700/750 Maxim-X Menu

Road Rider  Magazine, August 1985

Although this article refers specifically to the Yamaha 700 Maxim-X Model XJ700X, it applies equally to the 750 Maxim-X Model XJ750X. The two models were identical in every respect except for engine displacement and related performance. While tariffs limited the sale of Maxim-X's to 700cc in the United States, Canada and other countries received the 750cc counterpart in the form of the XJ750X. No question, Canadians (and others) enjoyed Maxim-X performance in excess of that touted in this article.



Maxim-X !
The XJ700X - Yamaha's New Standard-Cruising-Sport-Touring Motorcycle

Back in the days when the French voyageurs were exploring the Canadian wilderness, they had an interesting way of starting their journeys. It was called a "Hudson Bay Start." This is how it worked. They got all their equipment packed in their canoes by noon. Then they started their journey after the midday meal.

This technique accomplished two things. First of all, it got them moving. Even back in those days, that first step of a long journey was the hardest. The second thing the Hudson Bay Start did was limit how far they went that first day out. That way, if they'd left something important behind, or if something went terribly wrong, it was only a half day's travel back to their starting point.

We have another reason for preferring this kind of a gateway to the more common, up-at-dawn routine. That is: we never seem to be ready to leave by 6:00am! There is always one more thing that didn't get done, so we end up taking off late and trying to cram a 500-mile day into a half day's ride. That's no fun! So after several years of struggle, we just finally gave up. These days we plan our first day as s shorty. One hundred or two hundred miles at most - just enough to get us moving and on the road. The second day out is now the heavy mileage day. (Also, by calling it a Hudson Bay Start, you see, we don't have to feel guilty about leaving so darn late!)

That should explain why it was already 3:00pm on a dark and scary-looking afternoon, and we were only a few miles from home. The weather didn't look like it was going to cooperate with our Hudson Bay habit. Sure enough, it soon stopped looking bad and started being bad.

Some miserable weather is actually a good thing on a test ride. You can tell a lot about a machine by the way it works when you are paying more attention to survival than to the operation of the bike. But so early in the trip? Darn!

The good part was that the Yamaha XJ700X Maxim[-X] I was riding was handling the rain like a happy duck. It stayed smooth and solid, and seemed totally unaffected by the wet slippery road surface. We had installed Silhouette's small "Cruiser" fairing on the Maxim[-X] for the trip. It was doing a good job of keeping me dry from the knees up, but rain always seems worse when it's dark. It wasn't long before I was thinking, "Okay, I've gathered enough information about this rain-riding stuff, now it can stop." As usual, it didn't pay any attention to me. It just got worse.

The "No Vacancy" signs were out in force in the town we had planned to spend the night in. Just great! We finally found a motel with no sign showing and pulled in. The woman behind the counter apologized; she had forgotten to turn the "No" sign on. Just great! She was a nig help, though; she called ahead to a smaller town 50 miles farther down the road and made reservations for us. Fifty more miles in the rain, huh? Just great!

I kept trying to look on the bright side. At least the Maxim[-X]'s 60/55 watt quartz headlight was doing an exceptional job in the dark, rainy conditions. It threw out a nice wide beam that penetrated the gloom and gave me a secure feeling about the road ahead.

By the time we pulled in under the motel carport, I was starving to death. So much for Hudson Bay Starts. But a few minutes later we were sitting in a quiet, dry, warm, wonderful-smelling Italian restaurant, and the lasagna was on the way. Just great!

The next day was strictly freeway riding across the desert. Good conditions to all the Maxim[-X] to show me its travelling abilities.

The 1985 Yamaha XJ700X Maxim[-X] is quite a bit different than the older version of the Maxim. Actually, it's a lot different. The engine is an in-line four, as was the earlier edition, but that's really about the only similarity. Displacement is 697cc, and each cylinder has five valves - three for intake of the fuel mix, and two to exhaust the burned gases. The Yamaha engineers chose this unique arrangement to produce efficient combustion and to allow the bike to operate well at higher rpm. This adds up to increased power, but without going over the 700cc mark.

