Category Archives: Project: Honda CRF 300L

CRF300L: 10,000 miles • Final Thoughts

After a year of logging routes in southern Morocco – most intensely with several visits since last October (including occasionally renting 4x4s) – just a mile from completing my final piste on Jebel Ougnat I came across a pipe trench dug across the track that had yet to be filled in. They were improving this entire route but oddly, there was no way round this one. To one side, a local on a 125 had slithered down the steep bank and up the other side. I scrambled down to see if it would be rideable, and as I did so, a guy on a moped turned up, took one look and turned back (below).

Hmm. Would those planks take the weight of a jury-rigged launch ramp?

I cleared a few stones and figured I could do it, getting off and pushing if I had to. It’s always easier than it looks and anyway, I was one sodding mile away from finishing months of research. I wasn’t going to turn back now and mess up my final hard-won GPS tracklog!
I managed it with ease, but it was the anticipation of tackling such rare obstacles – not least an exhausting riverbed in the Anti Atlas a few months earlier – which validated my choice of getting the 300L for this big Morocco guidebook update. Whatever its other shortcomings, the CRF was as light and lowered as practicably possible, while having enough power, range and protection, plus more than enough suspension and clearance to complete the task.

Full-frame greenery near Meknes. Quite a shock on the eye after a month down south

Another late revelation came on the ride back across Spain which I was dreading, principally at the thought of enduring saddle soreness while wanting to get the miles in with a ferry to catch. I gave myself spare days just in case, but came the day that agony never materialised. I got another agony instead.

I’d had an amazingly good run this winter, often achieving more than I planned, but the turbulent springtime weather had broken in Morocco, with a violent overnight dust storm sweeping through Tinejdad. That meant I had to abandon a final high-altitude recce on Jebel Ayachi so, lacking the time to sit it out and wait, I may as well head home.
I started with a 400-km day from the desert up to Meknes, covered it with ease and getting in just as a hail storm rolled off the hills and hammered at the hotel room windows. Next day, neither of the forecast heavy downpours (one said morning, the other, afternoon) materialised, so I whizzed past the Hotel Sahara in Asilah to Tan Med and caught the next ferry to southern Spain, ending in wind and rain to Alcala.

I’d underestimated the Honda and my ability to cover distance, so decided to put it all on red and next day went for 600km along the familiar and effortless A66 ‘Ruta de la Plata’ to Salamanca – effectively a deserted motorway. It was a gamble made easier by knowing fuel and leche bars were frequent, as well booking a couple of days at a roadside hotel in Mozarbez, while in a holding pattern for the Santander ferry.
Unfortunately I didn’t anticipate single-figure temps and a numbing southwesterly. I was cold for the entire 9-hour ride to Mozarbez which ended in sleet at around 3°C. I arrived seriously frozen, but comfort-wise, had magically acclimatised to the CRF’s seat with the help of the Moto Skiveez.

I was grossly under-dressed for all this, recalling teenage biking sufferings when I knew no better. Increasingly desperate stops for fuel and hot food were needed. On-bike exercises – a new ploy – eased the long distances in the bitter cold and occasional showers, which saw me edging towards hypothermia.
I rarely exceeded a true 100kph, but had the weather been what I’d hoped for in March, that 600-km ride might have been stretched to 700 or around 440 miles. A pretty amazing distance on a 286cc donkey. All you need to do is try not to ride for more than two hours at a time.
That said, even with the strong southwesterly pushing me, fuel consumption was down to 70mpg/25kpl; an all-time low. (Fuel log here). Imagine what a CB500X would return holding a true 100kph in the same conditions? My guess is a lot more – or a much faster transit if riding at whatever 70mpg is – probably 120kph. This is the often overlooked payback with small motos. The only benefit is lightness, but of course that matters a whole lot when roaming around alone on the dirt. Sadly, you don’t gain good economy at highway cruising speeds as well. After >10,000km the 300L averaged a verified 30kpl / 85mpg / 70.8US. I tried but never quite managed to get a true 100mpg, but I think a lighter rider could.
I was the slowest private vehicle on the Plata, inching past trucks while cars raced up to my mirrors, but the Honda did a lot better than I expected. Was I wrong about the 300L being a compromised travel bike?

Stepping back a bit
The bike I rode home was a little modified to what I’d ridden out from Malaga in October. By now both tubeless wheels had been properly sealed with a continuous band of Puraflex 40 by the mechanic at Loc in Marrakech. I’m a bit slack on checking; turns out the tyres still lose a bit of air, same as I’ve found with proprietary sealing systems like BARTubless. But on typically stiff TL tyres, it has to get really low – 1 bar or less – for you to notice. It might be leaking from the bead/rim face and it might settle down. DIY TL sealing needs to be checked regularly, just like tubed tyres. Or fit TPMS.

By now the stock-sized AX41s had worn out and I was running over-fat Mitas E07s as that’s all they had in Marrakech. These bigger tyres – 130 80 17 and 110 80 19 – improved cornering confidence on the road and were fine on the dirt for what they are. The front did slip a bit more on the loose stuff than the knoblier AX41, but felt more reassuring on wet or dry asphalt.
By the time both fat Mitaii had been fitted, the NiceCNC ‘Schmouba’ link didn’t lower the bike that much. And the Skiveez ended up the best all round solution to saddle woes. That and trying to stand more which is actually quite enjoyable until my insteps start to ache. Refitting rubber inserts into the pegs didn’t solve this; it must be my TCX boots or I need massively wider pegs.

