Adventure Rider Issue #44

#go ADVENTURE

Tom Foster - Editor It’s we what do

A

nother year is just about shot. Or, another way of looking at it is, there’s a new year of riding in front of us.

I doubt 2020 will have been anyone’s favourite, but there were some real high points. Some truly incredible bikes were offered in the 2020 model year, and while restrictions on travel were a pest, a flick through the magazine from issues #38 to this one proves there was still plenty of great riding going on. Adapting to changing situations is a big part of adventure riding, and looking through the stories from the past year I see people riding in their back yards, riding along borders, finding new roads, trails and destinations in their home regions and, best of all, reaching out with support for each other all across the nation.

So while I acknowledge it wasn’t the

best year ever, I can’t help but feel there were some very strong and uplifting aspects to the whole shitfight.

For what it’s worth, my favourite bike in 2020 was the Husky 701 Enduro LR, and if I were pressed to pick a favourite ride it would probably have been the Daryl Beattie Adventures run from Uluru to Alice. As the riders returned to the airport at the end of that ride borders began to close and the country shut down, so there haven’t been too many opportunities to experience anything on that scale since.

But still, when I think of gliding along

“ The Aussie adventure riding community is made up of some of the world’s best people. ”

through those long stretches of Northern Territory desert, the sunrises and sunsets, the places we stopped and things we saw, and of course the great people on the ride, I can’t help but smile at a really great memory that’ll stick with me for a long time.

I can only hope everyone can find similar highlights in their own experiences from the year.

That leaves us all trembling with excitement as we stand on the brink of 2021.

Restrictions are cautiously lifting around the country, Toby Price looks fit and ready for a big result at Dakar, and KTM has just announced the release of an 890. The Congregation is poised for a triumphant return, hopefully on both the east and west coasts, and the Touratech KLR is running like a Swiss watch and I’m busting for The Mac Attack and I to both finish a ride without one – or both – of our bikes having a problem.

Mate! I’m peeing my pants to get into this next year! It can’t get started soon enough for me.

Australia’s adventure riders have toughed it out and are about to be rewarded with a freedom we probably took for granted until a year or so ago. That’s an exciting prospect.

From all of the grateful crew at Adventure Rider Magazine – especially from me – it’s been truly humbling to be accepted and embraced by such an awesome group and we thank you. The Aussie adventure-riding community is made up of some of the world’s best people. Enjoy your Christmas and New Year in the manner of your choice, and I’ll look forward to crossing trails with you all in some wild and untamed destination in the coming year. The sooner the better.

Adventure Moto (chased)

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BMW GS

safari 2020

Adventure Moto’s Steve Smith and Chris Bostelman tackled BMW’s premier ride. A lot depends on a rider’s point view.

Words and images: Steve Smith and Chris Bostelman

Left: The five-day BMW GS Safari was directed primarily at dirt-road riders, guys and gals new to adventure riding, or the type of rider who no longer had anything to prove and was out for a dirt cruise with mates.

Right: “Let’s have a few beers and a few red wines!”

Arrival: Chris B

Every GS Safari starts with fitting beautiful new rubber.

On the left shoulder was Alvin –the angel.

Alvin said, “Do not listen to Davo.”

Standing next to the support truck and smelling all that new rubbery goodness gave a sneak peek into the fun of the upcoming week.

Before we knew it, sign in was done. Riders were ready, bikes were fettled and reshod, and everyone had their Safari goodie bags. The welcome dinner was upon us.

Davo – the devil who sits on the adventure rider’s right shoulder –said, “Game on! Let’s have a few beers and a few red wines!”

“ Standing next to the support truck and smelling all that new rubbery goodness gave a sneak peek into the fun of the upcoming week. ”

“The first day of an organised ride is the most dangerous. Everyone is full of bravado and there could be cheques written that reaction times and physiques can no longer cash. Don’t overindulge. Get plenty of rest.” There hadn’t been any riding at that stage, so it was hard to know which one to trust.

Arrival: Steve S

Below right: An outdoor briefing, maintaining the social distancing and wearing masks. u

When the third bottle was empty and the shots were underway, Davo pointed out we were away from home, on holiday, and the bed was available at any time.

It had been a long time between drinks – nine years since my last BMW GS Safari – and I was looking forward to catching up with old friends and customers and meeting new ones. This was a last-minute gig for me, but a welcome relief. It’d been quite a few

months of navigating the COVID19 lockdown, border closures and the dreaded pandemic, so it was simply great to get some quality helmet time.

The GS Safari team had a COVID19 plan in place, and all those attending were reminded staying safe was an individual’s responsibility.

didn’t have a Davo or Alvin sitting on my shoulders, but I have a wife and five kids who expected me to ride safe and get home in one piece on my new 1250GSA.

‘Take it easy on day one,’ I cautioned myself.

meet Larry Narunsky, back riding after 10 years. He started his dualsport adventure on an F650GS but now rides a 1200GS. Josh Jenkins had been riding

on the road since he was 17 and this was his second GS Safari after being bitten by the dirt bug. Josh, like a lot of guys I meet and chat with on GS Safaris, had done the training and wanted to put it into play.

Tony Rejc had been riding a BMW for six years and it was his second Safari, too.

Like a lot of guys going through a lateto mid-life crisis, Tony rode as a youngster, gave it up, then came back to motorcycling after a 20-year hiatus.

With plenty of group-ride experience under my belt, I was impressed at how

Above: “The best rider on the day is the rider who has the biggest smile at the end of the ride”.

well organised and run the BMW GS Safari was. The five-day ride was directed primarily at dirt-road riders, guys and gals new to adventure riding, or the type of rider who no longer had anything to prove and was out for a dirt cruise with mates.

It was definitely not directed at Toby Price wannabes.

Batemans Bay to Jindabyne: Chris B

The track was laid out and had been preridden that morning. Turns were arrowed, medical support, tech support, sweep vehicles and crew were all there, and luggage was transported so the bike was as light as it was ever going to be on a five-day ride.

Below: Two days riding the beautiful area around Jindabyne. u

FOUR DECADES OF GS

Davo started again: “Let’s style it up,” he insisted. “Chase the dust. If we happen to roost some other riders, oh well. They should learn to ride faster. Let’s go!”

Magnificent open roads and green pastures were the flavour of the day. Davo was on about winding the big twin out and seeing how few kilometres we could get out of the rear tyre. Alvin, on the other hand, was suggesting, “Leave traction control on. Keep those fantastic BMW safety systems active, you just never know when you might need them.”

The scenery was great, so much so that we spent two days riding this beautiful

Left: Nasty.

Right: Evidence that showed the consequences of listening to Davo.

Below: A flat tyre just after the lookout along Boboyan Road.

area and there were smiles all round as usual.

Someone was listening to their inner Davo, though. As we roosted over a crest –possibly travelling a little fast ourselves –we found evidence (probably manufactured) that showed the consequences of listening to Davo.

We had an outdoor briefing, keeping our distance from each other and wearing masks, before devouring a tower of pizzas and heading off to recharge our internal batteries for the start of hump day.

Batemans Bay to Jindabyne: Steve S

The first day was a cruise on the blacktop onto some easy dirt.

“The best rider on the day is the rider who has the biggest smile at the end of the ride”

At Braidwood I headed straight for the bakery for coffee and a chocky éclair and caught up with Steve Brine. Steve was having a few difficulties with his GPS. After a quick lesson an offer to ride together for

a while brought a smile to his dial. Steve was fairly new to adventure riding and had purchased a new 850GSA with the GS Safari as his goal.

I remembered a quote from an old friend who is still riding dirt in his late seventies: “The best rider on the day is the rider who has the biggest smile at the end of the ride”. Steve and I rode together and he certainly had the biggest smile as we pulled up to one of Cooma’s best cafes, the Turkish Kebab And Pizza Café. Steve had a dream and he was riding it!

Jindy-Canberra: Chris B

A cold morning greeted us and two of

the crew took off to check a washed-out causeway on the route. The others arrived to find one whole section of the old bridge was missing. Crossing meant riding the remaining slabs before dropping down a makeshift ramp of large river rocks and then plunging into the fastflowing water and back up a steepish, muddy hill.

The fight between the two inner adventure riders had begun. Davo yelled, “Just look ahead and hit it fast enough that you can’t fall off!”

“Nope,” counselled Alvin. “You might damage this wonderful piece of German engineering. We might get hurt. Someone might get a picture or video of us failing.”

“All the better!” screamed Davo. “Let’s post it and see how many likes, shares and views we can’t get. We might be famous!”

The majority of more experienced people got across with some guidance. Plenty of people listened to their inner Alvin and proceeded with due diligence. Some walked across and opted to have the support team assist with taking their bike over. No injuries were sustained by the sensible.

A fair few people made an attempt, and while there’s no better way to

challenge yourself than to try new riding opportunities on a supported ride, Davo struck more than once. There were plenty of people on their way to infamy via social media by the time everyone was across.

Above: “Leave traction control on. Keep those fantastic BMW safety systems active, you just never know when you might need them.”

All this excitement was in the first few hours of the day.

Reminders of the bushfires were visible as we headed north. Vast forests were burnt out and views from the lookouts in Namadgi National Park showed the magnitude. Recovery was underway, but it’ll be years before both flora and fauna and the many small towns return to their prefire state. Supporting small towns is another great by-product of adventure riding. Get out there and stimulate local economies. If you’re in a group, call ahead and let them prepare and maximise the opportunity.

Still south of Canberra we were spoilt with many creek and causeway crossings.

“Take it easy!” cried Alvin. “The photos will still be good.”

“Don’t be stupid,” said Davo. “Just do it!”

Peter Harvey-land couldn’t have been further from politics and world troubles as we headed into more magnificent forests dotted with purple and yellow flowers.

Jindy-Canberra: Steve S

Below: Contentment on the penultimate day near Jenolan Caves. u

From Jindy we blew through to Cooma and across to Adaminaby where I hit another bakery for breakfast. I almost got swallowed by a giant fish, too…or

were there ’shrooms in that breakfast pie? The ride up through the Brindabellas saw the scenery change dramatically. A flat tyre just after the lookout along Boboyan Road allowed time to make friends with Guy. Guy had copped the flat straight out from the lookout gate and was abandoned by his riding mates. He had all the gear but no idea! Between us we patched and inflated his rear tyre and had a casual chat about tyre pressures for big bikes on dirt. My view is on any dualsport over 700cc or over 200kgs you don’t

drop tyre pressures unless you absolutely have to. I run high-30s on the 1250 and would only drop pressures to low-30s if the going got sticky, loose or tough.

We headed for the giant telescopes at the Canberra Deep Space Complex. Sitting in the cockpit of my new GSA I felt I could simply hit another button, go Warp Factor Seven and imagine myself riding the red hills of Mars in a future life. The technology available in the new bikes, compared to my R1150GS sitting on the floor of the shop, left me feeling I needed a pilot’s license instead of a rider’s license.

The Brindabella National Park and surrounds was a beautiful place to ride. From tight forest trail to big dirt sweepers there’s a giant playground out there, and although we were restricted to NSW for this event, I couldn’t help but appreciate what great riding we had in my home state.

An overnight stay at the casino in our capital – ‘Come in, spinner!’ – meant a little luxury compared to the dormstyle accommodation we’d shared in Jindabyne.

Canberra-Bowral: Chris B

Davo struck again.

A mighty and well-farkled 1250 popped a beautiful but mistimed wheelie across a causeway and ended up with repairs required to both body and bike. Support was on hand swiftly and both were given the care they needed. The injured rider’s mates were very comforting and created a video with REM’s Everybody Hurts as a soundtrack, so the memories were etched in megabytes and shared extensively.

The day continued with more amazing off-road terrain and a run up through Kangaroo Valley in the rain – it’s not bad, only getting wet once on a five-day ride. You’ve got to be happy with that. Bowral was the stop for the night with more fine food, fine wine and fine company.

Canberra-Bowral: Steve S

The ride from the ACT back through Braidwood and looping around through Stewarts Crossing caught a few riders in the dust and off-camber bends. Joel on his red 800 injured a leg, which just goes to show that speed and dust can bring a rider unstuck just as easily as

technical terrain.

Most of the gang were excited about the sand track we rode before Nowra. The big twins with the Telelever front ends like to bury their noses when the throttle’s chopped. It takes confidence to maintain a pace and keep the power up on the soft stuff.

Another rock-strewn river crossing brought out the best and worst of our riding techniques, and a massive thunderstorm caught anyone not at the front of the pack before Bowral. Temperatures dropped by at least 10 degrees Celsius after the storm had swept through.

Bowral-Leura: Chris B

The next day we rode through scores of pine-forest trails on the way to Jenolan Caves, and the amazing riding conditions continued as we wound down into Caves House. The terrain was ideal for the range of GSs on the ride and each model lapped up whatever was served.

What a great way to spend the week!

Riding those amazing bikes through hand-picked tracks with professional support. Who wouldn’t be looking forward to the next GS Safari?

The final night was just like the previous four, filled with good humour, loads of smiles, plenty of stories and more than the odd video shared. Awards were given out to participants by industry sponsors which all helped support and foster the camaraderie that makes adventure riding what it is.

Who would you have listened to: the devil or the angel?

Bowral-Leura: Steve S

The last day saw me pick up the pace. was determined to get through Jenolan Caves before the road closed for a few

hours between 11.45am and 1.15pm. I blasted through at 11.30am then relaxed as we hit the dirt down through Coxs River and Hartley Vale. My head was clear as I pulled into Leura and the ride was all but finished.

This had been Adventure Moto’s first invitation to support a BMW GS Safari, and it was great to offer a few prizes to punters who had come together to beat both COVID19 and border restrictions. What an amazing effort by Boothy and the Moto Development team. A big thanks to Anthea, Chris Urquhart’s partner, who couldn’t attend because he was running the Queensland event simultaneously. Anthea had to go through quarantine to get home over the QLD border.

Top: Almost swallowed by a giant fish. Above left: Spoilt with many creek and causeway crossings.

Left: Adventure Moto’s first invitation to support a BMW GS Safari. It was great to offer a few prizes. Right: Magnificent open roads and green pastures were the flavour of the day.

Triumph Tiger 900 Rally Pro

At last! After what seems like an eternity we’ve ridden one of the bikes we’ve been most looking forward to in 2020. And it was well worth the wait.

Everything that was great about the 800s, but with some awesome new features and real refinement.

Triumph’s triples have been right at the top of Adventure Rider Magazine’s favourite bikes for a long time. The 800 Tigers did some challenging and glorious rides for us, and the idea of slightly more engine capacity in a slimmer, lighter package…how could we be anything but ecstatic?

After riding the GT Pro in issue #42 we were left tonguing for the more off-road Rally Pro, and having ridden the bike we can now say all that drooling was entirely justified. It’s a clear evolution of the 800 Tigers and has abandoned none of the things which made those bikes so awesome.

Hard facts

A lot of the mechanical and electronic aspects of the GT Pro are naturally the same on the Rally Pro. You can go back and read the review in issue #42, but, in a nutshell:

v Capacity is now 888cc and the firing order has changed to a 1-3-2 pattern

v The single radiator of the 800 has been replaced with a twin-radiator arrangement

v The motor sits lower in the frame v Outright horsepower and torque have increased, AND v The engine is Euro 5 compliant and drives through an assisted slipper clutch.

The 900s are lighter than the 800s, carry more fuel, have Brembo Stylema Monobloc braking, and the My Triumph app allows the 17.8cm TFT screen to display whatever’s going on on the phone, including listening to music, reading texts, fielding calls and navigation, and the phone itself locks in a waterproof protective case, complete with a power supply, under the seat. Lighting is all LED of course, and seeing as we had the Pro variant, there are six riding modes, heated grips, heated seats, shift assist, cornering ABS and traction control, tyre-pressure monitoring, and backlit switching.

The Rally Pro is beautifully finished and smacks of quality, Triumph claims 93hp from the 201kg dryweight package, and suspension front and rear is Showa.

