A couple of weeks after I wrote this in 2019 I bought one…
I know it’s not fashionable in adventureworld but I do believe the Honda NC750X DCT (…XD) would make a great travel bike. We’re assured the NC is nothing more than a sensible commuter bike, a modern-day Benly combining a high-economy, low-output motor, but with neo-adventurish looks and a capacious ‘tankbox’. NC = ‘No Character’ say some wags, but that has as much currency as ‘TDM = tedium’. Apart from basic suspension, a lot of what the NC-XD has got would make sense on a long ride, including occasional gravel roading:
Tubeless wheels
Low seat height and CoG for easy low-speed maneuvering, despite the weight
Very economical
Low-compression motor for low-octane fuel
Decent ground clearance
Good weather protection
420W alternator
New or used; they’re half the price of an Africa Twin
And then you have the wonderful DCT auto gearbox. I very rarely use the W-word but DCT is the best thing since spam fritters. I first tried it a couple of years ago on the Africa Twin and got it straight away, and again on the NC-engined X-ADV X-cooter. I have well and truly had enough of clutches and gear changing, despite the advent of quickshifters. With a manual override on the left bar, DCT really is the best of all worlds and has been further refined on the latest models (read below) to possibly make it a little more effective on off-road slopes.
The 2018 DCT used in the NC750 models features “Adaptive Clutch Capability Control” that manages the amount of clutch torque transmitted. This adds a natural ‘feathered’ clutch feel when opening or shutting off the throttle for a smoother ride. Further refinements include fast operation of the N-D switch on turning on the ignition and a control system in AT mode for gauging the angle of ascent or descent and adapting shift pattern accordingly.
At the show where I tried it, the NC sat alongside the updated CB500X with more travel and a 19-er front end, and the odd X-ADV which, try as I might to like left-field ideas, I didn’t quite get as a genuine all-roader – well not at the price they want for it.
We set off for an escorted 45-minute backroad circuit with riders on Gold Wings the size of torpedoes, 500Xs and ATs. The DCT quickly came back to me: the start in neutral, shift with right thumb into Drive or shift again for Sport, then twist and off you go. Sport sees it hold on to higher revs before changing up, and there are three levels in S (didn’t get that deep). For manual, flick back a lever with your right index finger and it will stay in gear. To change up and down, use thumb/forefinger paddle controls on the left bar, just like an MTB. Manual gives you more control and engine breaking which you may appreciate on a fast descent. Flick back into auto any time, on the move or sat still. Pulling away, the low-rpm grunt is quite impressive; the benefit of an engine tuned for torque before power. Just as I recall on the AT, it seems to shift up and down at just the right moment; you can leave your left hand and foot at home.
Having tried the brilliant new XT700 a couple of hours earlier, the engine character was similar, if not more torquey off the line. There’s 25% less power than the XT7 but the same max torque of 68Nm – except it’s delivered some 2000 rpm lower on the NC. Because you can’t park in gear, just like my late 1970s Dream 400 AT (right), the left bar has an ugly parking brake clamp if you leave the bike on a slope.
But the NCs suspension and roadholding was nowhere as good as the Yamaha. Two inches less travel must have a lot to do with it which at least contributes to a saddle height of just 830mm (32.7″). I can’t quite put my finger on it; in bends it stood up a little on the rebound – inadequate damping perhaps? It didn’t feel half as planted as the XT, despite the low CoG. I hit all the manhole covers I could to give it a work-out while noticing the bloke on the CB500X in front was carefully avoiding them. So suspension on the 2019 CB-Xs is no better.
Looking at the stock NC shock (left), it’s not something you’d care to show anyone on a first date. Better shocks must be available and fork improvements too. It’s easier and less complicated to fix suspension than a motor, but is it as easy as that? I went through this all before and decided, no.
The single front brake was especially good considering the 230-kilo mass; goes to show one big diametre rotor can be enough. The original NC 700 had linked brakes like 1970s Guzzis (and maybe still). The brake pedal operated front and rear brakes at a given ratio, and the brake lever brought more pressure on the front. As with DCT, it frees up the hands. I loved it on a V50 Guzzi I rode years ago, but it seems there is only so much control you can remove from riders’ cold dead hands before they rebel. Riders claim they prefer conventional separate brakes because they can back the 750 into dirt bends with the rear locked or skidding… yeah, right. Switchable linked brakes, like switchable ABS would suit me, but maybe that’s too complicated.
On the road in auto, it’s great to have your left limbs liberated into redundancy. Taking pictures is easy, so is eating, waving or any number of other distractions. Sure, an emergency stop is best made with both hands on the bars, but these days we have ABS to modulate our clumsiness. And while it’s certainly heavy, the similar BMW 700GS and even my heavy-for-what-it-was Himalayan both proved in Morocco that because of the low-set weight, both are better than you’d expect for my level of gravel roading biking.
The 750 from 2014. A big improvement over the original 700s (suspension, DCT, counterbalancer, gearing, unlinked brakes and ABS, dashboard, seat
From 2016: fatter silencer, slightly bigger ‘tankbox‘, new ‘tank’ sides (usually silver), LED lights, 3 sport modes, a bit more poke, better suspension.
