This is a blog I wrote for CSC Motorcycles a little more than 4 years ago (time sure flies when you’re having fun). The topic was as timely then as it is today. I like big bikes, but I like small bikes more, and I’m convinced that a small bike makes way more sense than a big bike for real world adventure touring. I thought I would post the blog again, as we are having way too much fun with CSC, BMW, Janus, and other companies who have seen the light. Here’s the blog from back in September 2014…
A 250cc bike seems too small to many riders. Is it?
The motorcycle craze in the US really started in the mid-1960s. I know motorcycling goes back way before that, but motorcycling was essentially a fringe endeavor until Honda came on the scene. We met the nicest people on Hondas, if you remember, and that ad tagline was a winner (so is “Don’t Miss The Boat,” by the way). (Note: “Don’t Miss The Boat” was CSC’s tagline for the US RX3 introduction, and those who didn’t miss the boat participated in one of the best deals in the history of motorcycling.)
Honda’s sales model was a good one. They pulled us in with small bikes and then convinced us we needed larger and larger bikes. Many of us started with a Honda Cub (the 50cc step-through), we progressed to the Super 90 (that was my jump in), then the 160cc baby Super Hawk, then the 305cc Super Hawk, and at that point in about 1967 that was it for Honda. They didn’t have anything bigger (yet). After the 305cc Super Hawk, the next step for most folks was either a Harley or a Triumph.
You know, back in those days, a 650cc motorcycle was a BIG motorcycle. And it was.
But Honda kept on trucking…they offered a 450 that sort of flopped, and then in 1969 they delivered the CB-750. That bike was so far out in front of everyone else it killed the British motorcycle industry and (with a lot of self-inflicted wounds) it almost killed Harley.
The Japanese manufacturers piled on. Kawasaki one-upped Honda with a 900. (Another note…it’s one of those early Kawi 900s that Gobi Gresh is restoring in the Zed’s Not Dead series.) Honda came back with a 1000cc Gold Wing (which subsequently grew to 1100cc, then 1500cc, and is now an 1800cc). Triumph has a 2300cc road bike. Harley gave up on cubic centimeters and now describes their bikes with cubic inches. And on and on it went. It seems to keep on going. The bikes keep on getting bigger. And bigger. And bigger. And taller. And heavier. And bigger. In a society where everything was being supersized (burgers, bikes, and unfortunately, our beltlines), bigger bikes have ruled the roost for a long time. Too long, in my opinion.
Weirdly, today many folks think of a 750 as a small bike. It’s a world gone nuts. But I digress…
I’ve done a lot of riding. Real riding. My bikes get used. A lot. I don’t much care for the idea of bikes as driveway jewelry, and on a lot of my rides in the US, Mexico, and Canada, I kind of realized that this “bigger is better” mentality is just flat wrong. It worked as a motorcycle marketing strategy for a while, but when you’re wrestling with a 700-lb bike in the soft stuff, you realize it doesn’t make any sense.
I’ve had some killer big bikes. A Triumph Daytona 1200. A Harley Softail. A TL1000S Suzuki. A Triumph Speed Triple (often called the Speed Cripple, which in my case sort of turned out to be true). All the while I was riding these monsters, I’d see guys on Gold Wings and other 2-liter leviathans and wonder…what are these folks thinking?
I’d always wanted a KLR-650 for a lot of reasons. The biggest reasons were the bikes were inexpensive back then and they were lighter than the armored vehicles I had been riding. I liked the idea of a bike I could travel on, take off road, and lift by myself if I dropped it. To make a long story short, I bought the KLR and I liked it. I still have it. But it’s tall, and it’s heavy (well over 500 lbs fully fueled). But it was a better deal than the bigger bikes for real world riding. Nobody buys a KLR to be a poser, nobody chromes out a KLR, and nobody buys leather fringe for a KLR, but if that’s what you want in a motorcycle, hey, more power to you.
More background…if you’ve been on this blog for more than 10 minutes you know I love riding in Baja. I talk about it all the time. My friends tell me I should be on the Baja Tourism Board. Whatever. It is some of the best riding in the world. I’ll get down there the first week I take delivery on my CSC Cyclone, and if you want to ride with me, you’re more than welcome. (Note: And I did. We did a lot of CSC Baja tours, and CSC introduced a lot of folks to riding and to Baja. That one innocent little sentence became a cornerstone of CSC’s marketing strategy.)
I was talking up Baja one day at the First Church of Bob (the BMW dealership where me and some of my buddies hang out on Saturday mornings). There I was, talking about the road to San Felipe through Tecate, when my good buddy Bob said “let’s do it.” Baja it was…the other guys were on their Harleys and uber-Beemers, and I was on my “small bore” KLR. The next weekend we pointed the bars south, wicked it up, and rode to San Felipe.
That was a fun trip. I took a lot of ribbing about the KLR, but the funny thing was I had no problem keeping up with the monster motos. In fact, most of the time, I was in the lead. And Bob? Well, he just kept studying the KLR. On Saturday night, he opened up a bit. Bob is the real deal…he rode the length of Baja before there was a road. That’s why he was enjoying this trip so much, and it’s why he was so interested in my smaller bike. In fact, he announced his intent to buy a smaller bike, which surprised everybody at the table.
Bob told us about a months-long moto trip he made to Alaska decades ago, and his dream about someday riding to Tierra del Fuego. That’s the southernmost tip of South America. He’d been to the Arctic Circle, and he wanted to be able to say that he’d been all the way south, too.
I thought all of this was incredibly interesting. Bob is usually a very quiet guy. He’s the best rider I’ve ever known, and I’ve watched him smoke Ricky Racers on the Angeles Crest Highway with what appeared to be no effort whatsoever. Sometimes he’d do it on a BMW trade-in police bike standing straight up on the pegs passing youngsters on Gixxers and Ducksters. Those kids had bikes with twice the horsepower and two-thirds the weight of Bob’s bike, and he could still out ride them. Awesome stuff. Anyway, Bob usually doesn’t talk much, but during dinner that night on the Sea of Cortez he was opening up about some of his epic rides. It was good stuff.
Finally, I asked: Bob, what bike would you use for a trip through South America?
Bob’s answer was immediate: A 250.
That surprised me, but only for an instant. I asked why and he told me, but I kind of knew the answer already. Bob’s take on why a 250: It’s light, it’s fast enough, it’s small enough that you can pick it up when it falls, you can change tires on it easily, you can take it off road, you can get across streams, and it gets good gas mileage.
Bob’s answer about a 250 really stuck in my mind. This guy knows more about motorcycles than I ever will, he is the best rider I’ve ever known, and he didn’t blink an eye before immediately answering that a 250 is the best bike for serious world travel.
It all made a lot of sense to me. I had ridden my liter-sized Triumph Tiger in Mexico, but when I took it off road the thing was terrifying. The bike weighed north of 600 lbs, it was way too tall, and I had nearly dropped it several times in soft sand. It was not fun. I remembered another ride with my friend Dave when he dropped his FJR in an ocean-sized puddle. It took three of us to get the thing upright, and we dropped it a couple of more times in our attempt to do so. John and I had taken my Harley and his Virago on some fun trips, but folks, those bikes made no sense at all for the kind of riding we did.
You might be wondering…what about the other so-called adventure bikes, like the BMW GS series, the Yamaha Tenere, or the Triumph Tiger? Good bikes, to be sure, but truth be told, they’re really street bikes dressed up like dirt bikes. Big street bikes dressed up like dirt bikes. Two things to keep in mind…seat height and weight. I can’t touch the ground when I get on a BMW GS, and as you’ve heard me say before, my days of spending $20K or $30K on a motorcycle are over. Nice bikes and super nice for freeway travel, but for around town or off road or long trips into unknown territory, these bikes are just too big, too heavy, and too tall.
