Buyers of modern adventure bikes are truly spoiled for choice these days, with a marketplace crowded with worthy and value-packed options. While the heavyweight adventure bikes tend to steal the limelight – the 1200cc twin-cylinder ‘battleships’ in particular – the middleweight models arguably offer even more ‘adventure’, and for a far lower price. While the biggies will always have their followers, the smaller single-cylinder machines and twins are lighter and more manageable, and therefore appealing to a broader spectrum of riders. And, after the Bikesales Network crew pointed four such machines at the Victorian High Country recently, it became clear that there’s a middleweight adventure bike to suit just about anyone.
The plan was simple: take four diverse machines on a two-day ride that was fairly typical of adventure bike use, and try to weigh up each machine’s pros and cons on both road and trail. Cue the sound of panic braking as we hit our first hurdle: what exactly is an adventure bike, anyway?
A MATTER OF DEFINITION
Defining the term ‘adventure bike’ is no easier than defining the term ‘adventure’ – it’s highly subjective, and so open to interpretation. One person’s adventure is another’s nightmare is another’s walk in the park – it’s all about what you want to do, where you want to do it, and how long (and how far) you want to do it for.
In a perfect world we would have taken these bikes across Australia. However, reality intervened as it so often does – in the form of wives, children, employers and finances. Our revised ‘epic lite’ saw us take in about 1100km over two days through Victoria’s High Country, with an overnight stop in Omeo. Over those two days we traversed city streets, dirt roads, bush tracks, winding blacktop and straight highways, and while our loads were relatively light, we still got a good appreciation of the bikes to hand.
The team comprised myself (Rod Chapman), Bikesales Network managing editor Mark ‘Mav’ Fattore, Murray ‘Muzza’ Sharp (of Sharp Racing Accessories) and Paul ‘Jungle’ Burrows, who has been riding for more decades than he’ll admit to and who knows a thing or two about traillies. The steeds? Kawasaki’s venerable KLR650 (the elder statesman), Yamaha’s XTZ660 Ténéré (the brash upstart), BMW’s G 650 GS Sertão (the marque’s born-again adventure single), and Suzuki’s V-Strom 650 ABS (the smooth multi, that prefers its ‘adventure’ served in modest portions).
Of course, there are many other options available in this niche – bike’s like Yamaha’s XT660R and Suzuki’s DR650SE spring immediately to mind – and Husqvarna’s all-new TR 650 Terra in the pipeline. We’ll try to grab those models and go for a blat a bit down the track.
THE ESCAPE
The V-Strom really does stick out here: a V-twin among the singles, it has the lowest seat height, the least legroom, the least suspension travel, and the broadest seat. It’s also the only bike with cast-alloy rims (instead of spoked rims) and it’s the fastest bike of the bunch. As we escaped Melbourne’s peak-hour melee and pushed along the serpentine tar that dissects the Yarra Ranges to the city’s east, it was clearly the most road-focussed bike of the group, not that the singles were exactly struggling to keep up.
Through the Black Spur, the V-Strom quickly endeared itself to me with its beautifully refined engine, taut chassis and effective suspension and brakes. That 90-degree V-twin is a real highlight; Suzuki has sold a gazillion of these things in SV650, SV650S and SFV650 (Gladius) form for good reason. There’s a lovely lilt to the V-twin’s beat, and it provides a linear surge of useable grunt all the way through to its 10,000rpm redline. It’s the engine’s flexibility that wins the day, however – there’s enough poke for rapid overtakes at open-road speeds, yet you can be lazy if you want to, just short-shifting and riding its torque.
This performance is backed up by thoroughly competent suspension and brakes. The springs are only adjustable for preload front and rear, but on the tar they simply work, letting the bike hold a rock-solid line through the bends and making the most of its ample ground clearance.
The brakes have plenty of power and feel, and the V-Strom remains remarkably composed when the anchors really dig in. The ABS is a worthy safety net but the fact it can’t be switched off didn’t bode well for the loose stuff. With fairly conservative Bridgestone Trail Wing tyres and the least wheel travel of the four (150mm front, 159mm rear), I knew the V-Strom would be a top performer on the road, but the upcoming dirt might well be a different story…
Technical summary – Suzuki V-Strom 650 ABS
After a satisfying breakfast at the Marysville Bakery (which in my case incorporated an early lunch of a meat pie, too – I’ve seen too many dual-sport comparo itineraries go pear-shaped!), we headed out on the Woods Point road, leaving the still-stark post-Black-Saturday landscape behind us. Before too long, the tar makes way for dirt and a little-used road that services some tiny but picturesque outposts on the way north to Mansfield.
