Kawasaki KL250 and Z200 four-stroke singles
Of The Big Four, it’s arguable that Kawasaki did the most with the least when it comes to early trail bikes. As Steve Cooper explains, while Kawasaki was never the largest or most prodigious of firms in its earliest days of two-wheeler production, it none
Most of the machines offered were based around finely engineered disc valve two-stroke singles that reflected the firm’s ancestry of aircraft manufacture. Similar engines with less aggressive porting found themselves powering commuter and general purpose bikes, yet Kawasaki had also made in its name and established its reputation upon antisocial, frantic and ill-handling two-stroke triples so it was a moment of supreme irony that it would be the first firm to distance itself from 2T oil and everything that it represented. However, the signs were already there in late 1972 if anyone cared to look closely enough – the all-new Z1 900 wasn’t a logical step on from the H2 750, it was an open commitment to a totally different type of technology… with poppet valves.
The second to market four-stroke
Kawasaki was the infamous Z400 of
1976 which few found either inspiring or reliable, but the firm was on a roll now and committed to a new way… for the moment at least. The 1977 model year saw the launch of a pair of four-stroke singles that were aimed at both learners and commuters. The KL250 was focused on riders who might otherwise be tempted by Honda’s XL250 or were two-stroke averse – Yamaha and Suzuki would both happily take your money with the DT250 and TS250. The Z200 was targeted directly at commuters who wanted honest-to-goodness daily transport. Both bikes featured all-new engines centred around a two-valve overhead cam motor utilising chain drive.
In essence the two motors were very similar, with the Z200 running a 66 x 58mm bore and stroke while the KL250 ran 70 x 64mm. Both motors were effectively off the same drawing board and period journos of the day would imply that the KL was effectively a bored and stroked 200, with both sharing a similar transmission. The trail bike was relatively well specified and unquestionably well styled. The gauges mimicked the outgoing triples, the rear guard aped the duck’s tail that had become a signature design and the wheel rims were high-end DID alloy. Unfortunately, it all went a little wrong when it came down to the illconsidered exhaust system. Mild steel painted satin black, it was always corrosion prone but its real Achilles heel was its routing under the engine and then twisted around the righthand rear shock absorber. In overall terms the bike was okay but in no way a serious threat to the, by then, five-year-old Honda XL250. It was down on power and up on mass.
The early KL's style can be seen in many modern 'soft-roaders'.
The Z200 was a no-frills daily rider that, fortunately, ran 12v electrics – unlike the KL, which struggled somewhat with just 6v. Gifted an electric start, the baby
Zed was scheduled to be all things to all riders and to a point it managed it… well, almost. It became rapidly apparent that there was a quality issue with the gear lever or, more particularly, with the splines on the gear change shaft. Used as a regular commuter, there was soon a long line of angry customers awaiting replacement parts and warranty-backed engine rebuilds. Another quirk of the 200 was its strange front brake which was a cable-operated disc. Very much a triumph of ambition over ability, the design rapidly seized in use and the rebuild kits supplied by dealers became infamous in the number of strange parts they contained. Last but not least, the Z200 soon earned a reputation for consuming silencers. Lots of short runs where the unit never reached full temperature allied to a relatively poor build quality soon had owners looking for viable aftermarket alternatives.
And yet such quirks from either machine were nothing when compared to the elephant in the room. Both motors ran their camshafts directly in the alloy cylinder head and, predictably, the reciprocating steel was soon munching its way into its bearing surfaces. That Kawasaki’s prototypes and test bikes hadn’t done this is a given but the sterile environment of product design and testing is often
That low-level exhaust header didn't really necessitate a side-saddle riding position.
leagues away from the reality of the real world. Infrequent oil changes and the use of inappropriate grades only exacerbated an already parlous situation. Jock Kerr Motorcycle Developments Limited rapidly became the recognised experts for repairing KL250 and Z200 cylinder heads using a rolling bearing conversion and some serious machining of various parts. Eventually Kawasaki had to acknowledge the problem existed, and later iterations of the motor featured a top end equipped with a roller bearing cam.
The original Z200 lasted just two model years before being substantially revised in 1979 and latterly had its points and coil ignition swapped for CDI. Circa 1980 the bike became the Z250 using the KL250’s motor in revised format. In this guise the bike would run for some eight years as the Z250C along with a factory custom version badged as the Z250G. The KL250 struggled on in mildly updated form into the early 1980s before being dropped with the advent of 125cc learner laws.
Other than the Z1 and Z650, Kawasaki’s first generation of four-strokes met with limited success, prompting the company to return to two-strokes such as the KMX, AR and KDX water-cooled models. It would be the late 1980s before the firm would revisit four-stroke singles with any enthusiasm.
There is no doubt whatsoever that the cost of an honest Oriental project is escalating, and prices have been on the rise for some considerable time. I know this to be a given as I am guilty as charged for intensifying the upward spiralling trend – well to a degree at least.
As one of my long-time partners in crime opines… you don’t find projects, they find you! Harbouring an unnatural but abiding passion for small bikes, it won’t come as a great surprise to read I’m a sucker for ‘yet another wretched bike’… madam’s words not mine, I hasten to add. However the lady of the house, if not equally guilty, was at least complicit in the acquisition of a tired Yamaha AS3. For those that don’t know – or care even less – it’s a piston-ported 125cc twin with the heart of a rather large lion and drop-dead gorgeous looks that few can resist.
The bike appeared on social media and the vendor even dropped my name into the sales blurb thus …. “Steve Cooper, you know you want this bike!”… or something similar. Being absorbed in some quality screen time, the inevitable question as to what I was looking at was posed and duly answered. Amazingly, not only was the potential purchase sanctioned, it was positively welcomed by the significant other… apparently a new project keeps me out of her way, etc. The only rub was the cost, which is where this column started. Although not expensive by current standards, the diminutive twin was some three times more expensive than it would have been a decade ago, but this is the market we now live in.
As you do with a new old bike, I began the inevitable parts hunt and found the experience to be both cathartic and entertaining. Of course, there’s always the chancers on eBay who want the earth for stuff, but what really impressed me was the raft of suppliers out there who can offer quality parts at sensible prices. Who would have believed that it’s even possible to buy quality conrod kits for a 1973 tiddler for sensible money – thanks YDS Parts!
Even more amazing, someone in Australia (Badge Replicas) has replicated both the
125 side panel badge and the large chrome flash that adorns the same. NOS (new old stock) cables are still out there and aren’t expensive, quality pattern indicators are readily available, and genuine Japanese main bearings of the right specification are almost too cheap to be true. Unquestionably, some stuff will be expensive such as tank badges but, on balance, I’ve been pleasantly surprised so far.
The other money pit – sorry, project – is a Suzuki TS400 that simply pulled me into its gravitational field of desire. Effectively an almost finished restoration, it would have been rude to say no, to be honest. Once again the process of buying the few parts required to finish the bike has proved to be gratifyingly pleasant. The missing ignition switch turned up at Crooks Suzuki for sensible money and the supposedly iniquitous eBay divvied up a brand new throttle cable at one-third the cost of the new one Suzuki still offers, and good old Wemoto holds EBC brake shoes in stock.
All of the above tells us something, providing we want to hear it. While running and fettling any old bike is never cheap, it’s still possible to buy a non-running Japanese bike for nigh on sensible money and fettle it – but only if you use your head. Aspire to Kettle, H2, RD400, Z1 etc. ownership and you are indeed likely to come away from the experience with a seriously jaundiced opinion. However, if you look for a left field choice, gently manage your expectations and do some research on parts availability before committing your hard-earned, then the chances are you’ll come away smiling, not scowling.