Hi T�n�r� riders!
Here is a small “adventure” report of my first trip on my then newly acquired T�n�r�. I bought it in December. I live in a small town in the middle of South Africa surrounded by farms, good dirt roads, bad dirt roads, good tar roads and not so good tar roads. My arrangement for the day was to ride to a nearby town to a bike shop and pick up some groceries as well- an easy 80km round trip to get accustomed to the Ten.

Here is the bike in North Africa by the PO

Here is the bike arriving at home after I bought it from him.






The first "trip" consisted of 20km good dirt road and 20km of good tar road. December-January-February is summer in SA and the rainy season. When I set off the sun was shining in my town but in the distance I could see rain clouds over the destination town. Although it was wet and rainy it was not cold at all. You could ride with a t-shirt and shorts. The ride to the town went smooth. The bike rolled along effortlessly When I got near the town the tar was soaked, with light rain but the E07’s were fine. Sadly, the bike shop was closed so I picked up the groceries and headed back. However, just outside of town is a dirt road that heads towards farms in the mountains and hills lining the Vaal river. So I decided to take a detour and head towards the rugged parts. My folks used to own a small, secluded plot between farms there and I haven’t been there in years so I decided to check it out again, plus see how the Ten behaves on dirt.

The first few kms went smooth, say for a few corrugated sections. No worries. But a short while later I came across mud patches. The rain had obviously moved over here. Not familiar with the higher\heavier T�n�r� (or anything about it) I rode tentatively over the first blobs. Not too bad. Then soon after another blob, and another. And another. It was all going fine until I got a FREAK! from the bike jerking to one side on the mud to the other, sliding out of any traction or control! I remember one particular section I thought ‘for sure this is it, luck’s out, Im going to fall now!’ as the bike plucked randomly side to side, leaving me behind with only my feet clinging to the footpegs to stay on. One’s adrenaline smashes through your veins in these situations (oh yeah, you know what I mean!). Hurting myself in a fall was not my biggest worry; hurting my ego was. I mean I had just gotten the bike and I didnt want to be the wuss who dropped his bike on his first trip, you know what I mean? Anyway, I adjusted my riding style a number of ways but settled on good ol’ slooooow riding. That helped somewhat. I managed to stay on but how I didnt fall off seven, eight, nine times is a mystery—(I think the bike’s heavier weight’s got something to do with it, when I “fell” off it stayed up straight each time as if too heavy to tip over—thanks Yamaha developers!).

I eventually (thankfully) got passed the mud sections with a pounding heart, and continued my journey. The road was getting more remote. Every now and then rocks and stones would pierce through the red ground like scales on a crocodile’s back. The Ten handled that easy but the mud was always not too far. I eventually reached my folks’ old house and took a breather and soaking up the view, peace and quiet—no telephones, no cellphone signals, no TV. Its a place where the braai smoke moves lazily up in the air in a straight line. Its a place where you can forget the busyness of life and get back in touch with yourself.










After reminiscing about the place and the good times I decided to roll on. The road was scattered with puddles of water, occasional mud patches and crocodiles, to go with the bends and twisty inclines and declines. Make now mistake my heart and mind was still fresh from the first mud slides and I was in no way at ease, though only handling it a bit better. Then I made a left and bam!.... A MASSIVE pool of red oxide rain water right in front of me. Ohhhh crap! Just learning the Ten’s nuances I was not at all ready for this hindrance. Mind you, I was also only wearing civvies and no riding gear. This part of the road was new to me and only my second time ever on it. The water lay across the road like a guard securing a threshold. There was no way through on a bike I didnt know on an isolated road I didnt know with the slipperiest approach ever. Who knows what is hidden under the surface of the water? I parked the bike and as soon as I set foot on the ground I started slipping and sliding. I decided that for me the best route would be to go around on the bank. I spent about 20 minutes finding a path around the 20m pool. I carefully made my way back to the bike, pushed it backwards with great trouble and kicked it into gear. I remember thinking “damn, this bike is heavy”. I proceeded to walk the bike up over the side bank and through the tall grass. This took about 30minutes of inch by inch pushing, hauling, calculating, controlling, steering and balancing through rain ruts, hidden rocks, fallen trees and water. With draining determination I eventually dropped back into the road. Guard defeated.

