Let me start by addressing the elephant in the room and deal with the controversy surrounding knee braces. A few years ago, a reader commented on a Wish List post of mine that included some knee braces. I’m always happy to receive comments from readers and wasn’t even aware of any controversy. He pointed me toward Ryan Hughes, the leading spokesperson against braces, who argues that they restrict movement on the bike and lead to incorrect body position. There have also been anecdotal claims that braces have led some people to breaking their tibia or fibula.
On the other side of the argument is Adam Reimann. He admits that he’s tried and abandoned some pretty bad braces that were painful and obstructive, but he suggests to keep looking around to find some that fit you well, then you will not want to ride without them. It will be, he says, like “riding without your helmet.” He refers to a brace as like a second knee, a knee over your knee, that adds strength when you need it, whether in a twist, hyperextension, or hard knock.
I think this is one each rider has to decide for him or herself. For me, I’ve seen guys blow out their knees playing soccer, and I’ve seen (on video) a now friend severely damage his knee in a little tip-over. (Reimann comments that’s it’s often not the high speed accidents but the silly little slow-speed ones that cause the most damage.) These are very heavy bikes we’re taking off-road, and it doesn’t take much to tear a meniscus or AC ligament or worse. Since I’d like to keep my mobility well into my retirement, I decided to get some braces.
The problem was I never could find the $1000 or so to buy a pair. Then one day I had an idea, such a brilliant idea (if I may say so) I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of it before. (I get my best ideas upon waking, as if my mind has been mulling over a problem in sleep and decides to present me with the answer upon waking.) Maybe I could get a portion of the braces covered under my group insurance at work? I’d heard of people getting covered for a brace after an accident, but shouldn’t doctors and insurance companies logically cover preventative braces too? I looked into it and discovered they do! You need a doctor’s prescription, so off to the clinic I went.
The young doctor I got (this is Quebec healthcare—no one actually has a doctor) was not familiar with knee braces and I had to show her a photo of one on my phone and explain what I’d be using it for. After dutifully checking that my knees were indeed still fine, she thankfully wrote me the prescription but added, just to cover herself, “for preventative use” on it.
I mention all this because if you’ve been considering getting braces but the cost has been a deciding deterrent, check your insurance policy. Ideally, medicine should be preventative, just like bike maintenance. Just make sure the braces you get are medically certified because some are not.
With 80% covered, I decided to go “top of the line,” as my parents used to say. That’s the Pod K8 2.0 braces with the forged carbon frame. Pod also make the K4, which is also medically certified but slightly heavier with an “impact modified composite frame.”
The design genius of the Pod braces is the synthetic ligament that simulates the AC ligament that is so vulnerable. Unlike traditional knee pads, the brace’s frame prevents torsional movement and hyperextension, but the synthetic ligament does not hinder bending. I’m no orthopedic surgeon or industrial designer so won’t go into the weeds of how the brace is designed or works, but I can speak to the fitment and comfort of the Pods.
As with all motorcycle gear, fitment is crucial. That starts with getting the right size brace, with the width or circumference of your knee the crucial element. (The sizing chart has both measurements. Just be sure to measure while standing, i.e. load-bearing.) Like a helmet, the brace should be snug but not tight, and the Pods come with various pads and spacers that fit inside the knee cup to get the perfect fit. If you are between sizes, they suggest going up a size.
There are two crucial elements of putting on the brace. First, make sure the hinge of the brace is next to the hinge of your knee. Doh! That seems obvious, but many people fit them too low. To ensure correct placement, put them on with a bent knee. Then they should naturally fall to the right place on your leg. The straps are numbered and the other crucial element is to fit the first strap above your calf muscle and ensure it’s tight. Doing so will prevent the brace from sliding down during the day.
The rest of the straps are straightforward, working outward from the knee. Initially I made the outermost straps too tight and they dug into my flesh, leaving a mark by the end of the day. I backed off on those and the brace is now more comfortable.
Yeah, when I first put them on I felt like Robocop, but I soon got used to them. I did a couple of rides at the end of last season—four days in Vermont and The Timber Trail in Ontario—and wore them all day every day without discomfort. Okay, they are like your adventure boots: you’re happy to get them off at the end of the day but don’t mind them during. I bought a pair of the Pod KX knee sleeves to go under the braces and would recommend something similar. They provide just a little more protection to your skin, and folding the ends over the brace top and bottom ensures nothing gets snagged on the inside lining of your pants.
On the bike, I did not find the Pods obstructed my movement. However, I’m not racing and doing berms or pulling any Pol Tarrés moves. What I am doing is squeezing the bike with my knees, and especially pressing the inside of my knee into the bike to stabilize it around corners, and the Pods didn’t dig into the inside of my knee; they have rubber pads that fix into the knee cup with velcro to prevent that. There isn’t much flesh on these knees and the Pods with the knee sleeves didn’t irritate any bones or skin.
The knee is such an important yet complicated and vulnerable body part. Why not invest in doing everything you can to protect them? Overall, I’m very satisfied with the Pod K8 knee braces. I haven’t had the bike come down on one yet, but I now ride off-road with the peace of mind of knowing that if it does, my knees are protected, certainly better than in a knee pad or with traditional knee armour.
Disagree? Go ahead: the comments section is open below, and like in my classrooms, I encourage diversity of ideas.
Maybe second only to Gaspé, the Saguenay fjord is the ride to do in Quebec. It’s therefore surprising that I’d never gotten around to riding it until this past fall. From Montreal, you need about four days for this tour. Marilyn and I went over our anniversary weekend in late September when the leaves were beginning to turn colour and it was the best time to visit.
It was getting a bit cold for camping, so we decided to leave the tent at home and get rooms at B&B’s, which in these parts are called gites. This trip would take us not only up the Saguenay fjord but also across the top of Lac Saint-Jean and through the beautiful Charlevoix region, known for its popularity with Quebec’s most famous painters. What Algonquin Park is to The Group of Seven, Charlevoix is to Clarence Gagnon, René Richard, Jean-Paul Lemieux, Marc-Aurèle Fortin, Bruno Côté and Claude Le Sauteur, among others. In fact, Charlevoix is so beautiful it was also visited by A. Y. Jackson and Arthur Lismer of The Group of Seven. When Marilyn first visited Quebec from Alberta in 2007, I knew where to take her. (I’m still wondering if she fell in love with me or La Belle Province first.)
The only issue with Saguenay as a destination from Montreal is that you have about 3 1/2 hours of gross highway riding to do before it starts to get interesting around Beaupré, just east of Quebec City. And to make matters worse, within the first 10 minutes of hitting the highway, I knew I had the wrong windscreen on. I have a touring screen and a standard screen, and I’d been experimenting with different set-ups (they are both adjustable) prior to leaving, looking for a solution to the wind noise on the bike. I’ll be writing something about that elusive search for The Holy Grail in an upcoming post, but suffice to say here that the standard screen doesn’t work for touring. Marilyn and I couldn’t even hear each other in our comms because the wind noise at highway speed was so bad. Damn! I’d prepared the bike by changing the tires from a 50/50 (Anakee Wild) to a 70/30 (Shinko 705) but should have swapped the windscreen too.
There are several options for touring the Saguenay fjord. Many people head north on the 155 at Trois Rivière up through La Tuque all the way to Lac Saint-Jean and then down the Saguenay River on either the 170 (east side) or the 172 (west side). Others go all the way to Tadoussac, and either cross on the ferry and ride up the river on the 172 or don’t cross and ride up the 170. If you do that, you have a few options for how to come down: the 169 from Alma, the 175 from the town of Saguenay, or the 381 that cuts through the interior. Basically, all roads in this region lead to Lac Saint-Jean, and you have your option of no less than five to choose from on how to get there and back.
We had already driven up the 155 as far as La Tuque a few years ago when we camped at La Mauricie National Park so didn’t want to repeat that, even if it would be on the bike this time. We had a recommendation of an excellent B&B in L’Anse Saint-Jean on the 170 so decided to make that our destination for the first day. And I had a recommendation from someone at the Overland North gathering I attended in Calabogie to not miss the 381, which is smaller and twistier than the other roads. We also wanted to see Tadoussac, so connecting these dots meant riding part-way up the 170 on our first day, then doubling back the next morning to Tadoussac, riding the 172 up to Lac Saint-Jean, and taking the fun 381 back down. It wasn’t the most efficient route, but when does efficiency matter when you’re on a bike?
We blasted past Quebec City and didn’t stop until Sainte-Anne-de-Beaupré, where there is a famous cathedral. When the Pope recently visited Canada, he did a mass there, so if it’s suitable for the Pope, we figured it’s worthy of our presence as well. But we were on a tight schedule and it would have required a significant time commitment to go inside, so we opted instead just to make it a quick rest stop. (We’ve gone inside before and, trust me, it’s beautiful.) We still had a ways to go and had a dinner reservation at our inn in L’Anse Saint-Jean.
Our true sanctuary is nature and we were eager to get up into the hills of Charlevoix. Shortly after leaving Beaupré, Highway 138 begins to climb, and the geography suddenly takes on a completely different vibe. It’s hilly, pastoral, and there’s open road overlooking the St. Lawrence River with historic houses dotting the roadside.
The recommendation from our club captain was a good one! While I didn’t do those rides, my club has stayed a few times at La Fjordeliase and it’s become a favourite. After an exquisite dinner (the scallops are not to be missed), we went for a walk along the shoreline. L’Anse Saint-Jean is magical, and there was a full moon that night!
The next morning we hiked the trail behind our inn up to a lookout. It’s about a 2 km hike but all uphill with some steep sections. We were definitely feeling our age but happy we’re still able to do such a hike as the view at the top was worth the effort. (See banner photo above.)
Back at the inn, we took in the shoreline and the view of the fjord one last time, packed up the bike, and headed off, down the 170 toward the 138 again. We didn’t get far before we saw a sign for Petit-Saguenay and a small road heading toward the river. One of the disappointments, I must say, with the tour is the lack of access to the Saguenay River. The major roads are inland and you don’t actually see the river very much. (By contrast, the 155 mentioned above hugs the shore of the Shawinigan River all the way to La Tuque and is more scenic.) But rue du Quai, splitting off from the 170 at the town of Petit-Saguenay, provides a rare opportunity to get down to the river so we took it. I’d heard it’s a special spot, where the Saguenay and Petit-Sageunay rivers meet. Indeed, this inlet provides the longest unobstructed view upriver of the fjord, according to a placard on the wharf.
Looking upriver at Petit-Saguenay
Back on the 170, we were cruising and taking in the views, and I guess I wasn’t checking my mirrors very often because I was suddenly startled out of my saddle by a sport bike passing me at twice my speed. And another, and another, and on it went, a stream of maybe a dozen sport bikes out for their Saturday morning rip. I guess the police presence in these parts is pretty thin and there’s no track that I’m aware of so if you have a sport bike, these are the roads you use as a track. They were passing other vehicles on the two-lane road like there was no tomorrow, which there wouldn’t be for any who make a mistake. No wonder they have to pay $2000 a year to register their bikes here in Quebec compared to the “paltry” $800 I pay to register my adventure bike. Later we saw them gathered beside the road down at the 138 in Saint-Siméon, clearly taking a breather before turning around and doing it all over again.