Images: Wilkinson Photography

Feeling good

Plonking our backsides on the 900 was like sliding into a favourite pair of running shoes. Everything felt familiar and put us in the mood to take on the world. The seat height of between 850mm and 870mm – depending where one of the world’s easiest seat-height adjustments was set –meant our test riders could get their feet on the ground and still not feel cramped when riding, and the TFT screen and general layout of the cockpit and switching was pretty much what we’ve been used to on the Triumphs for some time. The left switchblock has the little joystick under the thumb which is the heart of the matter when it comes to finding and selecting modes and parameters, and there’s a small button with an ‘M’ like a Montesa logo to take the rider straight to the modes. On the righthand switchblock is another flat button with the graphic of a house on it which, if everything gets a little wobbly, returns the display to the ‘Home’ screen and lets the rider start again.

Naturally there’s all the usual controls for lighting, self-cancelling blinkers,

Left: Plonking our backsides on the 900 was like sliding into a favourite pair of running shoes. Everything felt familiar and made us feel we were ready to take on the world.

Top left: Lots of information, especially when the phone is connected via the My Triumph app.

Above: The left-hand switchblock looks busy, but it’s the same as we’ve seen on Triumphs for a while now. It’s dead easy to use. u

horn and so forth.

The screen is interesting. It’s a spring-loaded affair, and adjusting the height is simply a matter of grabbing it, pushing forward and sliding it up or down to the desired position. It’s simple and effective and we used it a lot. On long road sections we had it at its full height and it did a good job of minimising the buffeting around the rider’s helmet. Off-road we slipped it down to its lowest position where it was well out of the way and didn’t chop into the rider’s face on whoops. We felt as though we adjusted it so often because it was so easy to do. Naturally we pulled the rubber inserts out of the footpegs, and – a huge salute to Triumph for listening to its customers – noticed the rear footpeg mounts and subframe are now detachable. Hallelujah. The rear ’peg mounts and rear-frame section on the 800s caused a lot of very

“ A huge salute to Triumph for listening to its customers. ”

Above: The Tiger 900 Rally Pro is a confidenceinspiring outfit.

Below left: Both subframe and rear footepgs and mounts can be unbolted.

Below: A toolkit included as standard equipment! Hooray!

minor lowsides to become major headaches. There’s no problem now. Undo the bolts and store the rear ’pegs until they’re needed.

The other facet of the 800s which had owners grinding their teeth was airbox access, and that’s been improved considerably on the 900. Those two seemingly small things will probably be a big deal for anyone looking to upgrade from the 800 to the new bike. It may seem out of proportion to those who haven’t lived with the 800, but anyone who’s snagged the rear footpeg in a soft fall and dealt with the consequences will understand why we think it’s such a step forward, and the same goes for the airfilter. Access was a bit of a pain.

“ Power and torque delivery is still unbelievably linear and incredibly smooth. ”

Added goodness

With the motor chuckling away we snicked into gear and roosted off, ready to be amazed.

We have to be honest and say we didn’t notice a big difference from the new firing order. The motor sounds and feels the tiniest whisker lumpier than the fluid drive we loved so much on the 800s, but the seat-of-the-pants response is very similar. Power and torque delivery is still unbelievably linear and incredibly smooth. Maybe the motor’s drive isn’t quite as smooth as it used to be, but…honestly, we wouldn’t have picked it. It did seem to us throttle response was a little sharper than we remembered, and that was in all modes. Sport certainly made us very glad the traction control and ABS were there to look after us, especially when we got

Right: Just as good for sightseeing as it is for carving up on the dirt.

Top right: Showa suspension front and rear is a considerable step up from the Marzocchis on the GT Pro.

Right: Heated seats and a 12-volt power supply. Ritzy!

all carried away and started some boy-racer nonsense on the Oxley Highway. But even in Road mode we felt the throttle answered sharply. In Offroad and Offroad Pro we were too busy having a good time to worry about such trivialities as whether or not the throttle response was as fast as the last 800 we rode, and we were in raptures at the Showa suspension. It was a considerable upgrade from the Marzocchi’s on the GT Pro once we hit the dirt, rocks and ruts. The extra ground clearance was much appreciated as well, especially when it was so easy to get our feet on the ground. Action is firm, but both ends did really well on our usual suspension-testing section of track. Ground clearance was surprising, and the spec sheet claims 240mm of wheel travel at the front and 230mm at the rear.

The forks adjust with clickers for rebound and compression and nuts for preload, all on the top of the fork legs, and the shock has the usual screwdriver clicker for rebound and a reasonably easy-to-use winder for preload. The go was to prop the bike on the centrestand and unweight the shock. In that position preload adjustment wasn’t a big effort.

No escape

Although it’s the off-road prowess of the 900 Rally Pro that had us so excited, we did knock over some reasonable road kilometres as well, and the bike handled it beautifully. We bumped the

Recommended retail: $22,550 plus on-road costs. Web: triumphmotorcycles.com.au

Engine type: Liquid-cooled, 12-valve,

screen up to its highest position, set the cruise-control to the appropriate streetlegal speed and sat back to enjoy the scenery.

Then the bloody phone rang, and because we were hooked up we had to answer the poxy thing.

That did remind us we had music available, so that was nice.

We averaged near-enough 21km per litre of mixed riding, and that meant we could count on 400km from a tank. The most we asked from a nonstop run was 320km, and the fuel light was on, but there were still two bars showing on the fuel gauge, so we felt 400km was realistic.

Left: Ground clearance was surprising, and the spec sheet claims 240mm of wheel travel at the front and 230mm at the rear.

Below: A quickshifter allowed fast or lazy gear changes. It worked well.

a good option in that scenario. But on this bike they limited our otherwise spectacular off-road prowess. The bike has a great deal more to offer than we were game to ask this time around.

We did go a bit mental on the road though. That was a lot of fun.

Reay to go

What’s interesting about that for us is the tank doesn’t feel huge. In fact, the whole bike felt like a three-bears deal: not too big and not too small. It’s just right.

The only real complaint we had with the ergonomics of the bike was the shape of the bodywork on the bottom back half of the tank. Each side has a sort of ridge and one of our test riders found it extremely uncomfortable to grip with the knees for any length of time. It didn’t bother others so much, so it may be something to do with rider height.

The other big limiting factor on our review bike was the Bridgestone Battlax AX41s. They’re a 70/30 road/dirt tyre, and

With great performance, good ergos and the proven reliability of the Triumph triple there’s not much needs to be done to the Rally Pro to take on the world. It even has a centrestand, heated grips, and spotties. Whatever anyone would like to add to the bike is probably available from the Triumph catalogue. There’s a big range of luggage, crash-protection and comfort clobber available, and if it’s all built to the same high-quality standards as the bike itself, it’ll be top-shelf gear.

We were sad to have to return the 900 Rally Pro. After the great rides we’ve done on the 800s we felt this was another tough, high-quality, well-designed bike with sparkling performance and serious adventure potential.

We’ll never be happy about saying goodbye to a bike as good as this one.

THE RIGHT COMPANION FOR EVERY PURPOSE.

No fear, no brains and a throttletwitchy hand

Words: Rod Taylor

Rod Taylor shares his journey and introduction to adventure riding…a story a lot of riders will relate to.

I’m not sure if it was the testosterone-red colour or the racy lines, but it was my first and I was terrified. didn’t mind though, because at the age of 14 we loved being terrified, and I spent the next five minutes wobbling around my cousin’s backyard on a Postie bike. I think even jabbed at the gearchange rocker and got the sucker up into second. I was bookin’!

Stepping up

My next moment of terror would have to wait a few months until my mate Craig bought a Suzuki TS185. A rabid, balltearing thing it was, too. Well, so it seemed to me. We headed up the back paddock to give it a go.

“D’ya know how to ride it?” he asked. “No wuckers, mate,” I bluffed. “I bin around.”

I didn’t qualify that ‘around’ meant my

and head back to where Craig was waiting.

“Throttle jammed,” I grimaced.

Right.

Had Craig been less polite, he’d have said what we both knew: “You were shitting yourself, weren’t you? Totally?”

I was so grateful he didn’t say that. I wanted to marry him and have his babies. Except I like girls. And besides, blokes don’t have babies.

Wham, bam, thank you ma’am

I had a few more rides on Craig’s bike, which fortunately didn’t involve any further embarrassment. The fun wasn’t over however, because his next bike was an evil beast: a Yamaha MX125 motocrosser. Even now I think I’d find that thing terrifying.

cousin’s backyard on a scooter, but hey, let’s not complicate the story. was gonna roost.

Of course, that meant figuring out all those controls, which included a few things bolted onto the handlebars. Let’s see…brake…throttle…and this other lever…worry about that later.

To my astonishment, I managed a clean launch.

With that sorted it was time to consider the next problem. Namely, the pile of dirt dead ahead and that other feature expected on a modern motorcycle: steering. Having ridden plenty of bicycles, I pretty much understood the procedure. The thing was though, I was terrified. Every muscle and orifice began to pucker. Over the pile went, legs and sundry bits waving in all directions.

With that crisis averted, I gathered myself enough to turn the plot around

The power delivery pretty much matched our adolescent sex drive. At 1000rpm nothing happened, the bike was a slug. At 3000rpm, it was still docile.

The tacho showed 4000, 5000 and kept

rising…no action. Then, at 8103rpm, it’d explode with gobs of eye-bugging, face-peeling acceleration. By 8107rpm it was over. Thank you, ma’am. I think we’re done.

’Round or down

It was a while before I could get my own bike, a far more placid Suzuki TS125. I remember excitedly waiting for it to arrive. I’d gone out and purchased a few hot-ticket items: a set of Doherty handgrips – which the bike mag used to rave about – some nice gloves and a helmet. It was the perfect bike, light and not too much power. I flogged the shit out of it, riding it flat-knacker everywhere. A couple of years later I sold it to

u

Left: “Get an adventure bike, ya pussy.”

Above: The author’s a keen adventure rider these days, but can reflect on a riding career filled with moments of high-adrenalin. Below: Flat-knacker on the Suzuki TS125.

a mate and bought myself a Yamaha DT250B. It had a radial-finned head, which was a thing back then. Well almost, because there were ‘proper’ motocross and enduro bikes, and the bike I really wanted was a Husqvarna or a Montesa. Still, I had wild fun and somehow managed to avoid braining myself, although not for want of trying.

One day we were fanging through the pine forest and I was creamin’ it down a wide, smooth road. You know how riding through pine forests can be deceptive when the trees line up? As I crested a slight rise I realised the road actually veered right. That would’ve been fine except the road surface had been churned up by rally cars and was really slippery. Urk.

made a quick calculation. Where should I head? Trees…or corner?

Obviously the corner was the only option. I was going ’round or I was going down. Then a miracle: a great shaft of golden light came down from the heavens and a voice spoke to me. “Rod,” it said, with what seemed like a lot of reverb. “I have good news and bad news. Today you shall do something very, very stylish.

“The bad news is, nobody will see.” put my right foot down and laid it over, executing a graceful full-lock slide right through the corner. I was saved!

Brinkmanship

By that stage I was starting to feel I had a handle on the dirt-bike business and was ready to step up to something serious: a Suzuki PE400.

I’d intended to buy the 250, but the 400 came up, so I grabbed it.

Really, it wasn’t the right choice. At 65 kilos I was no shit brickhouse. ‘Scrawny’ was much closer. The 400 was too big.

I wasn’t even tall enough to put my foot on the ground while my bum was on the seat. Instead, I had to hook my right knee over, then ride off before I could sit properly. It didn’t matter. I had no fear, no brains and a twitchy throttle hand.

That bike had gobs of power right off idle and I decided I was gonna do enduro. At about that time I met David, who was also a dirt rider. He was much better than me though, and later picked up third in the NSW Clubman titles.

Off we went, and I was to learn how truly terrifying an enduro can be. We entered an event at Tarago, NSW. It wasn’t an especially difficult course, but around the mid-point I rode into an erosion gully. Ahead was a vertical wall 59 metres tall. With no time to think, I aimed at the wall and gunned it.

Yeehaw! Up I went, just like in the movies. The only thing was, when I got to the top, I needed to button off the throttle. ‘Hello, Rod?’ said a voice in my head,

possibly my brain. ‘Come in, Rod?’ Nup. Not listening.

I launched into a neat tippy-toe wheelie. ‘Hello, Rod. Dab the rear brake.’ ‘Rod..?’

She was about to flip so I put one foot down.

If I’d done that deliberately, I’d have said something like, “Wow, neat pirouette.”

But in this case my perfectly executed manoeuvre left me pointing back towards the epic wall. Instinct kicked in and I grabbed a fistful of brake, leaving the front wheel perched precariously at the top lip. Another half turn of that wheel would’ve sent the whole lot back down. Luckily I managed to roll it back and finish the course. Mind you, part of that involved riding with my crotch soaked by petrol after we’d failed to properly secure the fuel cap. While I liked the idea of being hot, a flaming groin was not on my to-do list.

Brakedown

Tooling around paddocks and the occasional enduro was great, but then I began to wonder what was over the horizon. It was time to get a road bike. I didn’t muck about, stepping straight onto a GPZ1100 Kawasaki. That brought a few new moments of terror before I dropped back to a GSX600F, something a bit more nimble, though somewhat less powerful. Any challenge is more difficult the

Above: Wild fun on the DT250B. Left: The young DT250 tearaway matured into the Tiger-mounted tearaway.

first time you do it, and one loomed while I was hoofing it through the twisties on the way into Mallacoota. This is a fun bit of road if you get a clear run at it. I peeled into the left hander and gunned it towards the rapidly approaching apex. The little Gixxer responded nicely and I could feel the front end pattering over the ripples as the rear squirmed.

No worries. I knew how to handle that from my dirt days.

The left opened up into short straight, giving the mistaken impression I was done with the hard stuff. Leaving my braking until the last second, I launched into the right hander, only to realise I’d misjudged it. The corner was, in fact, quite tight with a decreasing radius. And then there was a light truck, smack on the apex, forcing me to stay wide.

‘Oma b’farbly cark!’ my brain screamed. This was it. I was gonna die.

But then – another miracle. And again, it was a shaft of golden light with that soothing voice.

“Rod, haul the picks on, you stupid fker.”

Right.

I stood her up and squeezed that front brake as hard as I could. So hard, in fact, that it pinned my little finger under the brake lever.

At the last moment, I eased it off and flicked the bike in. Around we went, out the far side, just like it says in the books. I still have visions of the gravel on the edge

of the road and don’t like to think too much about where I might’ve ended up.

Good theory. Poor practice

Having dodged a Darwin award on the Suzuki, I moved back up to a CBR1000, then a Blackbird. But I still had dirt in my blood, and my mates were constantly in my ear: “Get an adventure bike, ya pussy.”

They let me ride their bikes, but they didn’t really appeal to me. What I failed to realise was how many new roads were waiting. Roads I’d ridden past on my tar babies, idly thinking, ‘I wonder what’s down there.’

Eventually I caved in and returned to my dirty roots with a DR650, and my first stop was a biggie. That’s literally – as in a big, sudden, life-threatening stop.

We headed across the desert, through Innamincka to Birdsville, and the sand dune known as Big Red. It’d taken a couple of days to get my head around negotiating deep sand again and then I realised the solution was simple.

‘Brain,’ I commanded, ‘load the dirt program.’

‘I can do this,’ I thought.

Waiting at the top of Big Red were Dave (DR650), Michael (KTM990) and Tim (GS1100) who, would you believe, was an ambo.

When it was my turn I had a clear run at the bottom so I gunned it. What a dope.

I hit the soft stuff way too fast, and that’s the last thing I remember until I came to, with Tim leaning over me and pouring water on my face. I was propped against a tree until I found my way home from Planet Rod.

Luckily, apart from that and a mildly injured wrist, I was okay. I’m told I was a bit more dopey than usual and, after a day’s rest, we continued north towards Boulia.

More to come

As my teenage testosterone fades I probably take fewer risks, though sometimes I wonder when my next terrifying moment awaits. Who knows? Ten or 20 years from now I might be forced off bikes, and that is a horrible, terrifying thought.

Still, there’s always hope, and I already have plans. I’m gonna get me a Dakarspec electric wheelchair and I’ve got sponsorship and tactics sorted for the big race. I’m gonna roost those suckers in the Toothless 500. The first leg will mean backing it into the turn across the lawn, lofting the front over the garden hose, gassing it up the pile of mulch, then hanging it sideways through the rose beds. I’ll finish it off with an effortless, one-handed wheelie while I wave to the nursing staff. Style, thy name shall be Rod. Wanna join me?

