I’ve just bought a KLR650. It’s a 2007 model, and it’s making sure my feet are rmly anchored in the real world.
There’s lots of great things about working for a bike magazine, and the obvious one is getting to ride new bikes. The only problem with that from a professional point of view is it’s easy to lose touch with the rides, limitations and frustrations of a massive group of owners who aren’t being pampered and given the best of everything all the time. I’ve just had six months or so with BMW’s F800GS, and my only complaint with that bike was I felt it did half the work on rides for me. It made everything so easy. Like so many modern bikes, the electronics, rider aids, and superbly easy-to-use motors mean the rider can make less decisions, and the time taken to make those decisions has been expanded considerably over the bikes I grew up with. And of course, BMW Motorrad made sure I had access to the right people and tech advice to ensure that bike was always a great pleasure to ride.
Even my own personal bike, a carbureted, single-cylinder ’95 model, is so well-sorted I
feel it’s an easy option on just about any terrain.
That was the pampered world I’d been in when the somewhat beat-up KLR made its home in my shed.
My rst smackdown came from the NSW motor registry – or whatever it calls itself these days. Changing the rego from an interstate owner to NSW was an exercise
“I wasn’t game to ride too far from home, waiting for it to break down. ”
in pedantic paperwork at its worst. I could actually see the importance of that, so it was kind of okay, but the nancial gouge is a disgrace. The bike was registered interstate on the day I picked it up. When I changed the rego to NSW two days later I was told I could ush existing rego down the toilet and start again from zero in NSW. “Pay up,” was the stone-faced attitude.
As I was seething away about that, I was casually slugged for the stamp duty.
With all that done and paid for I set out to nally enjoy riding the bike.
It’s actually mechanically fairly sound –I think – but it’s pretty rough cosmetically. There was no need to sort through my riding suits to see which one t the look of the bike best. A pair of old jeans, a footy jersey and elastic-sided work boots would’ve been most appropriate. The plastics were all scratched to the shithouse and the front panels were broken at the lower mounts. The ’bars were gira e-tall and a little bent, the seat was held on only by gravity and the front brake was woeful. I wasn’t game to ride too far from home, waiting for it to break down the rst time. I didn’t want to have to push it too far.
The more I rode it, tentatively working it a little harder all the time, increasing the distances and decreasing the nursing, the more con dent I became. I was just starting to smile when I pulled up to the smell of burning plastic. One of the rear blinkers had vibrated loose and melted in the heat of the exhaust. As I walked around the bike I saw one of the footpegs had vibrated loose, too. The pipe’s a tad loud, but it does let the motor work well, and the oil had vanished from the sight glass (it all returned to the correct level in a couple of minutes sitting idle).
So where does that leave me?
A smiling, happy adventure rider with some work to do, and, I hope, a whole lot in common with a lot of other real-world adventure riders.
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On the cover: Keith Dostal and his Super Ténéré made short work of the high water levels around the 2016 northern Congregation.
Adventure Rider Magazine is published bi-monthly by Mayne Media Pty Ltd
Publisher Kurt Quambusch
Editor Tom Foster tom@maynemedia.com.au
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CE Armour Safety Kit (elbows & shoulders) & HDF Back Protector
Armidale’s Mark Reynoldswas the 昀椀rst rider to arrive. Damn that TriumphT100soundedgood.
We
It’s ad manager Mitch on the KLR Shop Bike, trying
few moves after the skills demo.
The youngest adventure rider, Jack Croker, 20, from Krambach, NSW.
Stuart Ball was on hand to tell everyone about the Great Australian Ride.
Vince Strang wandered over to meet Lee Palmer of Cross Roads Motorcycles and have a yarn about the new HARD Kits bikes.
Graeme Cramp from Albion Park Rail is loving retirement. His 1987 R80GS won him the ‘Highest Kilometres’ award with 464,000km. Graeme also took out ‘Oldest Rider’ prize.
September 2016 saw a fair splash of rain fall in the New England area of NSW. It was also the time scheduled for the second annual Congregation. With close to 50mm in the three days leading up to the gathering there were a few furrowed brows in the Adventure Rider Magazine o ce as wet-weather gear was dug out of storage and gumboots jammed in panniers.
But it was all a false alarm…sort of.
The Congregation itself was scheduled for Saturday, September 17, and as riders began to arrive on Friday the 16th, skies were blue, the sun shone and the venue – Green Valley Farm near Inverell – was a picturesque delight, begging riders to ing o their riding gear and prance around barefoot on the springy, green grass. That was especially so when the riding gear was just a tad muddy and maybe a little saturated.
While Green Valley Farm was sunny, warm and fairly dry, the approaches, especially the causeway on Moredun Dams Road, were a tad damp, and that meant most bikes and riders arrived looking a little moist. That particular causeway was running fast on Friday. At least the soakings may have washed away the stains from the underwear of a few riders. A big bike heading sideways on a submerged, fast- owing causeway can make even the most experienced riders catch their breath.
BMW Motorrad’s Miles Davis staged some impressive skills demonstrations, getting up close and very personal with spectators.
Col Meacham rode his 1977 TF185 Suzuki in from Inverell. That might not sound like much, but Col’s ridden this same little two-stroke across The Simpson and through some serious Aussie outback.
There was plenty happening on the Vince Strang Motorcycles stand.
Mal and Karen at Adventure Bike Australia offered some great riding advice and excellent adventure product.
So damn good
As Friday evening crept up from the surrounding hills the brilliant sta at Green Valley Farm made sure there was plenty of dry rewood, excellent catering, music(!), clean amenities with lots of hot water, a huge camp kitchen and, overall, it’d be hard to imagine a better venue for a meeting like this one.
The great weather continued on Saturday as more riders arrived and set up camp. Yarns were told, bikes checked out and excellent loops ridden as the day progressed. BMW Motorrad’s Miles Davis gave some very impressive skills demonstrations on the damp, slippery ostrich paddock – once the ostrich had been herded away, of course – Marty HC was loading up a free DualSport Australia GPX loop and handing out route sheets from the Vince Strang Motorcycles stand, Darren ‘Big Dog’Wilson and Lee Palmer were putting riders on HARD Kits bikes right, left and centre and Mal and Karen at Adventure Bike Australia o ered some great riding advice and excellent adventure product. A low-key inclusion was Nigel Harvey of Triumph Australia. Nige wheeled in on a 2016 Explorer and was happy to give riders some well-in formed info, and a few jumped on the bike to nd out what all the excitement was about.
Friday-night burger-and-chips included in the
NigelHarveyof TriumphAustralia wheeled in on a 2016Explorerandwashappyto give riders some well-informedinfo. Afewjumpedonthe bike to 昀椀ndout what all the excitement was about.
Below: How many woolsheds do you know with a beer garden?
Allan Watson made the most of the
camping fee.
Here’s a bike with a story. Barry Bonning’s 1988 Africa Twin has done a Paris-Dakar and an Australian Safari. It still looks immaculate.
Julie Almstrom, Kingha Tanajewska and Amy Harburg spearheaded a strong female contingent.
NoRtheRN CoNgRegatIoN
All this was against a backdrop of riders yarning about bikes, rides and a thousand other adventurerelated topics.
Recognition
For dinner on Saturday evening everyone piled into the Green Valley Farm woolshed, a venue which really is a woolshed. Green Valley Farm is a large, working sheep farm and entertains guests like the Congregation crew as an extra activity. There’s a lot of commitment made to the ‘extra activity’ though. How many woolsheds do you know that have a beer garden complete with fairy lights? And all kinds of rides for the kids?
Publisher Kurt gave a hearty and well-received speech, prizes were awarded, and the excellent catering continued as the evening made its way to a full-moon backdrop straight from a fairy tale.
The light rain started in the early hours of Sunday morning and campers, still smiling and slightly bloated from dinner the night before, packed up tents and swags and headed for their respective destinations.
It was an awesome, zero-stress event and a credit to all involved.
The only real stress was for the organisers. How can they possibly run another Congregation as good as this one?
Make sure you’re at the next one to nd out.
An out-and-out lucky dip prize of an Adventure Rider Magazine mini jump starter went to Kent Ritsch. Kent blasted up from the NSW central coas
Below: Green Valley Farm was a fantastic venue.
Above: Daniel Watson’s a great dad. He spent ages doubling his daughter, Rachel, around the campsite. Around and around and around and around they went at about 10kph. We got dizzy just watching them. Daniel’s family had three generations at the Congregation. Daniel’s father, Allan, and son, Lucas, were there as well.
Australia’s largest range of high-performance tyres for the serious adventure riders.
Gone shaped pear-
Ray Lindner found a huge heart can beat in the population of even the smallest town.
Words and images: Ray Lindner
Main: This volunteer crew were obviously very experienced and one could only be impressed by the thorough assessment of Leigh and the care taken in moving him.
Right: Not a lot of people and services available where this adventure unfolded.
Along with a few friends I recently nished a ride in Margaret River, Western Australia.
In the lead up to the event we planned our route back to Melbourne to allow some adventure riding after the mind-numbing, black-top grind across the Nullarbor. That saw partners Leigh and Megan on a pair of F800GS BMWs, Phil on a 650 V-Strom and myself on a Triumph Tiger XC head northeast from Kalgoorlie to Laverton. From there we planned to ride The Great Central Road through to Yulara. We knew this to be a challenge in the making, but reckoned we’d researched well, and we had the right gear and knowledge to get the job done. All of us had a reasonable amount of experience on dirt roads.
Alas! This was not to be. About 35km into the dirt Leigh had a serious o in a heavy sand drift and upended his BMW.
Drive by
When Megan and Phil found Leigh he was trapped under the heavily laden bike. It took the two of them to right the 800 and to start some assessment of the general situation. In the meantime I was up front unaware of what had happened. I’d realised I didn’t have any followers, but was expecting them to come into view at any moment. u
A 4WD came along and, when asked, advised there were three bikes back along the road and it looked like one rider had fallen. I’d really enjoy meeting that guy again. I’d like to give him a lesson in common decency. When someone is, or even appears to be, in trouble, you stop to ask if you can assist. This guy didn’t. He drove straight past.
I rode back, by which time Leigh was propped up on the roadway embankment looking a lot worse for wear. He was conscious and breathing okay, but obviously in a fair amount of pain.
Hats off
Having just recently completed a First Aid For Motorcyclists course I knew if a patient was breathing normally you don’t remove the helmet as this can cause further injuries. Leave the helmet for the emergency responders. The patient will always want to remove their own helmet, and often it’s done before anyone can intervene. That was case here.
Leigh’s helmet had been somewhat remodelled with a very signi cant dent in the rear of the shell, obviously after impact with the front-brake uid reservoir which had been snapped o the bike. What had occurred in the dynamics of the accident to make that happen I can only guess, but it’s not something I’d like to nd out rst hand.
Realising Leigh was never getting out of his current location without signi cant help I set o the SOS from my SPOT tracker. I was over-awed at just how e ciently this system worked.
Left: The group had researched well, and had the right gear and knowledge to get the job done. All had reasonable experience on dirt roads.
Below: The 昀椀rst car was driven by a Taiwanese tourist whose wife had nursing experience.
making Leigh more comfortable while assessing his injuries. It was most likely he had broken a collarbone and maybe done some rib damage. We were all concerned about the knock on the head as he kept asking the same questions: “Where are we? What road are we on?”
Then a 4WD utility approached, driven by a young mine worker who had a satellite phone which I used to call 000. During that call the 000 centre was receiving advice regarding our coordinates thanks to my SPOT messaging. I was able to then tell more about Leigh’s injuries and feel reassured the emergency-response system was well and truly working.
My wife and son each got phone calls from the USA to say the SOS signal had been received and these calls were quickly followed by calls from the Australian Maritime Safety Authority in Canberra which had been alerted by the monitoring company in the USA that assistance was required.
Follow-up calls continued from Canberra advising what was being done in order to respond to the emergency.
By now both USA and Canberra had our coordinates on this remote road and had set about locating the nearest emergency responders.
What followed was extraordinary to say the least.
Good move
The rst car to come along was driven by a Taiwanese tourist. His wife just happened to have nursing experience and set about
We had a St. John’s ambulance operated by volunteers on site in what seemed like no more than 45 minutes after the fall. This volunteer crew were obviously very experienced and one could only be impressed by the thorough assessment of Leigh and the care taken in moving him. From there he was taken to the small hospital in Laverton.
Neck check
Local police also arrived on site and we found them to be great. They made the comment that they wished more people had devices like the SPOT as they often have to search for people in this remote part of our great country. In our case they had exact coordinates.
While the ambulance crew was treating Leigh on the roadside another 4WD utility pulled up. I asked if there was any way he knew of to get the damaged bike back to town. “Leave that with me,” he said, and by some miraculous means a tilt tray on a large 4WD truck pulled up. The driver, Andy, had been contacted via Sat phone by the ute driver. He collected the bike as he was passing and delivered it back to town that night.
