2004 vs. 2015 650 V-Strom

One of the cool things about riding with Scott is that he often has something new to play with. In this case, a 2014 Suzuki V-Strom of the 650 persuasion. He had about 7,000 miles on the bike and he bought it last fall. Scott is the rider I used to be. My poor V-Strom has barely been ridden, hardly been maintained, and every time I look at it I think about selling it and looking for a cheap convertible. It's a perfectly good motorcycle, but I'm old and looking down the barrel of "my last bike" and a 4-wheel future. Scott, on the other hand, appears to have a couple more decades of mountain adventure riding in front of him. So, about 9/10 of the way through our hot springs Colorado trip, we swapped bikes for a perspective on 10 years of Suzuki's iconic adventure machine.

 

Right off, I noticed that the transmission has dramatically less lash. One of the original complaints about the 650 V-Strom was the play between the engine, transmission, and driveline. That is not a "thing" in the 2014. My tired old 2004 V-Strom has even more lash than it did 60k or so ago, but his bike is tight as a new chain. That increases rider confidence, especially during low speed maneuvers and on tricky terrain.

 

The engine is both smoother feeling and quieter. Throttle response is slightly smoother and the feel of the throttle is much lighter. Again, that helps with low speed maneuvers and getting off at stop lights, especially on a hill is improved. The 2014's power and torque is insignificantly greater, number-wise, but it feels significant. I think he's depending on the on-board computer mileage estimate, but he seemed to think he was getting 4-8mpg better mileage than me on the same routes. Having experienced those computers in rental cars, I prefer to do my own math. Like motorcycle speedometers, they are consistently optimistic.

 

The fairing looks easier to work around and appears to be lighter. There is a lot more "air" between the inside of the fairing and the chassis, forks, and tank. I like the look of the new fairing, too. However, since Scott didn't want me disassembling his bike in the motel parking lot I'll have to assume Suzuki made some service-ability improvements here.

 

The seat is comfortable for a stock seat, but a poor second to my Sargent. Scott made a few positive comments about my bike's suspension, but he tempered all of them by admitting everything he liked could have been due to the Sargent seat. I agree. The new stock seating position seems more narrow, possibly due to the 0.4 gallon smaller tank? I felt like I was a little more "in" the 2014 than my bike; less perched on top of the ride or something like that. It's an almost insignificant difference, but it inspired a little more corning confidence.

 

The stock windshield works as well as my often fooled with Madstad system. In fact, we both felt that the air pocket behind either windshield was exactly the same.

 

The new stock luggage is cool and VERY large. I honestly like my GIVI stuff better, but that's just opinion BS. The Suzuki stuff packs from the top and you can cram a buttload of stuff into those three huge bags. Not enough, apparently, for Scott, but enough to take me to Alaska or Nova Scotia without any extra luggage or bags.

 

The Suzuki ABS system is terrific. Hauling Scott’s bike down from 65 with full pressure applied was smooth as possible. Like my experience on the Yamaha Super Tenere, I don't know how you can fault this braking system. Scott seemed to think he needed a way to shut it off, but I wouldn't. It was firm, yet had good feel and stopped solidly without no chatter or indication (other than a little bit of a soft feel to the lever) of interference. I loved it. Back on my 2004, I applied the same kind of pressure and nearly skipped the front tire in a 50mph to nothing stop. I could get used to ABS like this.

 

Overall, I was a little sorry to have to give the 2014 back. If I were a decade younger, I'd be thinking about trading up. I liked his Honda NC700X because of the incredible fuel efficiency, but I like the V-Strom more because it was really fun to ride.

My Motorcycles: Suzuki V-Strom 650

Me and Wee

All Rights Reserved © 2007 Thomas W. Day

The concise, well-edited, more politically correct version of this article can be found at the Minnesota Motorcycle Monthly website: http://www.mnmotorcycle.com/mmm/pages/2007/96/review96.htm

Sport bikes, including the "standard" SV650, are for kids (meaning anyone under 40) and folks who have not abused their bodies into a pile of creaking, rusting, decaying bones. That's not me. I have owned an SV650 for almost 30,000 miles and, while I like the bike, I missed my more multi-purpose Yamaha 850 TDM many times, especially on long trips. Particularly, I missed the relaxed knee bend of the TDM's riding position and the long, soft suspension. Four hundred miles on the SV and my knees are seized, my neck feels like an Alien baby is trying to hatch from somewhere between the second and fourth vertebra, and my butt hurts so bad it's practically speaking to me. My longest day on the SV was about 820 miles from a campsite south of Thunder Bay to Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario and back to another campsite near Marquette, WI. Granted, the camping didn't allow much recuperation the next day, although I slept like a dead man. Still, I could barely walk upright for two days after I got home and my neck was all but paralyzed for a week. I didn't travel more than 350 miles in a day on the SV since.