Something serious: a Suzuki PE400.

Midwest or bust 2020

The Perth Adventure Riders Facebook group hit central West Aussie on its annual ride. And in typical PAR fashion, it hit it hard.

The nine-day ride through a relatively remote outback region of Western Australia would normally have run in June, but internal border closures within WA due to COVID19 meant rescheduling. September sounded a safe bet at the time.

This was the third annual PAR event –see issues #31 and #39 for the first two –and 27 riders signed on. Pete and Andrew driving the two support vehicles with bike trailers allowed everyone to keep moving in the event of breakdowns or mishaps, and ensured the group had enough fuel, water and food. The idea was that even a flat tyre, if not able to be fixed very quickly, meant the bike was on the trailer and sorted later that night so as not to slow everything down.

The ride was well organised, well prepared, and prerequisites included bikes in top condition with new tyres and heavy-duty tubes.

Ready for anything

Dust was a major issue on the 2020 ride, and consequently everyone was regularly cleaning air filters. even wore a dust mask, which nobody blinked an eye at in today’s COVID19 world. I ran a standard airfilter with a prefilter and took three oiled prefilters in plastic bags, and I changed them every few days. Many riders used this same system of oiled filter socks and it turned out to be ideal for the conditions.

Refuels were often from jerrycans on the side of the road or from 200-litre

Main: Mount Augustus – in the background – stands 860m above the surrounding plain.

Map: Around 3000km over nine days. Epic. Below: Previous PAR rides in issues #31 and #39.

Words: Chris Shaw. Images: Chris Shaw, Andrew Johnstone, Patrick Robinson and Dirk Rastis

drums using a hand pump at cattle stations. Knowing this would be the case, I’d installed a Guglatech fuel-pump sock as a precaution.

Temperatures in the region for the first half of the week were much higher than had been anticipated at around the 40-degree mark and everyone was drinking from their hydration packs at a pretty high rate. Several regular regroups throughout the day gave riders an opportunity to replenish water from the support vehicles and take on fuel. Lead rider Mike, who did a brilliant job for the whole event, was always on the lookout for shady spots. They were few and far between, and were mostly any time we could find a dry creek bed.

Broken started

The total distance for the ride was just under 3000km, of which only a few hundred were bitumen. Individual days

Above: Dust was a major issue.

Left: The author on his AJP PR7.

Below: Temperatures in the region for the first half of the week were much higher than had been anticipated.

Right: Mark Lebkuecher on the tour’s only 1190.

were between about 350km and 430km – not including the 800km round trip from Perth to the start point at Geraldton. Most people trailered bikes to Geraldton and left the vehicles at the spacious property of PAR stalwart, Mad Merv.

From Geraldton the route went basically to Murchison Settlement on the first day, and we had our first off only a few kilometres into the sandy dirt.

It wasn’t too serious, but Dennis somehow broke the footpeg off his DRZ. He also sustained a shoulder injury, so onto the trailer went the bike. It wasn’t how Dennis wanted the ride to go, but he got to see the spring wildflowers from the passenger seat of a support vehicle. We carried on to Murchison where the accommodation was a mix of tenting and a few chalets, or dongas, as it was for the entire trip. The staff at Murchison were fabulous and had us all seated at a buffet of roast pork and dumplings that night, and then a full cooked breakfast the next morning

Rock show

Temperatures rose the next day as we headed along the 430km route to Mount Augustus.

A midway stop went a bit longer than expected when Allan’s 790 developed a major fuel-hose leak. A combination of ingenuity and luck had everyone moving again before the smallest, but certainly not slowest, bike on the ride, the WR250, lost a chain and had to take a ride on the trailer. Several bikes had problems with lower-than-expected fuel range and so the group arrived at the overnighter hot, tired and a bit later than planned.

Mount Augustus stands 860m above the surrounding plain and is the world’s largest rock. It’s approximately two-anda-half times the size of Uluru, but the vast majority of its mass is underground.

On track…mostly

The third day took us out the back of Mount Augustus Station and northward into the Pilbara region through Ashburton Downs to Cheela Plains Station.

The first 100km was like a rally road through undulating terrain with many an off-camber corner to catch a rider out. Luckily, nobody ever overshot. Well…not that many. Maybe a few.

The overnight stay at Cheela Plains Station lived up to its reputation. The

facilities were fabulous, the meals wonderful, and they looked after everyone incredibly well.

The next morning started with a refuel from a pre-ordered 200-litre drum. All riders were supplied enough fuel to make it to the mining town of Tom Price, which had fuel available, before heading along the blacktop to Karijini National Park.

Stars

Day five was spent visiting Weano, the surrounding gorges and swimming in perfect waterholes before a sit-down dinner under the stars at the Karajini Eco Resort, followed by a peaceful and much-needed night’s sleep. After breakfast the next morning everyone geared up and headed off to take a look at Joffre Gorge, make a visit to the visitor centre, and go for a swim at Fortescue Falls, before the trip back to Cheela for another fabulous outdoor meal while gazing at the stars.

Bull spit

From Cheela the crew headed back the same way it’d come to Mount Augustus in much cooler conditions, and the following day made it back to Murchison by a different route. Mike, our lead rider, had somehow broken his unbreakable DR650 on the way into Mount Augustus. Fortunately, he was able to commandeer the DRZ that had been sitting on the trailer

u

since the first day, and so carried on in the lead.

Once again Murchison Settlement put on a top spread with a sheep on the spit and enough lamb shanks for everyone. The evening was topped off with a few drinks around the campfire and a bit of bench racing and bullshit.

PLB alert

The eighth day started well but then went bad. Very bad.

Neil hit a kangaroo at speed and was seriously injured. An emergency locator beacon was activated and the satellite phone was used to arrange an evacuation. Fortunately, there was a defence training exercise happening only a few hundred kilometres away and Neil was airlifted to Geraldton using their rescue helicopter. He was stabilised and transferred to Perth by the RFDS. It was a sobering reminder of what can happen, but also underlined the importance of being as prepared as possible when in remote locations. We were also very fortunate one of our riders, Mark, was a triage nurse. Mark was outstanding and assisted during what was a stressful situation for everyone. He accompanied Neil in the chopper back to Geraldton. Mark’s bike, along with Neil’s damaged bike, went on one of the trailers. Everyone carried on to the last overnight stop at a farm stay just outside Northampton before making the final bitumen run into

and the 400km trip back to Perth.

Any bike

Each day had been an adventure, and dust, loose surfaces, high average speeds, rocks, ruts and washaways, sandy creek crossings, off-camber corners and corrugations meant no one could relax. The PR7 was just made for it, but the

bike brand and size didn’t matter because they all did the job.

It just goes to show you can have an adventure on any bike.

Above: Total distance was just under 3000km. Only a few hundred kilometres were bitumen. Below: Brian Cowie on his 690 left Roley and Peter Bayman and their Suzukis well behind.

Highlights

v Roly’s bike falling off its sidestand and the fuel cap coming off to fill his helmet with a couple of litres of fuel and instantly melt the inner liner and render it useless

v Atillio, in his determination to pass the truck that we had been following for some time, not noticing the cornerman and sailing past while the rest of us waved furiously

v Sheep on the spit under the stars at Murchison

v Swimming in the waterholes at Karijini

v Damper off the barbeque at Cheela before dinner, AND

v The daily vote on who had done something dumb enough to warrant wearing the fairy wings the following day – Frank, Neil, Rob, Drew, Peter, Julian and Brian.

Geraldton the next morning

The Forgotten Kingdom of Upper Mustang

Michael Burton and Mid Life Adventures had twice ridden the southern side of the Himalayas from the madness of Delhi to the highest motorable road in the world and across to the majestic houseboats of Srinagar. It was time to explore the northern, Nepalese side.

With the Forgotten Kingdom of Upper Mustang only opened to the public in 1991, and with a hefty entry price, the area hasn’t undergone the intense development occurring in India. Influenced by the Tibetan culture, for thousands of years the isolation has kept the culture, lifestyle and heritage uncorrupted. An interesting fact was that polyandry, a type of marriage where all the brothers of a family marry the same woman, is a common practice throughout the Upper Mustang Kingdom…that’s true brotherly love!

But the times are changing on this remotest part of the Himalayas as the Chinese are working their way down the plateau in search of minerals and building roads to open trade lines to Kathmandu and India.

Who’s in?

The call for riders with a high-level of offroad skill went out. This wasn’t going to be a gentle jaunt on big adventure bikes through u

Words and images: Michael Burton

Above: The plan was to kick off in Kathmandu, head through Pokhara, the valley of the Kali Gandaki River, cross the Annapurna mountain range to the most northern village of Upper Mustang.

Below: Not a gentle jaunt on big adventure bikes.

pretty forests. Nepal is trekking territory, the domain of gaudy Mahindra fourwheel drives of all conditions and ages, of deep valleys, rocky river crossings, dusty ascents and narrow unsealed roads with drop-offs further than could be imagined. Food and accommodation choices were limited and a hot shower might be available at the end of the day for the lucky ones.

Qualifications were submitted, ride notes and a rough route map published and T and Cs listed. On the recommendation of MLA regular Steve May the resulting document was emailed to a group of middle-aged riders known collectively by the acronym ‘MMLC’ (which possibly stands for ‘Mildura Mid Life Crises’).

The power players of the group – Mr Personality Greg Christensen and local Kenworth Dealer Glenn Leake – quickly rounded up a posse of nine. That left five spots. Perth riders Mick ‘Goldie’ Golden and Nev Kelly, veterans of MLA rides, and Joe Staudt, also with a couple of MLA adventures under his belt, jumped on board. With MLA founders Bob and I, we had a full tour.

Belly up

Mustang is largely dry and arid. In the rain shadow of the Annapurna massif and the Dhaulagiri Range annual precipitation is between 250mm and 400mm, and travelling in November we expected dry riding and mild temperatures.

The plan was to kick off in Kathmandu, head through the equally busy and entertaining tourist city of Pokhara, then ride along through the valley of the Kali Gandaki River, crossing the Annapurna mountain range to arrive at Lo Manthang, the most northern village of Upper

four days later.

The return route dropping from the plateau was equally challenging.

Arrival at a new destination is always exciting. It means a new group, new country, new culture and new cuisine.

Before any adventure I tell riders to leave their expectations and anticipation at home. If they do, they’ll never be disappointed, only enlightened.

We flew into Kathmandu, a sprawling city covering many kilometres with a maze of streets and buildings ranging from modern architecture to shanties, and dropped the baggage at the hotel.

The city square was surrounded by a maze of alleyways and main roads and included a vast array of eateries to suit every and any taste.

After a night swelling our bellies with local food and beer while being entertained by local Nepalese belly dancers, we were ready to hit the sheets for an early start.

After months of planning, the adventure was underway.

Sundowner

We were on the road with the hearts of the little 410cc Royal Enfield Himalayans beating in unison as riders jockeyed for position among heaving, diesel-belching Mahindras. We weren’t even 20km from base when we were stopped at a military road block while a roadside car bomb was detonated.

That made an interesting start to the day.

The day became even more interesting about three kilometres from Pokhara

where I learned how the local roadaccident system worked.

Traffic was particularly heavy, and when I saw a break along the off side of a lorry I gunned the Himalayan approaching a T-intersection and veered to the left.

‘Oh shit,’ I thought as a local with a pillion on a step-through appeared from nowhere crossing in front of the truck.

‘This is going to hurt.’

The rider’s eyes were bulging as 21 inches of Himalayan front wheel T-boned the Chinese bike, sending rider and passenger to the dirt.

Local plods were on the scene in a split second and confiscated my key until it was agreed, after heated discussion, our Nepalese sweep rider would transport the injured rider with a suspected broken wrist to the local hospital.

Thankfully there was no damage to me or the RE, but the ‘offender’s’ Chinese step-through was totalled and had a significantly V-shaped midsection.

When we finally arrived at Pokhara’s White Pearl Hotel we were black-faced from dust and had inhaled litres of

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Jacket available in Red Ochre or Navy Model is 6ft tall wearing a size M over armor, and size 32 pant

Mustang,

Above left: Author Mike Burton. Above Right: A full tour. Right: A T-boned step-through.

diesel soot, but found everything peaceful. Pizzas and beer eased thirst and hunger as the sun went down against the tranquil backdrop of Phewa Lake.

Taxi!

Leaving Pokhara marked the transition from bitumen to dirt. The traffic was no less but was less of a problem, and we quickly threw caution to the wind and gracefully slalomed between billowing and groaning four-wheeled obstacles. Only the occasional squeal of dusty brake drums nearby distracted our attention

from an otherwise pleasant ride.

It was Wakey’s turn to open his wallet and cough up for damage to a taxi which had impeded his narrow path between it and a local bus.

After a brief stop at Kushma for a leg stretch and some photos of the local village folk we were back on the bikes for the off-road stretch to our overnighter at Kalopani. ‘Kalopani’ literally means ‘black water’ in Nepali, and it’s from there the relatively calm Kali Gandaki River narrows down, changes colour and roars south with its much-revered rapids.

All clear

A magnificent sunrise over Annapurna 1 Mountain greeted us the next morning. We were at the start to the trekker’s circuit and soon understood why the breakfast was so big. Those trekkers are a breed of their own. Most looked unkempt and undernourished and carried oversized backpacks and hiking poles and spoke a language only understood by members of the species.

It wasn’t long and the Mahindras were gone. The rock-based road had narrowed and we ascended 500 metres in thick bulldust which tested Don – who was new to off-road riding – and Harro with his already suspect shoulder. The smell of clutchplates and overheated engines was noticeable through the dust and the stop at the stunning, stone-paved village of Marpha, known for its apple products, was welcomed. What was also welcomed was the absence of the leprosy for which Marpha was known. The disease was long gone, believed to have been eradicated by the power of religious rituals at a specially built Buddhist shrine.

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XTZ700

Above: Mustang is largely dry and arid. Left: Hillside traffic.

Right: On the roller coaster of unmade rocky roads rising from dry riverbeds to 4000 metres.

Lost and found

By noon we’d entered Kagbeni, the gateway to the Upper Mustang District.

It was clear from the well-maintained Buddhist school opposite the village that the monks were revered and financially well supported. It was also clear the Royal Enfields were in pain. Clutches were overheating, oil leaks had appeared and the bikes had started misfiring due to either crap fuel, altitude or both. And it wasn’t even lunchtime.

The day was getting on, and while there was only 100km to be travelled, 100km in that terrain was like 400km on open plains. Cracks started to appear in the cornerman system and soon Christo bleated, “Anyone seen Plineo since he took off at the last stop?”

“Last I saw he was headed towards Tibet like a madman,” said Charcoal. But we were hungry, and a lunch of chicken curry, rice, cucumber, chilli, veges and lentil soup took priority before the search party got on the job.

It wasn’t really a ‘search party’ as search parties go.

I took point and headed north as the sun sunk lower. The group followed, hoping to find Plineo waiting further down the track.

Night fell, and in the pitch black, with no idea what was on either side of the relentless rocky road, I was glad to finally pull into what I thought was the overnight stay at Ghami, followed closely by Joe. There’d been no sign of Plineo, and according to a local who pointed to the

north we weren’t actually at Ghami either. Eventually the lost soldier was found on the side of the road, mixing it with some locals, and the group arrived intact at Ghami.

Thank God. MLA has never lost a rider, and Plineo’s barrister bride would surely have been looking for answers.

Hamstrung

A late start so the backup lads could replace some clutch plates allowed time for a village recon and for Glenn to purchase, at great expense, a 1000-yearold piece of Nepalese history. Hmm?

The sun was up, the temperature hovered around six degrees and we headed for Lo Manthang, 30km north and about 20km from the Tibet/China border. The scenery was mindblowing. How people up there survived for centuries defied logic.

We were now well on the roller coaster of unmade rocky roads rising from dry riverbeds to 4000 metres. Again the Himalayans were spluttering, and one stopped dead in its tracks. But not for long. Plineo and 2IC Glenn traced the fault to a wiring short and soon had it ticking over happily again.