Andy turned out to be an interesting guy. He’d ridden three Finke desert races and driven overland buses from London to Kathmandu no less than 10 times, not to mention various routes in Africa.
All the camping gear, luggage and panniers from Leigh’s bike were loaded
into the police vehicle and taken back to town.
After a quick trip to the hospital to check on Leigh we were informed he’d have to be airlifted to Perth for further assessment and to check for neck and spinal damage. It was apparent we’d need to get Megan to Perth to be by his side as quickly as possible.
Mates’ rates
Back at the hotel we informed Denise, the publican, of our misfortune, and quickly learned just how generous this small town of 400 or so people could be.
“Your rooms are free tonight if you need to stay on,” she o ered and, “What else can we do for you?”
Back to the police station we went –driven by ‘Johnno’ from the pub – to collect Leigh’s gear and to ask who might be able to assist in getting Leigh and Megan’s bikes back to civilisation. It was suggested we talk with a local contractor who was ‘a great guy’
What an understatement!
This guy and his friends were just amazing from the time we met them.
As I explained the situation I was introduced to the local shire engineer who just happened to be visiting. The council worker we met on the road and Andy, driver of tilt tray, reported to the shire engineer and he was keen to assist us as best he could.
Leigh was own out by Royal Flying Doctor Service to Perth, and as Megan couldn’t accompany him, Rex, the local contractor, had a mate who was travelling back to Kalgoorlie that night and was happy to o er a lift. All of Leigh and Megan’s luggage was packed onto a pallet and wrapped in shrinkwrap, then placed on the ute going to Kalgoorlie. Megan’s bike went on a trailer behind the vehicle. From Kalgoorlie Megan ew to Perth next morning to be with Leigh.
A phone call to a lady who once lived in Kalgoorlie and who was a member of my home motorcycle club in Williamstown,
Above: A St Johns ambulance, operated by volunteers, was on site in about 45 minutes.
Below: The luggage was packed onto a pallet and wrapped in shrinkwrap, then placed on the ute going to Kalgoorlie.
Victoria, resulted in a free motel room for Megan and a ride to the airport next morning.
What had all this cost the group to this point? As close to zippo as you want to get!
But then the pallet of goods, plus Leigh and Megan’s bikes, had to get back to Melbourne. The guys who had assisted thus far set about calling everyone they knew in the transport industry who might be able to get this to Melbourne at ‘mates’ rates’.
Be prepared
Long after we were all back in Melbourne the people we met after the accident have continued to assist in ways that amaze us all.
A frame was built to carry the two bikes, and the bikes and pallet of goods were delivered to Perth free of charge from where they were transported back to Melbourne, all for less than a quoted price to transport one bike.
If ever you’re heading into remote country consider the use of a device such as a SPOT or PLB. Like me, it may not be yourself who needs help, and if you can assist someone else you’ll feel great about your decision to carry this equipment.
Make sure your ambulance cover is paid up. Leigh’s ight on RFDS was fully covered by his Victorian ambulance subscription as against something north of $30,000 if he didn’t have such cover. If such unfortunate circumstances occur I can only hope you’re near a great little country town like Laverton, WA, and get the good luck and support we received.
Leigh is recuperating well and will be happy once the neck brace comes o . We’re planning to revisit Laverton in the not too distant future.
Ray Lindner scores a PLB
Ray’s story had a good ending, and to celebrate, the folks at KTI, Australia’s leading producer of quality PLBs, are sending Ray a PLB to include in his riding kit. In this case there was time for signals to bounce back and forth from the US, but if it’s an emer gency situation where min utes count, a PLB can mean the di erence, and KTI wants to see Adventure Rider Magazine’s readers properly equipped.
Do you have a good rescue story?
If so, send it to tom@maynemedia.com.au.
KTI is so keen to see riders carrying emergency beacons they’re going to give a free PLB to a rescue story we publish in each of the next few issues. It doesn’t have to be a story using a PLB, but it needs to be veri able, and it needs usable pics.
If you’ve been in trouble once, you should know how important a PLB can be. Share your story and make sure you’re prepared if it ever happens again.
Some people lose themselves in images of immaculately restored vintage bikes or go gooey at the specs on the latest Dakar bike. Rick Atkinson, an automotive engineer based on Sydney’s northern beaches, gets very, very focussed when it comes to tyre moulds. There’s nothing like a really well-sorted tyre production line to get Rick feeling really content.
Rick’s Managing Director of Motoz, so his fascination with tyre technology is a bit of a bonus, really. It sits nicely alongside his experience in the international business world, especially import/ export and tyre production. Rick kicked o Hyosung in Australia, for instance, and although Motoz might seem a newish name Downunder, the company’s been producing and selling tyres overseas – very successfully – for yonks.
Now Motoz is o ering a range of adventure tyres.
Rick’s the right bloke in the right place at the right time.
Do it right
Development of the current range of Tractionator Adventures has been a bit of a rocky road. The Motoz development team thought they’d come up with some great tyres during the Australian drought of the early 2000s, only to nd when the tyres hit the wet they were suddenly less than ideal. Not one to settle for a product that’s not the way he wants it, Rick went back to the drawing
Left: There’s a few tread patterns available in the Motoz Adventure range. This one on the rear of the editor’s KLR is an aggressive Desert H/T. It’s a tyre that’s getting great reviews. Below: Here’s a couple of less aggressive, more generalpurpose examples ideal for the big dualsporters. u
board – a computer with specialist design software, actually – and began looking for answers.
The only problem with making changes to tyres the way Rick contemplated was it meant making entirely new moulds, a very expensive and timeconsuming process.
Having built the company in his spare time to start with, Rick had no hesitation in committing to the process again once he was full-time on the Motoz job. Designs were re ned, tyres were tested, huge investments of time and nance were made, and now, adventure riders
Above: Ready to ship.
Right: Nick Selleck – on the cover of issue #18 –is a big fan of the new Tractionators.
Below: A tyre mould is a precision-engineered and expensive piece of equipment. Rick Atkinson of Motoz put a great deal of time and research into designing and re昀椀ning the Tractionator Adventure moulds.
can at last t a tyre designed in Australia for Australian conditions.
The Tractionator Adventure range is not only made to handle the extreme terrain Australia o ers, but the tyres are speedrated to cope with the performance of the big-bore bikes currently ruling the adventure roost. Do some checking. Chances are the tyres you’re using now with such con dence won’t meet those same standards. It’s not just the tread pattern and depth. The compounds are vital, and Motoz has spent many years researching, trialling and re ning its construction and compounds to ensure the Tractionators do the job.
The result?
Motoz says its tyres are ‘technically 25 per cent stronger than many adventure tyres and feature deeper tread than most adventure tyres’. Tread design is unique. The blocks self-sharpen for better grip through the life of the tyre and self-protect for longer tyre life.
You be the judge
There’s only one way to nd out whether the Motoz guys have got it right, and that’s try a set. Adventure Rider Magazine’s publisher has a pair on his 990 and he’s sold on them. The editor has just slipped a new pair on his KLR and he’s still grinning at how easy they were to t. Nick Selleck at Maschine is fairly handy sort of rider and he’s been using the Tractionators on his 1190 for a while. His opinions are fairly straightforward: “I’m really surprised by them,” articulated the incredibly well-spoken Victorian. “I rst used them in November last year. I was just so impressed the rst time I rode on them. I spent a week on that rst ride on the KTM1190R, and where the stock TKC80s would last about 1500km for me, I get about 4500km out of the Tractionators. The durability’s really good and the tyre grip’s really good. There’s tyres out there that last well but don’t grip. The Tractionators do both. And it’s an Australian company, so that’s a good thing.”
Grab a set and give them a try. They might be just what you’re looking for.
ADVR_#18_Cover2.indd
Image: Wilkinson Photography
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TransTer four-day:
Want to ride like a Maschine? Here’s your chance.
TransTerra four-day: NSW
The TransTerra series of rides is the work of Trudi and Nick Selleck from Maschine, a couple very much devoted to o ering premium adventure rides to people who appreciate the meaning of ‘premium’. As the company’s promotional material says: ‘Eat. Ride. Sleep. Repeat...for four days.’
What that implies is there’s not much else a rider on a Maschine event needs to do, and as it turns out, that’s pretty close to the mark.
There were three TransTerra four-day rides in 2016. The rst was in Victoria in April, then Queensland in August and, nally, in the beautiful mid-north of NSW in October.
The roll-up for the nal ride was a fair indication of the quality of the rst two, and Adventure Rider Magazine was invited to spend a couple of days tagging along.
Above: Father-and-son team Leroy (left) and Terry Day seemed to enjoy themselves. Terry loaned Leroy his BMW F800GS and jumped on a CRF250L.
Left: The routes took in the best terrain and scenery, and allowed time to enjoy both.
Below: Nick and Trudi Selleck have plenty of experience running events. Terry Day – behind Trudi – paid close attention during brie昀椀ng. u
Image: TF
Image: TF
tRaNs teRRa
The fundamentals
Around 70 riders sat down to breakfast at the moderately up-market Quay Lime Bar And Grill on the waterfront in Port Macquarie, northern NSW, ready for four days of mixed riding in one of Australia’s most dualsport-friendly regions. The course was set to loop around through the mountains and hinterland of the New England area, north to Co s Harbour and back to Port Macquarie again. On the way riders would have their
catering, accommodation and route- nding needs covered, and if something went a little awry, assistance in the form of sweeps, a medic and a baggage trailer were all laid on. All the riders had to do was…well…eat, ride and sleep.
To their credit, all the riders seemed to be fairly good at these three basics.
Planned
Maschine has done some fairly ambitious and successful rides in the past, and the experience started the organisers thinking about what they’d learned from taking groups on big tours –like the 2016 run from Alice Springs through the Kimberley. One thing that stood out was a section of riders found the level of tness and endurance needed for a week like that one very challenging. Also, the time away from work and family made things di cult for a lot of people. Nick Selleck explained: “With the week-long rides we see a lot of fatigue kick in by day four. A lot of people aren’t used to
Top: It was great riding for big and small bikes.
Middle-left: Good brie昀椀ngs kept everyone informed.
Bottom: Are there any pics of Nick Selleck with his front wheel on the ground?
Right: Rick Atkinson of Motoz came along for his 昀椀rst ride on a big adventure bike and claimed to be converted.
spending multiple days on the bike. So this year we thought we’d have a go at a series of shorter-length rides.
“For the TransTerra Four Days we thought to stage the rides over, basically, a four-day weekend – Friday through to Monday. People could take a day o work either end of the weekend and get four days free for only two days annual leave.”
The strategy seems to be working. The rider list for this particular Trans Terra was a healthy one, and, as Nick pointed out, “We have more riders this year than at the same event last year.”
In the future the expectation is for the Maschine calendar to include a mix of long and short rides.
Organised
Each day ran to an amazingly well-planned, well-executed itinerary which made the most of riders’ expectations.
After breakfast and brie ng the all-clear was given and a wide variety of bikes hauled their co eed-up, full-as-googs riders out to follow arrows, route sheets or GPS tracks, depending on their preference and level of equipment. On this nal fourday for 2016 there was everything from a CRF250L ridden by Terry Day – Terry gave his son Leroy his Beemer for the TransTerra –through a KLX450, Africa Twins, a GHR Safari bike, plenty of BMWs, Triumphs, Yamahas, KTMS and just about every brand imaginable. There was even a Ducati Multistrada Enduro 1200 which came in for plenty of rock-star attention.
From the start each day the course wandered its way around, following the
Image: Wilkinson Photography
Image: Wilkinson Photography
Image: Wilkinson Photography
best tracks and including the sightseeing highlights in the regions covered. Things like lookouts, historical sites, tourist attractions or just amazing geological features were all marked on each day’s maps, and riders were free to stop or pass by as they chose. Co ee stops, lunch venues and fuel supplies were all pinpointed and the variety meant all 70 riders didn’t nd themselves queued up at the same small, village general store with a single fuel pump…although Bellbrook on the second day probably hadn’t seen that many customers at one time since Fred ‘Thunderbolt’Ward and his gang arrived and o ered a few horses at a good price.
The scenic highlights were much appreciated, but by far the biggest standout was the terrain
itself. After some rain in the days prior there was very little dust. The overcast and lowering skies of the rst day o ered hardly more than a short section of drizzle here and there, and the sunshine and blue skies for the rest of the event meant the riding was about as good as it could be.
Of course the sweeps kept an eye on everyone and cleared each section, the luggage trailer hauled riders’ spare clobber from place to place, and the medic trailed along o ering good advice to anyone silly enough to slam their foot into a tree trunk and try for sympathy during dinner.
