Back in 1980 the big decision facing bike buyers was ‘two stroke or four stroke?’ Perusing the second hand learner legal options available to me at the time I had a choice of this or a Honda CB 100 N which if I’d bought it I would probably still be riding. But the hundred quid difference was too much to overcome.
This was my first and thankfully a very short lived bike.
It was an unpleasant and unreliable little death trap which coughed and spluttered at most speeds. At first glance a pretty sensible little commuter with shrouded shocks and forks and a totally enclosed chain which should have protected it from the never ending rain. But instead they just provided a foundation for a blooming layer of rust.
A surprisingly comfortable seat and ride lulled me into a false sense of security and the KH gave me my first bike related scar, still visible today just above my right knee when the front tyre lost its grip on a right angled corner. Years later I met a girl who had exactly the same thing happen on the same corner on exactly the same model. Be silly to blame the bikes but I wasn’t totally surprised. An entertaining feature of the design was the carb that would spontaneously piss petrol on the road when the bike was parked up. I’d be sitting there watching it, sidestand or centrestand made no difference. Petrol tap on or off, it would stand there calmly for a while and then squirt incontinently however much the float bowl contained over the rear of the engine and onto the ground.
The gearbox showed signs of giving up and I had the nasty little thing repaired by a local dealer who seemed not to know how to tighten engine or cylinder bolts. Now on top of the other nastiness the cylinder head and base exuded a tar-like petrol/two stroke oil/dissolved exhaust gas mixture over the crank case and exhaust.
I called it a day and was lucky enough to sell the heap to an ancient alcoholic moped dealer and thought myself well rid of my first and so far only Kawasaki.