The highlight of the day was the 30km round trip to the ancient Choser caves.

A deserted labyrinth of connecting tunnels and rooms is what remains of

the excavation the monks had inhabited for 800 years, and it’s still a mystery why the man-made caves were created, especially as some are so high up. There have been many attempts by westerners to explore the caves, but the Lo people guard them fiercely. Fortunately for us – or I should say ‘us less one’ – we had access, being there late in the afternoon. Unfortunately, didn’t get to see the caves because I was nursing what turned out to be a grade-two hamstring tear, the result of an off in the bulldust. Nev’s endless supply of Tramadol from his on-board pharmacy was the saviour to get me back on the bike for the return journey.

New friend

After a minus-eight-degree night and a village discovery walk through the old city and the king’s palace we headed south towards Samar and had reached our goal – the top of Upper Mustang.

Stopping at one of the many temples for a photo, Joe got his drone in the air okay, but it took a chunk of finger when he caught it to avoid a crash landing in the bulldust on the unscheduled descent.

The ‘tough stuff’ came after a lunch of two-minute noodles. Among the steep downhills was one in deep bulldust which dropped sharply into a water crossing. The descent wasn’t easy as the rocky trail was covered by 300mm of thick dust and the dropoff was at least a kilometre with hardly a blade of grass to cushion the slide. Harro, back on the bike for a leg, bailed rather than spear over the edge to a certain death, landing with a yelp on an aching shoulder.

The crossing and ascent which followed was tough, and many of the bikes gasped for horsepower and additional clutchplates.

Once across and up the other side it was a magnificent ride around the mountains overlooking the vast valley below and local villagers on their way to somewhere offered the occasional greeting. We had to stop to introduce ourselves to one poor, elderly woman who appeared to be alone living in a threemetre-by-three-metre unroofed shack. Christo and Chris’s excitement at getting up close and personal was clearly visible and continued as she laughed and waved goodbye to her new, possibly only, friends as they headed southward.

Room to move

Everyone was now quite comfortable on the Himalayans and had learned how to handle the lack of horsepower and use the loads of torque instead.

We arrived at Samar’s poplar grove at around 2.30pm, a perfect time to get into a mid-arvo session and, for some, a dip in the icy stream flowing past our hotel.

Well…not everybody’s hotel. Rooms were limited, so the balance were sent 200 metres down the track to what I believe was a more upmarket abode. Two-star is better than one-star, right? And the vegie pasties were definitely better than the same-same rice and lentil soup.

With all the wood stored for winter on the roofs of the village buildings, there was ample to spare for a small bonfire and a tad more very cold ale to finish off a fantastic day.

Soaking in it

We are all set to head off to Tatopani the next morning. The reduced backup crew were over clutches, but it appeared

Left: The crossing and ascent which followed was tough. Above: A magnificent ride around the mountains overlooking the vast valley below.

Right: Kushma Gyadi suspension bridge. Below: How people survived up there defied logic.

they were over any bike maintenance, including early-morning checks of the REs, and a flat tyre started the day.

We travelled back to the snotty, dusty hill which caused far less pain for the Himalayans as a descent than it had as a climb. A quick stop at Kagbeni for a pre-lunch snack of yak burger was followed by a squirt to Kalopani for the real preordered lunch. Sitting back and again observing the excited virgin trekkers, I really didn’t understand the attraction of walking with ski poles in dusty, rocky, desolate and incredibly windy regions like Mustang. I’m sure by the forlorn, unhappy look on some of returning hikers they are wondering the same.

“Where’s Joe?” someone muttered.

“Gone back to look for his wallet,” said Charcoal. “It fell out of his bag on the rack.” Wallet gone. Cards gone. Licence gone. A pale-faced Joe returned to the fold after a fruitless 30km search. Bob came to the rescue with a line of credit sufficient to carry Joe for the remainder of the adventure. With everyone a little upset for Joe, who was quite distressed at his losses, we remounted and continued on for the hot spa at Tatopani, where one bath was reserved for the ladies and the other for men.

Arriving after the gates to the spa had closed wasn’t really a problem when they opened at 7.00am, and it seemed to us a great way to start the day. It appeared the locals had the same idea.

Safe option

After another delayed start the next morning due to a misplaced key we were eventually on our way…until the crew

stopped to help dislodge an overexuberant Mahindra from the side of a truck blocking a tight corner.

The Royal Enfields were happy again. Altitude had been reduced, roads had improved, there was no dust and we were back in civilisation, stopping at Nepal’s, and possibly the world’s, highest and longest suspension bridge. From there we barrelled on to The White Pearl Hotel in Pokhara to prepare for the flight back to Kathmandu. We figured flying was a better option than enduring the chaotic traffic and the chance of an incident on the last lap. One roadside bomb detonation and a T-bone was enough for any adventure ride.

Trip of a lifetime

It was recovery time and what better way to do that than a trip to Everest base camp in a chopper and two days touring the Kathmandu attractions? The most notable POI was a cremation site after hitching a ride with a local family in the back of their pickup normally reserved for produce and livestock. Compact, 800cc microcabs don’t cope well with three burley Aussie passengers!

We had ridden where few adventure riders had ridden before, and as the Chinese push south, future riders are unlikely to experience the forgotten Kingdom of Upper Mustang as we had. Ringed by impossible mountains and largely ignored by the Nepalese state, the Loba people of Upper Mustang were left to their clay houses, ancient religious beliefs and quiet way of life.

During the course of our adventure across Mustang and Upper Mustang we

Above left: The smell of clutchplates and overheated engines was noticeable through the dust. Above right: Everyone became comfortable on the Himalayans and learned how to use the loads of torque.

were welcomed wherever we stopped by the Nepalese people who were helpful and friendly. It never fails to amaze me as I travel through these remote countries just how excited some of the locals are at having a group of helmeted unknowns on motorcycles stop or pass through their villages.

Unlike the Indian side of the Himalayas, the Nepalese are gentle, polite and proud, not only of their country, but more importantly of themselves.

We departed Nepal, a land of spectacular geography, with fantastic lifetime memories of a very special adventure.

Mid Life Adventures

Mid Life Adventures offers likeminded ‘explorers’ who are not into racing point-to-point the opportunity to tick items off their own bucket lists. The goal is to provide unique life, culture, gastronomic and ride experiences, and it’s about the journey, not the destination.

MLA is not a commercial tour operator, it’s a facilitator of custom adventures supported by offshore affiliates who supply accommodation, machinery, nourishment and support to give unique experiences at an affordable price. See more at midlifeadventures.com.au and on Facebook.

Great mates. Great riding. Cold beers

After a huge crossing from Steep Point to Byron Bay in issue #39, Bones Dunn and his tight-knit crew lined up for another shared adventure.

There are two things guaranteed when we get together: regardless of who you are you’ll have the piss taken out of you at what can only describe as a professional level, and we will consume more than the daily recommendation of grog. We all know this and always laugh at ourselves and each other.

I rolled into Rush Rush’s place at about 4.30pm to find Rush Rush, The KTM Kid and Bumble chatting away. The Kid straight away started taking the mickey out of my Honda. There was another lad, Biscuit, who was

new to the group and to adventure riding. His brand-spanker 790 fit nicely in the middle of the weekend’s line up. There was my Africa Twin, The Kid’s 1190R, Bumble’s 701 and Rush Rush’s 800GSA. We settled in for a barbeque and a few schooners.

Hump day

Pat rolled in on his new-to-him DR650 on Friday morning and we set off at around 8.00am, heading north on the highway out of Newcastle and taking Branch Lane to end up on Jarrah Road. We zigzagged our way through the forest towards Bulahdelah, bypassed the town and turned towards Bunyah, then covered dirt all the way to Krambach.

I rounded a corner in the morning mist to find Bumble and Pat off their bikes talking beside two erosion humps that looked like they’d been designed to kick a bike out from under the rider. The boys had been caught out at about 70kph. No one went down, but apparently the acrobatics were impressive. There was no harm done, just a bit of a twinge to Pat’s wrist, and he felt his upgraded suspension had probably saved his bacon.

A great start

From Krambach we cruised beautiful dirt roads and along Nowendoc Road until about 30 minutes from Walcha I pulled over and waited for The KTM Kid. He’d stopped to grab a few pics, and I sat for long enough to know there had to be something wrong. I turned around and started to backtrack and my anxiety grew with every turn of the wheel. I heaved a sigh of relief when I eventually found him fitting a new rear tube – the best outcome I could’ve hoped for.

I helped where I could and, once the tube was in and his little compressor pumping, I of course went for the camera.

“You’re a jerk, Bones!” he grumbled as

I asked him to smile.

We were soon on our way and, having met Rush Rush looking for us, our trio rolled into Walcha where the boys had food and a cold beer waiting. After lunch we were all in good spirits and headed towards Bendemeer along Bendemeer Station Road, stopping to soak up the beautiful scenery and lush green paddocks. We then headed north and finally followed Danehurst Road through Balala and down to Uralla for the night.

Biscuit assured us all his first adventureriding day had been bloody fantastic.

The sting

Our goal for Saturday was Glen Innes and the Old Grafton Road.

We rolled up to an Armidale café and Bumble announced he’d been stung by a bee. He was allergic and, not feeling well and finding the chemist closed, headed for the hospital.

Words and images: Greg ‘Bones’ Dunn u

Left: “You’re a jerk, Bones!” Above: Around 1700km of fun and great riding. Below: The convict tunnel on the Old Grafton Road.

Just as breakfast was completed we were told Bumble was being kept in hospital for monitoring. The Kid volunteered to run Bumble’s bike to the hospital parking lot, and this meant a pillion ride back on Rush Rush’s BMW. As they returned, I was of course ready with the camera.

“You’re a jerk, Bones!” The Kid yelled as they pulled up.

Together again

From Armidale we rolled towards Thalgarrah and found Rockvale Road. We crossed Guyra Road, blasted through Wards Mistake and on to the beautiful, great-fun Kookabookra Road. It’s roads like those that keep us expanding our horizons and looking for new and amazing places to ride.

We picked up Pinkett Road to Bald Knob and the highway before taking the turnoff onto the Old Grafton Road.

The start of this road is tight, twisty tar which would suit a 450 motard. It opens up to a mix of smooth farm roads before running alongside the Boyd River and through the convict tunnel. This was Rush Rush’s fourth attempt at the road, and although he was a bit disappointed with the tunnel, he loved the ride.

We followed the road to Grafton and got fuel and a quick servo pie. Having lost a bit of time with Bumble in the morning it was decided to jump on the highway to Kempsey as we were booked in at Bellbrook for the night. So, 190km later, we topped up at Kempsey and followed the road out to Bellbrook, arriving just on sundown to find Bumble sitting on the

front veranda of the pub drinking with a mate of mine. After being released from hospital Bumble had ridden the ArmidaleKempsey road along the Macleay river, which he said was great fun, if a little tight, and settled in to wait for us.

We all showered and had a few too many ales and a top feed. It was a great night and the people at Bellbrook really looked after us.

Damper

Sunday was, as always, an early start.

We’d started packing bikes when The KTM Kid exclaimed his back tyre was flat. He pumped it up and it seemed to hold air, so we rolled west for Armidale.

The road was quite tight and narrow and there wasn’t much fanfare to the riding. Pat on the DR was following in my dust, so I waved him through and he quickly disappeared up the road. I stopped at a big switchback to see how the boys behind were getting on, only to realise there were no boys behind. I kept moving and found Pat waiting near an old building. I pointed out there was no one following, and said I assumed The Kid’s tyre had gone flat again.

“Flats don’t generally fix themselves,” was Pat’s reply.

We’d been riding in light rain for a while and it started to get heavier, so we took shelter under the old roof for about 20 minutes until we heard the unmistakable sound of a 701 being taken for most of its worth. Bumble pulled up and confirmed our flat-tyre theory and said the others shouldn’t be far behind.

After a regroup we pushed on to

Left: Biscuit was new to the group and to adventure riding.

Below: Stopping to soak up the beautiful scenery and lush green paddocks.

Right: Biscuit assured us all his first adventure-riding day had been bloody fantastic.

Armidale for fuel and headed down through Gostwyck and took Hillview Road to Salisbury Plains. I waited, cornerman style, at the turn for Hillview Road until The Kid and Biscuit showed up. Biscuit said he’d stopped to put on his waterproof layer then had tried to make up time. After a huge moment which ended up off the road he was a bit rattled, so I followed along behind.

We hit Walcha for lunch having ridden through enough rain to keep the dust down, but not really get us wet, so that was a win.

Team sport

After another Walcha Chinese lunch we took Scrubby Gully Road, then Niangala Road, and ended up on Thunderbolts Way for a short stint before turning onto Topdale Road and taking Forest Way down to Nundle for our final night together. The riding up that way was all amazing and there were a lot of smiles.

As we stopped to regroup at the start of Forest Way someone pointed out the front tyre on the DR was proper shot.

“Take it easy down here in the wet, mate,” said Rush Rush.

Biscuit wasn’t feeling too confident, so we tackled Forest Way together and arrived at Nundle dry and in good spirits.

With the rooms paid for we showered and settled in to watch my team play Bumble’s team. I should’ve sat that one out as my team got smashed, but once again we had a top night with a few ales and a great feed.

It was decided to get a better tyre on the front of the DR, and everyone agreed to head over to Gundy to grab a tyre from The Kid’s used pile to get the DR home.

Nothing needed

After brekky Sunday morning we headed for Crawney Pass and Timor, then The KTM Kid’s mansion. That meant more great riding for the morning. Personally, I stood around and had a beer while Pat and The Kid changed and balanced the tyre.

The Kid made sure he got photos of Pat changing the tyre. What a jerk!

Then it was goodbyes as Bumble headed north toward home and Biscuit made the long journey back to his place.

There we parted ways as Rush Rush headed for Lambs Valley and Pat and I jumped on the Hunter expressway and headed home.

All up it was about 1700km for me and I loved it.

Bumble enjoyed his first trip away on his 701 and Biscuit reckoned he’d be back. And, as usual, the rest of us took every opportunity to rag on each other and laughed the whole time. There were rocks flung and mud splashed, but no one went down and there were no problems. Two flat tyres were fixed, the DR had a quick tyre change, and we were home free. Great mates. Great riding. Cold beers. What more do we need?

Rush Rush, Pat and I headed into Scone, fuelled up, and went for the road past Rouchel Brook and down into Singo.

Destination Yamaha Motor Ténéré

ADV Weekend

The weather was perfect and the terrain sensational. Batemans Bay and the south coast of NSW turned it on for a happy bunch of Ténéré owners.

Sunshine flooded the forecourt of the Batemans Bay rendezvous as the riders threw their clobber into the support-vehicle trailer. With Detour’s Lyndon Heffernan and his son Jack leading the group on a Ténéré-specific ride through their own home territory, expectations were high. No one was disappointed.

Deal

The weekend was billed as a Ténéré event and it was no surprise the field was made up of predominantly 700s. Destination Yamaha Motor’s kingpin Martien Van Der Horst had blown everyone away with his immaculately presented 700, but the two ring ins – Dave Morey on a Super Ténéré and a Safari-tanked WR250R – were just as enthusiastically included.

The WR250 ‘Ténéré’ was the interesting one. Adventure Rider Magazine’s editor had been promised a Ténéré 700 and, sure enough, when the Yamaha van doors were thrown open there was a 700 with TF’s

initials on it. Sweep rider Jack Heffernan, probably six-foot-two of bone and muscle, was handed the WR. As he stood there wondering if he should wear the little trailbike on his charm bracelet, or perhaps as a belt buckle, the editor sidled over. There was some murmured conversation, a few gestures implying confidentiality, and a handshake. Jack happily made his way to the 700 and TF, just as happily, sprung on to the 250, pressed the starter and sighed with contentment as the little motor quietly settled to idle and prepared to once again punch way above its weight.

With COVID19 restrictions the group was limited to 12, and it was a full house that set out for what turned out to be an excellent weekend.

