Yamaha XT 350

 Let's get one thing straight. Even though the first bike I tested pulled a full-on Chernobyl, I liked the XT. So, we'll deal with the unpleasantries first and then move into the meat of the test. Consider it a bad news first type of situation, if you will, so we can finish on a happy note.

Let's set the scene. It was the middle of a dark and stormy night, cold, black and miserable. There I was, tooling along at 70 miles per hour on the Grapevine (I-5 north of Bakersfield). XT350 number one decides to give in to the dark side of the Force and pull a Mr. Hyde on me. What does this hideous transformation look like? Well, it's dark, so all I know is the bike lost power dramatically. Hmmmmm, I think to myself, this is not good (a keen deduction). I pull in the clutch to see if the motor will die or idle. It dies.

Ordinarily, this wouldn't be a big deal, but since there isn't a proper electrical system on this bike, there is a problem; the headlight turns off when the motor stops turning. Now, coasting along a freeway in the black of night at 70 mph isn't a problem if one's eyes are adjusted. Mine weren't. I let out the clutch again to get the mortally wounded motor spinning again so I could light the way and pull over to the shoulder. With the aid of the ambient light from the odd passing car, I see the Yamaha motor smoking. Mr. Hyde has made his ugly appearance.

The expired bike's odometer reads 800 miles. This is well past the 600 miles recommended for proper break in, even if I haven't paid a lick of attention to the procedure. On this day, though I've already come 300 miles, I've got another hundred or so to go before I'm home. I survey the countryside surrounding me and determine my exact location. There is a distinct lack of landmarks, absolutely none whatsoever. There is nothing but empty space. I spend the next forty-five minutes trying to flag cars down out of the night, praying for a kindly driver with a cell phone to come to my rescue. But alas, I am a scary biker and dressed the part. It doesn't happen. I start walking hoping to find a highway call-box somewhere in the murky gloom. Half a mile away from my bike I look back to see a vehicle pulled to the shoulder next to the bike.

It turns out to be a big ole' extend-a-cab Ford F-250 pickup truck. The guy behind the wheel tells me he usually doesn't pull over to help people, but since he saw me walking, then saw my bike, and he is a fellow rider (who else would stop?), he thought he'd break this habit and offer a hand. He asks me if I'm headed anywhere near Redondo Beach. As a matter of fact, I live within 10 miles of the place. Perfect, we load up the bike (he even has tie downs!) and off we go, on a 100 mile jaunt. He drops me at my pad, bike and all. I wish getting home after every breakdown could be so easy.

Now, I needed to break the news to Yamaha: Their machine was dead. It perished in my hands. Yamaha, bless their souls, took the bike back and swapped it for a new one for the sake of this story. Subsequent questioning about the status of the Mr. Hyde XT revealed that the bike had suffered an oil pump failure. An oil light would be nice. That was the bad news. Yamaha has made this bike for more than a decade and they tell me they had never heard of this kind of failure. In fact, when I first told them the motor had let go, they were rather shocked. The XT350 motor has a reputation for being bulletproof. Source Motorcycle.com