Home mainly to 4WD traffic and the odd logging truck, the slick mud we experienced on our big-bore adventure bike comparo back in winter was a memory, replaced with bone-dry powder and thick, choking dust. We’d swapped mounts back at Marysville and I now found myself aboard Yamaha’s Ténéré, which was lapping up the dusty, gravelly conditions.
Technical summary – Yamaha Ténéré
DESERT DUELLER
With tough, take-no-prisoners styling the Ténéré certainly looks the part – Yamaha’s Dakar heritage is there for all to see. The off-road focus is underlined by the most aggressive tyres of the bunch – Dunlop D606s – and these road-legal knobbies offered an extra degree of confidence in the looser sections, even if the chunkier tread blocks lost their advantage on the sections of hard-pack clay.
Hopping from the V-Strom to the Ténéré was an eye-opener in terms of ergonomics. You sit ‘in’ the V-Strom but ‘on’ the Ténéré, and the latter has an exceptionally spacious ride position with a heap of legroom and a short reach to the handlebars. At 188cm (6ft 2in) I like a bit of room to move and the Yamaha was a perfect fit. It felt totally natural when standing up on the ’pegs too – I had to stoop forwards when doing so on the V-Strom – no handlebar risers needed.
It’s a tall thing to throw a leg over but once you’re aboard the 895mm-high seat is compliant and really pretty comfortable, while still narrow enough to allow you to move around with ease on the dirt.
The 660cc single sounds fairly benign (none of these singles had an evocative exhaust note) but the modest tune spat from those two distinctive underseat cans masks some distinctly rapid progress. As you’d expect of a single, the engine’s meaty midrange is where the action is at, although the Ténéré has enough useable punch up top and down low to keep things motoring along nicely should you stray either side of its mid-range.
The suspension is built to handle some punishment – more punishment than we’d dish out on this trip – and it’s just pipped by the Sertão in terms of wheel travel (210mm on both bikes at the front, but 205mm – versus 210mm for the Sertão – at the back). The brakes were giving a good account of themselves too; the twin-disc front stoppers were powerful but progressive, affording a good level of feel on the dirt.
TRAILS AND TRIBULATIONS
After a quick bike swap at Matlock (little more than a speck on the map) we split from the main dirt road to follow 4WD tracks up to Licola and then Dargo (well, that was the plan). I was now on the Sertão and on tracks very close to where the model’s national press launch was held in early 2012, and while I knew the Bavarian was born for such conditions, it quickly became clear we’d overstepped the mark with the V-Strom.
The trails here had narrowed to a car width and the track’s surface was strewn with exposed rocks, ruts and tree roots. First the KLR’s numberplate dropped clean off – the vibrations simply saw the metal fracture either side of the two bolts securing it – and then a decent rock flat-spotted the V-Strom’s front rim. It wasn’t bad – not enough to affect the tubeless tyre’s ability to hold air – but it was a timely warning: on the V-Strom anything rougher than a graded dirt road needed to be tackled with extreme care.
Five minutes later, I rounded a bend to find Muzza crouched by the V-Strom. Following a rut he’d managed to shear off the lower of two bolts that secure the ignition sidestand cut-out switch, bringing his progress to an abrupt end. A couple of zip-ties did the trick, but that exposed oil filter was now looking even more vulnerable. At the forefront on the tar, this ‘soft-roader’ was out of its depth in the dirt, at least in this company.
No such concerns, however, with the BMW. With its standard 860mm seat it’s appreciably easier to mount compared to the Ténéré, but like the V-Strom you sit ‘in’ it, not ‘on’ it. However, its suspension has the greatest wheel travel of the bunch and that travel is controlled beautifully – it takes bigger hits in its stride on the dirt yet it remains wonderfully composed on the road, even under heavy brakes.
Technical summary – BMW G 650 GS Sertão
While it doesn’t have as much legroom as the Ténéré or KLR (fitting the 900mm accessory seat would help here) it was a pretty good fit for me when standing on the ’pegs. The standard Metzeler Tourance EXP rubber performs well – I remember being surprised by just how well these tyres behaved in wet, slippery conditions on the bike’s press launch – and the brakes deliver a good blend of stopping power and feel.