--Just a side note on the bike there. The whole time it did exactly what I wanted it to do, even to the centimeter. When I wanted gentle throttle, low torque, it went “yes, sir”, when I wanted a bit more throttle (to get over a rock), it went “done, sir”, when it wanted to get too excited it immediately behaved when I reigned it in with the slightest clutch pull, and when I wanted it to stop outright, it stopped dead, and waited obediently for my next orders. Total control. Thanks Yamaha developers!--


The picture (poor quality) does not do justice

After I rested and gathered myself I climbed back on and continued on. More rugged uphills, downhills, turns, and straights with crocs. Proper off road stuff. A good test for the E07’s and the Hyperpros. Then after a right turn another MASSIVE, this time LONGER pool of water. Oohhhh noooo! The sinking feeling! But this time there was optimism in me as by now I knew what was going down and had a ‘plan’. I pretended to learn quickly and this time parked the bike far from the slippery approach on solid ground. I searched for a path through the bank vegetation only to find big ruts and a tree blocking my way. Over to the left bank there seemed to be a meter gap between the farm fence and the tall grass. It felt firm and no stones, so I headed back and pushed the bike that way, only this time I hopped on and rode straight through pretty much unhindered for 60m (the bank was too high at places to drop back onto the road). It sounds quick but it too took about 20 min of scoping and plotting. BTW, the sun broke through the clouds at that point J......

The ride continued with more good scenery, hills and tranquility (even though I was never really at ease to take in too much of it). Fuel! My fuel gauge was now at one block left and not being familiar with the Ten’s fuel performance didnt know at all how far I could go. One eye on the unpredictable dirt road, one eye on the fuel. I was still about 50km from home on a challenging desolate dirt road I was not really familiar with. And who knows what still lies ahead?......... Enter the T�n�r�.

I gladly pressed on. Another lazy bend, another croc, another puddle, another incline. By now I was kind of getting the hang of the T�n�r�’s characteristics; the rear brake, the gearing, the acceleration, the handling, the height, the suspension. Nice. It was all coming together. Then I made a decline left and OOOOOOOHHHHHHH DEAR DOMINIC!! The mother (and father!) of all water pools (.......on this road anyway). Two massive pools of red water, 30-40m each, lying consecutively. The minotaur!?!?!? Words cannot describe the surreal sense of entrapment and defeat. I came all this way only to be cornered. I could just taste the crush of the insurmountable. For the first time I was out of plans. Not cool.






The Monster gave me 5 choices: 1) backtrack with one block of fuel left, redo all the earlier obstacles, and see how far you get 2) find a way around the water 3) go through the water, risk a fall and continue deeper into the unkown with one block of fuel left 4) find a dry spot and sleep the night (you have some groceries) the water may clear overnight, no real risk 5) search for a farm house with the hope that someone is there and has a bakkie to load your bike on or tow you, and all the trouble that goes with that. “But hurry because it’s getting dark.” What would you have done?!? The picture also shows that there was no way around the water this time. I tried to find a path down the right hand bank but got a dead-end 70% down the side and it would have been impossible to turn the bike around in the small space amongst the thorn trees. Talk about being stuck.

