Naked
ones present exactly 18 years after the legendary Z 1. Kawasaki
Zephyr 750 and the smaller sister Zephyr 550. The specialized
public is itself united: No other mark understood it similarly
well to connect classical optics time-fairly with modern technology
and to create again a new "old" motorcycle
Kawasaki goes consistently classical,
air-cooled engine with correct cooling fins, which was derived
directly from the old aggregates of the eighties-seventies.
Kawasaki engineers have beside
the traditionally sporty rail of the company the classically
oriented. Here the tradition of the uncovered Big Bikes is
continued by the impact of a Z 1, even if you the direct counterpart
in the present may still be missing - the 1100 Zephyr takes
time still scarcely.
First one:
In
the autumn 1990 a fresh wind whistled by the halls of the
IFMA in Koln. With 550 and 750 cm³ equivalent two Zephyr
models of Kawasaki wind face.
50.000. km.
The
needle bearings worked after 50,000 kilometres still perfectly
on the Sporty-classical Zephyr 750. Also the machine has rains,
snow and thawing salt at metal parts and frameworks above
average!!.
Buy a bike:
Sometimes, things take on a momentum of their
own. A mate working in Rome phoned up and demanded I buy him
a newish Kawasaki 1100 Zephyr and ride it down to him. It
was February at the time and I decided he hadn't a chance
in hell of my granting such a request. However, he said he'd
let me off a debt I owed him and would locate a nice Ducati
vee twin that I could buy to sell at a profit in the UK.
Throw in a distinct lack of DR work in the UK and a strong
case of wanderlust (not to mention lust for Italian frails),
and it only took me a few minutes to acquiesce, although I
demurred just long enough to have free board and as much wine
as I could drink thrown in.
The biggest Zephyr hadn't been around long enough to be in
great abundance but there were a couple in MCN at what seemed
very low prices. The first one I saw, I bought. No point pissing
around when a good 'un falls right into your lap - 7000 miles
and less than six months old.
The ride home was such fun that I was tempted to keep it for
myself. Great gobs of torque that squirmed the back wheel
and pushed the massive beast forward so wildly it left my
stomach way behind. A couple of times I screamed with the
joy of the acceleration and turned up home with a disgustingly
large grin. However, reality closed in when I realised there
was no way I could raise the cash.
For a week I hurled the 1100 around the English countryside
despite frozen feet and hands, or a groin full of water from
the occasional fierce rainstorms. The more I rode the bike
the more impressed I became. Despite its huge weight, the
relative tautness of its frame and suspension stopped it from
indulging in the massive weaves and wobbles so beloved of
earlier Kawasaki fours.
Even when one of the old Z1000s have been modified with better
shocks, stiffer forks and all the rest of it, I doubt that
it would be able to match the combination of stability and
comfort with which the big Z is blessed.
Mind you, with its most crazed acceleration and 140mph top
speed it's not a bike that I would recommend a 125 graduate
leaps on to. Ultimately, there is too much mass for the inexperienced
to control when putting down excessive amounts of the power.
Even someone used to the older fours could get caught out
my the way the back wheel would twitch off line if you were
silly with the throttle in the lower gears in tight corners.
The 1100 isn't the kind of bike that can be saved with a quick
dab down of the boot; more likely to break a leg than stop
the machine falling over.
I never actually came off as I was always aware that it wasn't
my machine and I doubted if my friend would have appreciated
delivery in the form of a crate full of busted parts. With
this in mind, I headed for the Continent, both the UK and
France awash with enough water to convince me that this lark
about global warming was a total myth. Both the Kawa and myself
were soaked before we hit the ferry, my wrecked footwear deciding
to fall apart just as I was trying to slip the Zephyr into
an ever so narrow gap in the ferry hold. Only some prompt
action by one of the sailors saved the Kawa taking out a whole
line of pristine bikes.
My spare footwear was ideal for the disco but once on the
road in France proceeded to soak up masses of water in a record
lack of time. I cursed all the way to Paris where I had a
free bed for the night, but made the journey in record time,
rather surprised at the high speed stability of the 1100 (on
Metz's) and my own strength at being able to hold on with
more than the ton on the clock for most of the time.
Just as we neared the outskirts of Paris the engine started
cutting on to three cylinders intermittently. I needed some
fuel, anyway (about 30mpg!), so pulled over and emptied a
can of WD40 over the top end, which worked okay. This never
recurred, and it should be borne in mind that the rain was
so fierce that when I got to Paris my underpants were absolutely
sodden with water despite two layers of waterproofs and I
had to throw my shoes away! I borrowed some boots off my friend.
Early the next morning the sun was shining brightly, which
persuaded me of the rightness of doing the 500 miles to Milan
in one shot. About 50 miles into the journey the rain fell
again, but I decided no way I was going to back off, keeping
the speedo on 110 to 120mph for most of the time.
I shot past one cop car like it was standing still, the huge
plume of spray off the back wheel hopefully obscuring my numberplate.
Full throttle, down on the tank madness followed, with the
speedo hitting a doubtless inaccurate 150mph at one point.
The vibes were fierce and I could see damn all in the mirrors.
The back end waltzed a little and the bars felt kind of loose
in my hands.
I thanked heaven for the powerful discs, hauling ass and getting
off the motorway in one hell of a dangerous manoeuvre that
had the cagers playing interesting tunes on their horns. Ended
up in Macon at a hotel where the proprietor winked when I
asked if I could stash the bike round back.
Took another two days of hard riding to get down to Rome.
The Zephyr ran tirelessly flat out most of the way, apart
from the poor fuel, which worked out at 33mpg, and finishing
off the rear Metz, I could find little to complain about.
These big fours have come a hell of a long way since the seventies.
I was less than amused to find that the promised vee-twin
was a rat 600 Pantah. It felt pathetic after the brutal Kawasaki,
but my so-called mate was quick to point out that it only
cost a couple of hundred quid and would sell easily in the
UK. The ride home is for another, not so happy story.
Inside
articles
and some reviews. You can contribute your own articles
or advise, anything conserning the Kawasaki Zephyr motorcycles.
For you and me and all the rest of the world.
Photos:
Some
photos of my ZR1100/Zephyr. Learn all
about how it started and where it's going and
the performance
of the ZR1100/Zephyr. New-ones coming soon.
The ZR 1100 & Zephyr.
Simply the BEST
It's all over folks. The ZR1100
& Zephyr
belong to us!
Top
|
