MEET THE MIDDLE MAN
Back in the day, Suzuki’s middleweight two-stroke was more expensive than a 380 and had half the street cred of a 750 superbike. Paul Miles muses whether it’s a misunderstood masterpiece or merely midsize mush…
When Suzuki launched their range of threecylinder bikes in 1972, the clear intention was to create a family of machines that appealed to the widest possible audience. Like the bikes being built by arch-rivals Kawasaki, they were all two-strokes, a proven and popular technology, and something with which Suzuki already had considerable amounts of experience. Starting with the delightful GT380 in the ultra-competitive 350-400cc class, and culminating with the imposing water-cooled GT750 superbike, Suzuki were well placed to compete with new designs that distinguished themselves from their then-current twins.
Suzuki also had a model slap bang in the middle, the GT550 triple. The early 1970s were an odd time for the Japanese factories. Ranges tended to be well-stocked in the ‘up to the 400cc’ range and the CB750/4, GT750 and H2 covered the superbike market. Yamaha had yet to release anything beyond the Triumph-aping XS650, and there was precious little in the hitherto popular 500-650 range. For sure, Honda pedalled their sohc CB500/550S and Kawasaki continued to offer their somewhat strangled 500 triples, but mid-capacity machines were generally overlooked both by those who could afford the biggest and by the rest of us who could only get insurance for smaller engines.
As a consequence, the Suzuki GT550 and its four-banger cousin, Honda’s CB550, were pretty much in a class of their own, the forgotten mid-capacity motorcycles. Bigger and more expensive than popular 350s, yet smaller and less powerful than 750 superbikes, these middle market machines were largely overlooked on the dealership floors at
the time. Today they’re still – to some extent – victims of that indifference. If you grew up lusting after a 380 or 750, then why would you spend your pension pot on something that was generally ignored when new?
Owned by local VMCC rider Paulw, this 550 was bought to replace his GT250 that had been purchased on a whim but proved too small, in both size and capacity, to be suitable for longer rides. The 1975 GT550M was brought over from a dry USA to a wetlands nowhere near its birthplace and is very representative of the model.
Changes throughout the six year run of the triples were mostly limited to cosmetic efforts an minor weaks. y the mid-70s the styling had been modernised with a disc front brake ungaitered forks, the efficient Ram Air cowling (have you ever known a Suzuki to seize?) was streamlined and the GT acquired the feature we never knew we before, a digital gear indicator!
The essence of the motorcycle remained same. The undersquare, piston-ported was developed for torque and not peak so a relatively modest 53bhp-ish(claims remained the stated factory output its life. Comparing that to the 37 of the 380 and a full-on 70bhp from the the 550 was middling. Same went for the too. Around 200kg whirred beneath GT550 rider, approximately 17kg more than the smaller 380, but a whopping 40kg lighter than the feted 750. In true Goldilocks style, the GT550 sat slap in the middle. Was it just right or just porridge?
Manhandling the triple around the garage, it feels more like the smaller model than the 750, with none of the big bike’s massive bulk and sticky-out radiator. Straddling the 550 is akin to the 380 experience: a 350-class machine that felt like a ‘proper bike.’
Starting a two-stroke should be straightforward – and so it proved. Trusting the always-on vacuum tap, a single gentle prod was only ever necessary to fire up this, the largest two-stroke air-cooled engine Suzuki ever made. Or you could just press a button, because the
550 always came with an electric start!
The 550 was capable of prodigious mileages, and engine failures were extremely rare from this modestly tuned motor, but the one source of concern lay with the starter setup. Early models suffered issues with starter clutches, eliminated in later versions by an uprated Borg-warner clutch design. This fully rebuilt motor worked perfectly, as you might have expected. Old hands still kick the bike into life when cold though, no point in overstressing such ancient technology.
