The Interceptor

The Interceptor in Baja’s wine country along the Antigua Ruta del Vino south of Ensenada.  I think the Enfield is a perfect motorcycle.   I thoroughly enjoyed our Baja ride on it, and I’m planning to buy one for myself.  The spirit of the British vertical twin is alive and well in this fine machine.  I’ll point out a few nits in this article, but folks, trust me on this:  This is an amazing motorcycle.

When I was a teenager and LBJ was in the White House,  my standard against which all motorcycles were judged was the 1965 Triumph Bonneville. To me, that represented the ultimate motorcycle, and to this day, it’s what I think of when people start talking about the perfect motorcycle.   It’s what came to mind when Royal Enfield announced the 650 Interceptor.  I think 650 cubic centimeters is a good size for a motorcycle. I think a British vertical twin is the perfect vehicle (to borrow a phrase from good buddy Melissa Pierson).   And I know that Baja is the best place on the planet for a motorcycle trip.  That’s why I wanted to get the new Enfield and ride it through Baja.  The perfect bike on the perfect ride.  I predicted it would be a great trip.  I was right.

Originally, we wanted to get two Interceptors, but they weren’t available. Enfield countered with an offer of two 500cc singles. Okay, we thought, that would do, and we realized it was a gutsy move on Enfield’s part to lend the bikes to us. Then that same dealer we’ve been so disappointed in couldn’t seem to get around to getting the bikes ready for us, and the plan shifted to an Interceptor and a Bullet. Even better, thought Gresh and I, and we were off, headed south into Baja.  The two different bikes would make for an interesting contrast.

It’s a funny thing; we thought the story would focus primarily on the newer bike (the Interceptor), but the Bullet proved to be a fun and interesting motorcycle (like Gresh mentioned in his blog below). Don’t get me wrong; the Interceptor is an amazing machine. In fact, I’d say it was perfect. But it was almost too good (and I’ll get to that further along in this post).

Back in the day when I was a youngster dreaming about owning a Triumph Bonneville, I only knew one guy who rode an original Royal Enfield twin.  That was Ricky Stang, a guy I knew in high school (go Vikings). Everyone else who rode was either on a Triumph or a Honda. Ricky had this amazing Enfield 750 with an all-chrome gas tank.  He was (and still is) a cool guy.   How cool, you might wonder?  Well, he bought a Mustang car and modified the emblems by chopping off the M and the U, so his car said STANG (Ricky’s last name). That’s how we rolled back in the ‘60s.

Okay, back to the main attraction: The 2019 Royal Enfield Interceptor. Let’s start with the basics. It’s a 650cc vertical twin, just like my dream bike, the ’65 Triumph Bonneville. The Enfield brochure (downloadable on the Internet) puts the “kerb” weight at 202 kg (that’s 445 lbs; the ’65 Bonneville was 363 lbs), the wheelbase at 1400mm (that’s 55 inches, just like the ’65 Bonneville), and the horsepower at 47 (the ’65 Bonneville had 50). The new Enfield has a 6-speed transmission (the ’65 Bonneville had a 4-speed).  Hmm, the right displacement and the right dimensions.  The Enfield weighed a bit more, but the ’65 Bonneville didn’t have disk brakes front and rear, ABS, electric start, turn signals, an oil cooler, or catalytic converters.

The Enfield engine is magnificent. It is very torquey, and on our Baja foray I never felt like I was undergunned. The exhaust note is perfect (it sounds like a real motorcycle).  The engine is extremely smooth. It didn’t seem to care what gear I was in; I could just roll on the throttle and the bike responded. In fact, a lot of times I’d be riding along thinking I was in 6th gear only to discover that the bike was in 5th or even 4th. It is that smooth.  And a lot of times while climbing mountains in Baja’s Valle de los Cirios, I didn’t have to bother downshifting.   Twist and go.  Cool.  We had the bike weighed down with lots of gear on our Baja trip; the Enfield didn’t seem to care.  The engine is a 4-valve per cylinder, single overhead cam design, but the Enfield folks somehow managed to pull off the styling such that it looks a lot like the original overhead valve Enfield design of the 1960s (kudos for that).   It is a good-looking and brilliantly-performing motor.

