First ride: Kawasaki W800SE

The W800 is Kawasaki’s tribute to its W1 series of the mid-’60s. And I’m guessing that statement is breaking news to you, me and just about everyone at Triumph. Yup, paint a Union Jack on the tank (and spread some gearbox oil on the ground underneath it) and you’d fool most of the population into thinking that it was one of Hinkley’s original wayward sons.

Back when free love wasn’t the name of a porn website, bike design was constrained by the relative infancy of glass and plastic manufacture, meaning that most bikes had a round headlight, metal mudguards and a fairly uniform look. Hence the, “Is that a Triumph?” questioning just about everywhere you park the W800.

And with the only Kawasaki branding on the bike to be found printed across the back of the ribbed seat, it seems that the Japanese aren’t shy of playing off the iconic British brand’s image.

But just how relevant is a bike with 50-year-old roots today? Back then, the ultimate was to have a bike capable of the heady heights of the ‘Ton’ (100mph, or 160km/h). If you could manage that, then your place in local folklore was cemented. Now it gets you ‘company’ in the showers at the Big House. How far we’ve come.

We might be regressing as individuals in society, but the Kawasaki remains current. With a disc front end, modern electrics and Japanese engineering, it’s a safer bet than the original.

The bike is pretty small, with the high front end dominating the landscape. The large headlight sits forward and proud, giving plenty of room between it and the 19-inch front wheel, metal guard and gaitered forks. That gives it quite an aggressive ‘speed’ look, often played on by those line drawing sales ads back in the day. Just add a piss-pot lid, glass goggles, silk scarf and a ‘59’ patch to your black leather jacket and you’re back at the popular dawn of technology.

Modern eyes will scan the scene from the hi-lo (not quite a king and queen affair) saddle and spot the differences that the years have brought. Small details like the printed symbols on the switchgear (rather than the indented and painted ones of yesteryear), and the digital insert in the 180km/h speedo’s face might put the purists off, but the fact that everything works will give you peace of mind in a rainstorm 100km from home.

The parallel-twin mill is as readable as a Wiggles book. There are no surprises with this engine to catch out the throttle jockey in charge. The real juice of this engine is sweetest before the tacho needle hits 3500rpm (peak torque’s done by 2500rpm). That sees 100km/h (in top) and that’s where the bike likes to cruise, with the bevel-drive whirr as a constant soundtrack.

Past that, the bike feels increasingly buzzy for no real performance gain. It becomes a bike to be seen on – and the slower you go the more people will see you. To that extent, the engine (at 773cc since the model increase from the W650 in 2011) is fit for modern consumption.

Modern riders will initially find the steering odd. It comes across feeling like a boat’s tiller, with a certain amount of side-to-side flop at lower speeds. This is partly due to the positioning of the handlebar clamps over the steering head stem, rather than in front of it, and the weight of the instrument cluster and headlight out front. Luckily, this odd feel gets less intrusive the faster you go; at cruising altitude there are no real signs of the slow speed traits.

The ride is as basic as it looks. The normal-way-up forks have a smallish amount of travel and no adjustability and it’s a similar story at the twin-shock rear (although they have the “luxury” of five-way preload adjustment). Kawasaki’s PR call this the “Vintage ride feel” and, as the front 19-inch wheel slams into another pothole in Sydney’s deteriorating network of roads or, as I like to think of them “Vintage transportation surfaces,” you’ll be reminded that not all things in life have improved.

The suspension’s comfort isn’t helped by the void formed by the junction of seat foam and rear of the metal fuel tank, which has a tendency to grab at your nuts more so than a group of budding Michael Jackson wannabes.

Ride the W800 in the spirit of its original design, rather than as a modern example of a motorcycle, and the experience satisfies. Ground clearance is vastly improved over most cruisers, performance is acceptable (although two-up riding knocks the zip back a few levels) and the comfort is okay for shorter distances. But it really is a wind-the-speed-back kinda bike, rather than get-there-quick affair.

The low seat height and slim flanks means it swims through traffic, while the disc front and drum rear have enough bite to handle the moron ahead performing an unexpected U-turn.

However, it’s when the engine’s silent and the stand’s down that the W800 plays its trump card. The general public absolutely love this bike. Parked up, there’s always someone drinking in the detail of this modern retro. From the peashooter exhausts (with finned engine collars), rubber tank-mounted kneepads, smooth handgrips and extensive use of chrome throughout (on the standard model), it’s a bike with a vast amount of history.

From its 1966 beginnings as a possible weapon of choice for those lairy Ton-up boys (and, at the time, the largest capacity motorcycle offered by the big K), this W-series Kawasaki has become one of the most generally acceptable faces of modern motorcycling. A real case of history repeating and reinventing.