BMW G310GS: first ride in Morocco [video]

310GS reappraisal a few months later

In a line
Great-looking mini GS that’s not at all bad for what it is, but don’t kid yourself it’s anything other than a 30-hp road-bike motor packed into a 170-kilo bike.

Note: this was a brand new bike but with several non-standard mods. More below.

• Feels like a full-size mini GS
• Indian-made build quality looks solid
• Efi motor runs smoothly up to 2200m/7200′
• Great brakes and easily switchable ABS
• * Mitas E-07/ Metz Karoo 3 do-it-all tyres better than stock
• 19″ front wheel great on road and trail
• Suspension, including USD forks, surprisingly well damped
• Good economy – averaged 88 mpg (73.2 US; 31.3kpl; 3.21L/100k)
• Range looks good too; well over 300km or about 200 miles
• Yes it’s 169kg wet (claimed) but like a GS12, it carries it well.

• Thin, soft seat
• Occasional stalling off 1st gear
• Mirrors blur above 90kph as vibes set in
• LCD display a bit hard to read in bright sun
• Tiny screen
• * G650GS spoke wheel conversion loses tubeless feature
• * Clanking DIY bashplate and front fender hits DIY engine bar on compression
• It’s only a ‘310’

* Non-factory modifications

Note this recall: dodgy sidestand. Followed by owners’ comments.
Long termer – also interesting to read

Review
In Morocco Honda XR250 Tornado imports stopped a couple of years back and the Marrakech rental agency I use for my fly-in tours is finally replacing their weary 7-year old XRs with the BMW G310GS. Honda’s newer CRF250L had been a contender too, but Honda Morocco don’t list it. As it is, the 310s suit the agency’s BMW profile and their brilliant, unkillable Tornados, some with over 100,000km on the clock, have paid for themselves many times over. It will be interesting to see if the 310GS stand up as well and for as long.
I flew out for three days with two mates, both experienced desert and overland riders. At the end of it neither were that excited by the 310; it’s a big bike with a small engine. I myself was pleasantly surprised.

Performance
Officially, BMW claim the 310GS makes 34hp at 9500rpm. An independent dyno run here shows it’s more like 30hp and Cycle World got a similar figure (left). No great surprise there; most official manufacturers’ figures are optimised.
Although the bike doesn’t feel that heavy once on the move, the additional 20% of power over a regular 250 is negated by a similar weight gain adding up to a claimed 169kg. Coming down the twisty R203 back to Marrakech, the old Tornado (135kg) could just about keep up. Climbing up to the pass it struggled, especially once the carb started choking on the elevation. I never revved the 310 over 5-6000rpm, nor really needed or wanted to; the efi helps it pull smoothly but above 6000 it all got unpleasantly buzzy. And yet, according to the Cycle World power graph it’s only making 20hp at 6000rpm after which the extra 10hp pile in. Even then, I suspect that like any bike this size, riding across Spain on a mission to Morocco wouldn’t be much fun.
Brakes were great as you’d expect. On the dirt it was the weight and suspension which held us back alongside the XR, and on road or trail I tend not to brake hard to maintain momentum. I forced the ABS on a couple of times to see how it responded and, with no frights, was happy to leave it on. Overall it’s a huge potential benefit, especially on the front.
The slightly notchy gearbox I can forgive at such low mileage, but the occasional stalling on pulling away or at low rpm was irritating and I read is not unique to our two GSs. It’s possibly a gutless, negligible-flywheel small-bike knack to overcome with experience and more rpm. Cutting out as I tried to ease round a steep hairpin without feathering the clutch nearly tipped me over. You’d hope a remap at a service may iron this out.

Economy and range
Over three fill ups my 310 averaged 88 mpg/73.2 US – 31.3kpl – 3.21L/100k. The official BMW website claims 3.33L/100km (94mpg) which like the hp, also sounds massaged. Still, that was some 20% more than the 88,000-km old XR which, with the same sized 11-litre tank, completed a 230km loop on fumes. Meanwhile, it looked like the 310 was good for at least 300km at that consumption. But – I hardly ever exceeded 90kph (56mph) at which point the vibes set in. As I often observe with these small-bike mpg comparisons, if I rode a bigger bike like my XSR and especially the ultra frugal CB500X RR at such modest speeds, I bet (in fact, I have) got similar fuel mileage, but with the benefit of proper overtaking and cruising speeds when wanted or needed. It’s possible of course that the mileage could improve as the bike runs in, and that our lowered 21/25 psi tyre pressures didn’t help efficiency.

