C
Camelman
Guest
It has been a while since I had the time to visit my folks on the farm outside Ladismith. Four months to be exact. With work, all the planning for the Amageza 2012, qualifiers, etc. there has been not one weekend I could just ride. As this weekend was the only one semi-open for the foreseeable future, and a good cover-story forming in my head on why I'm missing Christmas on the farm, and a 'GRrrrrrrrr' from FC for asking to postpone out meeting later that afternoon, I packed 3 items of clothing and a pair of Palestine Spikes and headed North.
The 690 had just had its 1000k service and was wild as a freaking weasel. At one stage I pulled away from the traffic light with a bit of aggression. Hitting third, I thought,'Why is the front so loose?' Only then finding that it was loose because it was 20cm in the air! Damn, I thought, furtherest I've ever wheelied a bike!
Over the pass was a joy, the 690 powering through the pass with wanton abandon. The Oryx fairing doing a absolute stirling job of keeping me out of the direct force of the 140km/h wind. Down the pass and the long double lane to Worcester and the KTM was doing 130km/h indicated without a fuss, at 65% power. This was calculated by opening it full, then closing the throttle until a 65% point was reached. Full open this dude, (Notice its a male, nothing female about this bike. You ask it does, no bitching an complaining!) did 185km/h indicated. Turning right on the back road to Rawsonville, and then another right off this to the town, and this is where the sh!t hit the fan.
I was looking for a gap to cross between the traffic, and missed a 30cm wide swath of diesel in the middle of the road. So turning at about 40km/h I suddenly found myself flat on my chest, the bike on its right side, and my boots on top of the seat, sliding merrily across the road. The first time I actually knew I had fallen, was when I heard my chest plate scratching on the tar, and my hands sliding on the tar in a classic superman pose. After what felt like 2 minutes, but was less than 10 seconds, we came to a stop on the gravel on the left shoulder. A car which saw the thing happen stopped and asked if I was okay. And yes, I was. All the kit I put on for every ride did what it was supposed too. Not even a bruise, nor a scratch. The bike had a few minor scratches on the right of the damn strong fairing, and the seat had a tear where my boot had hooked it with one of the metal studs on the point, but other than that, it was ready to roll.
So I swallowed my pride, and continued my mission, glad the first fall with a new bike was no out of the way, and I could continue!
Back roads to Montague, and off to Ouberg Pass, found me passing a sweep vehicle saying 'BMW Club'. 'Eish' I though, last thing I wanted. I wanted to nail the living sh!t out of this road, and now I had to ride nice so I can refute the hooligan reputation of KTM riders. Well, I tried. I passed all the riders nice and slow, waved at all of them, and made sure I was downwind from the dust, making sure to keep the throttle steady so I don't roost them. They were nicely even spaced, and with a crosswind, made passing easy. 20km later I passed the leaders, and then the games were on.
This bike is damn crazy, if it could talk it would say, 'Ag common man, is that all you got?'. Leading with the front wheel into the corner, I could open the throttle wide, stepping out with the outside foot, and gently in with the inside, just bending a the knee slightly, and the Oryx would hoal with joy and reward me with a rear wheel 60 degrees perpendicular to the front wheel!
In less that 1.5 hours I reached Ladismith, and the farm. Now to explain Christmas.
The next morning I duck-tape-bandaged the seat, and off we went. The last refuel was the previous day in Montague, but with the added external tanks of the Oryx kit, I calculated I could do at least 400km before I would have to push. So without refueling I pointed the Oryx Southwest to Anysberg. For navigation I only had dead-reckoning and a bit of local knowledge and hearsay. I have never ridden through Anysberg to Montague, but how hard could it be to find the road. So I just winged it. Have fuel, will ride.
Well, this road was a jol. Nice twisty jeep track, with here and there a couple of empty streams to cross. In the distance I saw rain coming. This could be interesting I though. Going would be slower, but that's about it. With the great clearance the 690 has, I had no worries of streams, having crossed a 80cm deep stream the previous day.