From 2018: new dash, 2-level traction control, higher rpm limit.
This American Honda dealer (who broke the 450L story last year) has unusually comprehensive blurb on the 2018 model. There also an NC Wiki.
They’ve just announced the 1100-cc Africa Twin, which some hope might also result in a smaller 750 spin-off. Otherwise, I don’t think customers would buy a properly adventurised version of the NC – its image is too ingrained and the weight and power would be perceived as all wrong.
A DIY job could include higher-profile knobblies to gain some clearance and dirt grip, better suspension to maintain it, add a bashplate and, fingers crossed, good to go is what you are.
Fuel access under the back seat could be a pain, and so might be seat comfort (early NC seats were bad). I’d probably end up with a bike not much better than my XSR, but that worked well enough. Both motors have the desirable 270-° crank timing to provide a V-twin throb without the bulk.
I’m tempted to try one and get to grips with the DCT to see if the novelty wears off in the face of the weight and modest horsepower. What really holds me back is the go-anywhere agility of a trail bike. I’d like to see DCT in a CB500X (along with a 270° crank). It’s safe to say that won’t be happening.
While I was busy dodging the winter under the shady mangroves of the Coromandel peninsula, Simon-with-a-workshop quietly worked on my Himalayan, like a gnome chipping away in a pink rock-salt mine. The long list included:
Bolt-ons
Move the Oxford heated grips control module to an accessible position and rewire it to the ignition, not the battery, as the original owner had done.
Fitting ancillary leads off the battery for my heated jacket and Cycle Pump/battery optimiser.
Fitting a switch to kill all lights. Handy for battery saving as well as leaving the highway unnoticed for stealthy wild camping.
Refitting the cheap LED headlamp which came with the bike. It’s the same one I put on my XScrambleR. Never rode that bike in the full dark but although it saves watts (or is it amps?), I suspect the LED lamp looks better than it shines.
To monitor engine temperature a Trail Tech engine temperature sensor is more useful, accurate and quicker responding than relying on the stock ambient air temp sensor. At a cold start it will show ambient anyway, same as the stock in the dash, but once running, reading off the spark plug, the TTech soon shoots up. Even with the oil cooler and the ‘under piston oil sprays’ we read about, the low-tuned, air-cooled motor’s reading reaches a staggering 240°C at 65mph on the motorway, dropping to around 175°C in town. The spark plug is of course just about at the hottest point of an engine so basically it’s quite normal. ‘They all do that – sir‘. Under the seat the Himalayan’s ambient air temperature sensor got relocated anyway to a position less affected by the motor’s downwind heat flow so it gives a truer ambient reading once on the move. It’s a common mod.
Garmin Montana cradle fitted to left mirror stalk with RAM mounts and hardwired to the ignition. I thought they’d not fit for want of cable slack, but I was wrong and the adjustable Rox Risers have raised the stock bars a healthy 50mm. It required releasing a clip off the braided ABS brake line under the tank somewhere, and the barely needed cold start cable was also on the limit. With the raised seat it’s now easy to stand up and to not stoop once I’m up there. Halleluia.
My ancient Barkbuster Storms are now on their 7th outing since fitting to my XT660Z back in 2008. I should win some sort of recycling award. Simon had to make some simple mounts as for some reason, the curvy BTC 06 adaptors (right) which were recommended didn’t fit. Could be that a decade on, newer Barks have changed shape. The Barks require the slightly adjustable stock screen to be set fully forward, but riding back I can’t say the turbulence was any better or worse than in the original position. I think that at the speeds the REH can achieve, it’s all a bit academic. And as it is I’m sat on a motorbike out in the open air. There will be turbulence.
Like so many bikes I’ve owned lately, I assumed the stock shock would be a budget keep-the-fender-off-the-wheel job, so I pre-emptively ordered the Thai-made YSS which took a few weeks. Some reports claim the stocker is too harsh, others say too soft, others just right. On the road it didn’t feel too bad – perhaps the usual mix of over-sprung and under-damped. It weighs over 4.8kg and half appears to be coil-bound, but in fact there’s a couple of mm gap in the coils (left) which adds some progressiveness.
It would have been good to evaluate it properly, but the shiny red YSS is sat there like a cream cake on cushion. Getting it fitted, I asked my LBS to check the linkage grease. Who knows if they did. I may also rivet on a flap to stop it getting plastered with crud spun off the back wheel.
The YSS is about a third lighter at 3.3kg, costs £290, is length adjustable by 10mm, has 35-click rebound damping and will work with an HPA which probably costs half as much as the shock. Out of the box rebound came at 20/35 clicks and with 12 threads exposed below the spring preload collar. Looks like a good place to start. On the short ride back from the LBS I did detect a little more compliance with small irregularities. Otherwise it felt the same. With most suspension upgrades, I’ve found you can’t tell much difference until road surfaces deteriorate or the speeds increase.
YSS fitting advice: The preload collar at the top of the YSS is now quite hard to access – removing the airbox lid on the LHS may help, as will a shorter, right-sized hex key, as opposed to the rod supplied. There is a tiny hex screw on the collar which locks it to the threads (hex key supplied). Either risk leaving it loose (collar may unwind), or make sure when fitting the shock that it’s in a position where you can get to and loosen it from the LHS – about ‘7 or 8 o’clock’ if 12 = forward. You will then probably need to wind or unwind the collar a full 360° to get the screw back in a lockable position.