I did have to get into the routine of leaving the ignition on at any trailside stop, however – turning the ignition off resets the bike to its ‘ABS on’ default setting, which means you have to remember to turn it off again before riding off, or risk overshooting that first corner. Turning the system off is a matter of holding down the ABS button for a few seconds when stationary, until the flashing yellow warning light turns solid.
TIME WARPED
Somewhere along the picturesque Mount Selma track, which traces a circuitous route along some scenic ridgelines, we swapped again, and I jumped on the ‘veteran campaigner’ of the assembled crew – Kawasaki’s KLR650. Released in 1987, the KLR is one of very few models that’s somehow managed to allude me throughout 20-plus years of riding bikes; I was actually pretty excited to be sampling it, even if it was the lowest-tech member of the bunch.
Technical summary – Kawasaki KLR650
Throwing a leg over it is like stepping back in time – to an era of carburettors, fuel taps, and analogue-only instrumentation. The ride position is superb for long-haul work, though: bolt upright, with generous legroom and an easy stretch to the ’bars. Despite its claimed 890mm seat height, I thought it actually felt lower, although this was another bike you sit ‘on’, not ‘in’. The seat feels lower because it’s really quite narrow, so it’s easy to get a foot down to the ground. Having said that, it’s not a brilliant perch – what little padding there is gets rock hard fairly quickly (factor an Airhawk seat into the purchase price!).
Regardless, the KLR is still an eminently practical unit on the dirt, with reasonable suspension travel – albeit with a very basic and dated fork and monoshock – and Dunlop Trailmax rubber. The chunky old rubber footpegs look like they’ve stepped straight out of the ’80s; anyone considering an off-road exploration will swap them for beartrap-style items.
The faithful old 651cc single is also showing its age – it’s got none of the zest of the BMW or Yamaha – but it chugs away in a low-stress manner, getting the job done without fuss or fanfare. It feels asthmatic in comparison to the other singles (and certainly the twin), but then in stock form I suspect it’s been strangled to within an inch of its life, and I’ll wager you can achieve a considerable improvement with an aftermarket can, a high-flow filter and some rejetting.
It was getting on for mid-afternoon when our progress again ground to a halt. A sign to Walhalla signalled we were well south of where we needed to be, and Jungle, on the Beemer, was nowhere to be seen. We’ll blame Mav, aka Captain Chaos, for the navigational error, and enthusiastic throttle use for the Beemer’s late arrival – the Sertão’s back wheel had attempted to overtake the front one on a particularly loose section, which led to the impromptu crash test component of the comparo. Jungle was fine and the bike wasn’t too bad either – some bent levers and a bent handlebar, all fixed by the side of the road.
After establishing our position on the map (one of those old-fashioned paper things – no new-fangled GPS for us!), we decided to cut our losses and push on to Omeo. It was getting late and we were getting thirsty. It was a shame to skip Licola and Dargo, but at least we’d get in a decent stretch of tedious highway (that’s dedication to a thorough test for you) followed by what has to be one of the best sealed roads in the country – the Great Alpine Road from Bruthen, north of Bairnsdale, to Omeo.
BACK ON BLACK
On the long, flat country straights from Heyfield to Maffra, then to Bairnsdale, these bikes amply demonstrated their mile-eating ability. The V-Strom and the Sertão are better suited to riders of average height or below thanks to their reduced legroom (more so the V-Strom), while the KLR and Ténéré are both really roomy.
At 100km/h in top gear (sixth) the V-Strom was pulling 4400rpm, followed by the KLR (4200rpm), Sertão (4000rpm) and Ténéré (which was barely breaking a sweat at 3600rpm). Apart from the V-Strom they’re all five-speeders, and all four bikes have decent screens. The V-Strom and KLR are out in front here, the former with the advantage because its screen is manually adjustable, but the smaller screens on the Sertão and Ténéré also effectively punch through the wind.
The V-Strom’s saddle wins the comfort stakes – it’s broad, plush and compliant – but the Ténéré and Sertão aren’t too far behind, while the KLR’s perch, as I’ve mentioned, is a bit of a brick.
All four are pretty handy mules, too, in that it’s no difficult task to tie down a bag on the pillion seat. The KLR’s factory soft-luggage system was a winner, offering plenty of storage for a far lower outlay than hard luggage. I’ve always preferred soft luggage on off-road bikes – there’s nothing to snap or fracture in the event of a get-off, but then your gear isn’t as secure (from theft) either. The Sertão’s topbox was also handy, but we found its locking mechanism got a bit gunked up after being subjected to 200km of fine dust. Strapping down bags on the Ténéré and V-Strom posed no problems, and in general all four bikes had fairly broad, flat and low pillion seats and excellent pillion grabhandles. To that end, any of ’em would be good for carrying a passenger, although the extra weight would be a little taxing for these middleweight engines, especially the KLR’s.