There’s one other benefit to a small bike. Remember that stuff above about Honda’s 1960s marketing strategy? You know, starting on smaller bikes? Call me crazy, but when I get on bikes this size, I feel like a kid again. It’s fun.
I’ve thought about this long and hard. For my kind of riding, a 250 makes perfect sense. My invitation to you is to do the same kind of thinking.
So there you have it. That was the blog that helped to get the RX3 rolling, and CSC sold a lot of RX3 motorcycles. Back in the day, CSC was way out in front of everybody on the Internet publicizing the Zongshen 250cc ADV bikes, and other countries took notice. Colombia ordered several thousand RX3s based on what they CSC doing, other countries followed, and things just kept getting better and better. The central premise is still there, and it still makes sense. A 250 may well be the perfect motorcycle.
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It’s a go, and it’s going to be a grand adventure. In just a few days we’re headed to Baja with the good guys from Janus Motorcycles!
I’m excited about this trip. It’s four days and roughly a thousand miles, I’ll be riding with Devin and Jordan from Janus Motorcycles, and we’ll all be on 250cc Janus classic bikes. We’re hitting the best of southern California’s mountains and forests, Tecate, San Felipe, the Sea of Cortez, the Rumarosa Grade, Ensenada, the northern Baja wine country, and more. Fish tacos. Lobster burritos. Chilequiles. Birreria. Tequila (after the bikes are put away for the night, of course). It’s going to be grand, and you’ll be able to follow the adventure each day right here on the ExhaustNotes blog. We’ll be riding some of the most beautiful roads in one of the most beautiful parts on the planet, and you can bet we’ll be covered by our good buddies from BajaBound Insurance.
This will be my first ride on a Janus Motorcycle, and I’m very much looking forward to the experience. A classic lightweight British-styled motorcycle manufactured right here in the United States, powered by the iconic and bulletproof CG engine, on a run through northern Baja…this is going to be awesome!
Want to read the rest of the story? Please visit our Baja page for an index to all of the Janus Baja blog posts!
I’ve become a small bike guy. I rode big miles on 250cc motorcycles in Asia, South America, Mexico, and the US, and I’m naturally interested in any motorcycle of that approximate displacement. It’s no secret I was a consultant to CSC Motorcycles for about a decade and I was involved in the effort to bring the RX3 and the TT250 to America. There. Having said that, let’s move into the topic of this blog, and that’s BMW’s contenders in this class, their 310cc entries. They have two. One is a street-oriented bike (the R 310), and the other is more styled along the lines of the BMW’s bigger GS bikes (the G 310 GS). I examined both motorcycles and I rode the GS version. My good buddies at Brown BMW provided the bikes and answered all of my questions.
My intent here is not to do a direct comparison of the Baby Beemer to the CSC bikes, although the comparisons are inevitable. I’m not going to dwell on them, though. If you want to learn more about the CSC bikes, my advice is to go to the ExhaustNotes RX3-to-RX4 comparos, or go directly to the CSC website.
After CSC introduced the RX3 in 2015, the motorcycle world took notice. Three manufacturers subsequently entered the market with small-displacement ADV bikes. One was BMW, another was Royal Enfield, and a third was Kawasaki. The Royal Enfield is a 400cc single; I haven’t ridden it (although I understand Royal Enfield dealers give test rides; one of these days I’ll get around to riding one). The Kawasaki is a 300cc twin; I haven’t ridden it (Kawasaki dealers typically do not allow test rides). Gresh rode the Kawasaki when he was invited to the little Kawi’s intro and he did a video on it. BMW allows test rides (as does CSC), so I was able to ride the BMW. I know that Honda, Yamaha, and Suzuki all have 250 and 300cc bikes, too, but those are street-oriented bikes and they are not equipped for adventure touring. I don’t consider them competitors in this class. Basically, if you want a small ADV bike, it’s CSC, BMW, Kawasaki, or Royal Enfield.
Let’s get the heavy lifting out of the way first and tackle the gorillas in the room: Price and country of origin. Here’s the bottom line…the street-oriented BMW, the R 310, is $4950 for a 2018 model. That includes freight and setup; it does not include tax and documentation fees. The G 310 GS (the adventure version and the primary focus of this blog) is another thousand bucks at $5940 (again, that includes freight and setup, but does not include tax and doc fees). That’s with both bikes bare (no accessories).
Before continuing with the pricing discussion, let’s hit that country-of-origin thing. These bikes are built for BMW in India. Some folks might have an issue with that. I’m not one of them. I examined the bikes (the R and the GS models) and their fit and finish is top notch. I guess BMW feels that way, too, and they back it up: The 310cc bikes have the same 3-year, 36000-mile warranty as do the bigger BMW motorcycles. That’s better than CSC, Yamaha, Honda, Royal Enfield, and Kawasaki.
Okay, back to pricing and some of the details to get the bikes ADV-ready. If you want to add a tailbox to the R model, for the rack (which the R model does not include as standard equipment), it’s another $218, and for the tailbox, it’s $181. The Brown BMW parts guy told me that with the necessary hardware and taxes, the tailbox and rack come out to $457. The GS model comes with the rear rack as standard equipment, but to add the tailbox it’s that $181 figure. If you want to add panniers to the GS model, with the mounts and adaptors it’s another $709. If you want your baby Beemer GS to include a tailbox and panniers, you’re looking at adding roughly $900 to the bike. That brings the price of the GS model to $5940 plus $900, or $6840 (not including tax and doc fees). And that’s for a 2018 model. Prices are going up in 2019. I’ll get to that in a bit.
All of these numbers are for the 2018 model bikes. If you want to get a 2019 model, both bikes are going up another $750. That would put a panniers-and-topcase equipped 2019 model at just under $7600, not counting taxes and documentation fees. Refreshingly, BMW’s practice is to include freight and setup in the bike’s pricing and not leave that up to the dealers. The Big 4 let the dealers decide on their freight and setup fees, and, well, don’t get me started on that topic. Let’s just say that the way BMW does it is light years ahead of the Big 4 dealers in terms of transparency, honesty, and consistency.
Let’s hit a few of the tech features on the GS before describing the ride. The GS model has cast wheels (17-inch in the rear, and 19-inch in the front). There is no wire wheel option, which is surprising given the bike’s GS heritage. There’s an argument to be made for wire wheels instead of cast wheels for serious adventure touring. There’s also an argument to be made for cast wheels and tubeless tires. It’s a “Here’s your shovel, take your pick” discussion. BMW chose cast wheels. It wouldn’t be a deal breaker for me. I can live with either approach.
Both 310 models are chain drive, and both bikes use a single-cylinder, liquid-cooled, fuel-injected engine. The engine is sort of a vertical single (I say “sort of” because the cylinder is inclined 10 degrees to the rear). Body work obscures most of the cylinder, so it doesn’t look as unusual as it sounds. Interestingly, the intake and exhaust are reversed from what we are used to seeing. The fuel injector is in front of the engine and the exhaust pipe exits to the rear. (To go tangential for a moment, Mustang used this approach in their earlier models in the 1950s. Those bikes also had 300cc engines; the Mustang engines were originally designed to power cement mixers. Really. I can’t make this stuff up. You can read more about the early Mustangs here.) It’s interesting to see the reversed intake/exhaust approach on a modern motorcycle. You could make the argument that tilting the cylinder to the rear adds to mass centralization (cue in the Erik Buell theme song), but I don’t know if that was the logic that drove this design.
