Well, not one to miss an opportunity and seeing how it rained pretty good here in nth Ca, early part of last week. That a fair weather window was swiftly moving in behind for the weekend, i cancelled all other obligations in favor of a long weekend on the Terra. One of those throw it in a bag and call it good/seat of yer' pants whatever you fancy inpromtu kind of road trips. But to be clear it was more to discover the roads less travelled and the manner in which the bike would deal with them. Nothing extreme, but all within the desired parameters of my personal preferences for my type of riding and hopefully the performance capabilities of the bike. But right from the very getgo on taking ownership of the bike, one thing struck me, ever so faintly at first. This bike bears characteristics of a top heavy nature, or HCG (high centre of gravity) . Day 1 - Nth of San Francisco hwy1 early friday morning full tank of gas. With the preload backed off the rear end. A small day pack around 12lbs and a small set of Aerostich chuck overs mounted central and low, i was off! Small adjustments go a long way, and it took some time before i could feel my way back into the saddle again. The bike still feels incredibly planted on the street, even unwound. I'd kinda' gotten used to the feeling of the firmness, as it really suits my style of riding on hwy 1 on regular coastal stints. But looking for some rear end relief, as in my personal derrier, i played for the softer approach. Feeling the need to unwind myself, as much as that shock and get back to a more tepid, lulled even tempo with life. There's something deeply satisfying about lumping along on a thumper on a twisty meandering road, that twists winds, rises and falls, with a slight sense of floatiness to it all. This bikes is happy in the low 40's and lazy 50's on such scenic backroads and byways. It already made it's mark on freeway slab, noted for it's effortless cruising and easy on the ear displacement. But back on these roads the shear single mindedness of the one lunger plays out over and again in an endless seem of pleasure. What strikes me about this particular stead and in many ways sets it apart from other bikes in it's division or class. Is that it really is in a class of it's own. heading up the 1 i have assimilations to Thruxton, Manx, Ducati, Sprint, Cafe racer . Somewhere between the thump of those twin pipes accelerating out of turns. And the resounding flutter following roll off on deceleration, likened midway between a rattlesnakes rattle and the spinning of a revolver chamber. With a few pops and crackles thrown in. The sun is shinning, the air is crisp and clear and Point Reyes bakery has my name on it! Post graze and in the saddle, continuing north to Fish Rock, just nth of Anchor bay. Following a mild 'Terra wrist' attack round the Tomales Bay curves, just can't help me self there i'm affraid. Things settle back into a steady rythm. Winding up the Jenner Grade and along the rugged coastal line nth of Bodaga, the wind here often ushers in the change of territory with a certain harshness. Irregular blasts and buffeting are often the norm. Though not as strong on this occasion, never the less, it's blowin' pretty good and i'm again reminded of the asset of a few extra pounds of livery. Though i may favor a lower front fender, for such harsh cross and head wind encounters. There's still summit to be said for the up high one on the Terra. It more than hints at the possibilty of dirt, reminds you of it's roots. Besides, it flows so beautifully with the lines! Damn is this thing sexy or what!? Heading east on Fish Rock the fun really begins. It's a dual sport adv delight, that moment when so close to home you encounter your first abrupt termination to the black top and enter the world of Terra! Amidst this canopy of redwood, oak, pine and fir the road snakes a course that breaks daylight back out on hwy 128 between Cloverdale and the coast . Another short jog east and then a left onto coach house road, another sleepy little back road into the trunk route town of Hopland. But meanwhile, back in the woods! So it needs to be noted, this section along Fish Rock, although not my first unpaved encounter, was indeed the longest. One of those reminiscent old forest logging roads up and along the coast. Mainly hard pack, few loose rocks. Occasional pot marks the size of a childs head. For the better part hard pack. Under normal