Too good to be true

After stowing the supplied Yamaha goodie bags and a very short section of tar to clear the coastal town, the Ténérés hit the dirt and the fun began. Blasting along superbly maintained dirt roads,

Bottom far left: A top crew! From left: Detour’s Lyndon Heffernan, Dave Morey, YMA’s Geez Goldhawk, Detour’s Jack Heffernan, Peter Smart, Destination Yamaha Motor’s Martien Van Der Horst, Chris Burge, Craige ‘Macca’ McInnes, Dave Wouters and Darren Peck.

Bottom left: Young Blake sized up the Ténéré 700 at the Braidwood lunchbreak. It didn’t look like dad would take much convincing. In the background is Steve Owen, Ace-Number-One supportvehicle driver for Detour Trail Bike Tours. Below: Creek crossings and causeways were plentiful, each one more gorgeous than the one before.

across causeways where the clear water glistened in the sunlight, and around hillsides where emerald-green valleys basked under clear blue skies, the Yamahas roosted, slid, splashed and generally rejoiced in a setting that seemed far too perfect to be a reality.

Beautiful.

Challenge

Naturally, it couldn’t all be glorious, feetup roosting. That’s not the way adventure riding works.

The Heffos had planned a few ‘challenge’ sections for the weekend, and the first wasn’t quite single track, but it was winding, swooped up and down some gentle hills and had some bastard rocks on it. You know those big, triangular buggers? The ones that instantly flick the ’bars to full lock and catapult an unwary rider into a faceplant of dust and embarrassment?

Below: Charred Ghost Gums reminded everyone of the fires earlier in the year. The contrasting green of the new growth was a pointer to a bright future for the region.

Top right: Some very tired and happy riders at Narooma’s Australia Rock.

Bottom right: Adventure Rider Magazine’s editor was fairly smitten with the WR250R.

Heffo Senior assured the riders the section was ‘fairly open’ and had been ‘freshly graded’, but there was one small hill that took its toll, and doubts were raised about the likelihood of any grader having been up there.

Still, it was handled with good humour, and despite some obvious fatigue by the time all the bikes were at the top, the riders were clearly enjoying the experience immensely.

The run back to the main trail, where Heffo Senior was waiting with Dave M and the Super T – who’d wisely elected to bypass the challenge section –was a spirited blast with the fire-blackened Ghost Gums close to both sides of the trail.

It was frigging awesome fun.

Keep on keeping on

Once clear of the first challenge section the day proceeded with more high-speed, loamy dirt road,

lashings of sensational scenery, and another challenge section which Heffo assured everyone was also ‘freshly graded’. This time the riders were ready and fanged through with hardly a check…except maybe a couple of little lay downs on a rocky descent to a creek bed. Nothing serious.

Lunch was a leisurely stop at Braidwood where the bakery and various cafes offered menus to match the quality of the ride, and in a town which seemed to be overflowing with bikes of all kinds on the day, the line of Ténérés at the park in the centre of town sparked plenty of interest. That was great because it meant the riders were able to spend the break telling people they’d never met how good their bikes were.

Seriously. Does it get much better than that?

From lunch the great riding continued, making its way over the

little-known Platypus Crossing, until everyone gathered at Australia Rock on the waterfront at Narooma. The evening light was sensational and the riders were greeted by several large seals sunning themselves on the rock wall of the harbour. The editor thought it would make a good pic if he climbed down onto the rocks and had the seals in the background. He didn’t see the big-mutha walrus in the gap next to the rock he was standing on and nearly soiled his flash new Dririder suit when it reared up and grunted at him unexpectedly.

If he could ride rocks as fast as he ran across them on that occasion he could be a world trials champion.

After a very long and satisfying day everyone hit the motel showers before adjourning to the Narooma golfie for dinner – except for Martien, who brought credit cards but no driver’s licence, and the lady at the door refused him entry until he returned to the motel and grabbed the necessary documentation. He was paying for dinner, so it was important he was allowed in.

More of the same

Sunday morning began with another glorious dawn and breakfast at the Narooma surfie. It seemed Destination Yamaha Motor had covered every detail, even down to a whale breaching several times in front of the breakfasting riders before they mounted up and headed off for another day of fantastic terrain.

There were plenty of shallow water crossings, a few gnarly bits, and lots more fantastic scenery before the ride hit

u

TRIUMPH

Moruya for lunch, then soon after, at a fork in the dirt road, riders had a choice.

The Heffernans are working on a training centre for the Off Road Riding Academy and invited everyone along to have a look. Those who’d had enough could continue along the dirt road to Batemans Bay and the motel. Those who wanted to see some formwork and stringlines could stick with Lyndon and go the other way.

No one was keen to stop riding, so the whole shebang made its way out to the 360-acre patch of farmland where there was some serious construction going on. From there the crew wound its weary way back to Batemans Bay. Most collected gear from the support vehicle in readiness for the ride home, a couple had booked to stay overnight, and Geez from

Yamaha set about loading the bikes into Yamaha’s van. It wasn’t as easy as on the way down because, somewhere across the two days – maybe on both days – the ’bars on the 250R had been bent out of shape. On both sides. A set of moose antlers would’ve been straighter. Hmm.

It’d been an absolutely premium experience, no doubt about that. The route and terrain were perfect for the bikes, the pace was a bit feisty when riders wanted to cut loose and a bit sedate when they felt like sightseeing, accommodation and catering were great and, overall, the whole ride, start to finish, was a raging success.

Destination Yamaha Motor will be one to watch as more rides are slotted into the upcoming calendar.

Martien Van Der Horst

A Dutchman by birth but a long-time Aussie resident, Martien Van Der Horst’s official title is ‘Customer Experience And Travel Manager’ for Yamaha Australia And New Zealand, and the mad-keen motorcyclist has an interesting job. He now pilots the Destination Yamaha Motor project in Australia and has done since it kicked off a year ago.

Destination Yamaha isn’t a new idea, but the way it’s done in Australia is a little different to other countries.

“I’m still not sure whether it was the US or Europe that started Destination Yamaha Motor,” said Martien, reaching back through his memory, “but Europe really saw it as more like ‘customer engagement’. So the idea was to connect customers with Yamaha experiences in any area…whether it was WaveRunners, golf buggies, motorcycles or whatever. Yamaha has a whole selection of suppliers who offer unique experiences that would get anybody excited. It might be a motorcycle ride through Italy or a cruiser bike along Route 66 – a Yamaha cruiser of course, hopefully, – or any one of dozens of different bucket-list items around the world.

“But in Europe and the US, Yamaha is more a facilitator. Luckily for me, Brad

Ryan here at Yamaha Motor Australia thought we could do more with the idea and could own it more.”

That meant Martien needed to get personally involved, a concept he embraced wholeheartedly. It was a great opportunity to combine his very extensive international travelmanagement experience with his love

of ‘anything with an engine’, and his expertise is put to good use ensuring Yamaha Destination Motor events are all they should be.

“A lot of operators are maybe great motorcyclists or fishing guides, but don’t have the knowledge of how to present themselves or package a good trip,” explained Martien. “Destination Yamaha

Motor sits down and helps them.”

2020 was a tough year to kick off, though. Fortunately, a career spanning several decades dealing with all kinds of huge travel and tourism problems is holding Martien in good stead.

“We’ve had to adapt,” he said. “Luckily it’s not my first experience with a major catastrophe effecting tourism.

“But there’s a good time coming for Australia’s local travel industries. The borders should be open reasonably soon, and we have all these people who want major adventures.”

Although there’s rides and adventure packages all around Australia and New Zealand, NSW is the lucky state.

“We’re based in NSW, so we have a lot of trips, both road and off-road, that we do already here, and they’ve been very successful. They’ve always been sold out,” said the Ténéré fan happily.

And the rides aren’t restricted to Yamaha owners.

“We all love our bikes,” he said, “and we love Yamaha, but I don’t care if you come on some other brand. It’s more to get people together. The idea is for people to enjoy themselves and see how we do it.”

The intention is to increase the Destination Yamaha Motor rides and events all around the country – and NZ, of course – as travel restrictions ease. So log on to Yamaha-motor.com.au and click on the ‘Discover’ tab.

You’ll thank us if you end up on a ride as good as the one we enjoyed from Batemans Bay.

Above: There were plenty of causeways and creek crossings. Dave Morey on the sole Super T made it look easy.

KTM 1290 Super Adventure R

As far as big-capacity flagships go, KTM’s 1290 Super Adventure R is the USS Enterprise of the adventure-bike world. It’s ready to attack, but needs a firm hand at the helm.

Having had such an insanely good time on the 390 Adventure last issue, climbing on the 1290 Super Adventure R was a jab in the ribs from reality. This bike clearly isn’t intended for shabby bike journos with very limited riding ability to go clowning around on. It’s tall, and the 217kg dry weight straight away lets the rider know it’s a serious proposition.

Sitting there with our tippy toes just touching the ground, the bike teetering slightly from side-to-side and the 1301cc V-twin grumbling away beneath us, we could only tighten the sphincter and think, ‘Ye gods!’

The facts

The bike feels fairly compact considering it’s packing a 1.3-litre, 75-degree, liquidcooled V-twin. The 23-litre tank is designed in such a way it feels like it should hold only half that amount, and the ’bars have a really nice, tight width and bend. A seat height of 890mm means short riders will have to accept a few challenges with the 1290 Super Adventure R, but the range of rider modes and electronic aids is exceptional. Four modes – Sport, Street, Rain and Offroad – line up with cornering ABS, lean-angle-sensitive traction control, a full-colour TFT screen, auto-cancelling blinkers, cruise control and the KTM My Ride system to connect to the rider’s phone. The bike also has keyless ignition, and that included the petrol cap

A hydraulic slipper clutch routes the power through a six-speed box and X-ring chain and the WP suspension is adjustable both ends. Tubeless tyres and Brembos front and rear round out the package.

Dial it in

As we said at the start, the foolish grins we were wearing after riding the 390 quickly vanished when we clambered up onto the 1290 and hit the ignition button. The screen lit up and went through its start-up cycle, then reminded

A press of the thumb had the motor lumping away quietly and we rolled out on to the bitumen where, there can be no argument, the 1290 is fantastic. It’s supremely comfortable, the motor has just the right amount of gentle vibration to give the feeling of character without causing any numbness or fatigue, and, naturally enough, freeway speeds felt as though the bike was pretty much having a bit of a rest in case it was asked to do something which might require some effort.

The motor was interesting in that respect. KTM didn’t supply a power-

Images: Wilkinson Photography

unlocking whenever the fob was in range.

Main: The panniers stick out a long way but are likely to be well-suited to the needs of the type of rider who’ll buy this bike. Below left: Both TFT screen and menu are easy to navigate and use.

it didn’t give the impression of being a monster. In fact, we were a little surprised at just how manageable the power output seemed to be. There’s oodles of grunt, no doubt about that, but we were never once as terrified as we have been on some of the other big-bore adventurers we’ve ridden of late. We’ve learned to keep an open mind when we start playing with modes because the different manufacturers seem to put different interpretations on things like ‘off-road’ and ‘rain’, but we’ve never ridden a bike where the mode made such a big difference to the feel of the whole bike the way it does on the 1290. In Offroad it honestly felt a little sluggish and gave the impression we were waiting for it to respond to control inputs. Not just throttle input. It even seemed slow to turn. When we flicked it over to Sport it was very suddenly ‘OhMyGoodnessHere’sWhatWe’veBeen LookingFor!’ as the thing rocketed from one point to the next and put its traction control to maximum use. The curious thing was – and we admit this is a bit fanciful – it felt as though the bike

handled and cornered better in Sport as well, and we’re talking about in off-road situations. It just seemed like the whole bike came to life and the motor was helping wrangle the bike through turns and over rough terrain.

We don’t have anything more rational to add, and we accept any scoffing aimed at us. We can only tell you how it felt.

We didn’t ride the bike in the rain, and with Sport being so lively we didn’t spend any time in Street. Each mode was clearly different from the others, and that was refreshing.

One thing it took us a little while to wake up to was the ABS and traction control being independent of the modes. We thought if we selected, say, Offroad, we’d automatically get the ABS switched off at the rear. But that’s not the case. ABS and traction control remain as selected, irrespective of mode. A rider has to make those changes separately.

We got to quite like that.

Spin doctor

The electronic systems throughout the bike were excellent

and all did their jobs well, but we were especially rapt in the traction control.

Called ‘MTC’ – motorcycle traction control – on the menu, the lean-anglesensitive set up was astonishingly good.

It allowed the rear wheel to spin up a little, but when it did intervene it was so seamless it was sometimes hard to tell.

Photographer Wilko tipped us off to trying an offroad run with the MTC on, and from there we left it on for our entire time with the bike. We would’ve turned it off for sand, but the only time we had to deal with sand we were through before we’d realised what was going on.

The ABS was excellent as well, and we have to tip our hats to KTM for not offering 50 million possibilities on the menu. ABS had Road, Off-road and Off. Traction control offered On or Off.

We really like not being overwhelmed by choice, especially when each of the settings worked so well.

Firm but fair

KTM has established a reputation for great stock suspension and the WP forks and shock on the 1290 are, as expected, really first class.

The 48mm upside-downers on the front have the left/right compression/rebound clickers on top of the fork legs. We’re seeing this arrangement more and more often these days, and we like it. It’s so much better than grovelling around in the mud and crud with a tiny screwdriver, trying to not drop a rubber grommet, while counting clicks on the bottom of a fork leg.

The WP shock is a PDS set up, meaning there’s no linkage, and it too is fully adjustable, but with a hydraulic preload adjuster.

Left: Flat stick from one coast to the other? The 1290 Super Adventure R would be a good choice.

Top right: Great comfort matched with high-end performance.

Right: For those not used to the new technology, the bar code on the plastic card tells the locksmith how to set the CNC machine to cut the key. It’s not a job for Mr Minit. At $60 a shot it’s best not lose too many keys.

Middle right: The best oil-level glass we’ve seen on a bike.

Far right: Adjusting the rear preload is a snap. Just get a firm grip on that big, black knob and go for it.

No tools needed. u

Shock preload is the adjustment most riders should be making most often, so being able to change that without tools is a great asset. Both front and rear are very firm. When we went to fool around with the compression on the forks we were impressed to find a sticker inside the front-left radiator shroud which showed recommended settings for Comfort, Standard, Sport and Maximum Payload for both front and rear. Brilliant! That should be a huge help for owners trying the tuning themselves.

The action at both ends of the bike was ideal for pushing the big bike hard. That was when both front and rear showed how good they were. Unfortunately, we weren’t good enough riders to really work a bike like this one to its limit, but when we tried, and we found what was on offer, it was clear KTM and WP had the job well covered. At lower speeds and without luggage the stock settings were a little more performance than comfort focussed, but still worked well.

Relax

Where we found the 1290 at its best was any time it was allowed to stretch out a bit.

Loping along open sections, getting sassy on sweeping gravel turns or whooping along gnarly dirt roads at a good pace were too damn easy and very enjoyable. We had one unfortunate session where we rolled onto the Pacific Motorway, set the cruise control on 110kph and plumped along for just over two hours. The only change we made during that time was to select blinkers as we swapped lanes, and the bike consumed the distance like it was a pushbike ride to the corner shop. If we’d had a different helmet with a comms rig we could’ve paired up to the My Ride function and spent a very pleasant

Right: Very much at home on open dirt roads. The praying-mantis lighting arrangement is excellent. Below: Keyless ignition includes fuel access. If the fob isn’t nearby the fuel cap stays locked. u

Recommended ride-away price: $29,995. Web: www.ktm.com/en-au.html

Engine type: Two-cylinder, eight-valve, liquid-cooled, DOHC, four-stroke, 75-degree V-twin

Displacement: 1301cc

Bore x stroke: 108mm x 71mm

Starter: Electric; 12V, 11.2Ah

Engine management: Keihin EMS with ride-by-wire and cruise control, double ignition

Traction control (disengageable): MTC (lean-angle sensitive, fourmode)

Clutch: PASC slipper clutch, hydraulically operated

Gearbox: Six-speed

Final drive: 17:42/X-ring chain

Frame: Chromium-molybdenum-steel trellis, powder coated

Subframe: Aluminium, powder coated

Handlebar: Aluminium, tapered Ø28mm/22mm

Wheels front/rear: Spoked wheels with aluminium tubeless rims 2.50 x 21”/4.50 x 18”

Tyres front/rear: 90/90-21”; 150/70 x 18”

Front suspension/adjustability: WP APEX Ø43mm, adjustable compression and rebound

Rear suspension/adjustability: WP XPLOR PDS/compression, rebound, hydraulic preload

Suspension travel front/rear: 220mm/220mm

Front brake: Two Brembo four-piston, radially mounted calipers with Ø320mm discs

Rear brake: Brembo two-piston, fixed caliper with Ø267mm disc

ABS (disengageable): Bosch 9ME combined-ABS (including cornering

ABS and Offroad mode)

Seat height: 890mm

Wheelbase: 1580mm +/- 15.5mm

Ground clearance: 250mm

Dry weight: Approximately 217kg

Fuel capacity: Approximately 23 litres

Service intervals: First service at 1000km and then every 15000km. There are also service items required to be carried out at 12-month and 24-month intervals

couple of hours watching the sun set and listening to the soundtrack from Cats. But we didn’t have that helmet, so we had to make do humming a bit of Abba and a few Adam Ant classics.

