HUBBA HUBBA!
“The GTS is an alternative sort of bike, which needs time to appreciate and then to savour. There’s quite a bit to get your head around – not only that front-end! So, it’s unfair to sum the bike up after one quick spin.”
In these days of instant gratification there’s an ever increasing obligation to assess stuff, well, instantly. But the modern way of drawing a conclusion from first impressions definitely isn’t advised with Yamaha’s GTS1000. No, understanding this bike needs a considerably lengthier term.
My run on this one came a bit out of the blue. I’d nipped along to the HQ of the Yamaha FJ Owners Club in Wiltshire to meet boss Phil Hacker. The plan was to test a selection of his bikes, but I hadn’t really expected to get to sample the hub centre-steered 90s classic.
When I did get aboard it, I almost wished I hadn’t. For all its fascinating technology (which made us all think it was ahead of its time in 1993), I couldn’t help but sneer in disapproval.
Okay, so it still stands out, but what a huge and heavy motorbike! Any supposed advantage of the funny front-end, helping to isolate the suspension from braking forces and maintain consistent chassis geometry, seemed purely academic. The GTS just felt like some dated, overweight has-been (a bit like me). I reckon there’s little point in featuring any clever techy stuff if what it’s attached to seems so basically flawed. No wonder the bloody thing had failed completely and sold in very small numbers (just 300 in 1993 alone and the web shows just six in the UK). Let’s face it, if you can’t get the design basics right then there’s no chance
