The Kawasaki Z750's less of a workhorse these days, relieved of commuting duties as Dave opts for the warmth of the train. Weekend blasts through the Sussex countryside have become a ritualistic release, but is he disturbing the peace?
We had the first incarnation of the Kawasaki Z750 as a long term test bike way back in the mists of time...OK, it was 2005 and the rider was Dave Bradford.
8 November 2005
The sad truth is, winter has arrived, it’s cold, and I’m not riding the bike very much. Travelling by train has its dull moments but it’s warm and dry and, except on those rare sunny moments, I can’t pretend I’d rather be braving it out on two wheels. Although I don’t miss the boring 50-mile commute, I’m forever yearning to go for a quick thrash. Perhaps it’s my imagination, but I’m sure I ride differently now that I’m not riding as much. Every moment on the bike has to be savoured, and that means riding with more commitment, more focus. I’m not talking about unnecessary risk-taking or pointless aggression, just enjoying the full sensory assault of spirited road riding. It’s not about A-to-B practicality anymore; it’s about appreciating how the Z750 responds, lifting the front under power, welcoming the unforgiving kicks from the firm rear shock, relishing the rude exhaust yowl, and absorbing all the many intangible delights.
Does this new, impassioned riding style make me a less considerate road user? I really hope not, but something happened at the weekend that did beg the question. I’d accelerated hard uphill along a safe stretch of country lane, shutting off long before I reached the crest. As I neared the top, an old man came into view, pushing a wheelbarrow across the road. I’d already slowed down and barely had to brake at all, but he stopped on the road, glared at me, and shook his head disapprovingly. I can only assume he’d heard the exhaust noise as I’d accelerated and assumed I was riding irresponsibly. Either that, or he just disliked the noise. I’m not an antagonist by nature and I don’t like upsetting people, but had I done anything wrong? The Remus stubby end-can is fairly loud, and I’m forced to accept that the sound of an enthusiastically ridden bike doesn’t prickle the hairs on everyone’s neck. So a new exhaust is on the way.
No, I’m not going all PC and resorting to a road-legal can. On the contrary, I’m going the whole hog with a full Akrapovic system. They tell me the Slovenian pipes are fairly muted compared to other race systems. If the new zorst quietens the Zed a little, that’s fine with me. If not, I know I’m going to love it anyway – and sod the miserable head-shakers!
6 October
I’ve only gone and done it. I’ve left the bike at home and come to work on the train. I thought I could make it until the end of the month but I’ve given in, quit, waved the white flag. The huge grey swirl on the weather map looked depressing, and when the weather girl said the words “squally showers” it was just too much to bear.
Yesterday’s ride home provided the first taste of really bad weather so far this year, reminding me about the reality of winter riding. I thought I was well-prepared, donning a zip-together textile suit, ‘waterproof’ boots and ‘waterproof’ gloves, but it just wasn’t enough. The gloves had pointlessly thick cuffs, so I couldn’t tuck them in underneath my sleeves. That meant water poured down the sleeves into the gloves, soaking my hands – and wet hands are cold hands. Next, I felt a freezing trickle of water on my midriff and the sensation of creeping wetness gradually spread across my stomach. Only when I got home did I realise the boots had leaked too. It turns out the jacket and trousers had, independently, done their job, but water had pissed in through the connecting zip. One hot shower and full change of clothes later, and I’d narrowly averted hypothermia.
So, even though it’s going to cost a fortune and involve sitting inactive for 50 minutes twice a day, I’m happy to take the train until spring arrives. Does that make me a spineless weakling, a fair-weather johnny? Seriously, what do you think? When I had a shorter commute, I braved out several winters, but I can’t say I ever really enjoyed them. The Z750 is my only means of transport, so it’ll still get frequent use, but most of my riding will be restricted to weekends. Let’s hope we get plenty of winter sunshine. In the meantime, I’ll try and recall memories of my last track-day, a month ago at Brands Hatch. It was roasting hot and, by the end of the day, I was feeling elated with my progress. I was getting smoother and faster, and feeling in control despite an earlier ‘moment’ at Paddock Hill.