Off-road and in challenging terrain the size of the bike and the seat height meant the rider had to be sure to stay well in charge. Any stops or wobbles on rocks, ruts or uneven ground meant, at worst, the bike taking over, which was very difficult to correct, or at best, manhandling the bike, and that was hard work.

Wide angle

We can’t not comment on the panniers supplied with the 1290.

The photos will show clearly enough what we’re talking about when we say they do stick out a bit. A big bit. But the payback is they have huge capacity. If Melbourne ever needs to go into lockdown again, they could put the whole city in the left-hand pannier and shut the lid. The one over the pipe is narrower to keep the panniers even out each side of the bike, but it’s still a good size.

The thing is, we felt the panniers were wellmatched to the bike. The 1290’s ideal for big trips, and riders looking for a bike like this one are probably going to want to pack a reasonable amount of stuff, so the panniers made sense.

There’s a big stack of KTM OEM gear available of course, everything from an Akro to a headlight protector, and you can log on to KTM’s website to kit up. Or you can ask your nearest dealer. KTM is doing a great job with accessories for its own bikes lately. Speaking of lighting, the headlight on this bike is a ball-tearer. A wide, white beam makes night riding easy-peasy.

The long and short of it

While we tip our hats to KTM for offering a bike like the 1290 Super Adventure R, we don’t think it’s a bike that will suit a big chunk of the wider adventureriding community. Not like, say, the 790 or 1090. For those wanting to knock off huge expanses of the Wide Brown Land it’s brilliant. But it’s big, and we felt the bike carried its weight high. For tall riders, and strong, aggressive riders, the 1290 will be the cat’s meow. The mechanical and electronic systems all do their jobs well and make the bike a good one. But for anyone who’s shorter than around 180cm, and who doesn’t visit the gym regularly or doesn’t have the kind of riding style where they can tame a big bike and make it do the work, the 1290 Super Adventure R will be a handful off road.

For the long-distance brigade it’s a winner. We reckon KTM nailed it in the media material when it said of the 1290 Super Adventure R: ‘Get out of your comfort zone in comfort!’ That’s this bike, spot on.

Below: At its best when given room to stretch its legs.

The electronics are superb, especially the traction control on slippery causeways.

Below: Moving the screen up or down is as simple as twisting the three-pronged winders on either side.

Below: A phone holder near the steering head is great for users of the My Ride app.

Below: A 12-volt power supply just below the TFT screen is ideally placed for phones and GPS.

Gingers Creek for lunch

‘There’d been coastal showers on and off all week, and that meant inland tracks would be dry, right? Because they’re not on the coast?’ Hopper was allocated just one day of freedom and headed for lunch at the famous Gingers Creek café on the Oxley Highway near Wauchope, NSW.

With restrictions temporarily lifted it was time to play.

The backroads to Dungog were lined with plenty of water, and a good blast along Monkerai Road meant, for the first time in over 15 years, crossing the Karuah River on the secondoldest surviving timber truss bridge in NSW. Originally built in the 1880s, and apparently an exceptionally rare example of the type, the bridge had recently had an upgrade. On to Bucketts Way I rolled and into Gloucester for a splash of 98-octane.

If only

Left: A sensible rider at this point would have gone to Plan B.

Below: A quick day trip in NSW.

Right: A very pleasant river crossing would’ve been a great picnic spot – if there’d been any scones, jam and cream.

A good tight and twisty section ran from Gloucester through to Bundook (it was a lot more fun prior to being tarred) and good dirt road from Bundook crossed the Gloucester and Manning Rivers onto Nowendoc Road. That left a short squirt to the Cells River Road turnoff, a great bit of dirt linking Nowendoc Road to the Oxley Highway.

Cells River Road meandered through farmland stocked with livestock, so care and respect was required. Being a local and having done the route dozens of times, I’d never had a problem and always stopped for a chat with people when I could. It should be obvious, but I’ve always taken special care when I’ve encountered horse riders.

I stopped at a very pleasant river crossing for a break. It would’ve been a great picnic spot – if I’d had any scones, jam and cream.

Not quite right

The track from the river was mainly clay and therefore fine in the dry. But it was very interesting in the wet, especially on the big-girl 790.

Usually the first 30km or so was fine, and the following 30km or so was comprised of several hills. On this day even the first section was greasy, and a sensible rider at this point would have gone to Plan B. I reached the intersection that normally marked the start of ‘the mud’ and straightaway thought meteorologists must have a different definition of the word ‘coastal’. It’d obviously been raining, and the track was very muddy. A legend (like the editor) would have zoomed up the hills without a worry, but a rider at my level could only select first gear and get the paddles out to try and maintain forward momentum.

Like the rider, the action wasn’t pretty, but thankfully I remained upright and it wasn’t long before the track improved. But even on the much better surface something just didn’t feel right with the bike. I stopped, kicked the tyres and walked around the beast shaking things. All seemed fine, so I mounted up and continued on, thinking that although it seemed something wasn’t right, it was probably just my imagination.

Out of wack

The famed Oxley Highway came into view

u

Words and images: Hopper

and I turned on to one of the road-riders’ favourites for a quick blast to Gingers Creek Café.

With a very dirty 790 parked next to the shiny sports bikes, I ordered my pie, cake and coffee, then did another walk around the KTM. I even let some air out the tyres.

After a brief chat with some of the leather-clad sports bikers I pressed on, soon leaving the highway at Stockyard Track to cut across to Knodingbul Road. A few ruts and potholes which the 790 would normally not even notice had me convinced something was definitely amiss. stopped for another inspection and eventually picked up that the shaft connecting the swingarm to the frame was sitting an inch out from ‘the tube’ in which it was normally seated. The other side of the swingarm was way out of alignment and clearly missing something.

Done the bolt

Out came the good old Sat phone.

A call to the friendly folk at KTM Newcastle located a parts list and identified I was in need of a M12x40mm bolt from

the right-hand side of the bike. The bolt held the shaft in place. In the absence of the bolt the shaft in my bike had begun to wander.

I carry an assortment of nuts and bolts, but no 12mm. I used a rock to bash the shaft level with the tube, and carried on at a more sedate pace, stopping several times to bash the bolt back in. I still managed the short detour to Blue Knob Fire Tower – which had been reconditioned since my last visit – and I stopped at Dingo Tops camping area hoping one of the many 4WDers might have a 12mm bolt to get me out of trouble. There were plenty of four-wheel drives and associated tents

set up, but no bodies. I had to settle for a picture with one of the old forestry relics before limping into Gloucester, where thankfully the hardware store was open until 5.00pm on a Saturday.

The hardware store’s assortment of 12mm bolts started at 50mm, but while negotiating with the store for the loan of an 18mm socket, another customer intervened.

“I have a full workshop just down the road,” he offered.

So, with bolt in hand, I followed the friendly local to a well set up workshop. He cut the bolt back to 40mm and lent me the required socket, and after a good chat I was soon on my way.

Trust

After 30km of the Bucketts Way I hit the dirt to Monkerai, feeling as though I was on a totally different bike to the one which had started the day. It held its line and soaked up the bumps. was in the zone! I reckoned if I could ride like this all the time, maybe I could keep up with the editor.

I didn’t get home in time to cut the grass – the bargaining chip that had clinched the gate pass – but I was just thankful to be home in one piece.

Mental note: trust your instincts. If things don’t seem right they probably aren’t.

I wonder how long the swingarm lock bolt had been loose before it finally departed and the whole shaft started to work its way out?

Top: Good dirt road from Bundook crossed the Gloucester and Manning Rivers.

Above left: The famous Gingers Creek café on the Oxley Highway near Wauchope, NSW. Left: The second-oldest surviving timber truss bridge in NSW crosses the Karuah River.

Ural

Adventure Ride 2020

17 mad-keen sidecar owners on boggy dirt roads in the pouring rain…what could go wrong?

There’s no group of riders anywhere more determined to have a good time than Ural owners, and there’s no group of people who have more fun –no matter what.

On top of that, the sidecar set up allows them to include some fairly sensational creature comforts in their luggage, and couples being able to travel together is icing on the cake. Some may have found 2020 to be a bleak year, but not the Ural owners. It would take a lot more than a few contagious bugs and some rough weather to wipe the smiles off this lot.

As they gathered at Ural headquarters in Uralla, NSW, for the annual Ural Adventure Ride, everyone was fair quivering with excitement. The Gear Up two-wheel drive had been unveiled the night before to a very appreciative crowd, and it was generally accepted as a good omen.

An omen of what, nobody seemed quite sure, but any omen is welcome to the Ural people, and good omens are

the only kind they pay any attention to.

Changing of the guard

For the first time Rocky Creek Designs’ Greg Jansen set and ran the Ural Adventure Ride. In the past the ride was run by trainer Jon Taylor, but after many years Jon was happy to tag along as a participant and let someone else have the worry.

And who could be more of a worry than Greg?

Thanks to state-border closures it was a much smaller crew than 2019 – see issue #38 – but no less enthusiastic for all that, and of course, Ural technician Mat Hodge and his family piled onto and into the Gear Up and followed as sweep, and that was obviously every bit as exciting for everyone as having

Left: The forestry sections looked awesome in the light drizzle and mist.

Above: At Gostwyck, ready to get going.

Below left: Vanessa and James had their catering well-sorted.

a squillion starters. Greg had set an interesting course with plenty of time for stops, chats, snacks and sightseeing, and with the weather a little unsettled there was always the chance of a challenge or two on the forestry roads.

A great start

Below right: Have to look after the passenger! u

From Uralla the line of sidecars – and Ural’s Clare Mailler and Chris Barnden driving a support vehicle – chugged sedately down to Gospers – sorry! ‘Gostwyck’ – for the first photo stop. As the bikes were aligned in front of the scenic church some mumbled stories were circulated about a dark and murky past for the site. Unmarked graves were referred to and worried looks were cast about the place. If it was a ploy by Greg J to stop everyone standing around and gasbagging, it worked. The whole show was soon on its way to the first scheduled stop at Walcha and enjoyed a trouble-free run to coffees and snacks.

As planned

Although there were occasional patches of light, misty rain there was nothing to come even close to taking the shine off a Ural owner’s day. The group followed the meandering dirt roads through incredible rolling green pastures and the occasional dry causeway south to Nowendoc for fuel and lunch, and then

Gear Up 2WD

A two-wheel drive Ural has been on the wish list for Australian owners for a very long time. It’s been available in the US and Europe for ages, but the sidecar being on the opposite side has been a hurdle.

But at last it’s here and it looks a serious bit of gear.

Ural tech Mat Hodge rode the Gear Up with his family on board and found it made no real difference to feel or performance of the rig for general riding. Like a diff lock on a four-wheel drive, the two-wheel drive is only selected when it’s needed. The rest of the time the outfit operates the same as any other Ural.

A shaft and universal connects the rear wheel – ‘the pusher’ – to the sidecar wheel and drive is engaged via a lever near the rider’s foot. There’s no diff, so two-wheel drive tends to make the rig understeer, but when things have turned to custard we don’t imagine that would be much of a problem.

The Gear Up certainly got a great reception from the Ural owners on the ride, so it’s looking like a winner.

through more impossibly gorgeous scenery to the overnight stay at Wingham.

Although both Walcha and Nowendoc had food and drinks available, the Ural set likes to be independent, and there were some impressive catering options set up by riders at both places. First prize had to go to James Sparkes and Vanessa Rossignoli. The couple had a Ural each,

and one had the fridge and stove, while the other had the cheese platter, coffee machine and various other sundries with which mere villages and townships couldn’t hope to compete.

Wingham golf club proved a suitable overnighter with good accom and a restaurant which meant everyone could park up and relax to talk back through a

Left: Blue Nob for a rainy regroup.

Below: A wet finish for an ecstatic group at Gingers Creek picnic area. Next year’s ride was already being discussed.

very pleasant first day.

Squish

The return trip was scheduled to run from Wingham, north to Elands, Ellenborough Falls and Blue Nob lookout, then a lazy run through the Cells State Conservation Area

to effectively finish the ride at Gingers Creek picnic area on the Oxley Highway.

And that was pretty much the way things went…except there was a spot of rain heading through the forestry.

Maybe a bit more than ‘a spot’. The redclay roads, churned up by logging trucks and other traffic, seemingly devoid of any traction whatsoever, added a little excitement to the final section.

But excitement is mother’s milk to the Ural crowd! Yessir! There were some huge grins on the very satisfied riders and

passengers as they unpacked hampers of high-end deli delights and settled in to the sheltered picnic tables to talk their way through what had been an absolutely first-class and thoroughly enjoyable couple of days.

It was another raging success, and the possibility of two-night rides in future was already a topic of discussion. It doesn’t matter how long the rides are, or what the weather’s like, it’s pretty much guaranteed Ural owners will enjoy themselves.

Bush ranging

Graeme Sedgwick

covered big time in a short distance via a ride and overnight hideaway near Piggoreet in Victoria’s central west.

The objective on this ride was a fruit-salad excursion through some spectacular state forest called Plantation Hill, Cherry Tree Hill and stretches of other nameless bush landscape jammed south of the Glenelg Highway. The plan was to ride in whatever direction the abundance of tracks within the targeted areas took me. I knew if things turned pear-shaped I was surrounded by a number of villages with more storytelling history than my best forestry-track riding could be expected to offer.

Remembered

On a cloudless, blue-sky day, I rode up, down and around forestry gravel named Deviation, Cross, Kennedys and Graded, criss-crossed by any number of singleand twin-track challenges immediately east of Linton in Victoria. It was great.

Left: Making a splash at Piggoreet.

Above: The spectacular state forest at Plantation Hill.

Below left: The pub at Linton.

Below: Sweeping rural landscape, history and away from major roads.

Below right: The old iron foundry at Linton.

First settled and named in 1840 after a pioneer family, the locality became known as the Linton’s Diggings. The discovery of gold eight years later saw many people, especially the Chinese, mine ‘The Diggings’, and once the gold was exhausted many set up market gardens.

But most people’s memory of the area would be the wildfire accident in December, 1998.

The inferno raged through private property and state forests nearby and at around 8.45pm two firefighting appliances and their crews were trapped

Words and images: Graeme Sedgwick

and engulfed following an unexpected wind change. The incident took the lives of five volunteer firefighters and that’s etched hard in the area’s recent history.

A sign

Linton town’s ‘Linton Larder’ is owned and operated by local man Carl. When he’s not serving fabulous coffee or spruiking his mate Devon’s Bali Dirt Bike Tours to riders who appear to recharge their energydepleted bodies, Carl races a YZ400 in VMX.

Away from Linton and back into the rolling forestry landscape via Nesbittes and Martins, I climbed through towering timber to Ridge Road and a panorama which allowed an appreciation of the scale of both Plantation and Cherry Tree Hill plantations. From there I tackled any amount of mapped and unmapped tracks between the formed gravel roads of Wooden Tower, Kates, Richards, Gays, Groves, Shellbacks and others. It wasn’t hard to lose track of time and orientation amid the unfolding mysteries that presented themselves to this wayward rider trying to improve his skills. The rider also found himself swimming within the oven of his protective gear when he paused to enjoy scenery.

A signpost indicating Snake Valley meant another welcome chance to recharge.