When the Suzuki V-Strom 650 arrived, in 2004, I started thinking about buying a "WeeStrom."  That's the slightly disrespectful nickname given to the Suzuki V-Strom 650 by its owners. The DL650 is the little brother of the V-Strom 1000 and the multi-purpose cousin of the SV650. Even after my old-guy complaints, I like almost everything about the SV; particularly the motor. So, as soon as the V-Strom arrived I started watching for a good deal on a used bike.  

At the beginning of last summer, I found used V-Stroms with 50,000+ miles on the motor going for $5,500 and up. Mildly used bikes went for nearly $6,000, consistently. My brother talked to a bike broker and was warned, "You'll be waiting until 2008 before you get one of these guys (even a 2004 DL650) for your price." My price was the Kelly Blue Book value! However, I got lucky, late last fall (September, 2006). I bought a barely-used (1,400 miles) 2004 DL650 through eBay from a seller in Cincinnati. We swapped money and paperwork at the Cincinnati Amtrak station. After a brief side-trip to the station's parking lot where I got used to the handling, brakes, and taller, less-nimble (than the SV650) weight distribution, I pointed my black horse westward. After a few hundred miles, the V-Strom began to feel familiar and downright comfortable. It is a big bike, though, and many folks will not be able to get past the long-tall geometry of this motorcycle.

There are a bunch of things to take into consideration when you think of the advertised (versus the practical) purpose of an "Adventure Touring" motorcycle. I think this breed of bike is best represented (in the US) by the 1992 Yamaha TDM, or the Honda Transalp in 1988, or today's BMW F650GS, and the ever-present KLR650. Outside of less tangible issues, like the motor and handling characteristics, I think there are some basic things to consider about this type of bike. Here is a radically short list of the specs I think are among those basic items stacked up against five semi-similar mid-sized Adventure Touring bikes:

Model	Suspension	Weight (dry)	Seat Height	Exhaust
2004-07 Suzuki V-Strom 650	front and rear 5.9"	427 pounds	32.3”	low pipe no bashplate
Kawasaki KLR650 (1987-07)	front and rear 9.1"	337 pounds	35"	genuine high pipe & bashplate
BMW F650GS (1993-07)	front 6.5", rear 8.7"	391 pounds	34.3"	genuine high pipe
Honda Transalp 650 (1988)	front 7.9", rear 6.8"	421 pounds	33.1"	low pipe with bashplate
Yamaha TDM 850 (1992-3)	front 5.9", rear 5.24"	507 pounds	31.3"	low pipe with bashplate

The DL650 is pretty middle-of-the-road, compared to that group of competitors with moderate suspension travel and an unprotected low pipe and other fragile appendages (oil and water coolers, and a very low-mounted oil filter). However, it is insanely comfortable, particularly compared to the most dirt-worthy of the genre and it has that great Suzuki 650 twin motor. Obviously, the V-Strom is likely to be less adventurous than most of these bikes and more comfortable on pavement.

The riding position is ergonomic for an old, over-weight, short guy. While the bike is a little tall, making gear-loaded mounting a little difficult, the seat height allows for dangling my legs as a stretch position on long rides. This eases the pain on old, worn out knees and adds a few hundred miles to my daily long-distance capability. The slightly-forward dirt bike riding position is exactly the reason I traded in my SV650 for the DL650. Unlike every other bike I've owned, I'm not motivated to replace the Suzuki seat, although there are several alternatives that many riders say are terrific improvements.  I did change out the Suzuki handgrips, though. The thin, unpadded stock grips beat my hands up, just like they did on the SV. I opt for Owry road grips and wrestled with the resulting hassle that comes with replacing Suzuki grips.

The brake lever is adjustable from a very short reach to pro basketball player distances. The clutch pull is light and the clutch is strong and predictable. The brakes are the best I've ever experienced. I had a reason to "test" the emergency braking on the way home from Cincinnati and I wasn't disappointed. You can lock up the wheels, but with careful brake application you can easily and safely haul the bike down from high speed to full stop.

