Published in: Rides
Traveling solo by motorcycle for several months is without a doubt a journey for which one must be prepared to confront challenges and overcome unforeseen hardships.
One of the greatest trials of my 2010 journey took place in Patagonia during the depths of winter. My KTM and I endured temperatures as low as -15°C, which obliged me to acquire high mountain clothing in order to deal with this horrendous cold, made even more intense by the fact I was traveling by motorcycle, which easily doubled the wind-chill factor.
Bundled up with six layers of thermal clothing so limited my body’s movement that I felt like a robot. Under my already thick motorcycle jacket was a thermal undershirt, a polar stretch jacket, a Polar 200 jacket, a down jacket, and a windbreaker. And, my lower extremities were covered with a similar assemblage, including two pairs of very thick socks.
I also bought ski gloves and, thank goodness, I’d already equipped the motorcycle prior to the journey with large wind deflectors on the handlebars as well as handgrip warmers. Even so, I felt cold, but at least no longer felt the sensation of freezing experienced during the days prior to arriving in San Martin de los Andes, where there was no city in which I could have obtained technical equipment for these conditions.
After traveling along the southern highway in Chilean Patagonia, I reentered Argentine Patagonia in order to continue southward. I’ve ridden snow and ice on several occasions, which made me believe that I had the hang of it, and so was no longer afraid of conditions like these. However, when I got to the town of Bajo Caracoles, everything changed.
The temperatures had stayed below zero for weeks, and a layer of ice several meters deep had penetrated the dirt road. Scarcely five kilometers from my point of departure, I went into a skid and was dragged along the ice for the first time on the journey. Luckily, the fall happened at a speed of only 20 kph, and aside from a good bump, I suffered no Injuries.
At this moment, I had no crampons for my motorcycle boots, so my main worry was how I was going to be able to lift the bike from a surface that was more suited for ice skating and all but impossible to stand up on. In any case, I had no alternative other than to try, or risk not being able to get out of there since winter traffic on this stretch of Route 40 south was virtually non-existent.
So, I unloaded all of the baggage in order to reduce the weight and attempted unsuccessfully to stand the bike up. Worn out and frustrated, I sat down to think. It occurred to me that if I dragged the bike along the ice to a patch where there would be a little accumulated snow, perhaps I could manage to get the wheels anchored, which would enable lifting the bike. I tried, and with a lot of skillful maneuvering, a bit of luck, and an hour and a half, I finally managed to upright it.
After reloading the bike, I continued on my way. However, the conditions remained impossible. The bike was skidding constantly, and an extremely strong wind sent me from one side of the road to the other.
When I got to a downward slope of ice and, in order to avoid increasing my speed, I braked, the bike immediately spun around like a top, and I was once again on the ground.
Because of the slope, I knew that it would be much more difficult than for the first fall. By now, it was three o’clock in the afternoon and I had traveled only 50 kilometers in six hours. The slippery and windy conditions would not allow me to go more than 12 kilometers per hour. And, I had yet to advance 250 kilometers in order to make it to the next town.
To add to my concerns, the daylight was only going to last a couple more hours. With neither tent nor sleeping bag to deal with the -20°C below zero temps, the only thing to do was to go back the way I had come.
From the fundamental instinct to survive, I drew the strength and courage necessary to hoist the bike upright. And, after three more energy-zapping attempts, finally succeeded. My attention now shifted to the problem of backtracking. After another hour, I managed to reach the top of the slippery hill.
Since it had taken close to six hours to travel these 50 kilometers, and with barely any daylight remaining, I knew that if I didn’t get back to the village soon, I would be in big trouble.
Just then, the wind began to blow hard, lifting the snow that had accumulated, making it impossible to see. Everything went white, and the snow stuck to my visor, reducing vision to almost zero. I tried to clean it with my gloves, but the ice seemed fused to the Lucite. With the visor open so that I could see, the wind drove the needle-like ice and snow into my unprotected face and eyes.
Daylight was all but gone and the panorama dark. In Patagonia, where winds often surpass 100 kph, the mesmerizing conditions were beginning to affect my equilibrium.
