YAMAHA LS2
Reacquaint yourself with Yamaha’s LS2, probably one of the rarest from the manufacturer’s early 1970s Europa range. Scoop just has.
Steve Cooper aboard a rather petite and plucky tiddler Yamaha twin.
Every now and then you just know, regardless of engine capacity, a certain bike is going to be a hoot to ride. Sometimes that feeling may come from a machine’s reputation, it could be the model has a certain cachet or it’s simply the supposed inherited DNA. In the case of this particular machine it’s probably the genetic make-up of Yamaha two-stroke twins that gives the game away. From the firm’s earliest offering of the YDS1 sports twin through the entire RD range, then the seminal LCS and on to the TZRS, every machine therein had been performance orientated. Our blue and white test bike may ‘only’ carry a nominal 100ccs of swept volume, but there’s almost an unwritten guarantee that each single cubic centimetre will have a little touch of the Iwata magic. That diminutive motor will have the essential essences that carried the likes of Read, Duff, Ivy, etcetera over the finish line ahead of the rest.
You may not necessarily have heard of the LS2 as it was never sold in the UK. It’s a machine primarily aimed at the American market along with certain European and Scandinavia countries where licencing restrictions applied. Although not a UK model, the LS2 probably looks strangely familiar, but how come? Simple – it’s the smaller sibling of the famous AS3 and mimics it in several key areas, especially the engine which runs the same satin silver engine cases and the characteristic cylinder head that sports faux semi-horizontal finning. Elsewhere there’s a touch of the larger CS5E 200 twin via the decals on the side-panel and oil-tank. Everywhere you look there are details that run over most, if not all of the early 1970s Yamaha twins range and beyond. A pair of chrome-bodied gauges wearing those shiny rubber tops; carburettors mounted off cast-in stubs; the high beam indicator mounted in the headlight shell; bare chrome plated
shocks; the globular turn signals; etc. Some of what is fitted to the LS2 is unique to the bike, such as the seat that never sported a stainless steel trim around its lower edge. Also you’ll note the cute, if quirky raised hump at its rear which isn’t some random artefact of poor recovering – they’re all like that sir. Yamaha’s production methods of the period were as visually attractive as they were costeffective; spend some styling time and money making the bike look stunning whilst retaining family lineage, but then use as many generic parts as possible. Therefore it’s almost a given that key items such as hubs, brake plates, wheel rims, forks, shock absorbers, etc., would have been used a wide range of other machines, thereby reducing parts proliferation and costs.
Chancing my arm and hopping out on a limb here I’ll go on record as saying this bike is officially part of the Europa range that first saw the light of day circa 1970 with the all-new YDS7 250 and YR5 350. Visually the key delineator is the fuel tank with the characteristic ‘major and minor’ contrasting colours. Yamaha’s apparently haphazard approach to key items polarises enthusiast’s perceptions to this day of what and doesn’t constitute a genuine Europa model. The LS2’S bigger brother, the AS3, came with two types of seat/tank combination along with seamed and round/seamless one-piece pipes and silencers. Scandinavian fans generally hold the opinion that it’s only the round/seamless exhaust models with their smaller tanks that are the true Europa models and that the earlier seamed silencer models are pre-europa. Which may nor may not be the case with our test machine, but in reality does it honestly matter? What we have here is a true survivor, pure and simple.
The very fact that it’s from 1972 and has survived who knows how many learner riders and what abuse is cause to give thanks; most tiddlers ended life early as just so much scrap metal.
Firing up the LS2 is as simple and straightforward as it is generic. Fuel tap turned towards the engine, key in and turned one click, flick the choke lever down, then one gentle kick of the starter has the little twin bumbling away nicely. A tweak or two off the throttle and, unless it’s a cold day, the choke can be lifted almost immediately.
Once there’s some heat in the alloy cylinder heads and iron barrels, the smallest twin from the 1972 model year is happy to burble away to itself. Although totally unnecessary, tweaking the throttle now is almost a guilty pleasure. Yes, sure enough, all stroker twins make a similar sound, but they’re not all identical and the LS2 has an exhaust note that’s substantially different to the larger Yamaha twins, even the visually similar AS3. The smaller the individual cylinders the shriller the pitch, and this little chap emits one of the best exhaust notes this side of a two-stroke-only race track. The seamed silencers, like every stroker of the same genre, are
production line versions of the ubiquitous expansion chamber. Each and every Japanese two-stroke exhaust owes its existence to Walter Kaaden and the team at Zchopau, East Germany. The LS2’S pipes may not have the most precise and exact divergent and convergent cones, but what there is, is a reasoned compromise between theoretical science and production line reality... but enough text book stuff, it’s time to ride.