The little GS instrumentation is all digital and indicator lights. It’s a good display. I didn’t like the tachometer approach. It has a horizontal linear readout along the bottom of the dash, and I had a hard time seeing it. Having said that, I will offer a radical thought: I think a tachometer is superfluous on a motorcycle. It’s interesting to see how fast the engine is revving, but I never rely on the tach for shifting or anything else. If you need a tach to tell you when to shift, you have no mechanical empathy (a topic to be covered in a later ExNotes blog). But that’s just me, and like I said, I know its heresy in the motorcycle world. I didn’t check speedo accuracy with a GPS because the GS I rode was brand new and it did not have a cellphone mount.
I asked the Brown BMW sales manager (Tom Reece, a genuine good guy) about speedometer accuracy and he told me the speedo was optimistic, which seems to me to be the case on every motorcycle I’ve ever ridden. Curiously, though, the last four cars I’ve owned all had speedometers that were within 1 mph of the GPS reading. It seems to me the motorcycle industry would do well to steal a speedometer engineer away from one of the auto companies.
Both 310cc BMWs had a single disk in the front. It felt good to me. The bikes have ABS as standard equipment, and it’s switchable (you can turn it on or off from a left-handlebar switch). The other controls on the handlebar switchgear are conventional, including the turn signals (there’s none of the turn signal tomfoolery that you find on the larger BMW motorcycles). I did not see any outlets on the bike I rode for USB or 12V charging. Maybe they’re there and I missed them.
One potential negative is the oil filter location on both bikes. Both use a spin-on oil filter that is mounted low and on the front of the engine. Stated differently, the filter is directly in line with anything the front tire kicks up. I think that could be a liability off road, and perhaps even on road. My Triumph Tiger had a spin-on filter that was mounted underneath the engine (and mostly inside the engine, as the crankcase was recessed to protect the filter). I somehow managed to kick up a screwdriver with my front tire several years ago on the San Bernardino Freeway, the screwdriver penetrated the oil filter, and all of a sudden the rear end of my Triumph was sashaying around like an exotic dancer in a room full of big tippers (oil had sprayed all over the rear tire). The BMWs both have a skid plate of sorts, but it’s plastic and it looks kind of flimsy to me. I don’t think it’s the answer to crashing around in a field of boulders.
On to the ride: I didn’t put a lot of miles on the GS and it was all in town. The bike felt peppy, and it might beat the RX3 in a drag race (especially since the one I rode wasn’t carrying the added weight of the RX3’s engine guards, steel skidplate, topcase and bags, and windshield). On that windshield thing…neither of the BMWs has a windshield, although they both have black wind deflectors. Again, I didn’t rack up any freeway miles, but around town, wind was not an issue.
Both of the little BMWs had constant diameter (i.e., non-tapered) handlebars. I always thought that tapered handlebars were a little bit of a marketing gimmick, but I could feel a difference in vibration between the BMW I rode and other bikes with tapered handlebars. I am assuming the BMW engine is counterbalanced (and my research tells me the bike has a counterbalancer), but the vibration still gets through. Looking at my photos, I don’t see where the counterbalancer would be located (the conventi0nal location in the crankcase forward area appears to be the spot that mounts the starter motor). The vibration at higher rpm wasn’t offensive, but it was noticeable. At the end of a 300-mile day, it would probably be more noticeable.
The G 310 GS ride was comfortable. In fact, it felt good. The suspension is adjustable for preload only in the rear. There’s no preload adjustment up front, and no damping adjustment in the front or the rear. The bike comes with a tool for the rear preload adjustment. The GS has 7 inches of suspension travel at both ends. The GS’s seat height was a reasonable 33 inches, and I had no problem getting on or off the bike (nor did I have any issues when stopping).
To cut to the chase, the G 310 GS rode well and it felt secure. If I wanted a sensibly-sized (read: small) bike and if I was a BMW kind of guy, I’d have no reservations about owning this bike. And if I was going to buy a BMW, there’s no doubt in my mind it would be from Brown’s. I know and have ridden with both Bob Brown (the founder) and Dave Brown (the general manager), they are both great guys, and going any place else to buy a BMW just wouldn’t make sense.
After my ride, I had a ton of questions for the guys at Brown BMW, and I’ve included their answers in the above discussion. There were one or two other things I wanted to mention. I asked if there had been any reliability or service issues with the bike. Tom told me there had been a recall for a sidestand issue. Brown’s didn’t have any sidestand failures, but the Service Department made the sidestand mods to satisfy the recall. It happens. I’ve seen recalls for some pretty mundane issues on other makes, and it sounds like this was one of them.
The other question I asked was about the shop manual. Tom looked at me quizzically and then he told me they hadn’t sold a service manual for any of their motorcycles in years. I said at the outset of this blog that I didn’t want it to be a CSC-to-BMW comparo, but I guess this is one of the fundamental differences between the two organizations I need to mention. CSC gives its customers a free shop manual, they have online tutorials, and they encourage their customers to do their own maintenance. That’s an approach mandated by CSC’s path to market (they don’t sell through dealers). BMW, which only sells through dealers, makes it almost a requirement that customers rely on dealer service departments. It seems to be an approach that works for BMW, and the guys I ride with who have BMWs all say Brown’s service is top drawer.
I liked the 310cc BMW, and I’d have no problem getting on one and riding across China, or Mexico, or the United States, or India (now there’s a cool idea). I’d be a bit concerned about the lack of a shop manual, but that’s just me. If you’re a died-in-the-wool BMW type and you don’t want to do your own maintenance, I can see where this bike makes sense. I think that’s what BMW is relying on. Tom told me they sell the 310cc bikes to new riders and to guys who already own larger BMWs. Tom said younger guys stop by in their 3-series BMW automobiles, they see a $6K BMW motorcycle, and they think “hey, that’s not too bad.”
I think BMW views its 310cc bikes as an opportunity to introduce new riders to motorcycling (always a good thing) and ultimately, to upsell them to the larger BMW bikes. There’s nothing wrong with that, but I think BMW might be missing the boat. When I rode the G 310 GS, here’s the question I was thinking about: Would I travel big time on this bike? Say a trip down to Cabo San Lucas and back? The answer is yes. Where I think BMW might be remiss is they are not positioning the 310 as a serious long-distance adventure machine. I examined BMW’s website and I did a Google search on GS310 adventure rides, and not a lot shows up. The BMW website talks about the bike being good for around town and trail rides. I think it’s good for a lot more than that. Maybe the Bavarians are worried about cannibalizing sales of their larger bikes, but if I was BMW I’d be pushing the hell out of the 310 for real world adventure touring. The bike is the right size and I think it has the chops. Along those same lines, if I were BMW I’d be organizing 310 adventure rides to Baja, Alaska, and some of our great destinations here in the US. It’s an approach that sells motorcycles and pulls people into riding. I can tell you that from personal experience.
Zed is missing its chrome seat bar and rather than finding a stock replacement I grabbed this $50, period-correct luggage rack from eBay. All my motorcycles have rear racks. I need a place to strap stuff because I get around, you know? I dig the square tubing and the big-hair, 1980’s plastic plugs filling the open ends.
Zed’s 41,000 mile, front wheel bearings are probably stock and I could’ve cleaned them up and re-greased them but a new set is not that expensive so I popped the old ones out and fitted new bearings.
I had an old-ish Dunlop tire in stock. I bought it new to put on Godzilla for a run from Hunter’s place in Oklahoma to Florida and that’s all the miles it has done. I guess I should worry about the rubber aging. In my defense, it’s been stored in a dark trailer and the Fingernail-Probe test reveals a fresh feel to the rubber. Anyway, the Dunlop is about 20 years newer than the tire that came on Zed so I call it a win. No one will believe this but I did install a new tube in the front and managed to get the tire onto the rim without pinching the tube.
