A farm track was my first bit
of off-road riding on the Africa Twin. Equipped with a big 750cc
vee-twin, that had more than a passing resemblance to the old
VT500, I wasn't too scared of becoming bogged down on the mud
infested track. Developing 62 horses at 7500rpm there was also
an excess of torque from 1500rpm up. It only had, and only needed,
a five speed gearbox, first sufficient for very slow riding in
town or on the rough.
With its huge expanse of GRP,
and a full five gallons of petrol on board, the Honda felt a bit
top heavy as the tyres squelched over the mud, especially with
a 34 inch seat height and my feet being far from flat on the ground.
The odd rock was absorbed without any traumas, the forks were
equally brilliant at fending off the depreciations of the pot-holes
on the tarmac.
As the road twisted hard to the
right I found myself in a little trouble. The front tyre thought
it was an ideal moment to skid away. The tip of my foot whacked
the track as I tried to flip the bike back upright. It weighs
440lbs dry, nearer 500lbs with fuel, oil and coolant added. Once
it starts going it needs a hell of a lot of muscle to put back
on course even on the tarmac. On that muddy track I was way out
of my depth. The Africa Twin and I parted company.
It was so slippery that no serious
damage was done to either myself or the bike. The farmer took
that moment to pop up out of nowhere, screaming abuse at me whilst
waving a shotgun around. He hated motorcyclists coming anywhere
near his land. He didn't help me as I tried to lift the Honda
up, too heavy and awkward. I think the real Paris Dakar version
is probably 150lbs lighter.
When I finally pulled the XRV
upright, I was more than thankful for the electric starter, but
not for the way it turned over for five minutes before it fired
into life. The farmer was livid by then, the shotgun pointed at
me as we skidded along the track back on to the road proper. I
tooted the horn, revved the engine hard in neutral and then did
a 100 yard wheelie, just to show him who was boss!
I'd had an on-off relationship
ever since I got hold of it. It was, for instance, brilliant for
hustling through town at a fierce pace. Brakes, acceleration and
general handling ability were on a par with anything else and
the vee-twin thrum was quite intoxicating. The ease with which
I could get the front wheel off the ground also added some insanity
to the commuter chores. My favourite act of anarchy was roaring
up on to the pedestrian precinct with the front wheel a couple
of feet off the ground, the wheel waggling around a little and
a continuous blast on the horn keeping the peds in their proper
place.
On the other hand, sometimes the
Honda would refuse to start. It'd churn away on the starter for
ages with the odd bang in the exhaust. Then I'd go away for an
hour and she'd fire up first time when I came back. This really
incensed me, made me scream off up the road on the back wheel.
The engine was good for low end grunt but would also rev very
hard to 8000rpm. There was absolutely no problem seeing off hot
cars and most other motorcycles up to 80-90mph.
Like too many modern motorcycles,
when I wanted to do something simple, like change the plugs to
see if they were causing the starting hassles, it needed thirty
minutes work tearing off the tank, seat, etc. Even then the back
cylinder's plug wasn't exactly accessible - those of a nervous
disposition would be shaking at the thought of stripping a thread.
Even more hassle is involved checking the three valves per cylinder,
but to be fair, in 9000 miles they never needed any adjustment.
Even with a brand new set of plugs
the starting problem persisted. The one dealer I took it to, in
complete frustration, couldn't replicate the refusal to start
so couldn't locate the cause. As he charged me £50 just
for looking at it and refused to hand the machine back until I'd
paid up, I was pretty pissed off. Especially when the next day
the engine was stone dead. I started pulling and pushing at what
wiring I could grab, figuring it was maybe a loose wire. Aha!
The bugger started first press of the button. That was the end
of the poor starting.
But not the end of my travails.
My second off road excursion consisted of following a friend on
an XT600 up a mountain. This time it was dry, the suspension and
tyres having more of a chance over the rocky path. We seemed to
be travelling damn fast, I'd actually clonked up to second gear
with 40mph on the clock. The mountain was becoming so steep that
I thought if I tried to slow down the bike would turn over backwards.
