YZF750R (1993 - 1996) review
Can't live with the GSXR750 or FireBlade on the road. Needs to be worked hard
1993 YAMAHA YZF750
Waves of nostalgia come flooding back. After all this was the bike - albeit a severely race-prepped one - I spent three quality seasons in BSB on, so just climbing aboard one again brought a bit of a lump to my throat. Strange thing about the YZF was the whole time I was racing one, you couldn't buy them as they'd been deleted. Perhaps being pink and blue didn't help matters much... It's clear to see now that no matter how good the YZF was, it was too little too late, coming onto the scene six months after the all-conquering FireBlade - the bike that made the 750 class next to redundant overnight.
Ultimately it's not the greatest in terms of top speed, it needs revving hard to get decent performance out of it because the real power's above 7,000rpm. Get into those last couple of thousand rpm though and the motor comes alive, sounding very reminiscent of my old Cadbury's Boost race bike. And this one was even in good nick too. The only thing that let it down (apart from that paint job of course) were a few rusty cheapo steel bolts that stood out a mile. Oh, and the wheels - Yamaha seemed to use something like Tippex for wheel paint back in the YZF's day so they've all got really shabby wheels now.
So after a few days with the bike, it was time to head for Barry... Now before this trip I wondered what I'd let myself in for because people kept asking if I was still going. That should should have set alarm bells ringing, but I thought nothing of it. Then, as I spoke to Wozza, Bertie and Stu making plans before the trip, they suggested I might want to get some proper winter riding gear. At this point the penny dropped. My winters in the past have always been spent on a track, abroad, and in the sunshine, not South Wales in December. One quick call to my sponsors at Eurohelmets and I was all set with a proper winter wardrobe.
Done up like an Eskimo, I left for Wales and despite the warnings, I had a right laugh on the trip down and was glad I'd ditched the motorways in favour of some more fun backroads. It was a fast ride down and the YZF was rather good, letting me go as fast as I wanted, wherever I wanted. Front brakes were a bit average, so a bit of planning ahead was needed. So not bad, but you can tell things have come on a bit since then. It was a good trip, but there were a few little tricks I had to learn the hard way - like not leaving my jacket cuffs inside my gloves so rain can run straight into them (ta for the dry ones Bertie!) And getting in and out of umpteen layers when I stopped for fuel also took some getting used too.
Glitches like these aside, the ride to South Wales through the valleys was stunning. By the time I got there, I reckoned winter riding was pretty damned good and I couldn't see what all the fuss was about. Unsurprisingly, the rest of the boys weren't at the services we arranged to meet at on time and so I holed up with some coffee and waited. Then I got a call from Wozza. Turns out they were miles away and running late. Obviously at this point they had no idea quite how late they could be (eh Bertie?), so I headed on to Barry to check the place out while there was still some light left.
An hour later and I was wishing I'd stayed in the services...I'm sure in summer Barry could be quite happening, especially after a few pints, but in December it is dead as a doornail. The amusement arcades were open but even the owners seemed to have disappeared and the only movement I saw were the crisp packets blowing down the streets. Barry isn't a large place either so whichever way I walked, within 100 metres it was all over and I was back at the hotel. In the end I gave in and headed for the sanctuary of my room and Postman Pat on the telly.
Still, the others made it in the end and as we reflected on the day's calamities, in the bar we comforted ourselves by thinking at least it couldn't get any worse. How wrong we were...
Leaving Barry in an absolute pea-souper the next morning we headed off to try and get a few more pics, and it turned into the toughest photo shoot I've had to do yet. If you want to try wheelying over a cow-shit-coated, soggy blind crest in 20 metre visibility may I suggest you get your head examined - it's not too good for your health. Nothing in my race career could ever have prepared me for that one.
YZF BUYING TIPS
Watch the oil -- YZFs use a lot of it for some reason.
No need to check for bikes that have had a hard life because the lightweight finish (thin paint on wheels and cheap rust-prone fasteners), and brakes that seize at the first sign of road salt mean unloved YZFs will all look very tatty by now.
If there's a race can fitted, beware - the YZF's EXUP valve means they need very careful setting up or they'll bugger-up power delivery.
Over 20,000 miles chances are the clutch'll be dead - budget on a replacement.
Electrics can suffer too thanks to being located under the seat and right in the line of fire from spray off the back wheel.