That low pipe and a 5.9" ground clearance and suspension travel is a concern. Unless my math skills have deteriorated, using up all of the suspension means that there is absolutely no extra ground clearance for that low pipe. The seat height is a little tall, for a guy like me with a 29" inseam, but I got along ok on the TDM and I'll probably survive the V-Strom. The suspension limits also spells problems for those who decide to lower the seat height by dropping the suspension. The stock rubber is a Bridgestone Trailwing semi-street, 19" front and 17" rear. I like the V-Strom's 19" front tire, on the grounds that it will roll over obstacles rather than smack into them, but that size proves to be a little odd for tire replacements.

I'm a little nervous about maintaining the fuel injection, but the older I get the less eager I am to tweak a pair of carbs. Fuel injection does mean that all my sophisticated cold weather fuel supply routines are history. Even at 5^oF, turn the key, hit the starter, and don't touch the throttle for effortless starting. The V-Strom's airbox has a large, flat filter and is moderately well protected from water, but since the intake is at the front of the box don't expect to make tank-deep water crossings without problems.

A piddling feature that I really like is the headlight flasher. It's handy for attracting the attention of vehicles in front of the bike, but it provides all kinds of possibilities for customizing (think "photon torpedo"). The electrics, in general are cool. For the first time in my motorcycling career, I have electronic fuel and temp gauges. The V-Strom has directional turn signal indicators on the instrument cluster, so I don't have to peer over the bars and through the levers and cables to see which way my flashers are flashing. The headlights are revolutionary, compared to everything I've owned to this point. Low beams light up the road better than the SV's brights. The high beams turn night into visible terrain.

A common complaint about the DL-650 is "helmet buffeting" due to the size and shape of the windshield. On my 800-mile trip home, wearing a Shoei X11 helmet, I didn't notice any such problem. When I got home, I occasionally wore a Schuberth flip-up which is in no way aerodynamic and is almost as noisy as wearing no helmet. With that fiberglass sail on my head, I immediately discovered what the complainers were complaining about.

All along the ride home, I was impressed by the V-Strom instrument panel's visibility and ergonomics. At night, it was even better. Without lighting as an excuse, I decided to try and make it home without a rest stop. At the end of 801 miles, I pulled into my driveway and dumped my gear and parked the bike the garage. I ate dinner, watched a movie with my wife, and went to bed. The next morning, my old aching neck problem reared its head, but I'd worn my courier bag the whole distance from Cincinnati to St. Paul and I think that was more the culprit than the V-Strom. The next day, I hung out with my grandkids, did yard work (more payback for the two days I wasn't home), and put in a normal day. Any disability displayed on Monday and thereafter was with me before the trip. I've done a couple of short, less than 100 miles, and the V-Strom is becoming a regular companion.

Years ago, our editor commented that the most "custom" Harley would be one that is bone stock, since every Harley buyer starts putting "custom" geegaws on the bike before it leaves the showroom, creating an odd definition of "stock" that is as personal and original as an Old Navy outfit. I think the V-Strom suffers that same affliction. Browsing the Internet's V-Strom user sites provides a reader with a long litany of items that are "necessary" to make the bike ride-able: crash bars and centerstands, windshields and windshield brackets, suspension modifications, luggage, foot pegs, GPS and other electronics, and all kinds of cosmetic hardware. The V-Strom seems to be a marketer's wet dream: it's a Harley, a KLR, and a Goldwing all rolled into one accessory-mounting vehicle. I think it's possible to double your investment on a new DL-650 with bells, whistles, farkles, carbon fiber, and polished aluminum. At the far end of the add-on spectrum might be Jim Winterer's Iron Butt V-Strom, with every bell, whistle, and long-distance, comfort-enhancement imaginable. I have, also, fallen victim to the "it needs more" trap. My list of "gotta have it" accessories is at the end of this review.

At 4,000 miles, the seat is just beginning to break in. I've tweaked some of the adjustable bits to make the little guy more comfortable for me. At the advice of Jim Winterer, I raised the forks 1/2". That seemed to quicken up the steering slightly. For my tastes, the suspension came set too tight. It's probably just right for sporty motorcycle reviewers, but I'm on this bike for long trips on rough roads. I dropped the rear shock pre-load and lowered the fork preload to the 4th notch. That made the bike's ride squishier and more practical for crappy Minnesota highways and my favorite gravel road surfaces. However, with full touring gear, I cranked up the spring load on both ends to the max.