It burbles quietly away through the four standard exhausts. Suzuki claimed better low end torque by splitting the centre pipe into two, but we all know the real reason was to make the motor look more like a four. The GT idled perfectly and didn’t even seem to smoke. Requiring only five speeds, compared to six of the 380, the Suzuki rode like, well, a 1970s Suzuki. Typically high bars, footrests just a fraction too far forwards, clear instrumentation, the best clutch ever fitted to any motorcycle ever: it all felt reassuringly familiar. But unlike just about any of the other two-strokes of the time, the middleeverything GT delivered oceans of delicious torquey thrust, with none of the peaky powerbands associated with 70s stinkwheels.
Riding a Yamaha or Kawasaki oil-burner back then was all about speed and aggression, lifting the front wheel away from the traffic lights and generally going everywhere as fast as possible. This Suzuki’s DNA was somewhat different, more Gran Turismo. The only easy way to lift the front end on a Suzuki triple was by using a hoist, with the 380 the most willing, unthinkable on the 750, and the 550 – you’ve guessed it – somewhere in the middle. A sporting ride in the fashion of smoky street racers it is not. There’s nothing to be gained by riding along at 50mph in third gear, tripping on the edge of the
powerband and ready to blast, because there is no powerband. Rather it’s just an uncannily smooth wave of power that pushes you on.
Once rolling, you barely need to change gear, either, such is the flexibility from the rubbermounted engine. With no vibration to speak of, 25mph in top gear is perfectly acceptable. As is 70 / 80 or even 90 miles in every hour, the GT delivers a huge wedge of usable real-world power in a comfortable package that devours long distances. Of course, you’d need to stop for petrol every 100 miles or so because, despite giving a fair impersonation of a middleweight six-cylinder four-stroke engine, it’s actually a gas-guzzling smoking dinosaur that drinks a gallon of petrol every thirty miles or so. Consider this fair warning.
Handling is helped by the fitment of modern Hagon shocks and 21st century tyres. Today’s rider would be unlikely to encounter any great demons hiding in the chassis, either. Brakes too, are a typically 1970s – single disc front / drum rear combo; efficient without being outstanding.
So, should you consider one as a
Realclassic ride today? Well, yes. Prices of all 70s stuff are roaring ahead, with twostrokes leading the charge. The GT550, very much the bridesmaid compared with the glamorous 750, remains vaguely affordable and especially so in import form – Suzuki sold lots in the USA. The engines themselves are as bulletproof as anything of the era, but any 50 year-old two-stroke might be wanting a crank rebuild by now, a not inconsiderable expense.
Furthermore, if you want your P&J to more closely resemble a stock bike like this, but the
one you’ve bought has expansion chambers and a cut-down saddle, then I’d advise selling it on immediately and spending more time (and money) finding the best example you can afford. Back in the day when they were just cheap old bikes, riders would throw away the heavy stock exhausts along with the centre stands and fit noisy exhausts. Joining them in the bin would be the standard indicators, bars, mirrors, lights and seats.
Replacing these parts now is largely a matter of finding them for sale in the first place before outbidding all the other global enthusiasts who may just want them more than you. Think in terms of TWO THOUSAND POUNDS for a complete exhaust system, a grand for the clocks and even the locking petrol cap will set you back a couple of hundred quid. This remains the curse of the Japanese classic motorcycle: standard examples require model and year specific parts, which five decades on can be difficult to find.
Pay a little more up-front for a nice clean example and you’ll be rewarded with a comfortable, reliable Japanese classic that can top the ton and with a twist of the throttle you can throw four rods of smoke out at pesky tailgaters, leaving them literally eating your fumes. It’ll gleam like a diamond in the sunshine if you keep the chrome polished and is amongst the most practical of classic Japanese two-strokes to own.
Will the 550 cost more than a 380? Yes: it’s a bigger, better bike. Will it garner as much attention as a GT750? No, the Kettle is the glamour puss of the range, you’ll just have to live with the indifference. A nice, stock bike like this will currently cost between £6000 and £8000 on average; a little more than the 380 and a bit less than the 750. In everything, Suzuki’s GT550 sits right in the middle.