1977 Suzuki GT-750B LeMans

We vintage motorcycle enthusiasts have a strange habit of referencing our aging motorcycles as if they were living beings. You’ll hear us say things like, “She’s certainly cold-blooded in the mornings, that’s for sure,” or “That motor sings such a beautiful song at red line!”

Brand spanking new motorcycles also can prompt us to mix metaphors, which might explain why Cycle magazine’s editors referred to the Suzuki GT-750K LeMans in their May 1973 road test as a bike that was “schizophrenic.” Suzuki engineers gave the bike, then in its second year of production, what Cycle described as “a massive dual-disc front brake,” a feature that also happened to be an industry first. Armed with an exceptionally large brake swept area, the double-disc setup allowed for responsive “right-now!” stopping performance similar to that of a bona fide road race bike. They also gave it a powerful 738cc two-stroke three-cylinder engine that served up a smooth, docile ride. In response, the editors positioned the 550-pound  Suzuki somewhere between a sport bike and a touring bike, concluding that the big bike “wavers mid-way between conforming more closely with the image projected by its road racing counterpart, and a more sedate kinship with the milder BMWs and H-D’s Electra Glide.” (Author’s note: The accompanying sidebar to this feature helps explain the “road racing counterpart” reference, and keep in mind that back in 1973 BMWs and Harleys were considered the industry’s consummate touring bikes.)

There’s another “living” metaphor that found its way into the GT-750 camp; from 1972 through 1977 Suzuki’s largest displacement model retained the nicknames “Water Buffalo” in America and “Kettle” in England. Both monikers paid homage to the engine’s water-cooling feature, a rarity for motorcycles at the time. At the core of the bike’s watering system, and positioned directly behind the front wheel, sat an aluminum radiator measuring 9.45″ x 7.0″, and 2.32″ thick. It was enough to keep the big two-stroke engine running cool as a cucumber (there’s that metaphor again!) under all riding conditions.

In fact, the engine’s water cooling system proved especially effective from the get-go. Cycle Guide‘s editor, Bob Braverman and Technical Consultant/former AMA Expert road racer, Walt Fulton Jr., took their 1972 GT-750 test bike to Orange County International Raceway where they put it through a 6-hour marathon track test, after which the editors wrote: “The [engine] temperature got up to about the middle of the scale [gauge] and never wavered one way or the other. It remained there for the entire six hours.” Now that’s cool.

That big two-stroke triple also offered plenty of pulling power, but its best touring attribute focused elsewhere within the bike’s tangible amenities. Wrote D. Randy Riggs in his tour test for Cycle World (November 1973): “If there could be only one word to describe the GT-750, it would have to be smooth,” (CW‘s italics) in reference to the Water Buffalo’s sedate power delivery.

Perhaps, but in Perhaps, but in terms of full-on performance, it definitely would be the big bike’s braking abilities (that is, after the 1973 front brake swap to dual discs) that put it ahead of the field in terms of stopping performance. Cycle Guide‘s GT-750 road test, featured in the August 1974 issue, included the big bike’s brake test from 60mph-to-0, revealing an amazing stopping distance of 117’9″, which  happened to be CG’s best-ever brake-test stopping distance at that point in the magazine’s history. Not until 1980, when testing the remarkable Suzuki GS-1100E, did Cycle Guide better that mark, the landmark four-stroke model posting a remarkable stopping distance of 116’ by the editors. That bike, too, had two front discs.

Brand New?

Before we dig further into the GT-750’s  history, let’s be clear that our featured GT-750B, a black (a color that Suzuki termed 019 Black that included a blue cast to its color tone) 1977 model, was only recently restored by Owen Bishop at Moto41 Restorations in Santa Ana, California (www.moto41.com). The bike looks 1977 fresh, but rest assured, it was originally bought from the Suzuki dealer on Ventura Boulevard in Thousand Oaks, California,  in that same year by Glen Humphrey. Glen eventually put 34,000-plus  miles on it before parking the big Suzuki in his home garage for its long-term slumber. Years later, Glen decided to sell it, reluctantly placing a for-sale ad on Craigslist, which Owen promptly acted on. The Suzuki was for sale, but Glen would only sell it under one condition.