The disadvantage of having 20 valves whirring up and down in an engine is that valve adjustments are going to be more difficult, and will require more time to do properly. In other words - based on an hourly rate - tuneups on the Maxim-X are probably going to cost more. One thing that helps: the owner's manual indicates that valve adjustments should only have to be performed once every 26,000 miles!

The Maxim[-X] has shaft drive, a five-speed transmission, and it runs on tubeless tires. Shifting is smooth and easy. The rear wheel is cast so that it looks almost "filled-in." It's even painted differently on one side than it is on the other - one side is black, the other side is polished aluminum. I guess this is stylish, but if there is any useful reason for such a design I don't know what it would be.

Out on the road this machine certainly has plenty of get up and went for a 700cc motorcycle. You turn the throttle, the Maxim-X gives out a mean-sounding snarl and gets somewhere else in a big hurry. Though Road Rider Magazine has never done any quarter-mile acceleration tests, I'll bet this Maxim[-X] would hold its own up against some of the so-called "sport" motorcycles in the same class. It's really quick - and I love it!

We travelled a bit more than 500 miles that second day. A medium-long distance that would have brought any points of discomfort to my attention. The Yamaha Maxim[-X] proved to be a most satisfactory mileage eater. Everything fits and works well for touring. The handlebars are unusual for a cruiser-style bike. I guess the best description would be that they're semi-straight. More like the bars used to be on "standard" machines. This was the type of bar I learned to ride with, so I was exceptionally comfortable with the shape.

Though the front wheel on the Maxim[-X] is set out a bit to create the cruiser look, Yamaha has redesigned the area around the steering head to minimize the effect of the rake angle on the handling. Most cruisers have a terrible habit of the front wheel falling over into a corner. If you want to know, I have never liked the way they handle on a good curvey road. But the Maxim[-X] was a surprise. It looks like it should be a heavy handler, but it is definitely not. Only at walk-around speeds could I feel a slight front-end heaviness.

The saddle was a good one for solo touring, too. It widens out at the right spot to give full support where it is needed. The rider section of the seat is most comfortable - firm but not hard. The back of the rider section is not at the correct angle to give any back support; its purpose seems to be to flow into the passenger section of the seat attractively. But the saddle is truly able to go traveling. I've ridden on much more elaborate, complicated saddles that weren't as good.

I only did passenger duty for about 50 miles on the Maxim[-X] - the day we picked the bike up from the manufacturer. Based on that short ride, the seat seemed comfortable enough, but the passenger pegs were much higher than I have a liking for. Okay for around town, but I suspect the position would be uncomfortable for serious long distance.

The instruments are set at a good angle and are extremely visible. One nice decorator touch: the faces of the instruments are white! I think they are the first white ones I've ever seen. It works for me; they are readable and clear - and kind of pretty. All the switches and hand controls are within easy reach. The tank tapers back nicely to blend with the shape of the saddle, and it also leaves a notch so your legs can reach the ground easily. The footpegs are positioned exactly where your feet want to go naturally, not way up near the front of the engine like so many cruiser bikes.

All in all, the Maxim[-X] is kind to your body on a long day's ride. Even better, the Maxim[-X] felt comfortable the next day. Now that's the real way to tell if a bike is "comfortable" - how does it feel when you get on to ride it the day after a long day's ride?

Our trip plans went bottoms up the next day. We had hoped to follow an unpaved back-country road across the southern tip of New Mexico. The hard rains had turned everything to gooey mud, though, so we had to turn back to the major highways. As it turned out, that wasn't so swell either. The freeway should have gotten us to Albuquerque in much shorter time. But 100 miles south of Albuquerque we ran into a late-season snowstorm. Snow! Again! We sure have had more than our share of that stuff this year.