The Z750 might not be the fastest bike out there, but it’s really easy to get on with. I spent one session riding an 2004 ZX-6R and didn’t feel nearly as confident. Although the ZX had more power and far better brakes, it seemed to require more confidence and more commitment. Having covered 8,000 miles on the Zed, including three track-days, I trust it completely. I have faith in its friendly power delivery, its positive steering and its unremarkable-yet-adequate brakes. Yep, the Z750 and I are a happy couple, and the only thing that can destroy our harmony is this God-awful weather.
23 August
After a couple of weeks riding Jayne’s (Toyne) Suzuki GSR600, it was great to get back on the Z750. It’s not that I don’t like the Suzuki but it feels lacklustre compared to the Zed. The GSR is like that mate who never lets you down but never really makes you laugh either, whereas the Z750 is more akin to the livewire mate who has everyone in stitches every five minutes. You know which one’s more fun to spend time with, right? Since getting it back, I’ve appreciated the Z750 more than ever.
Although I haven’t had time to go on any epic rides or sniff out exciting new roads, I’ve made the most of some familiar stretches of Sussex B-road. There is something almost intoxicating about thrashing the Z750 along pieces of road that I’ve ridden hundreds of times and know intimately well. With familiarity comes confidence and commitment, kept in check only by the awareness that danger always lurks regardless of local knowledge. In the same way that I know every dimple of the road, I also feel completely at one with the Z750. It’s a bike that makes you, the rider, feel totally in charge and does nothing to unsettle that sureness. As a result, I’m getting more and more convinced that you don’t really need any more than about 100bhp to have limitless fun on British roads. Riding a naked bike with modest power is great for so many reasons. For one thing, chavs in quasi-quick cars foolishly imagine they have a chance to outpace you, and you’re always the underdog at track-days. In other words, you’re permanently on to a winner because you’ve got nothing to prove.
So I’m happy with the Z750’s performance as standard, but that doesn’t mean I’d pass up the chance of increasing its power. And that chance came winging its way to the office a couple of weeks ago, in the form of a Power Commander. I’ve since had it fitted and mapped by PDM Racing, and I’m well pleased with the result. Suffice to say, it’s made a considerable difference – I’ll tell the full story in next month’s mag.
14 July
A lot has happened over the past month. I’ve done over 2,000 on the Z750, including daily commuting, a trip to Cornwall, and two track-days. Oh, the joys of summer. But let’s start with the dull bit. Getting to and from the office is a one-hour slog each way. The Zed cruises comfortably at 80mph but I can’t cope any longer with the windblast-induced neck strain at higher speeds or when there’s a headwind, so I’ve ordered a small aftermarket screen from Kawasaki. It took a while to make the decision, partly because I think the bike looks great as standard, and because fitting the screen requires drilling (my DIY handiwork wins awards for ham-fistedness). The Z750’s fuel tank holds 18 litres, which is a decent amount, but I have to fill up every day. I’ve sketchily calculated that my fuel consumption averages about 39mpg. I guess that’s reasonable thirstiness for this type of bike but it’s hardly going to win awards for environmental friendliness
Burning several gallons more fuel, I rode to Snetterton and Cadwell for SuperBike’s track-day double-header. Chucking the Z750 around on track was blindingly good fun. I’d fitted a set of Pirelli Diablos in preparation and, with roasting-hot track temperatures, there seemed no limit to how fast I turn in or accelerate out. OK, so this was my first proper track experience, but however much my speed increased, the Zed just lapped it up. If this bike’s supposed to be a budget roadster, someone forgot to tell its designers.
15 June
I’ve had the Z750 for little over a month and I’ve already clocked up over 2,000 miles. It’s used for my daily commute to and from work, a 100-mile round trip. The route is mainly motorway and dual-carriageway drudgery, which doesn’t really give the Zed chance to excel. Above 80mph, the wind-blast becomes uncomfortable, so I’m tempted to fit an aftermarket screen. I don’t want to disfigure the 750’s pretty little face but it would be nice to have something to tuck my head behind. From the moment of my first ride, I’ve been thoroughly entertained by the Z750. It handles sweetly and slices effortlessly through traffic. The motor is revvy and excitable but also has a healthy dollop of midrange. I’m a devoted fan of sporty naked bikes, and the Z750 is just my cup of tea. Having said that, its brakes could be better. They’re adequate but not as sharp as I’d like. A set of braided hoses is high on my modifications agenda. After that, I hope to smooth out the fuel injection by fitting a Power Commander.
