Sunday, 15 July 2012

Honda XRV750 Africa Twin

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