Going from Oshawa to Picton off the beaten path
Five guys jump on their rides for an off-road adventure and live to tell the tale
Recently, a few friends and I were kicking around ideas for an off-road ride and the winner was — Oshawa to Picton using as many gravel roads, trails and rights-of-way as we could. And, if we had to ride on the hard stuff, then it would be broken up, one-lane concession roads that barely qualified as paved.
The main players were Tony Vinent (2009 Kawasaki KLR650), George O’Sullivan (2013 Suzuki DR650), Rob Cormier (2014 KLR650) and me on my ’08 KLR650.
George and Rob both have extensive off-road experience, while Tony and I are both ex-roadracers who came late to the mud party. George is a former expert-ranked enduro rider while Cormier has ridden to Alaska several times, and last year rode through India.
Both of them can easily navigate terrain that would give a mountain goat the heebie-jeebies.
We reviewed the ground rules — ride at your own comfort level and each rider waits for the one behind at every turn or trail junction.
That way, nobody gets separated from the group and if someone is overdue, help is on the way.
After a few easy trails and gravel roads to warm up, we hit our first death trap — er, “challenging” section — a steep, uphill, root-infested cow path, eroded by rain and coated in slippery grey silt. Yuck.
I made it up OK after changing ruts but Tony’s KLR wrestled him to the ground about halfway up.
It was the first incident of the day, and sadly, it wouldn’t be the last.
It seemed like every time there was a water crossing, mud bog or deep sand area, we found a black KLR with Tony underneath it. It got to the point where everybody started jockeying to ride in front of Tony so they wouldn’t have to keep lifting the bike off him.
But, in all fairness, the KLR is a tall, heavy bike, and Tony isn’t the biggest guy in the county. Even the 6-2, 220pound linebacker-like Cormier, with all his experience, had a couple of problems.
“Being top heavy, once it starts going, you just can’t stop it,” he laughed.
Our ride was a good comparison between two of the more popular dual sports available. The KLR has been around since 1985 and is one of the most versatile motorcycles ever made. The Suzuki DR650 has been around almost as long, is air-cooled rather than liquid, and at 166 kg, it’s 30 kg lighter, which makes it handle better in the rough going.
At 196 kg, the KLR is porkier but that’s with a full 22-litre fuel tank (vs. 13 litres on the DR) so the difference isn’t as great as it initially appears. Plus, with the Suzuki, you’d better start looking for a gas station every 180 kilometres or so, which is a major inconvenience.
The KLR also has better wind and weather protection, a more comfort- able seat and a huge luggage rack to attach all the gear you need for an overnighter.
With aftermarket accessories, it’s easy to fine tune and personalize either one. Tony, for example, has in- stalled shorter suspension links and a lower seat to better suit his smaller stature, while neither Rob nor I have a problem with the KLR’s lofty 890mm (35-inch) seat height.
Journalistic integrity forces me to report that George and the DR didn’t hit the ground at all, while each KLR kissed the dirt at least once. Some more than others — cough, Tony, cough.
I got into a couple of potential X-ray situations that, if filmed, would have 100,000 hits on YouTube within hours, and once I hit a root with my foot and almost kicked myself in the back of the head.
Even though George did the route 10 years before, things had changed, trails were closed and “Private Property” signs forced us to backtrack. Several times, my GPS showed that we were 40 kilometres from nowhere and 50 from nowhere else.
All the rain this summer made hills very challenging because of the ruts, washouts and gullies.
Also, once stopped, there was no need for sunscreen, because within seconds, every inch of unprotected skin was quickly covered by a nice shady layer of mosquitoes.
It took a full day to get to Picton, and just before arriving at the motel, it started pouring, soaking us to the skin. The next morning, we opted not to take the same route home, as it would’ve been pretty messy back in the bush, and used gravel concession roads all the way.
But, you don’t need a planned route to have fun on a dual sport. If you see a sign that says, “Unimproved road, use at own risk,” well, that’s pretty good. And if the sign says, “Dangerous unimproved road,” that’s even better. Steve Bond is a regular contributor to Toronto Star Wheels. For more Toronto Star automotive coverage, go to thestar.com/autos. To reach Wheels Editor Norris McDonald email nmcdonald@thestar.ca.