So far, I’ve fitted a tail tidy, LED indicators, smaller number-plate and a Remus PowerCone exhaust. As a result, the back-end looks neater and more aggressive, giving a full view of the 180-section rear tyre. The exhaust didn’t fit brilliantly but it sounds great (and surprisingly loud). Road legal? Are they sure?
What are my plans for the Zed? I’m off on holiday to Newquay next week, and I’m looking forward to the feeling of liberation as I blast past endless caravans on the way. The meandering country roads will make a nice change, too, and it’ll be a good chance to find out how the Z750 fares over distance. Unfortunately, my holiday coincides with SuperBike’s track day at Silverstone, which I’m gutted about missing. I can’t wait to try the Kawasaki on a track, but at least I’ll have time to fit new tyres and get the brakes up to scratch in time for the Snetterton/Cadwell double-header in July.
A lot has happened over the past month. I’ve done over 2,000 on the Z750, including daily commuting, a trip to Cornwall, and two track-days. Oh, the joys of summer. But let’s start with the dull bit. Getting to and from the office is a one-hour slog each way. The Zed cruises comfortably at 80mph but I can’t cope any longer with the windblast-induced neck strain at higher speeds or when there’s a headwind, so I’ve ordered a small aftermarket screen from Kawasaki. It took a while to make the decision, partly because I think the bike looks great as standard, and because fitting the screen requires drilling (my DIY handiwork wins awards for ham-fistedness).
The Z750’s fuel tank holds 18 litres, which is a decent amount, but I have to fill up every day. I’ve sketchily calculated that my fuel consumption averages about 39mpg. I guess that’s reasonable thirstiness for this type of bike but it’s hardly going to win awards for environmental friendliness Burning several gallons more fuel, I rode to Snetterton and Cadwell for SuperBike’s track-day double-header. Chucking the Z750 around on track was blindingly good fun. I’d fitted a set of Pirelli Diablos in preparation and, with roasting-hot track temperatures, there seemed no limit to how fast I turn in or accelerate out. OK, so this was my first proper track experience, but however much my speed increased, the Zed just lapped it up. If this bike’s supposed to be a budget roadster, someone forgot to tell its designers.
Tuesday, 12 June 2012
Kawasaki Z750 (2005)
The Kawasaki Z750's less of a workhorse these days, relieved of commuting duties as Dave opts for the warmth of the train. Weekend blasts through the Sussex countryside have become a ritualistic release, but is he disturbing the peace?
We had the first incarnation of the Kawasaki Z750 as a long term test bike way back in the mists of time...OK, it was 2005 and the rider was Dave Bradford.
8 November 2005
The sad truth is, winter has arrived, it’s cold, and I’m not riding the bike very much. Travelling by train has its dull moments but it’s warm and dry and, except on those rare sunny moments, I can’t pretend I’d rather be braving it out on two wheels. Although I don’t miss the boring 50-mile commute, I’m forever yearning to go for a quick thrash. Perhaps it’s my imagination, but I’m sure I ride differently now that I’m not riding as much. Every moment on the bike has to be savoured, and that means riding with more commitment, more focus. I’m not talking about unnecessary risk-taking or pointless aggression, just enjoying the full sensory assault of spirited road riding. It’s not about A-to-B practicality anymore; it’s about appreciating how the Z750 responds, lifting the front under power, welcoming the unforgiving kicks from the firm rear shock, relishing the rude exhaust yowl, and absorbing all the many intangible delights.
Does this new, impassioned riding style make me a less considerate road user? I really hope not, but something happened at the weekend that did beg the question. I’d accelerated hard uphill along a safe stretch of country lane, shutting off long before I reached the crest. As I neared the top, an old man came into view, pushing a wheelbarrow across the road. I’d already slowed down and barely had to brake at all, but he stopped on the road, glared at me, and shook his head disapprovingly. I can only assume he’d heard the exhaust noise as I’d accelerated and assumed I was riding irresponsibly. Either that, or he just disliked the noise. I’m not an antagonist by nature and I don’t like upsetting people, but had I done anything wrong? The Remus stubby end-can is fairly loud, and I’m forced to accept that the sound of an enthusiastically ridden bike doesn’t prickle the hairs on everyone’s neck. So a new exhaust is on the way.