The grease inside the speedometer drive was hardened so I cleared out the muck and squished new grease into the worm drive parts. I also had to swap the disc to the opposite side of the wheel as Zed came with the caliper mounted backwards. They tell me this mod improved handling but I’ll not ride around listening to Z1 experts constantly telling me my brakes are backwards.
My latest order from Z1 Enterprises showed up. It’s like Christmas in November around here. This pile may not look like $600 bucks worth of stuff but $600 doesn’t go as far as it used too. Hell, if you take your motorcycle to a dealer for an oil change and a tune up it’ll be $600 easy. The sprockets and chain are wear items so knock those off Zed’s repair bill. The brake pads and shoes also shouldn’t count against the bike’s total cost either as those would wear out if the bike were running. I’m changing them as a prophylactic measure. I don’t want old brake linings coming unglued at 130 mph.
The most expensive part of the order was the ignition advancer @ $159. My buddy Skip sent me a couple advancers in the hope one would fit but as luck would have it there must be 537 different advancers for the Z1. The left advancer fits the crankshaft bolt (loosely) and looks close from this side but the advancer has timing marks only for cylinders 1 and 4. Also note how close the “T” (top center) and the “F” (ignition fire) marks are. The center advancer unit has all the correct cylinder markings but the bolt hole is too small for the crank bolt. This unit also has “F” and “T” close together.
On the right is the new advancer from Z1E. This one fits the crank bolt snugly. Check out how much more ignition retard there is between “F” and “T”! The new unit also has all four cylinders stamped into the metal.
Moving to the backside of the three advancers we see that the left unit has a cup that prevents the advancer from sitting flush onto Zed’s crankshaft end. The middle unit will marry to the crank ok but note the slight degree angle difference on the locator-pin hole. Finally the new unit, like the bear’s soup, is just right.
To attach the points plate I had to shorten 3 screws. The best way I’ve found to do this is to run a nut onto the screw, cut the screw, grind the screw making the grinding wheel cut towards the center of the screw (or dragging the metal away from the threads). Removing the nut will clean any swarf left in the threads. The nut should start back on the screw without problems, if not, I’ll clean the screw up some more with the grinder.
Zed’s exhaust system hangs low and as such has hit the ground frequently enough to create pinholes. When pipe gets this thin I prefer to braze the holes closed. The brazing rod requires less heat and leaves a nice, thick pad to give a dirt rider something to beat on.
Finally, when I fit the exhaust headers I tape around the frame tubes to help prevent scratches. I also tape the headers to keep the exhaust collars from falling down the pipe scarring up the new paintwork.
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Say what you want about the man in the White House, or the former man in the White House, or who gets the credit: The economy is roaring. Nowhere was that more apparent than at the Long Beach International Motorcycle Show this weekend. It was packed, and we saw a lot of companies that hadn’t been there before. Triumph, MV Augusta, and more. Things were hopping, and if the attendance and the enthusiasm extend into the marketplace (and I think it will), we’re going to see significant growth in the US motorcycle market this year.
Susie I and went on Saturday (thanks for the tickets, CSC Motorcycles), and it was shoulder-to-shoulder throughout much of the event. It was good to see. We’ll cover this event from six perspectives over several blogs: Friends, new motorcycles, custom motorcycles, vintage bikes, my favorites, and the female models that in the past always seemed to populate the big bucks exhibits (Harley, Ducati, Indian, and maybe a few others). Let’s do the easy part first, the drop dead gorgeous, young, mini-skirted female models who populated prior shows. The bottom line? I didn’t see any. Admittedly, I didn’t visit the Ducati booth (so maybe they had a few and I missed them), but in other booths where female models were usually present there were none. It’s probably a good thing, except for the models whom I’m guessing made good money in years past. Our society is growing up.
Two new bikes talked to me. One was the Royal Enfield 650 twin (a stunning machine); the other was the green Kawasaki 900cc Four with a café racer fairing. I sat on the Kawasaki. It fit me and it felt surprisingly light. Sue chased me off, I think, because she could sense the wheels turning. It’s a nice motorcycle (one I think I would like to own). Maybe it’s just Gresh’s enthusiasm in the Zed’s Not Dead Series, but I formed a bond with that Kawasaki. They say green motorcycles are bad luck, but I’d be willing to take the chance on this bike.
We saw the new Kawasaki 800cc twin, the other café racer that’s styled like a real motorcycle (i.e., the original Triumph Bonneville). The colors ain’t great in the photos (Gresh commented on that in his Wild Conjecture piece), but in the flesh the colors work (they look way better than they do in the pictures). Instead of looking disjointed, the color mismatch makes for what appears to be a custom bike. Thankfully, the industry-wide craze for flat black bikes seems to be subsiding. This bike looked good.
The Kawi US guy told me the KLR 650 was not available this year and Kawi’s position is that this is a “skip” year, which he thinks might mean they are coming out with a new model for 2019, or maybe 2020. He said no one outside of Japan knows for sure. The Kawi dude said if the KLR does come back it most definitely will not be $6799 (the KLR’s price last year). He thought the price for a new version (if it comes to fruition) will be substantially higher. Their 300cc Versys looked good, but at $5799 it was pricey for a 300 (and that’s before what I’m guessing will be over a grand in dealer setup and freight).
The show was hopping. The economy is back, and the motorcycle business is along for the ride. Stay tuned, folks…there’s more Long Beach IMS coming on the ExhaustNotes blog.
As you know, we published a series of blogs comparing the RX3 and RX4 motorcycles. Those have been widely read and we’ve received many comments from you, our readers. Thanks for that, folks.
My good buddy Chris offered a brilliant suggestion a week or so ago: We ought to compare the RX4 to the Kawasaki KLR 650, he said. That’s an idea that’s so good I’m embarrassed I didn’t think of it. Chris pointed out that I had owned a KLR 650, I rode it extensively both on and offroad in Baja and here in the US, and I was in a position to make the comparison. That makes sense. It also makes sense because since the RX3’s introduction, a constant refrain from the China-bashers was that you could buy a used KLR for what a new RX3 cost. That’s not true; used KLRs generally cost less than a new RX3, but that’s neither here nor there. It might become more relevant now that the KLR has been discontinued, because it won’t be long before the only kind of KLR you can buy will be a used one.
First, a bit of background. I bought a new KLR in 2006 and I rode it for roughly 10 years before selling it with 15,000 miles on the clock. That may not seem like a lot of miles for 10 years, but there were times during that period when I owned as many as six motorcycles, somewhere in there I took a year off to recuperate from a bad motorcycle accident, and after 2009 I was spending most of my seat time on other bikes as a consequence of my CSC association. But before that, a lot of my KLR time was in Baja and a good chunk of that was spent in the soft stuff.
Another bit a trivia you should know: I’m a big fan of the KLR 650. Kawasaki didn’t keep that bike in production for 30+ years because it was a turkey. The KLR 650 was (and still is) a great motorcycle. It makes way more sense for serious adventure riding than do any of the liter-plus/full-figured/stratospheric-seat-height litter of current offerings from Japan, Germany, Austria, and Italy. I say that with great confidence because when I was writing the CSC blog, I watched CSC sell boatloads of RX3 motorcycles (literally, boatloads) to guys who owned monster ADV bikes but were afraid to ride them off road. Big bikes off road just don’t make a lot of sense. Not to me, anyway.