We took the free short ferry and arrived in Tadoussac. I’d passed through Tadoussac a few times before but didn’t remember it being so touristy, which is not my cup of tea. You know you’re in a tourist town when you have to pay for parking, and we rode around quite a while looking for where to leave the bike while streams of tourists blindly criss-crossed the road in front of us. Finally, we found a spot in front of a microbrewery pub that was a little off the main street and had a terrace with a view of the gulf. Nice!
Our next stop after lunch was The Dunes. You will find them just east of Tadoussac. It’s an unexpected area of sandy hills overlooking the river. I wanted to play in the sand but the bike was fully loaded and undersprung, and I was feeling the weight the entire trip as the bike had a tendency to wallow at slow speed. (I changed the spring and serviced the shock once back in Montreal.) Marilyn was digging the place because you can see the different depths of the water from this vantage point, and she took a bunch of photos while I stayed with the bike. I would get my fun on the dirt road shortcut that lead us back to the 138 while Marilyn grumbled into the comms that we should have doubled back on the asphalt.
The Dunes, overlooking the St. Lawrence River just east of Tadoussac.
Soon we were heading north on the 172. It’s a fun road, and yeah, the cops are few and far between in this region, but I had speed control riding pillion so had to be good. Since we couldn’t hear each other very well in the comms due to the wind noise, Marilyn and I had developed a system whereby if she wanted me to slow down, she’d tap my left shoulder, and if she wanted me to stop, she’d tap my right. This form of backseat driving worked reasonably well, but unfortunately sometimes the D3O shoulder armour in my jacket worked a little better.
Marilyn had done a little research prior to leaving (somebody has to) and said there was a good rest stop at Sainte-Rose-du-Nord, a pretty little town that has a quay and offers a good view of the river. What L’Anse Saint-Jean provides on the west side of the Saguenay, Sainte-Rose-du-Nord does on the east—access to the river and a view of the fjord. We pulled in mid-afternoon in search of coffee.
Ste-Rose shorelineSte-Rose shops and diner
As many of you know, I’m not big on planning a tour before I go. I like the element of spontaneity and the ability to change plans on the fly. However, for this trip, since we were staying at B&B’s, I did take some time before leaving to find some sweet ones. We really, really, enjoyed all three of our gites on this tour. I love staying in an old historic house rather than a modern motel, and I love meeting the owner, finding out about the history of the building and the area, meeting other guests, practising my French, and enjoying the simple but tasteful breakfasts the hosts provide.
Our house in Alma, the Gite Almatoit, is home to a family and there were black and white photos of the house in winter and the kids playing in the garden. We were told that although the children must take a bus to school, snow days are (unfortunately for the kids) quite rare. After breakfast, I took a stroll around the property and learned from a sign on the lawn that the house was built in 1927 and is named La Maison Naud, after its original owner. Children of the Naud family lived in it until the early 2000s. It was the fall equinox, and our host had prepared this nice display on the front porch to celebrate the season. I’m too anti-social to be a B&B host, but I appreciate people who have decided to go into the hospitality business in order to make it work where they want to live. Maybe for them—I suspect for most—they enjoy the work so it’s a win-win.
The next day took us over the top of Lac Saint-Jean. We headed north on the 169 and pulled off at Pointe-Taillon “National” Park to see the beach and lake. I’m putting national in quotation marks because I’m not a Quebec nationalist and I disagree with Quebec’s nomenclature for its parks, which in any other province would be called provincial parks. You can’t have it both ways: receive billions of dollars in equalization payments from the rest of Canada and then call yourself an independent nation. Or maybe you can, if you are Quebec. As a Quebecer, I feel uncomfortable with this hypocrisy, especially when that nationalism is based on ethnicity, not language, which anyone who has lived here for any length of time will attest.
I’m thinking of Quebec politics now as I write this, and I was thinking of them then as we sat in a Tim Horton’s coffee shop in the heart of separatist Quebec, north of Lac Saint-Jean. It’s pretty much unilingual in these parts, so if you don’t know French, you’ll have to use the point and grunt method to order your donut. My French isn’t great but I can get by, but for all the talk of language in this province you’d think it was the most important issue facing Quebecers. It’s not. Just today I read that one of the major health service providers in the Montreal area has entered creditor protection. Marilyn and I are currently without a doctor, and I’ve been waiting for an MRI for months to diagnose a lump that I discovered last June on my collar bone. This is the state of healthcare in Quebec, and don’t even get me started on the state of education. (I’ve been a teacher since graduating in 1994.) It’s time that the Quebec government stop stoking the fires of nationalism and get its house in order by prioritizing issues like healthcare, education, infrastructure, and social services that have a direct impact on the quality of life for most Quebecers.
I’ve railed against Quebec politics elsewhere in this blog so won’t repeat myself, except to say that Marilyn and I will be leaving the province when I retire in a few years. We have mixed feelings about this because we’ve developed some very close friends here, but speaking for myself, I no longer want to pay another tax dollar to a government that sees me as a second class citizen because I’m not French (note that I didn’t say “speak French,” because I do, however poorly), that doesn’t hold and promote values I can be proud of, and that has its priorities mixed up. It’s time that Quebec as a nation either sh*ts or gets off the pot, to put it crudely. If it’s going to pass legislation that goes against the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms and can only be enacted by using the Notwithstanding Clause, it’s time to leave Canada and stop taking handouts. In 2025-26, Quebec will receive $29.3B in equalization payments, more than all the other provinces and territories combined. Vivre le Québec libre!
Parc national de la Pointe-Taillon on the shore of Lac Saint-Jean
Back at the Tim’s, I had that feeling I got once before, when my son and I stopped in a small town in northern Quebec for dinner after canoe camping. As I listened to the French conversations around me, I wondered what it would be like to be unilingual French, how narrow your window onto the world would be, and how your views and opinions would be shaped exclusively by French media. I understand the fear of losing your language and culture; as a Canadian, I face this everyday living beside The United States which threatens to devour the subtleties of Canadian English and our unique culture. But I’m convinced that forced monolingualism is not the answer for French Quebecers. And besides, as stated by famous Canadian lawyer Julius Grey in a recent talk at my college, no language that is taught in mandatory public education has ever disappeared. If freedom really is in the interest of the Quebec government, it should begin with linguistic freedom. Languages open doors to other cultures, other ideas, and broaden one’s horizons. I wouldn’t be living in Quebec for the past 34 years if I hadn’t done a summer immersion program in Quebec back in 1989 to develop my French. But as I write this, the Legault government is working to restrict access to education in English, leaving the vast majority of Quebecers linguistically and culturally isolated, not to mention vulnerable to media manipulation.
Blueberry fields north of Lac Saint-JeanRest stop at Chutes des Pères off the 169 in Dolbeau-Mistassini
We looped the lake and came back into the town of Saguenay, then picked up the 381 south, the preferred route for motorcyclists. It cuts through dense bush between mountain ranges, separating on the west the Laurentides Wildlife Reserve and on the east Parc national des Hautes-Gorges-de-la-Rivière-Malbaie. There was a lot of tapping on my left shoulder on that ride, all the way into Baie-Saint-Paul.
Baie-Saint-Paul at the foot of the 381
For our third and final night, we had a reservation at Auberge Les Sources in Pointe-au-Pic, just west of La Malbaie. I would say it was my favourite of the three, but they were all my favourite. The room itself was special with a lovely sunroom off of the main room where we could sit and listen to our little bluetooth speaker and journal and drink port. Yes port. Only we enjoyed it a little too much and somebody had to go fetch dinner. Thankfully, we were a stone’s throw from the Fairmont Le Manoir Richelieu which had take out St. Hubert chicken. It wasn’t the swankiest dinner of our trip, but it hit the spot under the circumstances.
After dinner, we decided to walk off the chicken by taking a stroll down to the hotel that overlooks the river. It really is a spectacular building, furnished exquisitely inside with original artwork (including a piece from one of Marilyn’s favourite painters, Michael Smith) and historical photographs and artifacts. The Fairmont hotels are a sort of relic from another era, and this one clearly is kept alive by the adjoining casino, accessible from the hotel by a tunnel. I’m rather morally ambivalent about gambling, but I guess in this instance I’m okay with other people spending their money this way if it’s going to prevent an historic building from being turned into condos. We peered through the glass doors into the carnival lights, bells, and glitter of gambling while a couple of bruisers stood guard outside, ensuring only hotel guests could lose their money.
Outside, fog had rolled in. We strolled along the boardwalk overlooking the river, and in the mysterious lighting of the outdoor lamps, with a foghorn sounding in the distance, you could easily imagine being another person 100 years ago.
Our final day would be more of the gross highway riding to get home, but before leaving our beloved Charlevoix, we indulged ourselves by stopping in at Saint-Joseph-de-la-Rive, a quaint village at the base of Les Éboulements, right on the river. The view as you descend is pretty good, and there’s an interesting little artisanal paper store there called Papeterie Saint Gilles, which still makes paper by hand, pressing petals of local wildflowers into the sheets.
The infamous descent from Les Éboulements.
This hill is so steep that several years ago a tour bus lost its brakes and crashed off the embankment. I spared Marilyn that story.
Our original plan was to cross on the ferry from here to Île-aux-Coudres and do a quick loop of the island I’d heard so much about. I’ll go to great lengths to find a good boulangerie. But it was off season and we figured a lot would be closed and we still had the return leg to Montreal to do, so we stayed on the mainland and strolled along another boardwalk, taking a last look at the rolling hills and tide flats of Charlevoix.
Saint-Joseph-de-la-Rive
Finally, it was time to climb reluctantly onto the bike and start heading home. The tour had been everything we’d hoped it would be. We weren’t able to do a holiday over the past summer, but this little excursion made up for it and cured our travel bug before the bike went into storage for the winter.
The Saguenay fjord has dramatic geography and the roads are windy and fun. Prices are reasonable and everyone we met was friendly and welcoming. Wherever I travel, whether in The United States, across Canada, or into the heart of pure laine Quebec, the people I meet rarely match assumptions based on what I’ve heard in the media. Perhaps that’s the best thing about travel: learning first-hand that people everywhere are essentially the same. I’m glad that I finally did this tour, if only to discover, with my own weak French, that the only thing separating English and French Canadians is language.
This Christmas I ask for only one thing: that my students stop cheating using AI. It gobbles up my time preparing for the meetings and zaps my morale when they deny it all the way through the appeal process.
Accordingly, I’ve begun this post with an AI-generated image. Whatever generator WordPress uses apparently doesn’t know what an adventure motorcycle is, just as ChatGPT doesn’t really know how to write an insightful analysis of a short story. In both cases—looking at the photo and the essay—it’s pretty obvious they’re fake. What is that square thing on Santa’s lap? Is it supposed to be a present, and if so, why is it on his lap when he’s got all that room on the . . . hay bale? And somebody needs to tell Santa that Sorels don’t provide much foot protection when he lowsides in the snow.
We live in a world where the real and the natural occupy an increasingly small part of our lives. That’s one of the things I love about adventure riding—its ability to help us get away from civilization and screens and the news (and students) and take in, as the saying goes, The Great Outdoors. This year my wish list does not contain mods and accessories for the bike but mostly camping gear. I want to downsize my gear and be more comfortable around camp.