A tenner’s worth of Chinese fork preloaders were also fitted on the front but are currently set at zero. The stock spacer inside the top of the fork needed to be shortened.
The steering head bearings got regreased. Along with swing-arm linkages, it’s a common precautionary requirement, and not just on inexpensive Indian bikes. My BMW XCountry’s head races were shot at just 6k.
My initial seat foam bodge proved to be poor, mostly because the foam I used had the springiness of Philadelphia cheese. A fellow Himaliste recommended some pre-cut stick-on foam seat pads on ebay (left; £15 each). At 20mm I bought two and rode home with them shoved under the Aero lambswool pad.
With the yellow backing still on, it all slithered around a bit and after only 120 miles the butt was sore, but I can definitely see the potential in raising the seat height. And I do wonder if the old lambswool pad makes things worse. Cool Covers sent me one of their durable aerated mesh seat covers to try. Like wool, the idea is that air circulation reduces heat and improves comfort, but with bike saddles, one man’s fur-lined throne is another man’s agony. Luckily, the Cool Cover just stretched over the two racing pads now glued to each other and the stock seat. The back edge of the top pad was crudely trimmed to level it off. In the picture below the seat looks like it’s sloping forward – not good – but it’s actually the taut cover over an air gap. The foam below is more level than it looks.
Let’s hope it makes a difference but bike saddles are usually more miss than hit. Seat foam apart, the combination of seating position, bars, footrests and the presence of a screen all have an influence, but it’s also down to tank range – in other words how long you sit riding uninterrupted. My CRF250L should have been the usual agony, but because I could only do 120 miles before reaching for the fuel can, the 5 minutes it took to do that rejuvenated the cheeks. One of the worst saddles ever was the BMW F650GS, probably because it easily did 200 miles between fill ups. One of the best was my GS500R Overlander. I never worked out why.
Wheels and Tubeless Tyres
Note: being a maddeningly illogical Imperial British standard, the ‘WM’ wheel rim width designation you commonly see (in the UK at least) doesn’t correlate with actual rim width in inches. But it is close – see table right. They say ‘MT’ is a modern, fully logical (but little seen) equivalent, where the MTxx number refers to the actual rim width in actual inches.
As confusingly, rim width in inches does not correlate with notional tyre width where, for example, a 120 section width (120mm; 4.7”) is converted to inches. But it is close-ish.
Stock REH rims are WM1 (MT1.85) on the front and WM3 (MT2.15 – need to check) on the back with a 120/90 17 tyre.
To enable easy puncture repairs I wanted reliable tubeless wheels which meant sealing the spoked rims. Along the way I was happy to ditch the steel rims in the hope of saving unsprung weight which I keep going on about. A mate had given me some ageing 18 and 21 Tubliss. The back was a bit too old to risk; a BNIB front got fitted and Slimed with the new Michelin (left). On the back, for the sake of simplicity I wanted an Excel 18-er with a new Tubliss (Tubliss don’t do 17 size). Then I was told max width for an 18-er Tubliss is 2.15” rim, like the stock, I think. The Anakee Wilds were recommended for a 2.5-inch rim. We’re talking a notional discrepancy of a third-of-an-inch here, but let’s try to do it by the book for once. Shame as an 18-er would have saved a couple of kilos in tyre and rim and greatly opened out the range of off-road tyres. But another problem is tubeless tyres (which do differ significantly from tube type) are rare in 18-inch size. Seventeen TL tyres are much more common.
It wasn’t on their website but CWC’s brochure mentions an Airtight™ vulcanised spoke-sealing band (left). It’s similar to the Italian BARTubeless polymer sealing I had on the Rally Raid CB500X of a couple of years back (and which CWC also offer). I’m always keen to try something new for my Ongoing Tubeless Saga, but not so fast, chum! CWC can only Airtight a 3-inch (WM5) or wider rim. Next problem: there were no 18-inch Excel rims in that width, so it was back to a 17-inch rim in WM5 to fit an Anakee Wild. Confused? So was I but we got there in the end.
Tyres were always planned to be Michelin Anakee Wilds, one of the few do-it-all travel bike tyres I’ve not yet tried. On hearing about my plans Michelin kindly supplied them for free, along with a couple of back-up tubes which I hope I won’t need. Rear is a 130/80-17 M/C 65R TL. The front gets the larger 90/90-21 M/C 54R TL to balance the lift on the back. And it all comes with lashings of Slime. Simon did some weighing before Sliming (add about 250g per wheel):
Stock front wheel with Pirelli MT60 90/90 + tube 13kg Front wheel with 90/90 Anakee Wild + Tubliss 14kg (Stock steel front rim 3.77kg – source)
So, a kilo gained on the front due to Tubliss and heavier Wild tyre; a kilo lost on the back despite the wider Excel being barely lighter than the steel stocker. I wonder if there’s an error somewhere, considering the new Michelin is 1.5kg heavier than the stock MT60 and tube. The whole ‘alloy is light’ thing can be a bit of a myth until you get to the exotic stuff. Look at MTB frames or an old, two-ton Range Rover or handlebars (below). But, although it’s been decades since I’ve had wheel problems, I’m pretty sure the CWC-built Excel will be stronger than the steel stocker.
