Picture a smoky‑chrome, rubber‑burning, throttle‑twisting decade — the 1970s, when motorcycling was transitioning from ragged, temperamental beasts to sleek, powerful machines. In that golden era, a handful of bikes stood out. Some for their precision, some for their grunt, some for their weirdness. Below are six of the most memorable — and a bit of why riders either loved them or cursed them.
Meet the Contenders
Honda CB750 — The Benchmark
The CB750 came out in 1969 and changed everything. With a 736 cc SOHC inline‑four, claimed ~68 hp and a top speed around 125 mph, it combined performance, reliability, and subtle engineering brilliance.
But beyond specs: CB750 was the first mass‑produced “superbike‑like” motorcycle — disc front brake, four‑cylinder smoothness, electric start, and a price that didn’t make you need a second mortgage.
I like to imagine: a 1970s rider kicks up a CB750, revs it, hears that inline‑four purr — then tells his buddies, “Fellas… this is what the future sounds like.”
Kawasaki Z1 — The Muscle Upping the Ante
When Kawasaki launched the Z1 in 1972, it was their answer to Honda’s challenge — but turned the dial up. Big 900 cc inline‑four and a roar to match.
If CB750 was precision and polish, Z1 was raw power and swagger. Riders who wanted more — more bark, more bragging rights, more “I’m not messing around” — this was their machine.
Though a bit above 750 cc, Z1’s cultural clash with CB750 is part of why the 1970s felt like a motorcycle renaissance: specs jumped, expectations soared, and the world got spoiled.
Suzuki GT750 “Water Buffalo” — The Oddball with a Liquid‑Cooled Heart
The GT750 (1971–1977) stands out for many reasons — especially because it was the first Japanese production bike with a liquid‑cooled engine. 739 cc, two‑stroke triple. Claimed 67 hp, top speed about 110 mph.
It was big, heavier than the CB and Kawasaki, and smoked like a chimney under hard throttle (two‑stroke, remember). But it had character: a deep-throated rumble, touring comfort by standards of the day, and a “don’t mess with me” vibe that appealed to riders who wanted something different — not just fast.
If the CB750 was your dependable friend, GT750 was the eccentric uncle who drank too much, told wild stories, but always delivered on the ride home.
Yamaha XS650 — The Twin‑Cylinder Survivor
Alright — XS650 isn’t a “750,” but it deserves a nod because of its popularity, longevity, and cult reputation. Introduced in the late 1960s, produced for nearly two decades, it offered a 650 cc twin that was simple, sturdy, and a base for endless customization.
XS650 didn’t aim to out‑gun the inline‑fours. Instead, it leaned on reliability, ease of maintenance, and a kind of “build it yourself” friendliness. Café racers, custom choppers — you name it, the XS650 was there, often running long after its competition bit the dust.
It’s the sort of bike that whispers, “I may not be fastest, but I’ll still be here when your fancy ride needs parts.”
BMW R75/5 — The German Gentleman
For those who didn’t want bleeding‑edge thrills, but instead precision, reliability, and comfort — the R75/5 offered a 745 cc boxer‑twin, smooth ride, and “long‑haul without drama” credentials. Minimal flash, maximum steadiness.
If you imagine a rider in a tweed jacket and leather gloves, wearing a calm smile while winding through country roads, that’s the BMW R75/5. Not a rocket out of the gate, but a trusty companion on long rides.
Also helps explain why European riders often preferred BMW for touring — comfort and endurance over loud pipes and drag strip bragging.
Triumph Trident T150 — The British Triple with Spirit (and Flaws)
The T150 (741 cc, air-cooled triple) was born around the same time as CB750, a last‑ditch British attempt to stay relevant. 58 hp, a distinctive triple-engine soundtrack, and a decent top speed (claimed ~117 mph).
But here’s where history gets messy: Triumph (and other Brit manufacturers) struggled with outdated tech, reliability issues, and quality control — problems that Japanese manufacturers had almost solved.
Still — the T150 had heart, character, and that classic British charm. For those who loved rattles, oil drips, and the romantic wobbles of an old-school machine, the Trident was a statement: “I ride for soul, not just speed.”
What Made Each Stand Out — And What They Couldn’t Outrun
| Bike | What It Did Best | Where It Fell Short / Who It Was For |
|---|---|---|
| CB750 | Perfect mix: inline‑four smoothness, disc brake, reliability, daily usability. | Pure performance freaks might find it modest compared to later 900+ bikes. |
| Z1 | Power, speed, swagger — the “shake up the streets” effect. | Bigger engine = more weight/fuel; less practical than CB750 for everyday use. |
| GT750 | Liquid‑cooled 2‑stroke triple — unique feel & touring‑friendliness (for a big 2‑stroke). | Heavy, smoky, two‑stroke quirks; not the most refined. |
| XS650 | Durability, simplicity, endless custom potential. | less power, less glitz. |
| R75/5 | Smooth touring ride, reliability, boxer‑twin stable power. | Slower, heavier, more utilitarian than sport‑focused machines. |
| T150 | Triple tone, raw character, British motorcycle soul. | Ageing tech, reliability & maintenance problems; edged out by Japanese bikes. |
🎭 Why These Bikes Matter — Even Today
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CB750: Often called the first superbike and the template for modern sport bikes. Its mix of tech and accessibility changed what people expected from motorcycles.
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Z1: Proved Japanese manufacturers weren’t afraid to go big — helped fuel the “bigger is better” arms‑race in the 1970s’ bike world.
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GT750: Showed that not all big bikes had to be four‑strokes — liquid‑cooled two‑strokes had their moment, with personality and quirks to spare.
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XS650: Became a canvas for customization. Café racers, choppers, cruisers — many modern customs trace roots back to the humble twin.
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R75/5: A reminder that not every rider was chasing top speed — some just wanted a dependable, comfortable ride that would last.
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T150: The last roar of British motorcycle ambition — imperfect, flawed, but unforgettable. Vintage‑bike lovers still revere it for its soul.
A Tale of Roads, Rivals, and Riders
I like to picture a 1970s biker meet on a dusty roadside café. A CB750 rolls up first — polished, smooth, confident. Then a Z1 thunders out of the woods, startling birds and making heads turn. A GT750 follows, smoky triple‑puffing but riding steady. A couple of vintage heads on XS650s chatter about café‑racing, a BMW boxer cruises in quietly, looking sharp but understated, then a T150 lumbers up, triple rumble and all, exuding old‑world grit.
They park side by side. Different philosophies, different vibes. But none more valid than the other. That scene — the mix of refinement, power, soul, and noise — defines the ’70s motorcycle era.
Today, when someone sees a CB750, or a Z1, or even a well-worn XS650, they’re not just seeing metal and rubber. They’re seeing history.
They’re seeing a time when bikers didn’t just buy what was sold — they bought what felt alive.