KAWASAKI Z900RS SE
No doubt I’m just about to upset some people by saying that the original Kawasaki Z900 – affectionally known as the Z1 – is the bike that in 1972 started the genre known today as the superbike. Purists will scoff and point to the Honda CB750 as THE first superbike, and they make a good case. However, given that the Kawasaki was also being developed with a 750cc engine, and upon learning of Honda’s plans to also fit their bike with a 750cc engine, Kawasaki upped the capacity of the Z1 to 900cc, in a stroke began the quest for ever increasing amounts of power and one-upmanship in the class that still goes on today. If you’re going to have a retro bike in your garage, it’s hard to think of a better one than one which pays tribute to the original ‘Up Yours’ superbike.
Clearly, there is precisely zero comparison between the original and today’s Z900RS. The original had 80bhp, weighed 246kg, was air-cooled, used carburettors, had a fivespeed gearbox and a top speed of 130mph. The RS version of Kawasaki’s excellent Z900 is water-cooled, has six gears, is fuel injected, makes 110bhp and weighs 30kg less than its ancestor. It also gets radial brakes, fully adjustable suspension (Öhlins at the rear on the posh SE version we had for this test), and a pair of 300mm brake discs up front compared to a single 290mm disc on the original. Today’s Z900RS also gets 17-inch wheels with fat tyres fitted, as opposed to a 19-inch and 18-inch wheels with skinny tyres on the original. I could go on making comparisons to highlight the technical progress made in 50 years, but that would be as pointless as it is obvious. That said, it does make me very happy that Kawasaki is proud of its heritage and the Z1’s place in its journey. It is hard to overstate just how significant the Z1 was – not just for Kawasaki, but also for anyone in the past 50 years who gets their kicks by going fast, so it’s good to see such a visually accurate tribute to it.
The thing about riding the Z900RS is that by being so authentic visually, it does mean that by sitting and riding it, you come into contact with all those details. The seat, handlebars, mirrors and riding position aren’t like anything else we usually see on the magazine. The seat is soft, the footpegs are low, the handlebars are high, and the mirrors show you everything going on behind you. It’s very civilised, and with the super-smooth four-cylinder engine barely breaking into a sweat to make its 100(ish)bhp, the whole experience of riding it is utterly stress-free. The rev counter and speedo are analogue, which is a novelty these days, with only a tiny digital display for the odometer and other incidental information to be displayed as a concession to 2023 information that didn’t exist in 1972. More than once, I caught myself thinking how nice it is to see an analogue speedometer, wondering how long it was since I last rode a bike with one... only then to find myself cursing it because the numbers are so small that glancing quickly at the speedo is pretty much impossible. A longer look is needed, which is then followed by the thought, ‘They don’t make them like they used to… thank god’.
So, the physical interaction with the bike feels incredibly authentic, right down to not being able to read the speedo at first glance and the lack of a quickshifter, but unsurprisingly, the experience of riding it feels anything but authentic. There is three-way traction control, ABS, a slipper clutch, and the brakes are radial Brembo calipers, and so is the master cylinder, which all combine to give the Z a thoroughly modern feel to how it responds and communicates.
The engine falls somewhere in between by clearly being capable of much more in the way of fizz. It feels like it is in a very low state of tune and has a heavy crankshaft
which manifests itself in how it picks up revs and builds them in a very controlled and measured way without any change in rate the higher the engine revs. This mechanical set-up, matched to Kawasaki’s excellent fuel injection set-up and mapping, makes for a power delivery that is the epitome of smoothness. Just want to pull yourself out of corners or bumble around in traffic or town? No problem, just use the massive low-down torque of the engine and inertia of the crank. Want to pop the odd wheelie, or keep up with Bruce on his MT-09 in disguise? Also no problem, just use the top half of the revs. It’s so civilised that both approaches are so uncomplicated and such a doddle that they are equally effective.
Getting the best out of the user-friendly engine is made easier thanks to the way the chassis is set up. It’s not a particularly heavy bike, and even though it doesn’t have a big price tag, it’s always nice to see not only good suspension fitted, but also that same suspension really well set up. It feels perfectly sprung and really well damped at each end as standard, so the temptation to fiddle with the adjusters never came.
It does have a little quirky characteristic to the way it turns thanks to the relationship between the engine and handlebars. The engine sits quite high in the chassis, which makes the bike feel like it’s got quite a high centre of gravity, and the handlebars are also quite high, adding big leverage to the already high centre of gravity. So, while the sensation of falling rather than flicking into a corner takes a little while to get dialled into, it’s made easier thanks to the excellent suspension. It doesn’t dive excessively while braking, and there’s no hint of wallowing as the bike feels like it’s initially dropping onto its side.
It’s all very controlled and precise, which goes a long way towards building confidence in the bike, which, in turn, is where a large part of the enjoyment comes from. That control and stability in the chassis also means if you want to start throwing it about a bit or attack a bumpy road, the Z is well up for it… up to a point. While it can drop into a corner nicely, it does need input through the corner to get it to hold its line. The bike’s relatively high centre of gravity, combined with its relatively lazy geometry, means it does have this split personality that reveals itself mostly when you start riding in a spirited way.
I think the Z would benefit a lot from a different set of aftermarket tyres which are less stiff than the OE fitment Dunlops it comes with. For me, the OE tyres feel like they are far too stiff for the bike and just didn’t key into the tarmac in the way I know a lot of other tyres can. They felt like they were over-inflated (they weren’t), and something more supple and with different
profiles would not only make the quality of ride even better, but it would also potentially iron out the quirks in the way the bike turns and even hold its line.
So, is the Z900RS SE a modern take on the original Z1? No, not really. For it to be so, it would have to be a class-leading, cutting-edge superbike – just as the Z1 was in 1972 and for several years after. By today’s standards, that would mean at least twice as much power, unspeakably brilliant rider aids, aero aids and so on and so on... because that’s what the Z1 was in its day – top dog. No, the Z900RS SE is a Z1 brought up to date with some modern components and 50 years of evolution.
I really like that Kawasaki has not strayed from the original bike and has stuck to the same look. Why wouldn’t you? The Z1 is an absolute icon for people of a certain age. It and the Honda formed the genesis of an entire genre of bike – the superbike. They were the first inline four-cylinder bikes to come out of Japan; the Z1 was the first to have twin cams, a formula that is still the go-to for sportsbikes and virtually all motorcycles today.
The year 1972 was a good one. Apart from the fact I was born, much more importantly for us all today, Kawasaki deployed the Z1 and started the arms race that rages on to this very day... the consequence of which is still bringing us bikes like the 240bhp Ducati Panigale V4
R and the bonkers-looking BMW M 1000 RR with its fandangled aero technology. You can draw a line directly from those and the rest of today’s obscene superbikes all the way back through the Fireblades, GSX-Rs, YZFs, FZRs, GPZs and so on until you arrive at the Z1 in 1972, and there the line stops. The best bit, which is hard to believe now, is that back then the Z1 was viewed as lairy, overpowered and utterly unnecessary... just as today’s superbikes are.
Riding a modern version of that bike is a wholesome experience, just if for no other reason than to remind ourselves of how far we’ve come. Even though I have no doubt that the Z900RS is nothing like an original Z1 to ride (I’m not that misty-eyed), I am certain that at the very least it has the essence of the Z1. I am convinced of this because I had a great day out on it with some mates – I rode it really fast, really slow, did some wheelies, basked in the reflective glory when people stopped to look at it, and yes, I did check myself out in the reflection of shop windows, all without wishing I was on something else. What’s not to like?