circumstances, ie anything other than wet. A pretty straight forward ride. But here were the early signs of things to come. That slightly top heavy nature coupled with a tire, that despite it's relative grippy street credability. Became knownst to me simply as 'breakaway'! Metzler Sahara? WTF were you pricks on when you cunjured up that one huh? This thing wouldn't make it across a kiddies sand box let alone the bloody Sahara for christs sake! You may have detected a slight undertone of dislike for this tire here. Well, in it's defense, though i'm certainly not advocating it's off street ability . Note that i said ability, not 'ties'. That being it will get you off the street!, Beyond that, it's 'ties' will repeatedly test your 'abilities' to do everything within your neuronpsychomuscular reflexs to prevent it from reducing your centre of gravity to dirt level! Anyhow, in it's defense this may in part, or largly, be in affliction, or confliction, with the top heavy naturedness of the bike. In a kind of bad food combination/ recipe for disaster kind of a way!.......... but more on this later. Ah Hopland and that burger stand. Don't you just love knowing there's a little outpost, or in this case a descent sized grazing patch at the end of a road right about lunch fest. Well burger me if these folks didn't fall on their lucky spot. South end of town and smack at the intersection of 101, (which is reduced to a single hwy at this point) and Mountain House Rd. Ahhh just perfect, and it is, in this road voyager context, the ideal respite, unless you be vegatarian i guess? Heading east replenished on this splendid spring day, 175 takes you through a wonderous series of curves as it sweeps through the sweetly scented fields of matured vineyards post harvest. Once over the grade one is rewarded with exceptional views across Clear Lake and the surrounding county range. The descending curves are of an equally fun nature with the added advantage of the odd inclined cambering here and there. For those more inclined to the sporty nature of the Terra. There's more fun than you can poke a stick here, in my opinion! However, i got ahead of meself there a tad. Backing up along 175 just a handful of miles out of Hopland just prior to the ascent. there's a road off to the right known as the Old Toll Rd. I'd been looking forward to this one for sometime. Reputed for it's water fording and other such dirt oriented activities. Sadly the effects of feeling under the weather and basically 'shagged out' had already come to the surface. realizing the day was going to be cut short for mere need to rest and recharge. I opted in favor of pressing on. The weight of gravity was beginning to weigh heavy and much needed rest was soon to follow suit. Once fuel supplies were replenished in Lakeport i opted for a short jog on Scotts Valley Rd, onto hwy 20 up to Calpella. Then a short stint down the 101 to Ukiah and motel crash pad. Day-2 !t could of gone either way! I awoke from a 10hr coma in morning fog that wouldn't lift. Fortunately or not, this was all in my head. Outside the day was bursting into life, sun was up, sky was clear. But why wasn't i on board with it all? Sometimes the affects of deep sleep have a somewhat counter productive almost dispiriting effect on the weary traveller. A lingering kind of haze accompanied by the persisting low energy and somewhat vague disposition had left me feeling kind of, well, blobbish. Like what the 'f' am i supposed to do with this, kinda' mood. Surprising what a rousing shower, a full platter of sausage bacon and a small pale of caffeine will do to resolve such matters! But even so, as i approach Redwood Valley not but 30 mins ride north on that fabulous morning. I still couldn't get into my 'feeling' the mood, mood. But the post graze and caffeine had the desired enough effects of reorienting my compass north. When i could of so very easily said, screw this, i need to go home and turn into a pumpkin or something. Either way, what followed the moment we turned into Redwood Valley saw the end of that road, and the beginning of an adventure in earnest! As is commonly the case on such venturous jaunts. I really haven't got much of a bloody clue where i am heading. Often times i couldn't really tell you where i was or more over where i'm heading, twice even! Allbeit that of a topographical nature. The journey is what's in front, in that moment, that's what i'm seeking, lusting