It got worse and worse - and the wind started blowing it crossways. Fortunately, in all this bluster, the 700 continued to handle properly. Confidence in the machine you're riding makes a big difference, and there was a lot of that developing. I would establish a line and the Maxim[-X] would hold to it. The strong headwind that was now hitting us, and the ice build-up on the road were things that had to be coped with, but through it all proper input resulted in proper response. The most disconcerting thing was the fact that Bob was riding without a windshield, and he was having trouble with his vision. Since this caused him to weave around in front of me, I had to be doubly aware of his movements. I could see fine. The Silhouette fairing was doing an exceptional job of blocking the snow from my upper body, and updrafting it away from my helmet visor.

We had to stop for gas in downtown Albuquerque. Once the machines were filled, pulling out from under the roof was an extremely hard thing to do. It had started snowing harder while we were stopped. Our destination was on the other side of town, and getting there required a lot of surface-street maneuvering, with lots of stops for signals. Things were getting slippery. The front dual disc and the read drum brakes that had been doing such a good job were suddenly the enemy. There was one corner that was ice-coated, and the beginnings of a self-caused slide-out were corrected only because of the bike's cooperative response. Thank you, Maxim[-X].

Somehow we managed to reach the day's final destination. I didn't care how good a machine I was riding, I didn't want to do this anymore.

The next day - would you believe it? - was bright and shiny. It was a good sight to see. With a bit of time to play around with, we had a leisurely breakfast and a late morning start. We headed for the wildlife preserve at Bosque del Apache, south of Socorro, the wintering grounds of the whooping crane. Since that is a bird we were most desirous of seeing, off we went.

The loop drive through the preserve is hard-packed dirt and, of course, we went very slowly so we could see as much as possible. The 700 never gave any indication of heating up; it chugged along in first gear just fine. It proved that it could behave as well at 10 mph as it could at 55 and above. Also, with all the stopping and starting, the low seat height of 29.9 inches became one of the bike's favorite features as far as I was concerned.

In the gravel, just as on the highway, the kicked-out front end never gave the impression that it wanted to duck under. As a matter of fact, it wasn't noticeable at all. The bike stayed as true and steady as it had in the snow and ice. This saya a lot for the machine because, to be honest, I wasn't paying much attention to my riding technique; I was there to see birds.

There were still five whoopers that had not started their spring migration, and we were able to find and see all of them. It was a great day. We were there much longer than we should have been.

Back om the freeway and homeward bound. The facts that I needed to know now could only be calculated from the record book that had been kept during the ride. Gas mileage, as always, was a big question. I had only gone on reserve once, and that had been because we hadn't filled up when we left home. There is a red fuel warning light on the lower edge of the tachometer housing; it comes on when the fuel level drops below approximately 0.8 gallons [3.0 litres]. I had to switch to reserve before the light came on, though. When the light does blink on, it's best to find a station quickly, because you are close to being out of gas. There is very little warning time.

On the trip, the 3.4-gallon [13-litre but actually closer to 11.5-litre useable] tank was always enough to make it to scheduled stops. The reserve was never needed except for that first time. Figures now show that the average for the trip was 51 miles per gallon (50.99 mpg US, 61.24 mpg IMP, 21.7 km/L). That isn't at all bad; it should make most owners happy. There was no oil useage at all on the 2600-mile test trip.

The only thing that went wrong on the whole test ride - and on subsequent weekend outings with the Maxim[-X] - was that the metal fork-seal cover came loose. At highway speeds the wind would push it up the fork tube and make it rattle and jingle against the forks. Not really what you could call a major breakdown.

I finished the test with the distinct impression that the Yamaha XJ700X Maxim[-X] combines a lot of good points from a lot of different motorcycle styles. It has the trendy look of a cruiser, the handling and response of a sport bike, the ergonomics of a standard, and the comfort and long-distance capability of a top solo touring machine. For putting all this good stuff together in one motorcycle, the Yamaha designers deserve a big round of applause.

If you are interested in a mid-sized tiger, take a look at this machine. The Yamaha XJ700X Maxim[-X] has a jungle cat's power and agility; its appearance is dainty, but with a visual sensation of forward motion. Maybe the subtle design hides much that it has to offer. Don't let it hide from you - go out looking for it.

by Patti Carpenter - Road Rider  Magazine, August 1985