After reading Culler’s account of riding a totally shagged Wing around
New South Wales, I feel some more information regarding the somewhat
interesting aspects of riding in Australia’s warranted. My own story is in a slightly more civilized, less drug and alcohol abused, state of mind - well, most of the time, anyway.
The Yam in question belonged to a mate of mine who’s become a rather successful businessman and now has hardly any time to ride any of his bikes. The bastard also has a Harris Magnum collecting dust in his warehouse. A suitable fee was arranged and the transfer of appropriate paperwork took place.
When I picked the TDM up it had only some 5000km on the clock, combined with a rather thick layer of dust. After cleaning the bloody thing off we tried the starter to see if anything would happen. The neutral light was on but nobody was home so we decided to jump start the bike. Off comes the seat - where's the bloody battery? God knows... my mate was overseas and the poor girl in his office was no help but that’s not a problem as she just likes to ride pillion.
I knew the bike had a battery... after some ball scratching, I decided the plastic had to come off. To get at the battery the bikini fairing had to be torn off - yes all of it - then the tank, three bolts not one (why is nothing easy any more?). Lo and behold, living under the tank is one battery, cowering behind the air-box right above the engine - a great place to look the bloody thing.
But my troubles were just beginning. After extracting the bloody thing I had to buy a new one. Fortunately, a bike shop was just down the road. Away I went like a lamb to the slaughter. The guys didn’t have one in stock but directed me to another store. I rolled up expecting to pay 50 dollars, or so, but no, some evil little bastard at Yamaha probably had a great aunt at Hiroshima the day it was fried and had figured that the motorcycling western world would pay the price for its deeds. 150 dollars for a fucking battery. I felt like the bastards had just had me over the counter; the gay community having a field day.
A few strange looking cigs later, I was again feeling at peace with the world. The bike was back together, happily chugging away. For those of you who may not be familiar with the TDM it’s a strange looking beast with a fairing that blends nicely with the tank, twin headlamps sticking out. Rather unique looking, Yam’s the only Jap manufacturer to really address the super-moto style in any way, shape or form. Even now, the bike still turns heads some five years after its release, and I still have people asking me about this strange looking big twin.
Now technically in Oz if the bike or any vehicle’s registration has expired for more than six months, a new plate’s assigned to the bike, or whatever. Oh well, I didn’t know, did I? Talk about a license to play, disregard speed limits, etc. I pulled a similar stunt in New Zealand before selling a car to some French geezer, so if the poor bastard returns to NZ he will get his collar felt by the authorities for failing to pay several speeding fines. Ain't life a bitch some days.
So I do get the bike MOT’d, roll up at the RTA so I can get the bike registered - the system here is a mix between the American and English methods, but one without the hassle - to get the rego sticker (similar to a tax disc but to the day not month), this gets rid of the lines of grannies on pension day. You need third party green slip insurance ($350) - covers personal injury claims. Regular insurance was a grand for fully comp.
The MOT’s $12; two forms of ID are needed. The bike’s inspected to make sure it ain’t stolen. The rego fee’s ($175) related to vehicle mass, plus a two and half percent levy that’s based on the purchase price. Expensive but at least fuel’s only 32 pence/litre.
The Yam in question belonged to a mate of mine who’s become a rather successful businessman and now has hardly any time to ride any of his bikes. The bastard also has a Harris Magnum collecting dust in his warehouse. A suitable fee was arranged and the transfer of appropriate paperwork took place.
When I picked the TDM up it had only some 5000km on the clock, combined with a rather thick layer of dust. After cleaning the bloody thing off we tried the starter to see if anything would happen. The neutral light was on but nobody was home so we decided to jump start the bike. Off comes the seat - where's the bloody battery? God knows... my mate was overseas and the poor girl in his office was no help but that’s not a problem as she just likes to ride pillion.
I knew the bike had a battery... after some ball scratching, I decided the plastic had to come off. To get at the battery the bikini fairing had to be torn off - yes all of it - then the tank, three bolts not one (why is nothing easy any more?). Lo and behold, living under the tank is one battery, cowering behind the air-box right above the engine - a great place to look the bloody thing.