It was a very competent and e cient support crew from front to back, and the riding was superb, especially for riders on the big adventure bikes, who purred around some really fabulous dualsport terrain before lobbing in to the overnight stop at Mount Seaview Resort on the rst afternoon. Mind you, some of guys on the smaller bikes had whopping great grins as they fanged about the place. It seemed they were very happy with the trails as well.
Retyrement
After whatever necessary maintenance and bragging was dealt with, there was time for a clean up, a change of clothes and a drink or two before dinner. While the assembly u
Should’ve run a Motoz.
ALPINE EXPLORER VICTORIA
Image: Wilkinson Photography
Image: Wilkinson Photography
watched for the gate to drop on the selfserve bain marie, Nick handled the brie ng for the following day and introduced Rick Atkinson of Motoz tyres. Rick had some examples of the new Tractionators and gave a rundown on how the tyres had developed and some hints about Motoz’ plans for the future.
Rick is a keen enduro rider and loves his 450EXC. Adventure Rider Magazine wondered how he’d enjoyed his rst day on a BMW F800GS.
“It’s awesome!” bellowed the clearly very happy new adventurer. “I’ve moved over to the dark side!” he beamed. “It was really fun!
Ride and learn
While the more con dent riders went like cut cats or puttered along in a carefree and environmentally friendly manner, those who opted for on-trail coaching enjoyed the bene ts of Nick Selleck’s expertise as he accompanied them, watching their riding styles and o ering helpful tips and advice where it o ered the greatest bene t. Not only did Nick o er the service during the ride itself, but each night he’d sit with the day’s riders and run through video, pointing out various aspects of their riding styles.
It was an excellent service.
Another day
The second day ran in similar fashion to the rst: a leisurely breakfast and brie ng, load the maps or route sheets, then hit the trail. It was a repeat of the rst day as far as great riding went, with inclusions like Racecourse Trail and the old KempseyArmidale road, lots of waterfalls and sightseeing spots, some good grunt work to get the bikes over the trails early in the day and then cruising into a ash motel in Armidale.
Anyone who’s ridden New England will know what we mean. Anyone who
Above: Phil Emery carved up on an ex-GHR Honda Safari bike.
Right: There were some optional harder sections for those who wanted them.
Below: Socialising and relaxing form a big part of the TransTerra rides.
hasn’t should be trying to get there ASAP –maybe book now for TransTerra NSW in 2017.
Adventure Rider Magazine could only spend two days on this ride, but it was two glorious, toe-tapping days of great riding and good people. The organisation and support from Maschine was excellent –and we’re not using the word lightly. That standard of logistics and personnel really does deserve the praise.
Our only problem with this ride was our dickheadedness in not organising to ride all four days. We won’t make the same mistake if we have the chance to ride with these guys again.
Maschine may seem a new name in the adventure-riding world, but in fact, the Victorian-based Nick and Trudi Selleck have some big achievements and successes to their credit and have been planning and running great rides for quite a while. They were responsible for the running of the BMW Safaris and Safari Enduros for many years before branching out on their own.
Nick told us the Maschine story.
“Trudi and I used to run a web and graphic-design business,” he reminisced, “and then we got into event management with BMW Safaris. In 2015 we began running our own Maschine events, open to all brands.
“The rst one we did was actually a European tour, over in Italy and Germany last year. When we came back from that we did a trip retracing the Burke and Wills route. That was in August 2015. Since then we’ve decided we want to grow our own brand and encourage riders on bikes of all brands to attend.
“Project management is Trudi’s forte, and we’ve built up a few assets now. We have the four-wheel-drive ute and a couple of di erent trailers we use depending on the trip we’re doing. We have one a ectionately named the ‘Desert Sled’ set up speci cally for desert trips.
“We just took a group of 20 riders up through the Kimberleys. In the past we’ve managed events for up to 250 riders, and we’ve taken 15 riders on a European road tour. We have the logistics sorted to handle any sized group.
“The other thing we’ve added, aside from the riding, is we do a lot of rider training now. We have an association with KTM and we’ve been helping them with their Rally events, and with some training events with Chris Birch earlier in the year. But we’re doing our own training events too, and we’re kind of specialising a bit. We nd a lot of adventure riders really struggle with sand, so we do a sand-speci c course. We also do a rider-training course with trials bikes.
“All these training activities help get the Maschine name out there and invite more people to the bigger rides. It’s the bigger group rides we really want to focus on.”
Image: Wilkinson Photography
Reader’s ride therapy Group
In issue #15 we met Ian Goldsworthy and his Honda Dominator when he and his mates tackled the 2015 Congregation. Ian’s swapped to a BMW, and he gathered his crew for a break from work and the bike’s rst weekend away.
Starting near Newcastle, The Peel Inn at Nundle was our Saturday-night destination.
The route was planned with much banter and I baited the occasional dirt lovers with promises of deep, owing river crossings where even submarines would fear to tread and dirt tracks only passable by WW2 tanks. The promise of daring adventures proved too much for some and numbers wilted. Our Tiger rider, Whippy, went and cracked some ribs – at least that was his excuse for driving the support vehicle – and to keep him company
and his nostrils clear were Birdy and Aircon Dave. Dave earned his nickname not so much by conditioning the air. More like polluting it. Thank goodness it was mostly contained by the cabin of the Triton and ltered by Birdy and Whippy’s lungs. It didn’t bother us riders much.
The Beemer was ready for the 9:00am start at the BP at Croudace Bay, southwest of Newcastle, where we all shook hands, compared stories of woe about how much we hated leaving work behind (NOT!) and got started.
Cold case
It took only 30 minutes to lose the support vehicle.
Apparently the completely legal speed of the bikes was just too much for the Triton…although we
The author’s move to a BMW meant he had to cope with another 60kg or so and double the horsepower of his previous bike.
must have been taking the corners pretty swiftly as Mal had grounded a footpeg at a roundabout in Lorne.
The bikes came out of Lambs Valley and continued on to Singleton. The Triton (under the direction of Mr Bird) came out of Lambs Valley and turned left.
Once we got to Singleton a few phone calls located said support vehicle, which at least it gave enough time for Mal’s hands to defrost. Apparently not having heated grips means you can lose feeling in your hands. Who’d have thought?
Thankfully Mal had some inner gloves to help ward o the cold.
Roasted
O we went, up towards Rouchel and Paiges Creek Road.
It was with a mild dose of anxiety I faced the rst gravel section knowing I had another 60kg or
Words and images: Ian Goldsworthy
so of bike and double the horsepower of my previous sled. I didn’t want the same experience a mate had with his KTM on the Moredun Ponds weekend (see issue #15 – ed), so I’d studied the manual to make sure I was able to turn o the ABS. I needn’t have worried. The Germans must do things quicker than the Austrians. It only took holding down one button while turning on the ignition to switch o my ABS, where it still took 14 menus and 23 switch positions
to turno the KTM ABS.
The dirt road was lots of fun and I soon began to understand the joy of rear-wheel steering. What a hoot. We stopped for a nature break and took some photos until it was time to get moving again. We’d been talking up the food at the Linga Longa for a while and were getting very hungry.
The dirt gave way to tar and we found ourselves in the middle of
Left and above: A weekend run from Newcastle to Nundle and back.
Below: The guys ordered a brown lemonade and soaked up some sun while waiting for awesome gourmet pies.
signi cant amounts of horse-stud money. The manicured lawns, paddocks and immaculate post-and-rail fencing went on for miles.
We parked our bikes out front of the Linga Longa Pub at Gundy and stumbled in on a big birthday party, but the lovely people at the pub promised us quality tucker straight after they got the party roasts out of the way. We ordered a brown lemonade and soaked up some sun while
we waited for our awesome gourmet pies.
Tough stuff
With full bellies we mounted up, and as we headed toward Nundle we had two options: one was the more direct gravel through Timor over the Crawney Pass; the other was a more adventurous route via the Barry Station and 21 rocky creek crossings. I was advised that heavy, comfortable, low-slung adventure bikes may not be suitable for the water crossings, so we headed along the road to Timor. The condition of the road was as we’d remembered – open, smooth gravel with a few cows that allowed some spritely forward progress.
Crawney Pass came into view and, as it was early afternoon, the expectation of below-zero conditions at the higher altitude didn’t eventuate. We bunched up again as we went down the other side.
Feelings of déjà vu occurred coming down into the valley toward Nundle with Barno on my backside doing his best to check my rear numberplate screws were
Top left: Either the support vehicle or one of the riders always seemed to be missing.
Left: There was some amusement and snickering about the name of the location, but there was very little ‘hanging’ going on. It was cold alright!
tight. It was a brave display in fact, as he was still recovering from an injury. He had torn ligaments and was in considerable pain (they breed them tough at Medowie, NSW).
Into Nundle we hustled and parked up outside the Peel Inn, our digs for the night.
A fall
We bolted straight into the pub to sort out the rooms, and as we were getting our bearings noticed a gap in our group.
“Where’s Mal and Finny?” we wondered out loud.
Apparently Finny went to move his KTM to a more suitable spot when he hooked up the hapless ’Strom being moved at the same time by Mal. The two sets of panniers tangled and everything turned to porridge. The ’Strom copped a broken handguard and a couple of scratches and the KTM a torn pannier and some scu s. It was our rst mishap for the trip.
Once the rooms were sorted we ferried the bikes to the servo for a ll up and parked up behind the pub.
Another fall
The Katoom must’ve been tired after the long trip. When we came out in the morning it’d had another lay down. This time it decked on the concrete oor of the carport and broke a mirror. Owner Finny
The Peel Inn was a cracking place to stay and very popular.
There was promise of more dirt early in the day and we weren’t disappointed.
looked even more less-than-impressed than he had at the incident the night before.
The Peel Inn was a cracking place to stay and very popular. Another group of adventure riders was holed up across the road at the Gold Mine Motel and a Christian bikers’ group from Inverell was there as well, though all of these guys were on Harleys or cruisers. It made for a busy bar and restaurant that night.
There are comments shared that can be taken out of context when you don’t quite hear the whole story. Mal was singing the praises of his Skins compression apparel and how warm it kept him on the chilly ride. It got confusing when he said, “They were so good, I had to wring them out when I got o .”
We checked the footy score and I headed for the room and an early night. I found out the next morning the boys hadn’t been too far behind me, except for Birdy who was being chatted up by one of the local ladies. She was de nitely only interested in his opinions on just about everything except for whether he would be allowed to come up and hunt on her property. That earned him an immediate reprieve from any more interrogation.
Next morning we all surfaced between 7:00am and 8:00am and headed down to the restaurant for a hot brekky – all part of the princely $55 fee for the accommodation. It was still cold.
Texas tea
We burned lots of daylight over a leisurely breakfast and I wanted to be at Gloucester
for lunch and home by about 4:00pm, so we had to put on some pace.
There was a promise of more dirt early in the day and we weren’t disappointed. However, before we got that far we completed about four kilometres of tarmac twisties. I’d stopped to turn o the ABS when Barno pulled up alongside and complained about smelling oil. We couldn’t see anything obvious but there was a de nite oil splatter mark on his left boot and on the side of the Suzuki’s motor.
A quick glance at the oil-level sight glass showed the ’Strom was a tad low on the good stu , so into the Triton we jumped and back to Nundle for liquid gold we went.
Slipway
Since nding my dirt legs on the big Beemer I was as keen as mustard for the next section of the ride. I have a particular fondness for the gravel way of travelling on a bike. With a urry of wheelspin I was o , creating a small dust storm. Oblivious to my surroundings, I quickly assumed the attack position, standing up, knees slightly bent, elbows out, soft on the hands and found myself after about 15 minutes doing speeds which were kind of silly. I decided slow down, knowing the area normally had lots of wombats and ’roos. Hitting one of those furries at speed meant a hospital stay, a cranky boss and a u
The V-Strom was a tad low on the good stuff.
ReadeR’s RIde
less-than-impressed missus. On top of all that I have an allergy to pain and su ering. That dirt section was the highlight of the ride for me. The new Mitas E07 tires were the duck’s nuts. I loved them on the Honda and they were just as good on the Beemer.
We reassembled at the end of the dirt at Topdale Road and proceeded down Thunderbolts Way. By the time we caught the support vehicle we’d lost Finny and the KTM. Again. He’d misheard the comment about not stopping at Nowendoc as we’d originally planned and was 20 minutes behind at Nowendoc shops buying batteries for his GPS and wondering where we were.
The 20-minute delay came in handy as the oil stain on Barno’s left foot now looked like he’d been standing in a tub of crude. The whole left fork leg was covered in oil. The right side was starting to let go too.
We quickly cleaned up the fork oil with Whippy’s rag and hoped the front brakes hadn’t copped too much oil during the spill.