The Rally Raid suspension hasn’t sagged that I can tell. The fork seals have held up amazingly, and the DID chain has been adjusted once in 10,000 miles with hand cleaning and lubing as often as practicable.
The lame front brake holds me back from going full WFO supermoto in the canyons – well, that and a lack of nerve and skill. There’s still loads left, but I’ve ordered some EBC pads even though I may not reap the full benefit before the bike gets serviced and sold.
I tried swapping the grips in a bid to reduce vibration at the bars, but fell for some ‘duo-foam’ marketing with no improvement. Perhaps fatter, Moto Gloveez are a better idea.

So the answer is no, I wasn’t wrong about the 300L as a travel bike. It’s still a 28-hp ‘300’, bought for on-trail lightness, not it’s ability to generate motorcycling joy as you pull away or power out of a bend. It’s about where you can take it with confidence. Thanks to the low first gear (resorted on fitting the same-tyre-ø-as-OE Mitas) the power is absolutely adequate on the sort of dirt I ride and loads I carry. But I bet most 300L owners have another bigger ride or two in the garage.
Satisfaction may be found with something with a bit more poke, machine #65 I think it’ll be. As I won’t be off-road exploring so much and my skills in recognising what’s doable will have improved over the last year, the expected added weight of <200kg juiced up will have to be manageable, providing the seat height isn’t in the clouds. And ideally, unlike the Honda, it won’t need masses of added kit and mods to turn it into a good traveller for road and trail.
What is that bike, you ask? Click this.

Honda CRF300L 9000km review

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CRF300L Index Page
CRF300 Rally quick ride

In a Line
Light enough to tackle any trail I dare, but too tall and uncomfortable as a do-it-all travel bike for most.

Rally Raid suspension
Great range with Acerbis tank
19-inch front wheel conversion
Screen with MRA lip
You know it will start and run like clockwork
Inexpensive and easy fit NiceCNC lowering link
Weighs about 162kg tanked up and with all the gear

Needs loads of add-ons to make it a functional traveller
For a trail bike, stock 894mm seat height is ridiculous
Negligible power increase over CRF250L
Seat comfort on long or rough rides
‘Average Mpg’ or ‘remaining fuel level’ read-outs both out by 10%+
Reduced stability with big tank and other add-ons
17-inch rear knocks out speedo accuracy (unless you size up the tyre)
Acerbis fuel cap always cross threads
Front brake is weak
Front brake switch failed ;-O
Negligible lowering with 17/19 wheel combo

Review
October 2023 I got my CRF shipped to southern Spain to leave in Morocco for six months. I flew down to carry on scouting new tracks for my next Morocco route guide, while also leading my one-week tours with 310GSs in between times.
I’m not quite finished with the 300L yet, but last week it turned 10,000km (6200 miles). High time to share my impressions after 8 months of riding.

Taking comfort
I bought a very well equipped 2021 300L from its second owner with just 1000 miles on the clock. It still needed a bigger tank, radiator protection and tubeless wheels (plus whatever’s shown in the graphic above). The bike came with a lowered seat (read: thinned out). At 34.5″/876mm it was 0.7″/18mm lower than Honda’s claimed OE specs of 35.2″/894mm. I tried to make the thin seat more comfortable by adding a 20mm neoprene pad under a Cool Cover which increased my back end’s mileage. But judged by side stand angle, the 17-inch rear wheel with a stock width AX41 tyre didn’t lower the back noticeably.
I then bought a stock black seat (full foam) and, with my added padding, probably went up to 35.7″ or a whopping 907mm. Then one day in Morocco I knew I’d need a low seat for a tough day, so removed the padding and Cool Cover. My backside was pummeled at the end of that 300-km ride, but I never refitted the Cool Cover and kept the neoprene slab held down with a bungy.

Later, I ditched the neoprene too and wore some Moto Skivvies and have settled for these plus opiates on a bare stock seat in a bid to keep it as low- and me as comfortable as possible. It’s still too high for easy mounting/dismounting, though the anterior agony got muted on some days. As we all know, once the drugs wear off, getting off/standing up for just a few minutes can offer respite.

286cc
The 300 is only 36.4cc bigger than a 250L when you’d hope that’d be nearer to 50cc. I owned a 250L in the US a decade ago and for what it was (left) enjoyed it greatly. Along with other factors (like the existence of the CBR300R and worldwide >300cc licensing regs), I guess there’s only so much metal in a 250L barrel to bore out.
I knew it before I bought it of course – a quick ride of a 300 Rally didn’t set my hair ablaze – but the increase in power on the 300 is negligible. It’s still essentially a ‘250’ with the same-ish 27hp as a WR-R, along with all the inherent benefits and limitations: light enough to tackle or turn around on anything the seat height allows, while being a slog on long uphills or a headwind, plus uncomfortable after more than an hour or two. So not much different to my previous WR250R or KLX250 then. In many ways my less powerful Himalayan 400 suits my ‘old man’s’ riding style better, but was no faster on the road.