Cookware
If you read my post on motocamping gear, you’ll know that I use an MSR Dragonfly stove and a Zebra 3L stainless steel Billy pot as my motocamping kitchen. This is the same gear I use canoe-camping, but now I’m ready to go even smaller. When I’m canoe-camping, it’s usually with my son and, uh, we’re in a canoe, where there’s lots of space, and weight is only an issue on the portages, but when I’m adventure touring, I’m usually on my own and less is more, so to speak. Space in the panniers is at a premium, and I feel every extra pound on the bike.
I came upon this little unit via Adam Riemann’s video on his gear. I’ll probably leave the cup and fold-out base at home, and I’ll probably substitute the folding cutlery for real stuff. I’m not that minimalist. (While I’m trying to reduce weight, I won’t be cutting my toothbrush in half anytime soon.) This kit will cut down my cooking gear considerably.
It means switching from liquid fuel to butane, which I never thought I’d do. Liquid fuel has a lot going for it: no canisters to buy or dispose of, the ability to refill at any gas station, and as an emergency supply for the bike. But the Dragonfly is loud and slow. You can get a Dragon Tamer by BernieDawg, but at 82€, that’s almost the price of the stove, and it doesn’t seem to speed it up, just silence it. An 8 oz cylinder fits nicely inside the Odoland pot with room for the burner on top, so it’s very compact. I like Adam’s suggestion of wrapping the canister in a goggle bag to provide some padding. The entire kit is, incredibly, only $38 Canadian, so I hope at that price it isn’t, in the immortal words of my late mom, “cheap and nasty.” ADV touring is hard on gear, so it has to be tough.
Whether I take a separate frypan and plate remains to be decided. Maybe I’ll go hardcore and try to get by just with this.
Ditch the Tent and Mattress
Speaking of hardcore, I’m seriously thinking of switching to a hammock system for sleeping. I was talking to my brother-in-law about a canoe camp he did north of Lake Superior—5 nights using a hammock—and he swears by it now. He strung up a tarp overhead, just in case of rain.
This would allow me to leave behind my tent and mattress, which together weigh 7 lbs. More importantly, my tent doesn’t fit in a side bag, so I have to strap it on top lengthwise or across my tail rack in a duffle bag. I’d love, I say love, to be able to do without a duffle bag up high on the back. (BTW, I’m ditching the tank bag too.) With weight down low in the panniers and only a few small bags with tools and tubes up front, the bike would be a lean mean machine, helping me to do the kind of riding I want to do, especially now that the Tiger’s suspension’s been upgraded. It’s not quite a rackless system, but something resembling it.
I’ve slept in a hammock before and froze my butt off. Okay, it was at Yukon River Campground, so not the best place to try. One of the issues with hammock camping is that the down in your sleeping back gets compressed underneath you, and you don’t have the insulation of a mattress to keep you warm. You can get a hammock quilt and string that up underneath, but they are heavy and bulky, so you lose any savings gained in weight and space.
Yukon River Campground
My other concern is that there may not always be two trees to string the hammock. I’ve been at sites before where this was the case, and I’m imagining, say, being out at a campground on the Outer Banks— basically a sand bar on the eastern seaboard of North Carolina—where they’re aren’t any trees. Would I be able to sleep on the ground and string a tarp off the bike in case it rains? What about bugs? Night visits? Privacy? You don’t see any RTW riders using a hammock.
Well, there’s only one way to find out. After some initial research, the SunYear hammock is on my wish list.
The SunYear is made of parachute nylon, and if someone is trusting it from ten thousand feet, I’ll trust it from 2 or 3. As you can see, it comes complete with a bug net and a tarp. A nice feature is the triangular shape of the tarp for some privacy, not that I care.
But before I go investing in a new set-up that costs about the same as a new tent, I’ll try a shorter trip using my existing hammock and see how it works. Alternatively, I could just buy a separate bug net and tarp if that works out. And for stringing it, I’m thinking I’ll carry a couple of ratcheting straps for bike recovery (a lesson learned from my last trip to Vermont) and they will work just fine to anchor the hammock without damaging the trees.
What do you think? Am I crazy? Have you tried hammock camping? How did you find it? Great recent development in camping gear or latest fad? Leave a comment below.
Shelter
Without a tent, a reliable tarp is all the more essential for rainy days around camp. When Riley and I had rain in Vermont last August, we strung his tarp up over the picnic table and were happy.
I was so impressed with his tarp that I took a picture of the logo. I later looked it up online and nearly shit my pants. I didn’t know that a tarp can cost $260. I usually get mine from the dollar store. Okay, they smell of plastic off-gassing and are as loud as my Dragonfly stove, so I’m ready to upgrade. When it’s your home away from home, a reliable tarp is worth its weight in gold. A good one will also pack up small.
I haven’t decided on the size yet, but I’ll want something big enough to shelter from driving rain. The only question is: Aquaquest or cheap Chinese rip-off?
Two items that never made it off my wish list last year are a new helmet and shorty levers. I’ve had the same Arai Signet-Q since I started riding in 2015. Don’t tell the cops. You’re supposed to change it every 5 years by law. That means I really should either get a new one or move to New Hampshire.
Last year, I was looking at the Arai Tour-X5. Arai make arguably the safest helmets on the market, but as every Harley rider in a skid lid will tell you, safety is over-rated. More importantly, there’s fashion. But seriously, other factors include comfort, weight, ventilation, and a big one for me, wind noise.
The Arai Tour-X5. Sadly, still on The Wish List.
Recently I was intrigued by what Chris (Chap in a Cap) at MotoLegends was saying about flip helmets. He argues that modular helmets should be considered the true adventure helmet, and the only reason most ADV riders have a helmet with a peak is for fashion. “Get over yourself,” he says elsewhere.
One thing I didn’t know is that, according to Chris, a flip helmet is the quietest type of helmet, even quieter than a full face. I thought that the hinge system created some wind noise, but perhaps that was just the case with the early modular helmets. It’s not just the absence of the peak that makes it quiet but also because the neck opening is smaller. With a flip helmet, you naturally lift the chin bar to put it on, so the neck opening can be smaller and less wind enters the helmet from underneath.
I’m sold. I have to admit, I’m interested in the idea of having the quietest helmet possible. As some of my readers know, I’m completely deaf in one ear so have to protect what’s left of the other one, and even with earplugs, which I always wear, the wind noise can be loud on the highway with a bad helmet like my LS2 Pioneer.
Champion Helmets, who do the most comprehensive and reliable testing in the industry, in my opinion, put the HJC RPHA-91 not only as the quietest helmet on the market but also the best overall modular helmet of 2025. The Shoei Neotec 3 was a close second. Schuberth helmets don’t fit my intermediate oval noggin, and Arai, well, Michio Arai doesn’t believe in flip helmets. So I think either the HJC RPHA-91 or the Shoei Neotec 3 is in my future.
The HJC is about half the price of the Shoei, but honestly, for something as important as the helmet, it will probably come down to which has the best graphics.
Back to Levers
The other item that never made it off my 2023 Wish List are shorty levers. What I did instead was move the levers perch inward on the handlebar as per another of Reimann’s suggestions, so I was pulling with two fingers but on the end of the OEM levers. This seemed to be the best of both worlds: I could use two fingers but still had the leverage of a full-length lever.
The downside to this set-up, I discovered, is that the front brake master cylinder is part of the lever assembly, and now it’s so far in it’s slightly tipped because the bracket is on the slope of the handlebar. The mirrors are also part of the same unit, so their position is affected. I can see okay, but all things considered, maybe it’s just easier to get shorty levers.
Last year I had the Vortex levers on the wish list. This year, it’s ASV, but don’t be surprised if they, at over $400 a set, are on next year’s list too.
VortexASV
So if you didn’t think I’m crazy for giving up my tent, you probably do now. What can make someone pay that kind of money for levers, especially when you can get cheap Chinese ones on Amazon or eBay for $35? Probably the same thing that would compel someone to pay $260 for a tarp. It’s the quality of the product, and in this world, you usually get what you pay for, despite proclamations of cheapos to the contrary.
Aside from being unbreakable with an unconditional 5-year crash damage guarantee, the ASV levers apparently have excellent feel, if you believe comments on forums. That’s a result of the pivot that has precision-sealed bearings, the only lever on the market for my bike with a bearing pivot. ASV also have a micro-indexing adjuster with 180 increments, so you can literally dial in each lever to your exact preference. The C-series have a matte finish and cost a little more than the polished finish of the F-series.
I really don’t know if I’ll get these, but it’s nice to dream. Isn’t that the purpose of a wish list?
One More Thing
“Oh yeah, one more thing.” That’s what Steve Jobs used to say to introduce the most exciting new Apple product at the very end of his keynotes. I’d love to get a new jacket, one made for cold weather. I’d love to get a Rukka jacket, any Rukka jacket, but preferably one with a down-filled liner. I’m tired of freezing on early- and late-season rides.
My warmest jacket is the one I bought off eBay for $55 US when I started riding. It’s a Joe Rocket with textile front and back and leather arms and shoulders. It’s my warmest jacket because it has a quilted liner. My other two jackets are hot weather: the Klim Marrakesh, which is mesh, and the Traverse, which is a Gore-Tex liner.
Again, the option here is premium or budget-friendly. I’ve been hearing a lot about the MSR Xplorer jacket from Rocky Mountain ADV and it might work with some good heated gear inside.
Rukka Rimo-R for $1000or MSR Xplorer for half the price?
One of the most viewed posts on this blog is the one on how to make your own heated jacket for under $50, and it’s a good option for commuting. However, the cheap Chinese controller is fragile and doesn’t hold up to the demands of adventure riding. I’ve already broken and fixed it a few times. The other thing I don’t like about the jacket is that it’s a rather thick, puffy jacket, that doesn’t pack well, so it’s either the homemade heated jacket or a wool sweater, but not both, and for around the fire, I’ll take wool any day.
My friend Riley of The Awesome Players posted a video of a late-season ride he did on which he was wearing a Warm and Safe Heated Jacket. He later texted me that he also has the baselayer, and so I looked into it.
Warm and Safe Heat Layer Shirt
I like the idea of a base layer. It just makes sense to have the heat next to your skin instead of having to penetrate layers of thermal clothing first. Other people like the flexibility of having a light heated layer that you can easily remove if it warms up.
The company has over 25 years of experience and R&D. Each product connects to a heat troller that controls the heat. Instead of just three settings like with the controller on the Chinese-made pads, the W&S troller has a dial, so there’s a lot more variability. Okay, Warm and Safe don’t win the award for the most imaginative naming, but some of their gear also make it onto The List.
Conclusion
Well that list ended up being longer than I anticipated. As the instructor of my motorcycle course said first night, “This sport is harder on your wallet than an ex-wife.” Thankfully, my marriage is still strong, although would be considerably weaker if Santa fulfilled all my wishes.