Build quality
Looking the new bike over, there’s nothing glaringly cheap or shoddy to suggest this bike is made in the same place they build Enfield Bullets. Paint, welds, plastics, assembly and finish all look well up to BMW’s standards. That may all change after a few months rental use.
At the end of the first day’s piste bashing we thumped and waggled various bits to make sure nothing had come loose or broken, but apart from the fender and non-stock crash bar or bashplate clanking, all looked in order. Under the seat was a handbook in Turkish and a near-proper toolkit which included spindle spanners (won’t fit the new spoke wheel nuts) and a C-spanner for the shock. And for load-carrying duties the rear subframe looked a lot more chunky than what you’d find on a CRF250L for example.

Suspension
I was pleasantly surprised or should I say relieved by the springing. Weighing 92kg (Simon is nearer 70kg), I was expecting the hefty GS with 180mm/7 inches of travel to cripple me on the dirt- or on broken roads. The 310 was certainly slower on the dirt than the clapped-out XR, but road or trail the spring rates and suspension damping felt unusually good compared to cheaply sprung Jap bikes like my XSR before I did it up. Like any big or modestly sprung bike, as long as you progressed smoothly, rough roads and trails were fine. On our bikes the front fender pushed against the DIY engine crash bar and somehow rubbed on the tyre knobs underneath (you can hear it in the video above at 2:48). They ought to fix that before the fender cracks.
If I owned a G310GS I’d fit some firmer forks springs and consider a shock spring, but it’s a relief to have half-decent suspension out of the crate, as I recalled on the F650GS SE from 2012.
The USD forks aren’t adjustable but USDs usually have better action than conventional forks; the back shock can be cranked with a C-spanner once you remove the LHS side panel. We thought about it but didn’t bother.

The Rally Raid G310GS RR kit

Following their deservedly successful Honda CB500X RR conversion which I also used in Morocco, Rally Raid have developed a similar kit for the G310GS in their quest for supporting smaller machines to use as real-world, all-road travel bikes. I’ve not seen, far less ridden this bike but there’s a lengthy development thread on the advrider vendor forum, and on the same website Jenny Morgan has just set off to ride a new 310GS RR along the Trans America Trail, as she did with a CB500X RR a couple of years back.
Rally Raid’s kit replicates some of what Loc2roues have done to the 310s we rode: proper bash plate and engine guard, hand guards, tail rack, all-road tyres and a conversion to spoked wheels. IMO this last modification is redundant on a road-oriented travel bike – this isn’t a WR250 – but at least Rally Raid offer to make the spoked wheels (1150g lighter up front; 2kg heavier at the back) tubeless which is a real benefit on the road.
Beyond that, Rally Raid will do you a taller screen, suspension improvements, swaps and height increases, bar risers, lighter pipes and other accessories, but I see no wider footrests listed, nor a seat. I’d imagine they’ll get round to those. You could spend over two grand to end up with a slightly heavier but much more functional bike that still only makes 30-hp. But heck, it sure looks good and the suspension upgrades ought to eat up the trails.

Road riding
Coming back over the High Atlas with the tyres back at 2 bar (BMW manual recommends a rather low 1.7-1.9 bar), me ‘broken in’ to the machine and in a bit of a rush to catch the plane, the 310 swung effortlessly through the hundreds of bends up and down the R203 Test n Test road. Along with me knowing this road well, great ABS brakes the now worn-in new Karoo 3 tyre on a 19-inch wheel all helped with stability and confidence to make the GS fun to ride.

But on a flat straight road and reluctant to cane the new engine, the 310 feels little better than a 250, albeit still adequate for the quiet Moroccan backroads. Initially the bike’s bulk can trick your brain into thinking you’re on a 650 until you try and nip past something. This is to be expected with any bike of this size and weight, but at 90kph the usefully wide mirrors blurred and the motor got unpleasantly buzzy. Top speed they say is 144kph/89mph but at the speeds we rode, the handling and brakes have little danger of being outrun by the engine’s performance; ideal for inexperienced riders, especially in wet conditions or on the dirt.