“I was only allowed to buy the bike,” recalls Owen, ” if I promised to give him (Glen) first refusal if I ever was to sell it.” Owen added. “The bike was complete, beaten up, and showing its age,” right down to the well-worn and faded blue California license plate, which Owen left untouched for the restoration. “That’s something I do for all my restorations,” Owen explained. “The license plate is part of the bike’s history, so I leave them untouched. Plus, after the restoration, it gives an indication of the bike’s ‘original’ condition.” However, Owen made clear that the bike’s aged license plate frame was actually culled from his own collection of “used parts,” to add to the bike’s authenticity.

The Suzzy’s full restoration took about a year to complete at his shop: “The Quail was the goal,” he pointed out, and he finished in time to cop first place, Japanese Motorcycle Class, at the 2022 Quail gathering. It was Owen’s fourth Quail award, the other three being a 1976 Yamaha XT500 (First, 2017), a rather rare 1968 Yamaha YAS1C 125cc two-stroke twin (Runner-up trophy, 2018), and a 1974 Kawasaki H1E (First, 2019). No surprise, Glen, who shuttled his family with him to The Quail in hopes of witnessing the big Suzuki scoring an award, immediately offered to buy back his “old” bike from Owen! Only this time Owen had the final word, saying with mock humor: “I’ll sell it, but only if you take care of ‘my’ bike.” Done deal!

Back in the Day

Clearly, too, Glen must have taken good care of the bike “back in the day” because when Owen first looked inside the engine, its internals were in surprisingly good condition, although he rebuilt the bike’s crankshaft anyway, replacing all the crank seals – a common restoration fix for aging two-stroke engines. Otherwise there was little need to spend time digging into the engine’s nether regions. In fact, the engine’s three cylinders checked in with 170 psi compression! He retained the original pistons, but gave them new rings just to make sure compression remained 170. He also used original Suzuki parts and hardware when required, and he freshened up all its JIS hardware, plus he chased down special items such as locating the correct “Liquid Cooled” black decal for the cylinders. That level of detail was followed throughout.

Owen can also thank some of Suzuki’s engineers for creating a strong engine in the first place, and for them correcting any shortcomings that the engine experienced shortly after its debut in 1972. For instance, sometime during the GT-750’s first year in production, a minor oil circulation problem led engineers to reroute the Suzuki Recycle Injection System’s (SRIS) plumbing. Apparently, when the engine was shut off, excess oil would drain from the upper cylinders and collect down low in the engine cases. After the bike sat for a period of time, the pooled oil would, upon engine fire up, blow a huge billowing cloud of smoke out the four mufflers. Rerouting the oil lines solved the problem, and the following year (1973), the engine reported for duty sporting a new drain port with a check valve and transfer tube in the base of each crank chamber to allow oil from the two outer cylinders to drain into a single centrally located catch. Result: Only a single, and short lived, cloud of smoke after initial fire up developed and then, according to Cycle’s report, “the exhaust stays fairly clear [for the ride].”

“But wait!” you say, “This is a three-cylinder bike, but you just now mentioned four mufflers. What gives?”

Indeed, this is a three-cylinder engine, and almost magically the three header pipes mysteriously morph themselves into four seemingly separate mufflers, the transition taking place somewhere beneath the engine’s gorgeous bare aluminum engine cases and cylinders. And to sidebar for a moment, Owen made sure that when he restored the engine (as noted, the internals were, for the most part, fresh as when the bike was new!), he made certain that the engine’s aluminum outer surfaces looked exactly as they did the day this bike rolled off the assembly line in Hamamatsu, Japan. To do that, Owen sourced an NOS stator cover that was fresh-looking as the day it was made in 1974 “so I could match its original brushed and lacquered finish for the restoration.” As he explained, “I buffed each case with a cotton wheel, leaving proper wheel brush marks as they appeared when new. I also took care to leave casting marks and imperfections in places where the polishing wheel could not reach, again as they originally were when new.” He followed that with a “thin coat of clear lacquer.”

By the late 1970s, the quality of tire wear and grip were improving at a rapid rate. And so, confident that the old Suzuki’s original tire formula was suitable for 21st-Century riding, Owen chased down Dunlop’s original-spec replacement tires available in Japan, and had a set shipped to California.