and searching for. On any one day it could be a trip to the friggin' corner shop, i don't care. I just want to feel connected with life, the surging pulsing rush of all associated sensory responses that inform me that i am indeed alive and connected and a part of this movie. Participatory intrinsacle and all that groovy stuff. Even if i can't spell it! Well, that early morn that's where it happened for me. Where the world i left, i finally left behind. Where the man and machine synergy became one focussed union. Where the pleasures of nature and scenery and wildlife burst into a frothing kaleidescope of endless pleasure. Finally my portal had appeared, i was in the rabbit hole before i even knew it! Redwood Valley was a surreal welcome to wonderland. Maybe because i was wanting so much to break out of my fog . The lighting and the turning fall colours. the way the road ran a lazy course along side the creek. The stillness in the air, or was it all just a contact high from the endless scent of freshly cultivated marijuana that punctuated every twist and turn of this wonderously intimate road. God i love bikin'! A small group of riders rolled past as i'd stopped to snap some pics in a vague attempt to capture some of the glorious perfusion of light filtering through the tree's. Several miles along the way, at the point where the black top ceased. I encountered this friendly mob of like minded, yet lighter equipped dual sporters out on a 150 mile loop for the day. Including a fellow islesman from Wales also on a husky. Great bunch of blokes, we oggled and rattled for a bit. Then on a parting note they mentioned the water ahead and vanished up the gravel trail never to be seen again! Now, at this point, somewhere between the pot farmers aroma therapy programme. The caffeteine fix, the injections of two wheeled bretheren all maigickal colours and lighting i was just about as on fire as you could get, with the exception of a red hot poker up the rectum! The bike felt different, i was transformed and for a while, such utterings as 'shit f**cking Sahara Metzler 'Breakaway's' never crossed my mind, let alone my taughtly pursed permanently smiling lips! The first water crossing was the best. Full face lid open, slimy decent. Didn't falter and deeper than expected. I couldn't even tell you what gear i was in. All i can say is the word water plough comes to mind. Yet again, the weight plays into hand. Had i of faltered on the descent however things undoubtedly would of played out quite differently. It was a decent drop in a slippery clay sorta' way. Spray all out and up the front over the tank and a full interior lid face wash to boot! Can't ask fairer than that......more please! And there were, more than a handful to come, but not 'more' than a handul! yet somewhere between the slimy entry and exit points. Indeed many points between, the front quite simply wanted to fold. To clarify there's breakaway, and there's just plain old fold. Anyhow, more on that later. Let's have some more fun ayh? I later discovered, actually the following day, there were apparently 8 crossings in this valley. Full of mad hatter exuberance i could of swore there were but 4 or was it five or.......who bloody cares! I was just lovin' it. The bikes size and weight really don't bother me much for my intended use. The issues at test were more adequacies of the suspenders. Ride comfortabilty and develop a sense of what i could, or could not live with. It feels at home in this kind of terrain. Transitions well from street to dirt. Suspension could gain a modecum of travel, but then i half wander what price you'd pay back on the black top. Mind, i often thought about such things as 'dial a ride' becoming a viable item for the d/s segement, in a sort of logical kind of way. Something that you could shift modes on the fly from the bars, nay? Well, time is against me and i need to get a jump on the day here. All being well i'll do another installment tonight, or at least soon. But just to bate the taste buds for the journey ahead here's on of the hi/lo points of the journey. I say hi/lo as i find this bike has many paradoxes, this image conjures up memories of such........enjoy!
Thanks for the detailed report. Have you considered adjusting where the forks are in the triple clamp? Possibly down? (please ignore if that does not apply, I've not seen a TR650 in person). Any thoughts on what would be a better front tire?