Comfort
The seating position feels natural; for once I’m not cramped nor look it. But it took just a couple of minutes out of Marrakech to notice the thin and soft padding of the 835mm/33″ seat. I thought it might be a thinner, lowered option but was told it was standard. This was by far the worse thing on the 310, recalling my agony on the F650GS SE I rode here a few years back. Add the big step and it means you can’t slide back. As mentioned, the vibes over 6000rpm (about 100kph) make it uncomfortable to travel above this speed, but the vibes may fade with some miles or the engine smooth out at higher rpm.
You sit fairly far back; the tiny screen was too short to be effective, although if crouched right down I could just get under the vented wind blast. Taller screens will be an easy fitment.
I didn’t meddle much with the modes of the LCD display whose digits I found a bit thin or too small to read in bright sunshine, but all the basic functions are there, hopefully including the ability to swap between kph and mph when abroad.

Off road
Swapping with the MTB-like XR on the trail, you notice straight away how much more slowly and carefully you need to pilot the 310. That’s to be expected for what it is (I keep saying this!), but it was still possible to roll along smoothly thanks to the efi, suspension and general layout (dropping the tyres to 21/25 definitely helped). The suspension never bottomed out hard, not did the ally bashplate clang on anything other than kicked-up stones or the engine.

Even without risers I (6′ 1″) could stand up with only a small stoop (above left), but after a while the narrow pegs became uncomfortable, even on my off-road boots, compelling me to sit back down. On the slow, rough track up to the 2200-m Tizi n Oumerzi pass the other two said the fans kicked in and the bikes were hard work, but when I took over on the smoother descent the 310 was great fun – to be honest like any adv bike, large or small. (With ambient temperatures up to 34°C, I myself never heard the fan come on. You wonder if the reversed engine – exhaust pipe at the back – may help keep the radiator cool).

Conclusion
This new-ish 300-cc category is a bit obscure in the UK and much of the developed world; offering little extra over the well-established and huge selection of 250s. Elsewhere class or power categories may be different and must be where the main market for this bike lies (in India it costs about £3260).
Before I rode it I assumed that the G310GS would be poor compromise for my sort of riding: too heavy and road-oriented for off-road exploring beyond smooth gravel tracks (like my current XScrambleR), but too underpowered on the open road in the face of hills, headwinds, traffic and payloads unless you cane the nuts off it (like last year’s WR250R).
This may be so but in Morocco the GS felt right in its element. The easy trails and quiet, sub-100kph backroads suited the 310 (or any ‘250’, tbh). That ought to translate to a good small RTW travel bike where the last thing you actually need is a quarter-ton, 140-hp behemoth. But I’ve found choosing a bike with this little power depends a lot on your weight (if not your size), the load carried and your expectations. When overlanders settle for the clear-cut limitations of a 250 they hope to gain a more manageable machine off-road. You wont get that with the 310. For my one-week tours it’ll probably be more suited to experienced riders comfortable with its weight and bulk on the dirt; the lowish seat helps here over the annoyingly tall XR.
So if you’ve owned a lot of bikes, large and small, the 310GS isn’t such an exciting proposition, but I’m sure its great looks, price, spec and bulk will lure newer, younger riders into the all-conquering Cult of GS.

Otherwise, at about the same price Honda’s new for 2021 CRF300L Rally might be worth a look: lighter, better protection and the similarly great looks which these image-conscious millennial demand. And it’ll surely be more nimble on the dirt.

Tested: Adventure Spec Linesman jacket

Leave a reply

Tested: Adventure Spec Linesman softshell jacket

Where: 1600km off-road tour in southern Algeria, a few days in Morocco in April and another month riding in Morocco in November.

UK price: ~~£249~~ £349
Supplied free for testing by Adv Spec

Weight: 1011g + armour; size tested: Large (me: 6ft 1in/186cm • 205lbs/93kg)

Additional photos by Dan W, Dave K, Karim H and Robin W

• Light and comfy to wear
• Stylish, low-key design makes it wearable off the bike
• Ready for armour (not included)
• Lots of pockets, including on the back
• High collar
• Sleeves zip off
• Vertical back vents work with a daypack

• Expensive now
• New colour scheme (right) looks less good than 1st-gen green
• Not that breathable; for warm conditions try the similar but open-weave Mongolia or the Atacama Race
• Don’t expect the protected feel of a fully armoured Cordura jacket

What they say:
A windproof and breathable trail riding/rally jacket reinforced with Du Pont™ Kevlar® fabric on the key abrasion zones. Reinventing the trail riding jacket, via the tracks of the Trans Euro Trail.
For decades the trail rider had very limited options when it came to riding jackets. Either big bulky motorcycle kit that was restrictive and heavy, or lightweight outdoor gear that offered little protection. It always seemed like too much of a compromise. The Linesman Jacket is the culmination of the depth of expertise that Adventure Spec has established helping many tens of thousands of riders travel untold miles around the world.

