You'd think that they'd put a good seat on a trial bike, wouldn't you? A nice sensible upright riding position, big fuel tank, some plastic for rider protection and that big vertical twin engine with bags of midrange......it should've added up to a brilliant long distance tourer but the whole experience was ruined by the way my 14 stone flattened out the seat, leaving me sitting on hard edged plastic. As much fun as being lacerated by a knife wielding skinhead.
The Super Tenere isn't really a trail bike. Its looks are so weird that I'm not sure what it really is! The acres of plastic makes it look bigger than it really is, with a dry mass of 430lbs, not bad for a watercooled, DOHC, ten valve vertical twin. Yamaha claim 70 horses at 7500rpm but either they're lying or the plastic has the aerodynamic efficiency of a brick shit house - the bike runs out of puff at the ton, topping out at 110mph.
It didn't really matter, the comfort level, seat aside, doesn't work much above 80mph, the riding position is just too upright for going any faster for any length of time. Besides, at 90mph the bike begins to wallow on its long travel suspension, doesn't like those long, fast motorway sweepers at all, meandering around in its lane like a drunk in search of somewhere to throw up a curry.
The Tenere's handling was a weird mixture. It seemed to go well in traffic, hard on the throttle and, in turn, the brakes, the wide bars allowing the bike to be whipped through the cars. But at a walking pace the Ten felt top heavy, would easily catch out those short of leg (I'm over six feet, found the riding position good), who'd find themselves suddenly falling off.
A little bit of care and attention in the early days pays off later in mastery of the machine. Practice makes perfect. Country road work's quite good, the tall seat letting me look over hedgerows to see what was coming - saved me from bumping into a tractor twice, these bovine farm hands drive like they own the countryside. The tyres squirm over bumpy corners but more or less held their line, the mono-cross back end being a touch more proficient than the forks, although in their praise the latter were fitted with gaiters and thus needed no attention.
Quite a lot of practice was needed to perfect the gearchange, about on a par with an old BMW boxer, Clunk, clunk, clunk every change. If that wasn't bad enough, there was enough slop in the transmission to make less than 2500 revs in the taller gears akin to taking a hammer to the engine, forcing me to use the gearbox when I would've much preferred to exalt in the low speed torque of the engine.
With 50mph on the clock there wasn't much point changing down from fifth, just wind on the throttle and enjoy the surge forwards as those big pistons hammered through their short strokes and the hi-tech cylinder head did its business. Staying away from the bottom and top of the rev range provided smooth running, two gear driven balancer shafts taking the bite out of the primary vibes. Unlike the old British twins, the reciprocating masses must've been pared right down using the latest in CAD techniques. For a big vertical twin the Tenere's smooth.
After about six months cursing the seat, I pulled it off, tore the cover off and cut up some high density foam. I glued it all back together, but it wasn't perfect, there was something wrong with its basic shape. With my bulk aboard there was about six inches left for the passenger, who usually ended up having their thighs reshaped by the grab-handles on the side or even half sitting on the neat rack. The bike was not popular with my women friends, which meant I usually ended riding into the distance on my own. Violin time!
Having a six gallon petrol tank to grip over bumpy going was quite useful, its massive bulk making me feel like I was part of the bike rather than merely perched atop it. I usually bettered 50mpg, although it was possible to go down to 40mpg. The only problem with the six gallon tank was that when full the top heaviness became a bit dangerous, the whole bike feeling rather queasy. I usually kept below the four gallon mark, which still gave a 200 mile range, more than enough for even the renovated seat.
One element of the Yam's riding position was that it was easy to stand up on the pegs to relieve the bum-ache, a throwback to its off-road illusions. I did actually try a few mild trails, but on road orientated Michelin tyres there wasn't an excess of grip. The back tyre would whip from side to side if the throttle wasn't caressed the same way you'd go at a sixteen year old virgin. I had muscle and long legs to fight the bike when it wanted to fall over, midgets would find themselves buried under the machine when it suddenly let loose. Don't even think about riding on mud or river beds, not unless you want to test the resilience of the plastic (quite good, as it happens) and the human body (wear body armour).
I hardly used the brakes off-road, relied on engine braking even though that was accompanied by lots of transmission wailing. The Ten had twin front discs and a singular rear. Unfortunately, the brakes never worked very well nor very predictably. The back became very jerky, which was traced to a warped disc (at 18000 miles) but as I rarely used it I decided just to ignore its existence (the MOT tester didn't notice). The front went through pads in about 4000 miles, an astonishing figure given the lack of high speed braking, maybe a deliberate design fault to compensate for the ease with which the long travel forks can be put down on their stops. Wet weather provided many moments of incredulity whilst I waited for them to work.
Remedial action was taken in the form of EBC pads, new fluid and Goodridge hose, but resulted in only a marginal improvement. I took off the disc covers, hoping to improve the cooling but that made absolutely no difference. I kept bleeding the system, which helped a little. In the end I just became used to the brakes and compensated for their failings.
The back disc eventually seized up, causing the wheel to hop all over the place. A month later the spokes began to break up and I had to go home courtesy of the AA. With a wrecked rear wheel and brake some radical action was needed - a visit to a breaker where a drum braked wheel was found that would take the rear axle. The brake was a bit indifferent but worked better than the disc.
That happened at 39000 miles. The engine must be commended because all I'd done since buying the 1991 model with 6500 miles on the clock was change the oil and filter every few thousand miles. A nasty bit of design was that it was a dry sump engine with a separate oil tank, a pathetic throwback to the forties. Sophisticated electronic ignition, auto-tensioner, a ten valve head that was still within service limits and twin carbs that stayed resolutely in balance, provided an impressive engine package.
The original chain had gone to 11000 miles but subsequent O-ring chains couldn't last for more than 8000 miles, even when I went to the trouble and expense of buying a new set of Yamaha sprockets. One chain only lasted for 5000 miles and chains couldn't be pushed beyond a certain limit of wear because the gearbox became full of false neutrals.
The gearbox became no worse over time. The same couldn't be said for the finish. Despite living in the house when not in use, and being cleaned lovingly every week, at times the bike seemed to be dissolving into corrosion before my eyes. The black '91 model helps some of bulk fade away but it really is an ugly bike without rhyme or reason, none of the lines (of engine, frame or plastic) matching. The rust and alloy rot just made it look all the sillier. By the time it was three years old I was forced to do a strip, respray and beadblast some of the alloy.
I've seen some real rat Tenere's with less than 20,000 miles, which perhaps explains why older ones can be had for silly money. With the toughness of the engine (early ones could crack the oil tank, drain the motor of lubricant resulting in a terminal seizure....), a near wrecked looking chassis shouldn't put you off if the price is right. It's such an ugly bike that it might even benefit if all the cycle parts were dumped and a bit of mixing and matching was indulged via the breakers.
From the seat, the Ten's a fun bike to ride, that big twin engine giving it loads of character. It's not a serious off-road hack, though it'll roll across the odd roundabout if necessary. The engine's tough and the chassis can be bodged with bits from breakers. There's a great bike trying to get out, and the used prices make it excellent value.
Keith Garrand