Two hours later, darkness fell, and I’d only made it a mere 25 kilometers. But, just as I was losing all hope, I saw a shed and some tractors off to the side of the road. I couldn’t believe it! Hope that there might be others around!
It turned out to be the camp of a road construction company. Inside were the tractor drivers and mechanics, who were just as surprised to see me as I was them. They couldn’t understand what I was doing there on a motorcycle. But, due to the conditions outside, their supervisor agreed to let me me stay the night.
That night I was the center of attention. We shared travel stories and photographs that generated a great deal of curiosity and admiration from one and all. This camp, that seemed to have miraculously appeared out of nowhere, gave me refuge at the end of the most difficult and dangerous day of the entire journey.
Once more, South American solidarity had smiled upon me.
Published in: Gear
Since I’m vertically challenged, I struggled with the seat height on my 2016 Africa Twin for the last few years. I finally decided to see if the Sargent Low Seat would help my comfort on the bike when stopping and riding offroad. In a market segment with so much competition, Sargent is an innovator in the motorcycle seat industry, with a history in upholstery dating back to 1935.
The seat’s build quality and craftsmanship were evident as soon as I took it out of the box. Sargent’sCarbonFX (CFX) covering is made of a UV-stabilized, marine-grade vinyl that is both durable and stylish. I opted for the black trim and welt, but Sargent offers other color welts for personal customization. Under the CFX covering you will find Sargent’s proprietary Super Cell Atomic Foam, which doesn’t retain heat and is lighter than gel. The patented Zone Suspension with Body Contour Technology design is custom to each motorcycle’s specific shape to ensure optimal pressure distribution and support.
Installation was a breeze; the seat is a direct replacement for stock. Even though it’s a low seat, it’s still two-positioned (but the high position is the same height as the low position of the stock seat). I opted for the low setting because I was looking for as much drop possible. Sargent includes a handlebar mount for the Heat Boss Heat Controller, but I mounted it just under the seat on the left side of the bike to avoid cluttering the handlebars. You can wire up the controller directly to the battery or use the included connector to plug the seat into a battery tender connection. Sargent even includes a handy LED flashlight that clips into the seat pan as part of the kit.
When I swung a leg over, I immediately noticed the lower seat height. The stock seat’s low position measures 33.5-inches. The low position on this Sargent seat comes in at 32.5-inches. The seat is narrow in the front and nice and wide at the rear. The scooped design of the pan provides improved distribution of weight across the butt, which increases long-haul comfort. The material on the front sides of the seat is grippy for your legs, providing great control when standing offroad.
I recently spent three days on the bike riding 6–8 hours each day. The seat is a drastic improvement over stock and I didn’t find myself shifting around as much trying to stay comfortable. When I left the temp was 30°F, so I turned the dial up on the Heat Boss Heat Controller as high as it would go. About 20 minutes into the trip I had to turn it down as the seat was too hot! The adjustability of the heat controller was great as I was able to dial in the perfect temperature for comfort as the outside temps changed throughout the day.
Want to know about a solution for your own bike? Check out Sargent’s website for the availability of standard and low version options as well as customization options.
MSRP: $649.95 for single heated seat for the Africa Twin
Published in: News
It is no secret that KTM has been working on the all-new 390 Adventure for a while now. It has been spied on a consistent basis during the many phases of testing, generating a lot of buzz about what KTM is bringing to its entry-level adventure bike offering.
But there isn’t quite anything like the brand itself teasing a production-ready version of the bike. That’s exactly what the Austrian bikemaker did when it revealed a camouflaged version of the upcoming 390 Adventure R at the 2024 KTM Adventure Rally in South Dakota. KTM then released three versions of the 390 in November 2024 – the 390 Adventure R, SMC R and Enduro R.
Starting with the most important bit, the bike will come with the latest LC4c motor - the same unit that comes on the new 390 Duke. In case you didn’t know, "LC" in its name stands for liquid-cooled - same as earlier KTM engines, while the "4" indicates the number of valves. The extra lowercase "c," signifies "compact."