Looking good

Supported by broadacre farming, grazing and timber industries, Snake Valley was a

Foul deed

perfect place to rehydrate in the warmth of the afternoon’s sun and absorb what appeared an idyllic life.

The township has a special sense of place formed by the area’s history, sweeping rural landscape and location away from major roads. The small population supports a surprising number of community groups, including an astronomical association and Woady Yaloak Primary School.

was well content with my solo excursion through forestry country thus far.

My passage headed towards the lighter-treed scrub country, arcing southwest via Mount Bute’s Lookout Tower, Mount Erip, then easterly adrift of Happy Valley, under some remaining trestle rail bridges, and splashing through some round-rockbased waterways south of Scarsdale. Skirting abandoned gold-digging areas, I cut through countryside that bank manager Thomas Ulick Burke had often travelled during Victoria’s goldrush times, before he became the victim of the infamous ‘Break O’ Day murder’. Burke’s untimely end was a consequence of his need to travel throughout the diggings buying gold from miners at a time when gold transports weren’t accompanied by armed escorts. History records Burke collected a horse and buggy from the Smythesdale coach-builder then travelled to the Break O’ Day area –now known as Corindhap. He bought gold at Rokewood and Break O’ Day, then left to make his return, stopping at hotels along the way to buy more gold. Realising Burke’s vulnerability, the Break O’ Day publican and an employee left on horseback afterwards, intending to rob Burke near the intersection of the PitfieldScarsdale Road and the Old Pitfield Road. The idea was for the publican to distract Burke so his employee could shoot the gold buyer in the back of the head, then snatch the gold and cash and push the buggy with Burke’s body into the scrub and release his horse.

It’s not hard to imagine the pair’s boldness travelling across the undulating countryside that was once home to some 25,000 people, but is now all but deserted.

A straightforward ride wandered through townships with names like Cape Clear, Italian Gully and Staffordshire Reef to the north-west of Corindhap where the Break O’ Day Hotel stands, and then southward as the sun touched the horizon. As short as the day’s ride was, the forest and scrub country had provided sufficient excitement for this late entrant to the world of riding, and I was surprised to see 517km on the trip meter as I pulled the key from the ignition.

It was enough for this small-time adventurer.

Above: Any amount of mapped and unmapped tracks.

Below: The Break O’ Day pub at Corindhop.

of age Coming

Andy considers the future in light of the past.

Just how long can I keep this up?

No, this isn’t a set up for a bishop-andactress joke. It’s an existential dilemma that will face us all.

After tripping over the 60 line and smacking my scone on a simple but temporarily disabling ankle injury, I had time to pause. The situation was made worse when Tontine The Soft asked me if I would be able to kick over the occasionally cranky 1974 750 Ducati post-injury.

Struth, I hoped so!

During a couple of months on crutches it seems fair enough thoughts of one’s fragility and survival raises its ugly bonce. I’m sure, like me, you are surrounded by limping, dodgy-shouldered mates who tell tall tales with the preface, ‘I was lucky’. Around the campfire, they tell horror stories of 27 broken ribs, 30 years in Intensive Care, a dislocated arse and a severely bruised wallet, followed by decades in domestic-credit rehab.

After a few nights curled up in the foetal position, rocking myself to sleep, the swelling and discomfort subsided. A few months locked down in the Unclean State, a couple of bikes ‘prepped’ to the edge of pathetic and it seemed less dramatic. How remarkable is the human mind! As soon as we’re fixed we forget about the drama involved in ending up where we did.

Getting back to riding bikes seems like the most natural thing to do.

The question

I’m reminded of the old saying: ‘expecting different

outcomes from doing the same thing is akin to insanity’.

Far be it from me to grow up, but now it’s crossed my mind that should look at what will keep me doing what love as long as possible.

Yeah, yeah: ‘slow down, take it easy and take in the views’.

As if!

Lay out a ribbon of twisty tarmac or a grippy dirt road before me and the years melt away.

A young larrikin rears its ugly greying head and goes looking for the essence of motorcycling.

Maybe acupuncture or hypnosis might be able to prevent the distortion of sense and fear laid down by ‘The Red Mist’.

I have tried to do the slow-ride thing and it didn’t float my boat. A trip on Scrawn’s Postie scared me more than an Africa Twin on full noise.

Underpowered and appalling road manners are not a solution to surviving into motorcycling dotage. It’s pretty obvious an XYZ 700 Rally Extreme is not the way to ring in the retirement either.

So what is?

Defining

I guess it will have to be light, manoeuvrable, agile, powerful but not arm-stretching, intuitive and comfortable. ABS and traction control will have a lot to do with looking after me as the reflexes slow and ability-to-ambition gap widens even further.

That’s a big ask the more I think about it.

I have a couple of mates in WA who have moved

across to obscenely powerful adventure sidecar outfits and reckon their two-wheel idiocy will survive many more years. Hmm.

We’ve all heard the comment, ‘I don’t bounce as well as I used to’. That’s a function of ageing as bones lose their calcium concentration and hormone levels decline. One thing we can bank on while adventure riding is making eyes at the ground. Naturally, there is a whole heap I can do to ‘prep’ me. Staying fit and flexible, as well as wearing the best and most comprehensive protective gear I can afford, is crucial to longevity on two adventurous wheels. That means using it and not leaving it in the shed as the drama of injury fades with time too!

The thought of being too old for motorcycle riding fills me with dread.

I’ve always ridden! I’m sure you have been told you are ‘too old for such a dangerous hobby’. But they don’t get it, do they?

It’s life-affirming, the essence of existence, not a hobby. We define ourselves by what we do. It’s the mirror that reflects us back at ourselves. A builder, a doctor, a nurse, a parent. Long live me. I’m a motorcyclist, an adventure rider!

Main: ABS and traction control will have a lot to do with looking after me as the reflexes slow and ability-to-ambition gap widens even further.

Above: I’m motorcyclist, an adventure rider!

Below: Getting back to riding bikes seems like the most natural thing to do.

aNdy STrapz

Words: Andy ‘Strapz’ White

To Russia with love

Bordering on the ridiculous e were running our second Beautiful Baltics tour in August 2019. Because of some misgivings about the Russian bike supplier we’d used previously for this tour, we were using bikes from our Slovenian supplier with whom we’d partnered for 10 years to run our Dalmatian Delights tour.

WThese guys, based in Ljubljana, were very professional and competent operators, but their European-registered bikes had never crossed a border into Russia before, so I made sure they were aware of all the potential dramas of arriving at the border without the correct paperwork. We needed rego papers, green slips (insurance),

procedure; we need to firstly process the riders out of one country, followed by the bikes, then cross no-man’s land, then process the riders into the next country, followed by the bikes.

Getting the riders stamped out of Latvia was no problem at all, and likewise with the bikes. We crossed no-man’s land and the passport stamping into Russia also proceeded smoothly. With four of the five stages done in a little over an hour, things were looking pretty good.

Then came the task of getting the bikes into Russia.

Denied

and a Power Of Attorney specifying our riders were authorised to be riding rental bikes they didn’t own. I didn’t want to leave anything to chance.

Our tour escort Matej personally went to the Russian consulate in Ljubljana with a Lada load of papers and was told, “Da. This is precisely what you need. All good. It will be smooth and you’ll have no trouble at the border.”

A good start

Of course when we rocked up to the border after a week in PolandLithuania-Latvia, the process was anything but smooth. Border crossings are always a five-stage

We spent four hours at the Customs booth.

“Fill in this form with all the motorbike details.”

“Now fill out this next declaration with all the same details.”

“Oh. Now here’s another form we found you can also fill out, and we need you

to do two copies each please. No, you cannot borrow our photocopier.”

And after all that the final verdict was...“Nyet.” We could not bring rented vehicles into Russia. Vehicles could only be brought in by the registered owner.

We pointed out the bikes were owned by a European company called AMT and a director of the company was standing right in front of them.

“Nyet.”

We became aware that a young hotshot German guy with an immaculately groomed beard, a manbun and a stunning girlfriend was also having trouble getting his Audi R8 through Customs because of the Europcar Rentals sticker on the back of it. Eventually he gave up in frustration, and with an angry screech of burning rubber he spun it around and headed back in the direction of Latvia.

We tried everything, including the time-honoured tradition of offering a small cash incentive to solve the impasse,

and that almost got us into serious trouble. Eventually it became apparent there was no alternative but to turn around and head back into Latvia. By that stage Matej and I were already working on a Plan B to hire a minivan on the Russian side and still get the group through to Russia – without the bikes – for the scheduled two-day visit to St. Petersburg.

Words and images: Mike Ferris

Top: A happy bike group in Latvia. Above: Welcome to Lithuania, little Wee-Strom.

Left: Stately buildings are everywhere in St. Petersburg.

Top left: The tour started in Gdansk, a delightful Polish town.

Bottom left: The Hermitage Museum. Simply stunning. Below: Waterways and canals keep the city cool.

One step back

As we turned back to Latvia a further complication occurred to me.

We each had only a single-entry visa for Russia, and we’d already been stamped in, albeit without the bikes. Thankfully we managed to persuade the Russian Immigration officer to annul our entry of a few hours earlier.

So we went through the rigmarole of getting riders and bikes back into Latvia.

Interestingly, the Latvian border officials just smiled and expressed no surprise we were coming back into their country, having just departed earlier that same afternoon. We were left with the distinct impression this kind of thing happened quite often.

There was no sign of the Audi R8. He was probably in Berlin by then.

Quick change

It should be mentioned there were absolutely no facilities at the border. Nothing by way of restaurants or shops, or even a toilet. We hadn’t eaten a thing since breakfast at 7:30am and it was 5:00pm as we remounted the bikes. On the ride back into Latvia tried desperately to find a restaurant, but in the absence thereof, we parked in a small rural town and I raided the supermarket for cheese, ham, bread and a few other bits and pieces, and we had a picnic outside a

dilapidated apartment block. Then it was back to the previous night’s hotel in Rezekne and a quick change out of riding gear into ‘civvies’ in the carpark.

Our visit to Russia was to be only for three days, so I advised everyone to throw a few clothes into a small daypack in order to leave our suitcases and the bulk of our luggage with Matej and the van. We then all clambered into some pre-ordered cabs for the ride back to the border. The bikes were left at the hotel with Matej, who had to figure out how to get them to our (different) Russian exit point at Narva in Estonia within 72 hours.

It was personally disappointing for

Matej not to get to Russia, as he’d been particularly looking forward to seeing St. Petersburg.

Slow and steady

Back we went through Latvian Immigration for the third stamp into our passports with the same date. Getting through Russian Immigration again was straightforward, as was Customs, seeing as we had no vehicles to worry about. We finally managed to get successfully across the border at about 9:30pm. Much to my relief, there was a minibus waiting for us – Matej continued to work miracles, even from the other side of the border.

Back on two wheels

The next morning Vladimir was not available, so Alexei took us through to St. Petersburg.

What a stunning old city centre the place has, and our hotel was very central, on the banks of the Neva River in Petrogradsky District. Stately old buildings, majestic, grand and meticulously maintained, stood everywhere and we all thoroughly enjoyed our ‘rest’ day there, visiting the Hermitage Museum complex and the Peterhof Palace, a half-hour ferry ride down the Gulf of Finland.

We packed our sparse belongings into the rear luggage compartment and selected our seats for the journey to Pskov.

Our driver’s name, would you believe, was Vladimir. Vladimir, in my limited experience, was typical of many Russian men in their 50s: hugely overweight, very hairy, not particularly friendly, and not attractive by any immediately apparent measure. He was obviously a very heavy smoker or had recently swallowed a small dog. Perhaps both. We knew this because almost every minute on the minute, for the next 90 minutes, he barked loudly and productively. At one stage he wound down his window and spat a furball untidily into the night. God help any driver behind us whose windscreen washers weren’t working. He wasn’t a fast driver. He insisted on driving precisely at the posted speed limit,

which of course was virtually anaethema to any motorcyclist. We reached some roadworks, and at 10:30pm the workers had obviously finished for the day and had long gone home. But the speed limit sign still said 30, so Vladimir drove for three kilometres, not at 50kph or 40kph or even 31kph. He drove at 30kph.

Last drinks

We managed to reach Pskov safely and the big surprise was the size of the place. I’d imagined a small country town with not much going on, but it was a huge metropolis with a town centre still busy at nearly midnight. We found our hotel and, as we checked in, I spied a door marked ‘Bar’ and enquired if perchance the bar was still open? Anastasia looked up at the clock, sucked air noisily through her teeth and said, “Yes, but closing in seven minutes”.

The group went through that door like those shoppers you see on TV when the stores open at 8:00am for Boxing Day specials.

In the morning of Russia Day Three we had yet another minivan and driver waiting to take us to Narva, the border crossing into Estonia. Once again, without the bikes to worry about, the border crossing was a breeze – although we were thankful not to have any luggage with us. The no-man’s land between the two Immigration posts was about a 400m walk across a bridge.

We were through by 11:30am and waiting on the other side was a smiling Matej, who had our bikes all washed and neatly lined up in readiness for us! We had an early lunch in the town centre of Narva and then hit the road for Tallinn, Estonia’s quirky and attractive little capital city.

Worked out well

Despite the hassles we’d managed to visit Russia anyway, just without the bikes. And our rest day there was never intended to involve riding in any case, so the only thing we missed out on really was the ride into and out of St. Petersburg. After witnessing the manic traffic in and around this huge city, several of the group commented it was probably better it’d ended up that way.

Left: The magnificent gardens of Peterhof. Bottom left: The Winter Palace is spectacular. Above: “No. You cannot borrow our photocopier.” Below: Estonia’s capital Tallinn is rather quirky.

Wheelies: part two

HMiles continues his tips on the finer points of lofting the front wheel.

opefully some of you got some good tips from last issue’s Wheelies: part one, and got a solid foundation of wheelie basics, what to do and what not to do. So much of the wheelie process is timing, so learning throttle/clutch coordination together with body inputs is important, and not so easy at the beginning. Once you have a feel for it and the timing becomes more consistent, you can take it to another level by adding some clutch into the mix. Using the clutch precisely can provide more options and control. As covered in previous issues, clutch control is a huge part of more advanced off-road riding.

Before you consider adding the clutch into your wheelies you really need to be proficient with throttle and clutch control in general riding. If you’re not comfortable precisely modulating throttle and clutch together to improve control on uphills and in tighter, tech, slow-riding conditions, you should probably stick to throttle-only wheelies as the risk of things going wrong is high.

Slow, clutch-pop wheelies

Again, start in the seated position, sitting towards the back of your seat to add weight and traction to your rear wheel and lighten the front. Start off in first gear.

clutch in and release it sharply (in a controlled manner) with a precise burst of throttle. Then, almost immediately bring the clutch back in again. It’s about one short burst to raise or lighten the wheel, not repeated blips chasing a wheelie with revs.

The goal is to get traction. Too much throttle will create wheelspin, rather than drive and lift. The surface can help, so start on something with better traction, not wet and slick or dry and skatey. A slight uphill can also help as it puts more weight on the back and lightens the front. On many bikes it’s very surprising how low the rpm can be to get a nice lift. Think about the benefits of low-rpm torque getting traction, rather than revs.

Rear-brake insurance

This is so important I’ve copied and pasted from last issue’s Wheelies: part one I’ve already mentioned having your right foot in a good position over your rear brake. The reason for this is, if the front wheel gets too high you may flip the bike, especially the first time you get more height. So, before you go looking for higher wheelies, you need to program your brain to dab the rear brake while the front wheel is in the air. Obviously reducing the throttle will also

Left: Wheelies over puddles are practical, fun and good practice.

Right: Leaning forward will take weight off the back wheel and lead to wheelspin rather than lift.

Below: Mongolia just makes you want to wheelie! Going uphill is generally easier.