At 7.5kg, the TL Anakee on the back is hefty. I rationalise that the added mass is down to the tougher tubeless carcass. If it’s anything like the punctured Anakee or Tourance I rode on last November, it’ll be stiff enough to cautiously ride airless while staying on the rim until I reach a village tyre menders. Here are some more dims regarding 18 or 17-inch Anakee Wild tyres:
Anakee Wild 120/80-18 M/C 62S TT Max sectional width 131mm, max diameter 663mm, weight 5kg, Recommended rim width 2.75”
Anakee Wild 130/80-17 M/C 65R TL Max sectional width 142mm, max diameter 654mm, weight 7.5kg (verified by SV), Recommended rim width 3.0”
Both will easily fit the width of the Himalayan’s swing arm, but at the front of the swing arm, clearance gets down to less than an inch with the taller 18. A bit of chain wear and you’re good to go. On the front the mudguard now looks fairly close to the new Wild, so for mud clearance I’ll lift it a bit as mentioned below. Riding back 120 miles, the fresh Anakees rode a lot more securely than some also-new K60s I’ve ridden with other bikes. No weirdness in bends and no vibration or noise (a common complaint) that I could tell.
Michelin have just brought out a new TPMS and sent me one to try out. It will be particularly welcome for keeping tabs on my untried tubeless set up. The unit is USB rechargeable and sits magnetically in a stuck-on dish. So it’s easy to remove or nick, and might fall out on rough ground without an extra method of adhesion.
The read-out (psi or bar) flips every few seconds between front (as shown below) and rear. It’s interesting to note how pressure climbs by up to 20% as the tyre warms up.
Fabrications and load carrying
Apart from some custom Bark mounts, all the Him needed made was a sand foot plate welded on the end of the sidestand.
Cheap and hefty
And Simon managed to hand bend and bolt on a pair of very nice unbraced Ear-racks (as I’ve decided to call them). I’d originally bought the RE pannier rack from India for only £77 (right), but while cheap, the thing weighed over 5kg. You don’t need all that metal unless you’re running alloy cabinets. Inset in the circle below, Simon pointed out a weak spot where the lower Ear-rack bolts to the pillion mount which is welded rather bolted to the subframe. But the unbraced rack has some give, plus the soft bags will also absorb impacts, so hopefully it will take quite a crash to break the mount. It actually wouldn’t be hard to brace from the upper curve of the Ear-rack to a point on the stock tail rack, just above the indicator.
Custom-made ‘Ear rack’
I forget that I’m an unsung Kriega Ambassador; they’ve just sent me a set of their new OS22 throwovers (below) to try out. I was a big fan of the OS32 on my WR250R a couple of years back. The OS22s feel very rugged and weight in at 2.5kg each. This time, to save weight I’ll fit them as throwovers without the platform, and use the tabs on the back to secure it to the Ear-rack with brilliant q/d RovaFlex cable ties (right).
They’re the same size but 40mm slimmer than the 32s which looks quite a lot, but the slack will be taken up on the front by the 6-litre Lomo Crash Bags (left). Hopefully I can get away without my 30-L Ortlieb Travel Zip which can make getting on an off a chore. I have a 10L Kriega Drypack (right) knocking about if I need more capacity.No six-megaton bashplate you say? On the tracks I ride these days they’re more useful at keeping flying gravel from damaging the engine paint. When it gets that gnarly, I’m down to walking pace, ready to deploy outriggers. The new tyres and firmer shock have raised the clearance a bit so the tinny, stock bashplate (below) will do fine for the moment.
Lifting the front mudguard is a good idea now that the fatter 90/90 Anakee Wild is closer to the plastic. One time on the Tenere in Morocco I rode onto recently rained on clay which jammed the front wheel solid. A right faff to clear with Moroccan farm workers milling around saying ‘Oi, you’re front wheel’s jammed, mate!’.
On the Him it’s easily done with slightly longer fork brace bolts (below) and some M6 spacers raising around 10mm, before the mudguard hits the downtube on full compression. It’s worth remembering these spacers (search ebay: ’15mm ø aluminum bushes M6 hole’; right) want to keep a broad contact between the brace and fork mounts as there’s some leverage stress here.
So there it is. Just about all done in one fell swoop, as they say in Simon’s neighbourhood. Riding back to London, initially the Him felt a bit odd as modified bikes always do. The jacked up shock and new Michelins have given the bike an altered stance, but despite the sliding seat pads I soon settled back in to it. It’s not fast, but somehow that’s not frustrating and I’ve yet to put my finger on exactly why. Am I still in the honeymoon period of enjoying the novelty and kidding myself it’s better than it is, as so many owners claim with their bikes? Or with the Himalayan, have Royal Enfield stumbled on some magical combination of looks, gearing, power delivery and value for money which, for the moment ay least, still makes this bike such an enjoyable ride? It’s getting trucked to southern Spain shortly – a liaison stage to Morocco which I’ve done enough times already. We’ll see how I feel once the shine has worn off after a month on the trails and backroads of southern Morocco.
