1986 YAMAHA FJ1100
Mossy mounts his Marmite bike: the big Yam FJ.
My assessment of this original spec FJ1100 definitely came in two parts. First impressions weren’t exactly damning, but they could hardly be labelled as enthusiastic either, so let’s begin. Though sitting very low, the Yamaha just felt too obese to warrant praise. It seemed more HGV than motorcycle. As I’d anticipated, the first few miles aboard the beast didn’t draw much in the way of compliment. Considering it a bit overbearing, I continued trundling along on the Yam rather grumpily, frowning and muttering about its excessive weight and dimensions as I did. During those early miles, I ended up becoming more interested in the scenery I was riding through than the bike itself. It was hardly what you’d describe as inspiring stuff. As time went by, the lack of love persisted. Okay, the FJ was nice and comfy, and the motor had plenty of low-rev torque. As long as you accepted it for what it was, the weighty 1100 could be considered as quite a relaxing bike really. It certainly didn’t feel like much of a sportsbike though. To me, it appeared to have a minor allergy to corners, and with brakes and suspension that I didn’t fancy testing at higher speeds, my pace and enthusiasm remained fairly sedated. All in all, I considered the FJ as a bit unworthy, a bit ‘so what’, and not possessing much at all to write home about. I worried about being able to conjure up enough words to write a test. At that point I was certainly going to be short of many kind ones. But then everything changed. I met my photographer to get some riding shots in the bag. Wanting the images to have some sort of life to them, I started to boss the 1100 about and wring its neck appreciably more. Repeatedly running through the same series of corners soon gets you very familiar with both the curves of the road as well as the bike itself. Before I knew it, I felt far more comfortable pushing things harder, confidently attacking the twisting, undulating thoroughfare: muscling the FJ with commitment made it feel much more responsive. Calling it agile would be overstepping the mark a fair bit, but with a bit of bicep flexing it felt a lot easier to steer and change direction than it had done earlier. The handling ‘improvement’ generated a lot more positivity and I started to feel significantly more optimistic about things. Suddenly those shortcomings I suspected would show up in the suspension and brakes if I started going for it didn’t really materialise. They were good enough, the tyres were good enough, and when it was revved a bit harder, the engine was more than good enough too. I felt as though I was riding a completely different bike. I guess it was a classic case of the more you put in the more you get out. The good times continued and even when the lensman and I had parted, my optimistic view of the bike remained. Stuff I’d overlooked earlier, because I was too busy bitching, was added to an everlengthening list of things to praise. Chassis
stability is a big plus point of the FJ. This is a solid feeling motorbike and I simply can’t imagine it getting flustered by bumps, ruts, or cats’ eyes. None I ran over had any effect on its composure, regardless of throttle position or angle of lean. I’d expected a little less certainty because of the bike’s 16in wheels, but it constantly remained planted. Maybe the Yamaha’s race-inspired ‘Lateral Frame Concept’, which adds rigidity to the headstock, was responsible. Whatever the reason, it’s very reassuring to know all seems to stay safe and secure under this sort of pressure. It’s fair to say the brakes aren’t the strongest ever, but funnily enough, once you’ve learned to squeeze the front brake lever a bit harder, and put some extra pressure on the rear brake pedal – which you can do effectively as there’s a fair bit of weight over the rear wheel to help grip – you can haul the Yamaha up within a respectable distance. It helped that the 1100 was fitted with half decent rubber which boosted adhesion and allowed more aggressive progress without worry, and all in all I felt increasingly confident in ‘giving it some’. One thing that did surprise me when I got up to speed though, was the lack of any ground clearance issues. Ever since the FJ made its 1984 debut, virtually every road test I’ve read has complained about foot-rests clattering against the road prematurely. Not once did I have such a thing hinder my progress, though I have to admit a certain Mr Ron Haslam did teach me how to ride in a manner to prevent this. But that’s another tale. The 1100’s engine also raised my eyebrows a little. There’s no doubt the five-speed inline four doesn’t need to be revved too much to give solid levels of drive. But as whipping the tacho needle further round its dial can raise the heart rate approvingly, I did just that from time to time. It’s nice to know harder revving isn’t a must, but it’s just as satisfying to learn there are rewards on offer if you do. By the time I was done with the FJ, I rather wished I wasn’t. Time, miles, and that all-important change in technique had shown me the Yamaha can cope with a trundle or thrash, but now I quite
fancied a tour – maybe down to the south of France. It welcomes such an adventure thanks to its super comfy feel, the result of the relaxed riding position, decent seat, and effective fairing. I know I didn’t spend anywhere near enough time on the FJ to know for sure it would be up for such a long trip. But a call to a mate, who ran a similarly-proportioned 1200 model around Europe more than a few times in the late 80s, assured me such travel was straightforwardly satisfying and comfortable. With no chance of finding that out for myself, I reluctantly took the FJ back to its owner and reflected on the distinctly different opinions I’d started and ended up with. All I’d needed to do to appreciate the 1100 was to grab it by the scruff, give it a bit of a caning and show it who was the boss. Doing that let me discover that lurking beneath the weight and bulk of the bike was a distinctly sportier and more lively persona. As soon as I learned that, then the FJ got the big thumbs up. Life’s a funny old thing sometimes is it not? cmm