Playing chicken
Reunited, we headed down the steep, twisty goodness of tarmac toward Gloucester, and by the time we hit Barrington I was getting pretty bored staring at the back of the Triton so I started shifting around to get blood ow to my legs. Those boxer cylinders on the Beemer make great footrests, even though I felt like I had my legs in stirrups and was about to give birth.
By the time we pulled up at the Gloucester Roundabout Inn we were famished and keen for another helping of country goodness. Once parked up – Finny needed a bit of help to stabilise the Katoom mothership while dismounting. He didn’t want to go three from three – it was time to relax and even shed a few of our layers. The day had started out very brisk at Nundle, but in Gloucester it would’ve been at least in the low- to mid-20s.
After a beautiful chicken schnitty we were ready for the nal leg.
Needs must
While the support crew headed straight home down Bucketts Way, we’d planned a little diversion down Wauk Ivory Road to Bulahdelah before heading home. But Barno’s long-su ering ’Strom decided it wasn’t enough just to mark it’s territory with fork oil everywhere it went. It decided it wouldn’t start.
Whippy had the seat o and quickly diagnosed the starter solenoid was kaput. A quick work-around was using a spare clutch lever to bridge the solenoid contacts and up she red. With the seat back on I made the executive decision to head straight home via Bucketts Way as well. The last thing we needed was a stranded ’Strom in the middle of nowhere between Gloucester and Bulahdelah, quite possibly with Barno having to ride bitch on the way home on the pillion seat. No, we couldn’t have that.
The rest of the ride home was uneventful and smooth (except for Barno, whose front end did its impersonation of a pogo stick). The anticipation and excitement of these weekend trips on the bike are fantastic, but seem so eeting once they’re over.
Maybe we’ll get to do it again sometime soon – though we may need to lavish some much-needed TLC on Barno’s ’Strom.
Many thanks to some of the absolute best people I know. All precious friends.
The starter solenoid on the ’Strom was kaput, but using a spare clutch lever to bridge the solenoid contacts 昀椀red ’er up.
Time to shed some layers.
Lubing cables
Cables are fast disappearing from modern bikes, but there are still plenty around and most riders ignore them until they break or cause a problem. This is partly because modern Te on-coated cables have an amazing lifespan and need very little maintenance.
But there’s still a substantial gain
1. Disconnect the cable from both ends. If there are protective rubber boots, pull them back so you can see the end of the cable outer. If it’s a carby, remove the cable/s from the throttle slide. We’re doing a clutch so we’ve disconnected the levers at both ends.
in performance and durability available from steel-wound cables if they’re lubed regularly, and there’s still plenty of steel-wound cables in use. You’ll be amazed at how much lighter a throttle or clutch will feel if it’s given a good dose of lube, especially if it’s been allowed to gunk up.
Just to cover our bases, check your owners’ manual for advice on
whether or not the cables on your bike need lubing.
We see plenty of people using WD40 for lubing cables and it isn’t ideal for the purpose. We like to purge any crud with WD40, then lube the cable with a purposespeci c cable lubricant. You can get one of those from the bike shop, too.
Here’s how it’s done…
2. Attach a cable-lubing tool. These are available just about everywhere. We’re using a Bikeservice Cable Wire Lubrication Tool from motoplace.com.au. Loosen the grub screws and slip the cable end into the tool. The cable will only 昀椀t properly one way. The wide end of the tool should seal around the cable outer while the cable inner should protrude, and be clamped until it seals, by the other end. Tighten up those grub screws.
4. Gently, using very short bursts, squirt the lubricant into the tool. Continue until you see the lubricant drooling out the other end of the cable (that’s why you disconnected both ends).
5. Remove the tool, work that cable back and forth in the inner a few times, then reconnect the cable and adjust to manufacturer spec.
3. Insert the 昀氀exible nozzle of your aerosol-can lube into the open gland on the tool. There should only be one place that nozzle can go.
6. Go riding.
Ride right
Regardless of style or bike, the di erence between a comfortable ride that feels great and an out-of-control ride that’s hard to handle can be as simple as a few minor set-up tweaks. Alex Kelly starts from the beginning with a few pointers that can make a huge di erence to how you and your bike feel.
Author Alex Kelly shares some good, basic knowledge that can make a big difference to your comfort and control.
Words: Alex Kelly
Let’s start from the front and talk about forks and handlebars. Depending on the bike you have this can be a cheap and easy x or a huge e ort that seems almost not worth it.
Let me assure you it’s always worth it.
’Bars are a bit of a personal thing. Being tall and with long, go-go-Gadget arms I much prefer a tall ’bar with a high swing. I’ve always run risers – normally adaptors that allow the tting of ‘fat’ 25mm (one inch) ’bars while providing a 20mm rise. But this isn’t a perfect science and, believe it or not, it’s all relative to your footpeg position and height. The best advice I could give for handlebars is ‘try a few’. Fat ’bars are always better than a 22.5mm (7/8 inch) ’bar, mainly because when you drop your bike
there’s less chance of the ’bar bending. With your Barkbusters attached the force is mostly transferred though to the steering stem.
Lastly, you need to consider whether you’re a stand-up or sit-down style rider.
Because I come from a trials background and move around a lot on the bike, normally over the front axle, I like having my ’bars rolled a little forward and the levers pointing a little down from horizontal. However, if you’re from a motocross or enduro/trail background, you may prefer your ’bars back a little and levers a bit higher. I can’t stress enough how important it is to play with your cockpit set up. It truly can be the di erence between an awesome ride and an average one, and having control or not having control.
It doesn’t take long to change ’bar or lever angles, and it can make such a big di erence. You’re mad if you don’t experiment with it.
The black art
Everyone thinks suspension is a taboo topic that only a handful of people in the country know about. With today’s technology and advice, having a good set up for any rider is easy and it makes a huge di erence.
The most important thing is to set the suspension for the ridden weight. In this case, by ‘ridden’ I mean rider, gear, water, panniers and everything inside – the total load the bike will be carrying when it’s ridden. If you set up your bike using the rider’s weight only it’s ne – if you travel without any luggage, tools or spare fuel.
u
Having a good suspension set up for any rider is easy and it makes a huge difference. Check the manual and get the basic setting right before heading off to a tuner.
Handlebar settings and heights are very personal. Some people will tolerate more weight on their ’bars than others, and height and fore-and-aft positioning has a big in昀氀uence on rider input.
Ride Right
I’m fairly certain that’s not the case with most adventure riders.
Most bikes o er adjustable preload on the springs, and preload is the adjustment adventure riders should concern themselves with most.
Add up the weight of all the extras, as well as yourself, then check that load with the advice in your owners’ manual to see if you need springs. Better still, grab a mate and check your ride height and static sag and see if the measurements fall within the manufacturer’s spec for the shock. If they do it’ll make a huge di erence. If they can’t be made to meet the criteria in the manual, no amount of valving or adjustment will ever let those suspension components, front or rear, perform at their best.
With the correct spring weights some ’bikes may need a little extra hydraulic help with aftermarket valving to o er a plusher ride, less dive, and allow the springs to do more. Without the correct springs though, the rest of it is wasting time and money.
Tank trap
Moving to fuel tanks and seats, choices very much depend on your riding.
Personally, I ride long-distance and I stand on the ’pegs for probably 80 per cent of the time, so the tank is more important to me than the seat. However, if you’re touring and want that Quilton-loves-your-bum soft
feeling, a good seat could make the ride. Seats are again a very personal option. Because I stand up most of the time I have a standard seat and don’t mind it, even with my bony bum. But there are many di erent aftermarket options. The best thought I can o er is, the wider the seat is between your knees, the less movement will be allowed on the ’bike and the worse the ’bike will handle. The wider at the bum, the better for comfort.
There’s a bit of a craze on big fuel tanks. If your bike will do 370km per tank nice and easy, there’s not really much need for a bigger tank in Australia. Unless you’re really hitting the remote areas, that sort of range will cover you most of the time.
If you’re chasing a big tank then Aussie-owned and run Safari Tanks are good, as is Acerbis product. If you only need an extended fuel range on rare occasions, maybe check out options like Liquid Containment fuel bladders or Rotopax containers.
Down low
Not a lot of people play with footpegs, boots and foot controls. Everyone seems to think the standard ’bike is how things should stay. That’s not the case.
The general rule again relates to a rider’s height and riding ability.
Look at a trials bike and you’ll see the
Not a lot of people play with footpegs, boots and foot controls, but there are big gains to be made there.
footpegs are low and very far back.
This is because while a trials rider is hanging o the handlebars they also want the full weight of their body as far back over the rear axle as possible, making it easy to lift the front. The same can be said about dirt bikes and adventure riding. Regardless of height or ability, the bike feels better with a lower centre of gravity. How low you go will depend on the ’bike and rider’s height. A rule of thumb is to try and get your footpegs as low as, and as far back, as the swingarm pivot point. This will allow you to move your weight and your body around while still remaining in control.
A classic example of this would be the DR650. As soon as you lower those ’pegs
If you’re chasing a big tank, Aussieowned and run Safari Tanks are the cat’s whiskers. Acerbis makes good product, too.
with adaptor plates or new mounts it completely changes the way the bike feels.
If you’re a shorter rider you’re better o changing rearsuspension linkage ratios rather than raising footpegs. Keep those feet low and steady.
Sole food
With footpeg choice and boots, I think the bigger the better.
Because I’m a stand-up rider, the larger the surface area that I distribute my weight over the better, and the less sore my feet are at the end of the day. I don’t want to stand on chopsticks all day.
The same goes for boots. I’ve had all sorts and it all depends on what you want. My favourite boots are my Forma Adventures. If you’re a long-distance rider, the lighter those boots are, the more comfortable you’ll be. If you’re an extreme trail rider, protect those ankles and go for a pair of motocross boots, but you’ll compromise comfort on long rides. Also, budget is a big thing, but the more you pay, the better product you will get. That’s as true with boots as anything else.
Don’t be shy
If you’re a long-distance rider, the lighter boots are, the better. If you’re an extreme trail rider, protect those ankles and go for a pair of motocross boots.
At the end of the day it’s your bike and you’ll do with it what you please. However, if you spend a little time changing it and playing with set up, you could quickly open a new door to comfort and handling you never knew existed.
If you try one thing on your bike that makes it better, then this article was worth writing. But trust me when I say, a few little changes can make a huge di erence.
The wider the seat is at the bum, the better for comfort. The narrower between the knees, the better for control.
Ténéré
not so tragic
Want your Ténéré to be a good-lookin’, hard-workin’ , go-anywhere adventure ride? The Yamaha Motor Australia folks can show you how it’s done.
e’re not exactly clear why Yamaha’s Peter Payne gets to build bikes for his employer.
We think it’s because Peter has a rare talent for tuning and sorting bikes, and because Yamaha wants to make the information available to its customers. It’s an excellent service for Yamaha owners, and one we’re happy to help our readers make the most of.
We’ve covered a couple of Peter Payne’s Super Ténéré builds in previous issues, and the magic of Peter’s approach centres around leaving alone the good aspects of the stock bikes. The changes he makes are often minimal, all are available to anyone who walks into their local dealer and knows what to ask for, and they all o er some very real improvements in either comfort, performance or both.
This issue Adventure Rider
Magazine was invited to have a close look at a Payne-built XT660Z Ténéré. Under the watchful eye of Sean ‘Geez’ Goldhawk, who’s been doing some time on the bike, we gave the XTZ a good scrute.
The list
The bike is a tantalising study. The stocker is strong and has a great motor, so it’s o to a ying start. None of the changes and additions are startling or exotic – although the twin Akros must go very close –but the result is some big improvements just where they can do the most good. Here’s the list:
R Teknik front and rear o -road suspension $990 R Akrapović dual exhaust system $1141.94
R B&B engine protector $245
R SW Motech engine-frame
protection system $279
R SW Motech centrestand $279
R Seat Concepts seat $274.95
R Pivot Pegz $239
R Dunlop 606 Tyres and heavy-duty tubes $278.80
R Barkbusters VSB ’bars $79.95
R ’Bar risers and adapter clamps to suit VSB ’bars $55
R Barkbusters with wind de ectors $165.95
R Skaggs billet rack $210
R Scott grips $25
R Heat Demon grip warmers $59.95
R Brake Snake $8.95
You can do it
As the list clearly shows, these are all othe-shelf items anyone can buy. Yamaha customers could conceivably ask their dealer to supply a bike with these changes and this equipment already in place, or they could pick and choose from the list an item or two at a time.
The luggage and GPS didn’t appear on the list because they’re very personal items. Some riders won’t want either, some will want the whole lot. The tankbag is a Giant Loop and the tailpacks are AltRider and Wolfman. The GPS is a Garmin Zumo. Peter P likes to travel very light, and this is his rig for even multi-day rides.
Whichever way it’s done, the Yamaha owner ends up the winner.
In fact Yamaha Genuine Parts are
...So good we build our bikes with them!