I’ve always liked utility bikes (‘ag bikes’, ‘farm bikes’) where functionality is measured in terms of load carrying and off-road agility, rather than tarmac-creasing acceleration or foot-long suspension travel. They even get their own section in AMH8, left. For the right sort of gnarly adventure, or with a recalibrated attitude towards pace, bikes like Honda’s AG190 (left) could make a tough little travel bike. Ag bikes possess that do-anything, go-anywhere appeal, which must also be behind the adventure motorcycling phenomenon. Yamaha’s TW-inspired Ryoku concept of a few years ago (below right) seemed to bridge both segments.
Whether intended or not, UBCO’s 2×2 electric utility ‘moped’ may also benefit from this ‘I-could-if-I-wanted-to’ conceit. People need personal mobility, sure, but many like to be feel cool while doing so, be it in a RAV 4 or on a GS12 or Raleigh Chopper. While staying in an affluent suburb of Sydney recently, along with skimpy urban scoots like the Sachs (above left), Chinese urban retros similar to the Mash Roadster as well as a few XSR7s outnumbered anything else I saw on two wheels there. In fact it’s said bikes like these are now beginning to outsell adventure-styled bikes. Expect Bike Shed franchises to start popping up like Pizza Huts.
The Ryoku never got off the drawing board, but Honda’s recent X-ADV adventure scooter sought to capitalise on that urban adventure cachet. But after riding one – and even though I now have DCT out of my system – I felt something more akin to the current Ruckus moped (left; not sold in the UK) would have been more fun. In Australasia and South Africa, ag bikes have been on the scene for ever, but have changed little since the 1980s. What you want is an ag bike’s utility with scooter-like ease of getting on and off – a mini X-ADV. But do you also need 2WD and would you choose electric?
2WD motorcycles
You can be sure that one long winter some obscure engineer-farmer has experimented with front-wheel drive long before most of us were born. The vid below is one of many crazy-arsed compilations on youtube. And a couple of years ago Visordown dedicated one of their Top Tens to 2×2 motos, some pictured right.
At that time Visordown said: ... a modern generation of batteries.[…] and hub-mounted electric motors mean that … this must surely be the future of two-wheel drive – allowing almost any bike to be adapted to drive both wheels.
Such predictions proved to be on the money. If AWD is seen to be as desirable as it was when Audi introduced the Quattro road car in the 1980s, then the advent of hub-mounted electric motors is by far the least complicated and most elegant way of doing it. Ask Nasa (above) or even Ferdinand Porsche. The mechanical or hydraulic solutions powered by an ICE (internal combustion engine), as in the vid above, are mostly just too clumsy, expensive, complex or otherwise lacking in real-world commercial potential.
Off-road the benefits of AWD traction is obvious. I can think of many sandy pistes in the Sahara (above; Algeria) which would have been a whole lot easier and therefore safer to ride with the addition of front-wheel drive. Just like in a 4×4, AWD means you can tackle loose terrain like sandy ruts or dunes without resorting to momentum (aka; speed) which will catch you out (right). And in my experience in the desert, a 4×4 with an automatic gearbox is an unbeatable combination, especially on slow rocky climbs or in soft sand. Just the right amount of torque is fed to all the wheels to give traction, and on rocky trails there is no risk of stalling, again allowing you to concentrate on precise wheel positioning and clearance issues.
Automatic scooters are common, proper motorbikes less so, but do you even need 2×2 on a road bike? The answer is: not really. While road tests affirm that Yamaha’s recent ‘2FW’ Niken (above) delivers eye-opening improvements in front-end grip, on the road 2×2 would only benefit acceleration, by spreading the torque to both wheels and so limiting wheel spin (just as front and rear brakes improve braking all round). But advances in electronic traction control and tyres to match have proved just as able in optionally eliminating wheel spin. Combined as it is with ABS sensors, TA probably adds just a few ounces to a bike’s weight. Any front-wheel drive system would add several kilos while drawing overall power. All up, the US-built 200-cc Rokon below is the only successful production 2WD motorcycle – a two-wheeled tractor that looks even less comfortable to drive on anything easier than a wooded hillside and for most people has has probably been superseded by AWD ATVs, even if the latest model features the miracle of front suspension.
UBCO: Electro Glide in White
UBCO stands for Utility Bike Company, founded in 2015 when the work of a couple of creative Kiwi engineers got picked up by entrepreneur, Tim Allan (riding, below). In 2018, after the original off-road only model had spent a couple of years in development with Kiwi farmers, a fully road-legal, version was released for global export. It’s the world’s first production 2×2 electric motorcycle aimed at farmers, rangers and forestry, while also being bought for urban deliveries and just plain off-road fun. Being restricted to 50kph, it’s classified as a moped which in many territories means it can be ridden on just a provisional licence. You can add luggage or wider racks and run power tools off it. To recharge the 16-kilo battery takes 6-8 hours. The bike is made in China and in NZ and Australia costs $8000, (about £4200) in the US it’s more. That’s about the same price as a KTM full-suspension e-bike (above right) I saw in an NZ shop window.
