the styling reminds me quite a lot of the still radical Katana shapes but considerably retuned.

The price does a lot to recommend the GSX. At £3,999 it is noticeably cheaper than the Honda VFR and a bit less than the FZ Yam. Against that it's all a bit too clinical for my tastes and a bit too unremarkable compared with the grunt of the Yamaha, the sophistication and style of the Honda and even the questionable nerves of the Kawasaki GPX.

It's something like trying to remember when you last ate a McDonalds hamburger — you know it didn't do you any harm, you know it satisfied your hunger temporarily in a basic fashion but quite where you were and how long ago it was escapes you completely. Could have been last month, could have been last year, could have been San Francisco, Croydon or Newcastle. I prefer my food and my motorcycles to be a bit more memorable than that.

Jim Lindsay