❙ YAMAHA RD350
Scoop may have finished his twin stroker.
he very fact I’ve not reported back on the early 1973 Yamaha RD350 for a while could be taken any number of ways.
It’s nothing bad. In fact I’ve done little else but ride it. Obviously the editor of this august organ has to juggle many articles so this latest episode was written some time ago. Either way I’ve not fallen out of love with the bike.
Even after the inevitable winter lay-ups, once the battery is given a quick boost this grand old dame fires up ready for another season of geriatric mayhem. The Power Dynamo alternator coupled to the Zeeltronic black box collectively delivers big, fat, juicy sparks and since swapping to Shell V-power (other premium grade fuels are available) I don’t even bother emptying the carbs or tank – happy days.
Following the installation of fork emulators allied to the upgraded shocks, the RD350 has handled so much better than it did originally. The ride may be just a fraction too firm at town speeds but when, in the name of two-strokes, did anyone buy a Yamaha RD anything to ride slowly? Yes, precisely. You can now genuinely feel how taut the ‘Race Derived’ chassis is, which ought to be a good thing. Well, it would be if only the brakes were up to the job. Finding that, thanks to the enhanced ride characteristics, I was entering some of my favourite bends a good 10mph faster than before highlighted the deficit in this area.
This led me to seriously consider one of the period, if unofficial, Yamaha upgrades. Back in the 70s it was not uncommon to see 350s sporting TX/XS500 front wheels and left-hand fork leg. This ‘in-house’ tweak added a second disc/caliper combination which, when combined with the half-litre’s master cylinder, effected decent braking from speed. Unfortunately, it also added a lot of mass as well as a mandatory wheel rebuild. Now you could negate some of the additional weight by skimming a couple of millimetres off the discs and drilling them, but you’ll have to excuse me here if I don’t seem too keen at the concept. Drilling and skimming Yamaha’s Kryptonite-like stainless steel requires a decently equipped engineering shop and a panoply of drill and cutting bits plus a large slice of time/money.
Thinking laterally I began some research as to what modern brake materials were available for the old school calipers. The really helpful people at SBS reckoned their 504HF ceramic friction material was the one to choose and Steve Jago, boss of Webbs of Peterborough, ordered me up a pair for very sensible money. A morning on the tools had the old, organic pads out and the new SBS pads installed. What a difference! Seriously, the feel, power and feedback were phenomenal right from the off and those Scandinavian Brake Systems pads are truly the business when mated to 70s stainless disc rotors. I recommend them to the house without reservation!
One niggling issue that was present even before I’d ridden the bike was the way the rear right lower seat covering rubbed the top shock mount. Assuming the seat rubbers were shot I swapped out the existing ones for some deeper ones I found in the shed. Ultimately a pointless exercise as they did nothing for the vinyl’s preservation, just made the seat harder to latch down. Words with a fellow Yamorak delivered several sets of Yamaha seat hinges for ongoing experimentation. Hard to believe I grant you, but by fitting a pair of alternative hinges just a fraction taller on their pivot faces, the seat fitted and closed without issue.
Without question the bike’s original cosmetics were better than many of similar vintage but the outer engine case covers were somewhat on the well-weathered side of scruffy. Knowing just how easy it is to inadvertently scuff a case when changing gear or kick starting, I’d concluded a rattle can renovation wouldn’t be robust enough. Therefore I managed to locate and purchase a set of early 1973 outer cases which were then dropped off with Mark Dunford of High Calibre Coatings. The old transmission case came off after a bit of jiggery-pokery, but eviction of the original gasket took ages even with the application of proper, rip-your-eyes-out, paint stripper. Sympathetically blast cleaned, Mark applied satin black Cerakote paint to deliver a really good, hard-wearing coating. Suitably equipped with oils seals and gasket, both cases were duly swapped out and treated to a new set of fasteners, replacing the hotchpotch of cap head and butchered crossheads. You’ll excuse me if I abstain from using period correct, passivated, green screws but, frankly, I’d much rather see bright zinc than olive drab any day! With the correct decals from our good friends at Yambits carefully installed the cases looked substantially better.