During a visit with Dan at Motoxotica concerning an issue with the cooling system. They gently persuaded me to let them drop the slider tubes about 1/2". Not that this countered the unsavory top heavy sensation. But it did give a significant edge to the turn in on cornering. So i'm running it like that for now. Actually just returned from dan's shop. Took a quick spin over there this afternoon in the hope of doing a side by side test of their demo bike. Unfortunatly, least for the benefit of curing my personal curiosity concerning this niggle, Dan had since sold the demo model. However, i may have come to a couple of conclusions. Whilst power washing the encrusted crud of a most memorable 3 day foray up the the hills of Mendocino and Round Valley prior to the ride out to Dan's. I first noticed several things. One, there was a considerable build up of crud on the backside of the radiator, immediatly behind the fender, but on the opposite, or inside, kinda' bizarre. But never the less, an amount sufficient enough to interfere with proper cooling of the motor. Two, and more in direct realtionship with said top heaviness. There is a steal lug protruding from the frame at the lower left side of the radiator. A reciprical tab with a rubber cush insert is attached to the base of the rad to mount to the point. Well basically it ain't! The thing was sitting a good 1/2" forward of the lug. Once noticing this and on closer inspection of the rad from the front once washed thoroughly. A culprit may well have announced itself. As the rear outside face of the fender was in direct contact with the rad. To the point a fine series of scores and scuffs had been etched into the plastic. Meanwhile a faint sheen was visible where it had removed the paint from the surface of the rad itself. So it's quite possible this would translate to a resistance which may equate to a sensation at the bars that would mimick the effects of a worn head bearing which would cause the bike to feel notchy, difficult to maintain a straight line at slow maneouverable speeds. Resulting in an overall sensation of top heaviness. As yet to be proven, but i wouldn't doubt it's certainly making matters worse. Being as i'm not hearing any talk of top heavy feeling or hcg elsewhere. I'm saying a prayer this will be an easy fix once i can address it. As for tires, very good question. One i'm certainly hoping others will chime in on. As this is the first big d/s i've owned for sometime that i will be desiring more aplicable tires to terrain. As with previous qulifying bikes i have nay been so inclined to venture so much from the beaten path. So generally stuck with the stock tires, or Metzler Tourance with the GS's. actually i did try a set of Heidenau's one time. Great tire, especially on the street. But wore out pretty fast. Way back when i used to use pirelli MT 21's, if i recall. Also a Michelin something or other. Maybe this would be a good discussion on it's own thread. Especially for the Terra, it's just so damn good all round. It's gonna' take just that in a decent boot. Damn good all round mating!
Cheers mate, i either don't say much, or i can't shut up! No doubt noticed i tend to rattle on a bit. But this bike excites the living poop outta' me, in a 'Eureka' kinda' way. I was wide awake at 3am this morning, full moon does a number on me at times. Great time to be tapping away and reliving the journey all over again. Hopefully more in the makings tonight.
Edge of Terra continued. With the mood positively shifted and accepting the unwieldly yet predictable tendency for the front wanting to wash out. I continued north a short distance on 101 to Laytonville then east on Dos Rios Rd to Covelo. A great little canyon rd more dirt that snakes back and forth for many a merry mile before bisecting hwy 162 just south of Covelo and Round Valley. Brief fuel stop and continuing east on 162 fabulous views along the Eel River before the black top again turns to hardpack a short distance west of town near the intersection of Forest Road M1. This main trunk route up and over the Mendocino pass some 5,500ft begins as a wide carriageway. This was one time the Sahara's actually held their own. The noticeable difference being that it was for the better part dry, less loose gravel, more of an imbedded stone in hard pack. This allowed for pretty swift riding on the ascent. With the front behaving as it should, i could actually manouver the rear wheel coming out of turns with more ease and frequency. But one things for sure, if the KLR is the tractor of the D/S universe. Then the Terra the JCB crown, cause