No, I’m not going all PC and resorting to a road-legal can. On the contrary, I’m going the whole hog with a full Akrapovic system. They tell me the Slovenian pipes are fairly muted compared to other race systems. If the new zorst quietens the Zed a little, that’s fine with me. If not, I know I’m going to love it anyway – and sod the miserable head-shakers!
6 October
I’ve only gone and done it. I’ve left the bike at home and come to work on the train. I thought I could make it until the end of the month but I’ve given in, quit, waved the white flag. The huge grey swirl on the weather map looked depressing, and when the weather girl said the words “squally showers” it was just too much to bear.
Yesterday’s ride home provided the first taste of really bad weather so far this year, reminding me about the reality of winter riding. I thought I was well-prepared, donning a zip-together textile suit, ‘waterproof’ boots and ‘waterproof’ gloves, but it just wasn’t enough. The gloves had pointlessly thick cuffs, so I couldn’t tuck them in underneath my sleeves. That meant water poured down the sleeves into the gloves, soaking my hands – and wet hands are cold hands. Next, I felt a freezing trickle of water on my midriff and the sensation of creeping wetness gradually spread across my stomach. Only when I got home did I realise the boots had leaked too. It turns out the jacket and trousers had, independently, done their job, but water had pissed in through the connecting zip. One hot shower and full change of clothes later, and I’d narrowly averted hypothermia.
So, even though it’s going to cost a fortune and involve sitting inactive for 50 minutes twice a day, I’m happy to take the train until spring arrives. Does that make me a spineless weakling, a fair-weather johnny? Seriously, what do you think? When I had a shorter commute, I braved out several winters, but I can’t say I ever really enjoyed them. The Z750 is my only means of transport, so it’ll still get frequent use, but most of my riding will be restricted to weekends. Let’s hope we get plenty of winter sunshine. In the meantime, I’ll try and recall memories of my last track-day, a month ago at Brands Hatch. It was roasting hot and, by the end of the day, I was feeling elated with my progress. I was getting smoother and faster, and feeling in control despite an earlier ‘moment’ at Paddock Hill.
The Z750 might not be the fastest bike out there, but it’s really easy to get on with. I spent one session riding an 2004 ZX-6R and didn’t feel nearly as confident. Although the ZX had more power and far better brakes, it seemed to require more confidence and more commitment. Having covered 8,000 miles on the Zed, including three track-days, I trust it completely. I have faith in its friendly power delivery, its positive steering and its unremarkable-yet-adequate brakes. Yep, the Z750 and I are a happy couple, and the only thing that can destroy our harmony is this God-awful weather.
23 August
After a couple of weeks riding Jayne’s (Toyne) Suzuki GSR600, it was great to get back on the Z750. It’s not that I don’t like the Suzuki but it feels lacklustre compared to the Zed. The GSR is like that mate who never lets you down but never really makes you laugh either, whereas the Z750 is more akin to the livewire mate who has everyone in stitches every five minutes. You know which one’s more fun to spend time with, right? Since getting it back, I’ve appreciated the Z750 more than ever.
Although I haven’t had time to go on any epic rides or sniff out exciting new roads, I’ve made the most of some familiar stretches of Sussex B-road. There is something almost intoxicating about thrashing the Z750 along pieces of road that I’ve ridden hundreds of times and know intimately well. With familiarity comes confidence and commitment, kept in check only by the awareness that danger always lurks regardless of local knowledge. In the same way that I know every dimple of the road, I also feel completely at one with the Z750. It’s a bike that makes you, the rider, feel totally in charge and does nothing to unsettle that sureness. As a result, I’m getting more and more convinced that you don’t really need any more than about 100bhp to have limitless fun on British roads. Riding a naked bike with modest power is great for so many reasons. For one thing, chavs in quasi-quick cars foolishly imagine they have a chance to outpace you, and you’re always the underdog at track-days. In other words, you’re permanently on to a winner because you’ve got nothing to prove.
So I’m happy with the Z750’s performance as standard, but that doesn’t mean I’d pass up the chance of increasing its power. And that chance came winging its way to the office a couple of weeks ago, in the form of a Power Commander. I’ve since had it fitted and mapped by PDM Racing, and I’m well pleased with the result. Suffice to say, it’s made a considerable difference – I’ll tell the full story in next month’s mag.