The best things about my 300L are the easy 400-km range from the Acerbis tank (despite the maddening cap) and the Rally Raid suspension. While both ends might benefit from a bit of tweaking for my mass, it just works; very occasionally bottoming out at the back and never at the front. After a few weeks in Morocco I thought the rear shock was sagging a bit, raking out the forks and slowing the steering. So, lacking the shock tool, I dropped the clamps around the front forks 5mm to produce the same levelling-off effect, but can’t say it rode any better.

Ten inches of suspension and clearance?! Way higher than it needs to be for most users.

Something’s Off
The way I’d set it up something felt off on my bike. For a while I thought it was the tubeless AX41 tyres. No so much the tread pattern which is pretty conventional, but perhaps the added sidewall stiffness in the tubeless carcass, intended for GSs and the like, not dinky ‘250s’ weighing 100 kilos less. Airing down to as much as 20psi didn’t help.
Then I tried dropping the forks 5mm, as mentioned; no noticeable change. So was it a high CoG, especially with a full 14 litres on board and exacerbated by the tall screen, radiator bars with side bags and so on? It certainly felt less stable tanked up, but no more than you’d expect. I tried to avoid setting off for potentially tricky unknown tracks with a full tank. I even blamed the hefty Outback Mototek rad bars, but while heavy, they’re actually set pretty low down.

17/19 wheels. Was it worth it?
My main motivation was to convert the stock wheels to tubeless, not have smaller wheels. I knew the stock front 21 rim wouldn’t have the required ‘MT’ safety lips. As MT 21s are rare anyway, I thought I may as well try a 19 as an experiment; it’s a better all-round travel size and there’s more tubeless tyre choice. Then it turned out the rear 18 wasn’t MT either, so I may as well try a 17 which also offers greater do-it-all travel tyre choice and might even lower the bike. Note: fitting a 17 raises the gearing a bit – you won’t pull away in 2nd so often. But it also throws the speedo out from ~8 to 14%. You’re going a lot slower than the speedo indicates and may want a DRD or similar black box to correct it. But: fitting an oversized Mitas E07 at 10,400km put the speedo error back in the ~8% ballpark. DRD not needed.
I rushed the original job and had a manageable slow leak from the 17 and a meltdown on the 19 front arriving in hot Marrakech (fitted a tube). But the 21 I left at home has held its air fine for months. In Marrakech the mechanic re-sealed the rear in between my trips, cleaning then applying a continuous band of Puraflex. He then did the same to my 19 front and both hold air fine now. Summary: technique works if you take your time and allow a day or two of curing.
All done, the bike was barely lower and, as mentioned below, the 19’s benefits only became evident with the screen removed. Obviously, I can’t tell a 17 from an 18 on the back, but running a front 19, at the donkey speeds I ride at I can’t say I noticed any detrimental effects on the dirt over a 21. Crossing gravelly oueds, I did try riding feet-up, but the front soon tucked in and deflected, as you’d expect. Through thick bull dust same thing: go deep and the wheel folds. So much for improved flotation from the fatter front: you need to attack such crossings with momentum to push the front through (see AMH8, p205), while wrangling the bucking bike and spinning back end. We know how that can end, so I often paddle like a duck.
Bend swinging on the road the AX41’s ‘50% vacant’ contact patch held me back, but I did perceive – or persuaded myself – the 19 tracked better through bends than a 21 would. Occasionally banked over it would twitch, but the asphalt surface is rarely pristine and debris-free in Morocco. So 19: no difference over a 21 on dry, loose dirt at trail riding speeds. Deep sand, mud ruts and snow may be different. On dry asphalt it corners with more perceived confidence, depending on tyres and minimal CoG interference.

Talking of the Bridgestone AX41s, the rear TL had had it by the time I rolled back into Marrakech, having covered only 7000km or 4400 miles. I ran it at around 25psi, though it would lose about 7-8psi overnight. I went out of my way to select a tyre of identical width to the stock 18-inch IRC, but next tyre am going fatter all round: a less knobblesome 130 80 17 Mitas E07, partly because that’s the nearest the shop in Morocco can get in TL. It span less readily on loose dirt and certainly rode the roads better, like a 310 with its massive 150 rear. The front AX41 got replaced 2000km later with a bigger 19″ E07. Initially it felt heavier but the bike rode more like a supermoto on the road and is OK on the piste.

Returning in December for a week, I got to the bottom of it. Undertaking day rides, I left my baggage in the hotel (<6kg), but also removed the screen (1.5kg?) with an MRA spoiler. The bike now felt a lot more chuckable and connected. I could even ‘feel’ the 19-inch tyre’s benefits and managed the odd side-slip on the dirt, as on other bikes.
Was it purely height + weight, or also a ‘vision’ thing? Who knows, but after a week I refitted the screen and all my clobber for the ride back to Marrakech over Jebel Saghro, including a tricky a ‘4WD only’ descent, and the bike felt OK. My parameters had been reset, though I’ll definitely remove the screen again for day rides and even tours. It’s not needed and only takes 5 minutes.

In the late 70s I remember my 900SS was mysteriously transformed once I removed the half fairing. On that bike it was definitely about being able to see the front wheel (or just the front) directly, a bit like a forward control (‘cab over’) vehicle like a a VW Kombi or my old 101.

