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Our bikes: Suzuki GSX-R1100G (Guy ‘Guido’ Allen, Feb 2021) Ghengis the Gixxer We get a GSX-R1100 in the shed, and a few surprises It started a decade or so ago, when I asked the nice man behind the parts counter for an oil filter for a GSX1100. What I got instead was a filter for a first-model GSX-R1100. Didn’t spot the problem until I got home and unwrapped it. Bugger. While it was tempting to go back and ask for a swap, there was something in the back of the scone which said, no, just hang on to it. At that stage, I always secretly wanted to own a GSX-R. So I kept the Gixxer filter and went and bought the right GSX part and kept quiet. It’s a cargo cult mentality. If you keep the GSX-R filter, maybe it will attract whole GSX-Rs. It did. I’ve since owned three. The latest, a G model, which is the first iteration (1986), is something of a bastard. I’d like to think that, over the years, I’ve become reasonably adept at buying bikes online and/or over the ’phone. There have been some wins and losses, and I’m not entirely sure where this one sits. Having spotted it online, I rang the owner and had a chat. He came across as another would-be collector who wanted to offload one of two similar bikes. Okay. His description of the condition was good, when in reality I’d rate it as fair. (Read that as honest, but cosmetically tired.) What I should have done was take a much closer look at the online photos. There was clearly a gap in how we would both describe the bike. In retrospect, I should have checked his knowledge of this particular machine. What neither of us knew, until I started to sort out some issues, was that it’s a G-model chassis (the first of the series, circa 1986) fitted with an M-model engine, circa 1991, and the last of the air/oil-cooled powerplants. The first give-away on this mix was the thing went like a cut cat. I rode the G-model extensively, as a magazine staffer, when it was launched. While it was fast enough to produce a near-religious experience, this version was much too good for its age. Give-away two was the sad set of very expensive K&N filters crammed into the frame at all the wrong angles. Number three was, when you pulled off the air filters, there was a giant set of oval-mouthed carburetors staring back at you. Despite the partying and the claret, even I knew they did not belong to 1986 β the originals were round and much smaller. That’s when I started to check engine serial numbers. While advertised as a bike you could easily restore to original (it even came with the stock airbox and rare four-into-one exhaust system), the reality was it would not be a cheap conversion. Get the 1986 inlet manifold rubbers and carburetors and you could probably do it. On the plus side, the M-version of the engine is bigger (1127cc versus 1052cc), and has better than 10 per cent more torque and horsepower. It may not seem like much, but the difference between the two is very real β suggesting the factory numbers are modest. Okay, fine. Next up was the condition of the bike. For crying out loud, am I the only person on the planet who replaces fork seals? This, like most I’ve bought in the last few years, needed them. Fortunately the steering head and swingarm bearings were okay, as were the tyres. Not so the starter relay, which went to lunch on a cold and wet afternoon In Oakleigh β which is nowhere near home. Effing bastard. Of course I had to bump-start the sod, in the rain. And (after several runs) it eventually fired just at that last desperate attempt when I’d decided it was now or I’d throw the damned thing into the nearest skip. (See the story here.) A new starter relay (about $200) was easy enough to source, though it happens to be located in one of those dim places in the frame where only a double-jointed mechanic with a light embedded in their head could see it. We had a little trauma along the way, which was after I made the mistake of filling it with 98 RON fuel. It ran fine for a while, but the longer we idled in traffic, the worse things got. It died. Sure enough, fouled plugs. Why? I wasted a lot of time and effort pulling out and cleaning the carbs, and changing the plugs, chasing the problem. Maybe it wasn’t a complete waste, as it now has the cleanest fuel system on the planet. Oh, and we’ve fitted a new set of aftermarket air filters that tidy up the appearance. As luck would have it, I was interviewing ‘Dyno Dave’ Edgecombe of Dynobike for a story that week and he perfectly described the symptoms that Ghengis the GSX-R was suffering. Fine at highway speeds, but fouling plugs and eventually croaking at low revs. The cause? Do not run 98 RON fuel in carburetor bikes of that period. It’s too dense, enriches the mixture too much, and they can’t cope. Go for 95. I took his advice and the problem was solved. (Old mate Spannerman has been pointing this out for years and is now grumpy with meβ¦) So having had a bit a whinge about the trials of mixed-breed GSX-R ownership, is there a plus? Yep. The early ‘slabbie’ series looks basic thanks to its endurance racer heritage and has charm because of that. More importantly, even today they are a good ride. The numbers are modest by current standards: 130-145 horses for a 200-ish kilo package. What those numbers don’t tell you is just how much fun they are. Compact, noisy, fast, a little crude and still capable of hitting a turn at decent pace, it’s hard not to like them. See our Suzuki GSX-R1100 series buyer guide ------------------------------------------------- Produced by AllMoto abn 61 400 694 722 |
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