14 July
A lot has happened over the past month. I’ve done over 2,000 on the Z750, including daily commuting, a trip to Cornwall, and two track-days. Oh, the joys of summer. But let’s start with the dull bit. Getting to and from the office is a one-hour slog each way. The Zed cruises comfortably at 80mph but I can’t cope any longer with the windblast-induced neck strain at higher speeds or when there’s a headwind, so I’ve ordered a small aftermarket screen from Kawasaki. It took a while to make the decision, partly because I think the bike looks great as standard, and because fitting the screen requires drilling (my DIY handiwork wins awards for ham-fistedness). The Z750’s fuel tank holds 18 litres, which is a decent amount, but I have to fill up every day. I’ve sketchily calculated that my fuel consumption averages about 39mpg. I guess that’s reasonable thirstiness for this type of bike but it’s hardly going to win awards for environmental friendliness
Burning several gallons more fuel, I rode to Snetterton and Cadwell for SuperBike’s track-day double-header. Chucking the Z750 around on track was blindingly good fun. I’d fitted a set of Pirelli Diablos in preparation and, with roasting-hot track temperatures, there seemed no limit to how fast I turn in or accelerate out. OK, so this was my first proper track experience, but however much my speed increased, the Zed just lapped it up. If this bike’s supposed to be a budget roadster, someone forgot to tell its designers.
15 June
I’ve had the Z750 for little over a month and I’ve already clocked up over 2,000 miles. It’s used for my daily commute to and from work, a 100-mile round trip. The route is mainly motorway and dual-carriageway drudgery, which doesn’t really give the Zed chance to excel. Above 80mph, the wind-blast becomes uncomfortable, so I’m tempted to fit an aftermarket screen. I don’t want to disfigure the 750’s pretty little face but it would be nice to have something to tuck my head behind. From the moment of my first ride, I’ve been thoroughly entertained by the Z750. It handles sweetly and slices effortlessly through traffic. The motor is revvy and excitable but also has a healthy dollop of midrange. I’m a devoted fan of sporty naked bikes, and the Z750 is just my cup of tea. Having said that, its brakes could be better. They’re adequate but not as sharp as I’d like. A set of braided hoses is high on my modifications agenda. After that, I hope to smooth out the fuel injection by fitting a Power Commander.
So far, I’ve fitted a tail tidy, LED indicators, smaller number-plate and a Remus PowerCone exhaust. As a result, the back-end looks neater and more aggressive, giving a full view of the 180-section rear tyre. The exhaust didn’t fit brilliantly but it sounds great (and surprisingly loud). Road legal? Are they sure?
What are my plans for the Zed? I’m off on holiday to Newquay next week, and I’m looking forward to the feeling of liberation as I blast past endless caravans on the way. The meandering country roads will make a nice change, too, and it’ll be a good chance to find out how the Z750 fares over distance. Unfortunately, my holiday coincides with SuperBike’s track day at Silverstone, which I’m gutted about missing. I can’t wait to try the Kawasaki on a track, but at least I’ll have time to fit new tyres and get the brakes up to scratch in time for the Snetterton/Cadwell double-header in July.
A lot has happened over the past month. I’ve done over 2,000 on the Z750, including daily commuting, a trip to Cornwall, and two track-days. Oh, the joys of summer. But let’s start with the dull bit. Getting to and from the office is a one-hour slog each way. The Zed cruises comfortably at 80mph but I can’t cope any longer with the windblast-induced neck strain at higher speeds or when there’s a headwind, so I’ve ordered a small aftermarket screen from Kawasaki. It took a while to make the decision, partly because I think the bike looks great as standard, and because fitting the screen requires drilling (my DIY handiwork wins awards for ham-fistedness).
The Z750’s fuel tank holds 18 litres, which is a decent amount, but I have to fill up every day. I’ve sketchily calculated that my fuel consumption averages about 39mpg. I guess that’s reasonable thirstiness for this type of bike but it’s hardly going to win awards for environmental friendliness Burning several gallons more fuel, I rode to Snetterton and Cadwell for SuperBike’s track-day double-header. Chucking the Z750 around on track was blindingly good fun. I’d fitted a set of Pirelli Diablos in preparation and, with roasting-hot track temperatures, there seemed no limit to how fast I turn in or accelerate out. OK, so this was my first proper track experience, but however much my speed increased, the Zed just lapped it up. If this bike’s supposed to be a budget roadster, someone forgot to tell its designers.
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