this thing wants to dig! It pulls from so low down and with that smooth efi delivery it really doesn't bog down or go lumpy. This translates into real usable torquey bite. More often laying it down as opposed to spinning it away. On the flip side of this i also got a sense that during numerous and mostly more sever washboard encounters. This said bite would react quite abruptly with the rear end. You know when you hit wash board and you get that 2 forward one back kinda' response. This was more akin to 1 forward and 2 back. I attributed this to that dig and bite. Needless to say suspension wasn't totaly at home in the harsher of washboard. So i'd resolve to a more tacticle roll over steady approach once my arse had flat out been beaten to a pulp! The 162 becomes FR 7 splitting off at an intersection just shy of the pass, a last minute decision i turned onto Fr M4 and heading briefly nth before returning east and out into Tehama County. The town of Paskenta laid some 40 odd miles in the distance and Corning, my next bunk house, 20clicks beyond that. However, within a short distance of this continued and gradually winding ascent into deeper forest. The first signs of snow appeared. Kind of sludgy at first. well melted tire tracks yielding mud below yielding to small rivulets of thawing snow. This was trecherous, the bike was constantly wielding from left to right. I wasn't about to decrease tire pressure without means of reinflation. I knew from the get go it wasn't the the most preparedly of trips. But here we were in the thick of it, with little more than a whole lotta' patience and blind faith that somehow, it would dissolve with all concerns for life and limb and we would somhow navigate through. If the mud itself wasn't bad enough, several more hair raising near tractionless turns and there was my worst fear. Several hundred yards of deeper snow, tire tracks were now soft snow and mush and the front end wanted nowt' to do with it what so ever! So fumbling along awaiting the inevitable stack. Sure enough i got dumped pretty gently into a nice soft pile of the stuff shortly after. Besides one spot where the front and rear couldn't agree on which track to follow. I had to dismount, drag things back into alignment walk alongside motor running in gear get out of the rut. Meanwhile give the tires a good talking too before tenuosly remounding and gradually easing on. It was a steady plod that took maybe 40 mins before we could relax again and feel some sense of accomplishment. That we weren't about to spend a butt freezing night out in the sticks. Before you know it your descending snow line in your wake, the feeling of faster flowing air the scent of pine in the air and life feels very exhilerating again! When the mud turns to dirt and the dirt to man made. These moments of uncertainty fall away. The turns widen in more sweeping arcs and once you hit that black top. With the warm air of the Sacramento Valley rushing up to meet you like an old friend. As it spreads widely out yonder far as the eye can see. It's a stunning transition, like rebirthing from a cocooned state, or emerging from the primordial forest. to this enormous vast wide open valley etched with the outline of distant ranchers. Parched and arid beyond all measure. Dry as a bloody dog biscuit, yet hauntingly beautiful and smooth rolling periferal outlines giveway to that dead flat line valley floor. But here you are, hard to believe you've just dragged your arse across this snowy pass to encounter this. What must of it been like for those early bird pioneers! It would be easy to forget what your riding much of the time on dirt. But i don't really know what's more surprising. Leaving the hwy for dirt, or vise versa. Cause all of a sudden it's back on that rock solid hwy tool burbling pipes loads of grunt and ridiculous fun in the twisties. Any degree of eaten up, beaten up back water by way twisty pies. This thing just laps it up! One pointer comes to mind, many times during this ride, is the vagueness of feedback from the rear brake, particularly on dirt. I'd often times cover the rear pedal in corners to help counter the effects of the front. Took a while to know what it was actually doing, some trial and error. Certainly helped in this regard, but left something to be desired. On a footnote the fluid already looks pretty dark with 2K on the odo maybe time to switch it out, bleed maybe consider different pads even? One day at a time..... last installment hopefully tomorrow. Sorry no more pics at present on a borrow computer here. Do our best tomorrow time permitting!