Ditching what little overnight baggage I carry certainly helped (and no tailpack made swinging the leg over so much easier), but removing the screen turned the 300L to what I’d expect: a fun, nippy, lightweight trail bike.
And yet every bike I’ve had for the last 15 years has had a screen of some sort, including the 250L (a plain, light Slipstream windshield which I reused on several later bikes). With the 300L I think it was a cumulative amassing of stuff, not just the screen, but the bigger tank, heavy radiator bars with side bags, handguards, tankbag, GPS, breakfast. From the Mototek crashbars upwards, and with a full tank, that’s up to 18kg of added mass over a stock 300L all up on the front, or way over 10% of the bike’s stock weight. Too much.

With that sorted, it’s only really comfort that holds me back, not helped by the fact that my knees are going (or are having a bad year). I’ve always been a lazy ‘sit when you can; stand when you must’ rider, but now I’m less able to hop onto the pegs or even just weight the footrests like I ought to to spare the hit when crossing a run-off ditch. Standing up is actually a good stance (compared to a 310GS), with knees pressing into the cushy sides of the seat just like they should. There’s a bit of a stoop for me (6′ 1″) at the bars, but that’s without any risers that I usually have to fit.

I do stand up on smoother terrain at the end of a ride to revive the backside and stretch out, but find, even in my TCX dirt boots, that my insteps ache after 20 minutes. Fitting wider footrests is something I overlooked in the prep, I now realise. Africa Twin Rally footrests fit right on they say, and have a third bar to support the load, but I bet other pegs fit too. The cheapest AT pegs I found were £80 on ebay, with DRC, or similar but unbranded Chinese alloys, costing around £50. Then I realised that replacing the missing footrest rubbers for 20 quid a pair will probably have the same effect, but same soreness so must be much TCX boots.

On the dirt I wouldn’t want any more weight nor need more power, but would love an inch less height for what I do. In the US (and maybe elsewhere one day) they now offer a 300LS, with inch less suspension and an inch less in the seat. For those without a calculator to hand, that’s two inches lower seat height.
The 300LS should have been the stock 300 back in 2021, with an ‘HS’ option for the lanky hardcore. Over ten inches of travel is excessive for a trail bike like the L; the CoG is too high making it twitchy, and it discourages ownership by less tall folk. I’ve never came close to hitting the bashplate which could easily be 2 inches lower, as on the LS. Honda could even take another inch out of the springs and put some padding back on the saddle where it’s still needed.
It’s a shame the TracTive shock from Rally Raid isn’t length-adjustable like the Wilbers on my XSR700 or YSS on the Him, though of course there’s nothing to stop me fitting a lowering Kouba Link (or similar knock off), then raising the forks in the clamps some more. In fact I have talked myself into trying just that for the next lap.

There were some long spells of oued paddling (too loose or rocky to ride) at which time the low first gear was just right, ticking over at 2mph or so, with no need to feather the clutch. But as mentioned, my speedo read-out was way out until I fitted a fatter Mitas when it went back to stock 8% error.

All in all, while the 300L was a great deal and is making my task out there easy, I’m at an age where I want a lower saddle alongside the low weight to be able to chuck it about with greater confidence, and get on and off without scuffing the saddle with a boot. I’ve matured into one of those old guys I met on my 250L in Canyonlands 10 years ago who’d ditched their KTMs for TW200s (left). Plus I’d like more day-long comfort, like a 310GS, though am not sure I’ll ever get it. All this holds back the fun of being on a planted bike like the 400 Himalayan.

On one of the tours one of the riders who owned a 450L wanted to try my adapted 300L, so I hopped on his rental 310GS. What a great bike that was, and not just the cushy, full-width saddle! Something about the steering also felt just right (this was before my de-screened epiphany). He also thought my 300 was off, and put it down to the 19-inch conversion. As John M at Rally Raid will tell you, the 310 (especially with his RR mods) is a much under-rated bike, though he rides a low-wheel 300L too.

Snatchy throttle? Can’t say I’ve noticed by found this tip on Advrider.

Of course I never expected a 27-hp 300 to be the long sought after do-it-all travel bike. That machine is more likely to be a twin or single around the 450cc mark, like the forthcoming CFMoto 450T or the Himalayan 450. I bought the more dirt-focussed CRF for the specific purpose of bagging pistes in southern Morocco while leading a few tours. I could’ve saved myself the transit costs by hiring a 310GS, but the Rally Raid sprung 300L is a better ride off road, especially if you don’t know what’s ahead. And anyway, I wanted to try the popular 300L, and can’t wait to do another couple of months riding in Morocco. The long ride back to northern Spain in late March, not so much.

Coulda, Shoulda, Woulda.
Next time I will…

Not rush the DIY tubeless sealing, or just cough up for CWC Airtight.
Get the Adv Spec radiator brace instead of the heavy Outback Mototeks and find a way of hanging the side bags off the tank to cushion the rads in a fall
Hardwire in the GPS, then [buy] a proper USB plug, not the unreliable cigarette-bodge
Leave the Cycle Pump at home and rely on the handheld USB pump
Try some Moto Skivvies for long runs
Get a Rally Raid HPA for the shock
Try a lowering link

CRF300L: Ready for Morocco

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CRF300L Index page

After a summer of tinkering and trail riding, my desert-ready 300L sits in the corner of a foreign carpark that is forever Malaga, washed by fluorescent lighting, blest by the suns of Andalucia.
Ahead of me, weeks of piste logging broken up by a couple of tours to help pay for it all.