With every Yamaha air-cooled twin of the 1970s I’m never sure if it’s a good or a bad thing that they all seem so worryingly familiar. Detractors of the brand might say this is because the firm was unable to move on, but fans of the marque would argue the company had a successful formula, so why change it? Whether your point of reference is a round-tanked RD250A or a coffin-tanked RD400F, you’d be instantly familiar with the LS2, size and performance excepted. The tuning fork DNA is there in spades, but what’s absent are the vibrations found in the larger capacity twins. If you own a 250,350 or 400 version you could be forgiven for querying that last statement, but the fact is that even 180-degree stroker twins produce a rocking sensation, as the pistons and con-rods rapidly decelerate at the top and bottom of their strokes; the greater the reciprocating mass, the bigger the rocking couple, etc. Therefore you’d assume the LS2 would be less prone to vibration than its bigger brothers, and you’d
be correct. What I wasn’t expecting was just how smooth the little twin would be; it may not be a powerful device, but it’s unbelievably smooth. The way it dishes out its 10 or so bhp is just so sophisticated the power delivery is almost liquid. Oh and our test machine may have a little edge here. When owner Alex Warder built the bike with his dad they experienced a disaster when the ignition rotor almost instantly grenaded. Rather than risk good money on a four-decade old NOS replacement they installed a Power Dynamo ignition-cum-generator which obviously gives pinpoint accurate timing.
The gearbox is standard 1970s Yamaha and none the worse for it; each ratio drops in cleanly without effort, yet with just enough mechanical feel to let you know it has changed positively. For a machine with relatively little power, the LS2 make the most of what it has in the first four gears. The top/fifth gear acts almost as an overdrive but not quite as, given a flat road and no head wind, the blue and white pocket-rocket will continue to gradually pick up the pace. Nit-picking, if it were mine I think I’d be tempted to add an extra tooth to the rear sprocket and see if the bike would rev-out. However, it’s not mine and I’m really enjoying the experience of working the bike around the back lanes of rural Essex. Like all factory-tuned strokers, the LS2 has a sweetspot and it’s between 6000 and 7000rpm where it seems to give of its best. A measly one
“It's really surprising just how smooth this little twin is! Each gear ratio drops in cleanly without any effort. The way this bike delivers its 10bhp, it's – well – almost liquid...”
thousand revs might seem too narrow a powerband, but in real world conditions it’s actually fine. There’s sufficient accessible power to allow the rider to get a wriggle on between 40 and 60mph, and hills excepted, the bike will hold that top figure with ease. If the revs drop then just knock it down a cog and open up the taps again as the bike will take this and a lot more all-day long.
Oh, and you get to experience one of the most audacious rasping exhaust notes ever. Remember that the LS2 was designed, built and constructed as learner machine pure and simple.. .what a stunningly effective way of getting a young rider hooked on motorcycling!
Yamaha’s approach to building its leading-edge strokers of the period was obviously cost-effective, but it doesn’t feel as if the firm scrimped on the build quality of the LS2 any more than any of its peers. The suspension may be of its time but it’s entirely capable of coping with my bulk rather than that of a period teenage wraith. The handling is as good as it gets for a machine running a single down-tube and openbottomed frame, and it never feels nervous or unpredictable. As long as the engine and gearbox mounts used on this type of chassis are kept properly tightened, everything feels superbly rigid.
Despite its tiddler status, the bike’s seat is comfortable and supportive and I have to say that cheeky little hump at the rear is a cute, oblique nod to the firm’s racing heritage. Nothing on the bike to date has come over as budget and, thankfully, that extends to the brakes. Previous tiddlers from Yamaha had, on occasion, come with brakes that could only ever be described as adequate at best and thereby leading to some rather worrying moments. Both the 100cc YL1 and the 125cc AS1 were cursed with marginal methods of retardation, but not so the LS2 thankfully. Despite ‘only’ being graced with single leading shoe drums, the stopping
ABOVE: Steve loved his time on the LS2!
BELOW: Simple and clean lines make for one amazing little motorcycle. power of this bike was never in question. I end my day on Alex Walder’s regular ride chasing him as he nips tidily through the lanes on his father’s Puch M125. The ride is coming to an end and I have to admit the little twin has got under my skin. It’s so refined yet unfussy, and more than fast enough for those kids of the 70s lucky enough to have been able to ride a proper motorcycle at 16 with little or no training. Perhaps the bike’s greatest asset was that it would have sown the essential seed of brand loyalty in the minds of those kids and created a desire to trade up to something larger from the same manufacturer. Whether those teenagers had opted for a 200, 250 or 350 twin from the Yamaha range they would have found, just like me on the LS2, that they felt instantly at home but with power available. And that is a seriously neat trick to perform.