Day - 3 I can't recall the last time i felt so good about waking up with nothing but the way ahead, and the day to create and carve your way through it. I got bit pretty bad by the Terra. Before sunrise that final morning i was up and chomping at the bit. The air slightly crisp and moist, a palpable stillness strung across the valley floor, cloaked in pockets of low lying mist. It was early and fresh, as the rousing singular thumps punctuated the airwaves like laying down virgin tracks in the snow. As erect and engrossed as any a dog would be with it's snout pushed firmly between the crack of the window and door of a moving vehicle. Visor open, was i passing through it, or it through I!? Either way, i was aboard the Husky on a SW tack bound for a second pass of the Mendocino Forest. Accessible on the eastern side via hwy 162, which in turn becomes F7 heading over the Mendo pass and back towards Covelo and Round Valley. But barely a handful of clicks west of Corning the dirt began. Nice and firm at first, but soon giving way to gravel, plenty of it and deep enough to bring you right back to the present moment in a nanoditty! The front was somewhat predictable by now, but this by far the worst encounter of the entire trip. A relatively short run of maybe 5 - 6 miles. As wielding wildly as best we could, ran as straight a course as was conceivably possible on stone ball bearings just prior to sunrise on an early sun day morn'! sunrise across Sacramento Valley west of Corning.......amazing how they squeezed 58 of those little 4 legged buggers into that 2 wheeler in the foreground! Within a short distance of the termination of hwy 162 and the beginning of F7 the pack turned to clay the kind that cakes everything it touches and just kinda' keeps multiplying each revolution. Off the bike, your boots become platforms and before you know it your headed back to some euphoric heady 70's body memory loafing around in enormous platform shoes......i digress. Clay and what i am going to call stiction, which implies to the friction being experienced by the contact between rad and front fender. Coupled with the Sahara 'Breakaway' was just plain silly! I mean riding on marbles before barely finding your own before 7 on any sunday is challenging enough. But this graphite grey cake wasn't exactly the icing on it. Again, it was moderated by punctuations in the canopy, or sufficiently off sloping grade, that you knew it was only short and thank goodness for that, not exactly a bag o'laughs. But again, easy to see beyond these easily improved handicaps to the feel of the bike. Though one thing that comes to mind on the subject of 'feel' is paradoxically the lack of it, where the rear brake was concerned. Many was the time i would feel out of touch with the rear pedal. Like it has some weird agenda of it's out. Let's face it, it's certainly not heading for the red carpet with most of the rest of this machine. Summit just ain't bloody right with the thing. I mean, this had to of been an anti pasta friday in Italy the day they designed such a flaw. I could forgive the visual awkwardness. But the fact was it really performed, least off road, about as fugly as it appears on bike! I just had a heck of a time getting on board with the thing in the dirt. Standing, well that in itself was an issue. But standing, it just wanted to plummet and maybe lock at best. Again, standing wasn't exactly an easy activity. Only way i could do so on climbs or descents was with an exagerated squatting position. Add to this the deep sinking right footed pedal action. It was just all wrong for me. Hence i opted for staying as close to foam as possible. To it's credit the seat really does a pretty good job between street and dirt. I found myself transfering my weight back and forth with relative ease. This would help the more or less helpless front. Shortly after sunrise the intermittent mud gave way to snow. Before we knew it, we were right in the thick of a vast stretch of well packed and refrozen snow! I could only summize the pass was within reach. Though my gut felt in that moment a more intimate encounter with the snow up close and personal would be a more immediate reality. ........ some days we pray harder than others. Well, this was my church, it was indeed sunday, and although not on my knees at this point, i was praying pretty hard! Despite one dismount, not an actual get off. More of a need to hoist the rear out of it's own non tractional rut. Then walk aside the bike in 1st gear for several yards before the tentative remount and gradual ease on the throttle. Even here, with less than desirable rubber and way over inflated for the conditions. The motor just lugged us out, front sliding wildly. I have little clue as to how we didn't really stack it that morning, it was way beyond the encounter of the previous day. I find dropping the pulse rate, breathing steadily from the gut and moving one step at a time, is the best thing. Don't think, trust and move forward, 'gradually'! Some how we made it through, was it the beckoning call from some breakfast haunt in Covelo. The intense desire to never repeat this experiment on these tires. Or simply the fact it's what was in front of me. I was there this was it, all things