Only Yamaha can manufacture their replacement parts to the exact standards needed to guarantee reliability, performance and correct 昀椀t every time. We even offer some of the consumable parts in handy prepackaged kits, such as Fork Seal Kits, Bearing Kits, Clutch Kits, Plastic Kits and Gasket Kits.
Below: These front blinkers are cool. The bottom half lights up for daylight visibility.
Left: Barkbusters VSB ’bars are held in risers with adapter clamps to suit.
Right: SW Motech crash bars. Excellent!
Left: AdventureMoto also supplied the Seat Concepts seat which is available in a couple of different heights.
Above: A Skaggs billet rack, available from AdventureMoto, gives more square centimetres of storage and is a tough bit of gear.
Main: The bike doesn’t look much different, but the changes make a noticeable impact.
The doohickey
What exactly is‘the doohickey’and why are so many Kawasaki riders worried about it?
KLR owners have nightmares and anxiety attacks about sizable chunks of metal exploding and rattling around the bottom-ends of their engines, destroying their otherwise seemingly bulletproof and unbreakable adventure mounts.
Is the doohickey truly a nightmare? Or should someone tell KLR owners they’re dreaming? What the fudge is a doohickey anyway?
Tech check
The doohickey is actually a pair of parts – the balancer idle lever and spring – in the motor of a KLR650. The two components combine to, as the correct name implies, keep the correct tension on
the balancer chain. The balancer itself rotates to help cancel out vibration caused by the engine components’ operation, and the chain keeps it turning at the frequency required as the engine’s RPM varies. The tension on the chain is important to its operation.
In the KLR the doohickey is a short, coil spring and an odd-shaped plate with an arcshaped slot.
What’s the problem?
Ah. That’s the burning question. Is there a problem at all?
Here’s some history.
From 1987 to 2007 the KLR650 ran a lever – the odd-shaped plate – which was actually made
Above main: Nick Dole at Teknik Motorsport had a good, long look at the balancer idle lever and spring on the Shop Bike.
Above insert: The doohickey is a 昀氀at, slotted piece of metal with an arc on one edge and a spring behind it. This is an aftermarket doohickey supplied with two different extension springs. The hot poop among KLR owners now is to ditch the extension spring completely and go with a torsion spring –available, of course, with a ‘correct-size’ drill bit, from the same American aftermarket suppliers.
from two pieces welded together. According to legend, these levers had a history of breaking and the bits rattled around inside the engine and caused damage ranging from a funny noise to World War Three.
Above: Access to the doohickey requires some specialised tools. It’s not really a job for enthusiastic amateurs, although plenty of KLR owners take pride in having replaced the parts themselves.
One of the updates to the bike in 2008 was to replace the welded lever with a lever machined from a single piece of steel, but still the doohickey remains the boogeyman to KLR owners, fuelled in no small way by American companies o ering aftermarket doohickies.
The web forums are full of horror stories of ‘near’ doohickey failures and close calls. There are stories of actual failures in older generation KLRs, but the overwhelming majority of replacements seem to be done as a preventative measure, not a repair.
Numbers
It’s di cult to know if there really is a problem. KLR owners love doing these kinds of inexpensive mods to their bikes, and replacing the doohickey seems to be a badge of honour. Owners look wise as they nod knowledgeably and mutter, “Hell, yes. Did mine before I had a problem.”
We spoke to Murray Sale, Marketing Assistant – Special Projects at Kawasaki Motors Australia, and he did some research for us. At the time we asked, over 3400 new KLRs had been sold in Australia since the 2008 upgrade, and in that time, seven doohickey parts had been supplied through Kawasaki dealers.
We were unable to nd anyone with a 2008 model or later who’d had a doohickey failure. We found gazillions of owners who’d changed the parts ‘just in case’, but no-one who’d had a failure.
Expert
When it comes to hard-working bikes, Adventure Rider Magazine’s shop bike – now owned by ad manager Mitch – gets the Gold Harness award. It snorted halfway across Australia during ADVX in 2015, and since then Mitch has given it a fair old workout.
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Now with 40,000km on the odo, we gured if there was likely to be a KLR in line for a doohickey failure, it’d be this one. We rolled the bike out to Nick Dole at Teknik Motorsport and asked him to give us an expert opinion on the state of the balancer idle lever and spring (you don’t use terms like ‘doohickey’ around Nick). Typically, Nick pulled the cover and ywheel o , removed the doohickey, ddled with everything and poked, prodded and measured. In his opinion the design of the system wasn’t particularly good, but it worked. He was concerned about owners not realising there was an adjustment that needed to be checked at regular intervals. On the Shop Bike, that adjustment not being done had
caused some wear on the casing behind the lever.
It was nothing terminal, so Nick reassembled everything, adjusted the lever to its correct position, and sent us on our way…sort of. He found and repaired a whole batch of other things that were nothing to do with the doohickey that he simply couldn’t ignore.
He’s a top bloke!
Case closed
So there it is.
We doubt anything we say will make any di erence, but the ‘problem’ with Gen 2 KLR doohickies is a myth in our opinion. Having seen the parts in a hard-working engine, we’d probably replace the spring if we had
occasion to remove the ywheel. It doesn’t seem to keep much tension on the lever, but we wouldn’t rate it as important as regular oil changes and air- lter maintenance. By all means send your money overseas and buy the aftermarket parts if it makes you feel better, but we don’t believe it’s a necessity if the tension is checked and adjusted as part of regular servicing.
That opinion is for KLRs that have been serviced and maintained correctly from new. If a bike hasn’t been properly looked after, all bets are o , and we bet the doohickey isn’t the most likely cause of a problem anyway.
Don’t get it
We’re guessing we’re ghting a losing battle getting KLR owners to concentrate more on maintenance and less on webforum marketing, but we were keen to try and apply some clarity to a situation largely illuminated by mirrors and clouded in smoke. KLR owners just love to prattle on about the doohickie, it’s as simple as that. Nigel Harvey from Triumph said it best. As ad manager Mitch and editor TF were in deep discussion about their KLRs at the northern Congregation, Nigel rolled his eyes and groaned, “You KLR owners and your doowackies!” Gold.
Above left: The doohickey in place. There’s no need to remove any exterior casings or parts to do the correct adjustment at servicing. Just remove a rubber plug, half-turn a bolt, tighten it back up, and off you go.
Owners don’t seem to do it, though.
Below: Ad manager Mitch makes the most of the KLR. He rides it hard and often, and doesn’t make any concessions to the dualsport design of the bike. He’ll jump or wheelie over just about anything he can 昀椀nd.
Image: Katrina Ratcliff
While Nick at Teknik had the Shop Bike on the hoist we slipped on a pair of new IMS Adventure 1 ’pegs.
These things a freaking huge.
According to importers, Ficeda Accessories, ‘The large overall length and width enhances comfort and the bene ts are felt navigating dirt roads and on long stretches of open roads. The platform spreads the boot contact patch and lessens stress on the feet, legs and hips.’
They’re made from cast stainless steel, have a powder-coated and polished nish and carry a lifetime warranty.
They certainly look the goods. Mitch is going to give them a hammering, so they’d better be tough.
F800GS BMW
The Beemer takes the adventure test and passes with ying colours.
The mud dribbled in over the top of my boots as I watched the BMW F800GS continue to sink into the foul-smelling ooze.
I was exhausted. After 20 minutes or so of attempting to lift, drag and secure the bike, I was no better o . In fact, it was beginning to dawn on me that I was in a x.
With an obscene apping, farting noise, the stinking sludge-
hole began to inexorably consume more of the bike. The slime was above the bashplate and footpegs and the bike was heading for some deep, deep, subterranean resting place.
I was too rooted to pull my own legs out of the slop, let alone a loaded 800.
I was alone and I was in big trouble.
A good start
Like so many adventures, this one had started with an overwhelming feeling of optimism and pending freedom.
BMW Motorrad had o ered a 2016 F800GS for the GS Safari Enduro, and I thought I’d died and gone to adventure-riding heaven. The event was one of my favourites, so was the destination – The Flinders – and the 800 was my BMW of choice.
I’d listened while other riders had explained to me how I
was wrong, and that the 1200 was obviously my favourite BMW, even though I hadn’t realised it yet, but I politely disregarded their advice. For me, and the riding I enjoy, the 800 is the one. Speci cally, I like the F800GSA with it’s larger fuel capacity and other extras, but I’d been surprised at the new GS. It felt very slim and agile, and it could really carve up on the road. Unlike a lot of adventure riders, I enjoy a good bitumen strop, so that combined with the bike’s undeniable agility had me wondering whether my preference for the GSA might not be up for review.
It was with a huge sense of joyful anticipation I strapped the luggage on the bike in Adelaide and hit the road, heading for Streaky Bay, about seven hours or so to the northwest.
Scare tactics
Trundling along the A1 highway from Adelaide to my planned
Words and images: TF
overnighter at Port Pirie should’ve been a holiday. No phone. No email. No computer.
Just the South Australian countryside, the bike and me.
I don’t mind a little rain. That’s part of riding, and I was well set up to deal with it. My luggage and my riding gear were all the type of rst-class equipment only bike journalists and Dakar competitors can hope for.
But as I left the city the rain became a little heavier than was comfortable and the temperature plummeted. That wasn’t so bad, but once I left the shelter of the city the wind was fairly frigging serious. And it got seriouser.
Travelling across the open plains near Port Arthur and
Top left: The ground looked 昀椀rm…until you tried to ride or walk on it.
Above: All smiles at the start of the GS Safari Enduro in Streaky Bay
Below: Getting in front of the 昀椀eld was no problem for the 800, especially on the long, straight, corrugated outback roads.
through to Snowtown it was di cult to stay on the road. Twice the bike was blown across into the right-hand lane and I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to stop it heading o the right-hand shoulder. In this case, the right-hand lane was oncoming tra c, so that was a bit hairy. I was lucky the long, dead-straight road was empty both times.
Visibility was poor as the rain continued to dump down, so any time I caught a semi or B-double I judged it best to twist the throttle and fang on past. Battling the turbulence from the truck and the windblast as I emerged in front of the juggernauts had me wishing I’d worn brown undies.
The nal straw came with a moderately spectacular aquaplane. The bike began to slide, the wind grabbed it, and o it went, sideways and in a very big hurry. My sphincter oscillated at an improbable frequency as I held on, wondering where the hell it was all going to end up. u
BMW F800gs
That was enough for me.
I reduced speed, let the trucks go at whatever pace they thought appropriate, and tippy-wheeled into Port Pirie and a return to a sensible world in a warm, secure motel.
Thick on the ground
The remainder of the run to Streaky Bay was chilly but uneventful. I recovered my composure and once again settled in to enjoy what the bike had to o er – which was plenty. The straight roads meant it couldn’t show the best of its handling, but for a supremely comfortable, mid-weight sight-seer it’s hard to beat.
As Streaky Bay itself approached the BMWs became thick on the ground and I caught up with some familiar faces. The glow of the GS Safari Enduro began and my eager anticipation mounted.
I had plenty of opportunities to tag up with other groups, but while it’s not easy for people to understand, I had a week or so of work in front of me where I’d have to push the bike and myself to get to photo locations, interviews and ride to hotspots as they happened, so I was very content at my own pace and with my own company before all that started. I rolled into the incredibly beautiful Streaky Bay in the late afternoon. It was cold but sunny, and as the 800 purred its way through town it was
one of those times where life seemed about as good as it could possibly be.
Dodging and weaving
The Safari kicked o and I had numerous occasions to chuckle to myself as the 800 continually showed its colours. It was perfect for the terrain. On the big, longdistance stretches it could sit on ridiculous
speeds in total comfort. In the slippery, slimy, wet clay and sand of the rst day it was slim and light and smoothed its way through the sometimes di cult going. In the rocks around Arkaroola and Rawnsley Park it was a dancer, and I found myself chuckling as I watched the bigger bikes tackle obstacles the 800 had cleared without hesitation. I was even sort of looking forward to having to pick the bike up next to someone struggling to lift a 1200, but in a rare turn of events, the 800 didn’t hit the deck once during the ride.
There were only a few things that caused a minor tickle of conscience.
The rst was I didn’t once check the airlter, let alone clean it. I didn’t do the oil, either. Miles Davis of BMW just kept smiling and saying, “The bike will be ne. It’s made for these service intervals.” It turned out he was right.
The second was the fuel range. I wasn’t caught with an empty tank during the event, but a lot of that was because I did my best to manage fuel consumption. When we were warned of the long sections I kept the speed down and stayed smooth. I seethed with envy as those on GSAs with the extra
Main: Arkaroola’s mountain passes were perfect for the 800. It was a pleasure to ride no matter how challenging things became.
Above: The result of some overenthusiasm in the hard-edged rocks around Arkaroola.