Like I said above, my KLR was a 2006 model, which made it a First Gen KLR. There were basically two KLR iterations: Ones that burned a lot of oil, and ones that did not. Well, okay, I’m being a little sarcastic. The First Gen KLRs went from the mid-‘80s to 2007, and they ran well. In 2008, the great green Good Times Folks introduced a restyled KLR with a slightly-tweaked engine (those were the Gen II bikes, for which production concluded this year). A serious oil consumption problem ensued with the 2008 Gen II engine tweaks, which was subsequently corrected by Kawasaki. There were other minor differences: Reduced fork travel, a new dash, and the aforementioned-styling changes. And, the Big K claimed a fix for the doohickey issue (more on that in a bit). Other than that, the Gen I and Gen II KLRs are essentially the same motorcycle.
Don’t take my snarkiness as a dart aimed at the KLR. Like I said above, it was (and still is) a great motorcycle. I loved mine. And like I also said above, the KLR didn’t have a three-decade production run because it was a bad motorcycle. They are, in fact, great motorcycles. The question here is not whether or not the KLR is a good bike (it is); rather, the question is: How does the RX4 compare to the KLR? We’re getting there, folks, but let me go tangential a bit first.
So why did Kawasaki discontinue the KLR? Gresh and I wrote a couple of blogs about that and what might follow the KLR (see here and here). In my opinion, Kawasaki’s decision was most likely based on sales and profitability. Manufacturers don’t discontinue products when they are selling well and making money. Some of the self-appointed keyboard commandos filled the forums with opinions, one of which was that Kawasaki killed the KLR because it was carbureted. That’s pure Bandini, folks. CSC Motorcycles, Janus Motorcycles, and others get carbed bikes approved by EPA and CARB on a regular basis. Carbs are fine as long as the bike meets Uncle Sam’s and the Peoples Republik’s emissions requirements.
Okay, I guess that’s enough background. Let’s get to the main attraction of this piece, which is how the KLR and the RX4 compare.
As good as place to start as any is speed and acceleration. The KLR 650 and the 450cc RX4 have essentially the same top speed, which is approximately 100 mph. Handling at top speed is another topic, and I’ll get to that in a second. From an acceleration perspective (and this is all from Berk-butt-based impressions not involving the use of a stopwatch), the KLR has a bit more grunt on the bottom end, and the RX4 pulls a little stronger near the top end. The KLR, to me, felt more torquey at low rpm (and I liked that). When you consider the two bikes’ horsepower and torque specs (assuming what the manufacturers are telling us is accurate), the reason becomes apparent. The 450cc RX4 has 40.2 horsepower and 27.3 ft-lb torque, the 650cc KLR has 36 horsepower and 33.4 ft-lb torque. More torque means more bottom end (the KLR has more torque and a stronger bottom end pull), more horsepower means more of a top end rush (the RX4 has more horsepower and feels substantially stronger than the KLR above 70 mph; much of that is also due to the RX4’s better high-speed handling).
Okay, let’s talk about, and that bring us to the doohickey business. The doohickey is the KLR 650’s spring-loaded counterbalancer drive chain tensioner (a mouthful, I know). The Gen I KLR part was a cheap stamped weldment, and it had a tendency to fail (taking the engine with it). Kawasaki never admitted it was a problem, but they improved the part for the Gen II KLR engine. Folks who were serious about their KLRs replaced the stock doohickey with a much better machined part from Eagle Mike (a great guy who is a legend in the KLR community). I replaced the doohickey at the 500-mile service on my KLR (which I did myself).
It bothered me that Kawasaki became the Good Times Ostrich on this doohickey business. I have no doubt it was a genuine weakness. There are no known comparable weaknesses on either the RX3 or the RX4 (although admittedly, the RX4 doesn’t have the miles yet to really know). What I do know is that where there were issues in the first shipment of RX3 motorcycles, CSC stepped up immediately (and publicly). I was one of the guys who communicated with CSC customers, and if you don’t believe that, read the CSC blog and buy a copy of 5000 Miles At 8000 RPM. Kawasaki ignored the doohickey issue the entire time it existed. In my book, that gives a clear advantage to CSC and Zongshen. Yeah, I’m biased toward CSC. I admit that. But facts are facts.
Back to the motorcycles…another difference is the transmission. The RX4 has a six-speed gearbox; the KLR has a five-speed. That’s perceived as a big deal, I guess, by most folks. The reality is that five gears were enough for me, but I suppose six are nicer. Back in the day I rode a lot of motorcycles with four-speed transmissions and I never felt like I was missing anything. But it’s a difference, and on this count, the nod goes to the RX4. Also, the RX4 has a gear indicator on the dash; the KLR does not. Is that a real issue? Not for me. Maybe I’m conceited, but I kind 0f know what gear I’m in all the time. But again, it’s something the RX4 has that the KLR does not. Where there is a transmission issue that’s worth noting is first gear. On the KLR it is a granny gear; it’s way lower than second. All of the gears on the RX4 (including first) are closely spaced. I would have liked the KLR better if its gears were similarly closely spaced. On the KLR, when you drop the bike into first, it’s really throwing out the anchor. On the RX4, it’s just one gear down.
As a fuel-injected bike with a smaller displacement engine, the RX4 is probably the winner from a fuel economy perspective. The Zongers tell me that the RX4 will get 65.3 mpg, but I haven’t verified that. I’m guessing I could do better (I usually do better than the manufacturer’s claims). My KLR returned a measured mid-50s mpg figure when I rode it at reasonable speeds. From a range perspective, I expect the two bikes are about the same. I could get an honest 250-miles out of a tank on the KLR. The RX4 has a 0.7-gallon smaller tank than the KLR (but it’s bigger than the RX3’s tank by one gallon), and as mentioned above it will probably get better fuel economy. There’s that business about how much fuel the RX4’s tank will actually hold when you delete the volume occupied by the fuel pump. From my perspective, if a bike can go 200 miles, that’s good enough for me (that’s the stretch south from El Rosario to the next Pemex, just north of Guerrero Negro). I’m pretty confident the RX4 will do 250 miles, and I know the KLR will.
Let’s talk handling. On the street, in the twisties, and at highway speeds and above the RX4 is the clear winner. The KLR gets very light and drifty at anything over an indicated 75 mph, and it’s downright gangly when pushed hard in the twisties. You can go faster than 75 mph on a KLR, but I didn’t feel comfortable on my KLR doing that. The RX4, on the other hand, feels rock solid up to indicated 99 mph (and it had more left at that speed; I just ran out of room). In the twisties, the RX4 is in its element. The RX4’s stock CST tires are great, and the RX4 frame, forks, rear suspension, and geometry are modern. The RX4 feels way more planted and secure in the twisties and at high speed than does the KLR (so does the RX3). The RX4’s design is nearly four decades more advanced than the KLR’s. What I’m saying here is not a slam on the KLR; that old bike did pretty well for its 30-year run.
On the tire issue, I like the CSTs that come with the RX3 and the RX4. I get great life out of the CST tires on my RX3 (usually, 6000 miles on a rear tire). The Kendas that come on the KLR are, at best, 2500-mile tires. They hook up okay, but they don’t last long. I replaced my KLR tires with Shinkos and never looked back.
On the issue of consumables, I got good life on my KLR’s chain. I had good buddy Gerry throw a new chain on the KLR at 14,000 miles, but it didn’t really need it. I don’t know about the stock chain’s life on the RX4, but the stock chain on the RX3 is a substandard component that is toast after about 5000 miles (and that, to borrow a word made popular two years ago, is deplorable). Like I said, I don’t know if Zongshen addressed this on the RX4, but if the chain is from the same company that provides the chain on the RX3, I’d expect to replace it with a real chain either immediately or after just a few thousand miles. The KLR gets my nod for stock chain life unless Zongshen has addressed this issue.
