In its heyday, Ideal Jawa (India) Ltd. had a wide variety of models on sale, ranging from a tiny 50cc moped to a twin-cylinder 350cc roadster. Of course, the various popular 250cc, single-cylinder models are what ultimately defined the Yezdi and Jawa brands, and you’ll see or hear about them more often.
While the 350 was the ill-fated flagship, it nonetheless has a unique origin story and is best characterized as a ‘parts-bin’ special. Special thanks must go to this Yezdi’s owner, Hakim Rawat, who was kind enough to let us spend a tranquil morning with it so we could bring you this story.
Before it came along, Yezdi’s line-up was primarily multiple iterations and variants using the original 250cc Jawa Type 353 as their genesis.
Before we tell you how the Yezdi 350 came to be, we need to set the scene, as it were. In the late ‘80s – up until the Yezdi arrived – if you wanted to make the bold choice of standing out from the crowd with a 350cc machine, you had only two mainstream options: the venerable Royal Enfield Bullet 350 and the unnervingly fast Yamaha RD350.
Yezdi wanted to field its own entrant into this segment, and it decided to use partner Jawa’s easily available twin-cylinder 350cc engine from the overseas Type 638 model to expedite matters.
This twin-cylinder motor was bolted to the same basic chassis from a Roadking, with some distinguishing visual and mechanical elements. These included a unique twin-pod analogue gauge setup, a new headlight and tail-lamp, as well as larger 18-inch rims, as opposed to the other Yezdis, which ran on 16-inchers.
Just like the mechanicals, the body panels on the Yezdi 350 were also an unusual concoction, with some unique elements like the fenders, fuel tank, slatted tail-light and round headlight. However, the side panels and fuel filler were borrowed from existing Yezdis. While this is not a unique-looking bike per se, to my eyes, the clean lines of an old bike are an enjoyable breath of fresh air in today’s times of ever-growing winglets and sharper, more aggressive designs.
On paper, the 350cc, 2-stroke, twin-cylinder Yezdi 350 was directly comparable to the Yamaha RD350. Reality, however, painted a different picture, for the Yezdi’s engine was quite archaic even by the standards of the late ‘80s. Its origins could be traced back over three decades before it went on sale, when the first Jawa 350 twin debuted in Czechoslovakia and, as a result, was no match for the properly modern RD350.
For example, the 4-speed gearbox on the Yezdi was the same unit as on its smaller siblings and proved to be a far cry from the 6-speeder seen on the RD. Another example of its old-world underpinnings is that the Yezdi 350 used a single Jikov carburettor – like its smaller 250cc siblings – to feed both cylinders, whereas the Yamaha’s engine was fed by twin Mikuni carbs.
Speaking of comparisons with the Yamaha RD350, I have been lucky enough to ride both the Yezdi 350 as well as the RD, and they actually do feel remarkably different. I remember being petrified aboard the RD in the past on this same patch of road, as it propelled me forward at an alarming rate with its feeble brakes struggling to keep its vociferous and violent engine on a leash. Its clutch action was a proper test of forearm strength and could match V-Twin Ducatis for effort. All in all, it’s a machine that demands a lot from the rider but rewards you with the performance it can deliver.
At the other end of the spectrum, you have the laidback Yezdi 350. From the moment you fire up the engine, its mellow character is plainly evident. The beat from the twin pipes is much slower, unlike the RD’s fast-paced cacophony. Once you get moving, the gap between the two widens to a yawning chasm.
The Yezdi feels much gentler in its power delivery, and there’s no sudden surge anywhere in the rev band. To its credit, the twin-cylinder motor is quite refined, and you can lug it around in a higher gear at lower speeds too. Clutch action is delightfully light, although the 1-up, 3-down gear shift pattern takes a minute to get used to. The bike also felt delightfully narrow between my legs, so much so that I was reminded of the slender, new-age Bajaj-built Triumphs in this regard!
However, one similarity to the RD is present. While the Yezdi had an unusually large 200mm front drum brake, its actual effectiveness was about as much as the RD’s weak binders. To sum up, the Yezdi 350’s gentle soul felt closer to the cast-iron Royal Enfield Bullet 350 of yesteryear than to its direct Japanese rival.
Pair that with the Yezdi’s temperamental electrics as well as offbeat starting procedure, and you can see why the 350 never really took off – despite costing less than both the Bullet and RD. Another factor that contributed to its demise wasn’t the bike itself, but the timing of its arrival. In an era when fuel efficiency was quickly becoming paramount and 100cc bikes were fast gaining traction, the larger machines (especially thirsty and messy 2-strokes) were fast fading into the history books.
Yezdi manufactured the 350 for only a handful of years in the late ‘80s, and experts in classic bike circles wager that only about 700 were built during this period. Over time, most of them have been relegated to the scrap heap, and precious few survive today, making it a properly rare sighting on our roads.
Funnily enough, in recent years, it’s that very rarity that has worked in the Yezdi 350’s favour. Today, the minuscule sliver of tidy examples that do crop up for sale routinely fall in the same ridiculously (!) expensive price ballpark as a Yamaha RD350. Quite the fairy-tale ending, no?