I saw a flash of red as my mate
ahead neared the top of the mountain, braking hard and slewing
sideways. Before I had a chance to follow suit we were over the
summit and flying through the air. I knew enough to keep the front
wheel up, we crashed down into some thick bushes after dropping
about ten feet. The landing almost broke my back. Worse still,
I was in these shoulder high bushes with a dead motor and no apparent
way out.
I could hear my mate roaring with
laughter. When he recovered he scrabbled down to help me push
the Honda through the dense bushes on to another track. The bike
looked like someone had gone over it with a wire brush. Shit!
I free-wheeled down the track and bumped the XRV back into life.
The overwhelming impression of
the Honda off-road was of a lumbering rhino charging along destroying
everything in its path. The plastic bits seemed quite tough, taking
the odd tumble without falling apart but it was so heavy that
I was always in fear of not being able to pick it up if we fell
over. For days after that last excursion my back was hell and
I was in a foul temper from the pain.
Other than off-road, the Honda
had a wonderfully relaxed riding position, which with the fairing
was as useful on motorways as it was in town. True, the fairing
lacked width and height but it somehow managed to throw the worst
of the wind blast around my body. Rain was a different matter,
but I'd grown up on naked bikes and was used to wrapping up in
several layers of waterproofs.
The only time I really cursed
the plastic was in heavy sidewinds when the fairing would catch
the breeze, bounce the front end around, giving terrible directional
stability. Despite the long travel suspension, it was usually
pretty stable even on rutted road surfaces, but with the heavy
winds it was wandering over a whole lane's worth of tarmac. I
was caught out twice in that way during a year's riding so it's
by no means a massive problem.
I didn't go any faster than 110mph,
though I felt there was a bit more left in the engine. Beyond
90mph there's a bit of weaving. It wasn't really frightening but
the steering seemed very light and very vague, and if it hit a
bump all hell would break loose. Below 90mph, though, it would
skim over rough surfaces without throwing up any frightening reactions.
It was one way, although involuntary, of keeping my licence in
reasonable shape.
The mass of the bike was the limiting
factor in tight curves. There was plenty of leverage from the
high bars but quite a lot of the excessive mass was carried a
long way from the ground. It wasn't an entirely natural machine
to ride but it was one that responded well to a bit of muscle
and hustle.
Well, most of the time. On one
country road race with an FZ600, I was staying out in front by
taking the Honda over at ridiculous angles and punching the gearbox
back and forth between third and fourth. On one change down it
didn't seem to engage so I whacked it again, found the box in
second gear with a locked up back wheel. The suspension was already
compressed and I was banked far over.
Somehow, I put in an almighty
body twitch, getting the bike vertical as an alternative to falling
off. Unfortunately, the road was still curving away to the left.
Gravel, grass and mud the bike managed to take at 40 to 50mph.
A large ridge it didn't like hitting at 30mph, but I hung on to
the twitching bars, got my toes down and slewed to a halt. I could
feel my heart pounding away, drowning out the thrum of the engine.
There was a two yard long skid
mark left by the locked up wheel and a bloody great dent in the
front rim. I could just about manage to control the bike at 10mph
as we pottered home in a thoroughly disenchanted mood.
There was no way I could find
the cash to buy a Honda rim but managed to have the wheel rebuilt
using a more ubiquitous alloy rim. I was pleased with the fork
gaiters and plastic protecting the front calipers but the bare
O-ring chain, Pro-Link bearings and single rear disc were much
less impressive in terms of potential longevity. The alloy swinging
arm was better than the usual rust trap.
You won't get much more than 45mpg
out of the engine but that apart it's been cheap to run with the
pads, chain and tyres wearing very slowly. In town it's great
fun and it's a capable tourer with good comfort plus a range of
over 200 miles. Off-road it's a bit of a laugh, being shod with
tyres that can't take muddy roads and enough weight to break spines
and spirits.
Alec Doyle