As a graduate of the two stroke screamer school of Japanese industrial colonialism, I approached the potential purchase of Kawasakis non talked about thumper with a small amount of trepidation and an even smaller amount of dosh (courtesy of Norwich Union claims dept).
Like it or not, and most people seemingly do, motorcycles these days are marketed rather than merely sold, and in the case of our sake sipping cousins this usually means today's hot bike needs to look groovy next to the paddock paraphernalia found cluttering the world's race tracks. This being the case, the KLR250 has a pretty mean time of it in the positive vibes department. Put simply, in the scramble for street credibility, quarter litre trailsters got allocated the gate that refused to drop as the five second board was flashed. Which means that Dave Thorpe et al are not to be seen berm busting in Team Green promotional material aboard anything bearing a remote resemblance to the KLR.
Much is made of the sporty derivative of KMXs, KDXs, DTs and TSs. Sadly the upshot of all this is that the KLR is rarely found adorning Kawasaki dealers showrooms, and is even less likely to be found in the secondhand yard. As a consequence, instead of gaining cult status the KLR gets labelled a dullard. The irony is that whilst on (glossy brochure) paper the screamers might leave it standing, on tarmac, turf, sludge or shale it's the KLR which does the leaving.
First impressions were largely favourable, tainted only by the bike’s zero flash rating. The engine is a 250cc watercooled single with double overhead cams, shoehorned into a tubular frame with the usual single shock out back, unprotected linkages and all, and a small white tank squeezed between the headstock and a large red seat. It oozes what Bob Dylan in 1966 termed business-like anger (admittedly he did say this before he threw his Bonnie down the road, breaking his neck in the process). Fellow yank George Bush might saddle the KLR with a term like functionality and we would sort of know what he meant.
It looks as inscrutable as the race that built it. A few examples for the unconvinced: the trick frame is paint free, the radiator shrouds don’t have the angled aggression of pseudo crossers but they work (better because a sturdy mesh grill covers the vulnerable front). A dinky electric fan cuts in when the revs are high and speed is slow, as when chugging over mother nature’s corrugated bits of terra firms or rumbling through a sprawling new town clogged with caravans. A grab handle (not really a rail) on the right side helps two up jaunts; a two up blast to Mallory from Stafford (50 miles) with big Phil (the Poly prop forward) pillion was well manageable The seat is comfortable. too, unusual for a trail bike - even the big 'uns! What can loosely be described as the ornamentation is well up to Kawasaki standard, is above that of Suzuki and Yamaha and as good as that on Hondas.
Mirrors are versatile and vibe tree, switches are big and positive, the horn would startle a charging rhino and a bar mounted choke lever makes starting a doddle. second or third kick in any weather. Plastics are just bendy enough to give under a moderate prang and the tail-light is neatly sculptured into the rear fender, not stuck on a tatty black bracket like some. A cute and surprisingly spacious rear fender bag serves to hold your spare inner tubes. cables, plugs, bulbs and fuses should you decide to enter the Banja Rally or your egg butties and tin of Fame if spectating.
The alloy wheel rims are still spotless after 18000 miles. The sturdy rubber fork gaiters actually serve to protect the seals unlike the KMX versions whose chief function is to attract and trap grime. Overall finish is still good despite many off road runs and riding the beast through most kinds of weather.
To describe the engine as flexible would mean having to employ teams of top academic scholars to redefine the word. On my first post purchase trip I must have done 20 miles before realising it had six gears. There is a staggering amount of low down grunt, it starts to seriously pull from 3000 revs and will continue to do so way past the 9000rpm red line. If you are used to a throttle against the stop stroker, prepared to be dazzled. Hills and bumpy stuff disappear effortlessly. Engine braking is a bit of new concept to this lad so imagine my surprise when I feel the effects of the decelerator - yes, two cables emerge from the twisty thing on the bars. If you are not doing things as smoothly as the engine, frame and suspension would like, the front disc offers much bite as a trailie could like; the rear drum may look cool but gives ample back up.
The KLR is, by trail bike terms, more forgiving than any smitten lover. When exiting a roundabout or taking a ninety degree turn at too fast a speed and too high a gear, simply roll off the power, listen to the sonorous exhaust note change to a dull whine and nurse it gently on to a proper line, wait for the throbba-throbba to pick up (you won't be waiting for long) and away you go. A cinch.
As a long distance tourer it has obvious limitations, down to the sit up and scream riding position, but 70 - 75mph is not much of a problem. It's easy enough to get 80mph on the clock, any more needs a combinion of favourable conditions, and a willingness to take the engine way into the red in fourth before changing up to the next two gears. 95mph is possible at extreme abuse, and I suppose I might believe somewho told me they did the ton, down a steep hill with a gale force wind behind. A tankful will return 110-120 miles before the two litres of reserve are required, that's 50mpg plus.
Town riding is brilliant, with all that low speed torque and the natural narrowness of a single cylinder engine, there is very little that can keep up with a KLR250 ridden in a spirited way. It snakes through heavy traffic jams, aided by the relatively high riding position letting you see over the cars. The ease with which the front end can be raised makes sudden excursions on to pavements or the odd bit of innocent greenery a mere moment’s consideration.
So what of the gripes? Well, the headlight is not up to post dusk riding on anything other than well lit roads, the sidestand is flimsy, unlike the purposeful jobs on the KLR600 and 650, and the inclusion of handgrips and disc/fork leg covers would be nice The petrol cap isn't lockable, though its hugeness enables gloved fuel refills, and the enduro bag means there is no luggage rack or bungee provision.
Engine maintenance is pretty minimal, all you really have to do is change the oil, although the top end is slightly dubious so the paranoid would do well to check the valves every 5000 miles or so. The engine doesn't consume any oil between changes so if neglect is your thing this machine is perfect.
Tyres are a personal choice, but usually only last for about 6000 miles a set. My three year old bike came with a Pirelli MT17 Enduro 17' rear which I would suggest is a fag paper's thickness within the letter of the law and nowhere near the spirit, being more knobbly than anything this side of Namur.
The KLR250 produces 28 dark stalking horses, rather fittingly the latest version is supplied by Kawasaki in sexy black. It’s a real contradiction. The bike media describe it variously as mild mannered (which it can be, though frequently isn’t), peaky (a nonsense term, presumably a reference to the smooth power banded engine) and a workhorse (which takes away much of the sophisticated mechanics and sheer pleasure available at a knock down price).
The KLR250 is as competent and sophisticated a trail bike as the KR1-S is a road racer. Only Yamaha's XT350 comes close and it costs more for less. In the real world of Monday to Friday drudgery the KLR offers a very pleasurable means of transport, a fact too easily overlooked in glossy brochures which feed those fantasies to which we are all prone.
Robert Wild