The new motor will get more displacement of 399cc, up from 373cc. This is thanks to an expanded stroke from 60 to 64 mm, but the bore remains at 89 mm. In addition to the increased displacement, the performance figures get an upgrade as well. This new LC4c mill produces 44 horsepower instead of 43, and its torque increases from 26 to 29 lb-ft on the latest 2024 390 Duke. You should expect the same numbers on the Adventure R, although the gear ratios will likely be tinkered with to suit the Adventure R's off-road character.
Even though the 390 Adventure R was disguised head to toe, there are plenty of details that are clearly visible on the camouflaged version, and compared to the existing 390 ADV, it is clearly far more functional and off-road ready.
If these leaked images are to be believed, the 2025 KTM 390 Adventure will come in two versions, the off-road-biased R and the road-biased X. The 390 Adventure R is set to feature knobby tires on both the front and rear spoke wheels, measuring 21/18 inches, which will assist with off-roading. This same setup was seen on the camouflaged bike that was teased in South Dakota where the bike appeared to have Mitas E07 50/50 tires on.
In addition to bigger wheels and off-road tires, the suspension also seems to be updated. The suspension system apparently has 9 inches (230 mm) of wheel travel and will have the ability to be adjusted for compression and rebound at both ends. The seat height is listed at a rather tall 34.8 inches (885 mm). This is likely die to a number of factors - large wheels, long travel suspension, and (what looks to be) plenty of ground clearance.
The less expensive 390 Adventure X ought to be identical to the R in terms of chassis and bodywork, but it will feature alloy wheels will be sized at 19/17 inches in front and back. The X's suspension will have 7.9 inches (200 mm) of wheel travel and be non-adjustable. At 32.4 inches (825 mm), its seat height will be considerably more accessible for shorter riders.
With all that we know about the KTM 390 Adventure R so far, it will be equipped with sophisticated instruments and tech, as well as a 5-inch TFT screen and a suite of smartphone networking features. As we had seen in some earlier leaks, the instrument panel is oriented horizontally rather than vertically.
It also looks like it will get the much-coveted cruise control. In doing so, the entry-level KTM ADV will become the first motorcycle in its class to have the feature. To accomplish this, KTM has included a special set of switches with plus and minus buttons on the left-hand cube, most likely allowing for acceleration and deceleration when the cruise control is turned on.
The style of the 390 Adventure R has been revised throughout, with stacked headlights that feature KTM's new family face encircled by a distinct, coffin-shaped arrangement of LED running lights. This design can already be seen in the new 1390 Super Duke R Evo and the 2024 990 Duke.
With a tall, upright windshield that resembles the Dakar rally-raid style that is becoming more and more popular in the class, the lights are mounted into a more traditional front fairing than the 390 Duke’s. There’s also an aluminum crankcase protector, handguards, adjustable handlebars, and a Dakarian-style front beak.
The KTM 390 Adventure has coexisted in a crowded segment that has several capable offerings from vastly different manufacturers. It’s interesting to note that the most capable bikes in the sub-450cc ADV classall come from Asian manufacturers. That fact becomes even more interesting when you realize that all iterations of the KTM 390 Adventure will be produced by an Indian bikemaker Bajaj.
Nevertheless, when you look at these motorcycles in their own right, you do see plenty of differences. Starting with the motors, all three competitors - the Himmy, Ibex, and Kove Rally are 450cc offerings, with the KTM the only one that will most likely be a 399cc model. But displacement only means so much in the world of adventure bikes. The power figures produced by all the ADVs differ by the following numbers:
The 390 Adventure R seems to produce enough power, but its torque figures are the lowest in the class. However, considering how weight-conscious KTM has been for the 390 series, we believe the spec will be no different - meaning it will hugely benefit from its light weight to make up for the lack in its torque figures.
Moving to the hardware and features, all bikes in this class come with comparable specs - adjustable suspension, adjustable seat height, switchable ABS, premium brakes, and the works. KTM will match, if not surpass its competitors with the 390 Adventure R. Expect components from the likes of Ohlins and Brembo to be on offer too, as has been the case for past 390 models.