The fun began again once we’d turned north from Bairnsdale and hit the twisties just out of Bruthen. Here the Great Alpine Road hugs the Tambo River, and the 100-odd kay run to Omeo is motorcycling bliss. Somehow my bike rotation system had stuffed up, because I found myself on the Ténéré, which wasn’t exactly well-equipped for the road with those knobby tyres. It was still fun trying to keep up with the V-Strom and the Sertão, but with those tyres it felt vague through the corners, it was prone to understeer, and flat out it developed a slight (but disconcerting) weave. I can’t criticise the bike for this – our antics here were pushing it well beyond the intended usage of the tyres.
The V-Strom was a pure delight on this road, but the surprise package was the Sertão – it’s incredibly capable on the tar, and can show up far more sporting motorcycles given half a chance. The KLR was simply outclassed on the bitumen – it too felt vague through the bends, although its rubber was far more conservative than that on the Ténéré.
A winding road sees the KLR pitch and roll as it transitions from acceleration to braking, but it was never far behind whenever we regrouped. I should point out that this section was conducted at what bike hacks have come to express as ‘a fair old clip’ – for pottering along at sedate pace and admiring the scenery (which is all plenty of adventure bike riders will want), the KLR is just fine. Its gearbox was the least refined of the bunch, too, but still completely adequate.
ROCK ’N’ ROLL
As we neared Omeo, on the wide, open expanses of alpine cattle country, we had an opportunity to conduct a roll-on test, in this case from 60km/h in fourth gear. The results weren’t surprising: the V-Strom simply streaked ahead, followed by the Sertão with the Ténéré nipping at its heels. Predictably, the KLR brought up the rear, but it really wasn’t all that far behind the middle two. Of course our top-speed tests – conducted on a racetrack, naturally – showed the V-Strom topping out at around 180km/h, followed by the BMW at around 170km/h, the Ténéré at just over 160km/h (it had more, but that lazy weave was giving me the heebie-jeebies), and the KLR at around 150km/h.
That night, after we’d settled in at Omeo’s historic art deco pub, the Golden Age, I had a chance to make sense of the bikes’ fuel figures. The Sertão was the clear winner on outright average economy at 23.5km/lt, followed by the V-Strom (19.7km/lt), Ténéré (18.3km/lt) and KLR (15.9km/lt). However, when you factor in the bikes’ fuel capacities and subtract 30km from the total range (to give a working range, with a bit in reserve to hopefully make it to the next fuel stop), the tables turned for the Sertão, with its tiny 14lt tank. Now the Ténéré was on top with an impressive 390km, followed by the V-Strom (365km), the KLR (320km) and the Sertão (300km).
We weren’t the only bikers staying at the pub that night, as around 30 or so members of SA-based AMTRA (Australian Motorcycle Trail Riders Association) members had brought their enduro bikes over by trailer for a High Country jaunt. Our heavier but comfier mounts caught one or two of those gents’ eyes, too – guys who were over chasing the young bucks at warp speed through the bush, and who were thinking about trading up to something a little more forgiving. Still buzzing at dinner with the glow of the ride we’d just enjoyed, we didn’t have a bad word to dissuade them.
Fact is, every one of these models is brilliant for exploring Australia’s highways and byways, but each comes at the task with its own angle. Reading back over this text it appears the KLR would come last in the pecking order, but throw in its $7999 asking price and all of a sudden it’s the outright winner in terms of value for money. For anyone wanting to tackle roads or trails at a more sedate pace, it’s a proven performer and super cheap to maintain. A bike only remains in a manufacturer’s line-up for 25 years for one primary reason: it works.
The Sertão and the Ténéré both impressed with their spirited engines and all-round capability. The Sertão had the edge on the road and the Ténéré on the trails, but I suspect the two would be on an equal footing if shod with the same rubber. The Ténéré will suit riders of average height and above, while the Sertão will suit those of average height and below. Both bikes sport a quality finish, and both come with a long list of factory (and aftermarket) options.