Wisely, UBCO dodges competing with the likes of recently folded Alta or Zero who produce(d) full-sized electric road-legal motorcycles. Instead, it’s aiming squarely at the utility market where the benefits of a light, rugged, easy-to-ride and near-silent all-terrain bike outdo its limitations in range and performance.
Weight is 65kg and with 2.4kw (3.2hp) via the 48-Ah, 50-V Lithium-ion battery, power is less than an ICE moped. But 90Nm or 66 ft lbs of torque across two wheel is a figure equivalent an 800cc bike, and all that torque is delivered instantly to each wheel so both will spin as you pull away on loose dirt. Electrotoque is not really comparable with ICE torque: old but interesting article. Very few electric motorcycles have motors in the wheel hubs. Once you get beyond a moped power level, they become too heavy and bulky so need to return to the typically central ICE location. Above (the two sides of a hub motor), the number and size of copper windings correlate to the power, and these motors are designed to spin fast, hence the three reduction gears on the left. The UBCO’s motors are about as small and low powered as they get on an e-moto, so hub fitting is not a problem. There’s just the low, centrally positioned battery with a power cable reaching out to each hub. Simple.
Tim, myself and his mate JB set off along an overgrown MTB trail at the TECT Trail Park close to Tauranga where UBCO are based. No clutch or gears, no heat, drive chains or belts and virtually noise, plus hydraulic MTB brakes, speed-calibrated regenerative braking and low CoG and seat all make the UBCO effortless to ride. Along with the cleated footrests, it all means you can concentrate on fern-dodging and where to put the front wheel.
Unlike an ICE moto, terrain permitting an electic bike is most efficient with the throttle at the stop and hard acceleration doesn’t consume power like it does on an ICE. Despite its optimal traction and light weight, the low power rating means it’ll only climb 1:4 at which point the short-action throttle is pinned. If you run out of go it’s dead easy to hop off and push. Even with my weight, I found what looks like basic suspension well suited to the bike’s speed potential and the terrain we rode. It’s operation never intruded on my ride and it never bottomed out.
I can’t say I noticed the 2WD, apart from wheel-spinning when pulling away on loose dirt, but it rode as on rails despite the Kenda trials-pattern tyres being at road pressures. The 2×2 has no negative effect on the steering, probably quite the opposite, but you barely notice it. Just like I found myself pressing air for the foot brake, it probably takes a while to believe and then fully exploit the front end’s drive. And no, it won’t be more efficient in one-wheel drive (like old-school 4x4s could be) – the small motors are designed to work most efficiently together. As you can see below, the air-cooled hub motors (the only part of the bike which gets hot) aren’t fazed by shallow water crossings either.
Sure, the MTB handlebars were way too low when standing up, and there was nothing to brace the legs against. But the UBCO is so light and power levels so manageable it didn’t really matter. When sitting down I found my knees banged against the frame, but some trousers or pipe lagging would fix that. Just like a DCT Honda, the lack of gear changing or fear of stalling really frees the mind to deal with other things, meaning you can ride more smoothly and have more fun doing so. Before I got my current Himalayan I considered adapting a DCT NC750X into something akin to the Rally Raid CB500X. To me this is one of the greatest benefits of electric bikes. Doing the same ninety minutes riding on any sort of ICE dirt bike would have left me comparatively worn out. The fast-paced off-roading we did would give you about 40 miles range – you’ll get nearly twice that on a flat road at 20mph. And the regen braking means coming down a long pass actually adds a bit of charge. The dash info is basic and includes the temperature of each motor, but you can change or monitor various functions with the bike bluetoothed (or some such) to a smartphone app. Lights are LEDs up to a very bright 2200 lumens.
At the end of the ride I was able to nose the front wheel against the back of the trailer, turn the handle and let it climb up. But even without the 2×2 or even the utility element, like the Sachs moped above, the UBCO can also pass as a cool-looking urban runabout. In the right setting it would be a great way of nipping around without frightening the horses.
In 1967 the Electric Vehicle Association claimed that Britain had more battery-electric vehicles on its roads than the rest of the world put together. Almost all were milk floats (right) rated at around 8-10Kw and with a range of 50-60 miles. Even then, the first Golden Age of electric vehicles can be dated back to the start of the 20th century when, in the US for example, 40% of cars were steam-powered, 38% were electric (about 34,000 in total), and just 22% were dirty, smelly, noisy, rough-running ICEs. Then major oil fields were discovered around the world and before domestic air travel became the norm, the interstate road network went on to outstrip the railroads. Now there are well over a billion ICE road vehicles in the world, about 20% of which are bikes. The total number of EVs surpassed 3 million in 2018, a 50% increase over 2016.
Electric Bikes
The future will be electric, again. That may well be the case in urban settings or for other short-range applications. In 2008, alongside the more common pushbikes I was amazed to see electric scooters (right) whooshing around the streets of Kashgar, western China. And in Auckland last week I was equally intrigued to see dock-free e-scooters (left) either left on the pavement or whizzing about between pedestrians.
