Tiger 800 XC

2013 Triumph Tiger 800XC Long Term Review

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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 airbox
and 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.

Walkaround of the mods I’ve done on the bike.

The Viking Trail

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Marilyn and I begin our tour of Newfoundland by riding the west coast to L’Anse aux Meadows.

Newfoundland bound.

You know you’re headed to Newfoundland when the ferry staff call you “Hun.” In my profession (teaching), that’s tantamount to sexual harassment, but here it’s the term of endearment it’s clearly meant to be. We were directed to the front and side and found the tie-down straps. I hate ratcheting straps. I’ve been using them for years and still haven’t figured out how to work the damn things. There are YouTube videos and probably PhD programs as well on how the mechanism works, but using them for me usually ends up with cursing and a pinched finger. Thankfully, the tie-downs provided by the ferry were a simple single folding mechanism that even English teachers can operate.

It’s always a little unnerving leaving your bike and gear for a prolonged period of time, but only staff are allowed down in the hold once the ferry leaves port. Still, I locked the panniers and the helmets, and you can see in the photo above I’ve used a cable to secure the duffle bag as best as one can. I made this from materials purchased at Canadian Tire, the big-box hardware store here in . . . you guessed it, Canada. I bought a length of plastic-coated cable and made loops at both ends by crimping cable sleeves, then attached a simple brass waterproof lock. It’s not super secure but prevents the grab and run. My faith in a good samaritan reporting someone using cable cutters outweighs my cynicism toward thieves. I trust no one wants my smelly boots.

Catching up on sleep.

Once upstairs, we settled in and I promptly fell asleep. I’m an expert napper, even in public places, and use every opportunity to dig myself out of the sleep deficit I accumulate when adventure touring. Then we had dinner which, I have to say, was surprisingly good. I guess I was expecting airline food, but the fish & chips and cloth placemats and real utensils not to mention the Newfoundland friendly service was a treat. Marine Atlantic ferries gets a five star rating from me. It was nice just to sit at the window and look out over the mesmerizing water and watch a seagull follow us for miles, skimming the waves.

Marilyn in her naval attire.

We took the midday ferry because all the cabins for night crossing sell out early. We made our reservation mid-March (for an early July crossing) and they were already sold out. This meant that we lost a day of riding, but I’ve learned that rest days are required at my “advanced age,” so it was all for the best. It just meant that we needed to find accommodations close to Port-aux-Basques, where the ferry shores at 7:15 p.m., because we didn’t want to ride in the dark. Everyone—and I mean everyone—had warned us about the moose in Newfoundland. I suspect this is somewhat like the bear warnings tourists to Canada receive. I have to say, in all our travels across the island, we saw only two moose, midday at the side of the highway, but it’s still a good idea to get off the road at sundown, especially if you’re on a motorcycle.

We therefore had a reservation at JT Cheeseman Provincial Park, about 13 kilometers from the docks. It was a short stay as we were eager to get up into Gros Morne National Park, a bucket list destination for both of us. Our first impressions of The Rock were lovely, with low-hanging clouds above a shallow mountain range on the horizon, and a fog horn sounding in the distance throughout the night, reminding us we were not far from the sea.

My best Pee-Wee Herman hairdo.

The next day we rode north on the Trans Canada Highway through Corner Brook, then split off at Deer Lake onto the 430 and then the 431. As we pulled off at the lookout at Woody Point, I went to turn sharply to park the bike, only the handlebars locked partway and we lost our balance. Thankfully we were going very slowly and I just put my foot down to prevent a tip-over. Marilyn climbed off and I started inspecting the bike. The handlebars would definitely not go full lock but were blocked by something hard. It felt like metal on metal. Eventually, I saw the culprit: a screw from my wind deflector had come out and fallen down into the triple-T and was blocking the handlebar movement. What were the odds! We got lucky on several counts there, not only that I didn’t lose the screw but also that it didn’t obstruct a turn at a higher speed. I got out the tools and replaced the errant hardware, this time using thread locker.

Looking down into the forks.
I always tour with thread locker.

Readers will be pleased to know that I’ve since removed the obnoxious wind deflector. I’ll pay the price of some buffeting for video footage with an unobstructed view.

We got a site at Trout River Campground, which was chosen for its proximity to The Tablelands, a rare phenomenon and one of only a few places in the world where the earth’s mantle is exposed. The peridotite rock turns orange as it oxidizes, resulting in a geography that appears like the surface of Mars, not that I have any direct experience with that. In truth, the geology is more like the centre of the earth than a distant planet. Jules Verne modelled his book Journey to the Centre of the Earth after Iceland’s geology, but he could have equally used The Tablelands as his inspiration.

Hiking The Tablelands.

We hiked up in the afternoon heat, and I was happy to have added a hydration backpack (I’m not calling it a bladder because that’s disgusting) to my kit. It meant that we could easily carry water on and off the bike as well as a few other items, like snacks and a selfie stick.

On our way out the next morning, we met some touring cyclists at “the facilities.” They were cooking their breakfast under the shelter there before hitting the road. Just when you start feeling pretty good about managing to fit everything on the motorcycle, you run into cyclists who are doing the same but on bicycles. Hard core. I wonder if bicyclists feel a similar sense of humility when they cross paths with backpackers, who have managed not only to fit everything into one bag but also to carry it to where they are going. At some point, such minimalism must have diminishing returns on investment and become more a penance for sins done, like the story of Cheryl Strayed in the movie Wild (directed by the late Jean-Marc Vallée and played by Reese Witherspoon), who clearly had a heavy burden to bear, so to speak. This line of thought leads me to the ultimate minimalist traveller, the migrant, who is fleeing on foot with little more than the clothes he or she is wearing, and that’s where my imagination has its limit. I can’t imagine doing such a thing, not unless my life depended on it, which I guess for many migrants, it does.