Maintenance is something Suzuki actually thought about, including a tank prop and a fuel shutoff connector that allows easy removal of the tank for filter and plug changes, valve adjustments, and general motor access. Suzuki should have made a center stand a stock item to complete the serviceability of the bike, but they sell one as an accessory. Most everything you need to get at is accessible with a few standard metric tools by removing a few plastic bits and pulling the seat and tank.

For 2007, Suzuki has updated the WeeStrom's color scheme (gray or blue) and added an ABS brake option. Otherwise, the bike remains mostly the same vehicle that Suzuki introduced in 2004. The 2007 advertised list price is $6999 and $7199 for the ABS model.

Our editor once commented that the most "custom" Harley would be one that is bone stock. I think the V-Strom suffers that same affliction. Browsing the Internet's V-Strom user sites provides a reader with a long litany of items that are "necessary" to make the bike ride-able: crash bars and centerstands, windshields and windshield brackets, suspension modifications, luggage, foot pegs, GPS and cruise-controls and other electronics. The V-Strom seems to be an after-marketeer's wet dream: it's a Harley, a KLR, and a Goldwing all rolled into one accessory-mounting vehicle. I have fallen victim to the "it needs more" trap. My list of "gotta have it" accessories is still growing after a year of ownership.

Other than personal touches, the V-Strom was pretty much ready to ride long distances and rough roads out of the box. I can only say good things about how it held up riding across the western US states, Canada from Saskatchewan to the Northwest Territory, all around Alaska, down to Seattle, and back home on paved, semi-paved, and every non-paved kind of road I've ever imagined. Every day for 26 days and almost 10,000 miles, the V-Strom was problem-free and the most comfortable, dependable bike I've ever owned. The next year, I rode the V-Strom from Minnesota to Nova Scotia and back the longest way I could manage in 26 days. The addition of a Elka rear shock massively improved the handling and road-soaking characteristics. In 2009, I tortured the bike over 2500 miles of North Dakota backroads, including at least 600 miles of dirt roads. The V-Strom inspires confidence in both the machine's capability and reliability. I couldn't be more at home on a bike than I am on my WeeStrom. 

Suzuki V-Strom DL650 Accessories

Air FIlter

From my experience, this is a no-brainer. I replaced the stock filter with a K&N. I have had K&N filters in every vehicle I have owned since my 1973 Rickman 125 and my 1973 Toyota Hilux pickup. Call me "superstitious," but I think those filters have added something to the incredible reliability I've experienced in my vehicles. I don't consider a K&N filter an aftermarket "accessory." I think the lack of a K&N filter is simply an incompetent motorcycle design that has to be rectified before the bike is a reliable vehicle.

Hand Guards

First up for me was a set of Suzuki hand guards. There are several options for guarding your hands on the V-Strom, but I think the Suzuki solution is the easiest, most practical of the lot. Installation is simple, requires no mangling of the levers or brake reservoir and is easily removed or moved for servicing the brake, grips, and levers. The guards provide decent protection for the levers and excellent wind and flying projectile protection for your hands. They aren't as durable as Acerbis Rally Hand Guards, but the ease of installation and serviceability makes up for some loss in sturdiness.

Center Stand

My second necessary add-on was a center stand. Again, I went for the Suzuki stand because of price, quality, and availability. Installation of any aftermarket center stand is a life-threatening exercise and the Suzuki was no exception. All of the bolt-on parts installed easily and precisely, but hooking up the two stand springs was more garage-floor upper-body exercise than I've suffered in a while. Find a good pair of safety glasses before you even think about messing with those springs.  If you're going adventure touring, I don't know how you'll survive with a bike this heavy and no center stand. Fixing flats, doing regular maintenance (chain lubes, for example), parking securely with full luggage are all made possible by a center stand. Otherwise, plan on spending a lot of time looking for "just the right rock" in a pinch.