Umm that's about it. If a YZF looks clean and standard, chances are it is. Go for it.
1993 YAMAHA YZF750
Waves of nostalgia come flooding back. After all this was the bike - albeit a severely race-prepped one - I spent three quality seasons in BSB on, so just climbing aboard one again brought a bit of a lump to my throat. Strange thing about the YZF was the whole time I was racing one, you couldn't buy them as they'd been deleted. Perhaps being pink and blue didn't help matters much... It's clear to see now that no matter how good the YZF was, it was too little too late, coming onto the scene six months after the all-conquering FireBlade - the bike that made the 750 class next to redundant overnight.
Ultimately it's not the greatest in terms of top speed, it needs revving hard to get decent performance out of it because the real power's above 7,000rpm. Get into those last couple of thousand rpm though and the motor comes alive, sounding very reminiscent of my old Cadbury's Boost race bike. And this one was even in good nick too. The only thing that let it down (apart from that paint job of course) were a few rusty cheapo steel bolts that stood out a mile. Oh, and the wheels - Yamaha seemed to use something like Tippex for wheel paint back in the YZF's day so they've all got really shabby wheels now.
So after a few days with the bike, it was time to head for Barry... Now before this trip I wondered what I'd let myself in for because people kept asking if I was still going. That should should have set alarm bells ringing, but I thought nothing of it. Then, as I spoke to Wozza, Bertie and Stu making plans before the trip, they suggested I might want to get some proper winter riding gear. At this point the penny dropped. My winters in the past have always been spent on a track, abroad, and in the sunshine, not South Wales in December. One quick call to my sponsors at Eurohelmets and I was all set with a proper winter wardrobe.
Done up like an Eskimo, I left for Wales and despite the warnings, I had a right laugh on the trip down and was glad I'd ditched the motorways in favour of some more fun backroads. It was a fast ride down and the YZF was rather good, letting me go as fast as I wanted, wherever I wanted. Front brakes were a bit average, so a bit of planning ahead was needed. So not bad, but you can tell things have come on a bit since then. It was a good trip, but there were a few little tricks I had to learn the hard way - like not leaving my jacket cuffs inside my gloves so rain can run straight into them (ta for the dry ones Bertie!) And getting in and out of umpteen layers when I stopped for fuel also took some getting used too.
Glitches like these aside, the ride to South Wales through the valleys was stunning. By the time I got there, I reckoned winter riding was pretty damned good and I couldn't see what all the fuss was about. Unsurprisingly, the rest of the boys weren't at the services we arranged to meet at on time and so I holed up with some coffee and waited. Then I got a call from Wozza. Turns out they were miles away and running late. Obviously at this point they had no idea quite how late they could be (eh Bertie?), so I headed on to Barry to check the place out while there was still some light left.
An hour later and I was wishing I'd stayed in the services...I'm sure in summer Barry could be quite happening, especially after a few pints, but in December it is dead as a doornail. The amusement arcades were open but even the owners seemed to have disappeared and the only movement I saw were the crisp packets blowing down the streets. Barry isn't a large place either so whichever way I walked, within 100 metres it was all over and I was back at the hotel. In the end I gave in and headed for the sanctuary of my room and Postman Pat on the telly.
Still, the others made it in the end and as we reflected on the day's calamities, in the bar we comforted ourselves by thinking at least it couldn't get any worse. How wrong we were...
Leaving Barry in an absolute pea-souper the next morning we headed off to try and get a few more pics, and it turned into the toughest photo shoot I've had to do yet. If you want to try wheelying over a cow-shit-coated, soggy blind crest in 20 metre visibility may I suggest you get your head examined - it's not too good for your health. Nothing in my race career could ever have prepared me for that one.
YZF BUYING TIPS
Watch the oil -- YZFs use a lot of it for some reason.
No need to check for bikes that have had a hard life because the lightweight finish (thin paint on wheels and cheap rust-prone fasteners), and brakes that seize at the first sign of road salt mean unloved YZFs will all look very tatty by now.
If there's a race can fitted, beware - the YZF's EXUP valve means they need very careful setting up or they'll bugger-up power delivery.
Over 20,000 miles chances are the clutch'll be dead - budget on a replacement.
Electrics can suffer too thanks to being located under the seat and right in the line of fire from spray off the back wheel.
Umm that's about it. If a YZF looks clean and standard, chances are it is. Go for it.