One more note on the Kawasaki’s road manners. My Gen I had this monstrous Tupperware fender that was attached high and wide on the forks. It caught any wind blowing from the side and that had a tendency to steer the bike. I think it was also one of the things that made the KLR’s high-speed handling flighty. The Gen II design changed the front fender, but I haven’t ridden a Gen II bike. I don’t know if the Gen II’s redesigned fender made the problem go away. As I said earlier, the RX4 is much better behaved at high speed.
I have not yet ridden the RX4 off road, so a lot of what I’m going to say next is speculation on my part. But it’s informed speculation. I felt my KLR did very well in the dirt and soft sand. The KLR is heavy, but it has good bottom end grunt and more torque than the RX4. That allowed me to get up to speed and on top of soft sand quickly. The KLR’s 21-inch front wheel helps, too (the RX4 has a 19-inch front wheel, and in anticipation of the obvious question, I don’t know if a 21-inch front wheel can be fitted to the RX4). The offroad keyboard commandos say the KLR is a pig in the dirt. Hey, what do I know? I thought it did well when I was tear-assing around Baja. I don’t know the suspension travel on the RX4, but I’m pretty sure it’s going to be less than the KLR. The bottom line: I think the KLR is the better choice if you are going to ride exclusively in the dirt. But then if you were going to do that you probably would not buy a KLR (there are other, better choices for dirt bikes).
With regard to standard equipment, there’s no comparison. The RX4 is equipped with luggage, better instrumentation, dual front disks, adjustable suspension, adjustable windshield, engine guards, 300-watt alternator, accessory outlets, switchable ABS, fuel injection, and that six-speed transmission. The KLR 650 has none of these things.
I had soft luggage on my KLR, which worked well enough, but I couldn’t lock it and it gave the bike a Beverly Hillbillies kind of look (not that there’s anything wrong with hillbillies). Some people like that look. I did at the time because it was a step up from bungee cords and gym bags. But that’s old school. The RX4 luggage is a huge improvement (both the stock bags and the optional aluminum bags).
From a maintenance perspective, the RX4 gets the nod. For starters, if CSC does what they have done for all their other bikes, you’ll get a shop manual and online maintenance tutorials for free. You won’t get that with a used KLR (and you didn’t get it with a new KLR, either). That means if you own a KLR you either bought a shop manual to do the work yourself, or you went to the dealer for maintenance. I’m not a big fan of dealer technicians for three reasons: Cost, competence, and honesty.
I believe the RX4 will be easier to maintain than the KLR. I don’t know this for a fact yet, but based on the RX3’s reliability and design I suspect it will be the case. The RX3 uses threaded adjustor nuts for adjusting the valves, and I’m guessing the RX4 will, too (I haven’t removed the valve covers on the RX4 yet). I know that the KLR uses shims and buckets; that approach greatly complicates the valve adjustment process. It involves removing both cams and it makes adjustments technically challenging and time consuming (which dealers and technicians love, because you get to pay for the time).
From a price perspective, a new RX4 will cost less than what a new KLR cost. And that’s before the typical Kawi dealer’s obscenely-bloated setup, freight, and documentation fees (it’s not unheard of for dealers to routinely add $1500 freight and setup fees). Folks, from the port to just about anywhere in the US, you can ship a bike for not more than $400, so the dealer shipping fees they put on their pricing sheets are twice (or more) actual cost. And their setup fees are pure, well, you know. Ask your dealer if they do the setup themselves or if they outsource it. Most dealers go with Door No. 2. Outsourced motorcycle setups typically cost between $35 and $50 per bike, and they are done by unskilled labor (not trained motorcycle techs). I know this because I’ve been an expert witness in motorcycle lawsuits, and this is what the dealers admit when they have to tell the truth during the discovery and deposition process. How much effort goes into setup and how well is it done? Let me explain it this way: When I bought my new KLR in 2006, the windshield fell off during the 5-mile ride home. It’s a ripoff of gargantuan proportions. I’ve never paid anywhere that much, but it’s what many of the dealers ask. It’s dishonest.
Back to that earlier keyboard commando statement: You can buy a used KLR for less than a new (fill in the blanks with any brand). Regarding used KLRs (which they all will be pretty soon), there’s no argument here: A used KLR will be less expensive than a new RX4. Duh. But then you’d have a used motorcycle with no warranty. If you want to go that route, someday in the near future you’ll be able to buy a used RX4, too. A used RX4 might be even less than a used KLR. I never understood the argument that posits you can buy something used for less money than new, particularly when it’s put forth by people with the same kind of conviction they might display if they had just discovered and announced that F=ma. It’s kind of like saying things fall when you drop them. The statement about new versus used is a dumb one. It’s obvious. Buy used, and it costs less. That’s true for just about everything on the planet (except maybe some guns). Like I said: Duh.
With regard to comfort, that’s a tough one. I’d say that’s a draw, with maybe the edge going to the RX4. I felt the ergos were perfect on my KLR. I also feel that way about the RX3 and the RX4. While I’m on that topic, I’ll briefly mention the RX3S (the 380cc twin from Zongshen with ADV styling and equipment comparable to the RX3 and the RX4). The RX3S had terrible ergos. My feet felt like they were scrunched up to my butt and my hips hurt as soon as I got on the RX3S. The RX3S might be a good bike, but with the current feet/butt/handlebars relationship, it was a nonstarter for me. To go tangential again for a second, I didn’t get the naming, either. The RX3S? Is that like a plural RX3?
Back to the KLR: The stock KLR seat is way too soft, which sounds like it would be a good thing, but that squishy seat gets uncomfortable quickly. I fixed that with a sheepskin seat pad, which I also use on RX3. The stock RX3 and RX4 seats (the two bikes use the same seat) won’t win any prizes for all-day comfort, but to me they are tolerable. The KLR 650 seat sits significantly higher than the RX4. When I rode my KLR, it was a tippy-toes affair at every stop (if you play for the Knicks, this won’t be a problem, but I don’t and for me it was an annoyance). The RX4 is not nearly as tall. I liked it better from a seat height perspective. It is slightly taller than the RX3 but lower than the KLR, and way lower than the GS1200 or those Special K giraffes from Austria.
Having said the above about seat height, I will tell you that the KLR was a bit easier for me to move around in the driveway than is the RX4. Kawasaki advertised the KLR’s weight at 432 lbs, which I know is baloney (mine tipped the scales well above that number). Zongshen advertises the RX4 at 450 lbs, and as you now from reading my previous blogs, I haven’t weighed the bike. Pushing the bike around in my driveway, though, the RX4 felt heavy. Maybe that’s just be the result of me being used to my RX3. But once I was moving on the RX4, it felt way more planted and it handled way better than the KLR (both in the twisties and at high speed), and it didn’t feel heavy at all. I can’t quantify the difference; I’m only giving you my impressions.
Fit and finish are unquestionably superior on the RX4. That’s not just compared to the KLR; that’s compared to any bike. Those of you who haven’t owned an RX3 may default to the typical China-bashing response. You know, the one that says: That-can’t-be-possible-it’s-made-in-China. But it is what it is. I think the finish on the RX4 is even better than the RX3. It’s very good. Little things stand out. The RX4 footpegs are nicely-cast aluminum affairs with rubber inserts; the KLR’s footpegs are cheap bent stampings with a rubber liner that wears out quickly. The RX4 has tapered handlebars and high-end switchgear; the KLR has a regular constant-diameter handlebars and cheap switches. The RX4 paint is world class (it’s deep and luxurious); the KLR used plastic with the colors molded in. The RX4 has a steel skid plate and engine guards as standard equipment; the KLR has no engine guards and a plastic skid plate. A plastic skid plate? Really, Kawasaki?
