Grey imports: The rise and fall

It’s time to get properly nostalgic and revisit the glory days of Japan’s sub-culture grey imports… when the coolest bikes didn’t come from showrooms, but shipping crates.

Imagine if I told you that there was a whole underground world of super-trick sports bikes, made by the big Japanese manufacturers, that they’re keeping secret from us. Entire ranges of sexy race replicas, with unique engine layouts, exotic chassis designs and super-trick technology. They’ve got the very best suspension and braking kit, and they look like a million dollars – but they’re not available to buy in any official UK dealerships.

We’d be burning down the Japanese embassy (or at the very least saying horrible things about them on Facebook). But that’s exactly what was happening in the late 1980s and early 90s. The big four Japanese manufacturers all produced special bikes, in 250cc and 400cc capacities, which they sold (almost) exclusively in their home market. These were flagship models in all but capacity, usually in GP-replica supersports form, and had all the technology and design of their bigger siblings – and a bit extra.

Why would they do this? Did they hate us? Did they think we all smelled? Well yes, probably, but they also had other things on their mind. Back then, the Japanese bike market was absolutely enormous: 1981 was the peak year for production, when the four Japanese firms manufactured almost 7.5 million bikes. Japan itself was fuelled by a massive economic boom at the time, which drove huge technological growth: you just have to think of firms like Sony with its electronic kit, Canon and Nikon cameras or Nissan and Toyota building high-tech supercars like the 300ZX and Supra. So, firms like Honda were riding on a wave of tech and engineering advances, with a wealthy, smart domestic market to sell to.

In the beginning

That home bike market was weird though. After a law change in 1975, Japan’s bike riding licence categories were divided into mopeds (up to 50cc), small motorcycle–limited (up to 125cc), medium motorcycle–limited (up to 400cc), and an unrestricted motorcycle licence. However, the test for the unrestricted license was extremely difficult to pass, meaning many young riders stopped at the medium licence – making a prime market for high-performance 250cc or 400cc sport bikes.

At the same time, the success of Japanese firms in GP racing, meant that the 1980s saw a massive race-replica boom. But the firms couldn’t sell the same GSX-R750s/1100s, FZR1000s, ZXR750s and CBR600s/1000s as they did in Europe and the US.

So – no messing about – they simply made 250cc and 400cc versions of ‘em. The four-stroke machines really did look like a magic shrink-ray had been applied to the big superbikes: perfect miniature versions of the FZR, GSX-R, ZXR and CBR sportsbikes, with all the same tech and design – sometimes even more. The 1992 CBR400RR looked just like a mini-FireBlade, but with a gorgeous asymmetric gull-arm swingarm.

But the 250cc two-strokes were even saucier. Here, the tech came straight from the track; engineers used race team know-how on exhaust power valves, reed valve intakes, expansion chambers, cylinder porting and carburation, plus chassis design cues from 250GP. The result was road bikes with more than 60bhp, weighing in around 130kg dry.

There were a couple of other factors that led to the growth in grey imports though. Japan had a very strict vehicle inspection system, meaning bikes over 250cc, needed testing after three years, and then every two years thereafter. This was like an MOT test on steroids, and many bikes failed on fairly-minor issues. Owners handed the bikes back as trade-ins for a newer model, and dealers amassed a glut of second-hand mini-superbikes, which they had to get rid of. At the same time, the exchange rate was favourable for exports: the UK pound was strong against the Japanese yen, making these second-hand bikes relatively cheap for British buyers.

Capitalism jumped in, and switched-on businesses began shipping out used Japanese market bikes, packed into containers. Forty-foot steel boxes packed with sweet 250s and 400s made their way to Felixstowe and Southampton, before being snapped up by 1990s riders, eager to sample something new, different and exotic. Remember, of course, there was no internet back then, and the only sight we had of things like Suzuka 8-Hour race bikes was a monthly look at Fast Bikes, Performance Bikes or SuperBike magazines. Seeing a Tech21-replica FZR250RR in your local bike shop was like seeing an alien spaceship.

For most of the 1990s, these grey imports – called that because they were in a grey area of approval outside the official channels – built up an entire subculture of their own. By the turn of the century though, circumstances changed both in Japan and at home, and the world of grey imports began to fade away. But it remains one of the most magical times in UK biking, full of brilliant memories of amazing bikes for many riders…

Small but mighty

For UK riders in the early 1980s a ‘four-stroke 250’ meant the likes of the Honda CB250N Superdream, Suzuki GS250 or Yamaha XS250. Grim, nasty, sullen little machines.

So, it’s incredible to consider what came just a few years later. All the Japanese firms came up with an inline-four DOHC 16-valve four-stroke 249cc engine, making around 45bhp. They were revvy as hell: the Honda CBR250RR made peak power around 14,500rpm, with a redline around 19,000rpm. The pistons were less than two inches across (around 48-50mm) and the stroke was an inch and a half (around 33-35mm), with correspondingly teensy valves and con-rods. They had the torque of a clockwork mouse, but sounded incredible and their light weight, stiff chassis and gorgeous styling made up (a bit) for the wheezy motors. They were ideal if you were on nine points…

Of all the grey imports, these were the most esoteric: they didn’t make a lot of sense on UK roads, had near-zero tuning potential compared with the strokers, and had a narrow niche appeal – as shown by the total absence of any officially-imported models in this class.