were as they were, carry on my man! I'd be lying if i didn't feel a rush of relief having snaked a trecherous wavy line across this stuff. Like i said in the beginning, i couldn't tell wether it's i who seek adventure, or the adventure that is persuing me at times. Either ways. It often results in such happenstance. All such innocent intentions run awry and life grasps you by the short and curlys and give you a good little shaky poo's! Round Valley was nothing short of stunning. Well, let's face it you just feel like you crossed siberia after surviving the stone marbles. So things tend to take on a slightly different hue at such moments of intensity. Even so the valley was barely stirring. Smoke rising from concealed dwellings deep with forested knolls.A really fun rolling sweeping hard pack decent affords glimpses across the valley and the Eel river slithering across its basin. Nothing like the onset of fall, ambling through hills valleys and dales in search of the magick and beauty play of light and nature combined with motorcycling and dirt and dirty cafe's ........ heaven! Covelo came, the only cafe in town hit the spot, before we hit the gas station, a one eighty and headed back east 162.Those fun few curves rising above the banks of the Eel. Then a swift right hand turn across the river onto M1. The M1 appears at this point on the topo map bearing all the hallmarks of an undecipherable rockstars signature. i.e an irratic series of tight squiggles and such. I wouldn't really care so much if it weren't for the washboards. Such deep tight turns often become the victimization of the 4wheelers. These are no exception. I found the only way to cross them without revisiting breakfast or dropping nuts, and i'm not pertaining to those attached to the bike here. Was to steadily roll across in a seated manouvre. Ironically, or not, back in the UK, the M1 is the main national motorway, equivalent say to the 101 in Ca. Once up on the Eisel ridge i was amused that this somehow represented a forest freeway comparable to the M1 motorway. Well, actually just around the corner......oops! A vast wide ridge spread out before me. Views alternating from either side. Front still had me on the edge of terra. But nothing could prepare me for that heart sinking jolt when we set eyes on yet more snow! This time it was on a well exposed ridge. Plenty of it, but more exposure to the sun, much of it thawing. Then back in the tree's it was a mushy muddy mess. Then it was just pure snow again, and on the dance went for many a mile. I came within a nats whisker of stacking it on a decent. Front ploughed off wildly. In trying to do something with it. i found myself out of the saddle perched way over the bars. Meanwhile the rear end decided to swing by and pay us a visit! One of those bodily moments when something bigger than you steps in and you have an unrepeatable moment of ahem, as you somehow find deeply opposing forces coming together into some form of coherence and you happened to be along for the ride! One can only hope! But there really is no hope for these tires. Or dires, least not in 80% of the dirt conditions i encountered. Again, we had traverse our third and last snowy ridge. The next few miles were steady loping open ridge. Gradually winding down to a steady winding decent, punctuated with irregular stones of varying size. Views across Lake Pilsbury were quite magnificent. As was the continuation of black top at dirts end. Nothing on the road, potted and rough in places, but right up Terra's ally, and coming off a that 48 miler of dirt. There's some deep satisfaction residing in the knowledge that the other beast within this well developed plant will step forth to meet you on the black top! Up until now, i have failed to mention the tranny. But having owned about 6 various Rotax's dating back 25yrs. I can hands down state this is by far the most well mannered of them all. To my left foot, it's really smooth and easy peazy. I personlly find the spread and ratio complimentary for my type of street and off road combination. I think they did a bang up job in this department, as with many other vast improvements over the previous GS models. Clutch is a halleleujah, who cares if it's cable, if it's that effortlessly light! I find it all just works really well together. Coming out from Lake Pilsbury the hard pack is back and it's a pretty fast fun run from her on out. Punching out the trees just north of Upper Lake. The deep forest peels back to reveal the return of the land familiar. A short hop back over the Hopland grade and 101 . A very fleeting glimpse of the ton on the clock whilst simultaneously witnessing a periferal view of a cop, sat in a car on a bank from his elevated view of the freeway. Again i was reminded of the phenomenal engine braking and was back down to freeway speed in a jiffy. Really despite a few minor niggles, what's not to love about this bike.............enjoy the ride! Note hole in riding pants the most serious injury sustained over the 3days 750 miles approx 200 dirt...bliss!
It sure was a whole lotta' fun, and would be tenfold with a real set of dirt worthy tires. So hard to find the right balance between street and dirt. Either way, i think it's a gem of a tool!