But my troubles were just beginning. After extracting the bloody thing I had to buy a new one. Fortunately, a bike shop was just down the road. Away I went like a lamb to the slaughter. The guys didn’t have one in stock but directed me to another store. I rolled up expecting to pay 50 dollars, or so, but no, some evil little bastard at Yamaha probably had a great aunt at Hiroshima the day it was fried and had figured that the motorcycling western world would pay the price for its deeds. 150 dollars for a fucking battery. I felt like the bastards had just had me over the counter; the gay community having a field day.
A few strange looking cigs later, I was again feeling at peace with the world. The bike was back together, happily chugging away. For those of you who may not be familiar with the TDM it’s a strange looking beast with a fairing that blends nicely with the tank, twin headlamps sticking out. Rather unique looking, Yam’s the only Jap manufacturer to really address the super-moto style in any way, shape or form. Even now, the bike still turns heads some five years after its release, and I still have people asking me about this strange looking big twin.
Now technically in Oz if the bike or any vehicle’s registration has expired for more than six months, a new plate’s assigned to the bike, or whatever. Oh well, I didn’t know, did I? Talk about a license to play, disregard speed limits, etc. I pulled a similar stunt in New Zealand before selling a car to some French geezer, so if the poor bastard returns to NZ he will get his collar felt by the authorities for failing to pay several speeding fines. Ain't life a bitch some days.
So I do get the bike MOT’d, roll up at the RTA so I can get the bike registered - the system here is a mix between the American and English methods, but one without the hassle - to get the rego sticker (similar to a tax disc but to the day not month), this gets rid of the lines of grannies on pension day. You need third party green slip insurance ($350) - covers personal injury claims. Regular insurance was a grand for fully comp.
The MOT’s $12; two forms of ID are needed. The bike’s inspected to make sure it ain’t stolen. The rego fee’s ($175) related to vehicle mass, plus a two and half percent levy that’s based on the purchase price. Expensive but at least fuel’s only 32 pence/litre.
I was finally legit. The national speed limit’s the same as here but in town it’s 35mph - disregard unless the police are around. So far, I've had no problems as far as riding is concerned, although riding at night, especially in the country, is to be avoided at all cost. Roos mainly feed at dusk but are active all night. Some poor English guy was killed when he hit an emu. Everything wild that you can hit here is BIG. An average male emu’s about five feet tall and a big red kangaroo can get up to some six or seven feet tall and weigh something in the region of half a metric ton.
A couple of local riders told me the following story. While riding on the local scratching road that I just happen to live on, when going around a blind corner the first rider ran over the tail end of a snake that covered one half of the road. Being somewhat pissed off with this, the poor reptile had a go at the following bike before disappearing into the bushes. It should be easy to spot as it has Pirelli stamped on its back.
The Yam handles the twisty stuff with a certain aplomb and so far I’ve only reached the outer limits of the tyres, without getting anything down. Suspension feedback’s excellent. The bike can be drifted without too much effort, although the wife got a bit pissed off when I started sliding the thing with her on the back. At the moment I’m looking for tyres with tread on the sidewalls.
I’ve found the bike to be very user friendly in its riding position, with nice wide bars, a fairing that actually works and a reasonably comfortable seat. Range works out at 150 miles before reserve with at least another 20 miles before running dry. This is not a country in which to run out of fuel, as you may end up with a 50 mile walk in a hundred degrees of heat. A good way to die of heat exhaustion if ever I heard of one.
If you're never ridden in a hot and humid climate you're in for a nasty surprise. One day I was riding in 90 degree heat with about 80% humidity, doing between 70 and 90mph - when I got home I was still drenched in sweat. For those of you who may wish to ride from, say, Adelaide to Darwin, across the red centre you can get into training by sitting in a sauna, dressed in all your bike gear with a hairdryer pointed at your face while a friend throws sand, flies, stones and shit at you (as in when trucks (aka road trains) go past in the opposite direction. You can drink up to seven litres of water a day and still not piss for a week.