Perhaps the best-looking engine in the business, this SOHC, 4-valves-per-cylinder motor strongly resembles the 1960s Enfield OHV motor. The left side engine cases make it look like a non-unit-construction engine. Well done, Enfield!

The bike never felt heavy to me.  The Enfield carries its weight low and it felt light and quick everywhere.  Yeah, on paper it’s 80 lbs heavier than the ’65 Bonneville.  It didn’t feel like it, though.  It feels good.

Enfield’s spec sheet says the bike is air-and-oil cooled, and there’s a non-obtrusive oil cooler mounted on the frame downtubes.   The engine looks perfect. It’s nicely finned and you can see the thing.  The exhaust system is a work of art.  The mufflers are nicely shaped megaphones and brilliantly plated, and the exhaust header curvature is perfect.  (Why is the word “perfect” emerging so frequently in this report?)   I’m guessing the headers are a “pipe in a pipe” arrangement, as the pipes exhibited no heat discoloration.   The clamps securing the exhaust headers to the cylinder head are neatly finned gizmos, just like Triumph had in the ’60s.   Both sides of the engine have beautiful cases.   Gresh commented that the engine’s left side cases were fashioned to make it look like the bike had separate engine and transmission cases, as Enfield had in days of yore.   The Enfield guys got it right.  I am impressed.

A magnificent exhaust system.  The curvature of the pipes and the upswept cans are perfect.
If we had any, Gresh and I could comb our hair in those engine cases.

Gresh mentioned in an earlier blog that he reached 115 mph in 5th gear and 110 mph in 6th, confirming that 6th is really an overdrive. I never took the bike over 80; it would do it, I just didn’t want to. I found the bike stable at any speed. Fuel economy is outstanding. When we took delivery of the bike, it had 847 miles on the odometer and Joe measured 60 mpg on the first tank.  On our last tank, with another 1300 miles on the bike, it returned 70 mpg.  It never used any oil on our trip.

The headlight is a big chrome affair, just like Triumph (and basically all the British manufacturers) used to do.  The beam was good, too.   It lit up the street nicely.

The bike has a single disk in front and another in the rear.  Both are ABS equipped.  There’s no provision that we could see to turn the ABS off.   Joe slammed the rear brake on a dirt road, and you could see where the ABS activated on and off in the bike’s track.   The brakes are good.  I never used them hard enough to activate the ABS feature, and that was okay by me.

The fuel tank is nicely contoured with a teardrop shape (it looks like a motorcycle gas tank should).  Fuel capacity is 13.7 liters (that converts to 3.6 gallons).    The tank emblems are gorgeous, although there was a very slight curvature mismatch where the leading edge of the emblem interfaced with the tank.   That’s my inner motojournalist kicking in.  I had to find something negative to say about the bike, and folks, this is one of very few nits I had with the bike.  Yeah, I’m being picky.  The gas cap is of the locking variety (it unlocks with the ignition key), and the cap is not hinged on the tank.  You take it completely off when refilling.   The bike ran equally well on regular or premium, and we mostly ran on regular because that’s all we could get once we went further into Baja.

The badging is magnificent.  No funky cheap decals here.
Picky, picky, picky…there’s a slight curvature mismatch at the front of the tank emblems. It was consistent on both sides of the tank.

Here’s another nit:  Joe and I both felt the left side of the bike is crowded around the footpeg.  The gearshift is a little too close (I guess it could be adjusted upward, and I’d like the lever to be a little longer).   The extensions for the kickstand and the centerstand extend far enough outside the bike and they are close enough to the footpeg that putting your foot down is a bit challenging.  I didn’t like that all of that stuff (the gearshift, the footpeg, the kickstand extension, and the centerstand extension) stuck as far out as they did, and I had to think about where I put my foot down more than I do on other motorcycles.  On the plus side, shifting was slick and effortless, there was no clunking, and the bike almost changed gears telepathically (it was that smooth).  Getting the kickstand down was easy with the long extension, and pulling the bike up on the centerstand was also easy.  Enfield provides a nice handhold on the left side of the bike for that purpose.

Things are crowded on the left side of the bike, and I had to be careful putting my left foot down.
The shift lever was a little too low and a little too close to the left footpeg.

