MALIGNED MASTERPIECE

East Germany's MZ two strokes of the Seventies were often regarded as slow, quirky and unreliable, but they generated a faithful following from those who appreciated their fine handling and user-friendly features. John Nutting was one of the believers and recalls testing one for Motor Cycle.

EDITOR Bob said the magazine got more than a bit of flack because I'd listed MZ's TS250 amongst the Top 20 bikes of the Seventies. It didn't surprise me now any more than in the past when I'd expressed a liking for the East German two stroke singles.
In the 21st century most riders regard them as even more of an anachronism than when they were at the height of their modest popularity in the Seventies. That's because motorcycling is now much less of a utilitarian activity. Few riders take to bikes because of financial hardship. Almost all - we're talking the UK here - want a bike to portray them as a lairy racer and the remainder looking for a commuter bike are happy to spend a fortune on stylish scooters.
Virtues such as a low retail price, ruggedness, simplicity and low running costs are rarely considered these days. But in the Seventies they were still key issues for buyers who, for a few hundred pounds, had a choice of East European offerings such as CZ, Jawa, Cossack and MZ.
What made the MZ appealing was that unlike its competitors - none of which I'd get out of bed for - it was made robustly and went round corners as assuredly as many Japanese machines. Against it was, well, an appearance that could best be described as functional.
But, as an MZ rider will attest, when you're riding the bike, you can't see it, can you?
Part of the functionality meant that an MZ
came with, among others, the vitally important feature of a fully-enclosed drive chain. No Japanese bikes, other than shafties, could offer even that.
Personally, I found them attractive in a peculiarly honest way. What you saw was
what you got. They were designed to provide transport for cash-strapped Communist Bloc riders who might not have access to a local dealer and who had to be self reliant in keeping them in good fettle.
And yet the MZ was a much better prospect than its fellow eastern European competitors, with a higher quality of finish, a low weight of just over 300 pounds and a lusty engine that was ideal for cross-country touring.
The 243cc TS250 of 1972 model that I tested for the weekly Motor Cycle had its roots in the Fifties as a derivative of a 125cc single. After World War II, the assets of the huge DKW factory at Zschopau were divvied up with the 125cc design being offered to a number of factories including BSA (where it became the Bantam), Harley-Davidson, Yamaha and the fledgling Motorrad Zschopau.
One of the first versions of the 243cc model was the uniquely styled ES250 with a fuel tank that enclosed the steering head and provided the headlamp cowl. But colourful pastel paintwork and leading-link front suspension only appealed to a limited market.

Not fast at 81 mph but a delightful partner for day-to-day use.

The TS250 introduced for the Seventies was altogether more workmanlike. Its engine was mounted to a spine frame with a pivot behind the gearbox and a large rubber mount at the cylinder head, enabling most of the vibration to be absorbed at its usual cruising speed of between 50 and 65 mph.
With a low seat and an optional stubby flat handlebar attached to a telescopic fork, the MZ felt like a BMW flat twin of the period, and thanks to the engine design it had other characteristics in common with the expensive German flat twins.
As well as being light to handle, the MZ had a two stroke engine that provided gutsy throttle response and although it revved barely to 6000 rpm, offered plenty of torque. A novel feature of the otherwise conventional unit was the use of a crankshaft-mounted clutch that added to its flywheel effect.