Review
In 2018 Adv Spec introduced a batch of own-branded jackets including the vented Atacama Race, the similar open-weave Mongolia and a softshell Linesman aimed at trail riders. It has been named after the volunteer researchers on the Trans Europe Trail (TET) which Adv Spec support – comparable with Touratech US’s Backcountry Discovery Routes (BDR); a riding gear outlet sponsoring and even under-writing well researched ride routes.

I miss my old Mountain Hardwear softshell (right), left on a bus in Delhi after a couple of epic Himalayan bike rides. Back then, outdoorsy softshell was quite pricey; a stretchy polyester outer fabric bonded (sometimes via a breathable membrane) to a soft, micro-fleece liner producing a lightweight shell that’s nice and non-rustly to wear while keeping the windchill at bay.
What makes Adv Spec’s Linesman different from an outdoor-sports softshell is the lack of a membrane (my Mountain Hardwear was annoyingly sweaty; not really breathable) or even a DWR coating. Instead you get a kevlar overlay on the high-wear or impact areas (the green parts) as well as front chest pockets which work as vents to purge through similar zipped slots on the back.

Your Linesman is not intended for tearing around Brands Hatch on you Gixxer, nor touring Alpine passes in late summer. It’s aimed at trail riders who’ll be doing their riding and crashing at much lower speeds. To make that less painful there are armour pockets at the elbow, shoulders and the back.

If you add in a hook or velcro tab at the top, this back sleeve could double up as a bladder holder. The Atacama Race comes with this feature; however it’s done, it would be good to see it added to the Linesman, even if a useful two litres might put a strain on the jacket. It’s nice to not have to use a day pack to contain your hydrator.

The shoulder armour pockets thoughtfully pin up out of the way towards the collar because on the Linesman you can zip-off the sleeves. The theory is, with the sleeves stashed in the rear pouches, the jacket more wearable in hot conditions. While I’m pretty blasé about armour, I’d still rather ride with sleeves. If I’m getting stuck into a sweaty work like a tube puncture, I’d probably just take the jacket off. But I can see the value in removing them while retaining the security and utility of the pockets, perhaps on a warm TET evening in southern Europe for an amble down to the village bar. Update: In Morocco in April it was over 30°C so I did ride unsleeved and very pleasant it was too. The other two were cooking in their membrane jackets.

There are no less than eight pockets: two on the outside at the hem as big as your hand; two smaller vertical chest pockets which double up as vents (so probably not a place for your phone or wallet); two more zipped pouches above the back hem which you can just reach with the jacket on; and two huge and very handy mesh ‘drop pockets’ inside (below left). I find these most useful and have added mesh versions to my other riding jackets; an easy and secure place to stash gloves of maps without having to interact with zips apart from the front one.

I can see the thinking behind water-resistant YKK zips on the front pockets/vents, but unfortunately this makes them too stiff to operate one-handed on the move and as you can see left on the top zip, the press-seal doesn’t close up fully to keep water out.
Seeing as these are the more-used zips, I’d prefer the conventional, freer-flowing zips as used on the rear vents and pockets (the lower zip pictured above). After all, the main front zip is the same. This ease of use applies especially to the front chest pocket/vents which are handy to open or close on the move while leaving the rear vents open. Like on my Klim Overland, these rear vents are inaccessible with the jacket on, let alone on the move; it’s often easier to ask another rider to zip you up or down. If it’s raining valuables are better off in a waterproof pouch while you either get a bit wet or pull on a mac.

What did the others wear in Algeria?
I have a rather casual sense of dress in the desert and prefer not to feel hot or sweaty. I don’t like being weighed down or in-your-full-face lids or synthetic legwear and I don’t mind being cold for a short while. I wore: TKC Baja boots, Klim Outrider trousers, the Linesman with a wicky/merino undershirt plus a Shoei open face. I was comfortable with these choices and unlike many, couldn’t be bothered change once at the camp.
Of the dozen other riders; 10 wore full-face MX, most with goggles; 3 had neck braces; at least 5 wore full armour underjackets over vests or jackets; 7 wore Cordura riding jackets all the time and probably with armour – the rest wore jerseys most of the time; 1 wore waxed cotton + armour; 10 wore nylon riding (over?) pants probably with armour; 1 wore jeans with armour and 1 wore leather trousers.