I’d call the instrumentation perfect (ah, there’s that word again).  As I mentioned in one of the first blogs we did on the Interceptor, Enfield captured the essence of the big old Smiths instruments that used to adorn British bikes back in the ’60s.   The bike has a digital, bar-based fuel gage in the left pod, an analog speedo and tach, high beam and turn signal indicators, an ABS light, and an odometer and two tripmeters.  Stated differently, it has all the good stuff you need and none of the stuff you don’t.  The tripmeter reset was a pushbutton between the speedo and tach.  I found the tripmeter reset a little hard to actuate, but I haven’t been hitting the gym lately.

Perfect instrumentation, in my opinion.  The chrome crossbar is a little cheesy.

The horn on this bike is loud. It sounds like a European automobile horn.  I liked that.

On the bodywork, everything looks great.  The tank, as mentioned above, is is nicely shaped and the metalflake tangerine color is stunning.  The Interceptor’s fenders are nicely shaped, a bit abbreviated (which I like), silver in color, and plastic, all of which is fine by me.  The bike has a deep gloss black tubular double downtube frame, and that answers the mail nicely for a refined and classic Britbike look.  The seat is long, not overly cushy, flat, and comfortable (it has a cable-actuated release accessible under the right body panel).  The side covers work, too.  I like that they are black.  It fits the overall look nicely.

The handlebar switchgear is the same as the Bullet, which is the same as the CSC motorcycles, which is the same as 90% of the motorcycles sold today.  Somewhere, there’s a single factory making handlebar switchgear for everyone.  My guess is that factory has a Chongqing zip code.  It all works nicely.  The turn signals are not self-cancelling.   The clutch and front brake levers (forgive me, Joe Gresh) fell easily to hand and were light to operate.  One more minor nit:  Joe noticed that the front brake left was shaped such that it had a minor drag against the right handlebar switchgear housing, and that this slight drag prevented the brake lever from returning all the way to the forward position (you could touch the front brake lever with your fingers to make it go all the forward).  We probably could have adjusted that interference out by repositioning the front brake lever on the handlebar, but we did not.  It’s a nit that will almost certainly be gone when the bikes go into production for the US market.  Joe liked the handlebar crossbar; I thought it was the only thing on the bike that looked cheap.   I think it would have been better if it was an integral part of the handlebar, as Janus does on their Gryffin model and CSC does on the TT250.

Standard switchgear on the left handlebar.
Standard switchgear on the right handlebar, too.
There was a slight bit of interference between the switchgear housing and the front brake lever in the area denoted by the yellow arrow.

The front suspension is not adjustable, and if you have been following the ExNotes Enfield Baja blog, you know that’s okay by me.  The rear suspension is adjustable for preload.  As delivered to us, the rear shocks were set to a medium position.   Our bike, being a preproduction prototype, did not have a tool kit, so there was no spanner to make any rear shock adjustments.   You can see from some of our photos that we had the Interceptor loaded heavily with our gear and soft luggage, and I managed to bottom out the rear suspension a couple of times.  No big deal.  Suspension travel is about what’s needed on a street bike.   The wheels are 18-inchers  front and rear.

Silver fenders, unpainted wire wheels, and Pirelli tires. It all came together for a crisp, responsive, good-looking motorcycle.
The rear carries 130/70-18 tires. The bike rides and handles well.

Our Enfield benefactor told us that officially the bike is to be known as the 650 INT, as the Interceptor name had some issues.  I’m guessing that’s because a certain other motorcycle uses that name today (hint: that motorcycle is usually red).   Ah, whatever.  It seems to me that Enfield of yore (in the UK Enfield days) used the Interceptor name long before you met those nicest people on a…well, you know.  And then, of course, there was the Ford Interceptor, the name the Blue Oval guys stuck on their police cruisers.  So I thought I might help Enfield by suggesting a few other names.  My first idea was that maybe they could call this bike the Kool Long Range 650 to honor our 1300-mile Baja adventure and the bike’s displacement, but that would abbreviate to KLR 650, and…well, you know.  Another idea was that because the bike has electric starting and it is such a smooth ride, we could call it the Electra-Glide, but…well, you know.   And then, because it is so well balanced and tractable with its torquey motor, we might call it the Go Slow, but that becomes GS, and I think someone is already using those initials.   The tank badges are kind of gold in color and shaped like a wing, so maybe Gold Wing would work (is that already taken?).  Maybe, because of where the bike is manufactured, we could just call it the Indian.  What’s that?  That name is already taken, too?  It’s tough, I guess, naming a new bike.

