Ah, the little GPz—officially known as the ZX400C2, but affectionately referred to as that trusty old workhorse. This bike has certainly seen some miles and swapped hands more times than a good story at a pub. It started life as an official UK import and made its way into my friend Tony’s garage, where it stayed for a couple of years. Tony, being the kind of guy who enjoys squeezing every bit of joy out of a bike, used the GPz regularly until the inevitable happened—he upgraded to something bigger, shinier, and with a few more horses under the seat. So, the GPz moved on to its next chapter with my brother, Ridz.

Kawasaki GPz400
Now, Ridz—legend that he is—used the GPz primarily for commuting. A practical choice, sure, but don’t let that fool you. He didn’t just stick to city roads and daily work slogs. No, he gave the GPz a taste of adventure! One of the highlights was a long weekend ride up to Windermere, where the little GPz proved its mettle by bravely tackling the infamous Hardknott Pass—a stretch of road known for its hair-raising gradients and bends sharp enough to make a snake jealous. I can just imagine Ridz grinning ear to ear as the bike soldiered on through those twists and turns. The GPz may not have been the fastest or flashiest thing on two wheels, but it had the heart of a lion—or at least a very determined housecat.
After a few good years with Ridz, the time came for yet another handover. And who better to take the reins than me? Well, actually, it was for my wife, as a little run-around. We figured the GPz was perfect for zipping about, running errands, and maybe the occasional casual ride when the sun decided to show up (which, being the UK, wasn’t too often). The bike had already proven itself reliable and resilient, so why not let it serve one more purpose in our family?

Kawasaki GPz400
But like all good things, our time with the GPz had to come to an end. By early 2005, we decided it was time to let the old girl move on once again. She had served three riders well, tackled mountains, commutes, and weekend spins, and by then, it felt like she had earned a retirement—although, knowing the GPz, she probably went on to serve yet another owner with the same plucky spirit.
This bike, despite its modest size and power, had a life full of stories and adventures. It wasn’t just a machine; it was a part of the family, passed from one person to the next, each rider adding their own chapter to the GPz’ s journey. I imagine somewhere out there, she’s still cruising along, making memories with her latest owner.