But any form of trans-continental overlanding in the less-rich AMZone will probably be the last place to see e-motos. The world is just too divided between rich and poor, urban or rural. Just as with fast internet or mobile phone masts, the cost of installing the necessary infrastructure everywhere is too great. It’s an overlanding quandary which has become analogous with diesel cars. Low-emission engines designed to run the low-sulphur fuel sold in rich countries will play up on the old, high-sulphur stuff sold in some parts of South America, Africa and Asia where emission regs are less strict and ‘Euro 5’ is a football tournament. So while in the next decade you might be able to ride your e-moto across Europe or North America, as things stand Cairo to Cape or Prudhoe Bay to Ushuaia will be a challenge for a long while.
Visualising a sunshine-powered, off-road coast-to-coast traverse of Australia, similar to their World Solar Challenge race, I asked the UBCO tech guy would the necessary 400-w solar trailer (about two panels on the left) do the job? No. A battery can’t be charged and discharged at the same time, but a spare battery could be charged. Broome to Adelaide at 30mph max would sure give you plenty of time to get a nice sun tan. Some say the specific problem with electric motorcycles (as opposed to e-bikes, cars or trams) is that, price apart, with the available technology the weight vs power or range doesn’t add up with current perceived expectations of what a motorcycle can do. It ends up either too heavy, too slow or runs out of charge too soon. But even Harley’s turbine-smooth Livewire (above) only weighs 210kg, does 0-60 like a 701 and might last 100 miles. We’ll know more (or not) when the Long Way Up comes out this autumn. Other electric bikes will do better. As we approach the fabled Tipping Point you’d hope things can only get better.
In a line Economical and easy-to-ride big twin on road or trail, only held back by the staid image.
• Still running well at 110,000 rental kms • 19″ front wheel ideal for road and trail • Suspension surprisingly good at sustainable off-road speeds • Great economy – averaged 81 mpg (28.7kpl) • Torquey boxer-sounding motor has all the power you need • You really notice the benefit of a low centre of gravity, especially on the dirt • Yes it’s 209kg wet (claimed) but like they say of a GS12, it carries it well.
• Seat (low version) is as bad as the 650 version, if not worse • Long wheelbase and low CoG? [+ road tyres] can make turning hard on dirt switchbacks • Tall first gear for off-road (as with most road bikes) • ABS and gear position indicator didn’t work • No screen to speak of • FSH-type owners mean used prices remain annoyingly high
Review A few years ago I rode a brand new F650GS SE down to Morocco, covering around 4000 miles while updating my guidebook. The ‘SE’ was a fully accessorised and snazzed-up version of the regular 650, just before that model got renamed the ‘700GS’ to help differentiate it from the 650GS single which had long caused confusion. Six fifty or ‘700’, the actual engine is a detuned 798cc as used in the pricier and flashier F800GS. These parallel twins were launched in 2008 with an Austrian-made motor, soon followed by a well-documented slew of teething problems. The popular 800s were finally replaced in 2018 with the F750/850GS. The motor is now made in China but final assembly remains in Germany.
I reckoned that for most, the 650 twin made a much better travel bike over the 800. It was lower, more economical, more torquey and has tubeless tyres and a 19-inch front wheel, while still having great suspension and more than enough grunt to get the job done. After a week on a bike with over 110,000 rental kms on the clock, I feel the same about the 700 for all the same reasons. I’d take this bike over an 800 any day, not that that’s stopped them being far more popular travel bikes. Image is a big part of the adventure and, hampered by its ‘entry-level’ stigma, the 700 looks boring alongside an 800GS.
Guiding a group of 250s and 310s, I wasn’t pushing the 700’s limits on the road. Most of the time the throttle was barely open, resulting in fuel consumption in the low 80s mpg (68 US; 3.4 l/100km; 29kpl). I know I’ve been going on about 270-degree parallel twins lately, but the 360°-cranked 700 – cunningly acoustically tuned to replicate the sound of a GS12 – was easy to ride on the road or the dirt. I never had reason to go over 120kph for long, but I’m sure it would make a great road tourer once you sorted out the seat and fitted a worthwhile screen. Back in 2012, the 650 was an effortless ride back to the UK across Spain.
The bike I was using was fitted with a low seat and had picked up a few minor faults over the years: the ABS didn’t work and neither did the gear indicator on the dash. Out of Marrakech there was a bit of misfiring, possibly because the throttle was barely open. It cleared up and never came back. But it came with a centre stand and the heated grips still worked. The tyres were plain old Anakees which slipped a little across road-surface gravel and held me back from swinging around too freely on the dirt, but as long as things stayed dry they were as predictable, as other bikes used out here with road tyres. Like the 650 I found the 700 a hard bike to turn on dirt switchbacks due, I think, to a combination of long wheelbase and low centre of gravity, where leaning the bike has less effect on shifting the CoG. At any other time I appreciated the long, low-slung bike; it helped the bike track straight in soft sand – again as I recall from the 650.
The 700 supposedly had less torque and more power than the 650 I used, but I felt little difference. It’s still a great motor for my sort of backroads- and easy trail riding. First gear was too high off course (I specifically got my 650 cogged down a tooth on the front) but the low-rpm grunt of the engine and smooth hydraulic clutch made feeding in the power easy at just over walking pace. It was never uncontrollable unless you wanted a bit of wheelspin. I doubt I was ever using half of the available horsepower but it’s good to know there’s plenty there for a long ride home.