Windshield

While I wasn't convinced that the V-Strom's windshield was as worthless as some have claimed, I thought it could be better. Apparently, Suzuki does too. Suzuki offers a "tall windshield" (3" taller and 2 1/2" wider than stock) with a plastic wind deflector strip. First, I tried the Madstad bracket, which allows for a variety of height possibilities and a range of angles of deflection. It provided minimal improvement and not enough to make my Shuberth C1 helmet tolerable. So, I added the Suzuki tall shield to the Madstad (madstad.com) bracket. I have the tall shield set on the Madstad's highest setting, angled back as steeply as the bracket will allow. I now have a substantial "calm zone" behind the shield, considerably better weather protection, and a little less wind noise at the helmet. Honestly, when I'm wearing the Shoei X11 I don't notice any difference in noise or turbulence, but it's definitely noticeable when I'm wearing the Schuberth lid.

Pat Walsh Case (Crash) Guards

Finally, considering my general clumsiness, tendency toward exploring roads that are more technical than my abilities, and the expense of replacing body plastic, I installed Pat Walsh Design's Motor Guard (patwalshdesigns.com), which adds so many features to the V-Strom's frame (additional lights, oil filter guard, skid plate, highway pegs, etc) that a whole new industry of customization options becomes practical. If this thing came in chrome, Mr. Walsh would sell more Motor Guards than Suzuki sold V-Stroms. I've never used highway pegs, but I'm tempted now that I have a place to install them.

When I was looking into frame and plastic protection, I almost blew off the Motor Guard because it looked so massive, so I was surprised and happy, when the box arrived, to find that the shipping package was so light. It seems to be a lot of protection for a little additional weight.

Installation was fairly painless, considering the garage floor was about 10^oF when I installed the Motor Guard. The whole installation took about an hour and a half, including Locktite'ing every bolt and screw I was near during the installation. The all stainless steel hardware was a surprise bonus and the actual Motor Guard is heavy steel construction securely bolting to the DL's frame at the top and the front of the skid plate at the bottom. The skid plate is equally well secured The screened filter and oil cooler guard is additional gravel protection, but it may be a problem when the front tire fills the screen with mud.

Immediately after installing the Motor Guard, I carefully lowered the bike into the crash position in my driveway. The bike lies resting on the guard, barely past the plastic bodywork, and the handlebar ends. Motor Guards wouldn't save the bodywork in a high speed crash, but in a typical low-speed, off-road spill you might avoid having to replace a few hundred dollars in plastic. Getting the bike back up again takes all the leg strength I own and the Motor Guard gave me a wonderful handle for lifting the bike back onto the kickstand.

Afterward: My long term experience with the Walsh design has been complicated. Not long after installation, I spent a weekend at the MN-Sportbike group's Hedonistic-Enthusiasm cornering seminar. I found that the first sign of lost cornering clearance was when the bottom of the case guard touch ground, lifting the front wheel and putting the bike into a really hard to recover slide on the metal rails. I've since ground about 1/2 of the lowest section of the guard away on both sides. 

Seven thousand miles later and about 100 miles north of the Artic Circle, I really tested the crash guards with a crash. On the Dempster Highway, after a 350 mile day and a few dozen miles short of my destination (Fort McPherson, Northwest Territories), I found myself blown backwards on deep gravel. Somewhere between 45 and 55mph, the V-Strom hit the ground pointed exactly backwards from the direction we'd been traveling. The right side case guard took a beating, almost all of the paint was rashed off as the bike slid 50 feet down the road on its side. In the end, I lost the right turn signal, pulverized my right side case, bent my handlebars slightly, gouged up the right side tank panel, and banged up myself pretty well. A little duct tape on the turn signal and the side case and I was on my way back to Dawson City. The case guard and bashplate protected my bike from experiencing any serious damage. The case guard was pretty chewed up on the right side and the bashplate had started to collapse on itself, approaching the front of the exhaust pipe.

For my riding purposes, the biggest advantage provided by Walsh's design over the competition is the bashplate. The V-Strom's low, unprotected pipe and oil filter makes me nervous off pavement. I've already drilled a hole through an SV's oil filter on a long gravel road stretch and I expect to be doing a lot more of that kind of riding on the V-Strom. The bashplate is "secured" to the frame at the rear engine mounting bolts. Otherwise, the plate and crashguards are one structure. A run-in with some deep ruts in North Dakota caused the bashplate to collapse hard against the exhaust pipe. I'm sure that the plate protected the engine, but I need to do some serious metal work to put it all right again.

In trying to repair the plate, I "discovered" it is aluminum. I discovered that by burning a hole in it while trying to make repairs. I'm about  3/4 convinced that the lost cornering clearance makes this product more dangerous than helpful. I may be at the end of my test of the Walsh guards.

