SUZUKI GSX-R1100G
Former stunt rider Martin ‘Wild’ Child joins CMM!
It’s been a long time between Gixer 11 drinks for Martin ‘Wild Child’ Child. But then what’s 30 years between old friends?
The pile of paper is steadily growing: “3300, 3400, and those two make 3500.” As the last £50 notes are slapped into the open palm of a slightly concerned friend, the realisation that I’ve reached the top of the motorcycling tree isn’t lost on me. I’m 19 years old and the keys to Suzuki’s then flagship hyperbike, the mighty GSX-R1100H, are firmly in my grasp as I straddle the blue and white speed-seeking rocket. I’d started my biking journey on an equally blue and white TS50ER a mere three years previously, offering speed and thrills over my BMX. The change from pedalling to biking was a real eye-opener in the search for freedom and independence. Then things got real with a Kawasaki KE175, before getting surreal with Yamaha’s ubiquitous RD350LC, before living out my Top Gun fantasies on a Kwaka GPZ750R: yes, I knew the film featured a 900R but luckily girls didn’t. My Cc-ascent had been rapid, but imagine how I felt being a teenager astride a 125hp surface-to-air missile just about to hit the starter for the first time? Yeah, baby, this is living on the edge. And, as we all know, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right? So here I am, three decades later. Proof in itself that there was only one winner in the stronger versus death battle back then – in your face, Mr G Reaper! Naturally, much has changed in the intervening 30 years but, as I once more count out 3500 beer-tokens for a slab-side GSX-R1100 (this time Australian-flavoured rather than English), I’m reminded of those earlier days of superbike discovery – the speed, the wheelies, the feeling of running in the top paddock. So, that’s the plan, then? Buy back my old bike, relive the glory days of old and wait for nursey to bring the next round of medication? Sod that, let’s get this 1100 smoking and hoiking a front tyre into the future! The intention was never to just rebuild my ‘new’ 1100 and have a stock ride. A few weeks before buying the hand-painted red 1100, the whole project had kickedoff with the purchase of a GSX-R1000 K8 rolling chassis. The written-off bike had been bought by a guy wanting the engine for a buggy (yep, we don’t mess about Down Under), and the wheels and the connection between them were all mine for the princely sum of $900 (£500). We’ll put this down on the Good Deal side of the BMBP (Beer Mat Budget Plan), as
buying this lot individually would entail more outlay and more travelling. Australia is, as your geography teacher would have hopefully known, a bloody big place. It’s plain luck if what you need is available even within the same hemisphere: lucky then for me that the rolling chassis was grab-able within a two-hour van trip. Toot, toot! After getting the K8 pushbike home, the next step in the arse-about build schedule was to buy a complete, running and rideable Suzuki Bandit 1200. Advertised locally for $1500 (£800), it saw the back of the van for $1000 (£550): more pluses on the BMBP! Well, it seemed rude not to snap it up and was good insurance against buying a GSX-R1100 with an average engine, as the Bandit 12 (at 1157) is the second-largest (and latest) incarnation of the original 1052cc mill. Fits like a glove, too, so the torque goes… Then, obviously, the only thing needed for the GSX-R1100 project was, er, the aforementioned GSX-R1100. Three-and-ahalf bags of sand later, I’d assembled all the main ingredients of Project GSX-R 10/11 and, quite possibly, 12. The dodgy red GSX-R1100 was typical of a 32-year-old Japanese bike. Fixings ranged from stainless bolts to plasterboard screws, from original clamps to modern race tape and modifications ranged from “That’s great,” to “How does that even work?” But the frame was straight, the body panels mainly intact and the harder-to-find parts (fairing stay, tank filler cap, clock assembly and the trademark trapezoid rear light) were all in good usable nick. Between the thou roller, Bandit and Gixer, my bill had already reached $5400 (£3000). But that’ll drop down to $4400 (£2500) if I don’t need to use the B12 engine. So what’s the plan? Put the wheels, forks, swingarm, brakes and clip-ons from the GSX-R1000 onto its bigger forefather and throw the Bandit engine in only if needed. Then it’s just a case of mixing
the ingredients; bit like in one of those reality cooking shows, but without the bitchin’ or swearing. Simples. So let’s put some guesswork around a framework to this project and see how the dollars are gonna add-up. So that’s a planned sub $8k (£4.5k) to create a one-off example of this iconic superbike, or about a third of the cost of the latest GSX-R1000. Sounds like a bloody bargain to me. The aim is to do all the work myself. As I’ve just completed a rebuild of a 1971 Datsun 240Z, the garage is pretty well stocked with basic tools, a welder (Seventies Jap car, yup that got some use) and a compressor. The Gixer fork conversion doesn’t look too difficult and has been done many times before. However, I haven’t seen the rear arm conversion yet, so I’m guessing it’ll either involve frame mods or just won’t fit in any way that’ll leave you confident to lean it reet over. Plus, of course, anything that has to be farmed-out will break my ‘all homebuilt’ aim. As I’ve still got my 1990 GSX-R 7/11L (1100 engine in a 750 frame) stunt bike hanging on the wall, this will be no fat-barred, sawn-off streetfighter. So full fairings it is then and strictly no lairy paint. And definitely no polished alloy! This is, after all, the year 2018… And a timescale: as this is no rusty Datto, I’m aiming towards a 10-week challenge with this bike; from many components to shiny wow in two-and-ahalf short months. Optimistic? Maybe. But keeping the pressure on yourself is the best way to get projects done and to avoid it sitting in the back of the shed or being put back up for sale. Finally, what the hell can I expect from a 32-year-old bike, less-than fresh from a time when anti-dive pistons were cutting edge and the designers considered water-cooling too futuristic? Will my dreams of a feisty classic bike running on DLC (Diamond Like Carbon – yep, me neither) forks, a 6in rear wheel and radial brakes come to fruition, or will I spend time, effort and money creating something with the poise and firmness of a Homer Simpson doll made of Play-doh. Hopefully it won’t end-up D’oh!