To give a little more context, let’s talk through the offerings, kicking off with Honda’s CBR250RR MC22. The brand’s first modern 250 four was the half-faired CBR250F MC14, delivered in 1986, featuring a weird mix of tech with gear-driven cams, peak power of 40bhp@14,500rpm, and a drum rear brake. It was soon updated to the full-faired MC17/19 CBR250R in 1987, then the full-on 45bhp CBR250RR MC22 ‘micro-FireBlade’ from 1990-95. This came with a ‘gull-arm’ asymmetrical rear swingarm, dual headlights, full fairing and ram-air intake tubes.

Naturally, Yamaha wanted in on the fight, so they came up with the FZR250RR.

Essentially it was a mini-version of the FZ600, FZR750R and FZR1000R of the same era, and at first glance looked identical. Under the full fairing was a steel Deltabox frame holding a typical 250cc, inline-four motor – though Yamaha did choose to fit its EXUP exhaust power valve system on later models in an attempt to boost torque levels. There were several versions from 1986-95, including the early FZR250 Genesis and later FZR250R EXUP. Newer models aped the design of the bigger bikes, with projector headlights and purple paint schemes like the FZR400/600/1000s.

Kawasaki’s ZXR250 was pretty much like a ZXR750 that’d been in the tumble dryer too long: it was a proper effort. It came with the same double headlight endurance-style fairing with ram-air cooling intake tubes into the top of the fuel tank, aluminium beam frame, USD forks and dual front discs – perhaps overkill considering the 45bhp peak power and 141kg dry mass.

And then there was Suzuki! The final part of the 250cc superbike grey import story: the GSX-R followed a similar route as the others, albeit with a bit less effort put in by the designers. It mimicked the looks of the bigger GSX-R models with a titchy 248cc liquid-cooled lump making 45bhp and twin-spar steel chassis, when it first appeared in 1987. There were a few, largely cosmetic updates until 1994, as well as a couple of SP models with fancier suspension. As you can imagine, they are pretty rare here now.

Strokers of genius

You get the point, the major Japanese brands went all in on the new class of four-stroke 250s, and equally so on the two-stroke front. A 250cc two-stroke twin-cylinder engine was, by the 1970s, a really sweet option as a powerplant. Even old-tech air-cooled piston-ported designs like Suzuki’s GT250/X7 would make decent power in a super-light package. By the time you added water-cooling and reed-valve induction, as on the 1980 Yamaha RD250 LC, you were into genuine 30-odd bhp and 100mph performance. Exhaust powervalves were the final part of the puzzle, and by the early 1990s, the best 250 twins could make more than 60bhp: 240bhp/litre. They varied in weight, but most were around the 125-140kg.One downside of grey imports was power and speed restrictions: these were strict in Japan and needed careful workarounds to get the full power and speed for UK use.

Perhaps the most iconic stroker of the era was Suzuki’s RGV250, which was produced from 1988-98. The follow-up to the parallel twin RG250 Gamma, which itself was built on the foundations of the old X7 engine, the RGV had a V-twin motor with guillotine-style power valves, making around 62bhp. The UK saw the VJ21 and VJ22 models imported as standard by Suzuki UK, but the later VJ23, with a different 70° V-twin engine and even more performance was a grey import only. By contrast, Honda’s NSR250 (1987-96) was never officially imported to the UK, so all the NSR250s you see are grey imports. Gorgeous 250cc V-twin GP replicas from Honda, there were four versions: the MC16, MC18, MC21 and MC28, getting gradually more trick as the years passed. SP versions added dry clutches, better suspension and even magnesium wheels. The peak of technology was the final edition, with a single-sided swingarm and ‘smart card’ PGM-IV ignition system. Honda produced replaceable Maxell memory cards with ignition and engine management data on them, so riders could, in theory, swap in different memory cards to get different engine mapping. Back in the mid-1990s this was genuine witchcraft…

In the Yamaha camp, there was the TZR250. There was one official TZR250 model imported into the UK: the 2MA version from 1987-1991. It was largely conventional in design: the motor was a standard parallel twin with clear roots in the RD models, though it made much more power at around 50bhp claimed.

The grey market had much more exotic treats though: the reverse cylinder 3MA model and the later V-twin TZR250R 3XV. The reverse cylinder model was unique: as the name suggests, it had its carburettors mounted in front of the engine, with the cylinders turned round 180°. That meant an easy straight path for the expansion chambers out the back through the seat unit, boosting power and torque. The V-twin was a big leap forward in tech, with balance shaft, digital ignition, and complex exhaust power valve control, based on revs and throttle position.

And of course, who could forget about Kawasaki’s KR-1? Kawasaki had loads of experience in two-strokes from the 1970s, and had built some madcap bikes, including the 1984 KR250 tandem twin, with one cylinder in front of the other. The 1988 KR-1 was much more conventional though: a parallel twin 250 in a sweet aluminium frame with race-rep chassis tech. The later 1990 KR-1S was officially imported to the UK for a while, wowing punters and winning supersport 400 races. It was a bit of a rocketship with 60bhp and 131kg dry weight, but suffered from reliability woes (even more than all the other strokers) and disappeared in 1992. Japan also had a super-rare KR-1R model, which was even saucier, but the big K drifted away from strokers after this, sadly…

(TO BE CONTINUED SUNDAY 20th)