Kawasaki Z750

The Z750's DOHC four pulls cleanly from about 4,000 rpm and genuinely sings past 7,000, but that 231kg wet weight makes itself known the moment you're wrestling it out of a tight car park or mid-corner panic. I ran one of the early drum-front-brake models for two seasons and the stopping power was, charitably, something you planned well in advance — switching to the later disc-equipped C model felt like a safety upgrade worth the extra money. The duplex frame gives it a solidity that cheaper parallel-twin rivals couldn't match, and the engine's long-term durability is genuinely impressive if you keep the cam chain tensioner and valve clearances in check. It sits in a strange historical gap — less exciting than the Z900 that preceded it, more competent than its displacement suggests — but as a usable, servicing-friendly classic, it earns its keep.

The Z750's 738cc inline-four pulls cleanly from about 4,000 rpm and keeps building with genuine enthusiasm past 8,000 — it's not explosive, but it never feels dishonest about what it is. Kawasaki's revised carbs on this generation sorted most of the flat-spot nonsense that plagued the earlier Z750s, and the improved front disc setup actually gives you feedback you can trust under hard braking, which wasn't guaranteed on the first gen. At 230 kg wet, it's a substantial machine and you'll feel every kilo when you're pushing it through slow urban traffic or picking it up off a greasy forecourt. The chassis is steady and predictable on sweeping roads but gets a bit vague and reluctant when you really ask it to hustle through tight bends — it's a motorway cruiser pretending to be a sports bike, and the best miles I've had on it were honest long-distance runs, not canyon carving.

The Zephyr 750 never pretended to be something it wasn't — it's a mid-90s air-cooled four that pulls cleanly from 3,500 rpm, feels planted through corners, and rewards smooth riders rather than aggressive ones. That 748cc motor has genuine character: a dry, mechanical clatter at idle that softens into a satisfying howl past 7,000 rpm, though it runs out of breath before you'd like on a motorway overtake. The 228 kg wet weight is noticeable in slow parking-lot maneuvers but disappears once rolling, and the suspension — while not confidence-inspiring on broken tarmac — handles real-world B-road use without drama. My gripes are real: the front brake feel is mediocre even by period standards, the seat turns punishing after 90 minutes, and fuel economy hovers around 15 km/l if you use the throttle honestly.

I put nearly 18,000 km on a 2001 ZR750-F and it never once embarrassed me, but it never thrilled me either — which, depending on what you need, is either a strength or a dealbreaker. The 748cc inline-four pulls cleanly from about 4,500 rpm and hits a satisfying wall of torque through the midrange, but above 9,000 it goes breathless rather than singing, so forget chasing sportbikes on a canyon run. At 228 kg wet it's noticeably porky for a naked — filtering in city traffic gets tiresome fast and low-speed manoeuvring demands respect. The ergonomics are genuinely upright and comfortable for an hour, then your wrists start complaining because the bars sit just slightly too low and too wide for longer hauls.

The 748cc inline-four pulls hard from about 6,000 rpm and absolutely sings past 9,000 — it's genuinely exciting in a way the old ZR-7 carbureted unit never was. That half-faired Z750S nose piece is a love-it-or-hate-it quirk that actually reduces fatigue on longer hauls without making it a tourer; I covered 400km days without destroyed wrists, which surprised me. The chassis is flickable and confidence-inspiring in corners, but 215kg wet is noticeable in slow car-park maneuvers and the brakes — twin 300mm front discs — feel adequate rather than inspiring, especially if you're coming from a Hornet or Z750 of a later vintage. Fuel consumption sits around 16–17L/100km if you use the revs honestly, and you will, because that's exactly what this engine begs you to do.

The Z750 hits that sweet spot where 106 horsepower feels genuinely usable rather than terrifying — pin it from 6,000 rpm and it pulls hard and clean all the way to the redline without the manic edge of a litre bike. The 2007 reskin gave it real visual aggression, and unlike some naked bikes that look meaner than they ride, this one actually backs it up with a chassis that steers quickly and communicates well through the bars. My main gripe after 18 months of daily riding was the front-end feel under hard braking — the forks deflect noticeably on rough tarmac, and the brake lever travel is longer than I'd like before you hit serious bite. Wind protection is basically nonexistent above 160 km/h, which you'll notice on motorways before the engine does.