IMS Super Stock Foot Pegs (Part # 273116)

It took me a long time to figure out where to find these pegs. Nobody seems to make an off-road peg for the V-Strom. Fortunately, Suzuki and Kawasaki accidentally got together and made mounts that accept the same peg. Really fortunately, that foot peg is for the Kawasaki KLR650, one of the most common dual purpose bikes in history. In the package, they look a little large, but on the bike they provide an insanely solid platform for long range riding and for off-road grunge or hung-out cornering. After a week riding with the IMS pegs on my V-Strom, I couldn't imagine going back to the stock junk.

Stebel Nautilus Compact Dual-Tone 12-Volt Motorcycle Air Horn

The Stebel Nautilus horn is billed as a 139dB device, which doesn't mean a lot in the real world. For starters, it would be helpful to know where that 139dB is measured. At 1m directly to the side of the vehicle, I measured the output of my horn at 119dB, which is loud but a good distance from 139dB (subjectively, 119 would probably be sensed as about 1/4 of the acoustic "loudness" of 139dB).  Since sound pressure drops 6dB for every doubling of distance, the output of a horn becomes pretty mild at practical distances. With the typical noises available in moderate traffic, a horn is only a useful warning device at very near distances. There are contradicting opinions to this evaluation, but they have a financial vested interest.

Pat Hahn and I did some subjective tests and objective measurements when I installed this horn on my V-Strom to see what value a horn (or other noise sources, you loud pipes douchebags) added to a motorcycle's conspicuity. The results were depressing. (Unfortunately, the audio files linked on the Minnesota state's webpage only work with Microsoft's Explorer program.)

Installation is a bit of a pain. Since the horn draws nearly 15A inrush current, you'll need a horn relay. Wiring the horn to your original horn harness will result in a burned-out horn switch. 15A is 4-8X the inrush current of a typical bike horn. Don't skip on the in-line fuse installation, either. A short in that wiring could result in a bike fire, which will definitely draw attention to your motorcycle but that probably won't be all that helpful.

However, the Stebel horn is a bit louder than the stock horn. The pitch of the dual-tone horn is lower and larger sounding, which might convince a braindead cager to give a motorcyclist a glance before violating right-of-way. Anything might help in a crisis. Unless you are right on top of the cage, don't expect the loudest horn to save your ass.

Motorcycle Review: Hyosung GV650/Avitar

All Rights Reserved © 2008 Thomas W. Day

While I was waiting for Garceau's to finish prepping the bike, I walked around the shop and looked at the Hyosung (pronounced "Yo-sung" or "Why-oh-sung") models on their showroom floor. I knew I'd be reviewing the 650, but the bike that really attracted my attention was the GT250 Comet. The Hyosung models use a lot of common parts and the 250 models are not "little bikes," they just have small motors. However, when Jim Debilzan rolled out the 650 Avitar, my heart sunk. Unknown to me, Hyosung makes a cruiser and I would be testing it.

Years ago, a friend was visiting our home and my wife was trying to feed him. She'd made some guacamole dip and salsa and she was shoving it at him, assuming that everyone loved guacamole. He took a scoop and tasted it. Then he said, "I hate avocado, but this is pretty good for what it is." The Hyosung GV650/Avitar is my guacamole. No matter how well this bike was designed and assembled, there was no chance I would like it. I've ridden a bunch of cruisers. The best I can say about any of them is that they were equally unpleasant, "I don't like cruisers, but it's pretty good for a cruiser." I would, honestly, rather ride a mountain bike. With that in mind, off we go.

The Avitar looks a lot like a V-Rod. Two people, both opinions more diverse than mine, said, "It's pretty." The Avitar's function follows its form and "pretty" is not mine to judge. The bike feels large, partially because rider's position perspective is set by the wide tank (4.5 gallons), the chrome tank treatment, and the wide bars. The Avitar is long (95.6", stem to stern); with a 66.9" wheelbase. In town, the long wheelbase provides a huge turning radius. To get out of a parking space, I made several maneuvers for every one I'd need on my V-Strom.