Right: Two classic, hard-working machines.
fuel capacity scorched past. And, nally, I put several dings in the front rim.
There’s no real excuse for the last one. I was having a good time, the trails were really rocky and rough in places, and I was in a hurry to stay in front of the eld.
If the other BMW riders had truly been as supportive as they seemed, a few of them would’ve dinged their rims too, just to make me feel better. They didn’t, but.
When one adventure nishes…
Soon enough I found myself in Broken Hill. The Safari Enduro was nished and the job was done. All that was left was to get home, about 2000km to the east.
And this is where things became a bit how’s-your-father. Because I was in a hurry to be
home after nine days away, I bolted down the Barrier Highway to Wilcannia. The run from Bourke to home is a well-worn track for me and could be all but dismissed. That meant the only section left to chance was Wilcannia to Bourke. I’d studied the map and I’d spoken to a few people, so I thought it seemed a reasonable run to attempt alone. It’s only about 320km total, and there was fuel at Tilpa (I phoned and checked).
The only decision I had to make was which road to take from Wilcannia. There were two, roughly parallel, running on the eastern and western sides of the Darling River. In fact, the two roads crossed over each other, or very nearly, a few times, so I didn’t expect it would make much di erence which one I took. u
www.southerncrossmotorbiketours.com.au
Above: Scenes like this make you realise how lucky you are to be on rides like the Safari Enduro.
Below: The long, 昀氀at plains of South Australia’s ironore country meant the BMW could let loose. The motor is one smooth, torquey little grunt factory.
Still, while I was fuelling the bike in Wilcannia I saw a local hunter, complete with 4WD, dogs in cages and meathooks hanging on rails. He was drinking an iced co ee, believe it or not.
‘Who would know the country better than this guy!’ I thought. ‘Talk about lucky!’
Local knowledge
The youngish hunter answered my query with, “You want the turn down the road a bit. Head that way until you see a sign says ‘Paroo National Park’. It’s a bit rough, but you’ll be right on the bike. That’s the road you want.”
Full of con dence thanks to my local insight, I snicked the mighty Beemer into gear and headed in the direction
nominated. It was a beautiful, warm sunny day, the bike was awesome, and I once again had that feeling life was far better than I deserved it to be.
The turno was exactly where it should’ve been, and glad to be nally able to turn the ’bars after the impossibly straight 200km or so of the Barrier Highway, I cracked open the throttle and scooted onto one of the roughest, shittiest, bike-breakingest tracks I’d ridden in a long time.
‘What was that bloke back at the servo thinking?’ I wondered as I crashed and hammered along the rutted rock and through shitful mud wallows.
The 800, to its credit, coped well. It was tough going that demanded good decisions from the rider, a heap of help from suspension and smooth power delivery from the bike.
As I’d swept around the corner onto the track I’d thought I’d glimpsed a ‘road closed’ sign. If I’d been sure, I would never have continued, but I was having a bit of a rush at the thought of hitting the dirt and wasn’t really paying attention.
Plus, that local fella wouldn’t have sent me up there if it was closed, would he?
Of course not.
So I punted on.
Sunk
It was around 55km along this crappy, rock-strewn, mud-gutted road that I was confronted with a sizable puddle. The body of water was just a little wider than the shoulders of the road, and it was perhaps 40m long.
I pulled up and contemplated the situation.
Everything about the puddle screamed ‘deathtrap to the unwary!’ I had no way of knowing the depth, the state of the bottom, or what obstacles may have been under the surface.
The alternatives were to wade in and nd out those things, turn around and head back, or ride around the edge.
I could smell the putridness from where I sat on the bike, so I wasn’t keen to wade in if I didn’t have to. Who knew how many di erent strains of ebola were festering away in there?
It was 55km back to Wilcannia along that poxy track, and I wasn’t keen to do that, either.
Around the edge it was then, I decided. I aimed the 800 at the side of the road, rolled on a little throttle and eased out the clutch.
Before I’d even had time to think, ‘Holy crap!’ the bike had sunk in the mud and was jammed.
This was no cause for alarm. I’ve been bogged plenty of times. It means some unpleasant heaving and hauling, but it’s not a serious situation. And I was only about two metres from the road. How tough could it be?
Then I noticed the bike’s sump guard had reached the mud, but it was still sinking. I sprung into action and leapt o the bike, only to nd I immediately sunk in the slop up to the knees, and it didn’t seem my rate of sinking was slowing either.
I heaved the bike onto its side to try and stop it disappearing completely and set about getting myself out of trouble. This took a little while, but I nally found myself on hard ground and was able to take stock.
I have to say, I was starting to get a little alarmed.
Brains over brawn
The next hour or so was covered in the opening of the story. I tried with all I had to drag the bike clear but couldn’t. Even on its side it’d sunk far enough in the mud to where I couldn’t move it any direction. I could pick it up, but both the bike and I just plunged so far into the gloop that I ended up worse each time I did it. I’d taken a little heart-attack stop and nally remembered to take a pic or two, and now my camera bag and equipment were all slathered with stinking mud as well.
I, of course, looked like some kind of low-budget, horror-movie monster with mud covering me up to about the chest. I accepted I wasn’t going to be able to extract the bike by main force. It was time to assess the situation: I was on what was possibly a closed road, so it was unlikely waiting would bring any help; I was 55km from a town if I decided to hike out for assistance; if the road was closed, getting help was going to initiate a very expensive and embarrassing interview with the authorities; and nally, I was shagged. I had nothing left even if I came up with a plan.
Above: A muddy souvenir of an uncomfortable situation.
Right: A sel昀椀e at Tilpa. PLB and SPOT ready, but not needed. Below: You can even dry your laundry on it!
Was it time to reach for the SPOT or PLB?
That last thought red a mental rocket at my doughy, not-too-sharp cerebral cortex. For crying out loud. I was about two metres from riding away. Surely I could come up with something?
Free
Obviously I did come up with something, because here I am telling the story. There were some small rocks scattered around, so I piled a few right underneath the rear wheel. They began sinking immediately, so I quickly stood the bike up, started it, eased the clutch out and, to my inexpressible joy, it rolled forward! It only rolled about 15cm before it was o the rocks and into the mud again, and I was once again stuck up to my thighs in
the crud, but the small success showed me there was a way out.
For the next hour or I so I repeated the process, 30cm or so at a time, rocks becoming more and more scarce and further and further away until, at last, with one nal slip of the clutch the bike drove forward and dragged me with it.
I sobbed with relief, inhaling a lungful of noxious swamp fumes, but I didn’t care. I was clear. All I had to do was get the bike back on to the hard-packed dirt road and I was out of trouble.
Never learn
With the BMW back on the track I reloaded the luggage, scraped o as much mud as I could, then faced the next question: did I continue on or go back?
Are you frigging insane?
Of course I went back.
Across 11 days, it was a single incident of about two-and-half hours that proved the challenge. That’s adventure riding.
After fuelling up again at Wilcannia I set o on the western road to nd it was glorious. The ’roos and emus were thick on the ground, and some of the road was sandy twin-track, but the riding was
It’s a great bike, and it gave me at least one adventure I’ll never forget.
When I went to return the 800 BMW Motorrad said, “Why don’t you hang onto it for a while?”
Believe me, it’s not like I wanted to give the bike back in the rst place. Where next, then?
I’ll ask a few locals and see if I can get some ideas.
excellent. Tilpa, Bourke and the well-known run through Narrabri and over Mount Kaputar came and went, the BMW seeming to love every kilometre.
Above: Still smiling at Broken hill after 2000km of sensational riding on the F800GS.
Kashmir: mystic adventure
Last issue we left Ian Bowden and his group in Leh after a big day riding over Himalayan passes in conditions that varied from zero degrees and snowing to 30 degrees in the blazing sun. The adventure continues…
Words and images: Ian Bowden
Below the Thikse monastery in Leh. It clings to the side of a hill.
On the tenth of 21 fantastic days touring Northern India and mystic Kashmir, we were in Leh for what the guide described as ‘a Leh-day’ (pun intended). We enjoyed a bit of a lie-in and relaxed for the morning. That relaxation wasn’t to last.
Race to the sky
After lunch we mounted the trusty En elds and rode the short distance to begin the climb on the mighty Khardung La, the highest road in the world. We had to travel in two groups because a local bike-hire
service was trying to stop tour operators using out-of-State bikes on the road, forcing them to hire local bikes. In a cunning back-up plan our guide had signed the bikes over to us. Ha, ha! We had an even more cunning plan of keeping them.
After passing the control gate we regrouped a few
kilometres up the hill. The whole area was actually a military zone and special permission had to be obtained from the authorities because it’s fairly close to the sensitive border with China, speci cally, Tibet.
Our guide, Mike, said, “See you at the top.”
The pace was on after Craig got the jump on us past a working bulldozer and we were in hot pursuit on our 25horsepower rockets.
As you can imagine, 25hp at altitude wasn’t much, so there was no backing o as we raced to the sky. The lead swapped a few times once we caught up, and it was a lot of fun for us non-competitive types. Near the top Craig and I were sideby-side with the poor En elds running out of pu at close to 5600m, but neither of us was prepared to back o . Failing to see a concrete culvert until it was too late, we slammed into it together, the 10cm of suspension travel unable to absorb the impact. Craig’s handlebars slipped down in the mounts close to his knees and my carrier bag went airborne. We managed to stay upright, although it wasn’t pretty.
It was a forced stop during which we nearly died laughing. I’m not kidding. Have you tried uncontrolled laughter at 5600m?
Left: Looking back at Leh.
Above: Descending the Khardung pass. Below: The highest motorable road in the world.
After composing ourselves and straightening the bikes we rode the nal few hundred metres to the summit.
Lazy day
Lots of photos and a push-up competition between New Zealand and Australia followed at the summit. A draw was declared, keeping trans-Tasman relations intact, and we then cruised the 40km back down the massive hill to welcome beers and dinner. That night Mike had a diplomatic chat in my ear about being a bit kinder on the poor machines. Fair enough, too. They were never designed to be ridden that hard.
We stopped back in Leh for another day checking out the surroundings. The whole area had a huge military presence with army bases everywhere. The airport was a military landing strip shared with civilian planes and we were woken by ghter jets screaming overhead, practicing for the day when it’s for real with nearby Pakistan or China. It was an easy day with the highlight being a ride back along the Indus Valley to visit the Thikse Gompa. The dramatic Buddhist monastery clings to the side of a hill with great views over the surrounding countryside and it’s full of pictures of the Dali Lama who makes regular visits to train new monks. It was a lazy afternoon and we nished the day draining an Old Monk.
Kashmir
We woke to a beautiful ne day and headed o down the Indus Valley where there was a contrast to the rough roads of previous days. It was asphalt-road heaven with many kilometres of fantastic corners and incredible scenery. The old En elds were ideal for the conditions: not too fast, just purring along and taking in some of the best roads I’d ridden – it doesn’t get much better.
After a nice samosa lunch we turned o the main thoroughfare and climbed an amazing narrow mountain road with very steep sides and big drop o s – it wasn’t for the fainthearted. There was an area beside this road best described as a ‘moonland’ of light-coloured rock wedged into a high valley. It was very unusual and apparently a parched lake zillions of years ago. A little further on we were above Lamayuru and a spectacular 1000-year-old Buddhist gompa perched on a near-vertical hillside.
After a couple of photos we kept heading west, crossing two more high passes, the Fatu La and the Namika La, and arriving in a little town called Mulbekh. There, having spent the rst week of our travels in Hindu-dominated Himachal and the second week in the Buddhist Ladakh, we now crossed the threshold into muslim Kashmir and proceeded through to Kargil for the night.
Kargil was unnervingly close to the disputed border with Pakistan and the site of several recent con icts between the two nuclear nations.
Srinagar and the Dal Lake
A chilly ride on good roads to Drass lled the next morning, a place which apparently has the second-coldest temperature ever recorded at minus-60 degrees! It’s not something I’d boast about. Don’t visit in winter unless you’d like to freeze to death.
It was then a ride up a very scenic valley, checking our paperwork with the local military before crossing yet another high pass, the Zoji La, at 3500m. More fantastic mountain scenery greeted us as we dropped into a stunning green valley for lunch in Sonamarg, described as the Switzerland of India. It was a total change from previous days.
After lunch we continued descending the beautiful valley, riding beside a turbulent river as the tra c and population increased. Proceeding through the Vale Of Kashmir we arrived at Srinagar, the troubled-but-exquisite capital of Jammu And Kashmir State, where our accommodation consisted of a luxury houseboat moored on the picturesque Dal Lake.
1: The mountain road to the Lamayuru monastery.
2: Kashmir twisties.
3: Looking down on the 1000–year–old Lamayuru monastery.
4: Narrow road cut into the cliffs in Kashmir. u
ADVENTURE Rider
Greg, close to the Zoji pass.