The windshield on the RX4 looks better finished, it’s adjustable, and it just flat works better than does the KLR windshield (and the RX4 windshield didn’t fall off on the way home). I know, I know, I keep coming back to that windshield falling off my KLR on the ride home from the dealer. It still pisses me off, even though I negotiated the Kawasaki dealer setup fee down from pure larceny to a much-more-modest profit contribution. What rubbed salt in that wound was that the KLR windshield mounting screws were lost when the windshield fell off, they were non-standard screws, and when I went back to the dealer they didn’t have them in stock. In my experience, that last part is a typical response from most dealers (you know, the not-in-stock thing). CSC stocks everything; that’s another plus for the RX4. While I’m on a windshield roll, there’s one more thing that I didn’t like about the KLR’s windshield. I went through five or six of the things over the life of the bike. They always developed cranks that migrated out from the mounting holes, mandating a replacement windscreen. My RX3 never did that, and I suspect the RX4 won’t, either.
Having said all of the above, I liked the looks of my First Gen KLR. Yeah, it was a Tupperware Titan, but I liked it. It was a tool that looked like a tool. It was utilitarian and honest. I think the Gen II KLR looked like Kawasaki was trying to put lipstick on a pig. I like my pigs to look like pigs. The Gen I KLR did and I liked that.
I already mentioned that the RX4 comes standard with USB and 12V power outlets, and underseat accessory plugs. The RX4 has a 300-watt alternator; the KLR alternator output is substantially lower. A funny story about CSC’s practice of putting 300-watt alternators on their ADV bikes: When I was looking at the RX3 in Chongqing back in 2014, I saw a police variant. I asked the Zongmen how the police versions handled the extra police equipment. A Zongshen engineer told me that they install 300-watt alternators on the police bikes to support the added lights, flashers, radio gear, siren, speakers, etc. Hmmmm, could CSC get that on all of its bikes? No problemo, they said. And thus the 300-watt CSC legend was born. The TT250 has a 300-watt alternator, too.
The RX4 instruments are the same as those on the RX3. While the info is more complete than on the KLR, lighting for the RX4 and RX3 indicator lights (the turn signal indicators, the high beam indicator, etc.) is too dim to read in the daytime. My good buddy Rob Morel has relatively simple fix for this problem; he removed the sort-of-translucent plastic layer between the lamps and the dash cover, and oila, now you can see the indicator lights. Zongshen ought to spec all of their bikes that way.
Neither the RX4 nor the KLR has a centerstand. Both bikes have tool kits, but both are laughable. The stock tool kits are the standard cheap items you get with most new bikes, if you get anything at all (my umpteen-thousand-dollar Harley Softail had no toolkit whatsoever, which is kind of funny if you think about it).
So there you have it. Chris, my apologies for the longwinded response to your question about the RX4 and the KLR. Thanks very much for the suggestion.
Having said all of the above, I guess the obvious question is: What would I buy? I wasn’t riding my KLR very much the last few years I owned it because I had my RX3 and TT250. I finally sold the KLR, but I miss the bike and like I said, I enjoyed it. If I had to make a choice, would I buy a new KLR or a new RX4? A motorcycle is an emotional purchase and an individual decision, and it’s a decision not usually based on logic. My belief is that most people buy a motorcycle that projects an image they want to see of themselves, which is why the industry has tended toward oversized, overpowered, and ridiculously-tall adventure bikes. KLR versus RX4? I don’t think it would be a mistake going with either bike. But I am convinced the RX4 is a much better motorcycle.
Want to see the RX3 versus RX4 comparisons? You can do so here.
Want to read about the RX3 and KLR adventures in Baja? Pick up a copy of Moto Baja!
This will be the final installment of the RX3 and RX4 comparisons. We’ve got one more coming up after this, and that’s the RX4-to-KLR 650 comparis0n. And then, another cool and quick review…the BMW GS 310. Yep, I rode one of those yesterday to get a feel for how it compares to the RX3. That will be in another review. For now, on to the RX3 and RX4 final comparison in this series…
Take a look at the swingarms on the RX3 and the RX4. The RX4 has a much beefier unit, as you can see below.
Overall, the RX4 swingarm appears to be much better design than that on the RX3. The only aspect of the RX3’s swingarm that I think I like better is the axle adjustment design. On the RX3, the threaded adjusters can be used to move the rear wheel forward or backward. On the RX4, it looks like Zongshen took a more conventional approach, where the adjusters can be used to move the wheel rearward, but you have to manually push the wheel forward.
I may have already mentioned this next point in an earlier blog, but I’ll mention it again. On the RX4, the exhaust pipe sweeps down and under the engine, and then it sweeps up again to the muffler behind the engine. The RX3 has an upswept pipe.
The purist will undoubtedly flood the forums with comments about the RX4’s downswept pipe. My reaction is: Meh. It’s the same approach as used on my Triumph Tiger. Upswept, downswept, six to one, half a dozen to the other. As the Germans say, machst nicht. That is, unless you’re changing the oil or adding oil. Then the RX4’s downswept pipe (and the improved access it offers to the oil fill ports) starts looking pretty good.
Here’s another significant difference: The radiator. The RX4 uses a single large radiator, compared to the RX3’s two smaller radiators.
I like the RX4 radiator approach better. Simple is better in the engineering world, and a single radiator makes a lot more sense to me.
Moving on, we’ll next take a look at the grips and controls on the RX3 and the RX4. The RX3 photos you see here are my RX3, which is a 2015 model. In 2015, the RX3 did not have bar end balancers, but Zongshen added these in 2016 and beyond. Also, the 2015 RX3 had chromed bars, all subsequent years had subdued silver paint on the bars.
When Zongshen made the RX3 handlebar change, I wondered why they messed with something that worked so well. There was more to the story than I knew at the time. It basically went like this: The Chinese motorcycle industry took a major hit and underwent a significant shakeout in recent years. The US motorcycle market did, too. Here at home, the market dropped to 50% of its former levels with the Great Recession of 2008, and it has never moved much beyond that point since. We had a double whammy here: Banks and lending companies stopped giving 4th, 5th, and 6th mortgages to folks wanting to buy motorcycles (I’m exaggerating, but only slightly), and our demographics changed. Older guys aren’t buying bikes like they used to (they’re aging out), and Millenials are more interested in cell phones and self-driving cars than they are in motorcycles. And while all of this was going on, the industry here in the US continued (and continues) to offer outsized and overpriced choices. In China, there has similarly been a double whammy, but the two strikes are of a different nature. China is concentrating its population in the cities, and (incredibly) China is outlawing motorcycles in its cities. I know, it’s nuts, but it is what it is.
Anyway, all of this caught up with the Chinese motorcycle industry, and a lot of lower level motorcycle component suppliers in China finally called it a day in 2015-2016. That’s what resulted in the need for a new RX3 handlebar supplier going into the 2016 model year. With that change, Zongshen included bar end weights, which I think were unnecessary. Nah, change that: I know they were unnecessary, because I have a 2015 RX3 with no bar end weights and a zillion miles on the clock, and I’ve never had an issue with vibration.
All righty then…to dial this back to today, the bottom line is that both the RX3 and the RX4 have bar end weights. But not mine, because it’s a 2015 RX3. With that in mind, here we go…
So, about that sloppy bar-end fit on the left side of the RX4 preproduction prototype: While I was disappointed in this minor detail, I have to point out that it was the only area on the motorcycle that was poorly fit. Every other aspect of the RX4 (and I mean literally every other bit related to fit and finish) was absolutely world class. The bike just screams quality. The paint, the fit, the finish, everything. Except that sloppy left side bar-end weight.
Moving on to the right side of the bike, here’s the right side grip and control area on my RX3. Note the A2, A1, and O switch; it controls the RX3’s underseat accessory plugs.
Here’s the same view of the RX4’s right side grip.