The paintwork of the bike was OEM finish and before anyone steps up to their soapbox the bike and panels are correct for a 1973 RD350(A) which is most emphatically not the same as a 1974 RD350A… trust me on this one please! The dark ruby red paint probably looks grand in the Californian sunshine but we don’t get much of that in Blighty and the old girl does tend to look a bit drab most of the time. Trawling the internet for inspirations I finally fell upon a Japanese domestic market brochure for the same model year and was instantly obsessed by the colour of the 250 which is the same hue as my much lamented RD200 – Virginia Gold (00M4) was ‘The One!’ The other reason for changing the tank was that the original only held some 11 litres of fuel which made a 100-mile trip a little
fraught looking for petrol stations. The larger replacement tank holds a much more viable 16 litres. If you’ve not tried finding spare panels for a round tanked RD I’d respectfully suggest you don’t; it’s both laborious and expensive. However, thanks to mates, autojumbles and word of mouth a full replacement kit of panels was obtained and shipped off to my soon-tobe-retiring painters. They’re not mega cheap or super-fast but, bloody hell they are good! The tank badges are OEM items I found cheapish on ebay, but the side panel ‘350’ chappies are reproductions from Badge Replicas in Australia.
Fitting new paint kit is, for me at least, both a pain and joy. There’s the ever present worry that something will get chipped or scratched, yet the end result is always worth the hassle.
The side-panels were fitted in minutes, the oil-tank took an hour, but the headlamp and brackets… just how much time can a job take? Wiring, clocks, hydraulics, brackets, rubbers, trim parts; the process took forever but at least it’s done, even if the headlight rim chose to have an argument with the freshly painted headlight shell! My profound thanks to my very good mate Wayne Allen for giving up his Friday evening to assist with sorting out Satan’s String, aka the rat’s nest behind the headlight.
Next up on the paint kit front was the tank which took much longer to populate with the various fittings than might be expected. Modern fuel really doesn’t like paint and I’ve seen numerous resprayed bikes with blistering paint around the fuel tap where petrol has eaten away the paint and gone beyond the seal. Therefore I took the radical decision to carefully cut back the paint to bear metal; it may not be pretty but to date there’s no sign of any paint lifting. The filler cap hinges on a 3mm pin secured with an E-clip and is an easy fix once any paint is evicted from the mounting holes. Likewise, the lock mechanism is a simple swap over with just a single screw. What took the time was persuading the second 3mm pin through the two mounts and the spring-loaded cap clasp mechanism.
Two hours, two hellish, frustrating, dear-god-please-don’t-let-me-scratch-thepaint hours were lost fighting the tiny, but remarkably strong spring of the clasp. Thankfully SWMBO was on hand to assist, add masking tape to key areas and stop me losing my patience. Quite why Yamaha saw fit to make both the cap mount and sprung clasp out of super-soft alloy is anyone’s guess, but it does mean you have to be super-gentle fitting that wretched pin!
Fitting the freshly painted Virginia Gold tank was a breeze other than having to take the seat off to get sufficient clearance. With the two carbs attached to the tap with a new, official, Yamaha, ethanol tolerant fuel pipe and the link pipe installed underneath it was time to fire up and go for a ride on the cosmetically refreshed RD. It’s genuinely amazing what a difference the larger tank made to the ride initially and it took a while getting used to its width. Plotting up at the local Shell garage a random motorist walked up and commented how smart the bike looked and then someone else said similar at a set of traffic lights. I was beginning to feel quietly pleased with the RD’S transformation. And then when I was shooting the accompanying shots on a quiet country road a youngish guy in a car stopped and actually commented: “I know jack about bikes fella but that is stunning!” Isn’t it amazing what a fresh paint job can do for an old bike!
So I’m not the only that’s impressed with the RD350 then! The plan now is just to ride it and enjoy it… which is surely what they’re for? The bike will probably remain work in progress for the foreseeable as there’s still a lot of tidying up to do, but I doubt I’ll ever strip it down completely to its component parts and restore it.
The bars would benefit from being replated, as would the silencers as they have battery acid scars, but where do you stop? If I end up carrying out anything serious to the old girl you can bet you’ll hear about it here in CMM.