Of all the bikes, the Kove 450 Rally was so far the outright pick for an off-road biased ownership. It is built on solid Dakar learnings and comes with the highest ground clearance, not to forget, it appears to be the most off-road capable in stock form. The KTM 390 Adventure R might just change that. It may make good on both these factors as well as being lighter and far more affordable than the $9,499 Kove.
That brings us to the most important point - pricing. Starting with the Himalayan, it is the most affordable of the lot, coming in at $5,799. The Ibex is next, starting at $6,499 while the Kove is the most expensive, retailing at $9,499. We expect KTM to price the standard 390 Adventure somewhere between the Himmy and the Ibex - around the $ 6,000 mark. The ‘R’ spec ought to be priced higher though, around the $7,000 mark. But that would still make it way for affordable than the Kove.
KTM 390 Adventure R’s impact on the sub-450cc segment isn’t just down to its price - it has to do more with KTM’s approach for its entry-level ADV. For a mainstream manufacturer to go the extra mile and offer different variants of a model in this class is admirable.
There are likely to be as many as 4 different 390 trims on the way. This includes the aforementioned 390 Adventure R and 390 Adventure X in addition to an even more off-road-focused 390 Enduro R and 390 SMC.
Generally speaking, an enduro bike is a stripped-down ADV. It does away with all the bodywork in order to reduce weight and improve off-road performance. It will likely come with a modified sub-frame, and have a flat motocross seat, extended travel suspension, larger 21/18-inch front and rear spoke wheels, and a new bodywork.
As for the SMC, It will be a supermoto - with a motocross-style body featuring 17-inch wheels with road-biased tires, a long travel suspension, and a tall seat height. We can infer from the leaked images that the 390 SMC will have a bench-type flat seat, shorter suspension travel, and the same bodywork as the 390 Enduro R.
Coming to the bike in focus, the 390 Adventure R is a speced-out, out-and-out off-roader that doesn't shy away from being what it really is - an adventure bike. It looks rugged, gets all essential bits, doesn’t look like it weighs a ton, and most importantly, gets able hardware. What does that mean for others? Will other manufacturers follow suit? Perhaps a KLX450 Rally, or XT 450, or maybe even a DRZ450 Rally? Also, Kawasaki teased a new KLE (possibly 500cc) at EICMA which we hope to see Stateside in 2025.
It's about time major manufacturers wake up and take notice of this segment that is growing in size and demand each year. It’s not new either. People have been asking for more mid-sized rally-styled consumer level adventure bikes for almost a decade. The likes of Honda, Yamaha, and Suzuki, all have incredible offerings when it comes to bigger ADVs, but their absence in the 400-450cc segment is damning. Currently, only Honda has a comparable offering in this class in the form of the CRF450RL dual-sport. Suzuki has also just announced a long overdue new DR-Z 4S.
So, while the KTM 390 Adventure R might be a hot upcoming release in the motorcycle world right now, it is more than that in essence. It is a ray of hope that the 400-450cc adventure segment finally explodes with more capable and affordable options from European brands. If not, the likes of Asian manufacturers will have plenty of pie to share among themselves.
Then the question is if KTM’s recent restructuring to avoid bankruptcy will impact delivery and support of new models. One thing is for sure, it’s an exciting time in the global motorcycle industry for adventure dual-sport riders. Let’s keep it coming!
For more info on these capable ADVs, visit the Royal Enfield site, CFMoto site, Kove site, and KTM’s site.
Published in: Rides
In seven weeks I’ve done 7,000 miles, most of them alone, not very impressive statistics for a truck driver. But I’m not a trucker anymore; I’m just a solo overland motorcyclist. All I’ve taken from my trucking days is an inherent sense of direction and a general contentment when being in my own company. I still have a dodgy load behind me, but it’s my baggage and I’m sure I need it all.
My own company is becoming a rare thing in Kazakhstan. Every car that passes (and there are many that pass my heavily laden KLR 650) have smiling faces, waving hands and phones pointing at me. This friendliness, intrigue and the open willingness to convey a sense of humanity consistently turns into hospitality whenever I stop and take off my helmet.