Soon I was through, having seen some game, and great scenery and down into Montague, and on to Robertson. I was still not going to refuel. I wanted to see how far I can ride. No use to try and recce with a bike, if you don't know exactly its limitations. I was planning a detour to Somerset West to visit some fam, but no way I was sticking to the tar. I don't trust tar. You can't read it. It seems nice and solid and clear, and makes you feel falsely secure, and then it bites you hard. No, give me any kind of gravel , any day!
Seeing a peak in the general direction of where I thought Grabouw should be, I commenced my mission. farm-roads, jeep tracks, secondary roads passed by, and then the fuel light came on. 360km. And I had no idea where I was. Between the R62 and the Villersdorp road, was my guess. So I slowed down to my fuel saving mode of 100km/h. 8km Later I hit the Villiersdorp road, 10km from Worcester. Haha. Oh well, at least I did some great roads, so I continued at my 100km/h to Rawsonville. At 401km on the clock, I stopped for fuel. Not bad, not bad at all!
At the garage I found some roadies with Hayabusas, and what not. I waved, refueled and left, just as they started up. Hitting the N1, I stuck to 130km, all through the pass and out the other side, then just passed the Stellenbosch ramp, found to Hayabussas in my rear view mirror. So like every DS rider I opened the throttle, and let the 690 howl! And damn, the thing went like a bat out of hell. 170km/h passed, and 185km/h came up. That was it. That single piston was not going to go faster than that. Was fast enough to keep all but two of them behind me through the traffic. Even had a laugh as a 600cc something-or-other passed me, its rider lying flat on the bike willing it faster. Two minutes of this was enough for me, and I slowed down to 125, until eventually 690km later, I stopped in my driveway.
This bike is awesome, the range and power is absolutely what is required for the more hardcore adventure rider, and even if you're not. If you're not going to pack all but the kitchen sink, and don't require rear footpecks, then this is about as good as it gets.The KTM Cape Town Oryx fairing does a great job of keeping the rider sheltered, and can take a fall with ease. The bike is light and one can manhandle it with ease. Truly a great ride, this one.
The 690 had just had its 1000k service and was wild as a freaking weasel. At one stage I pulled away from the traffic light with a bit of aggression. Hitting third, I thought,'Why is the front so loose?' Only then finding that it was loose because it was 20cm in the air! Damn, I thought, furtherest I've ever wheelied a bike!
Over the pass was a joy, the 690 powering through the pass with wanton abandon. The Oryx fairing doing a absolute stirling job of keeping me out of the direct force of the 140km/h wind. Down the pass and the long double lane to Worcester and the KTM was doing 130km/h indicated without a fuss, at 65% power. This was calculated by opening it full, then closing the throttle until a 65% point was reached. Full open this dude, (Notice its a male, nothing female about this bike. You ask it does, no bitching an complaining!) did 185km/h indicated. Turning right on the back road to Rawsonville, and then another right off this to the town, and this is where the sh!t hit the fan.
I was looking for a gap to cross between the traffic, and missed a 30cm wide swath of diesel in the middle of the road. So turning at about 40km/h I suddenly found myself flat on my chest, the bike on its right side, and my boots on top of the seat, sliding merrily across the road. The first time I actually knew I had fallen, was when I heard my chest plate scratching on the tar, and my hands sliding on the tar in a classic superman pose. After what felt like 2 minutes, but was less than 10 seconds, we came to a stop on the gravel on the left shoulder. A car which saw the thing happen stopped and asked if I was okay. And yes, I was. All the kit I put on for every ride did what it was supposed too. Not even a bruise, nor a scratch. The bike had a few minor scratches on the right of the damn strong fairing, and the seat had a tear where my boot had hooked it with one of the metal studs on the point, but other than that, it was ready to roll.