With a
paddle
The military presence was huge, with a lot of hardware evident.
Srinagar has been the centre of the dispute over Kashmir since the troubles began at the time of partition, 50 years ago. Violence has peaked and ebbed several times, all but destroying the tourism industry upon which much of the city’s economy depended. In the mid-1980s, 650,000 tourists each year ocked to the beautiful lakes of Srinagar to enjoy the decadence of lazing on a houseboat for a week. A decade later only 5000 each year were venturing into Kashmir, although the position had improved considerably in more recent years. We spent the next morning visiting local sights, including checking out the famous handmade carpets woven there.
After lunch Terry and Greg had a local barber trim their hair and cut o all the accumulated stubble with a cut-throat razor, and the transformation was a big improvement.
The day nished with a paddle through the city’s backwaters in a shikkara, the unique Kashmiri gondolastyle paddled boat.
Southward bound
Day 15 saw us heading south from Srinagar on a very busy highway to one of Jammu And Kashmir’s hill stations, Patnitop. On the way we experienced the rather impressive Jawahar Lah tunnel, 2.5km long and literally right through a mountain with no lighting. We had to see our way with the aid of the one-candlepower En eld light. None of us needed our sunnies.
The tra c on this day was madness. Indians have to be right up there as the worst drivers in the world. If there are rules nobody follows them. It’s just a crazy freefor-all. The machine guns and unrest aren’t the worry – it’s the kamikaze drivers who are the real danger.
A rather damp group arrived at the hilltop hotel after rain started pelting down around 3:00pm, and the warming Old Monk had to be secreted and mixed into bottles of Coke as we were still in a Muslim country and alcohol was frowned upon.
McLeod Ganj and the Dalai Lama
After more tra c madness and trying not to end up with a Tata truck badge embedded in our foreheads, we wound through the mountain roads on a mix of tar and dirt,
KashMiR: Mystic adventuRe
Above: Cockpit view after leaving Drass. Below: Terry at a cool Drass.
even outrunning a monsoon downpour before lunch. Fingers Ha z had to spring into action yet again after the rear subframe mounts broke and the seat ended up sitting on the rear tyre of my trusty steed. No problem to Fingers. He wheeled it into a nearby welding shop while we were having lunch and before we’d nished it was xed. I wouldn’t consider a tour here without the excellent back-up provided, though I copped a bit of a ribbing from the team for it needing to be repaired again.
We didn’t outrun the next downpour, arriving in McLeod Ganj rather damp. Now out of Muslim territory and back into the state Himachal, a warming drink wasn’t a problem.
The following day was spent in McLeod Ganj, the home of Tibet’s spiritual leader, the Dalai Lama. He was forced to ee in 1959 following the Chinese invasion of his homeland and this has been his home and the seat of the Tibetan government-in-exile. Tibetans have never given up hope they will one day be permitted to reclaim what is rightfully theirs.
A good massage and some real co ee were the highlight of the day. You could be mistaken for thinking you were in Tibet as most of the population is descended from there.
That evening was a boomer. We had a nice meal in a rooftop restaurant and bar, and as it cleared, the owners, a really nice couple, got together with us for a night of fun. We didn’t leave until 2:00am.
The Grand Trunk Road
It was with fuzzy heads at 8:00am we kicked our En elds into life, headed south and down from the hills and onto the plains. Chandigarh was our destination –where it all started a few short weeks ago –stopping the night there after the ride in on busy roads.
Earlier in the Himalayan mountains and passes there had been a bit of tra c at times, but it was pretty spread out due to the remoteness. Once back in the more populated areas it picked up considerably and we had to get used to lots of people. This place was very di erent after New Zealand and Australia.
Our nal day on the bikes was to ride the Grand Trunk Road to Delhi. This is one of the great highways of the world and the busiest in India, described by Rudyard Kipling as ‘that veritable river of humanity’. It traverses the country from Calcutta in the east right through Lahore in Pakistan to the Khyber Pass in Afghanistan. Tra c consists of as many bullock carts, camels, cows and
pedestrians as it does cars, buses and trucks, so it was a matter of keeping our eyes peeled and thumbs over the horn. We survived the 250km of Grand Trunk Road and arrived in Delhi mid-afternoon for a cold beer to calm our shattered nerves. We’d completed an epic 2500km trans-Himalayan adventure. Over a beer Mike told us we were the rst group in 20 years to complete the ride without someone dropping a bike. ‘Pretty good!’ we thought. ‘Better have another beer!’
The end game
A ride in Northern India wouldn’t be complete without a visit to the Taj Mahal. A trip had been arranged to Agra in an air-conditioned minibus to see the temple and Agra’s Red Fort. It was very impressive
Below:
and well worth the time taken. It included a nice drive down a very good highway, unlike the day before.
All good things come back to the beginning. This had been a fantastic adventure with good people. Everyone got on ne; Mike put together a great package with very good helpers. There was no way you could do and see as much as we did in three weeks without the organisation provided. The bureaucracy and paperwork of India would stop you before you even got started.
Above: A well laden Tata truck on the road to McLeod Ganj. The boys are unloading a bit of grain.
The group at the Taj Mahal. Mission accomplished.
Karen Ramsay
Words and images Karen Ramsay
Inspirations
Karen Ramsay points out we’re surrounded by motivational people, if only we take the time to look.
Ididn’t grow up in a motorcycling family. At one stage during my childhood Dad had a farm bike with a homemade sidecar. In truth it was a metal box for carting tools and parts around the farm, but he’d also take us for little joy rides up and down the track beside the house. I seem to recall that stopped when Mum took my sister for a ride. The sidecar and bike began parting company and they ended up through a barbed-wire fence.
In his youth Dad spent a bit of time on bikes. Speaking to him now, it appears it was mostly without a licence. When he
eventually went for his test, the cop asked him how he’d got to the police station. Dad said he’d come on the bike, to which the cop replied, “Well you can obviously ride,” and gave him his licence.
Apparently my grandfather also rode motorbikes. I’d always known he rode incredible distances on his pushbike, but never knew he had a motorbike rather than a car for many years.
You can do it
So apart from farmers riding ag bikes after their sheep and the experience of mustering and tailing out cattle in the
Main: Cold, wet and foggy. Perfect weather for the pink handguards and no problem for Karen, solo or in a group.
Right: The author’s grandfather. Bikes have been in the family, but the idea of riding for fun was a revelation.
Karen Ramsay
Northern Territory, I thought the only people who rode bikes were your stereotypical bikies. This might be really hard for people to comprehend, particularly anyone who has grown up with bikes. I was brought up to believe I could do anything and be anything I wanted. Much of my childhood was spent on tractors, building fences and in sheep yards, so it wasn’t as if I didn’t think women could ride motorbikes; it just never entered my head that anybody would ride bikes ‘for fun’. That’s why when I saw Charlie and Ewan’s Long Way Round it was such a revelation. All judgements about them doing it the easy way aside, they’ve inspired a lot of people to ride – so now you know who to blame when you see me wobbling around in your way.
I was talking to a good friend Meg about this, and she had the same sort of epiphany that started her riding. It was an article she read by a bloke riding through South America that made her realise travel by motorbike is possible. It ignited her passion.
MOTORBIKING
TOURING VIETNAM SINCE 2004
KaRen RaMsay
Above: Riding enjoyment is directly linked to attitude. Right: The rain out west meant the dirt roads were impassable.
Below: Riding alone? Why not?
Sometimes that’s all it takes for you to start thinking about the possibilities.
Deadlines
Sometimes inspiration can come from unexpected people. Another friend, who I’ve only ever known as a special ed teacher, one day revealed she’d ridden to Cape York back in the 1980s with her husband and a couple of mates.
Which just reminded me we should never be too quick to judge other riders based on their speed or bike (apart from me. In my case those assumptions are probably correct), because you just never know what they’ve achieved and how capable they are. Kim, who’s riding smoothly in the pack, did a solo trip around Australia. Sarah, who’s your sweep today, rode solo and unassisted across the Simpson. Col and Mick who’re riding buckets of bolts held together with ga er tape, made and rode those scrappers halfway across the country and back. Georgia, who appears too tiny for her bike, rode solo from Scotland into Africa. Kylie, who’s about to roost past you, has been riding enduro for 25 years. Liz, who’s in the support vehicle nursing a torn shoulder tendon, is a retired teacher and was a beginner rider before her recent 18-month trip through Asia to Iran with her partner.
Recently I had to go to Melbourne for Uni. I was surprised by how many of my workmates thought I was crazy, in the rst instance for riding that far and in the second for riding on my own. Compare that to a riding friend I spoke to as it was raining and
approaching dark 700kms from Melbourne who asked if I was going to make it that night. To me it’s perfectly logical to ride 1800km to spend three-and-a-half days somewhere then turn around and ride home again. I think to most of us it would be. As for riding alone, why would I not? I’ve got a rst aid kit, spare tube and half a block of chocolate and I’m quite capable with each of them.
All in
Each of us has a di erent reason for being into adventure riding. It could be the thrill of pushing ourselves and our bikes to our limit. Perhaps it’s the chance to discover new places, countries or cultures. Maybe it’s the opportunity to challenge yourself. Perhaps it’s the best way we can think of to be exploring the country. Whatever your motivation,
All the rain out west meant I couldn’t take the dirt roads I wanted to. But by far the worst part was having to ride to a deadline. Two days down and two days back again meant there was little room for detours. I hadn’t realised how much I enjoy just lling in the blanks between the start and end of a trip. The necessity of covering a set distance in a time frame is a lot di erent to having two days to wander around before ending up back at home.
it’s a shared love and passion that transcends age, culture, social status and ability.
Who knows, perhaps you might be the inspiration for someone to start riding.
R People soon stop laughing at my pink handguard covers when the weather turns cold and wet
R Deadlines can sap some of the joy out of riding
R You might be surprised by some of the people you know who’ve got their own bike story
R Not all of us can ride like Toby Price or Amy Harburg
R Riding enjoyment is directly linked to attitude
Words: Miles Davis
Miles Davis covers o some important skills and concepts. A
couple of issues ago we covered some wheelie basics, trying to tie in the key elements at slow speed to unweight or lift the front wheel over obstacles. It’s always smart to start o with the basics and at a conservative speed. The big thing is getting the timing right and blending everything together in a smooth and controlled way.
The next step could be looking at a slightly faster stand-up wheelie that uses many of the same control skills.
Instead of simply lofting the front wheel for a short distance, speci cally to get over an obstacle, you might let it hang in the air for a bit longer.
I remember when this sort of wheelie really clicked for me. I was riding regularly with an ex-racer who could wheelie up hills and around corners, and he gave me a few tips that really helped me get my head around extended wheelies. I was trailriding a KLX300 in the desert mountain areas inland from LA and at the end of each ride we would head back up the mountain road which was the perfect place to practice. The KLX was the ideal bike as it has some torque and smooth power, but not tonnes of it, so things happened slower and more predictably, giving a chance to understand what’s going on.
He told me to stand up, and in second or third gear start from low revs, smoothly wind on the throttle and, as the engine came into the sweet spot, bounce on the suspension to get it to compress. When it rebounded I had to use the clutch and throttle to get the front wheel up.
Depending on each bike, the sweet spot may be at lower or higher RPM, but it’s generally not too high or you’ll run out of revs too quick. If the front wheel comes up quite high, you have a chance to keep it there by modulating the throttle and using your body position to maintain balance. If the front wheel doesn’t come up very high to start it’ll probably want to come back down right away, even with the throttle tapped out.
As with the slow wheelie, it’s important to cover the rear brake in case you go past the balance point. If that happens you can add a bit of brake drag to bring it back.
Now that you know what to do, keep
Miles davis
practicing. Bit by bit you’ll develop the feel and it’ll start clicking. Before I knew it I was holding third-gear wheelies at balance point without accelerating. If you want to go a bit faster, let the gear rev out a bit and, when the revs are in the right spot, do a short, sharp, gear change and keep it going a bit longer. Once I had the feel on the KLX I was able to transfer that to other bikes, but when you’re trying it on another bike always use the step-by-step method. Start o small and build it gradually. Don’t just try to cut to the chase or you might get caught out, and ipping a bike is most people’s nightmare. Luckily I’ve only ever ipped a motocross bike at low speed a few times many years ago when I was learning. It’s part of the learning process and it’s always best done on a smaller, cheaper bike at low speed on a grassy hill – not on an expensive, big-bore twin adventure bike at 130km or more on the road.
Good luck, and have fun!
Tyres
I get asked a lot about tyres and hear and see lots of conversations on the topic. I think riders of adventure bikes sometimes get caught up in the hype around using tyres that: rstly make up for their shortcomings in the dirt and provide all of this magical grip; and secondly, last forever.