Overall, I am extremely impressed with the new Royal Enfield 650 Interceptor.   So much so, that I’m going to buy one if (as I mentioned in an earlier blog) I can convince the dealer that I’m not stupid and I’m not subsidizing their freight and setup fantasies.   At first blush, one of the dealers told me freight and setup on this bike would be $1200.  Uh huh.   Look, I know that you can ship a bike anywhere in the lower 48 states for something around $350 (and that’s a max number; if you’re shipping it to a closer state it’s a lot less, and if you’re shipping several, the rates drop even more).   Setup on this bike probably involves installing the mirrors, maybe the handlebars, and the front wheel, and all that should take under an hour.  I don’t know why the dealers persist in this gouge-the-customer-for-freight-and-setup larceny.  Well, I take that back. I do know. I just don’t like it, and I won’t pay it.   A realistic freight and setup cost (to the dealer) is most likely below $350, and with a reasonable profit that number would go a little higher.  But not $1200.  No way, no how.

Okay, off the soapbox and back to the bike.   I think the Enfield 650 is one of the best motorcycles I’ve ever ridden.  It’s light, it’s smooth, it’s fast, it handles well, it gets good fuel economy, and the fit and finish are world class.  It’s almost too good, in that maybe it doesn’t have the character or personality of the Bullet, or a 1965 Triumph Bonneville.  But that’s a trade I’d make.  Enfield hit a home run with the Interceptor.  I think it’s perfect.

 

18 again!

Gresh left New Mexico headed for Los Angeles early this morning. What’s that white stuff?

Imagine you’re an old fart like Gresh and suddenly you could be again 18 years old again.  That’s kind of what happened to me just a short while ago.  Now, old Joe Gresh, he’s inbound from the Sacramento Mountains (don’t let the name fool you) in New Mexico, the Tinfiny Ranch, headed here.   The guy wanted to make the drive in one day in order to be staged for our run into Baja tomorrow.  Hey, that’s okay.  It’s going to be warmer where we’re going.

Anyway, back to that 18-years-old-thing again.   That’s what I want to be.  18 years old.  And while I’m dreaming, throw in a new 1966 650cc, made-in-England, Triumph Bonneville, but let’s add electric start, six speeds, disc brakes, and a flawless finish.  That’s my dream.

Only it’s not a dream. That’s where I am right now.

The bike is a new Royal Enfield Interceptor.  It’s a 650.  The styling is perfect, right down to the big tach and speedo that almost say “Smiths” (if I have to explain that, you wouldn’t understand).  It’s made in India instead of England (hey, the current Triumph Bonnevilles are made in Thailand).   My take?  This new motorcycle has out-Triumphed Triumph in being more faithful to the original layout, displacement, and feel of the ’66 Bonneville I’ve lusted after for years.   But with lots more refinement.

A brand new Royal Enfield 650 Interceptor in my driveway. It’s my ride for the next 10 days or so.
For my good buddy Orlando: See, it’s orange…the fastest color!
You can almost see where it says Smiths.  This, folks, is what motorcycle instruments should look like!

Want to read another strong statement?  On my 25-mile ride home from So Cal Moto in Brea, where I picked up the Royal Enfield, I decided I’m going to buy one.   Oh, I’ll find some nits to pick over the next 2000 BajaBound miles and I’ll share them with you here, but this bike answers the mail.   And the price?  Well, a new Triumph Bonneville cost $1320 in 1966.  I know, because my Dad bought one.  A new Royal Enfield is $5799, I think.  If you take that 1966 $1320 figure and adjust it for inflation to 2019, it comes out to $10,298.   Buy a new Enfield 650 and you’ve already saved $4500.  That’s the argument I’m going to use with She Who Must Be Obeyed.  I think it will work, too.

I’m going to break our rule and post more than one blog today.  We are living in exciting times, my friends, and I can’t wait to share the excitement with you.   The 500cc Bullet is about 45 minutes out (it’s being delivered from the RE dealer in Glendale) and I’ll post an update about that later today, too!

I can’t wait to get on the road tomorrow.

Stay tuned, and hey, sign up for our automatic email blog updates!