For nearly a year I’ve been scouring aerial images and OSMs while building up Google My Maps to five new regions for my next Morocco guidebook. I’m amazed how many pistes there are out there if you look closely. Many lead into areas where I’ve long thought ‘I wonder if there’s anything down there?’. Usually there is, as well as a number of new asphalt backroads not yet on any maps. I won’t be able to cover it all in the next few weeks, but I’ll leave the bike in Marrakech and come back for more later in the winter.
Although I cheated and got it trucked across Spain, once in Morocco the 300L should be the ideal bike for this job. Sure, less seat height would be nice. but it’s light, economical, nimble and should be reliable. Let the winter games commence ;-)

CRF300L: Tubeless wheels 3

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CRF300L Index page
Previously on 300L Tubeless Wheels
Tubeless Wheel Conversion Index page

Note: I rushed this job below and had a manageable slow leak from the 17, a meltdown on the 19 front arriving in hot Marrakech (fitted a tube), but the 21 I left at home has held its air fine for months. In Marrakech the mechanic re-sealed the rear in between my trips, cleaning then applying a continuous band of Puraflex. He’s doing the same to my 19 front. Summary: technique works if you take your time – days of curing – and do it right.

Note: I rushed this job

Rims are smaller but the 300L is no lower and rests the same on the side stand

It took so long to get my three new tubeless wheels made I’d forgotten quite why I did it. Oh, yes, the clear desirability of tubelessness, plus some experimentation with wheel sizes, notably a 19-er front which is 38mm less tall, 7mm wider and the same weight as the stock tubed wheel. Wheel builders seem to have long lead times, rims are not in stock, custom spokes need to be made and holiday needs to be taken. Once everything was in place and my slot came up, the actual job took a couple of days.

The Fly & Ride transporter was leaving for Malaga next week so I had to get cracking. Ideally I’ve have had a month or more to sort any sealing issues and get a feel for the new sizes.
The 19-inch wheel arrived so I got stuck in but rushed it. I didn’t wait a day for the glue to cure, then fatally used slippery 303 UV Protectant to help mount the very stiff AX41. Works great on tubed wheels but I suspected it was a bad idea for MYO tubeless. Once mounted, when I spotted 303 bubbling out of a spoke thread I knew the game was up.

With the tyre off, my glue blobs had gone soft (left, from 303 contact?) and peeled off like soggy plasters. To be fair, one problem with this used 19-inch rim was that the pre-existent spoke holes (from a KTM?) had to be reamed and re-angled to fit the Honda hub. It made for bigger gaps so I tried to seal the outside of the nipples with Stormsure where water might run in, but should have done a better job all round.
This is the gamble of marrying pre-drilled rims with non-matching hubs. Angle-wise, there can’t be that much in it, but in this case it was enough to misalign the pull of the spokes. Some wheel builders like CWC keep drilling patterns or templates to precisely drill a rim to match a given hub. This used Excel rim saved me £150 which I easily paid back with re-drilling and custom spokes. Oh well, the perils of experimentation.

Next day I needed to get my ducks in a row. Typically for me, I wasn’t repeating the proven system from the Africa Twin, but trying a new idea suggested by a mate. I spent a couple of hours in Poole sourcing components and by the time I got back, the other two wheels had arrived. After cleaning the 303 off yesterday’s mess, I started over.

**Wire brush** each spoke nipple. Didn’t really do much as rims were in good shape but worth a go. Mini drill brushes on ebay.

Rough up the rim’s black painted well with **sandpaper** then wipe it down with gas-o-lene.

**Mask** off the bead and lip with tape (did this a bit late).

Drip **runny Superglue** around the edges and into the thread hole of each nipple. Should pre-penetrate the cavities.

Spray the rims’ well with etching primer. Halfords were out so I paid £21 down the road. All for 60 secs of spraying ;-/ I presume the idea is the sealant sticks better to the primer than the glossy black rim.

Once dry, apply a blob of **Puraflex 40** to each nipple. That’s 104 blobs for 3 wheels but still < half an £8 tube, fyi.
**Individual blobs** as opposed to a continuous band like here are better for isolating leaks, as will soon be shown. But a **continuous band** ought to mean a guaranteed and complete seal. Decisions, decisions.

Let the Puraflex cure overnight, light a few candles and hope for the best.

Next day I felt fairly confident I’d sealed all three wheels but had some heavy tyre wrangling to do. Sod it I thought, why not support the local economy and let my LBS mount the tyres. They’ll have a tyre machine and a compressor with enough poke to shove the tubeless tyres onto the bead before they know what’s happening.
With 30 quid well spent, the tyres came out the shop rock hard. But would they stay that way? No, the two fronts were losing air. Casting aside seal damage during mounting, what were the chances of 104 blobs and 3 valves all being perfectly sealed? Only about 98% it seems. I turned the leaking wheels slowly through a trough of water and isolated a leaking spoke on each. I marked the spokes and whipped off the tyres, much easier now they’d been pre-flexed at the shop.

