Used Bike Guide's review archive - KAWASAKI

Used Motorcycle Guide: Issue 132: Sample Only : To read the FULL Article Order on-line

It just had to go
Andrew Rowe’s Kawasaki GPX600R fell down on reliability

Reviews of the Kawasaki GPX600R generally agree that the bike is fast, cheap and totally reliable. However, my ownership experience was slightly different…
I got my full motorbike licence in March 2000 and, following the instructor’s advice, decided to buy a used bike. I wanted something that was insurance-friendly, and cheap enough so that I wouldn’t be too upset if I dropped it.
After reading the reviews in UMG, I decided to buy one of the mid range 500s offered by Honda, Kawasaki or Suzuki (CB500, GPZ500 or GS500). After looking at a few bikes, it seemed that the Hondas were too expensive and the GS500s too rusty, so I chose the GPZ.
I visited a couple of dealers, who asked: “Why do you want a GPZ500, when you can have a GPX600 for the same money?” To which I replied: “What’s a GPX?” By pure coincidence (!) both places had a GPX in stock, but no GPZs…
Research of the figures in UMG revealed that the GPX will reach 140mph, while the GPZ500 does only 125mph. An insurance quote put the GPX at £40 extra a year, so that was settled - I would buy a GPX.
I visited a few more dealers who had a GPX or two in stock, but most were in naff colours like white/blue or red/grey. Living in Oxford, but coming from Wales, I knew that bikes were cheaperback home, so I visited my friendly local dealer back in my home town. As luck would have it, he had a GPX in stock - an ’89 Italian import, finished in sexy black/grey. Both the front tyre and battery were flat and it was a bit dusty, but it really looked the part. I agreed to come back later to hear it running.
I hadn’t noticed the twin Ixil exhausts earlier, but when the GPX was started, the sweet sounding engine and evil sounding exhausts secured the sale. A test drive was not an option. I paid £1500 for the Kwacker, with a new MoT, service, rear tyre and 12-month guarantee. I asked what was covered by the guarantee and was told: If it goes wrong, bring it back.
A week later I returned to collect my new steed. The dealer had thoughtfully drained the fuel tank and told me to go straight to a petrol station, after warning me that the bike was, “fast as f*ck, so be careful.” Maybe the man did have a conscience?
I was immediately impressed by the power and pedestrian-scaring noise of the exhausts. The new rear tyre provided a few brown trouser moments in the first few miles, but other than that I was well chuffed.
The bike went really well for the first month and other than the fuel gauge not working (I didn’t bother fixing it), everything was fine. It was comfortable and took the 100-mile Wales-Oxford motorway trip in its stride. I hadn’t got used to the Km/h speedo and it turned out I was probably doing about 90 all the way. The speedo was converted to mph using an M&P GPZ600 sticker that was cut to fit.
One sunny evening I was inadvertently introduced to my fellow Oxford bikers by running out of petrol in front of Harley’s Cafe (bloody fuel gauge!) where they meet on summer nights. Luckily, one of the blokes gave me a lift to the nearest petrol station on his Gold Wing and I was back on the road. But not for long…
A couple of weeks later, I was returning to Oxford from Wales when I heard a squeaking noise coming from the front of the bike. Being in open countryside between Swindon and Oxford at 10pm in the dark, I decided that there was nothing I could do but ignore it and carry on.
Ten miles later I realised that something must be going wrong when I had a queue of cars behind me (that’s not supposed to happen on a bike is it?) Suddenly, a small exploding noise came from the front end and I could no longer steer. Thinking I’d had a blow out, I coasted to a halt and fumbled in the dark to check the damage. The front tyre was fine and, as I couldn’t see a thing, I decided to ride it a few miles down the road to civilisation. I wobbled down the road at walking pace, also noticing that my speedo no longer worked.
I pulled into the first lay-by with street lights and noticed that not only had my speedo cable come off, but also there was also no speedo drive unit to put it in. At this stage I was only three miles from home and decided to carry on going, though I was slightly worried about passing Thames Valley Police HQ. I must’ve looked like a drink driver; riding all over the road at walking pace! After what seemed like hours, I made it back home.

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