The 1985 Suzuki GSX-R750’s place in history – and in the hearts of a generation of 1980s bikers – was earned by being the first ‘racer replica’: a no compromise, track-focused sportster ready to race straight out of the crate. No previous superbike had taken such a single-minded approach.
But in truth, the GSX-R750F wasn’t the first GSX-R. That bike was the 1984 GSX-R400, a Japan-only machine targeted at the ultra-competitive, sports-crazy, domestic market in which novices were restricted to 250 two-strokes or 400cc four-strokes. So, while Suzuki’s pioneering, alloy-framed 1983 RG250 two-stroke took inspiration from Suzuki’s RG500 GP racer, its alternative, the new ‘Racing GSX’ four-stroke (hence GSX-R) mimicked Suzuki’s XR41 endurance racer – right down to its twin beam fairing and box-section aluminium frame.
For the important European and US markets, however, where 750s were superbike kings, some bigger GSX-Rs were required. Intended to be a true replica of the XR41, with clip-ons, full race fairing, endurance bike style twin headlights and pioneeringly lightweight aluminium chassis, no sports bike had ever looked so focused. And, with a dry weight of just 176kg (33 less than Yamaha’s new FZ750 of the same year) and a revvy 100bhp it promised the performance to back up that style while meeting the new regulations for the all-important American AMA Superbike series, which now limited race bikes to 750cc fours.
The result was unveiled at the Cologne Show in October 1984. It caused an immediate sensation and became, virtually overnight, the ‘go-to’ production racer. The GSX-R750F duly dominated 1985’s inaugural MCN Streetbike Championship, winning nine of the 11 races (Yamaha’s also all-new but overshadowed FZ750 won the other two) with ultimate series winner Mick Grant being GSX-R mounted. It also took the first four places in that year’s 750cc Production TT.
But that was just the start. In 1986 the GSX-R750G was improved with a slightly longer swingarm and was also launched into the US, with future GP star Kevin Schwantz starring at that year’s Transatlantic Trophy aboard one, his performance earning a first 500GP wild card.
The original GSX-R1100 also debuted that year to a similar impact, cementing the GSX-R as an icon and spawning a GSX-R dynasty which remained virtually unbroken to this day. Updated 750 and 1100s arrived virtually every year in this peak superbike era, was only truly overtaken in 1992 by Honda’s first FireBlade, then, from 1996, a new generation of beam-framed GSX-R600, 750 and 1000s emerged which became one of the dominant sports bike families right up to 2017.
Which is why that 1985 750F GSX-R original remains so significant – and collectable – today. Back in 1985 I was an LC-riding student without the means or ability to contemplate a GSX-R750, but I was at the NEC to drool over its UK unveiling alongside the equally dreamy RG500. Five years later I was awestruck at my first press launch for the then GSX-R750 and 1100L. I also briefly rode an F alongside the then GSX-R750K5 in 2005 for a feature to mark its 20th anniversary.
But a further 20 years on I’d mostly forgotten all that, so the opportunity to ride Suzuki GB’s own pristine 1985 original was one not to be missed.
The immediate impression is two-fold: Firstly, how frankly bizarre its attitude and ergonomics are. With an ‘80s-style low rear, low seat, high front, big fairing, hunched tank and shockingly slim profile on its big ‘80s 18” wheels, it’s nothing like a modern sports bike.
But second, and far more impressively, is, even now, a full 40 years after its launch, how minimal and uncompromisingly modern that first GSX-R feels.
On board, once accustomed to its oddball gait, I was in awe of how light it was, by its minimal dash – two race-style white dials, with the tacho not even registering until 3000rpm, mounted in a small foam block – and by its no-holds barred approach to speed.
On the move it’s even more focussed. The racy 100bhp four wants revs and doesn’t mess about. It’s fluffy and needs lots of clutch slip to pull away. Its gearbox, though four decades old, is typically Suzuki slick, and as I accelerate onto Milton Keynes’ road maze, it screams and shouts for more speed and gears. No wonder it was revolutionary 40 years ago.
The chassis, weird riding position, 18” wheels and old school tyres/ brakes aside (always the giveaway on old bikes), impresses, too. The ‘Gixxer’ is light and slim – yet stable and swift steering, too. And while its mirrors might be useless and its indicators brick-like, there’s little here that, looks aside, seems dated.
It’s a true classic motorcycle these days, qualifying for vintage motorcycle insurance and even Historic status with the DVLA, meaning that it doesn’t need an annual MoT test and has free road tax.
They say you shouldn’t meet your heroes, but I’m still amazed a 40-year-old Suzuki could feel so new.