Your rolling speed can be slower than with the throttle-only version. In fact, you can be basically stopped, which is one of the benefits. Being able to pop the front wheel slightly from a very low roll speed really assists getting over obstacles in more technical terrain where you don’t have the luxury of a higher roll speed. Your right foot should be sitting over the rear brake, ready to dab if you get a lot of height and are risking a ‘loop out’ or flip. Rolling off the gas at low speed doesn’t provide a real deceleration effect, so you may actually use a dab of either brake to squash the suspension slightly. Now, instead of adding just throttle, pull the

help drop the front wheel, but not always, especially if you’ve launched it past the balance point. The rear brake really brings the front end down, so it can be a lifesaver. The sooner you practice this skill the less likely you’ll be to flip the bike and the sooner you’ll have the confidence and skills to execute higher wheelies. Make sure your foot is above the rear brake lever. Have your foot positioned against the engine so you simply slide it down and don’t miss the lever when you really need it. With the front wheel in

u

the air, pull in the clutch and dab the brake. You don’t need to smash it, just get a feel for the pressure needed to bring the front down. Once you have done this once, repeat, repeat, repeat! It can save you a lot of drama, cash and embarrassment.

Stand and deliver

Once you start feeling the technique and timing coming together you can try the same in the standing position. You should start in first gear as the goal is to ride over obstacles at low speed (more on faster wheelies later). You need to really anticipate the

forces of acceleration when you pop the clutch as you don’t want to be thrown backwards – remember Whisky Throttle? You don’t want to lean back too far, and you don’t want to lean forward as this will take weight off the back wheel and lead to wheelspin rather than lift. Stay central and balanced, engage your core as required to be strong on the bike, but at the same time stay loose and agile. Don’t be a rigid Lego Man. And don’t be a ‘noodle’, getting thrown around by the acceleration. Try starting on a slight uphill which will make it easier.

Left: A controlled front-wheel loft can assist with dropping off ledges.

Below left: Power wheelies are generally lower, under high acceleration. More power required, less skill.

Right: A sit-down wheelie can provide better traction going up a hill using torque and not accelerating much, covering the rear brake in case it gets too high.

One of the key benefits of standing is the force you can put into the suspension by bouncing down firmly at the right time. When done right you can really improve the traction factor, even on quite slick surfaces. If you’re getting wheelspin and roost you need to use your body position to increase traction, and/or your throttle and clutch more precisely.

The second key benefit of the standing position is the ability to use your legs to absorb the whack from the obstacle. In the seated position you get a big kick in the arse when your back wheel hits the log. In the standing position you can absorb the kick more effectively.

Summary

Not many people become proficient at wheelies. Of the ones who do, most at some stage put in a lot of time practicing. You should have realistic goals based on your experience, the type of bike you ride and the level of risk you’re prepared to take.

A significant amount of time at all of my training courses is dedicated to clutch and throttle control as it’s so important for off-road riding, and at most courses the topics of throttle wheelies and clutch wheelies are covered. As an experienced instructor I can usually tell who should and shouldn’t be attempting the more advanced techniques. So it’s about putting in the practice that best suits you and being happy with the improvements you’re making. There is no shortcutting, or the risks just go through the roof. Next issue we’ll have a look at balance-point wheelies and poser wheelies.

Note

Onalmost all bikes, the key clutch actuation points are in a small 10mm-20mm zone of the 100mm of the clutch-lever range of movement (approximately, measured at the ball end of the lever).

With a properly adjusted clutch, the first 30mm-40mm of range does nothing, then you hit the 10mm-20mm ‘Jedi zone’. Then the last 30mm-40mm are freeplay, which also does nothing.

If you have never done this test before, give it a go. Select first gear with the engine running and slowly release the clutch until you hear and feel the clutch start to engage. See how far the end of the clutch lever has travelled. Then, stop your engine, and feel how much free play there is at the end of your clutch lever. I’m pretty confident that there is only around 10mm-20mm range left in the middle, which is where all of your clutch actually works. This is the zone you need to be working on. The rest does nothing.

Not to plan: part two

Last issue we left Karen and her group partway through a 10-day ride full of unexpected challenges. The conclusion of the story makes the first instalment look like ‘the fun part’.

The forecast of rain was the latest determiner of our route.

Well, that and the need to be home for work.

We made our way from Tilpa to Wanaaring and stocked up on a whole bunch of unusual supplies, including bacon, eggs, a jar of coffee, a loaf of bread, and a pumpkin. The new plan was to ride to

Hungerford in Queensland and go to Currawinya National Park. Mutawintje National Park and White Cliffs were now off due to forecast rain. The intention was to cook up a bacon-and-egg brekky and sit around waiting for the midday border opening (this was on about the 12th version of the Queensland/ NSW border-closure rules).

Overnight the good folk at the Bureau Of Meteorology updated the forecast for even more rain. Greg and I were still really keen to stick to our plan, whereas Kylie and Dave were practical. They thought if there was rain coming we were better off in Bourke where there’s bitumen.

The idea of being stuck out west when you’re due back at work, while tempting, wasn’t ideal in reality. There was some conjecture that the only reason I wanted to go to Hungerford was because I didn’t want to face that Bourke-to-Wanaaring road (it was the road that saw me have five or six falls when we first started adventure riding), but I dispute that.

Kylie and Dave won that round so, after jump starting Dave’s bike, we headed for Bourke just as the sun was rising.

A bleak outlook

There’s some uncertainty about how the next part of the trip came about.

We had a slap-up breakfast in Bourke (I was silently toasting myself with cappuccinos at having successfully ridden what was left of the dirt on that patch of hell that is the Bourke-to-Wanaaring road) and headed off on a black-soil road to Brewarrina.

With dark clouds all around us. And rain forecast.

About 40km out of Bourke the downpour began.

Drip

feed

I didn’t even realise what was happening at first. It was like bugs were hitting my visor, except it was splats of mud. Dave pulled over and had a few choice words to say about our situation and Greg took over the lead, followed by Kylie, myself and then Dave. They were taking it all in their stride while Dave was wishing he was back on the Beemer.

Then the rain started in earnest. had a moment, then looked in my mirror to see Dave fall under the DR. pulled up in the middle of the road and walked back to him – there was no way I was turning around and riding back, and by the time I got there he’d freed his leg from under the bike, but his ankle was in a fair bit of pain. We got the bike up and continued on.

Top left: Somewhere between Bourke and Brewarrina on a black-soil road in the rain.

Left: The DR went down.

Above: Getting the bikes off the track.

Right: Couldn’t get going again because the bike was choked with mud.

It was probably only another kilometre or two when I stopped to see how he was going and couldn’t get going again because the bike was that choked up with mud. By that time it was pouring, and trying to continue was pointless, if not impossible, so between his ankle and two clogged-up bikes it took us nearly an hour in the rain to get the bikes off the road and over to the only two trees in the vicinity. We got a tarp set up and settled in to make a cuppa while we looked at our options (I’ll give you a clue: all our options involved us sitting beside a quagmire in the rain with no phone reception). To compound matters, we had completely forgotten to top up our water before

leaving Bourke, so we had about a litre. I can’t ever remember a time we’ve left a town without making sure all our water containers were filled. All wasn’t lost. It was raining, after all. It just required standing patiently at the bottom of the tarp in a downpour and letting the water flow into various containers. You might be thinking, ‘Why bother?’ Well, at that stage we had no idea of how long we might be stuck there, and the potential of even a day without water didn’t sound attractive. We got the tent up in the mud and decided to forego food and drink so we wouldn’t have to get up in the middle of the night.

Rendezvous

At that time we didn’t have any sort of emergency-contact system. We’d let the last one lapse because the cost was getting ridiculous (I know, you can’t put a price on your safety), and Kylie and Greg were carrying a tracker, but of course, we’d become separated from them. I imagined them in Brewarrina sipping lattes and worrying about how we were. If only we could get a message to them to let them know we were okay. Then, in some kind of miracle of timing, Dave’s phone had no bars of service instead of no service. He tried calling Kylie. It rang and she answered. It turned out Greg had come off his bike and was unhurt, but Kylie’s clutch was fried so they were camped up too, only a couple of kilometres away!

On the map we could see there was a house just off the road between us, so we agreed we’d go there in the morning.

Going nowhere

Kylie’s phone reception was better (when she stood on one leg with her head in a particular tree), so she’d already been

kareN raMSay

Words: Karen Ramsay

on the phone to their girls Haylea and Jaymi, and a mechanic, and tried to call us. Conserving characters – as Dave had a prepaid SIM for the trip – we messaged our kids that we were fine but ‘stuck on black soil road at the back of Bourke’. That led to the kids looking into posting on social media, searching maps for Black Soil Road and looking into rescue options. Meanwhile, Kylie and Greg’s kids were all set to head out with the trailer the next day, but the reality of it all was we had no idea when the road

might be passable again.

Plus, Dave wasn’t in a fit state to ride and Kylie’s bike wasn’t going anywhere.

Settling in

In the morning Kylie and Greg slogged through the mud to the house, only to arrive just as Glenn and his wife – owners of the property – were sitting down to bacon and eggs. Kylie and Greg were hoping to get the use of the hay shed, but Glenn did one better and offered up the old shearers’ quarters.

That was how we came to live in there. There was electricity, separate rooms and even a working kettle and toaster. We finally cooked up the bacon and eggs we’d bought at Wanaaring and settled in for the wait. That afternoon the clouds came up and the rain came down again. It was time to get mail redirected to our new home.

Out of there

We tried hard not to pester Glenn too much with questions like, ‘How long does the road usually stay closed for?’

And he didn’t pester us asking, ‘Why would you ride a black-soil road when there’s rain coming?’

At least we weren’t the only ones. Glenn’s neighbours also had some riders camped in their shed. If that was you, nice to know we weren’t the only ones! There was also built-in entertainment in the form of Buddy the pugnacious pet goat, who tried to assert his manhood by regularly attacking Dave and Greg, drawing blood on more than one occasion.

wait three or four days. And that was fine, except Kylie was supposed to be back at work the next day.

We figured we had enough food to last for at least three days. We had pumpkin in the coals stuffed with sundried tomatoes, freekeh and sweet potato…on the first night.

By the third day food was starting to look a bit scarce, and each time Buddy reared up on his hind legs cartoon images of roast-goat-on-a-plate flashed before our eyes.

On day four Greg declared he was getting out, with or without us. Dave had taken to making hourly inventories of the food we had left before starvation set in and Greg was doing constant moisture checks of the driveway. Glenn thought we’d make it, so Greg and I rode while the other two and their bikes were in the ute with Glenn.

Those same clouds began rolling in again, so it became a race against weather. It was a slippery ride on the bikes with the ute following, but Kylie suffered the most with Dave grabbing her leg every time he saw my bike slide.

Feet up

Safely ensconced at Bourke, and very grateful to Glenn for his mercy dash, it was time to work out how we could get home. Kylie tried to find a new clutch for her WR – no worries…if we were prepared to

With all the offers from family and friends, we eventually got our son Darcy to come and get us in his ute. We figured Darcy and Kylie could take turns riding Dave’s DR while Dave and his sprained ankle travelled in the ute. The only issue would be finding gutters for Kylie to stop at because there’s no way she’d be touching the ground anywhere.

Saved

Darcy left the Gold Coast early the next morning as we were heading off in search of a big breakfast and real coffee. Dave decided he’d be able to ride to breakfast if he could get his fat ankle into his joggers. That was fine. What wasn’t fine was halfway to the café the bike slowed and stopped. The DR’s clutch had given up the ghost, too.

So breakfast was spent with Kylie seeing if anyone had a DR clutch. The most obvious solution was a bike shop in Goondiwindi or Moree that Darcy would be passing and could pick it up on the way through. Here’s a tip to bike shops: if someone tells you they need to know in the next 30 minutes whether or not you have a particular part and you say you’ll call them back, then return their call. It shouldn’t take three calls on a Monday morning to get an answer.

Fortunately Darcy is a good grandson so he called in to see the grandies in Toowoomba on the way. The half hour with Bob and Jeanette meant there was just enough time to get an answer out of the bike shop and he arrived just as I finished paying over the phone. Darc pulled up at our cabin in Bourke just before dark and we put him straight to work installing the new clutch in the DR. Our trip home was uneventful. We even called in at the site of the infamous toilet-climbing incident to find they’d put an out-of-order sign on the offending door.

While our ride didn’t work out as we expected, it certainly was a pretty fun adventure.

Left: The best coffee in the west is at the Wanaaring Store. Above: Straight to work installing the new clutch in the DR. Right: Jumpstarting the DR.

Touratech Triumph Tiger 900 Rally Pro

Touratech makes premium aftermarket gear, and the Triumph Tiger 900 Rally Pro is a premium adventure bike. It’s like they belong together! Prices TBA. See all the Touratech gear at shop.touratech.com.au.

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Power your phone, GPS and many other devices.

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A compact cable lock which frees up riders to leave their bike and gear protected from opportunistic theft.

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RRP: $27 plus postage

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Mosko Moto

Inspired by the hydration packs Mosko Moto makes for back country skiing and mountain biking.

R A completely different kind of tank bag

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Make your machine fit you, not the other way around.

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shAD terrA AluMiniuM pAnniers

Four new cases designed, engineered and manufactured 100% in Barcelona.

Mosko Moto rAk jAcket-AnD-pAnt kit

The ‘less is more’ approach to adventure riding.

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DenAli 2.0 s4 leD light kit

Specifically engineered to reduce cost without sacrificing performance, quality or durability.

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Available from: Mosko

R LiveActive thermal management keeps the LEDs cool

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AlpinestArs tech 7 enDuro DrystAr

We heard someone stood half an hour in a creek with these on and still had dry feet.

R Waterproof Drystar membrane

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1100 denier cordura sewn over vinyl-coated polyester.

R Two soft panniers

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R

R

R Stainless-steel, lockable, quick-release mechanism

R 35-litre and 31-litre (notched for exhaust). 66 litres plus external storage of four litres each pannier.

R Each pannier also has two two-litre pockets designed for carrying fuel/water

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rADiAtor guArDs

An essential aftermarket part.

R For the hardcore adventure rider

R Easy to fit

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RRP: $259. On special for $184

Available from: Rad Guard

Phone: (02) 6658 0060

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shoei hornet ADV hel

Designed to maintain performance in every environment.

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RRP:

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Ad Manager Mitch has had an awesome run with these gloves and gives them the full thumbs up.

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RRP: $59.95

Available from: Your local motorcycle dealer Web: mcleodaccessories.com.au

yAMAhA ténéré 700 screen ADjuster

Designed to fit models from 2019 onward.

R 80mm adjustment over the stock screen

R Reduction in wind noise is very noticeable

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R Made in Australia

koMine jk ADVenture j

Ideal for warm-weather riding.

R Large mesh panels for great airflow

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Dealer enquiries phone: McLeod Accessories 1300 300 191

R No tools required for height adjustment

RRP: $89.95 plus postage and handling

Available from:

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oxforD AQuA luggAge rAnge

Constructed using durable PVC tarpaulin and welded to ensure waterproofness.

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AlpinestArs copper gloVes

An excellent, lightweight summer glove.

R Hard knuckle covered by stretch spandex

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Mc cruise cruise control for bMW f800gs froM 2016 (throttle-by-Wire only)

Set-and-forget cruise control.

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enDuristAn Monsoon eVo pAnniers

Clips directly on to BMW OEM pannier frames without the need for an additional backing plate.

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tcx bAjA WAterproof boots

An all-weather, adventure, enduro, ATV and light road-riding boot.

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Cruise computer is fully configurable by the user for either kph or mph

Standard Cruise wiring harness has a connector for the bike’s accessory CAN-BUS plug

Optional CAN-BUS dongle patch has two CAN-BUS connectors for when the bike’s CAN-BUS accessory plug is connected to a device such as a tyre-pressure monitor or alarm system

RRP: Check the website

Available from: mccruise.com

yclops Multi function inDicAtor kit

Turn your blinkers into additional running lights and/or brake lights for added visibility.

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For all those bits and pieces.

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helD MojAVe top

Another high-quality riding jacket.

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A dualsport summer glove.

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füsport siMpson AnD gibson boots

The Simpson is a full-height boot, and the Gibson is the shorter version.

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A waterproof backpack for all occasions.

R 20-litre capacity with roll closure

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R 70-litre capacity

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Extra-large drybag suitable for most bikes.

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Available from: Motorrad Garage Web: motorradgarage.com.au sW-Motech triton bAckpAck

Crash Protection

Luggage

Auxillary Lights

Racks