Dream Bike: Ducati 860GT

There are only a couple Ducatis that make my Dream Bike fantasy garage and the numero uno, top dog, ultimate Ducati is the springer 860. Unlike most Ducatis, this square-case, 90-degree, V-twin motorcycle eliminates the positive-closing desmodromic valve actuation system and in its place uses a conventional spring-return valve train. To some posers this change negates the whole reason for owning a Ducati. Not in my view: The ability to set valve lash with only a potato peeler on a motorcycle axle deep in cow manure plus the fact that I rarely run any motorcycle at valve floating RPMs means Desmo Ducks hold no advantage for me.

Is it wrong to love a motorcycle solely for its looks?  Giorgetto Giugiaro’s Jetson-cartoon styling speaks of optimism and a bold stepping-forth into the future. It looks fabulous and slabby and never ages in my eyes. This is one of those motorcycles you can stare at for hours. Why stop there? I’ve never ridden an 860GT so I’m just extrapolating from Ducati’s past performance but I’m sure the thing will handle street riding without issue.

The bikes were available with electric start for the kicking-impaired and after 1975 Ducati exchanged the perfect angular styling for the more traditional, rounded Desmo GT look. It was an error that I may never forgive them for. The springer 860 stayed in production a few more years but Ducati decided to go all in with desmodromic to give their advertising department some thing to boast about.

These 860GT Ducati’s are for riders. The seating position is humane, the gas tank big enough and I’ve read of some pretty astronomical miles racked up on the springer engine. A few years ago at an auction in Daytona I missed out on a beautiful red 860GT. The thing looked like new and sold for $5000. Damn cheap for such a rare (built only 2 years) and cool motorcycle.

Dream Garage

If I had all the money, I’d be one of those crazy collector types, like Jay Leno or Anthony Hopkins, the Silence Of The Lambs guy. You know, the kind that has 177 motorcycles, their Great Paw-Paw’s washing machine motor and 42 washed-up old cars stored in three aircraft hangers. All of my bikes would be in neat rows, I’d have every color of every year of each model and they would all sit in my gigantic storage shed and slowly seize up. And when I die there’d be an auction where the stuff would sell for pennies on the dollar to a bunch of soulless flippers intent on making old motorcycles as expensive and annoying as the collector car scene is today.

Maybe I’d organize both cars and bikes by engine type. There would be a Kawasaki 750 triple, a Saab 93 triple, a Suzuki 750 triple next to a crisp, modern Honda NS400. Flathead Row would have a Melroe Bobcat with the air-cooled Wisconsin V-4, and all three Harley flatties: The 45- incher, the Sportster KH and that big block they made (74-inch?). You’d have to have an 80-inch Indian and the Scout along with most of the mini bikes built in the 1970s.

I love a disc-valve two stroke but I’ve never owned one. First bikes in that section will be a bunch of Kawasaki twins (350cc and 250cc). I’d have a CanAm because with their carb tucked behind the cylinder instead of jutting out the side they don’t look like disc bikes should. A Bridgestone 350 twin without an air filter element would be parked next to a ferocious Suzuki 125cc square-four road racer, year to be determined.

Besides the two-stroke Saab I’d have a two-stroke Suzuki LJ 360cc 4X4 with the generator that turns into the starter motor like an old Yamaha AT1-125. I’d need a metalflake orange Myers Manx dune buggy. It would be that real thick kind of metalflake that looks like some kind of novelty candy served only on Easter or found in table centerpieces at wedding receptions. A few Chevy trucks from the 1960’s would make it into the collection also. A mid-60’s Chevy van, the swoopy one, would be a must-have to go with one of those giant steam tractors, the ones with the steel wheels and the chain wrapped around the steering shaft and then to the center pivot front axle to make the beast turn hard.

To complement the Bobcat I’d have a gas-engined backhoe, something from the 1950’s with all new hoses and tires. I’ll paint it yellow with a roller and then hand paint “The Jewel” in red on both sides of the hood with the tiny artist’s brush from a child’s watercolor set. The backhoe would be a smooth running liquid-cooled flathead with an updraft carburetor and it would reek of unburnt fuel whenever you lifted a heavy load in the front bucket.