And as I usually do at the end of these fun Christmas-themed blogs, I have mixed feelings about being so materialistic when wars are continuing in other parts of the world and some people lack heat, food, shelter—the basic materials of life. I don’t feel I can do much or anything about that, but I can help those closer at home in need. This year, Marilyn and I have decided to give a significant donation to a food bank. It will be a drop in the bucket, but it will be our drop, and I hope it provides a little relief to someone in greater need than me. With inflation and current food prices, the need is greater than ever.
The Wish List posts come at the perfect time of year, just after the bike is pulled off the road for four months by law here in Quebec. They help me though the transition to no riding by thinking of the rides being planned for next season and the gear that will make them all the more enjoyable. I’m still planning to do the tour that has been postponed now for two seasons—down the Blue Ridge Parkway into West Virginia, maybe over to the The Outer Banks, and back up via the MABDR and NEBDR.
What are your plans for next season? Drop a comment below and don’t feel they have to be anything as ambitious as mine. I’m always interested in hearing from my readers.
Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah to all my readers, and safe riding in 2025.
Spend a little time and money to adjust your suspension and it will transform your ride.
In a recent interview on Adventure Rider Radio, Chris Birch talks about spring rate and preload not as factors of sag but balance. The standard thinking about sag is that it’s to keep the tire in contact with the road through potholes and over bumps, but Chris says he thinks about the preload adjuster as what keeps the bike in neutral balance front to back. Too much sag and you’re going to be light in the front and risk washing out in corners; too little sag and you will be nose-heavy and at risk of losing the rear in corners or tucking the front in sand or mud. He said when you get the bike balanced right, it’s an “aha” moment and it just feels easy to ride and right.
There are lots of videos available on YouTube on how to measure sag so I won’t go into that here. What I will say is that most adventure bikes come off the production line set up for street riding. I could be cynical and say that’s to have a comfy test ride and sell bikes, but the truth is that most adventure bikes don’t see much dirt. My Tiger 800XC was the same. The stock spring gave the bike a static sag of 18% (10% is the target) and I was well below recommended rider sag (30%) when loaded, even with preload fully wound.
I recently worked with Stadium Suspensions here in Quebec to correct this. We had tried a 13.2 kg/mm spring on the shock a few summers ago when Marilyn and I went to Newfoundland and were fully loaded with the hard cases. It got us the correct sag but was a little tough on our butts. So more recently Stadium swapped it for a 12.5 with an extra 4mm preload collar and it’s the Goldilocks set-up for me. It puts the static sag at a perfect 10% and rider at 37% but without any hydraulic preload, so I’m definitely within range.
A tie-rod boot helps keep dirt and water out of the preload chamber.
Another reason the bike was sitting low is that the preload wasn’t working very well. Over the years, dirt and water had gotten behind the black plastic collar on the chamber. The components inside had become corroded and had started to seize. Stadium tore it down and cleaned everything up, including machining the housing. The technician suggested I try protecting the now exposed seal with a tie-rod boot, so I ordered a variety pack off Amazon and luckily there was one that fit perfectly. For the Tiger’s Showa shock, you need a boot with ID 11mm top and 37mm bottom, but the latter can be stretched if needed. I put a little waterproof grease across the face of the seal inside and on the lips of the boot and used a zip tie to hold everything in place.
Since I’d stiffened up the rear, I thought I should stiffen up the front too, which was a little prone to fork dive. The OEM springs are .49 kg/mm so we went with .6 kg/mm. If you do the math (do you remember how to cross-multiply fractions to calculate x?), that’s about the same ratio as what we did at the rear. With everything back together, as soon as I pulled the bike off the centre stand, I noticed it was sitting higher. I haven’t had the chance in the late season to try the new suspension on dirt yet, but from commuting on Montreal’s notorious roads, I can tell it’s a big improvement. I had an “aha” moment.
The Tiger’s suspension doesn’t have a lot of adjustment, but there are still ways to customize. I rode both the GS and the Tiger for years before doing anything with the rebound adjustment. (On most shocks, that’s the screw at the bottom of the shock.) Thierry at Stadium said I’d probably have to slow the rebound down with a stiffer spring on now, so I took the time to watch Dave Moss’s tutorial on how to do this. It’s so easy I feel stupid for not doing it earlier. You simply push down on the tail of the bike and watch to see if it bounces upon release. You want the softest setting without even the slightest bounce; it should return to rest in only one stroke. When I did this and dialled in the rebound damping, I felt a noticeable improvement in how the bike tracks over bumps and potholes. Try it.
The forks on the Tiger don’t have any adjustment, but again, suspension guru Dave Moss says the oil height specified in your service manual is only a starting point for the average rider. If you are a light rider like me (145-150 lbs, depending on if I’ve had breakfast) or a less aggressive rider (like me), you could try a larger number. (Remember, a larger number means less oil since you are measuring from the top of the tube to the oil level.) If you are heavier than average or a more aggressive rider, use more oil and a smaller number. Just note the caveat from Dave in the video linked above about hydrolock, so test that you can bottom the fork before putting it back in the bike. And of course there’s always the option of trying different weight oils and different brands of the same weight since there’s no standardization of weight for fork oil. There are charts online showing the different viscosities of brands.
As a final thought, I’ll just add that before you go playing around with your suspension settings—and I’m suggesting you do—make a note of where everything is now so you can always return to your current set-up if necessary. There are many elements to suspension and you can get lost in the combinations, so change one thing at a time and test ride the bike on a familiar piece of road or trail before changing something else. Setting up your suspension takes a little time and patience, but when you get your bike dialled in, it will produce an “aha” moment and transform your ride.
Fully loaded and ready to ride to Newfoundland. (July 1, 2023)
Spirited on road, capable off road, the Tiger 800XC is a great all-round middle-weight bike.
My review of the 650GS has been the most viewed page on this blog for years, so I thought I’d write one on the Tiger, which I’ve had now for three full seasons and over 45,000K. These are both old bikes, so I know most people reading the reviews already own the bike and want to see if they’ve made a mistake. You have not. Well, as always, it depends on the type of riding you do. But if you’re looking for a long-distance ADV touring bike, the Triumph Tiger 800XC is a good choice.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. As I did before, I’ll break down the review into components.
Engine
The heart of any bike is the engine and the Tiger’s is a gem. When I pulled into my driveway on the GS at the end of my 2021 cross-country trip, I knew I wanted a smoother bike. The big thumper got me to the Pacific Ocean and the Arctic Circle and back, but it wasn’t very comfortable, especially on those highway miles. When I test rode the Tiger, I knew I would buy it even before I was around the block; I couldn’t believe what I was feeling. This engine is SMOOOTH! I’d go as far as to say it’s the bike’s defining characteristic. This is the 800, so before Triumph moved to the T-plane crank and off-set firing order, so it’s about as smooth as a triple can be. If you’re coming from the nuts-numbing world of a big thumper, the inline triple with a 120 degree crank is a world apart and exactly what I was looking for.
Aside from being smooth, this engine has a ton of character. It has comparable torque to its rival, the BMW F800 GS (58 ft.lb @ 7850 rpm vs. 59 ft.lb @ 5750 respectively), but gets that torque much higher in the rev range. And it likes to rev! It spins up fast, so even pulling away from a stop light you find yourself pulled involuntarily into The Giggle Zone. Yet despite that high peak rpm, the torque on the Tiger is incredibly linear.
photo credit:// ADVMoto. 1st Gen Tiger 800 dyno results. Note the linear (flat) torque “curve” above 3000 rpm.
The gearbox is also smooth, both upshifting and downshifting. It’s so smooth, someone I swapped bikes with once asked if it has a slipper clutch. The high-revs, the smoothness of both engine and gearbox, combined with a wonderfully guttural exhaust note make the Tiger 800 a really fun bike to ride. It feels like Triumph has shoe-horned a sport bike engine into an adventure chassis, which I guess they have since the engine comes from the 660 Sport. I’m not afraid of the dirt but, to be honest, most of my adventure touring is on asphalt, and the Tiger makes crunching those miles enjoyable.
Where the engine does come up short is in slow-speed technical riding, a downside the T-plane crank of its successor, the Tiger 900, attempts to address. The 800 is happy when revved, but is prone to stalling at slow speed, especially in sticky mud or over obstacles—anything that requires careful clutch work in 1st gear. It has no tractor-factor, so if you like ATV and snowmobile trails, single-track and getting out into the woods, the Tiger is probably not for you. It can do it, but you have to keep the revs up and feather the clutch a lot, which can be tiring on your hand and the clutch.
Handling
The XC model I have has a 21″ front and a 17″ rear wheel—an unusual combination in the ADV world where an 18″ rear is the norm. Perhaps Triumph did that to compensate for the nose-heavy geometry of the big triple compared to a parallel twin. (It still has a stink bug stance.) They’ve also increased the rake on the front forks beyond the competitors’ to 23.9˚ (compare with 26˚ for the BMW 800). What this weird-ass geometry does is make the 21″ front wheel surprisingly easy to turn in yet planted through corners. For an ADV bike, the Tiger is surprisingly agile and confidence-inspiring through the twisties. That’s when it’s in its element, whether on asphalt, gravel, or dirt.
Lanark County Trail System on 70/30 tires.
The cost is a tendency for the front end to tuck in mud or sand, especially if you forget to steer with the pegs. My crash this past August was a direct result of that happening on a muddy downhill corner, although I think balance of the bike front to back was also a factor. (I was under sag.)
Front-end tuck on the Bailey-Hazen hero section.
The Tiger is also a little top heavy, despite its flat horseshoe-shaped gas tank. That’s probably a result of the tall and wide engine. (To get the 660cc Sport engine to 800, Triumph lengthened rather than widened the bore.) You don’t feel it once the bike is rolling, but again, it’s another characteristic that makes the Tiger a challenge off-roading at slow speed. What all this means is that if you want to ride hero sections on the Tiger, you’d better have skills.
Triumph says that the Tiger is for “light off-roading” and they don’t lie. The engine and balance of this bike are designed for 2nd gear and up. But the biggest indicator that this bike is not for serious off-roading is the placement of the spark plugs and air filter, both of which are under the tank. If you’re doing water crossings—and what serious off-roader isn’t—you’d better not swamp the bike or you’re going to be removing bodywork and lifting the tank trailside. Been there, done that. It’s not much fun. To lift the tank, you need first to remove the beak, radiator side panels, indicator panels, and trim. I’ve done this perhaps a dozen times now and have the whole process down to about 20 minutes. Needless to say, for an ADV bike, this is a major design flaw, or at least a serious limitation.
Suspension
The Showa suspension on the XC is a step up from the XR version. Rear travel is 215mm and front is 240mm. That’s more than what I’ll need because I’m not blasting down rocky trails as much as trying to thread my way through them. (The 650GS, for comparison, has 165mm rear and 170 front.) With the Outback Motortek skidplate, ground clearance on mine is about 9 1/4″ or 235mm. The shock has hydraulic preload and rebound adjustment. The forks are a beefy 45mm but with no adjustment. That’s a fairly basic system, but again, sufficient for ADV touring.
Like most ADV bikes off the production line, the Tiger 800 is set up for road use. The suspension is soft and cushy, making a plush ride around town (and during test rides, I should add). But if you want to use this bike for how it’s intended—ADV touring (the XC stands for cross country)—you’re going to have to stiffen the suspension.
