A Buyer’s Pleasant Surprise

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Back sometime around the year 2002, I had an ad running on our local Craigslist in the Boston area that stated, “I buy motorcycles.” Although I spelled out that I was interested mostly in older Japanese and European street bikes- and I got a number of good ones from my ad- occasionally I would have someone contact me with something newer.

One day I got a call from a guy who said he had a 1994 Yamaha FZR1000. He was moving out of state and really needed to get rid of it. But there was one catch. It had to be gone by that night. He had parked the bike in his shed about two years earlier and now, though it had a new battery and would crank like mad, it wouldn’t start.

Sadly, I kept no photos of my bike. These are from Bringatrailer.com, and it’s nearly identical to mine.

Before he even told me what he wanted for it, I told the guy I really wasn’t interested in a non-running, 4-cylinder Japanese motorbike. I had owned many of them and once they sit too long with bad gas in them the carbs have to come off, and I always struggled to get them running right. I distinctly remember telling him that in some cases I had cleaned and rebuilt the carbs on a 4- cylinder Japanese motorcycle as many as four times, and even though I know what I’m doing and have good equipment such as ultrasonic jewelry cleaners, they still don’t run like they should.

He said, “Look, I am moving tomorrow and I HAVE to get rid of this bike.” He added that it had super low miles (under 4000), was in perfect physical condition and had never been dropped, and that he had a bunch of parts and accessories that would also go along with it. He was asking $2800. I said I could not do it. He then came back at $2000. I said it sounded like a great deal but not for me. He pleaded. I again said “no.” He then asked me in total desperation if I would be interested in it for $1000. I asked if he had a clear title in his name, in-hand. He assured me that he did. Finally I relented and said, “Okay. I’ll buy it.” He told me where he lived which was about 20 miles away, and restated that I had to get it that night.

Super clean instruments, like mine.

So that evening, my then 14 year-old daughter Christy and I grabbed my motorcycle ramp and threw it in the back of our Dodge pickup and we headed over there. It was a neat little house with a shed in the back. The guy greeted us, and took us out back to the shed that was in a well-lit area connecting to his driveway. He opened the doors and rolled out a perfectly clean and new-looking black with multi-colored graphics Yamaha FZR1000. He then dragged out three or four large boxes of stuff that went with it. He started showing me what was in the boxes and it was pretty crazy.

There were a couple of helmets, a quality riding jacket, rain suits, new tires (even though the bike had brand new tires on it), a bike cover, oil, new oil filters, new air filters, new spark plugs, various bags that would attach to the bike, a different windshield, etc. I can’t even remember all of the stuff, but it had to be at least $3000-4000 worth. So I paid the guy with ten $100 bills, he signed the title, and the three of us pushed it up my ramp into the bed of the Dodge. We set the boxes back there, too. And even though it didn’t run and I wasn’t looking forward to getting into those carbs or whatever else it needed, I felt pretty good about my purchase. We tied the bike down in the bed of the truck and were on our way.

A few miles from the seller’s house, we had to stop for gas. By now the sun was completely down and I hooked up the thirsty Dodge to the gasoline pump. For whatever reason, I jumped into the back of the truck and turned the key on the bike and everything lit up. I notched the shifter back into neutral and hit the starter button. To my complete surprise, it fired right up and idled smoothly! My mind was blown. I opened the gas tank lid. The bike was simply out of fuel! What had apparently happened is when we rolled the bike up the ramp, the little bit of gas left in the tank all ran down to where the petcock was located. And voila—surprise—a sip of gasoline made it run! I filled the tank with some high test right then and there, and Christy and I drove home. She helped me unload it and I grabbed my helmet and took it for a quick spin on the roads near our house. It rode like a new bike.

Imagine the sheer shock of thumbing the starter on this in the bed of my truck, and it firing right up. All it needed was some gas. And I got it all for $1000.

In the days that followed, I got the bike registered at the DMV and put some miles on it. You have to remember that back then, while I did know quite a bit about bikes from the 60s and 70s, I didn’t know a lot about “newer” bikes. I had owned a few newer bikes, even Yamahas, but they were mostly smaller ones. I had a friend who was a Yamaha dealership mechanic, and he had an R1 that he turned into a street fighter. I had ridden it, and that was probably the fastest stock motorcycle I had ever been on. So I knew this bike would have to be fast as well. But to say I was blown away is an understatement. The FZR1000 was the fastest motorcycle I had ever owned. My highly modified ‘72 Kawasaki H2 was fast and scary, and my 850 Norton ran pretty good, but they were nothing compared to that 148 horsepower, 20-valve, 461-lb 1000 cc monster.

 What a sweet motorcycle. I wish I had kept mine now, of course.

It had what Yamaha called “EXUP,” a servo-motor-driven exhaust valve that improved gas flow at high engine speeds. And it felt like it had a turbo charger when that EXUP kicked in. At 120-125 mph, you would get a sudden burst of power that took you to 135 at what felt like someone shoving you in the back at an accelerating rate. It was different from anything I had ever experienced, that’s for sure!

I kept that bike for probably three years, and even let Christy ride it to high school after she turned 16 and got her motorcycle permit. I had 10-20 motorcycles at the time back then, so it only got ridden so much. I sold it (and a pristine metallic orange 2002 Honda GL1800 I bought new) to our local Honda dealer in 2005, shortly after we moved from the Boston area to Northwest Arkansas. The owner gave me for $3400 for the Yammie, which I thought was pretty fair at the time. Like most bikes from my past, I now wish I had never sold it!

Anyone else have experience with the old FZR1000 bikes? Drop a comment down below!

Mark Zweig

*All photos by BringATrailer.com