Travelling light.

I also chatted with another camper while waiting for Marilyn. He took an interest in my bike because it was a Triumph and he is English, or English-Canadian. He said he used to ride a Triumph in England and before that an AJS Matchless, which is the exact bike my dad rode before he immigrated, so we had a nostalgic chat and I gave the bike a few gratuitous revs as we parted so he could hear the sweet exhaust note of the Triumph triple. When I rode a BMW, Germans would approach me with their memories; now that I ride a Triumph, Brits chat me up. Once while doing some slow-speed exercises in a neighbourhood church parking lot, I struck up a conversation with the priest, who used to ride a Yamaha 250 in India. Everyone seems to have a story about their motorcycling days, and it occurs to me that motorcycles hold a special place in one’s identity, even if one has long since given up riding. I suspect they remind us of the freest years of our lives, which can be in youth, or in my case, at the age of 60. The motorcycle is the symbol of the best years of our lives, whenever that may be.

We headed back out to the 430 and then turned north. It was a special day because we had reservations for the Western Brook Pond boat tour just north of Rocky Harbour. The highway through Rocky Harbour is spectacular and led to one of only a few disagreements we had during the tour. I say “and” not “but” because it was the spectacular nature of the road that led to the disagreement. It’s twisty and undulating with fantastic views out over the ocean. I wanted to enjoy riding this section “at pace,” but Marilyn wanted me to slow down so she could photograph from the back. (She is by profession and vocation a photographer and carries her iPhone on a lanyard for this purpose.) We had a conflict of interests: my passion for riding versus her passion for photography.

Riding the 431 just south of Rocky Harbour.

I did what any smart husband would do: I acquiesced. Only as I write this she says “I overrided her,” so I guess we have differing memories of that part of the trip. I do remember trying to come to some sort of agreement later whereby if the views were good we would ride at her pace, but if the road were good (but nothing special about the view), we would ride at my pace. In the end, however, I never rode anywhere near the limits of the bike or my abilities. You have to ride to the comfort level of your pillion, especially if she is your wife. The answer, I’ve come to realize, is to separate the interests and have some tours 2-up and some solo. At least that’s the plan moving forward. It’s not really a compromise because it leads to double the riding.

We arrived at the parking lot in plenty of time to hike the required 3 kilometres out to the boat. Western Brook Pond is actually an inland freshwater lake inaccessible by car. It looks like a fjord with steep cliffs on both sides carved by receeding glaciers, but is technically a gorge since, we were told, fjords are saltwater and gorges are freshwater. At one time it was a fjord, connected to the sea, but over time has become closed off and is now freshwater. At any rate, there was some water and some dramatic cliffs producing some stunning views. In fact, one of the views is the iconic shot used by Newfoundland tourism.

Click to enlarge fullscreen

When we docked, Marilyn and I shared some clam chowder at the cafe, then hiked back to the bike, which was thankfully untouched. That night we stayed at Shallow Bay Campground near Cow Head. There are several campgrounds in Gros Morne and they are all different. Where Trout River was inland and wooded, Shallow Bay is on the ocean with a long, sandy beach. It’s a real treat, so be sure to stop there if you are passing through.

The next day was our trip up the remainder of the west coast to L’Anse aux Meadows, a National Historic and UNESCO World Heritage Site, where there are the remains of an 11th-century Viking settlement. It’s a long way to go to see some sod houses, but I like history and wanted to stand at the place where early human migration spreading west (Norse) and east (Indigenous) first met. That’s a pretty significant moment in the history of human civilization. I suspect both must have crapped their respective pants, or whatever 11th-century garment they were wearing at the time, upon seeing the other. The monument at L’Anse aux Meadows commemorating the encounter conveys the crapping quite well, I think.

Meeting of Two Worlds. Not a fan of modern representative sculpture.

According to the old Norse sagas, Newfoundland was discovered accidentally when Vikings from Greenland were blown off course in a violent storm. They saw the Labrador shoreline but didn’t dare land. However, after word spread about this mysterious land, a second group of explorers did shore and, during one excursion southward, happened upon a small band of Indigenous men. The Vikings, of course, did what Vikings do, and promptly slaughtered the lot, all except one, who either escaped or was spared in order to go spread the word about the badass Vikings. If the latter is the case, he did his job very well, for shortly afterward, a large war party returned and kicked the Vikings’ dirty butts back to Greenland. Thus is the first encounter of Europeans and Native Americans. A third Viking expedition did manage to settle for a time in L’Anse aux Meadows, but suspicion and distrust between the parties remained, and sometimes I swear we haven’t gotten any further than that.

Our camp that night was at Pistolet Bay Provincial Park at the very tip of the northern peninsula. The bugs were so bad that neither of us was willing to prepare food while being eaten, so we headed into Raleigh for dinner at the Burnt Cape Cafe. Someone there is clearly a hockey fan, and I enjoyed looking at the signed jerseys of Darryl Sittler, Bobby Hull, Sidney Crosby, and others that adorned the walls. Oh yeah, the food was pretty good too.

After dinner we went for a little ride along the shore. I wanted to get over to the lighthouse for the sunset, but the road through the ecological reserve is not maintained and the riding got quite “interesting.” Just when I felt I was finally doing some real adventure riding, the Tiger XC in its element, Marilyn got nervous so we turned around and went over to the other side of the bay. The payoff was that there we got our first glimpse of icebergs. They were in the distance but nevertheless had us giddy as schoolchildren. Little did we know what was to come.

If you want to follow us across The Rock to Saint John’s, click Follow.