Not a bad environment to ride a bike in, eh? The oil's specially blended for the Oz climate - these guys aren't joking, oil has a bloody tough time of it here. The Yam’s always turning on its engine fan in town as the ambient heat combined with engine temperature makes for a hot cookie. What really beats the shit out of me is how BMW riders survive, these guys are easy to spot, just look for the ones with the shrivelled up feet.
With these concerns in mind, I serviced the Yam. Strip the bike again. Hinge the rad forward to change the plugs. Drain the radiator before doing the valve’s shims. Only four bolts to undo to remove the rocker box cover. The air filter’s a paper item here. The shims were within tolerance, no wear on the camshafts. Changing the oil and filter was amusing. The oil filter's housed under the engine with its own housing, held in place by some eight bolts. Two engine drain bolts and the oil tank accessible via the seat.
Over the last 3000km the chain's needed a slight tweak but that’s all. Tyre wear has been even all over the rubber, down to the local twisty roads with decent cambers. The power delivery’s very smooth from the big twin cylinder mill, no noticeable steps in the cam, just a nice linear flow of power. When riding you can get fairly lazy and just flick between two gears, using engine braking most of the time.
The all steel frame’s nice and stiff, so early Jap white knuckle cornering tactics are for me now a thing of the past, no matter how fast I stuff the bike into a corner the suspension gives heaps of feedback and the OE tyres are more than up to the job without letting go. I have found a certain amount of twitchiness on over banding during really hot days, more to do with it melting than being slippery.
This on a road that goes from sea level to say 2000 feet, with heaps of switchbacks, fast corners and the odd straight, so you can nail it just nicely. The road here’s known as the old Pacific Highway, the fun stuff starts just north of a place called Hornsby and goes on through to a place called Gosforth, then the road to Wollombi, then more twisty stuff. I've heard riders talking in revered tones about the Oakiy Highway that’s some 270km long, much in the same light as the Pacific Highway, although in the next few months I’m taking the Princess Highway south towards Victoria and the Great Ocean Road. This has to be compared to the Pacific Highway that runs from Seattle to San Francisco, a mere 1000 mile ride that will at times take your breath away. But that’s another story...
All in all, though, I’ve found the TDM to be a delight to ride. Nice and light on the steering, with no tendency to drop into corners, although you do need to wind the rear shock up a bit when carrying a pillion. This causes a tendency towards understeer, so your riding style has to compensate or a trip into the weeds will follow rather rapidly. Apart from that, everything else on the bike’s reasonably well designed and I’m rather partial to the bungee anchor points that go over the rear indicators, as well as another two that rotate out from under the pillion seat - at least this saves the paint.
The brakes are the normal brick wall effect, with all the braking being done with a mere two fingers. Even if you screw up in corners, the brakes can still be used when well heeled over. Says a lot for the stiffness of the frame, suspension and tyres, as all of this can be done mid bend even with a pillion on board, without any changes of underwear or mild heart attacks. You could almost say that new bikes are too civilized and the kids are coming up through the ranks without the grey hairs and adrenaline rushes that we experienced during the seventies on Jap bikes with Teflon tyres and soggy suspension.
With the somewhat more user friendly climate here, rust and corrosion are not a problem, so I can't really comment on such things. In the wet I did find that the braking was not affected by the wet weather lag that afflicted the earlier seventies and eighties bikes that I've owned in the past, whilst no real horror stories regarding OE tyres. Rear tyre wear is reasonable, should last 10000 miles plus. Overheating or at least getting hot is only a problem I've had when riding around Sydney, all other times the bike’s temperature gauge only rises a small amount and will probably run fairly cool in Europe. Good for engine longevity though I have heard of valves needing replacing at between 60 to 80000km, due to valve stretch. Linked to riders staying in the city and constant high temperature - stainless steel valves help! Another hassle is disc wear when using non-standard pads.
Overall, motorcycling in Oz is a great experience, with lots of wild and wonderful scenery and a good supply of used bikes in standard condition. There are even pristine RD350LCs floating around, as well as loads of big Japs, such as the GS and GSX. Rat bikes are rare but they do turn up. The best buys mostly turn up outside Sydney.
Nigel Fox