So, I eventually surrendered and through a process of elimination decided upon the one thing I didnt want to do; go through the water and risk a fall........ with one block of fuel left... with the sun setting. I took off my takkies and socks, rolled up my tracksuit pants knee high and climbed into the water. At least it wasn’t cold. It reached to just under knee height. I sauntered barefoot back through the water to where the bike was patiently waiting for my orders, feeling for logs, rocks and stones. The bottom was surprisingly firm with a thin layer of mud (the rain water was still washing away across the road). No rocks, just smallish stones and a rut here and there. I got to the bike with renewed energy and a clear plan that I could count on. I tied my shoes to the pinion bars, fired up the bike , slotted it into first, and walked it through the water. Ever so carefully the Ten and I helped each other through the mother pool (isnt there a soccer team with a name like that? there should be-- Motherpool). No problems, all’s well. Then we reached the “island” but didnt stop since we where on a roll. Onto the father pool. Light clutch, gentle throttle, push-walk, steer, survey, co-ordinate. The T�n�r� stayed dutifully by my side even though I could feel that the beast desperately wanted break free and boost over the mountains. ‘Bub-bub-bub-bub-bub’, the engine obeyed my every command. No stalls, no sliding, no funny noises, no nothing. The pool of water was actually quite friendly to us and let us through without any hassles, unlike an African border post. But I eventually got the bike through and pushed it a good 30m past the pool and away from the muddy wash. I was beat. I took rest as my legs where fire and a sigh of relief after almost getting stuck yet still managed to sneak out.




I didnt stay long there and decided to head on. Foreseeing that the rest of the way would be just as wet I decided to ride barefoot. No use in putting on, taking off wet shoes and socks. However, it soon got a bit painful especially on the up gears. There was no more pools or mud for the rest of the way and I luckily soon got to another more utilized dirt road and saw quickly that it is in infinitely better shape than the current one. I stopped and put on my soaking shoes and socks and marveled at the old abandoned house.





The rest of the road was a synch. After I joined the “main” dirt road there was only a few puddles of water. By now I have conquered many terrain and gotten used to the Ten that I was no longer scared of hitting the water. One after the other I hit the puddles the size of bathrooms (???) and the Ten just smashed it. Even had time to wave to a bakkie in the middle of a puddle. A few crocs here and there but soon it gave way to smooth dirt, and the mountains gave way to wide open spaces of fields of maize, cattle and sheep. The road was becoming more friendly and straight. Except for a few small mud blops, the dirt was compact and fast. A few times I had to stand while riding due to some uneven terrain and sand patches but all in all it was 90-100km\h all the way home. The bike’s suspension soaked up any bumps and it was very rarely necessary to slow down for anything. The beasty Ten was healthily, happily and strongly trundling along under me like a powerful workhorse, no task too big or small, figuring out how it could serve me better. I think he (yes, its a he, not a she) enjoyed the trip as much as I did.

The clear orange sun glob was setting fast over my right shoulder and it was as if it was saying “Im going now but I’ll give you a just few more minutes”. I got to a tar road and opened throttle to 140km\h just to get the frustration, relief, and victory out of both me and the Ten. I got home just after the sun turned blue and set behind the horizon and clouds. I parked the bike next to the hose and washed off all the evidence of mud and dirt. I wasn’t tired at all 9thanks to the suspension and gel in the seat) and could ride for another 300km easy. What was supposed to be an 80km round trip turned into a 150km unforeseen adventure. I needed to learn the bike's behavior and in no way could I have learnt that better in a shorter time. I am so much more comfortable on the bike that I feel much more secure and adventurous. Me and the T�n�r� definitely bonded. It was such a thrill, rush and challenge. And I, we, won! Thanks Yamaha developers!


This picture shows exactly why I bought the T�n�r�. Use your own caption\imagination.....




And to think I was just planning to get some groceries....

Great write-up! Thats what 'adventure biking' is all about.

__________________
If you can read this you're faster than you look...

Who would have thought going for a loaf of bread could be so much fun.
Good on ya' Cypress, nice to see the Ten being used for it's intended purpose.
Are you going to tick those Countries flag's off your pannier each time you visit them? Perhaps Spain for some oranges for your next shopping trip.

Interceptor, you said it! Im planning my first 1000km trip. Nothing too heavy though. Im still too precious with the bike. Maybe Lesotho.

Desert Racer
oranges in spain and milk in Sweden? Okay! But I would also like to ride the outback. Can one even ride there?