SUZUKI DR800 S BIG (1991 - 1997) Review

What do we have here? Why, it’s an as-new 1991 Suzuki DR800S, aka DR Big - Suzuki’s first big adventure bike and recommissioned in 2020 by the team at Suzuki GB.

The DR Big is fun, punches above its weight in charm and is surprisingly versatile for a big single, including a spot of touring thanks to its excellent range.

What’s more, it’s even better-looking than the latest 2020 Suzuki V-Strom 1050XT and as a second bike for a bit of fettling, running around and the odd moment of trail riding, the classic would be ideal.

But in 1991 the DR wasn’t the quickest in its class and in 2020 it’s woefully slow compared to a modern 1050.

Throwing bends at the DR shows its true 1990s origin as well as its off-road bias; the tall, gangly forks, rear weight bias and spindly front tyre (thankfully a modern Michelin Anakee Adventure) give the bike a lean-it-and-lose-it feel – you have to almost nudge the Suzuki through a corner, constantly testing front grip.

It’s a slow in, apex, and pin it style – or alternatively, just go easy all the way through. Hell of a turning circle and fantastic low speed balance though; the DR can U-turn feet-up in around three-quarters the width its modern Suzuki V-Strom 1050XT counterpart needs.

While you might expect a hard-edged and angry, stiff and tall, and awkward-to-ride bike with a lumpy motor there is in fact found a soft and smooth, easy to use machine with an engine that doesn’t even vibrate very much.

I’d never ridden a DR Big before this 2020 ride; neither the original 750 from 1988 nor 1990’s DR800 and half expected big, thumping, single-piston truculence. Afterall, the DR remains the largest single cylinder production motorcycle engine and all that metal flinging about must induce some vibration, surely? Hope nothing falls off, including me.

The five-speed gearbox doesn’t always make it across from first to second without dipping into neutral, but the motor pulls smoothly and cleanly through its twin carbs, and is nippy off the line. Not fast though; rated at 54bhp, it’s the laziest 54bhp ever and mid-40s would be closer.

The DR needs overtaking consideration because its paucity of mid-puff is so evident. It never labours – unless you ask too much of top gear – but 70mph is 5000rpm, 80mph is 5750pm and it doesn’t feel fair to ask more of a 30-year-old single. But, even cruising at those speeds only reveals a mild tingling through the footpegs. I could ride the DR a long way, reminding me of my lawn mower every time I shut off.

It’s like being followed by a madcap multicoloured Erasure video. It actually looks pretty cool, but maybe I’m showing my age. As well as looking cool, owners reviews online also report the bike to be relatively fuss-free – providing thousands of miles of care-free riding.

That said, some do report the bikes to use a fair amount of oil. Being almost 30-years-old, parts are also becoming increasingly hard to come by, with the DR Big not included in Suzuki GB’s Vintage Parts programme. Check used purchases for signs of crash damage, with many ridden off-road, or dropped – thanks in part to the quirky handling.

Rugged, durable and minimalist in features, the DR Big should be easy to run. That said, finding one at all is a challenge and expect to pay collector’s prices when you do. A scan of online auction sites found minimal examples, with one clean early 750 listed for a penny shy of eight grand (2020 prices).  

The immediate sensation on climbing aboard – with 890mm seat height it’s not daunting but requires stepping onto the left peg first to avoid putting a hip out – is how quaintly simple the DR is to use.

Fuel tap on, button choke on, lights off in case it takes a few turns to get going... ah, no decompressor or kickstart, turn key, check she’s in neutral – someone got the wiring diagram mixed up and the turn signal idiot light is wired up as neutral instead – and hey presto, the DR starts without any fuss, settling instantly into a lightly pulsating tickover. That’s easy.

No menus or modes, wireless ignition or waiting for the clocks to warm up. Blip the throttle a few times to get the oil flowing, and away we go.

The dash also harks back to a more innocent time when the only riding modes were throttle, gears and brake. It’s rugged, chunky and easy to understand – as are the switches, which are minimalist and simplistic.