On the 19er I spotted a millimeter wide hole in the Puraflex (left) which the dab of Superglue underneath had also not sealed. I’ve not used Puraflex before – it’s not like a bathroom sealant and is PU, not silicon, based. Not sure what that means – the stuff was good and hard but had shrunk a bit as it dried. Perhaps the hole had opened up on curing, or perhaps I should have inspected each blob with a magnifying glass or given them all a pre-emptive second swipe of Puraflex once dried – that would take another day to dry. On the 21 incher I couldn’t see the hole under the corresponding spoke’s blob which underlines the idea of a second coat or even a continuous band. So I second-coated all the blobs and left it for another night. Weeks later the 21 (left at home) had lost just a couple of pounds so I’ll take that as a win.

All bolted on and first thing I noticed was the bike leant the same on the side stand, so clearly was no lower. Not that bothered as it’s one less thing to meddle with and the narrow saddle means my feet touch down OK. I guess the AX41s have high sidewalls; good for off-road and rim protection.
I went for a lovely evening ride. On the road the fresh tyres didn’t exhibit any anomalies, nor did the handling feel much different. I think it might take a more spirited ride through some bends to highlight any improvements in the steering. In Morocco I know just the spot, several in fact. The 19 is only 7mm wider than the 21, while the back 17-incher is the same as the stock IRC.

In Halfords I’d bought some Slime for later, but also carefully applied a shot of similar Tru-Tension tyre sealant (left) in the front wheel, squeezing it up into the valve set at 12 o’clock so it would dribble down along the rim’s well. This stuff contains ‘carbon fibre and graphene’ which are such cutting edge compounds I fell for it. Slime or similar have helped permanently seal other imperfect MYO TL jobbies, even though it shouldn’t be necessary if the job has been done well.
I rode back to London and then on to Fly & Ride near Gatwick. Whatever fuel I picked up in Poole, the CRF (now with 2200 miles on the clock) belted along like it was on methanol, holding an indicated 70 much of the time. But both tyres were still losing a bit of overnight air so I may have to spend a day in Morocco sorting it all out. I’ve packed Puraflex, some more Slime and a pair of tubes and levers.

Robbo, a fellow MYO TL experimenter does wonder whether Slime etc can soften rim sealants. These goops work under pressure but also centrifugally, getting flung out onto the inside of the tyre where punctures occur, but away from the hand-sealed rim well where, in my case, it’s as needed.
Much as Sixties psychedelic guru Tim Leary proposed that enlightenment and self-awareness must eventually be sought without the aid of drugs, so MYO TL should endeavour to seal without Slime. Tune in. Glue Up. Ride out.

Robbo showed me a niffy USB rechargeable 4000MAH tyre pump (above right) which topped my overnight tyres up quickly. I have my aged 12-volt Cycle Pump packed on the bike, but if I’ll be topping up regularly until they’re fixed, the 20-quid hand pump off ebay will be easy to whip out and use each morning. Let’s make rumpy pumpies while the lithium lasts.
I left my 300 in Fly & Ride’s yard alongside a cool ’72 750SS Commando. The period image on the left exists solely to highlight Norton’s questionable use of an apostrophe. It turned out the nicely set up 300 Rally also parked up belonged to another Robbo who was on my tour a year ago and by now is halfway to Dakar, or however far suits him.

So, a bit annoying to be flying out to Malaga next week to imperfect wheels, but what trip ever kicks off without some T’s uncrossed and I’s undotted? At least I have the means to fix it.

300L: The Purbeck Trails

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Isle of Purbeck according to Dorset CC’s Definitive Map. Free for all online, same as most county councils.

After my enjoyable runs along the TET’s Great West Trail in Dorset I cracked and joined the TRF to verify what else there might be in the area, particularly around the Isle of Purbeck. The TRF’s websites look smart, so does their quarterly Trail magazine now edited by Jon Bentham, formerly of Rust Sports, plus there’s a regular column by TRF ambassador, his excellency Austin Vince. They say membership has doubled in recent years to 8000 – now 8001. You wonder why; it’s not like trail biking in England and Wales has become popular all of a sudden, has it?
Of course what I’m really signing up for is not so much the Brotherhood of the Byway, but access to their Green Roads Map (above left), covering England and Wales. It’s similar to a local council’s Definitive Map (top of the page; explained previously) but maintained and updated by regional TRFers.

My Purbeck recce was largely inspired by finding a richly illustrated 1960s guidebook called Dorset, the Isle of Purbeck (above) by Rena Gardiner. One might call her artistic style expressionist (like Van Gogh), and in her prime she was a one-woman printing press and former Lambrettista. On my rides through Purbeck I’d pass many of the places she illustrated.

One thing with Purbeck as opposed to inland Dorset which the GWT traverses, is that it’s a lot more touristy. The road from Wareham via Corfe Castle to Swanage Bay is often clogged, probably like much coastal access in the West Country at this time of year. That means ramblers and dog walkers are afoot, not all of them conversant with the legal status of Byways, ORPAs, collectively: Unclassified Country Roads (UCR). It still felt unnerving setting off to trail ride in sleepy, bethatched Dorset as opposed to the peaty wastes of mid-Wales.

The rolling Purbeck hills below Kingston with Corfe castle straddling the gap.