Owen pointed out that the frame was painted gloss black, not powder coated,  and a fresh coat of what Suzuki labeled 019 Black paint covers the proper body parts such as the gas tank. Finally, Suzuki’s 291 Semi Black paint coats the side covers and headlamp ears and bucket for a near perfect restoration.

That restoration complete, the Quail trophy in hand, and the bike back to its original owner, life appears to be good for the Humphrey household, Owen Bishop and Moto41 Restorations. And of course, for this black 1977 Water Buffalo itself. It’s enough to make you pause and wonder: If she could talk, what might she say to us…? MC

Defending Suzuki’s Honor, the TR750

There was no reason for Suzuki to convert a trio of new GT-750 road bikes into road racers for the 1972 Daytona 200. After all, the GT-750 was, by and large, a bike intended for daily rides and long-distance touring. But not for winning 200-mile road races.

However, honor was at stake; Suzuki was the motorcycle marque that, in 1969, made history when Art Baumann, rode a TR-500 Titan to become the first racer to win an AMA Grand National road race on a two-stroke bike. But by 1971 Kawasaki had been competing in AMA road races with a squadron of H1R two-stroke triples, and Dick Mann had won the 1970 Daytona 200 on Honda’s CB-750. Suzuki had to respond, and besides, there were rumors of a Yamaha four-cylinder two-stroke in the wind.

Suzuki answered with the TR-750, a contender based on the new street-going GT-750. The development team included Suzuki’s former Isle of Man and Japanese GP winner, Mitsuo Itoh. Plans were to build a pair of test bikes for American rider Jody Nicholas and expatriated Englishman Ron Grant to test in Japan. Nicholas had won two AMA Grand National road races, and Grant enjoyed a long-standing relationship developing and converting Suzuki’s X6 Hustler 250 and later the TS-500 Titan for AMA competition. Their input to the project was invaluable.

“Suzuki flew Ron and me to Japan for testing,” recalls Nicholas, noting, too, that a broken throttle cable had caused Grant to crash during initial testing. Nicholas forged on, logging some valuable track time. His recollection about his first ride on the TR-750: “It was a handful.” Plain and simple, the culprit was “too much power!”

Eventually, Suzuki fielded three bikes for the 1972 Daytona 200, and Nicholas and Grant were joined by the ever aggressive Baumann. Their bikes were excessively fast, enough so that their Dunlop tires couldn’t keep up with them. Simply, the rear Dunlop road racing tires overheated and began to shred.

Even so, Nicholas had posted a top speed in excess of 170 mph, the first racer to ever do so on the infamous 31-degree banking, and Baumann qualified fastest to earn pole position for the 200-miler. Meanwhile, Dunlop said the speeds were too dangerous, opting out for fear that the TR-750’s tires wouldn’t last. Goodyear stepped in with a much harder tire compound to combat the heat. Would it be enough?

Turns out that it wasn’t enough. After leading the initial laps, mechanical trouble dropped Baumann out of the race, leaving Nicholas to take the lead, which he maintained until a flat rear tire forced him off the track, leaving Don Emde and his smaller, slower, and more reliable Yamaha TR3 350 twin to win.

The next AMA National was held on the twisty Road Atlanta road course where, in dramatic fashion, Nicholas and his TR-750 separated from the field for a runaway win. However, AMA’s tech inspector, Charlie Watson, disqualified Jody’s bike because of a technical infraction concerning the engine’s cylinder head configuration.

But as Cook Neilson penned in his race report for Cycle magazine, “Jody’s ride was an exhibition of speed and skill: Jody Nicholas won Road Atlanta, and won because he went faster than the other guys in the race, and because he didn’t screw up on a course that walloped everyone who didn’t know exactly what they were doing.”

Perhaps the darkest day for the TR-750 happened during a private tire test session shortly before the 1975 Daytona 200. Future 500cc World Champion Barry Sheene was clocked at 174 mph right when his TR-750’s rear tire exploded, and for the next few seconds, he tumbled down the track at 174 mph (the first man to do so), sustaining serious injury in the process. At the end of the 1975 season, Suzuki announced that it was withdrawing from AMA competition to concentrate on International Grand Prix racing. With that the TR-750 was retired. A few years later, Suzuki returned to support AMA’s new Superbike competition with its GS-1000 and later the fabled GSXR-750.