The sort of riding I did in Algeria added up to a half-day on the plateau highway at elevations up to 1600-m, regular gravel pistes, gnarlier soft sand and 2nd-gear sandy tussock oueds, short dune crossings, churned up sandy canyons, and wide-open sand sheet down at 500m, all with regular stops to allow regrouping and playing the sand. Temperatures ranged from freezing mornings to the upper-20s Centigrade.

Underneath I wore a wicky T-shirt or long sleeve, either synthetic (right) or merino when chillier. That’s quite a mix of terrain, speeds and temperatures wearing similar kit; I tend to put up with short-term discomforts rather than faff about with layers. Through it all the Linesman unobtrusively coped with the occasional opening or closure of the rear vents. I wore mine with only Forcefield elbow armour (left). I must admit I’d have felt better crashing hard in a Cordura jacket, with or without armour. Softshell has a rubbery feel which would snag as you slide and tumble, especially on the road where thick Cordura abrades almost as well as leather. Luckily that’s not something I’ve done for decades and on this trip it was just the usual slow/no speed spills.

Best of all, I like the Linesman’s plain styling while not being yet more boring grey or all-black. Others, including non-bikey types, commented on the stylish, look too; something you can wear off the bike without handing over a pizza. Maybe it’s the design or maybe it’s the stretchy fabric which see a total lack of adjustability using cinch-cord, poppers or velcro. The plain elasticated cuffs and neck don’t need doing up or pinning down once the Linesman’s on. It all helps enhance the look without detracting from the jacket’s function.

It’s probably not the only biking jacket you’d want to own, and you do wonder how durable the softshell will be after a couple of years of inevitable scuffing, but the Linesman does represent a new type of biking jacket with as much optional impact protection and storage as a typical Cordura-and-membrane coat, but more on-the-road windproofing than the fully vented jackets like Revit’s Cayenne Pro, Klim’s Inverse or Adv Spec’s own Mongolia and Atacama.

Tested: 7 years with TCX Baja Mid boots

2 Replies

In a line
Did the job for 7 years on 13 bikes

Where tested: Algerian Sahara, southern Morocco, back garden chainsawing, etc

Cost: £200
Supplied free for review by TCX UK

Weight: 1017g each

In 2025, after seven years one mismatched strap was bodged on, then I managed to poke a hole in the toe of the other. I left them in Marrakech.

What they say:
Designed for Adventure both on and off road, and on and off the bike, the TCX Baja Boots are built to be protective on the bike and walkable on the trail. Full grain leather upper for durability and lasting good looks. Polyurethane inserts at the ankle, heel and toe. The perfect hybrid of a low hiking boot and a high motocross boot, the TCX Baja Mid Cut Boots will take you where the adventure leads, over any terrain, through any weather. [Revzilla]

Full grain leather upper
Suede front and rear padded areas increase comfort
Soft padded upper collar
Waterproof membrane lining
CFS Comfort Fit System
Ergonomic shin plate reinforcement
PU malleolus [ankle bone], toe and heel inserts
Leather shift pads
Inner suede heat guard offers maximum grip
2 interchangeable, micro-adjustable ALU6060 aluminum buckles for superior fit
Anatomical and replaceable footbed
High performance rubber compound sole with differentiated grip areas for stability and traction on any terrain
CE certified

No longer listed by TCX in early 2024. Forma Adventure Low Boots look similar.

What I think:

• Light, do-it-all boots for gravel-roading and even hiking off the bike
• Solid construction lasted years of desert and mountain tracks
• Easy to operate, adjustable buckles
• Look good in natural brown
• Non-clammy and wading waterproof membrane

• Depending on the bike’s peg size, soft instep gets sore standing off road after a while
• One buckle clamp frequently came undone, eventually fell off and could not be correctly replaced
• Would prefer some tread on the soles, which other Adventure boots have

Review
My old Altberg road boots were showing the years. Bought from a junk shop for 20 quid, they were OK for my Morocco tours but didn’t have solid protection nor a stiff on-the-footrests instep for a two-weeker in Algeria on an XR400 in 2018.