After the hottest June since the Devonian Schism, followed by the wettest July since the Paleogene Upheaval, the Purbeck Hills were greener than a car-sick toddler. I left it a few days for the jet stream to shimmy off somewhere else, but it’s now August and upcountry campervanners are parading around with their dogs. So I decided to recce some bits by stealth on the MTB. It was a good idea.

Grange Arch – said to be the inspiration of Ian Fleming;s ‘arch villains’.

Right on the eastern edge of the Lulworth Firing Range army land, Ridgeway Hill leads east from Grange Hill viewpoint to Corfe Castle (left). At a deliriously long 4.4km it’s probably a county record. After a shirt while it passes the 18th-century folly of Grange Arch (above), looking down on Creech Grange, as drawn by Rena G, below.

‘*The name is Purbeck, James Purbeck*.’ Nope, doesn’t work.

Creech Grange was once the family seat of the Bond family who still own a lot of land on Purbeck, and after whom Ian Fleming named his famous agent, 007. Before attending the towel-flicking precincts of Eton, fledgling Fleming endured the character-forming torments of a Purbeck boarding school.

But what the TRF’s GRM or the Dorset DM don’t tell you is that the first 1.75km of this UCR, from the viewpoint past the Arch to a gate, is closed to motors from March till October. (I sent this info in to GRM updates but as before, no response.) But with the clear suggestion of (albeit seasonal) vehicle access, these two signs (left) were the only incontrovertible admissions that rideable Purbeck Trails even exist.

From the 500′ ridge there are great views south to the Jurassic Sea and north to Poole Harbour. At a gate an all-year UCR branch comes up from Stonehill Down to the north (above). It joins the Ridgeway and continues east (below) to cross a road snaking over a dip. Nice, wide open, hill top trail riding. Plenty of room for all.

Ridgeway hill east to Corfe. Let it roll.

At the road I chanced on the giant hillside lizard (left) that made the news the other day. Having pedalled the following section a few days earlier (shoo-ing away a herd of cows blocking the gate), I didn’t have the heart to re-ride it on the moto, as being close to Corfe’s congested campsites, it’s relatively busy with high summer ramblers. From the top the wide open trail looks down on Church Knowle (below) and the 700-year-old Barnstone Manor which, according to the DM, is Britain’s oldest inhabited house.

This UCR eventually drops off the spine of Knowle Hill and finds a back way into Corfe Castle, catching the castle ruins from a little seen aspect (left).
Built soon after 1066 and a strategic Royalists hold-out during the English Civil War, it was besieged and finally destroyed by Cromwell’s New Model Army in 1643.
From any angle the imposing castle towers over the Purbeck Stone clad village that takes its name, and in her book Rena G expended many pages on both (below). You wouldn’t know it but Purbeck has several still active quarries and many of England’s medieval cathedrals were clad in distinctive Swanage marble. Unusually, the roofs of Corfe’s houses use thick, Purbeck stone tiles.

Corfe in August is not a place to linger, unless you’ve no choice in a steaming traffic jam. On the far side of the gap which the castle once defended, the ridge rises again towards Swanage. Here Rollington Hill UCR switchbacks south over the ridge via a farm of that name.
I pull up at the turning where a sign (left) glared ‘No Access to Water Park, Turn Around’ along with a No Entry sign for good measure. I hesitate. I’m pretty sure it’s a public right of way and I’m not lost so I ride up the track towards the farm yard, any minute I’m expecting an ‘Oi!!, gerrof moi….’. With relief I reach the safely of a gate where the track rises up to a hilltop mast.

Coming down Rollington Hill with the castle in the background.

At another gate a grumpy looking rambler is tucking into her sarnies, blocking the way. I give her a cursory nod and use the walkers’ gate instead. Darlingly, this is a virgin trail I didn’t pre-ride on the MTB, but today am emboldened by a novel ruse: I’m dressed in my cheapo overalls which I like to think make me look like a farm worker looking for lost lambs, or a contractor for English Heritage seeking new Areas of Outstanding Natural Beauty. And it worked too. A few days later I was connecting another trail near Tolpuddle when I came across some young Hiluxers doing a suspension twisting turn in a bomb hole. Though they had just as much right to be here as me, they initially mistook me for some sort of warden.

Some 1300 metres later I’m on the asphalt and riding back into Corfe. Southwest of here lies the hilltop village of Kingston with it’s old-looking 19th century church poking out of the trees, and the ivy-clad Scott Arms pub below. According to ancient genealogical conventions, if I whisper the secret family motto I’m entitled to a free pint and a quarryman’s pasty.

Kingston was another popular subject for Rena Gardiner, particularly the ‘mini cathedral’ church in the New English Style, whatever that was. Inside there’s a superb array of stained glass from which it is fun to play Guess the Biblical Figures from their accoutrements. See how many you can guess.

Two UCRs span out near Kingston, but were it not for the GRM or DCC DM, you’d have no idea you could legally ride them. A footpath or bridleway sign might be the best you’ll see, which are clearly no invitation to motards. This patchy signage to discourage motos is to be expected. If you want to trail ride in the UK you need to ‘do your own research’ as Q-Anon-ers like to say. Fair enough – any journey or adventure needs planning.