The problem with this is, it’s not uncommon at times to spend a fair portion of time on the road and wet roads. And wet roads is where the budget and long-lasting adventure tyres are at their worst. Conditions were pretty crap riding back from the recent Adventure Rider Magazine Northern Congregation. It was cold, wet and foggy. I was on a borrowed 1200GSA that had a totally ogged-out Pirelli Rally Cross tyre that probably only had two or three millimetres of tread in the middle. I kitted up and headed o with all of my Goretex zipped up and my pinlock visor u
adventuRe-Riding tips
clean and ready to stay clear. My rough route had some dirt and twisty roads and I was a touch nervous about the back hoop as I haven’t had much time on the Pirelli.
The rst dirt section wasn’t too bad, but had some greasy sections, so I took it pretty easy and the bike was fairly well-behaved. Then I hit the Bruxner Highway, which I’d loved in the dry a couple of days prior. I had the luxury of traction control on the GSA and it’s great in those conditions. With traction control, I generally try to push the bike until I notice the electronics cut in, then ride in a way that’s close to that level without over-relying on it. Bit by bit I accelerated quicker out of corners, braked a bit later and ran higher corner speeds. Before I knew it I was having a proper go. I don’t mean I was riding hard, but I was riding quite fast and as smooth as I could. Even when I tried a bit harder I didn’t really get the traction control to kick in.
A bit further on I took the backtracks to Toonumbar Dam into the back of Kyogle and then into the Gold Coast. I had an amazing ride in pretty crap conditions. The moral of the story is, don’t be a tightarse with rubber and it might save a crash on wet roads. You might have more fun or at least be less stressed.
R On road – premium brand tyres (Pirelli, Conti, Metzeler, Michelin etc) will still work well on sketchy wet tar even when they’re almost shagged. Cheap tyres generally won’t, even with tread
R O road – technique counts for a lot more than a new rear tyre. How many times have you seen a rider with a shagged tyre not be the person having troubles on low-grip surfaces?
R Don’t rate a tyre purely by how long it might last. Rate it on how it grips in all conditions as well as how long it might last
I don’t ride a nice bike to try and save $100 on a rear tyre every few thousand kilometres. I ride to have fun on the road and dirt!
Keep left and ride for longer
Lately I’ve heard a few too many stories of riders being injured or killed from head-on accidents where the rider was at fault.
I often see riders cutting blind corners and it really concerns me. The consequences can be so serious. It’s not just the rider, either. Imagine the impact on the people in the car, and the families and so forth. Riding has its inherent dangers many of us happily accept as worth the risk due to our passion for riding, but to me, riders putting themselves in this situation shows a lack of respect to themselves, others and riding itself. Have a think about it on your next ride, see what you’re doing and what your mates are doing. It’s as simple as this: imagine a LandCruiser or logging truck coming around every blind corner. How would you fare? Have fun and be safe out there.
preparing for adventure
challenge chapter two
Last issue we left trauma nurse and trained paramedic Andrea Box in a tent in Antalaha, Madagascar, awaiting the start of Touratech’s inaugural United People of Adventure…
Images: Touratech. Words: Andrea Box
Main: Sections without bridges often needed a team effort of pushing and pulling to 昀椀nd a way through the swampy bogs.
Above &right: A visit to an orphanage and school was both joyous and heartbreaking.
Before leaving Antalaha we visited the local orphanage and school, and seeing the children was both joyous and heartbreaking. They took such pride in their simple surroundings and were so welcoming of visitors on strange motor-
bikes. There’s no State or government funding for orphanages in Madagascar, and as we were shown around I couldn’t help but notice many of the 36 orphans slept on old straw mattresses with threadbare sheets that would’ve been a haven for bedbugs and eas. The cooking area was so far from our western idea of a kitchen, but they just made do with what they had. The dining area was laid out for dinner, but there weren’t enough bowels and cutlery
u
pRepaRing FoR adventuRe
for all the children to eat at once.
Power was used sparingly if at all and in a dim room a young woman was concentrating over medical textbooks. The nuns explained with grins of pride that she was the rst of their orphans to make it to university and would stay with them until she graduated as a doctor.
As we sat down over dinner that night we were quiet. Our afternoon at the orphanage had given us all food for thought.
The sight of our bikes parked in the schoolyard created a stark contrast. It was impossible not to compare the luxury of our hobby to their basic surrounds. Talk soon started about what we could to help, and with a hand from Momo, the owner of the hotel where we were lodged, mattresses and other necessities were bought and delivered to the orphanage. It’s rare with charity to be able to impact those less fortunate so directly, and for me it was de nitely a highlight of our trip.
The locals
Considering the largest local bike I saw was a light and practical 200cc, we created quite a spectacle. The mayor of Antalaha had heard about our trip and organised the town football eld for us to park the bikes and meet some of the friendly locals. Much to our amazement hundreds of people turned up. While we couldn’t really communicate with them in Madagascan or
Left: Omar, the lovably crazy Egyptian, started giving the local children rides. The author and other riders soon joined in.
French, it turned out that engine noises are the international language of bike lovers.
Women don’t ride motorbikes in Madagascar, so Ramona and I were quite a novelty and many of the ladies and girls shyly came up.
I’d hold their little ones as they sat on my bike for a photo. They were so respectful of our gear, and if we weren’t standing with our bike they wouldn’t even touch or sit on it.
Omar, the lovably crazy Egyptian, started giving the local children rides around the soccer pitch and before long the policeman had the kids forming a queue and we were all giving joyrides. The children started o small and two at a time they climbed onto my Tiger. Slowly the size of the kids grew and before I could say, ‘No,’ I had two fullgrown men sitting on the back of my bike.
The adventure begins
Riding out of Antalaha we quickly ate up the only 10km of asphalt we would see on the entire trip.
Bottom right: Teetering barges were pulled across by rope or pushed by bamboo poles.
Below: The bridges were often just logs laid width-ways through the mud and water with longways planks put down on top.
Following the sign to Cape Est we hit the dirt and, thanks to unseasonal rain, the slick surface had a few of us landing in the mud fairly quickly. When the traction control kicked in unexpectedly midway through a mug bog I found myself dumped ungracefully into the puddle. Luckily, the Touratech-equipped Triumph Tiger 800 I was riding was well-suited to the conditions (once I gured out how to turn the traction control o ). The riding conditions tested us from the very beginning and we had to work together to get the bikes across many of the bogs. We had some local riders along with us, and while they seemed to nd a special amusement in seeing what we were attempting on our big adventure bikes, they were the rst to help when ’bikes got stuck. As often happens, a mutual passion for ’bikes seems to be enough to cross culture and language barriers.
As they happen
There were many rivers to cross. Some had bridges in various states of repair, and the track we were on did have a small amount of local car tra c, so the bridges appeared to have just enough maintenance done to keep them usable. The larger rivers needed a punt or raft to cross, and loading the bikes onto these makeshift barges that barely sat above the waterline was a nerve-wracking process. The teetering barges were then pulled across by rope or
pushed by bamboo poles.
We all quickly adjusted to the slower pace of life, picking up the native saying, ‘Mora, mora’. The closest literal translation would be ‘Slowly, slowly’. It’s used to cover everything from, ‘Slow down, take it easy, be patient,’ to, ‘Relax – things will happen when they happen’.
The Madagascans have mastered the art of just enjoying things as and when they occur.
Tucker time
Initially we were worried about what food we would be able to buy along the way and before we set o we stocked up on staple ingredients like rice, our, vegetables and, of course, Madagascan co ee. We rode away by 6:30am most days and our morning co ee was welcomed. Lunch was usually replaced with snacks on the go.
We soon learned we could get coconuts just by nding a local with a machete and asking them, “Coconut, merci?” and holding up ngers to indicate the number we wanted to buy. Grabbing a handwoven basket the friendly locals u
Above: Some bridges had just enough maintenance done to keep them usable.
Right middle: Refreshing coconut water was nature’s answer to Gatorade.
would smile and disappear into the thick jungle and reappear a little later with fresh coconuts in hand. Never having been a big coconut fan I was quickly converted. The refreshing coconut water was nature’s answer to Gatorade and cracking them open to eat the coconut esh gave us a much-needed energy boost.
Dinner was a group a air. July (Asia) and Ben (North America) were our resident ‘Masterchefs’. They led the way with cooking and had us all slicing and stirring our way to some very gourmet camp meals. Our rest day even saw bread and naan being baked, something I’ve never experienced on a ’bike trip before. We also carried dehydrated meals that could be quickly made with hot water as emergency rations. The Madagascan people were welcoming and we were often able to buy a meal of sh or chicken from them. The freshness of the food was never in question, as the chicken would be caught from the yard as we ordered.
My wheels
I was lucky enough to be riding the Triumph Tiger 800 XCX, and while the three-cylinder engine makes its own special tune, it doesn’t have an impressive growl. But its smooth purr de nitely grows on the rider. I had the XC model at home and I found the suspension upgrade on this model to be my favourite aspect of the bike. To have standard suspension – by WP – that needed no tweaking or upgrades was a pleasant surprise. Its ability to maintain traction and smooth-out the ride over rough conditions was quite impressive and the 21-inch front wheel with knobby tyre de nitely made my life easier in the sand and mud. The only drawbacks to the bike were that the position of the tank bag could get in the way, and the inconvenient safety feature that means the traction control has to be turned o again every time the bike is started up.
Top left: The larger rivers needed a punt or raft to cross.
Above: Doctors Gudmunder (Iceland) and Robert (Australia) con昀椀rmed Omar’s 昀椀bula was broken.
Below: The last rider always had a hard time as there were no fresh lines to try.
The going gets tough
Continuing south the track got narrower and became suitable for foot- and motorbike tra c only.
As the track turned from mud back to packed sand we all relaxed a little, enjoying the reprieve from the slick surface. Catching his wheel in the soft sand in the middle of the track Omar (Egypt) was thrown o his bike and landed at an odd angle. The bike came down on top of him and crushed his ankle. Sitting under the shelter of a tree at the edge of a tiny remote village Omar clutched his leg and the Doctors Gudmunder (Iceland) and Robert (Australia) con rmed that his bula was broken as I splinted and strapped his ankle. Hours later, with much disappointment and painkillers in his system, Omar watched his Super Ténéré loaded into the back of a local pickup. He was unable to stand on his leg and there was no way he could ride, so with heavy hearts we continued south without our joking Egyptian.
Accept it
The bridges, if you could even call them that, were often just logs laid width-ways
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through the mud and water with longways planks put down on top, sometimes fastened down, more often not. Most of them needed some level of rebuilding before we could negotiate them and they often looked worse for wear by the time we got all the bikes across. Sections without bridges often needed a team e ort of pushing and pulling to nd a way through the swampy bogs, and the last rider always had a hard time as there were no fresh lines to try to get a little extra traction from. The weather added an extra dimension of di culty. As we couldn’t ever get our feet dry the rain and humidity had us ghting o trench foot and red, fungal welts started to appear. I gave up trying to keep clothes dry and just accepted that either with rain or sweat I’d be drenched the whole time.
Next issue will complete Andrea’s adventure as she and the Touratech United People of Adventure group face tropical cyclone Fanatla and nd themselves faced with some tough decisions.
Above: The Triumph Tiger 800XCX performed well in tough conditions.
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Coolmax luxury- tted removable liner and cheek pads
Aerodynamic shell with multi-port venting system
Oversize goggle anti-fog vents above the eye port
Custom-moulded rubber trim with integrated goggle strap channels
ShAd wAterprooF SAddlebAgS
Fix straight to all motorcycles thanks to the included straps.
R Each bag measures 40cm x 35cm x 15cm
R Capacity is 18 litres per bag (one XXL helmet)
yAMAhA enduro jAcket
Polyester 330D riding jacket in sizes SM – 3XL.
R Enduro/rally cut type
R Ventilated inner lining
R Velcro-adjustable collar and cu s
R Eyelet exit for hydration pack
R Ease zippers on the lower part of the jacket
R Pocket on bottom back jacket
R Adjustable belt on waist
R Inside pocket at back for water bladder
RRP: $290
Available from: Your local authorised Yamaha Dealer or Y-Shop Web: yshop.yamaha-motor.com.au
R Straps + velcro + elastic attachment straps
R Waterproof – folds on top to block water entry
R Comfort handle
RRP: $209
Available from: Moto National Accessories Web: www.motonational.com.au
Motorrad Garage
Yamaha XTZ660 Ténéré
New Multistrada 1200 Enduro
The Wild Side of Ducati
Wherever the adventure takes you, now you can follow it all the way. On any terrain, in any condition, the new Ducati Multistrada 1200 Enduro is designed to experience the journey with a new style, new performance and new technology. The 160 hp Ducati Testastretta DVT engine, 30 litre tank, 19” front wheel, spoked wheels and 200 mm wheel travel. New Ducati Multistrada 1200 Enduro. We’ve given it everything, except boundaries.