I’ve been eyeing up the Italian TCX brand, in particular the Baja Mids from the ‘Touring – Adventure’ line looked good in natural hide and looked like they fitted my needs.
For my sort of non-competitive desert riding I don’t believe full-height, full-on MX boots are necessary. Looking back I see I only wore such things (Alpine Stars; right) on my very first desert trip in 1982.

In the real world I’m not blasting through shallow rivers or showers of stones on my way to the chequered flag, but solid ankle support and foot protection are important for any form of biking, particularly off-road where a typical slow speed fall-over often sees the bike drop on your foot (as happened to a rider on our trip, cooling his sore foot, left). After another crippling accident on our ride, a couple of us wondered whether in a foot-catching-a-side-rut scenario, a solid, full-height MX boot transfers more twisting force to the knee than a mid-height boot like my Baja which lets the shin bones twist a bit before a knee ligaments snaps.

I’ve had problems with narrow hiking boots, over the years, but the UK11 / EU46 Bajas fitted me just right. Your foot slips smoothly into the padded lining where you can replace the basic footbed to suit your needs, though for bike riding they’re not that critical. Everything clamps down with two micro-adjustable buckles which look like they could take the odd whack from a rock and should be replaceable, but weren’t. This is all a lot less faff than the zips on my old Altbergs which have lasted, but occasionally refused to budge until you reboot, so to speak.

Being mid-height means tucked-in trousers may tuck-out on the move. I also found if wearing short socks the padded edge of the upper collar chaffs on bare shins, as any boot would. The solution is knee-high socks or as I did, tuck trouser-ends into the short socks. Or of course you can wear them OTB for hipster soirees. Being short, they’re light too at just over a kilo each, same as my Lowa desert boots. I never had that encumbered, boxy feeling I recall from full-height MX boots.

When it came to standing and riding over rough terrain, as long as the pegs are larger-than-standard the Bajas supported my feet comfortably and with no pressure, just like a proper MX boot. Elsewhere, the instep gets sore after a while.

I occasionally wander into rivers and puddles and the Baja’s waterproofness holds up, and all day in the deserts they never become uncomfortably clammy to wear which suggests a more breathable, higher quality membrane.

There’s no word on what the membrane is on the Baja description, but TCX’s generic Gore-Tex page suggests all TCX boots use one grade of Gore-Tex or another. In my experience, cheaper membranes err towards waterproofness rather than true breathability which results in clamminess round the clock.

Fast forward to early 2024 and the Baja Mids are hanging in there, getting used at least twice a year in Morocco on whatever I’m riding at the time. I don’t even bother cleaning the dust off any more and they just do the job unobtrusively. One of the clamps that was always opening up fell off and I couldn’t find an exact replacement; a bodged on clamped worked OK.

There’s never been an occasion where I wished they were full-height which might rub on the side of the bike. Depending on the size of a bike’s footrests, my insteps might a bit sore after 20 minutes of standing off-road, but larger pegs cure that. I’m sure I’ll get another five years out of them but spring 2025 a rock or something poked a hole in the toe (top of the page) in the High Atlas meaning fords resulted in a wet foot. I also wonder if the waterproofing membrane had has its day.

All up, after about 12 months and about 25,000km of sustained, actual use over the years, in 2025 I left them in Marrakech and bought a pair of similar but treaded Forma Adventure Lows (left) which I hope will last as long and be a bit more grippy when scrambling up rocky banks to grab a photo.

Honda XR400 in the Algerian Sahara

Leave a reply

Additional pix by Dan W, Dave K and Robin W.
For the full story on our tour read this.

Having had a couple of XR400s on previous desert tours, I’ve long wanted to try one for myself and finally got a MY 2000 model in late 2017. I rode it up and down the road, got some man-caving mates to fix a few things up, then loaded it into a van bound for Germany and Algeria.
Even if they’d have made easier work of it, I couldn’t bring myself to splash out at least twice as much for a KTM and the like. There’s very little in this old category but the XR was a safe, undemanding choice which I was pretty sure wouldn’t disappoint me on the sort of riding I was expecting.