The OEM shock has a spring rate of 9.7 kg/mm which, surprisingly, gives me a static sag of 18% (40mm). This means that under its own weight on the OEM spring, the bike is under sag. Rider sag for me is 35%, even with preload fully wound. (Note to newbies: static sag is unloaded with no rider and should be 10%; rider sag is loaded with rider and should be 30%.) At 150 lbs (177 in all my gear), I’m not a big guy, and with about 66 lbs of luggage (56 on the back, 10 on the front), I don’t think I’m overloaded, although I’ll be working over the off season to reduce that weight. Nevertheless, it’s clear to me that the OEM spring on the shock is too soft for anything but solo street riding.
I recently upgraded the suspension and will publish a separate post on that topic, so click Follow if you’re interested in what I’ve done.
Ergonomics and Comfort
The ergonomics on the Tiger are generally comfortable whether you are seated or standing. The wide handlebars are what you’d expect and want on a bike designed for the dirt, yet they don’t feel like ape-hangers when seated either. I haven’t added any bar risers because the bar mounts are already high, and when I stand the bars fall to the right place when I’m in the correct body position with hips slightly bent. (Most people who add risers are seeking comfort while standing erect.)
One unusual feature of the bike’s ergos is the distinct sensation of the fuel tank between your, uh, thighs. It was something I immediately noticed on that brief test ride and something others have commented on when we’ve swapped bikes. The tank is wide, and it forces your knees apart. (No bad jokes here). I find it actually reminds me to squeeze the bike, which is good practice whether riding on and especially off road.
The seat is generally comfortable for long days, although when touring I add a sheepskin pad to improve comfort and airflow. Triumph sell a comfort seat for this bike but I haven’t needed it. Similarly, Marilyn hasn’t complained about the seat on the back. The 1st generation Tigers do not have a heated seat option but subsequent ones do.
My knees sometimes complain over long days but I’m pretty long-legged, so they are bent slightly more than 90˚. I put my Fastway pegs in the low position and the adjustable seat in the high position and this set-up has been pretty good. With the bike now sitting even higher, I’m anticipating improved comfort for my ageing knees. In the raised position, seat height is 34.5″ or 885mm, which is comparable to its BMW competitor.
My biggest complaint about comfort is in the area of wind management. I’ll be doing a separate post on my search for a solution, but let me say here that the OEM windscreens for the Tiger suck! The stock screen is notorious, and the touring screen is little better. Maybe it’s too much to ask of a screen to allow airflow at slow speed when off-roading and a quiet ride at speed on the highway. The best solution I’ve found is the touring screen with a cheap clip-on wind deflector, which helps with the wind but ruins both the lines of the bike and video footage from my chin-mounted camera. Oh well.
Aesthetics
Canadian poet Robert Bringhurst has a collection titled The Beauty of the Weapons and I think the Tiger is a beautiful weapon, especially the all black model. I get a lot of compliments on the bike, even from other riders. You can see in the neoclassic bikes like the new Bonnevilles that Triumph pays a lot of attention to how a bike looks, and they’ve done a great job with the Tiger. Okay, you may say they’ve copied their competitor with the beak, but I think a bike without one looks weird. There are a lot of complimentary parallel angular lines on the bike that thankfully Outback Motortek has followed. Aesthetics is something not everyone is into, but I want a bike that makes me turn around and look at it as I walk away in the parking lot, and the Tiger does that.
Reliability
There are a few known issues with this bike, not surprising given that it’s a first generation model. The shifting mechanism is known to fail, and mine did, but not in the expected way of the return spring or the pin for the return spring breaking. No, it was the selector arm that failed at about 45,000K, so while I was in there behind the clutch, I decided to replace not only the selector arm but also the problematic spindle, the return spring, and the detent wheel, all of which have been redesigned. You can read about that work here. The bike also let me down once in the bush during a water crossing when somehow about 3-4L of water got in the tank. I still think the only viable theory is that water got sucked up through the tank breather tube and I’ve since redesigned the tube to avoid this happening again.
I cut the breather tube behind the airboxand added a T-joint and short length of hose
The other known issue with this bike is the starter motor. There are many accounts of it failing to restart the bike when the engine is hot. It was fine for me the first two years but then started to act up and got progressively worse. I’ll be doing a separate blog post on that too, but I’ll let the cat out of the bag here and say the problem was, at least in part, a dirty main ground on top of the engine block that was causing a voltage drop. If you have the dreaded starter motor issue on your Tiger, clean the main ground and contacts on the starter relay before changing the starter or battery.
That’s it. Clutch, stator, voltage rectifier, water pump, oil pump—all good—and no issues with any of the electronics. That’s not bad, in my opinion, for a bike with over 60,000K on it.
I adjusted the exhaust valves at 45,000K; the intakes were perfect but all the exhausts were tight. There are some reports of the engines, particularly on the 2nd gen Tigers, to start burning significant oil at about that mileage, but thankfully that has not been the case with mine. It burns a little oil now, particularly at high-revs on the highway, but nothing significant. I’ll come back from a tour of a few thousand kilometers and top up maybe 200mL. I’ve been using Castrol Power 1 4T and, more recently, Motul 7100, but when I mentioned my oil consumption to my dealer, he said they put Motul 300V in all the “high-revving bikes.” I thought it was only for racing bikes, but henceforth that’s what will be going in this bike.
I like that the 2011-14 Tigers are still relatively simple and easy to service on my own. There’s no ride-by-wire and rider modes or complicated electronics that require a computer to diagnose and repair, although I wish turning off ABS were easier than navigating menus. The 1st Gen Tigers that ran 2011-14 are at the tail end of an era before things got pretty complicated electronically. Build quality and fit-and-finish are excellent, and the bike is looking as good as new with no rust or corrosion on it anywhere, despite its age.
Summary
Pros
Fun, spirited engine
Smooth gearbox
Agile and planted through corners
Comfortable seat and ergonomics
Good looks
Aside from a few early-model issues, generally reliable
Relatively easy to service
Cons
No tractor-factor; stalls easily in 1st gear
A little top heavy
A tendency for the front end to tuck in low-traction terrain
Poor wind management
Shifting mechanism weak
Some reports of starter issues with OEM starter
Plugs and airbox under the tank
Vulnerability in water if the tank is rapidly cooled
Looking at the length of those two lists, you’d think I’m not happy with the bike, but I am. That’s because the main elements of the bike are good—the engine, the handling, the reliability. The bike has a few issues, like any bike, but they are overshadowed but just how much fun it is to ride, and isn’t that the main thing we want in a bike?
Conclusion
When I participated in La Classique Moto Fest here in Quebec a few years ago, I saw my bike in a long line of other bikes there for the rally. Maybe it was my subjective perspective, but it seemed slightly out of place. It occurred to me that most of the bikes there were set up for off-road riding whereas the Tiger, at least my Tiger, is more an adventure bike, and I was reminded of a comment made years ago on the ARR Raw podcast about this distinction. (I’ll link to the podcast but can’t remember the specific episode.) They were talking about tire choice, if I remember correctly, and one of the guests made the distinction between what they do as RTW riders and what weekend warriors do. He said he’d never attempt half the stuff some guys do off road because, when you’re touring halfway around the world, you can’t afford to break something on your bike and wait weeks, perhaps longer, for parts to arrive. In other words, they ride more conservatively, and that was reflected in his tire choice. I’ll add that it’s also reflected in your bike choice.
Off-road versus adventure bikes. An arbitrary distinction?
As we all know, the adventure bike is the ultimate compromise. It has to be good on road and off road, capable of crunching out miles on the highway as well as getting you down a logging road. It has to be quiet and comfortable for long days in the saddle, powerful enough to climb mountains and carry camping gear, maybe a pillion, yet small and light enough to pick up on your own in the middle of so-called nowhere. It has to be reliable, and simple enough to fix yourself, trailside if necessary, if something does break. With these considerations in mind, the middleweight Triumph Tiger 800XC is a great all-rounder and an excellent choice as a long-distance ADV touring bike. It has its drawbacks, for sure, and may be master of none, but it’s the best Jack of all trades I’ve been able to find.
It wasn’t the tour I planned for the summer, but it was eventful.
photo credit: Riley Harlton
The initial plan for my big tour of 2024 was to ride The Blueridge Parkway down to West Virginia and then come back on the MABDR and NEBDR. It would have taken me probably close to a month. But then those plans got kiboshed by unforeseen circumstances and for a while there it seemed I wouldn’t get away at all. In the end, I managed to spend four days in August touring Vermont with Riley and Marc from The Awesome Players Off-Road MC doing Sections 4 & 5 of the NEBDR.
We decided to do a spoke-and-hub type trip, using Silver Lake State Park in Barnard, VT, as our home base. This meant not only that we didn’t have to move camp each day but also that we could ride for a few days without luggage. I’ve stayed at that campground several times and it never disappoints. The general store in Barnard has gas and makes a great breakfast sandwich.
We decided to ride Bailey-Hazen down. B-H is an old military road dating back to the war of independence (1776). It’s primarily dirt and gravel and runs from Montgomery Centre down through Lowell, Albany, Craftsbury, Greensboro, Walden, Peacham, and into East Ryegate. I’ve ridden it a few times but never the hero section. In fact, the last time I rode B-H, I attempted the hero section and had to turn around. It’s basically an ATV trail filled with babyheads, and I was alone and on street tires. It’s definitely a challenge.
So I was thinking of that section as we rode down toward the border and thinking of it some more as we approached Montgomery Centre. (The hero section is early in the track.) This time I had Michelin Anakee Wild tires on and there were three of us, but I was fully loaded with all the camping gear. Riley and Marc have a lot more off-road experience than me and the last time I rode with them it didn’t go well. You never want to be the guy holding everybody up.
We headed up the nasty little hill climb and I got loose a few times but kept it upright. Riley said later that he was thinking I must be happy not to be on the Beemer and I was. The Tiger is definitely more capable with the 21″ front wheel. There was a crew working on the trail and soon we hit some deep gravel they were spreading and that was interesting. But somehow I made it to the top without dropping the bike and felt pretty good about that. Unfortunately, things were about to take a turn for the worse.
For those unfamiliar with Awesome Players lingo, a douche rope is a fabricated rope with a steel karabiner on one end and loops along its length for handles. It’s used to pull out the douche who is stuck in mud or, in my case, whose bike is down a ravine. I don’t know why I was going so fast, except I guess because adrenaline was pumping through me and maybe I was over-confident, having just done the tough part. I think I also relaxed my concentration. You can see my front tire slip out on the muddy downhill corner which threw my balance, and then I was struggling to keep the bike on the trail. Riley thinks I hit a false neutral because you can hear the bike rev a few times but I think I just panicked. Fortunately, what I lack in riding skills I make up for in tree avoidance technique. When I saw it coming up fast, the bike went one way and I the other.
I’m breathing hard into my helmet because I was in some pain and thought at first I might have pulled an Itchy Boots and broken my collar bone. But in the end, it was just a separated shoulder and, a month later, I’m almost fully recovered. The tendons have healed and I’m just working on strengthening and stretching the scar tissue. It could have been much worse. If the bike had hit the tree, I imagine there would have been structural damage and it would have been a write off. In the end, it just made for a few uncomfortable days around camp and especially trying to sleep in my tiny tent.
