Yamaha Xs650

I put about 4,000 miles on a restored '69 over two summers, and the XS650 earns its reputation the honest way — it just runs. The parallel twin pulls smoothly from 3,000 rpm, has a satisfying mechanical thump without the oil-leak anxiety of a comparable Triumph, and hits an indicated 160 km/h without drama. The drum front brake is the weak link; in the wet, you're negotiating rather than stopping, so you learn to plan ahead or fit a later disc conversion. Ergonomics are neutral and the seat is tolerable for 90-mile stints, but the original carb jetting runs lean at altitude and the points ignition needs attention every few thousand miles if you want clean starting.

I rode a restored XS-1 back-to-back with a Triumph Bonneville and came away genuinely impressed — the Yamaha pulls cleaner through the midrange and doesn't weep oil onto your boots. That parallel twin has a satisfying mechanical thrum at 4,500 rpm that turns into real urgency by 6,500, and the 177 km/h top speed is honest, not optimistic. The drum brakes are the obvious weak link; they're adequate in dry conditions but require serious planning in the wet, and repeated hard stops fade them embarrassingly fast. Carburetor refinements over the Gen 1 helped cold-start behavior, but on damp mornings you're still doing a small ritual of choke, tickle, and prayer before she catches.

The Gen 3 XS650 finally felt like Yamaha meant it — that front disc option transforms confidence on wet tarmac where the old drum would have you praying, and the charging system upgrade means you stop worrying about whether the battery will see Tuesday. The 653cc parallel twin pulls with a satisfying, almost British honesty between 3,500 and 6,500 rpm, never pretending to be a screamer, just delivering thick, usable torque that makes filtering traffic and two-up riding feel genuinely relaxed. At highway speeds she sits at an easy cruise around 130 km/h but start pushing toward that claimed 175 and the vibes creep into your wrists and the mirrors turn to smeared impressionism. My real gripe is the points ignition — still fitted despite the electrical improvements — which demands regular attention if you want consistent starting, and the stock front suspension forks are soft enough to make spirited canyon carving feel like a negotiation rather than a conversation.

Yamaha's TX650 designation felt like a fresh start, and that front disc brake was genuinely welcome after years of the drum's spongy optimism — it bites with real confidence and transforms braking from a prayer into a plan. The revised frame geometry tightens the steering noticeably; this generation tracks through corners with more composure than earlier XS650s, less nervous on sweeping highway bends. That said, the updated electrics introduced their own soap opera — early pointless ignition systems on these bikes develop gremlins around the 15,000-mile mark, and chasing intermittent spark issues on a dark roadside is character-building in the worst way. The engine itself remains the star: that 653cc twin pulls with meaty, linear torque, sounds properly mechanical without being obnoxious, and with basic maintenance will simply refuse to die.

Yamaha finally sorted most of the gremlins with the C and D models — the revised carbs actually stay in tune past 3,000 miles, and the electronic turn signals stopped being an embarrassment. That 653cc twin still pulls with genuine authority from 3,500 rpm upward, and cruising at 130 km/h feels effortless in a way that surprises people who dismiss it as vintage decoration. The handling is honest rather than inspiring — it steers predictably but wallows if you push it on rough mid-corner pavement, and the front drum brake demands serious planning at speed. At 204 kg it's not a lightweight, but the low-slung mass makes it feel more manageable than the number suggests.

Yamaha quietly fixed what mattered most with the E and F models — the upgraded alternator actually keeps up with demand, and I stopped carrying spare fuses in my jacket pocket. The 653cc twin still pulls with that satisfying low-mid grunt, tractable from 3,000 rpm and genuinely fun to hustle through sweeping roads, though it runs out of breath before the claimed 175 km/h feels comfortable. Wet weight at 204 kg is honest but not intimidating, and the new instruments finally give you legible information instead of the earlier vague optimism. The weak link remains the front drum on earlier E models — if yours hasn't been upgraded to disc, budget for it before you trust mountain roads.

The XS650H I ran for two years never once left me stranded, and that says more than any spec sheet. That 653cc parallel twin pulls with a satisfying thump from about 3,000 rpm, settles into a comfortable highway cruise at 110 km/h, and only starts feeling strained when you chase the 7,000 rpm redline — which you rarely need to. The revised front brake on the G and H models is a genuine improvement over earlier gens, though 'improved' is relative; plan your stops early and mean it. Weight distribution is good, the 800mm seat height works for average-height riders, but 218kg makes itself known in slow car park maneuvers and on any off-camber surface.

Yamaha knew the XS650 was done, and the Heritage Special feels like a farewell letter — those wire wheels and classic chrome touches genuinely earn admiring stares at every fuel stop. The engine still pulls with that satisfying low-mid grunt, and once you're rolling on a B-road, the parallel twin's rhythm gets under your skin in a way no modern bike replicates. But let's be honest: by 1982, the chassis, suspension, and braking hardware were embarrassingly dated against contemporary Japanese competition, and the electrics have a maddening habit of developing gremlins that no wiring diagram fully explains. Still, for relaxed weekend riding and the sheer pleasure of mechanical simplicity, this old dog has more soul than bikes twice its price today.