Quick stats
• Produced from 1996-2004
• Air-cooled, dry-sump, RFVC, 5-speed
• 34hp @ 6500rpm
• 116kg dry
• 36.6” / 930mm claimed seat height
• 9.5 litre tank (~150km range)
• Disc brakes and 18/21-inch wheels
• Go from around £2000 used in the UK

• Light
• Easy kick starting
• Enough power
• Great suspension, all things considered
• Looks great if you’re of a certain age

• Tall seat height
• Unimpressive, carb-era economy
• Kick only
• Dry-sump oil-level checking faffery
• Was never a contender as a good travel bike (skimpy subframe)
• No modern version exits

Some other bikes I considered were:

• DRZ400
Has the button but 15-20kg heavier, more trail bike less dirt bike and finding a decent one with few owners and that’s not covered in naff Monster stickers is tricky.
• Husaberg FE450
Liked the unusual engine and good reputation of later models but obscure = hard to sell on and anyway, it’s a hardcore enduro racer.
• KTM 500 EXC`
Less frantic than a 450, lighter than a 690 and easy to sell on, but efi ones cost thousands and anyway ‘KTM relaxed’ ≠ XT500.
• KLX450R
Unchanged since 2008 and said to be the ‘softest’ of the Jap 450 enduros but carb’d and rare in the UK. But again, softest is all relative.
• KLX250S
Better suspension than a CRF-L but it’s still only a 250. I’ve had enough 250s for the moment.

My XR showed 8550km (5300m) on the clock and looked in good nick. It had a small rack, bashplate and an OK front tyre so not much needed adding of fixing for a fortnight in the desert: a new Mitas E09 on the back with Slime in the tubes and self-tapers through the rims to stop tyre creep.
New wheel bearings (old ones rusted right up – jet wash victims, I guess) plus fatter pegs and a Trail Tech temperature gauge. Air- or water-cooled, I’m a believer in closely monitoring actual engine temps in the desert. I also got TTR-Simon (on the tour) to add my old Barkbuster Storms and Rox risers, plus a disc of HDPE (chopping board plastic) melted and bolted under the side stand foot – a light and simple way of doing it.

Before flying out to Algeria I had a thought that my kick-only XR might take a lot of starting after being transported across the freezing Alps, the salty Med and half the dusty, arid Sahara. But came the day in Illizi I nearly fell off the seat when it lit up first kick and proceeded to do so throughout the rest of the trip, whether baking hot or freezing cold.

Once geared up, leaving Illizi we were thrown in the deep end with a short but sandy ride to our first dune camp. Those new to sand or who’d not ridden it for ages – like me – were a bit startled but eventually remembered what to do: gun it and hold on. The XR felt light, well sprung and reasonably responsive (this was on road pressures), though not enough to make me want to blast up wayside dunes for the hell of it. Most of us felt the same way; there was plenty of rugged riding ahead.
FYI, the other bikes on the tour were a CRF250L (DNF); two BMW XChallenges (1 DNF; injury), two KTM 690s, Husaberg 450, two bored-out 315-cc Yamaha TTR250s, KTM 350 EXC, Husqvarna TE300 2T, XR250R and an old KTM 640 Adventure. All of these bikes appeared to cope as well with the riding and, like the XR, none of them needed anything more than the slightest attention. Read the full ride report on advrider.

Fast forward a few days and my XR had impressed me and saved my arse many times; most commonly when I was certain I was about to go over the bars following an unexpected drop-off, trench or general gnarliness. I thank the light weight – it really is the answer to so many issues on the dirt – and the Showa forks on whatever setting the bike came with. The rebuilt rear Showa shock also did a great job without any meddling. It goes to show that good quality suspension on a light bike works well over a broad spectrum – or how easily pleased I am.

The XR is relatively short and tall and George (who followed us in the pickup over the tour) observed that the Jap bikes (XRs and TTRs) appeared relatively less stable compared to the generally racier European bikes. My XR does look short and high alongside a long-swingarmed 690 and I can’t say it rode the sand seas like an ocean liner, nor trickled through grassy tussocks like a Montesa. That may have caused fatigue and palm blisters after a few days, but the relative skittishness never made me to crash outright.

Dave (690 fan) and I have an ongoing banter about why I should get ‘the best trail bike ever’. While the 690 KTM does appear to give you your cake (lightness, economy, power, tough build) so you can eat it; I still find it and the similar Husky 701 I rode in Morocco too full-on, narrow-saddled and vibey; still more enduro racer than trail bike. A quick spin on Rob’s 690 (left) didn’t change my mind and anyway, for the use I’d give it, with the attention it needs and my lack of secure parking/well-lit workshop space, such a bike would be an extravagance.