No one would be as into my junk as me, so I’d have to hire a guy to feign interest in the stuff. I think $10 an hour should get me a sidekick who would always be amazed at what I had found. We’d both marvel at how little work or parts the item would need to get it running and then we’d push it into an empty space. After a cold beer from a refrigerator plastered with Klotz decals he’d run his card through the time clock with a resounding clunk, leaving me and the shop cat sitting in my beat-up brown vinyl recliner to stare at my collection and wonder if I really had all the money.

Zed’s Not Dead: Part 13

I’m not superstitious but the 13th installment of Zed’s Not Dead ran into a few problems. I’ve been having good luck misting a light coat of Krylon black spray paint onto bare metal sections of Zed. It really freshened the frame without looking like the frame had been completely repainted.

Until I misted the swing arm, for some reason the transition zone between bare metal and original paint bubbled up making a mess out of the thing. I don’t know what the difference was but after trying to remedy the situation four times I gave up, sanded the swing arm and shot it with primer. The black paint laid down nicely after that but so much for keeping it original-ish.

I started on the front brake system and noticed this cool little eccentric bolt that adjusts the free play on the master cylinder. There are so many nice touches like this on the Z1. Kawasaki tried to build the best motorcycle they could. The master cylinder was in good shape. These things are a bear to reassemble but after five tries I managed to get the plunger in the bore along with the c-shaped travel stopper and the snap ring. The only complaint I have against the Z1 Enterprises master cylinder kit is that it didn’t come with the rubber bellows (the part that keeps brake fluid from sloshing in the reservoir) so I’ll have to order that bit.

The metal brake line to the caliper was stuck mightily. I tried heat and penetrating oil and even bought a set of metric line wrenches but in the end it took a vise and brute force to remove the line. It’s not destroyed but I’ll be buying a new metal line along with both flexible hoses and the little bracket that holds the line away from the front fender.

Once apart, the caliper was in excellent condition. I sanded the bore to remove corrosion and the Z1 Enterprises rebuild kit had everything I needed to reassemble what I hope is a good slave cylinder.

The previous owner had the rear axle assembled wrong and my book was illustrated with the spacers reversed so a quick message to Skip Duke and I had the spacer order correct.

The sprocket side gets only the seal spacer while the drum brake side gets the long, necked-down spacer. The thick washer-spacer (that was jammed into the drum brake side) is actually a washer. It spaces the castle nut the correct distance for the cotter pin or hitch pin hole.

The stock swing arm grease nipple would not accept my grease gun fitting resulting in grease all over the place. In this photo you can see the differences. Rather than get the correct tool I tapped the fitting for a standard nipple and screwed the mess together.

I’m not happy with the grease nipple set up although it did allow me to grease the swing arm. I’m going to remove the fitting and have another go at making it look better.

Zed’s rear end is coming along nicely. I think the 4.10X18 tire looks a little puny on the bike so you may get a Smokey burn out video after all. Next tire I get will be a 4.50X18.

I’m making a list for my next Z1 Enterprises order and this list should cover most everything I need to get the bike rideable. Those new bodywork sets they sell sure look nice and only $1300 for a tank, tail and side covers, all beautifully painted in stock striping. You can’t get your original stuff painted for $1300!


Want to see the rest of the Z1 resurrection?  Just click here!

Long Beach Vintage Motos

I grabbed just a few vintage motorcycle shots at the Long Beach show last weekend.  There were quite a few vintage bikes there, but there were also many other interesting things to photograph.  Here are just a few.

A Husky dirt bike. Very cool. Love the colors.
A Vincent in the MotoDoffo exhibit. The Doffo Winery has an impressive collection.
There were several Kawasaki two-stroke triples, all in pristine condition. Joe Gresh, eat your heart out!
A very classy BMW boxer, which the larger-capacity fuel tank. These are stunningly beautiful motorcycles.
I had to include this shot, even though it’s not vintage. It’s the new 650cc Royal Enfield twins. Royal Enfield has out-Triumphed Triumph. I can see one of these in my garage.

Like I said, there were many more vintage machines at Long Beach this year, and what I included here is just a small sample.  It was a grand show.

Okay, one more…of little old me reflected in one of the Royal Enfield fuel tanks.

A signature selfie in a 650cc RE tank.