The footpegs are way out in front, but they can be brought in a couple of inches. Moving the pegs to the "short" position wouldn't have done anything for me. If my feet aren't under my butt, they aren't where they belong. I had to fold myself almost in half to find a posture that worked. The seat height is a low 31". The seating positions appear to be designed for a fairly tall rider and an incredibly short passenger. The right passenger peg is directly over and uncomfortably close to the muffler. The footpegs touch ground easily in twisties and I can't move from the center of the seat to do much about the cornering ground clearance.`

The electronic console contains a lot of information: speedo, odometer, two trip odometers, fuel and temperature bar gauges, and idiot lights. The "Select" and "Reset" buttons are small and hard to engage with gloves. The right-and-left turn indicators could be easy to ignore. The ignition key is on the right side of the tank and is almost guaranteed to be sheared off in a parking incident.

From the rear of the bike, the brake light (ten high intensity LEDs) is insanely visible.  The small, close-in turn signals (front and rear) may be too subtle to be noticed. The single round headlamp provides old fashioned illumination with hot spots near the bike and diffuse light a couple dozen feet out.

For maintenance, the tank props up on an included stay, so air filter servicing can be done with the tank in place. The toolkit and owner’s manual are stored under the seat. The seat only requires the removal of a single screw at the back of the seat. The battery is under the seat along with the tank prop and owners' manual. Idle adjustment is easily accessible from the rider’s seated position. The oil change interval is 6,000km (about 3,700 miles) and Hyosung recommends the valve clearances be inspected at that same interval. The bike has an oil filter (on the right side case) and an oil strainer (near the drain plug).

The steel tube frame is rigid enough to provide a stable, confident ride on pavement. The seat and feet-forward position puts a lot of responsibility on the suspension, though. The 43mm upside-down forks have “H-to-S” damping adjustment, but the old-fashioned dual shock rear suspension only allows for spring loading adjustment. Both ends are short travel, which accounts for the low seat height and harsh ride. Vibration is moderate, especially considering the cruiser short-travel suspension. The fact that the mirrors provide a stable rearview image at all speeds proves that the bike is relatively vibration-free. The stock tires are Bridgestone Battleax BT54 radials. The double disk front, single disk rear brakes work, but you don't have to worry about using too much pressure because the brakes are far from aggressive. I couldn't apply enough front brake to approach breaking the front wheel loose.

Hyosung claims 71hp at the rear wheel and my ride gave me no reason to doubt it. The Avitar does not have a tach, so I don't really know where "bottom" is, but the motor pulls strongly from low-midband up. The dual 39mm Mikuni carbs provide enough fuel to the 81.5 x 62mm 647cc V-
2 to give the bike a solid 50mph 5th gear roll-on and plenty of passing power. The Avitar's mild but macho exhaust note, turns into a snarl when you get on the gas. People who appreciate that kind of thing commented that it "sounds cool." At 55, with a constant throttle, I noticed a bit of hesitation that almost felt like fuel starvation. That reappeared any time I was in that RPM range with steady throttle. In my 135 mile test ride, I averaged 40mpg; not great but not bad.

Ten miles from home my hands were tingling, my butt was sore, and I still can’t figure out why my feet are sticking out in front of the rest of me. Usually, I'm good for 100-150 miles between rest stops. Today, 20 miles and I'm ready to look at scenery, on foot. Those aren’t Hyosung complaints, those are cruiser complaints. At 70mph, the wind is trying to blow my feet from the pegs and me from the seat. I'm dangling from the bars. In this seating position, 55mph feels fast and 70 feels out of control. My friend on the Yamaha TDM thinks this is a great road. Every bump, crack, and ripple in the highway drives my tailbone into the middle of my spine. The historic twin-shock rear suspension, long wheelbase and sluggish steering turns some of my favorite letter-roads into work. At about 250 miles, the clutch began making a squawking noise on cold starts and it would grab and lunge forward. That reappeared once in slow moving traffic, when the bike was a little hot. The 5-speed transmission is predictable and well-spaced and shifting is as smooth as you'd expect from a long linkage mechanism. The “poly chain belt” drive, as usual for the genre, sucks up some transmission shock but it isn't elastic enough to disguise some transmission lash.

The GV650 has lots of chrome: engine cases, monster pipe, fork bits, and all of the places cruiser owner's like chrome. The engine case chrome is a little heavy looking, like plastic model plating. The welds, paint, chrome, fit and finish all look up to modern standards, although the finish on the top side of the swingarm was a little crude. Generally, the Avitar looks well built for the price ($6,299 MSRP).