It begun at a parched and arid border crossing, with an enterprising kid selling bottles of frozen water, for a perfectly reasonable price. Not that I’m in any position to haggle—I’ve paid more for things I’ve wanted less.
So, wet and sweaty all over but for a numb horizontal strip across my chest where the frozen water was stuffed inside my jacket, my introduction to Kazakhstan begins. I am instantly in a hostile desert, but hostility is limited only to the terrain.
The people are unassuming and have a generosity that raises my western warning levels of suspicion to avoid undesirable situations. It would appear that my self-preservation instinct is not needed in Kazakhstan—although that realization still doesn’t make it easy to relax it.
With evidence of an increasing sense of security, I assess every situation for its falseness. There is none, the people here are as genuine as my momentary paranoia which slowly lapses into acceptance.
My first meal is in an open air bar, I was approached by a very drunk young man who insists he wasn’t mafia… well, I never suggested he was. He can get me anything I want, he has connections, thank you but I have Wi-Fi in my room and with that connection I too can get anything I want. He excuses himself, “I’m sorry I’ve been drinking for three days.”
“Really? I’ve been drinking since 1979, you’ll get used to it.”
I’m given a local phone and numbers to call, “in case of emergency,” by a man in a cafe whose concern for me I’m beginning to think is unnecessary. Three weeks into the country and that phone has vibrated invitations in Pigeon English texts and occasional checks on my wellbeing. I entered this country a stranger, no knowledge, no language skills and no connections; the reception I have received is not limited to this gifted phone.
I’m heading to Almaty, anywhere with warmth and views of snowy mountains is my idea of perfection. But two things that are bothering me: going south when I’m supposed to be heading east, and staying with people who do not speak English. However, the journey, any journey is all about new sights and experiences, so that is what I am going to do.
It would be easier not to but I know that staying with any native family, wherever I am, is a privileged insight into their everyday lives. A day in someone’s home is far more enlightening that a week in a hotel with a conducted tour every day.
Sometimes it’s awkward, occasionally embarrassing, often confusing and always exhausting from being on best behaviour… but despite these difficulties, I feel the pang of loss as I say goodbye five days later—it’s like leaving home all over again. I was fed and trusted, treated not as a guest but as one of the family. The only thing I did to offend was to offer to pay my way.
I’m going to meet three Europeans—a Swiss and a couple of Austrians, whose common language is German; connections from the virtual overland community. We will ride north from Almaty together and see how it goes.
I’m the new kid on the bike in this situation. The scruff, the second-hand rider. $3,000 and three months on eBay resulted in my bike, the panniers and everything in them. I own it, it doesn’t own me. Of course I wanted to adorn it in shiny accessories—that’s what you do when you love something, be it a house, a garden or a woman—you buy them shit to make them look even better. We can’t help but display our western wealth in poorer countries… but we canplay it down.
Poverty breeds ingenuity, poorer countries have improvisation and mine is recognized and appreciated. A well-placed hose clip through my front fender makes an ideal fastener for a chain oil bottle, it’s practical, functional, it’s good weight distribution, it’s a little bit phallic… but mainly it’s a conversation piece and interaction is a very significant part of the trip.
So, here I am the token Brit, I sit at the back of the group and try to take in this visual overload, six spare tyres, six aluminium panniers, three German bikes and three very different people riding them to one destination. I no longer have full control over my journey. Group meetings are needed, diplomatic solutions have to be reached and… compromises—my cynical definition of which is “now nobody gets what they want.”
When choosing riding companions, destination should not be the only criteria—budget, riding style, language, objectives, and definitely time schedule are also important factors worth consideration.
German becomes more frequently spoken and I decide this is just fine; my introspective thoughts will not be distracted by mindless chatter… that’s my initial view as I take in this new formation.
A restaurant is full of food but we end up with tea, and four people fumble with strange coins to pay the bill. I think a travel pot is in order. If I offer to be the keeper I’m requesting trust with their money, if I don’t I’m delegating without authority, I think it… but double-thinking it over, I say nothing.