I was pretty mad at myself, as you can hear. It was an auspicious start to the tour and I was living up to my reputation. But here’s the thing I’ve come to realize after reflecting on the crash over the past month: crashing is not only an inevitable part of off-roading but part of learning. In fact, Brett Tkacs lists dropping your bike as an indicator that you’re improving your riding skills, which at first seems counter-intuitive, but when you think about it, if you aren’t dropping your bike once in a while, you aren’t pushing beyond your limits where both sh*t and learning happens. I’m pretty familiar with riding on dirt and gravel roads but haven’t done much trail riding. By contrast, Riley and Marc have been doing trails for years, so I knew that riding with them would be a learning experience.
Their experience was essential to getting my bike back on the trail. They had the gear and know-how. Here’s Marc explaining the procedure.
video credit: Riley Harlton
Once the bike was taken care of, we had lunch and I took a bunch of meds for the pain. I wasn’t sure how it would go on the bike but it was surprisingly okay; the shoulder is relatively immobile while riding, and it was actually off the bike around camp that I felt the injury most.
When we headed off again, I decided to let Marc go first and went slower on the downhill.
That’s my windscreen rattling; I lost some hardware in the crash that I replaced at the next rest stop. Later, Riley lead and I followed his line.
Bailey-Hazen actually isn’t a technical road, aside from a few bits. This clip is more indicative of what most of it is like—hard-packed dirt lined by trees and periodically opening up to nice views of the surrounding hills. It’s a fun ride and appropriate for big bikes.
The next day we headed south on Section 4 of the NEBDR but not before the amazing breakfast sandwiches of the Barnard General Store. There we met Bethel, who was visiting from California and had rented a Ténéré 700 from MotoVermont. She was enamoured by the general stores and bucolic countryside of Vermont, and who wouldn’t be, especially if you live in Superslab City. (I might have this wrong, but I think she said she lives in Los Angeles.) We shared stories over breakfast of falling in mud puddles and down ravines. It’s always nice to meet fellow bikers; there’s definitely a bond between like-minded people enjoying the freedom and thrill of motorcycling. Unfortunately, she was heading north to return the bike in Burlington and we were heading south.
If you know anything about the NEBDR, you know that it’s one of the harder BDRs and that Sections 4 and 5 are the toughest sections, so we were expecting some challenging terrain. I was trying to figure out where the by-passes were because I’d already decided I would take them with my gimpy shoulder; I just couldn’t risk another fall. But to our surprise, the section was relatively tame, more of the same winding dirt and gravel roads. When we finally stopped for coffee and a pastry at Sweet Birch Coffee Roasters and Bakery in Wallingford and Marc got out his map—yes, his paperButler NEBDR map—we realized we had done all the bypasses. It seems that the most recent gpx tracks (March 2024) had the bypasses as the default and you had to load the harder sections separately if you wanted them. When I downloaded the tracks, there was much description of flood damage, so I suspect the organizers decided to steer riders away from those Class 4 roads for now. It worked out for me, but I think Marc was disappointed.
Despite that, Section 4 has some very nice riding. One of my favourite roads was the Forest Service Rd. 30.
Lower Podunk Road is also sweet, as is Hale Hollow.
Sorry about the bad angle of the action cam. If it’s not the wind deflector that obstructs the view, as was the case with my Newfoundland footage, it’s the bad angle unbeknownst to me. I’ll eventually get it right.
We ended up in Readsboro before high-tailing it back up to Barnard on asphalt, stopping en route for groceries and beer.
The next day we headed north on Section 5 and decided to split up so Riley and Marc could get their Class 4 fix. Unfortunately, while doing the harder section north of Stockbridge that follows the White River, Marc suffered the same fate as me. He said it was an easy section but he got target fixated on a rut and was thrown violently off the bike, separating his shoulder too! Now there were two of us gimpy. Even before his accident, he had decided that he was going to head home a day early because camping was not agreeing with him. That’s a polite way of saying he’s a wimp. No, seriously, some people are campers and some are not, and to his credit, he at least gave it a try. He said he enjoyed the campfire and time around camp, but I think he wasn’t sleeping well.
Even experienced riders periodically take a tumble. We’ll blame this one on sleep deprivation. photo credit: Riley Harlton
So after riding the exhilarating Lincoln Gap Road, we said our good-byes and Marc headed north on the 100 back to the border. It was already mid-afternoon and rain was in the forecast, so Riley and I decided to call it a day too. We picked up steaks and potatoes and, being the final night, some port. As we rode back to Barnard the rain started and never really stopped the entire evening, but we strung a tarp over the picnic table so all was well.
A tarp, woollen hat, Rugged Brown Ale, and bluetooth speaker. What more do you need? photo credit: Riley Harlton
For the ride home, we figured we’d ride the Puppy Dog Route, which passes through Barnard and goes right up to the border. I’ve ridden it a few times and it’s an easy dirt route, but I’d only ever done it when dry. After the heavy rain of the night before, it was greeasy! We were crawling along in 1st gear when I stopped and asked, “Do we really want to do this?” Riley agreed that it would take us forever, so after a few miles of that we hit asphalt and stayed on it, but the drama was not over yet.
As we rode toward the border, the rain got heavier and heavier. When we crossed the border, it became torrential, and as we came over the Mercier Bridge it was apparent that there was major flooding, including on the main highway. Traffic had come to a standstill, so we had to find another way home and that included some deep water.
154 mm of rain fell on Montreal on Aug. 9, shattering all records.
When I got in, Marilyn was none too pleased. She’d texted early in the day that we should just come straight home, but I didn’t know why since the rain wasn’t that bad in Vermont. Little did we know that Montreal was in the midst of more extreme weather and that many people were either stranded or had basement flooding. Apparently 80% of the basements in Dorval, the city next to where I live, were flooded.
A pretty hard crash, two, in fact, some challenging riding, extreme weather—this ride had it all and was the true adventure I needed before heading back to the doldrums of work. It also gave me a taste of the NEBDR and how difficult, maybe foolish, my original plan would have been to ride the entire thing alone, fully loaded, including the Class 4 roads “as a challenge.” The riding on the NEBDR is enjoyable and as challenging as you want it to be. We’ll see how I feel next summer but at the moment I’m feeling like I can skip the Class 4s if I’m alone.
The best part of this ride actually wasn’t part of the route at all but reconnecting with The Awesome Players. When I tried riding with them before, I just couldn’t keep up on the big GS when they were on smaller bikes. Now that I have the Tiger, I’m willing to try again. It’s the kind of riding I’ve wanted to do for some time but most of the riders I know don’t do dirt. I know I’ll be a little out of my comfort zone but in a good way, and there isn’t a better bunch of supportive, fun guys to ride with than them. You only have to watch a few of their videos to see what I mean.
But that will be probably next season, to be honest. Next week is the Ride for Dad to raise funds for prostate cancer research. It’s a great cause, and you can contribute to my team’s campaign here. Anything helps and is greatly appreciated.
After that, Marilyn and I are riding the Saguenay Fjord, which neither of us has seen, and I’ll be changing tires and windscreen for that tour so I don’t know if I’ll be back on the dirt until spring. Look for an upcoming post on Saguenay/Lac Saint-Jean, and a few more rides through the glorious fall season here in Canada when the leaves turn colour. Who knows: maybe I’ll even make it down to Vermont again before the snow flies.
At Silver Lake State Park. Norden 901 Expedition, Tiger 800XC, and Yamaha T7.
A great long distance adventure touring tire with one major flaw.
When Dunlop decided to design a new ADV tire, they smartly asked adventure riders what they wanted. Of course, we all want a tire that does everything well—excellent street performance with no compromises off-road. That’s not physically possible, but Dunlop claims to have come pretty close with the Trailmax Mission, saying it offers “knobby-like performance” off-road and “great ride quality” and “impressive grip” on the road. I ran the tire for 20,000 kilometres and it was a very good tire on the road but had limitations off-road. Aside from these limitations, I would hesitate to buy it again because of one major drawback.
On Road
Dunlop claims that the Trailmax Mission is a 60/40 tire. I’m glad they revised those numbers, because when the tire was launched they were calling it a 50/50. I think it’s more like a 70/30. You can see at a glance that it’s designed primarily for the street, with a rounded profile and not blocks but deep grooves. That results in a very comfortable street ride with easy turn in and relatively little vibration coming up into the handlebars.
One specific request many ADV riders had was longevity; we’re simply tired of having to change our tires every 5-6K. The Trailmax Mission tires have a very hard compound and you can expect to get 20,000K out of a set. I put a set of these on at the beginning of last season and rode them out to Newfoundland and back 2-up fully loaded. After 20,000K, there was plenty of tread left in the front and some left in the rear.
Front: yes, that’s a US penny.Rear: Canadian Mint gave up the penny several years ago.
So apparently if you can see all of Lincoln’s head the tire is finished. The rear is pretty close to done, although I’m not quite down to the wear marks. The front has some life but wear is uneven (probably my fault with under-inflation). Despite that hardness, I never had any problems with the tire skidding in the rain, an issue some riders have reported with the Heidenau K60 Scout that has similar longevity.
So if you are going on a long tour that will be primarily asphalt, the Trailmax Mission would be a good choice.
Off Road
I used this tire in the Classique Plus ride on Class 2 roads. It handles well in hard-packed dirt, gravel, and even shallow sand. I also had it on my 650GS before I sold it for a final tour through the New England states that involved some fairly deep gravel, and I have to say, I was having an easier time than my riding buddies on Shinko 705s, a similar 70/30 tire. Yes, it slides out from time to time, but predictably, which actually makes it a fun tire to run on dirt and gravel if you’re into powersliding.
There are a couple of features of the Trailmax Mission that make it especially good in dirt, despite its round profile. One is the sidewall lugs, a technology borrowed from ATV tires that allows the tire to bite when sunk into deep sand or mud. Yes, it does surprisingly well. Dunlop also claim the lugs help prevent sidewall punctures from sharp rocks.
You wouldn’t think these little ridges do much to pull a 500 pound bike through deep mud, but they do.
Another feature is the Staggered Step design. I can’t really say if these did anything but Dunlop claims they add rigidity in the contact patch for improved stability. The idea is that as one step wears down, there’s another ready to take over.
Staggered Step System
Obviously we are talking about stability on the sidewalls as you are leaning through a corner. I guess this is Dunlop’s attempt to reduce the “wandering” sensation some tires have when on the side blocks. Perhaps a Physicist reader will explain it to us because I’m a bit at a loss as to how these cut-outs are going to improve stability. That said, I never noticed the tire wandering, which is something I now feel on the Anakee Wilds I just put on.
“Knobby-like performance”?
Not really, although good enough for even deep sand if you are suicidal or mud if you are masochistic. It’s here where the tire has its limits. I found myself going through mud on the Rideau Trail north of Merrickville, and while the tires got me through the first few puddles, they soon caked up.
Impressive initial performance for a 70/30.