The suspension is nothing flash up front: an unadjustable fork, but the spring rate and damping seemed just right on the roads and the pistes. It goes to prove you can make a plain fork effective out of the crate without needing to offer expensive adjustments. Same with the back, although this bike had an Ohlins with a HPA, but who knows how old it was and what it’s been through. I never felt the need to adjust the preload, easy though it would’ve been. Occasionally both ends bottomed out which shows the full range of travel was being used. I really did marvel at how this unprepossessing old tug managed the rough pistes – better than my Rally Raid CB500X and last year’s XSR700 Scrambler.
The low seat – probably under 800mm – was as bad as the 650’s, if not worse, due to scant padding, but standing up wasn’t noticeably hard and it certainly eased getting on and off. I can’t say there was any intrusive vibration through the worn-out grips or pegs and although there was no screen, I never sustained high enough specs to make that a issue either.
Conclusion After a week and 1100 clicks on the rental-ravaged 700GS I found myself on ebay looking used prices. I have to admit that engine, suspension and comfort the 700 felt as good if not better than my similar XSR700 and a lot more gratifying to ride than the CB-X.
The two specs of CRF450L have merged. The full power, barely-road-legal, ‘red KTM’ dual sporter of the US is now effectively sold in the EU and Oz in a bid to help sales. Except the massively detuned, 25-hp version now comes with the power booster kit (ECU + pipe). More here.
In May 2018 several people pointed me towards Honda’s announcement of their upcoming CRF450L. Was this finally the bike I’ve been droning on about for years? A lightweight, all-road modern travel machine, based on the now proven CRF250L trail bike (right) which I bought myself soon after it came out?
Short answer: no.
When I first noticed its very close resemblance to the long-established 450R dirt racer, or indeed the similar, street plate-able (in the UK, at least) CRF450XRL (right), I was disappointed. It was just a barely street-legal dirt bike for the US with the same yard-high razor saddle and crazy 50+hp with maintenance intervals measured in hours. Blink and you’d miss it among the spread of near-identical current Honda powersports dirt racers on the left.
But, based mostly on the thoughtful preview on this unusually well informed enthusiast’s website (a Honda proxy?) I’ve given the 450L a second look. Images here are mostly all pinched from there, but are probably all Honda’s anyway.The problem has always been that Honda lacked a suitable 450 engine to stick in this dream all-road travel bike of ours. And on the road the 450 class seems a bit dormant. Plus, the idea of a rugged, lightweight adventure biking in the mould of CCM’s short-lived 450GP may be much talked about in our tiny adv echo chamber, but as we know, adventure motorcycling is really another name for big ‘sports utility’ bikes. Honda would never sell enough 450Ls to make it worth their while.
The 250L trail bike uses a heavy but durable CBR road-bike engine which in 2014 became a CBR300 with just 36 more cc but more bottom end. Some have been waiting for a CRF300L to follow or have shoehorned in CBR300 motors into 250Ls. But clearly you can’t squeeze another 150cc out of that barrel.
What Honda have done for the Europe market seems unlikely to be successful: they’ve detuned a 450R racer by over 50% to the 250L’s output – less than my similarly high-spec WR250R (left) which weighed about the same 131kg. But to help poor sales they now throw in the pipe and ECU kit to regain full power.
To achieve this they added the lightest possible road-legal LED lights, a battery and decent alternator, a more durable three-ring piston, side stand, necessary emissions stuff including a cat and big pipe (weight to be saved there), cooling fans on the extra big rads, a wide-ratio 6-speed box, an 18-inch rear with the all-important cush drive rear hub and even a lockable fuel cap on the tiny titanium tank. All this adds a hefty 19kg over the 450R racer, but at 131 kilos that’s still pretty good.
But what still throws me is the new 450L’s schizophrenic nature:
• fully adjustable suspension but 25hp – 1hp more than the 250L; a few less than a WR250R
• ‘enlarged’ tank in titanium, no less, but still only 7.6-litres (1.66 Imp gal)
• disingenuously carries the ‘L’ road bike label but nothing like a 250L
• 20,000-mile rebuilds and 620-mile oil changes
• Puny 135-watt stator
The power may be modest, but with compression down to 12:1, the claimed torque is 40% more than a 250L which, along with more crank mass, proven efi and six wide ratios, ought to make the 450L a tractable trail bike that’s less revvy and vibey on the road. It ought to be easy to lower too. Just a shame they couldn’t have managed another 10hp and normal oil change intervals. The power kit sees to the former need.
The new XR400? It’s as close as we’re going to get from Honda, not that the XR4 (right) was any kind of travel bike in its day. A great dirt bike for sure, but the tall saddle, kickstart and the frail subframe held it back for long hauling. I’m probably thinking of a modern DRZ400S (left), a proven if unsophisticated small travel bike which I’ve nearly bought many, many times. It’s been unavailable in the UK for over a decade, but it’s still sold new in the US for under $7000.
The question is: could the 450L’s claimed 25hp be enough? Possibly, but with the tiny tank and crazy ‘Africa Twin’ price, and high maintenance no one I know is that interested in finding out.
Update: over New Year 2018/9, Adventure Spec’s Dave Lomax (above) was exploring Morocco on a lightly modified 450L. Look on their Facebook for more.