So I swallowed my pride, and continued my mission, glad the first fall with a new bike was no out of the way, and I could continue!
Back roads to Montague, and off to Ouberg Pass, found me passing a sweep vehicle saying 'BMW Club'. 'Eish' I though, last thing I wanted. I wanted to nail the living sh!t out of this road, and now I had to ride nice so I can refute the hooligan reputation of KTM riders. Well, I tried. I passed all the riders nice and slow, waved at all of them, and made sure I was downwind from the dust, making sure to keep the throttle steady so I don't roost them. They were nicely even spaced, and with a crosswind, made passing easy. 20km later I passed the leaders, and then the games were on.
This bike is damn crazy, if it could talk it would say, 'Ag common man, is that all you got?'. Leading with the front wheel into the corner, I could open the throttle wide, stepping out with the outside foot, and gently in with the inside, just bending a the knee slightly, and the Oryx would hoal with joy and reward me with a rear wheel 60 degrees perpendicular to the front wheel!
In less that 1.5 hours I reached Ladismith, and the farm. Now to explain Christmas.
The next morning I duck-tape-bandaged the seat, and off we went. The last refuel was the previous day in Montague, but with the added external tanks of the Oryx kit, I calculated I could do at least 400km before I would have to push. So without refueling I pointed the Oryx Southwest to Anysberg. For navigation I only had dead-reckoning and a bit of local knowledge and hearsay. I have never ridden through Anysberg to Montague, but how hard could it be to find the road. So I just winged it. Have fuel, will ride.
Well, this road was a jol. Nice twisty jeep track, with here and there a couple of empty streams to cross. In the distance I saw rain coming. This could be interesting I though. Going would be slower, but that's about it. With the great clearance the 690 has, I had no worries of streams, having crossed a 80cm deep stream the previous day.
Soon I was through, having seen some game, and great scenery and down into Montague, and on to Robertson. I was still not going to refuel. I wanted to see how far I can ride. No use to try and recce with a bike, if you don't know exactly its limitations. I was planning a detour to Somerset West to visit some fam, but no way I was sticking to the tar. I don't trust tar. You can't read it. It seems nice and solid and clear, and makes you feel falsely secure, and then it bites you hard. No, give me any kind of gravel , any day!
Seeing a peak in the general direction of where I thought Grabouw should be, I commenced my mission. farm-roads, jeep tracks, secondary roads passed by, and then the fuel light came on. 360km. And I had no idea where I was. Between the R62 and the Villersdorp road, was my guess. So I slowed down to my fuel saving mode of 100km/h. 8km Later I hit the Villiersdorp road, 10km from Worcester. Haha. Oh well, at least I did some great roads, so I continued at my 100km/h to Rawsonville. At 401km on the clock, I stopped for fuel. Not bad, not bad at all!
At the garage I found some roadies with Hayabusas, and what not. I waved, refueled and left, just as they started up. Hitting the N1, I stuck to 130km, all through the pass and out the other side, then just passed the Stellenbosch ramp, found to Hayabussas in my rear view mirror. So like every DS rider I opened the throttle, and let the 690 howl! And damn, the thing went like a bat out of hell. 170km/h passed, and 185km/h came up. That was it. That single piston was not going to go faster than that. Was fast enough to keep all but two of them behind me through the traffic. Even had a laugh as a 600cc something-or-other passed me, its rider lying flat on the bike willing it faster. Two minutes of this was enough for me, and I slowed down to 125, until eventually 690km later, I stopped in my driveway.
This bike is awesome, the range and power is absolutely what is required for the more hardcore adventure rider, and even if you're not. If you're not going to pack all but the kitchen sink, and don't require rear footpecks, then this is about as good as it gets.The KTM Cape Town Oryx fairing does a great job of keeping the rider sheltered, and can take a fall with ease. The bike is light and one can manhandle it with ease. Truly a great ride, this one.
