I had owned several bikes in the past, starting with an execrable Puch moped (with 3-speed wrist action gearchange) which suffered from terminal small-end decay, but that's another story. I needed a reliable, modern bike to cover the 32 mile round trip to work, provide entertainment on the excellent, quiet A-roads of Fife and to tour in comfort. I bitterly regretted having sold my Honda XBR500 to a dealer, despite having fooled him that it had never been in an accident, but recalled its appetite for rear tyres and chains with less than fondness.
I was in the fortunate position of having some spare dosh and the Yamaha 600 Diversion beckoned. I liked its modern styling, its relative simplicity and the bright red finish. It seemed to fit the bill and was reasonably priced for a new bike. I felt immediately at home on the test ride. The Diversion's handling inspired great confidence and it's a very straightforward bike to ride. After only a few moments I felt that it was just the bike for me. After some running around, the best deal was a bike at list price but with a pair of red Krauser panniers thrown in for free.
I was careful running in but the OE Yokohama on the rear disappeared in 2500 miles. I'm told that the alternative Dunlops are better. The size is odd and choice was limited then, so on went a Metzeler. Oil and filter changes were easy, although the filter was expensive at £10.50. The bike used oil, but had both an idiot light and a sightglass to protect the unwary. The oil consumption seemed to vary but was always noticeable, even with 1500 miles between the changes. Starting was always reliable and the carb mounted chokes could be turned off almost immediately. A tank of petrol lasted about 140 miles before reserve, which neatly coincided with my tolerance of the seat.
After a few months it was holiday time, Norway and the Sognefjord area. The additional cost of the bike was only £9 on the ferry from Newcastle to Bergen. We queued up for the ferry, fell in with a mixed bag of other bikes and bikers, ranging from a retired couple on a BMW R100 to a South African couple on the tattiest XT550 known to man, complete with Nambian plates. The kaffir-basher explained that they were legal in the UK, just, and very difficult to trace. The bike had been ridden hard up the length of Africa, along the way the choke had broken, the beast requiring neat petrol on the air-filter to start it!
On the ferry, the Colour Line crew waved us laconically towards a spare place on the side of the car deck and threw us some greasy rope to secure the bikes ourselves. Now I discovered why the cost was only £9 as we hunted around for suitable padding to protect the bike from damage during the 23 hour voyage. Duly secured, we left the bike to find our cabin somewhere between the propeller shaft and the main gearbox, judging by the shuddering and rattling that pervaded the entire deck. Despite force 8 gales, though, the good ship Venus conveyed us very smoothly to Bergen via Stavanger, and a very scenic cruise through some narrow channels.
Customs were cursory, it's worth taking a bottle or two of single malt as they're worth 600-700 Krone (£55-60)! Within three hours ride of Bergen you can be in the most spectacular scenery in Northern Europe. The Noggies have just renumbered all their major roads, so it's worth buying a newish map (the best are Kappelens-Kate, available over here).
The panniers were surprisingly capacious but any attempt to exceed their weight limit when riding two-up was rewarded with very soggy handling. Worse, the bike is built down to a budget and there is only one front disc. Touring, with any load at all, all this rapidly becomes an obstacle to any kind of progress. The bike is simply underbraked and I found myself using the rear brake quite heavily to prevent heart attacks. My wife and I are quite compact, so the seat was adequately comfy. The grab-handle was well placed. Loaded up, a lot more throttle abuse is necessary and in hilly country there's a lot of gearchanging, which detracts from looking at the scenery.
In the summer, all the Norwegian roads are open but the weather is very changeable. It can be scorching or it can pelt down for weeks. Ride to somewhere you fancy, look for the campsite symbol on the map and call in. There are thousands of hytte, or log cabins, dotted throughout the whole of Norway. They range in facilities from basic to luxurious with costs to match. Typically, a hut to sleep four in comfy bunks with cooking facilities, electric heating and lights costs between £9 and £15 a night.
Camping sites are plentiful and cheap, no need to book ahead and if you stay for more than a night in the same place discounts are available. The Norwegians are friendly, very pro-British, they haven't forgotten WW2 and they love the chance to practise their English. Talking of the war, the natives must feel quite threatened during the summer as German tanks are plentiful on the roads. Well, at least mobile homes are, they are everywhere, each with its obligatory two bicycles strapped on the back, belching out diesel fumes, causing the innocent Noggie cagers all kinds of delays and generally recreating history. Luckily, most freight travels by ship, so there are few lorries. The fat Krauts can easily be circumvented on a bike. The Noggies have long memories and dislike the Germans, who have to speak English in order to communicate.
Daytime headlamps are compulsory. I wondered why, in the land of the midnight sun, until the first tunnel. Norway has thousands of tunnels. It's the only way for them to build the roads, which cling to their steep sided fjords and they spend millions each year excavating more, so it's only reasonable that they don't waste any more money on lighting. It's quite an experience to plunge into the complete darkness and bone numbing coldness of a Norwegian tunnel. If you're lucky, it will be one with reflectors along the sides.
There's a very famous tunnel, which forms a complete circle as it descends 750 feet, just like a helter-skelter. A couple of years back, a Swedish coach loaded with kids had brake failure as it entered. The driver tried everything to lose speed, including scraping the sides along the walls. He was saved the bother when the whole plot overturned, bursting into flames and killing everyone on board...
Tunnels aside, Norwegian roads vary hugely in quality but are generally of the twisty A-road category but can change with almost no warning into single track as the road wends its way along a fjord. There are quite a number of toll roads, as well, but these are usually unmade and shaly. A school kid on summer holiday will take your 10NOK (£1) and wave you on to maybe 30 miles of deserted trail riding in the most stunning scenery imaginable. I've never done much trail stuff but reckon Norway is a hell of a good place to do it, but not on a newish XJ600S.
The Diversion coped well with the touring role. It had adequate power for two-up riding in hilly terrain but is underbraked, as I mentioned before. The saddle is comfortable enough to take for about two hours before needing a break and the touring screen fitted kept off the worst of the weather. In Norway, the opportunities for speed are limited to short bursts on the better A-road equivalents, most of the time it’s twisty stuff. On average I got 48-50mpg over there, but I wasn't trying to save gas. This was despite frequent gearchanges needed to keep the willing but modest power plant on the boil. The six speed gearbox is a delight to use and most of the up changes can be done clutchless.
Back at home, the Diversion was a very useful commuter. It could effectively be forgotten once on the move as it was so unobtrusive in the way it did things. It's to be recommended for anyone needing that type of transport but especially to those who have just passed their test; it's the sort of bike that instils confidence in the rider. The low mass and seat height make it ideal for small people and the reliability and low running costs will suit many budgets. You can expect to pay upwards of £2000 for a decent one secondhand and a bit more from a dealer, but they are quite scarce used as people are hanging on to them. I thinks it's a better bargain than the old XJ600 and is certainly more usable than the Kawa 550 Zephyr. I don’t have my Diversion any longer, I outgrew it and fell for the charms of its bigger brother, the TDM850, which seduced me with its massive torque and anarchical looks - I look forward to visiting Norway on it. But for many, the Diversion will be a bike for the long term.
PKS