KAWASAKI F9
Steve Cooper on a little Bighorn. Ooh-er missus
Back in the early 1970s the Japanese factories were taking the feedback from their American distributors literally, that bigger was better. That mind set had come from the earliest forms of Stateside automotive competition where the maxim, ‘…There ain’t no substitute for cubes…’ saw every manufacturer looking to produce the largest capacity engine. Sometimes that approach worked fine with off-road motorcycles. Yamaha’s upscaling of the DT from 250 to 360 saw the resultant RT putting huge smiles on faces. When Suzuki tried the same trick on the TS250 Savage to deliver the TS400 it all got rather messy, with the first Apaches always looking for ways to eject their riders. In the 1960s, Kawasaki had been relatively small fry on both the dirt scene and with road bikes, but the launches of the H1 triple and subsequent Z1 had got the company name out there and recognised. With increasing brand awareness, Kawasaki had gradually honed their F series trail bike range, making them ever more viable to use off-road. As the 1970s gained momentum, they’d also either dropped, revised or replaced many of the trail bikes that had previously been substantially more road biased and/or ran quirky, rotary pattern, gear shifts. For the 1972 model year, Kawasaki made available a heavily revised 350 trail iron officially known as the F9, but generally marketed as the Bighorn. The name was taken from an off-road race, which took place in the state of Wyoming. The F9 replaced the F5, which had failed quite spectacularly to live up to expectation. Kawasaki needed to have a bike, which could compete on level terms with the likes of Yamaha’s RT series 360 trail bike, and they needed it now! The outgoing F5 had been so woefully lacking and flawed that, apparently, rather than fix the F5’s manifold issues, Kawasaki had either give owners a replacement machine or, in some cases, asked to choose another bike from the range. The F9 was carrying a huge burden of expectation. The F5 had been sold as a do-everything motorcycle and now the new F9 was going to have to step up to the plate. History suggests that the revised Bighorn did indeed realise that multi-tasking role, and in the USA even now the F9 has something of a following and is still fulfilling numerous tasks.
F9s aren’t exactly common here in the UK, so when you get the offer of one it’d be fundamentally rude to say no. Sitting pretty as a picture we have Chris Brealey’s 1975 F9C, which comes from the last model year the 350 trail bike was sold. It’s rare to ever call any Kawasaki stroker inconspicuous, but this one certainly is, sporting a restrained silver and black scheme. As with every other F5 and F9, the guards are painted in the same colour as the tank so the use of silver to both front and back blades follows on a consistent theme, yet does make the bike look a little utilitarian. Where the F9B does buck the trends is the oil tank. Here it’s gloss black, yet every preceding F9 had the panel in the same colour as tank and guards. A cynic might suggest Kawasaki was doing the absolute minimum to use up existing stock. Alternatively, you might very well argue that Kawasaki were amongst the first to eschew the glam-rock fashion trends of earliest ’70s, instead they had come of age and were now aiming for a more mature and understated look. Whatever the viewpoint, there’s no disputing the F9B is up at the same high levels the former aircraft division had set as a benchmark in its earliest days. That the bike was designed for off-road use was/is never up for debate. Key signs abound with those Kawasaki-specific brush guard chains ahead of both the gear lever and brake pedal pivots. There was no way any flora was going to get between levers and frame to have you off. Both clutch and brake perches are neatly shrouded with concertina gaiters to ward of dust and water. The bike’s designers were obviously aware that the F9 would be used in anger off-road, so fitted a seriously competent rubber cover to the choke and throttle cables as they enter the carburettor housing. The front indicators are tucked out of harm’s way, even if the rear pair look a little more prone to accident damage in a tumble. These were introduced in 1973 as compulsory fitment to all motorcycles with highway use potential. Elsewhere, the foot pegs are the folding type, a designed militated both by Federal Law and common sense.
In recognition of the engine’s potential to churn out some vibration, the pegs are rubber covered. A 350 stroker single requires a fairly substantial exhaust, and here Kawasaki had managed to run the entire system down the left-hand side of the bike without the need to wind it from one side to the other. Typical of the little styling details Kawasaki were known for is the chain-guard. There was no structural need to add all those holes, yet it’s a nice, aesthetic touch. The rest of the bike is all pretty much standard period Kawasaki fare, with satin black switchgear, mirror mounts, headlight bowl and brackets. The latter run substantial rubber mountings both on the fork stanchions and at the headlight pivot points. It was always a given that the bike would vibrate, so it made sense to take the necessary precautions. The rear light and rear
indicators are similarly rubber mounted. The bike is low on bling, but does run chrome detailing to the bottoms of the gauges and on the lid of the cylindrical tool box that sits just below the oil tank. Firing up the Bighorn is relatively simple and it’s a task made subtly easier by the presence of a vacuum fuel tap. If the bike’s been standing for a while, then it’s advisable to turn the lever to the PRIME position, but otherwise there’s no need to touch it. The choke lever is, thankfully, on the left switchgear, which means no shenanigans trying to manage both it and the throttle; presumably customer feedback had finally reached the factory to say clumsy Westerners could not do two things at once with one hand! Yamaha’s equivalent RT series 360 often came with a decompressor, but there’s not one fitted to the F9. Knowing the Yamahas come with a serious reputation for foot, ankle and knee injuries, I approach the F9’s kick start with some trepidation. Fortuitously, the bike is fitted as standard with a CDI unit so at least we should get a nice fat spark, even if it’s only from 6 volts of best primary windings. A good, hearty, consolidated swing right the way through and down has the motor up and running with no lower limb damage. Phew! The only irritation is Kawasaki’s predilection for spring-loaded chokes, but why, please? Surely a conventional friction-based choke lever makes more sense, or am I missing something here? This, and the large amount of alloy, means the motor does take a while to warm up. However, once up to temperature, the Bighorn idles away happily and, surprisingly, the exhaust note is remarkably restrained. Into gear, clutch out and it’s time to enjoy the delights that only large capacity strokers can deliver. It’s a motor which delivers large, treacle-like, dollops of easy-going torque, and when you marry up 350ccs of two-stroke to a disc-valve induction, it really doesn’t get much better. Forget your half-litre Yamaha XTS and your even larger Suzuki DRS; a nicely set up F9 is surely enough on the dirt. It’s planted without being heavy; the suspension is impressive for a trail bike; and there’s a surprisingly high level of comfort from the saddle. Yes, of course the riding position sets you up like a sail and higher speeds would be a pain, but that’s not what the bike is about. That it was designed for genuine off-road use is plain. Why else fit a bash plate and wide-braced bars? During the ride, one of my designated turn-around points is the entry to a bridleway and farm track which is littered with loose gravel, ruts and larger stones, yet none of these seem to wrong-foot the bike. The amount of lock afforded by the fork/frame dynamic is truly impressive, once again suggesting that the bike really was intended to be a true do-anything, go-anywhere machine. Turning around for another riding shot, I wind the bike up through the gears and note just how crisp the gearbox is; just what you need when riding hard on the dirt where a