I wonder if I’m meant to wander this planet alone if I’m to find lasting happiness. Company is great but has limited appeal. It sometimes leaves me wondering, sometimes wanting, but consistently reassures me the only company that I continually go back to is singularly my own. I think I’m happiest searching for happiness.
But I’ll willingly share the photos.
I’m finding it very difficult to focus my thoughts. Usually they just wander through my helmet. Recollections, briefly re-lived, re-enjoyed, and then upon the tiniest distraction, a smell, a sound, or an external rhythm that plays a lyric in my head, will change the thought to a different continent, a different time, or a different feeling.
There are people who travel to heal a broken heart; dumped or divorced they tour the earth taking with them the misery they were trying to leave behind. They tell their stories of dejection and unfairness to anyone who will listen, hoping that someone will magically cure their sadness and divert their constant stream of lonely longing thoughts. Then, there are the people who have left their loved ones behind and miss them like a lost limb.
Be it a lover or a complete family unit, the highlight of their trips will be the reuniting at the end of it. They wish to share every exciting moment with the ones they left behind, and all the dull time in-between would be so much better for them were they in the company of the ones they hold most dear.
I’ve done both those kinds of traveling and they are both shit. I’m not missing anyone; I’m looking forward and enjoying the moment. Well I was… but plans have changed without my knowledge, the common language is isolating me and I’ve gone from riding in ignorant bliss to riding with resentment, the insecurities start to rise. Am I even wanted here? Before I was modestly riding at the back, my self-imposed ranking, now I feel like I’m tagging along.
This is the worst of both worlds, in a group you are less approachable by others, you miss the opportunity to interact with the locals…. But hey, it’s okay, I’m traveling with company, my interaction happens whenever neutral is selected but not in this situation, all neutral does is isolate me further—I am as excluded from group discussions as I am denied opportunities to indulge in my own unplanned schedule.
Lone journeys are full of hellos and goodbyes. Some people you meet are good for an evening meal and a drink and others become travel companions for many miles. People are generally at their best when they travel.
I don’t think these friendships that are born on the road are shallow at all, they may be transitory but are no less sincere for that. Two like-minded strangers, whose paths cross, meeting each other’s needs and heading on their way.
It’s spontaneous; it may be some divine intervention beyond our comprehension, paths cross… albeit briefly. You tell your best stories and in return receive inspired wisdom and quotes to enhance your own life. It’s genuine, it’s passionate, it’s real and then it’s over.
But occasionally, just like albums, motorcycles and favourite places, one comes along that you know you’ll keep going back to.
I suppose I’m not that easy to ride with, my own worst enemy. I ride alone a lot, whether it’s a summer evening fling around familiar country lanes or a cross-country excursion. And, when I’m not alone I love to indulge in the fantasy of the gang—from childhood dreams inspired by photos in motorcycle magazines, an endless procession of motorcycles ahead of me, framed by fingerless gloves grabbing ape hangers. I want to live inside a Dave Mann centrefold.
My childhood bedroom’s biker poster displayed the arrangement, but not the structure, the camaraderie it implied was my assumption. Individually my companions were good people, but together, in this case, there was bad chemistry.
Well, I’ve always shied away from anything that looked like commitment. The destination for me was reached, with a little more knowledge, experience and understanding, not just of Kazakhstan and its people but of riding in a group, and that it really isn’t for me.
“Freedom” is a word that is over-used and a feeling that is under-experienced. Alone on my bike on an empty road in a barren land I feel it, it’s the knowledge I, and only I, am responsible for my actions—to make the right choices, and if not making the best decisions, then making the best of the decisions I made. The outcome, the blame, the reward, I’m free to accept them all.
Published in: Bikes
You and I didn’t start with a full-on race bike when we climbed onto our first motorcycles. The play bike segment has its place in the riding community that has launched many riding careers. This segment has been growing over the last 10 years, and manufacturers have been improving their models ever so slightly along the way. Kawasaki successfully debuted the KLX 230 in 2019, offering dirt-only and dual-sport versions. And, for 2025, the model received its first significant updates since its introduction.