Competition in this style and engine size is fierce. The Avitar is priced $100 above Yamaha's V-Star Classic and $200 over the Custom and Suzuki's Boulevard. The Honda Shadow VLX is $400-800 less expensive than the GV650 and Kawasaki's Vulcan 500 LTD is $1100 cheaper. The Harley Sportster 883 is $400 above the asking price for the Hyosung. It will be hard to make a dent in this market without a substantial cost advantage over the more established competition.

Postscript: This review generated more flame-mail than anything I've done in the last decade. I must have been right, because some of the mail came from owners who claimed I'd devalued their "investment" by describing its faults and failures. In retrospect, I only wish I had been more blunt in my dislike for the Avitar. Even more, the overreaction by the manufacturer and dealer to my exposing the bike's terrible reliability and incompetent design demonstrates exactly how a consumer will be treated with similar complaints. It is, without question, a POS motorcycle that is overpriced, poorly designed and more miserably executed, and belongs in the "cheap Chinese shit" category of motorcycles.

Some Guys Will Whine about Anything

It's true. Even a gift horse can be a pain in the ass. When I was a kid, I dreamed about doing the things I do everyday now. I hid and slept under a crappy desk in a western Kansas 4-track recording studio just to be there when the band came the next day, so I could pretend to be a studio employee to the band and a member of the band to the studio owner. My plan was to find a way to make myself useful and become a recording engineer. The studio owner wasn't fooled and he always immediately tossed me out. I quit that dodge when I was 15 or 16, since I was in a real band by then and could get into studios legitimately, sort of.

Now, I not only have the run of a number of recording studios, but my day gig is teaching others how to work in studios. A big part of the teaching gig is getting to play with incredibly expensive recording equipment in facilities that I had a big hand in designing. Some days I whine about having to go to work.

Thursday night, I picked up a brand new Kawasaki Versys 650 and was told to ride it for at least 400 miles and report on what I thought of the bike. On top of that, I will get paid for riding someone else’s bike for a day. Yep, I can whine about that, too.

The night I picked up the bike, it was slightly over 70F. I put in 50 quick miles north of the cities and went home after a long day. The next day was an even longer day at work and I came home nursing a flu and hurting everywhere. Saturday morning, I woke up creaking like a rusty door hinge. My sinuses had been jammed all night, my throat was sore, my eyes were dripping like British Columbian waterfalls. I had a bike to ride and the day’s high temperature would be somewhere around 50, but it was 39F when I hit the road that morning.

I was wrapped up like an Eskimo mummy, bagged from head to toe in Aerostich gear, helmet, boots, double sock, and long underwear. I was still shivering, even though I could hardly move in my gear. Without being able to fire up my new heated vest, I was back in the stone age of basic insulation, high on decongestants and coffee, and on the edge of mutiny. But I volunteered to do 400 miles this weekend and I was damned if I’d back out. I half-hoped I’d die trying, though. I practically filled my helmet with snot and every stop required a song-and-dance of pulling off gear to get to my snot rag and emptying my head of half of my bodily fluids.

You can read about the Versys in next month’s MMM, but suffice to say if it had been a Hyosung I’d have ridden the damn thing into a river and hitched a ride home after 100 miles or less. It’s a testament to Kawasaki’s engineers that I kept at it and even enjoyed the riding part of the day.

Tonight I’m reaping the rewards of ignoring my body’s powerful “stay in bed” signals. I may never breathe through my nose again. I’ve practically twisted the damn appendage from my face, wiping it with every soft cloth in the house. My knees are killing me, my back needs a rack and a bed of nails to relieve me of the pain, and my eyes are being pushed out of my skull by my sinuses. If I can work my way back to “weepy” I’ll feel almost human.

Along the way, I realized that I have settled into “old man’s disease.” Instead of being thrilled to be riding something new, I was a little discomforted by not being on my own familiar, personalized, convenient, well-suited for my style and body V-Strom. I’ve never been particularly envious of the possessions of others, but I’m taking that lack of competiveness beyond healthy and into “if it’s not my bed, I can’t sleep in it.”

Which, by the way, is also true. I absolutely can not sleep in hotel/motel beds.

I’ve made my V-Strom so much my bike that anything else is likely to be uncomfortably unfamiliar. I have places to store stuff, places hide from weather, all of the emergency gear I ever need, and grips, a seat, bars, and other geegaws to make me feel at home. This is probably the bike I’ll own for the rest of my life, not that I expect that to be saying much.