The problem is that, unlike a knobby, the mud does not evacuate from the grooves of the Trailmax Mission. You can spin the rear to clear it, but it’s the front that you need planted, and once it’s caked, you might as well be riding on ball bearings.
Yes, you can blame me for taking a tire like this into mud. It’s not meant for that. I’ve seen GS instructors take their 1200GS’s through a mud bath on Anakee 3s!, but I’m no GS instructor. So for the average rider, either stay out of the mud on these or put on a more aggressive tire.
Riders in the Quebec area will be familiar with Marc Chartrand. He is the founder of RidAventure.ca forum, La Classique Rally, and lead planner of the Trans Quebec Trail. Basically he’s The Man in Quebec and probably has more off-road experience exploring Quebec trails than anyone around here, so when he gives advice, I listen. I once read a reply of his to the ubiquitous question of “What tire should I put on my motorcycle?” His answer (I’m paraphrasing and translating) was basically that if you get, say, 6,000K out of a tire and “only” do about 10% off-road, that’s still 600K in the dirt. And that’s a lot of kilometres to be crapping your pants if you have on a street-biased tire. That’s why, he said, experienced ADV riders always put on aggressive tires.
I’m thinking of this advice in relation to the Trailmax Mission tire. If you are riding hard packed dirt, gravel, even some loose rock and shallow sand, these tires are great. But if you are going anywhere near deep sand or mud, you’re on the wrong tire.
The Major Flaw
Regardless of the tire’s off-road limitations, I’m not sure I’ll be putting these on my bike again. That’s because I do remote and long-distance riding and need to be able to change tires by hand. These tires are so tough it’s nearly impossible, and that’s not an option when you’re running tubes. Maybe some people can, but I couldn’t, and that’s what counts. Those 20,000K are the product of very tough rubber used in the manufacturing.
Now before you start saying “It’s all a matter of technique,” let me say that I’ve been spooning tires on and off my bikes for years. I’ve made it a matter of principle, thinking the more I struggle through the process the easier it will become when I have a puncture in the field. I’ve changed many different types of tires, including Metzler Tourance, Shinko 705 and 805, Pirelli Scorpion Trail II, Anakee Adventure, Kenda Big Blocks, and even the dreaded Heidenau K60 Scouts. But I could not change the Trailmax Mission tire.
Getting the tire on was not the problem; it was getting it off. I could get both beads off the rim, but couldn’t get the wheel out of the tire. Usually I put the big 15″ lever through and lever it off the same side, using my knee to press it the rest of the way off. You can watch Ari Henning do that here. But the tire he is changing has a minuscule sidewall, making it easy. The Trailmax Mission has a deep and very tough sidewall. There was no way it was coming off.
I eventually called in the support . . . but my wife was no help. I then texted my buddy Riley from Awesome Players Off-Road MC. He suggested another method of getting the tire off. Instead of same side, remove the other bead on the other side and drop the wheel down into the tire. For example, you can see this method done here. I tried this and got the wheel down into the tire just fine, but no matter how much I struggled with the tire fully lubed up and in the heat, I could not then get the wheel out of the tire. After much cursing, and sweat, and some blood, I got it half off, which is to say, I threw in the towel with the wheel stuck 45˚ relative to the tire. I took it to a shop which charged me $15 to get it off.
I’m not sure the Trailmax Missions are designed to be changed by hand, and I don’t blame Dunlop for abandoning those of us who still do this work. The vast majority of riders take their bikes to a shop for a tire change, and the vast majority of adventure riders aren’t going off-road and aren’t running tubes. Even the latest bikes with off-set spoked wheels don’t run tubes, so you can fix a flat using a plug. To compete in the longevity game, manufacturers are using tougher and tougher rubber. The industry is slowly abandoning those of us who still ride with tubes and need to remove our tires by hand.
I’ll admit, you can get a tube out to patch it without removing the tire, although even that will be difficult with a sidewall this tough. So I’ll step down from my soapbox now by just saying that the difficulty of changing the Trailmax Mission by hand is a consideration.
The Beast. That bruised thumb is the product of a tire lever in trying to get it off. I would suggest also wearing eye or maybe face protection because I had a lever fly out with force.
Conclusion
Dunlop has swung for the fence with the Trailmax Mission tire. It’s a premium tire at a premium price, with a 150/70 18″ (a common rear size) running for about $320 CAN and $250 USF. They listened to riders and studied the market, then came up with a tire capable of going long distances on the large adventure bikes of today. Apparently something like 80% of BMW 1200 (now 1250 and 1300) GS’s never see dirt, and that’s clearly the market Dunlop were aiming for with this tire. If that’s the type of riding you do, the Trailmax Mission is definitely worth a try. Like I said, I used it to ride out to Newfoundland, a tour which was primarily asphalt, but it was nice to know if the asphalt ran out (and it did a few times), we would not be in trouble. Overall, I was very happy with how the tire rode and how long it lasted, even fully loaded with a passenger through the heat of midsummer.
If you are looking for something beefier, capable of mud and sand, consider the Trailmax Raid, a 40/60 tire in the Dunlop line.
I used Seafoam to reduce the carbon build-up on my intake valves.
Last year when I had my trouble in the bush, I noticed a significant amount of carbon build-up inside the throttle bodies of my Triumph Tiger 800XC. My buddy and I were troubleshooting why the bike wouldn’t start, and we thought there might be water in the engine. Peering down into the throttle bodies, we could see something glistening inside. Was it water? We even dipped down there twisted pieces of paper to see if they came up wet. But in the end, with the use of a camera, we determined that what was sparkling was carbon.
This was mildly alarming. My BMW 650GS had absolutely no carbon build-up, and I hadn’t noticed it earlier when working on the Tiger. It prompted me to do my overdue valve adjustment, and as some of you know, all my exhaust valves were tight. I don’t know if that led to the carbon build-up, or how normal such build-up is in an engine. I’d heard of the Seafoam heat soak treatment and, being a little housebound at the moment and looking for a project with the bike, I decided to give it a try.
Preparation
Needless to say, the first thing you have to do is get down to the throttle bodies. For me, that means removing a lot of body panels, lifting the gas tank, and removing the airbox cover. You’ll need to keep all sensors plugged in or you’ll elicit an error code in the ECU, so that might involve unscrewing the sensor rather than unplugging it. If you have any vacuum hoses off, you’ll need to plug them with something of similar diameter.
All set to go with the fuel tank propped up with a piece of wood.
Start by adding the full can of Motor Treatment into your fuel tank.
Start your bike and let it warm up to operating temperature. I waited until I heard my fan kick in so I knew it was good and hot.
Bring your engine up an extra 1000 rpm beyond its normal idle and start spraying the Seafoam Top Engine Cleaner into the throttle bodies. You might need a helper to do this or, as I did, you could use a throttle lock to hold the engine just above idle. For a car, you would insert the tube where the air intake boot attaches to the throttle body, but because my bike doesn’t have a boot, I sprayed directly into each throttle body, alternating every 15-20 seconds and trying to spray an even amount into each. It’s normal to hear the rpm drop slightly as you spray, and you will see a plume of white smoke come out the exhaust. Be sure to do this in a well ventilated area!
Hold the tube down inside each horn and spray equal amounts until the can is done.
When the can is completely empty, turn off the bike and let the Seafoam heat soak for 10-15 minutes. Then restart your engine and give it a few good revs. You should see some white smoke still come out. When you get the bike all buttoned up again, go for a “spirited” ride (i.e. give it the ol’ Italian tune-up). The motor treatment you put in the tank will continue to remove loosened carbon and clean the injectors.
Conclusion
So by now you must be wondering if it did anything. Here are some before and after shots using my scope.
BeforeAfter
Is it my wishful thinking or do some of those valves look better after than before? Cylinder 2 for some reason had less carbon build-up to begin with so didn’t have much improvement, but there seems to be some reduction on the valves in cylinders 1 and 3, and definitely cleaner walls. And with the motor treatment in the fuel, hopefully there will be more reduction during the coming rides.
I dunno. It was worth a try, and harmless. According to the company, Seafoam is a petroleum based product and will not harm your engine. I’m not comfortable putting it in the crankcase because then you are thinning the oil, but this top-end treatment seems innocuous.
While I was down there, I lifted the airbox and resynchronized my throttle bodies, which I had done prior to my valve adjustment and Seafoam treatment but now needed a tweak. I also reset the ECU adaptations following all this.
Screenshots in TuneECU before and after
The three cylinder pressures are listed on the left dial. Pressure is less after decarboning, which is to be expected.
I also had the opportunity to check my K & N air filter and was happy to see it’s completely clean; the Unifilter prefilter I installed seems to be doing its job. I took the Unifilter out and gave it a clean and relube.
A clean bill of health
With the bike all back together, the Michelin Anakee Wild tires and the new lower windscreen on, the bike is ready for some dirt. Doggie is making good progress on his rehab so I’m holding some hope I’ll be able to get away for a short tour before it’s back to work.
Legal disclaimer: Any mechanical advice I provide here is offered merely as a description of what I did and a suggestion of what you may do with your bike. I am not a licensed mechanic. Any work done on your bike is at your own risk. The instructions above follow those provided by Seafoam.
In celebration of Canada Day 2024, here are my 10 favourite roads to ride in Canada.
Canada is a huge country with over a million kilometres of roads. I can’t say I’ve ridden most of them, but I have ridden to both the east and west coasts and almost to the northern one, so I’ve done a good survey of the country. Here are my favourite roads in Canada, going from east to west.
Highway 430 (Newfoundland)
Also known as The Viking Trail, this highway begins at Deer Lake, where it splits off from the Trans Canada Highway and heads west and then north. It hugs the western shore of Newfoundland, offering hours and hours of spectacular ocean views and some of the most impressive geology in the country. Be sure to stop in Gros Morne National Park and hike The Tablelands Trail with its unusual orange rock, and camp at one of three campgrounds right on the beach. A highlight for riding is the section through Rocky Harbour, a mountainous region with changes in elevation and twists and turns and scenic lookouts that rival the iconic Cabot Trail in Cape Breton. Further north, the 430 levels out and follows the shoreline. You’ll feel the air temperature change rapidly when the wind blows off the ocean, so have a windbreaker on hand. Another highlight is Point-au-Choix, a national historic site where moose, caribou, and other wildlife can often be seen. If you make it all the way up to the northern tip of the highway, you’ll be rewarded with views of icebergs drifting southward from Greenland and L’anse Aux Meadows, the historic site of the first settlement of Europeans from which the trail takes its name.
Western Brook Pond
Highway 4 (Nova Scotia)
You may be surprised that I didn’t choose The Cabot Trail as my favourite road in Nova Scotia. It’s a fun ride, no doubt, but for really getting a sense of interior Nova Scotia, I prefer Highway 4. Apparently it was the original Trans Canada Highway traversing the province and you can see that in the way it criss-crosses its replacement. You can also hear its history in some of the towns along the way. Travelling east, you pick it up just outside Oxford before it hooks south through Wentworth Valley, then east through Truro and Bible Hill, New Glasgow, and Antigonish before crossing onto Cape Breton, where it hugs the south shoreline of Bras d’Or Lake all the way to Sydney and, finally, Grace Bay at the shore of the Atlantic Ocean. It’s as long as its history and every bit as varied and interesting. It doesn’t contain the dramatic switchbacks of The Cabot Trail, but weaves its quiet way through rolling hills, countryside, lakes, and villages, never far from civilization but as if in another era. The two or three times I’ve ridden it, I enjoyed it so much I forgot to take a photo, so you’ll just have to get out there yourself to see why it’s one of my favourite roads.