The photo above shows the RX4 preproduction bike, which has the headlight switch for on, auto, and off. I’m told the US configuration bikes will only have the on and auto positions. The on position turns on the headlight; the auto position leaves the LED headlight outline on all the time but only turns the headlight on when it senses it is dark. The A1 and A2 switch for the underseat accessory plugs will be controlled by an optional CSC-unique handlebar-mounted switch. At least that’s the plan as of this writing.
On this issue of bar-end weights: Like I said above, vibration is a non-issue on both bikes. If I concentrate on trying to feel it, I guess I would say the RX4 has a barely-detectable higher vibration level than the RX3, but you have to really focus on trying to tell the difference. I’d drop the bar-end weights on both bikes. But then, I don’t make a million motorcycles a year. Zongshen does.
The big difference in the wheels between the RX4 and the RX3 is that the RX3 has spoked steel rims and cast wheels are not an option. On the RX4, the wheels are spoked aluminum rims, and cast aluminum wheels are an option.
For comparison, here’s the wheel and tire on the front of my RX3.
The last area I’ll describe is the dash and instrumentation, and that part is easy: They are identical. Well, almost. The instrumentation is the same. The dash is a little different in that on the RX3, the USB and 12V chargers are optional accessories; on the RX4, they are standard equipment.
The RX4 instruments, which are identical to the RX3’s (including the 10-12% optimistic speedometers). Note the standard-equipment USB and 12V accessory outlets to the left and right of the speedometer. And folks, that wraps it up on the RX3-versus-RX4 comparisons. It was fun, and it was really fun to be the first to evaluate the RX4 and publish these findings on it here on the ExhaustNotes blog. My overall take is that the RX4 is a quality machine. It’s a little heavier than the RX3, but I suppose that’s to be expected on a motorcycle with nearly twice the displacement of the RX3. The handling and freeway performance is a substantial notch above the RX3. I don’t believe anyone is offering a comparable, fully-equipped adventure touring package at any price in the 450cc class, and that makes this motorcycle noteworthy (especially in view of the fact that this displacement is so obviously perfect for a serious roadburner). CSC asked me to mention that they are taking deposits now, and here’s the page where you can do that.
If you’d like to read all of the RX3-to-RX4 comparisons, here’s the page to do that. Stay tuned, because we have an RX4-to-KLR comparison coming up soon, and (as mentioned above), we’ll also be publishing a quick ride review of the BMW GS 310. BMW has a significantly different path to market than does CSC, and that difference (to me) is even more interesting than is a comparison between the two motorcycles. We’ll talk about that, too.
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Yesterday was a fun day. I was at Brown BMW in the morning for my GS 310 ride, and I got to chat with Bob Brown a bit while I was there. Then it was over to CSC to visit with the guys there. I’m happy to report that both places were hopping. This morning, I’m off to the rifle range to evaluate a few new loads, and tomorrow, it’s the International Motorcycle Show in Long Beach (watch for the photos here on the ExhaustNotes blog). Good times, folks.
Back when we were running Briggs and Stratton mini-bikes a few kids had Yamaha Mini Enduro 60cc or Honda Mini Trail 50cc bikes. Both of these bikes were stone reliable and a real leap forward from the hard-tail, flathead, one-speed stationary motored mini-bikes. I had a blue Mini Trail Honda that was indestructible. Riding the Everglades of South Florida the cooling fins would cake with mud and the engine would overheat until it would stop running. Just stop.
Clearing the fins with a handy stick and waiting fifteen minutes restored the bike to health and I could ride away. This happened several times a day and the bike never used oil or smoked. Like I say, Stone Ax.
Into these tiny times strode a colossus: The Steen Alsport 100. What a machine! The Steen was equipped with a 100cc Hodaka engine, and the front forks were Earles type utilizing a swingarm and held up by two oil-damped shocks. The gas tank was fiberglass and beautifully shaped. White was the only color I saw but there were other colors. Steens were rare around the neighborhood.
The Steen was a little larger than a Mini Enduro or an SL70 but smaller than the (to us) full-sized Yamaha 90cc Enduro. The black expansion chamber (stock!) running along the side gave the bike a race-ready appearance. Whoever styled the Steen absolutely nailed it, as the Steen is still one of the best-looking motorcycles from any era.
I have no idea how the bike handled with the swingarm forks. With so much metal spread over such a large area I would guess the front turned heavier than it actually was. Later Steen went with a conventional fork, probably for looks more than suspension performance. The bike sounded great. It had a sharp cackle that our muted minis could not match. Even the Alsport logo and striping were cool.
Dealerships more so than motorcycle quality determined motorcycle popularity at the start of the 1970’s. There were no Hodakas to be found. Very few Kawasakis or Suzukis populated our riding areas. Oddly enough a Montesa or Bultaco might ride by. These were huge motorcycles. The Steen didn’t have much of a dealer network In Miami so there was only the one kid who had a Steen in our group. I should remember his name but it has slipped away to that place all memories eventually slip.
Today Steens are not outrageously priced. I see them for a thousand or two fairly often. Maybe people don’t know what they are or Hodakas are seen as more real; I don’t care, I love the things. If I win the lottery I’ll have a Steen just to stare at. I’ll start it up a few times a day and listen to the cackle.
Here’s one that sold for $1600 a few years ago:
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I had a hard time deciding on the title for this blog. The other contender was “Thank you for your service.”
Sue and I traveled through Tennessee last week. It’s a glorious state with a lot to see. I expected that. What I didn’t expect was the way we were treated on Veteran’s Day. I couldn’t pay for anything. When Sue and I went to the Jack Daniel’s Distillery in Lynchburg, they asked if either of us were veterans. I guess I was surprised at the question and I didn’t answer immediately, but Sue did. “Yes, my husband was in the Army.”
“There’s no charge for you today, then, sir, and thank you for your service.”
Wow, I just saved $20. That was nice.
The Jack Daniel’s tour was fun, even though it was raining cats and dogs on that fine Tennessee Veteran’s Day. Our tour guide, Melissa, made it especially so, with one great story after another. I’ve known of Jack Daniel’s for a long time; what I didn’t know was that it was a sleepy backwater distillery for most of its life until a young crooner named Frank Sinatra made it known he wouldn’t drink anything else. Frank Sinatra was buried with a bottle of Jack, along with a dollar’s worth of dimes because he didn’t know where he was going, but he knew they might have pay phones there. Frank Sinatra’s favor put Jack Daniel’s on the map, and the rest, as they say, is history.
I found out that if you work at Jack Daniel’s, you get a free bottle of Jack every month (and they are always hiring). I learned that every bottle of Jack Daniel’s ever made has been made at that plant, which is fed by an underground spring with water that is perfect for producing Tennessee sipping whiskey. I learned that you can buy Jack Daniel’s by the barrel, and more than a few folks do (they have an entire wall lined with small plaques denoting those who did). Melissa walked us through the entire manufacturing process, and as a former manufacturing guy, I found it fascinating. They have a statue of Jack Daniel standing on several large boulders and, of course, they refer to it as “Jack on the Rocks.” We opted for the tasting tour at the end, and I learned that there are actually five variants of Old No. 7. All of them are really, really good. We had a blast.
After our amazing Jack Daniel’s tour, we stopped for lunch at the Southern Perks restaurant in Lynchburg. When we ordered our lunch, the young lady behind the counter popped the same question: Are either of you veterans? Again, Sue was quick to answer, and again, the response was the same: “Thank you for your service, sir. Your lunch is on us today.”
Wow. I was speechless. A little choked up, actually. I’ve never been treated like this, and I left the Army a cool 42 years ago. I didn’t know what to say, and like always, I thought of the right response too late. When I hear “Thanks for your service” the next time, I’ll have my answer ready.