Kawasaki went to town on the engine for 2025, doing a hefty revision, all focused on a smooth, easy-to-ride powerplant. The fuel-injected electric-start 233cc air-cooled four-stroke now offers a single-axis primary balancer that reduces vibrations across the RPM range. A reworked head with a narrower intake port and smaller intake valve allows ease of use in the low-mid range. And finally, Kawasaki redesigned the airbox to work with the redesigned sub-frame. With all the changes to the engine, a re-programmed ECU is optimized to match the increase in low-mid torque range that puts the power down through a six-speed transmission.
All the improvements in the engine department make this bike easy to ride and maintain that we rode it without hiccups or issues.
Returning is Kawasaki’s steel perimeter frame. But Kawasaki again went to town redesigning the rear sub-frame, making it more compact while achieving a lower seat height (35.6-in. on the R and 34.4-in. on the RS) without taking away seat foam or suspension travel. A shorter wheelbase (54.1-in. on the R and 53.3-in. on the RS) and steeper rake allow for a responsive and quick-handling chassis. The resulting change in handling dynamics on the RS was noticeable while carving the tighter trails.
The suspension comes from SHOWA using long-travel 37mm telescopic front forks, allowing plenty of travel (9.8-sin. on the R and 8.6-in. on the RS) while soaking up the terrain and jumps. Even at 200 lb., I had to push the bike hard to bottom out the front forks, especially on the R model. The new Uni-Track rear suspension uses a SHOWA shock with preload adjustability only, with new springs and damping settings giving you (9.8-in. on the and 8.5-in. on the RS). Overall, the suspension was impressive for a bike at this price point.
As a woods rider, I was happy that Kawasaki went with a 21-in. front and 18-in. rear combo with bead locks, allowing the rider to run lower tire pressures. This combination offers endless tire choices for the consumer. Keeping with the KX looks, Kawasaki went with black aluminum wheels and silver spokes, giving it the full-size KX look.
The braking department has a 240mm petal front disc with a Nissin two-piston caliper. Out back is a 220mm petal disk with a single-piston Nissin caliper. Braking was adequate and predictable for the varying terrain we traversed.
With all the new updates, Kawasaki wanted to make the bike look like the race KX line, and boy, did they hit it out of the park with the styling! The all-new bodywork is designed with the rider’s safety in mind. The panels have an almost seamless fit, which allows the rider to move around without worrying about catching a boot or clothing on the plastic. We saw this with the MX bikes years ago and are happy to see it trickle down to the trail bike segment. Two colors are available: KX Green and Battleship Gray.
Kawasaki even widened the seat for the comfort department and added 6mm of foam, all while keeping the seat lower than the previous model, thanks to the redesigned subframe. Footpegs have been repositioned 9mm rearward, and the handlebars 25mm farther forward and 13mm higher, allowing more room to move around the bike.
Since Kawasaki likes to let the “Good Times Roll,” they increased the capacity of the all-new keyed steel gas tank to two gallons, which is up from the previous 1.7-gallon plastic tank. Rounding out the cockpit, Kawasaki added a keyed ignition and low-fuel light to the handlebar area.
I had a blast testing out the new KLX 230R/RS, getting to blast around Hollister Hills SVRA off-road park for a day, and putting the updated KLX through the paces. This was the most fun day of riding I’ve had in a long time, and the KLX 230R made that possible. If you are in the market for a new trail bike, the new KLX 230R/RS is worth a look.
MSRP: $4,999
Engine: 4-stroke single-cylinder, SOHC air-cooled
Displacement: 233cc
Bore and Stroke: 67.0 x 66.0
Compression: 9.4:1
Fuel System: DFI with 32mm Keihen throttle body
Ignition: TCBI with electronic advance
Transmission: 6-speed
Front Suspension: 37mm telescopic fork (9.8-in. R and 8.6-in. RS)
Rear Suspension: Uni-Trak linkage system with adjustable preload with (9.8” R and 8.5” RS)
Front Tire: 80/100-21
Rear Tire: 100/100-18
Front Brakes: 240mm disc with dual-piston caliper
Rear Brake: 220mm disc with single-piston caliper
Ground Clearance: 11.4-in. R and 10.6-in. RS