The Ténéré’s 23lt tank gives it a range that far outstrips the Sertão, and that will be a telling factor for anyone who truly likes to explore the back blocks. Then again, at $10,990 the Sertão is a value-packed wonder, some $3000 cheaper than the $13,999 Ténéré. Both bikes, I should add, are capable of traversing far rougher terrain than we tackled on this trip.
And that leaves the V-Strom which, as I’ve said, is the ‘soft-roader’ of this quartet. A proven engine and chassis, excellent economy, a comfy ride position and performance that belies its 645cc capacity – at a very reasonable $10,890 it ticks plenty of boxes. Is the V-Strom for you? It’s all about those expectations. Suzuki bills it as an adventure bike but with its exposed oil filter, limited suspension travel and cast-alloy rims, to my mind it’s only suitable for quality dirt roads. Sure, it’ll handle reasonable 4WD tracks, but only at a slow pace – push on and you’re risking trouble. Still, if you mainly intend to stick to the tar, it’s a brilliant all-rounder, and it will devour a winding road with ease.
HOMEWARD BOUND
The next day, as we readied the bikes for the run home, we knew they’d get us there in comfort, with plenty of fun along the way. We set out along the Omeo Highway, soon turning west along the superb road to Falls Creek (fully sealed not that far back). Lunch at Mount Beauty was followed by a rural run to Lake Buffalo then our last section of dirt, from the delightfully named Dandongadale to the hamlet of Whitfield. From there it was one last blast over the hills to Mansfield, and then highways back to Melbourne.
What a great ride, what superb bikes – who says you have to spend over $20,000 to get a competent and capable adventure bike? I can see the appeal of the biggies if money’s no object, if regular two-up tours are on the agenda or if their use will be restricted to the black-top, but for a true blend of on-road/off-road ability, and for their far more palatable pricing, give me a middleweight adventure bike any day.
Personally, in this bunch I can’t go past the Ténéré – it’s perfect for my height, it’s so very capable and it looks the business. Then again, I could easily live with any of these bikes and go to sleep each night with a smile on my face, before dreaming of discovering what’s over that next hill…
SECOND OPINIONS
All four of these adventure bikes satisfy in their own, unique way – but just come at it from very different angles. The KLR650’s just happy doing its own thing with very little fanfare, and it’s also got longevity on its side. On or off-road it’s obedient, which makes it such an easy ride. The V-Strom is a tarmac terrier par excellence – that V-twin engine is a ripper -- but its useability decreases as the terrain falls away. That’s when the Yamaha becomes boss cocky, and the power is all controllable too. But the Sertao is the one for me: there’s nothing particularly seductive about it – the styling, for one… -- but its all-round game is excellent. And there’s not a lot that gets it flustered, which is ideal for adventure riding when you just never know what’s around the corner. – Mark Fattore
The “does size matter?” debate – again! In my experience, it doesn’t when it comes to dirt bikes, as skill counts for more than horsepower. But, what about duallies? There is only so much power you can use on the dirt, but on the open road it’s a different story. This is where the V-Strom shows its ace; it’s hard to believe two cylinders versus one can make such a difference! Combined with firmer suspension and a good riding position, it’s definitely the choice for a twisty mountain road -- but, when it turns to dirt, not so much. This leaves the three single-cylinder dirt-oriented bikes, all very different. Kawasaki plays value for money to offset dated engineering and, for the most part, gets away with it. Yamaha uses awesome off-road ability to counter less than ideal road manners. Compromised by a mega tall seat, soft suspension and knobbies, it’s still surprisingly capable on road. BMW treads the middle ground well, with a more enthusiastic engine and better road manners, and not completely spoiling its off-road aptitude. In other words, the ‘dual sport’ brief is well met. Not perfect, awkward ergonomics (seat way too low!) and old generation ABS cost it points, but overall for my hard earned, it’s the best package for more dirt-oriented adventure use. – Murray Sharp
'Horses for courses” is an appropriate adage if you were to best define which of the four bikes excelled over the two days of our adventure bike odyssey. Regardless of the fact that tyres played a huge role in how each bike performed on different surfaces, each bike excelled in different areas. If my adventure took me to the Blue Mountains, with untold miles of winding, tarred roads, I would take the Suzuki, which is light weight and nimble with power to burn. If my adventure was to take me into the Gulf country I would take the Yamaha, alternatively the BMW. If my adventures were few and far between and were usually prefaced with “Luv, the boys have asked me to come with them to”, then the Kawasaki is the bike for me. – Paul Burrows