South of Kingston an ORPA (UCR) turns off a valley running south to Chapmans Pool on the coast, and traverses some cow fields before dropping off the ridge along a gully which lead to what looked like an isolated farm on Google Earth.
On the way I passed an ambiguous sign (left) which I’ve now taken as code for a UCR. On the pushbike the gully gets a bit stony, so easier down than up on a gangly moto, but the ‘hillbilly farm with rabid dogs’ was just a harmless terrace of stone cottages before a road turned up to Renscombe Farm and Worth Matravers beyond.

I’ll come back on the 300L one time for that one. Another UCR runs west of Kingston to Smedmore Hill, navigating tall grass and deep ruts (above). It arrives at a gate near popular Swyre Hill walkers’ viewpoint, but a bench here overlooks Kimmeridge Bay and distant Portland Bill with views just as good (below). The GRM shows it as green (‘full access’) but following notes say the west end – a stony descent towards Kimmeridge village – is ‘non-vehicular’, so I guess it’s a legal dead end on a moto. On both the GRM and Dorset CC maps, the last kilometre of this UCR strays oddly across a cultivated field before rejoining the actual track close to the road. Could you push your bike down to the road to make the connection?

View from Smedmore Hill over Kimmeridge. But the moto trail ends here.

One UCR I definitely won’t bother riding on a Honda runs via East Orchard Farm just out of Corfe. Near the end of the road to Blashenwell a private sign advises ‘No Through Road’ (left). You can see curious holidaymakers straying out of Corfe and three-poing turning in Blashenwell farm yard, though technically there is a through road via East Orchard, it’s just a muddy UCR.
At a bend before Blashenwell, easy cow field tracks and gates lead to East Orchard Farm, but from here the UCR – signed as a footpath – becomes an overgrown, muddy stream bed, in places barely wide enough for an MTB. I get nettled and scratched and sodden. ‘Deep mud on some sections caused by agri-traffic…’ warns the GRM, but you wouldn’t even get a farmer’s quad in here. Only motos will make it worse. With the racket and spray a moto would make trying to push through the 500m to West Orchard Farm, honestly, it ain’t worth it, even if it’s allowed.

East Orchard? Leave it – it ain’t worth it!

My recce of the Trails of Purbeck is done: adding up to less than clicks (seasonal restrictions permitting) or nearly 6 miles off-asphalt over as many separate trails. It sounds pathetic but, like the GWT, on road or trail it sure gets you into some lovely countryside.

Just beyond the ‘Isle’s’ vague western perimetre near Lulworth Camp, another UCR called Daggers Hill Drove scoots up and over a hill in 2.4km. On top an army Landrover was watching, but you could drive this easy track in a Micra to avoid the traffic streaming out of nearby Lulworth Cove.
North of here, near the little-known Winfrith nuclear plant which they’ve been decommissioning for 20 years, is a 2km trail west to Redbridge. I took a chance down it coming back from the GWT a few weeks back, only to discover later it was a kosher UCR after all. I must be getting a good nose for Dorset UCRs! Reversing it today while dodging a few big puddles, I pass a fellow trail biker on a KLX250! Good on him, exercising his ancestral right to ride this route.

‘Public route’ on Moreton Drive – code for ‘road’

The day’s last trail was an intriguing 2.3 clicks straight through a forest north of Moreton village. Only, not for the first time I didn’t scrutinize the map forensically enough and clock the F-word buried deep in the detail. F for ‘ford’ that is – across the River Frome which delineates Purbeck’s northern boundary. I rolled up to a scene of kids splashing about while parents scrutinised their phones on deckchairs (below)
I observed the kids’ knees as closely as was appropriate, and in my head extrapolated probable leg length from teenage anatomy (based on current dietary trends) and decided not to risk it, even pushing. Deep fording can ruin engines and is something I save for absolute necessity. The other day our old Rover car died after bombing through a six-inch ford near the house. It dried off and restarted after 15 minutes, but now I crawl through at walking pace.
Had no one been around, at Moreton I might have hopped onto the footbridge which looked rideable on a small bike. I’ll test wade it one time. ‘Deep ford in winter’ warns the GRM. Deep enough in summer too.
Not to be thwarted, I scooted around a couple of miles to the northern end of the Moreton Drive – you could ride it on a RD350LC – and arrived at the ford from the other side. It didn’t look any shallower, so I turned round and headed home.

Riding back through Bovington Camp I clocked a Costa / Greggs combo – always good to know out here in the sticks.

I also passed the point where, in 1935, T E Lawrence (left) had his fatal crash on what was his seventh Brough Superior SS100 – the ‘Rolls Royce’ of motorcycles in the inter-war era. Lawrence just left the military a few months earlier and was heading back to his humble cottage up the road at Clouds Hill. You probably know the rest.

T E Lawrence’s grave in Moreton cemetery

At what appears to be a roadside tank training viewing area/car park, there’s a low-key memorial stone by a tree, plus a well-written info board about Lawrence (above right) which also addresses the enduring ‘Catchpole Conspiracy‘.
It turns out Lawrence is buried at the cemetery back in Moreton, and it’s said the neurosurgeon who attempted to treat his terrible head injuries went on to recommend the use of crash helmets for WW2 army despatch riders, and here we are today.

Adventure Motorcycling Handbook

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