The Long Beach Customs

We sure enjoyed our time at the Long Beach International Motorcycle Show, and I had a great time photographing the custom bikes.  The concept behind the motorcycle shows is that the manufacturers get to display their bikes, vendors get to display (and sell) their products, and in the midst of all, the aisles are peppered with custom bikes.  The audience gets to vote and someone gets a trophy, I guess.  I just like seeing the latest trends and the craftsmanship that goes into these customs.   Take a look.

A café racer early Honda CB750 Four.
Shades of Joe Gresh…an ultra-cool Kawasaki Four.
An early Triumph unit construction twin in Gulf Oil livery.
This one was very wild. It’s another Honda 750 Four with a Terminator-style, heavy-duty, industrial motif. Check out the air intake on the right.
This was a cool headlight nacelle on an Indian. Something different.

I think one of the great aspects of these shows is that the custom motorcycles suggest ideas for future customs.  They’re fun to see and fun to photograph.  All of these photos were shot with available light (no flash) with my Nikon D810 at ISO 1000 and the 24-120 Nikon lens.   There were many more customs than just the ones I’m showing here, but this blog is getting long enough already, and I have other things I want to share with you from the Long Beach International Motorcycle Show.  Stay tuned!

The Question: An RX4 or a KLR?

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.

My KLR in Guerrero Negro, with the only two dogs in Mexico that did not want a piece of me.
The RX4 in the San Gabriel Mountains. It’s a magnificent motorcycle

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.

Somewhere in Baja along the Transpeninsular Highway.

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.

The RX4 450cc fuel-injected engine. It has more horsepower but less torque than the KLR 650.

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).

I went a lot of places off road in Mexico. This is near El Marmol. I was with good buddy Baja John, who also rode a KLR.
Another KLR Baja boonies photo, near a Pacific coast shipwreck.

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.

World class fit and finish are what the RX4 is all about. The RX4 is way ahead of the KLR in this area. I think it is as good or better than any motorcycle made anywhere, by anyone.

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!

RX3 to RX4 Comparisons: Part 5

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.

The RX3 swingarm. Note how the end is formed to accept the rear axle mounting hardware.
The RX4 swingarm. It appears to be a much stronger unit. Note the machined part that mounts the rear axle (compare this to the bent metal piece on the RX3). Also note the robotic weld quality.

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 RX4 exhaust pipe. It goes under the engine.
The RX3 uses an upswept exhaust 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.

The RX4 radiator. It comes with the shield you see here.
Although they are hard to see in this photograph, the RX3 has two separate radiators. They are located behind the plastic grills.

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…

The left grip and controls on the 2015 RX3. The rocker switch you see on the right, just below the lever mounts, controls my spotlights. They are a one-off Colombian model, having been given to me by Enrique Vargas, General Manager of AKT Motos in Medellin.
The left hand grip and controls on the RX4. The grip design is a little different than my 2015 RX3 design, but the left-side controls are identical to the RX3. Note the bar-end weight. I was disappointed when I saw this; there is an unsightly gap between the bar-end weight and the grip. I’m guessing this will be corrected for the production RX4 when Zongshen reads this comment. Overall, the bike is great. This is the only thing I could find to bitch about. That’s a pretty good showing, I think.

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.

The RX3 right side grip and controls. This is on my 2015 RX3.

Here’s the same view of the RX4’s right side grip.

The RX4 right side grip and controls. Note the bar-end weight.

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.

The RX4 front wheel and tire. Note the aluminum rim, radial tires, and 19-inch front wheel.
The RX4 rear wheel. Note the larger rear tire, the aluminum rim, and the radial tire.

For comparison, here’s the wheel and tire on the front of my RX3.

The RX3 front wheel and tire. Steel rims, and non-radial tires.

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 dash on my RX3. I did not get the optional USB and 12V charging outlets.
The RX4 dash. Note the standard equipment accessory charging outlets.

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.

Don’t forget to consider signing up for our email updates list.  You can do that by entering your email address on the widget at the top right of this page (if you’re on a desktop) or at the bottom of this blog (if you’re using your smartphone to read this blog).   We’re having a contest to give a away a free copy of one of our motobooks in December if your name is on our email list.   And we won’t share you email address with anyone else.

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.

Dream Bike: Steen Alsport

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:


Would you like to see all of our Dream Bikes?  Click here and you will!