Kick-starting may be old school but the only time my XR took some starting was after it fell over long enough to drain the carb. Soon enough I learned to just keep kicking away whereupon it eventually coughed then fired up. This can be awkward (on a dune) or just plain tiring after a couple of minutes, so a button would be great. It can be done on an XR by fitting a motor (or crankcase?) from a Honda TRX400 quad – try and find one of those on ebay in good nick. TTR-Simon is currently engaged in such a project; he’s also producing a 350 barrel kit for the electric TTR 250s. Neither job’s an easy solution, but both these bikes – one too small cc, the other unbuttoned – comes with the great suspension and to make it worthwhile – possibly.

A couple of days in, looping some loops I smelled burning oil which turned out to be my bike. Dave (690 and ex-XR400) said the ‘RFVC‘ radial valve set-up tends to ovalise the valve guides due to non-inline forces. Sounds plausible and as the motor never started rattling as long as I kept the oil level up, I was sure it would complete the ride. The strain on the motor and transmission when hauling me over deep, soft sand or up a dune slope is not what I’m used to in the desert, but I never felt the XR needed to be nailed WFO to get the job done. That’s why we like 400-450s over 250s.

I’m guessing RFVC was an over-complicated way of optimising power by improving gas flow with the biggest possible valves. I was also told I might have released more power by easily removing the baffle, but I doubt it would’ve made a noticeable improvement – just a lot more noise which is often mistaken for the same thing.

Though I forgot to consider it before departure, the 14/45 gearing on my XR turned out to be spot on for what we were doing; ie: on the low side. On the road, 90kph and once or twice 100 felt like enough and the close-ratio, 5-speed box never bogged (the XR250’s gearing was a lot wider). The chain was feeling the strain too, and needed two clicks during the 1600-km trip; what a pleasure those old school snail cams are to use. Low and close gearing also meant the clutch was never under strain.

Fuel consumption was pretty poor by my recent standards – down to just 100km to a tank or 150 to dry (45mpg). I bet the bigger efi 650s and 690s were doing much better – small engines aren’t always more efficient when you take into account power-sapping terrain or high-speed roads. I didn’t pull the spark plug but the bike did feel like it may have been running rich, even if starting and carburation were spot on. Better to leave it that way in the desert, even at the cost of mpg as the engine runs a little cooler.

Measured off the cylinder head, that temp gauge was handy for reading overnight ambients down to zero. On the road the bike ran in the 80s °C and up to 120 when pushed hard on slow dirt, heating briefly up another 10C or more when stopped or ticking over after a hard run. Though I didn’t like doing it, switching off after a couple of minutes seemed best as ticking-over saw the temps climb and climb, even with a breeze. Turned off, it only rose for a few minutes then dropped away quickly. I seemed to be the only one pre-occupied about cool running, but for an old, air-cooled engine I’m sure it’s important. Mechanic Simon (who knows XR4s and engines more than me – since diagnosed light glazing on my XR’s bore which will hone out with new rings and a lapping of the valve seats with new seals. As he says: ‘I think when stationary the engine should be off unless there’s a strong breeze. Combustion chamber temp should not rise further with no source of heat, but the temperature [spike] will move towards the outside of the engine as the temperature gradient changes (imagine it like a wave [of heat] radiating from the plug to the fins) which is why the sensor [briefly] records a continued rise.

The rear Mitas E09 (non Dakar; 1 less ply and a bit lighter) wore very well, (right: after 1000 miles), but on the sands 1 bar / 15psi was still too hard for this stiff tyre on a light bike, even with my weight. On the last day on sand I tried 12psi (~0.8 bar) and noticed less squirreling when pulling away and improved traction elsewhere. Tough as a Michelin Desert but less than half price, I’d use one again for similar riding. I had no punctures (nor did anyone else on this trip).

So thumbs up for the classic XR4; one of the best trail bikes of its day and still with nothing newer taking its place, including the so-called 450L. I’m pretty sure that motor-wise, it was a better ride than the slightly heavier WR250R I used last year.
The other day I put out a daring Twitter: ”Like’ if you want to see a modern XR400 such as a CRF450L’. I got the most responses to anything I’ve ever posted. Let’s hope that bike might come one of these years, while not weighing a ton. (It did, but it wasnt).