Highway 132 (Quebec)
The 132 is Quebec’s longest and oldest highway. It begins in the west at the US border south of Montreal and follows the south shore of the St. Lawrence River all the way around the Gaspé peninsula. It’s best to pick it up at Rivière-du-Loup east of Quebec City, where it becomes picturesque with old clapboard houses and churches dating back to the origins of Quebec and, indeed, North America. East of Rimouski, the road narrows and mountains rise up on your right so that for hundreds of miles you are riding a narrow ribbon of asphalt strung between the Gulf on one side and dramatic cliffs on the other. And when the road turns inland to traverse the mountain range, the riding gets even better. Be sure to make a stop at Forillion National Park and the iconic Roche Percé (pierced rock), a biker mecca. But don’t stop there; keep riding around the peninsula to see sandy beaches as you pass through quaint fishing villages. When you reach the New Brunswick border, you can cut back across inland on the 299 for some technical riding.
Highway 2 (Ontario)
The first ride I ever did, the day after I got my licence, was along Highway 2 from the Quebec border to Kingston. It is another shoreline road, first in the east with the St. Lawerence River and opening up to Lake Ontario west of Brockville. It is also one of Canada’s oldest roads with a ton of history to explore, particularly Loyalist history. Be sure to check out the Lost Villages Museum, containing replicas of buildings flooded when the Long Sault dam was built, and the Long Sault Parkway, known as the Florida Keys of the north. (It’s actually a series of islands created by the flooding and strung together by bridges.) Windmill Point still contains the original windmill that was the focal point of the 1838 uprising, when Americans invaded across the river in a failed attempt to overthrow the fledging government. Just down the street in Prescott is Fort Wellington, an important early military location, and in Brockville you can walk the first train tunnel in Canada. And while we are on the road of firsts, once you get to Kingston, you can tour the first penitentiary and, a little further, the original milestone marking Highway 2 as the first asphalt highway in Canada. Riding Highway 2 is like riding back in time to the birth of Canada.
The Blue Church, 1845.
Highway 17, from Sault Ste. Marie to Thunder Bay (Ontario)
Highway 17 in the northwest of Ontario is far enough away from the urban sprawl of the GTA (Greater Toronto Area) to feel remote and pristine. Soon after leaving the Sault, you enter Lake Superior Provincial Park with several campgrounds, but regardless of whether you’re camping or not, be sure to pull off at Agawa Bay for the sandy beach and Agawa Rock containing ancient Ojibwe pictographs. When you leave the park travelling west, keep your eye out for the Wawa goose, and then settle in to miles and miles of excellent rolling tarmac with spectacular views of the The Great Sea. Although only two lanes, there are passing lanes on many hills so you can get past that RV and stretch your bike’s legs. At the end of the day, there’s Pukaskwa National Park to rest your head, get down to the shore, or hike inland to The White River Suspension Bridge. If you want a sense of northern Ontario, Highway 17 is it.
Highway 18 (Saskatchewan)
Think Saskatchewan is flat and boring? Think again. Highway 18 along the southern border strings together quaint towns, abandoned homes, historic grain elevators, rolling hills, and unblemished prairie. I rode Highway 18 west into Grasslands National Park East Block. It’s a fantastic national park with a very distinctive style of its own. Instead of the usual towering pines and lake views, Grasslands is in open prairie, and you can imagine what it would have been like to cross this formidable region by wagon in the 19th Century. Be sure to ride the single-lane loop along the top of the badlands, and the next morning, why not, continue on the 18 across the park to Val Marie. When I did it, I had the pleasure of watching four majestic elk cross the road in front of me and, one by one, as if in slow motion, leap the boundary fence before heading off across the open countryside. Grasslands NP and Highway 18 put you in touch with the prairie soil and grass and big sky like no other place I know.
Badlands at sunset, Grasslands NP
Highway 31 and 31A (British Columbia)
The 31 hugs Kootenay Lake from Balfour up to Kaslo, with the lake on one side and mountains on the other. Not bad. But it gets even better when you turn west and head along the 31A from Kaslo to New Denver. This road is listed in several “best of” articles and I’m going to include it in mine too because it’s pretty special. I don’t know how it compares to Tail of the Dragon for corners within a certain distance, but it has many, and one thing it has going for it that Tail does not is incredible scenery. You don’t really want to ride it fast or you’ll miss the view. There are towering mountains on either side and, for the eastern part at least, it follows the bubbling emerald green Kaslo River. At the end, although it needs no prize, is the quaint and secluded town of New Denver. I think I might just retire out there—if only to ride that road whenever I want.
Pausing on the 31A between Kaslo and New Denver
Highway 4 (British Columbia)
If you have to cross Vancouver Island, you have to take Highway 4. Good thing it’s a gem of a road, rising and falling through mountainous terrain with Cathedral Grove as a rest stop and the Pacific Ocean as the destination. As you approach Ucluelet, the road twists up into the mountains and you might find yourself in fog before it drops down again to the ocean. Once there, you’ll find Pacific Rim National Park, a magical place with long sandy beaches, crashing surf, and nothing between you and Asia but 19,000 kilometres of water.
The towering Douglas Firs of Cathedral Grove
Highway 37 (Northern British Columbia)
Technically further west than Highway 4 and Tofino is Highway 37, also know as The Stewart-Cassiar Highway. If you are going into Yukon, it’s one of only two roads going that far north, and I’ll go on record as saying it is preferable for riding to The Alaska Highway. Just north of Smithers and west of Hazelton, you turn right at Kitwanga and head north, 750 kilometres of twisting smooth two-lane blacktop with scenic views of rivers and lakes at the sides of the road and northern Rocky Mountains as backdrop to your ride. It’s pretty remote up there and you will ride for hours without seeing another vehicle, so be sure to have lots of gas and tools at hand, just in case. This is bear country, and you will see many on the road or at the sides, eating berries in the ditch. There might even be some grizzlies in these parts, but the remoteness, your exposure to the elements, and the lingering threat of danger is part of the energy and excitement of Highway 37. This is a road that pushes you out of your comfort zone and into the realm of risk and adventure.
The Dempster Highway (Yukon)
Not enough risk and adventure for you? There’s one highway that trumps all others in both. It’s the Dempster Highway, 886 kilometres of gravel that will eat your tires if not puncture them. When I was up there, I saw a camper rolled over at the side of the road and figured it was due to a puncture because the tire tracks went sideways. But unlike the Trans-Taiga in northern Quebec, you don’t ride this road for bragging rights. You do it for the astounding, majestic, magnificent views like no other in the country. That’s because you are above the tree-line for sections of the Dempster and the wide open vistas of subarctic tundra are worth every kilometre. If you just want a taste, head up about 80 kilometres to Tombstone Territorial Park, but bring bear spray and be sure to string your food. If you want to venture further, you’ll need to go at least 400 kilometres to get to Eagle Plains and the next fuel station, so depending on your bike, you might need to carry extra fuel. One other major consideration: don’t attempt this road on anything but knobby tires; it’s covered in calcium chloride and when it rains the road becomes so slippery you will be forced to wait for it to dry before you can get back down to Dawson City. All warnings aside, this is my favourite road in Canada if only for the geography it offers and the sense of remoteness.
North of Tombstone Territorial Park
I know I’ve missed a few provinces and a territory, but I’m blaming that on Covid. When I went across Canada the summer of ’21, I wasn’t allowed to stop in Manitoba, and the border to The Northwest Territories was closed. I also didn’t spend much time exploring Alberta but stayed mostly with friends and family in Calgary.
So what roads have I missed? Which of these have your ridden? Let me know your thoughts. I’m two years away from retiring and there’s a lot more of this beautiful country I want to see, so please drop a comment below and I’ll put it on my bucket list.
Here in Montreal, Canada Day is mired in the usual nationalist politics and anti-colonial sentiment, and I think that’s a shame. Surely it’s not the right time to highlight differences or mistakes made in our past, but to celebrate the many collective freedoms and opportunities the country offers as well as to recognize its complex history and natural beauty. All things considered, and certainly compared to many other countries around the world, it really is a pretty great country to live in, and an amazing one to ride. Happy Canada Day. Now tomorrow get out there and ride.
I was playing pickle ball with a motorcycle friend when she caught her foot on the court and fell, breaking her wrist and messing up her plans for an upcoming tour through Greece. (She ended up going but as a pillion.)
Another riding buddy just bought a sweet 2022 1250GS and was all set to ship it to Las Vegas this fall and ride to Yosemite NP and back along the Pacific Coast Highway to San Diego. The other day while walking into his garage, he got his feet caught up in a hose and fell, breaking both his arms.
Both my friends are healing well but their stories remind me that sometimes “the best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men / Gang aft a-gley” (Robbie Burns, “The best laid plans of mice and men / Can go awry”).
I’m thinking of this in relation to my own summer plans. If you’ve been following this blog, you know I was due to leave July 1 to ride The Blue Ridge Parkway down to West Virginia, then ride the MABDR and NEBDR back to Quebec. The bike was ready; I was ready. Now that’s not going to happen, but for reasons less dramatic than what happened to my friends.
As some of you know, my wife and I rescued a dog in October 2021, near the end of the Covid crisis. He was in a bad situation through the first several years of his life and came to us with some pretty severe trauma. So I didn’t travel that first summer but let him settle into his new home. Last summer, Marilyn and I left him for three weeks while we toured the East Coast and Newfoundland, and ever since then, he’s shown signs of separation anxiety.
Recently while we were on a short trip out of province to visit family, he became severely ill. He lost about 20% of his weight and had to be hospitalized for 24 hours to receive intensive treatment. The official diagnosis was gastro, but I’ve come to learn that gastro is really just a generic term for any kind of digestive issue. The real cause, I’m quite certain, was stress.
The good news is that, physically, he has recovered after a week of antibiotics and gastro food. The bad news is that now his anxiety has worsened to the degree that we can no longer leave him alone, even to run short errands.
So instead of touring through July, I’ll be working with him to desensitize and recondition him, but this is going to take time. If he progresses quickly, there’s an outside chance I might be able to ride just the NEBDR in August. That’s my glimmer of hope. Otherwise, the Blue Ridge Parkway and BDR’s will have to wait another year.
Although disappointed, I can’t complain too loudly about this turn of events. Yes, I was looking forward to the ride after a tough winter, but I don’t have any broken bones, and Montreal’s West Island is very pleasant in the summertime. I’ll still be doing day rides when Marilyn is home, and I’ll still be posting about those rides and writing other content.
Speaking of which, the other day I rode an old favourite, Riviére Rouge up to Brookdale, then back down the 323 to Montebello before returning along the 148. Okay, it’s not The Blue Ridge Parkway, but the Tiger is always fun to ride.
The motto of this blog is “life is an adventure.” You never know what’s around the next corner.
650thumper 