Hi all. I had a really good adventure on my WRR I thought I should report.
I’d like to point out two important facts: First, I’m not a very good WRR owner; I crash quite a bit, lack any advanced maintenance skills and just generally make bad decisions. Second is I’m not a very good online/forum/bloggy type. I read quite a bit here…in fact it’s some of your fault I bought this bike. I don’t however keep a blog or really enjoy posting much; but I thank those that do.
Anyway I read about a lot of people still indecisive about the WRRs capability as a long-distance touring platform, so I figured I should pipe in with my experience. The short answer is “it’s a great long-distance tourer”. The long answer follows:
In December of 2009, I purchased a 2008 WRR. After spending 2 weeks or so bolting various things I thought I needed on, I loaded it into a minivan and had my brother drive me down to Kansas (we had just had a pretty bad storm in MN and everything was iced up). In the parking lot of a cheap motel at 5 in the morning we reassembled it, packed all my luggage on and, for the first time (discounting the two times I tried to ride down an icy street for 50ft) I rode my WRR. I headed south to my friend in Texas, where we made some racks and sorted the whole of it out. On Jan 17, 2010 I crossed the border to Mexico, and kept going until I made it to Ushuaia, the southern-most city in the world, on the southern tip of South America. I then turned around and went back up, crossing every country in South America. The trip totaled about 30,000 miles up until last November, when I rather settled down and stayed put in Colombia, where I remained up until a few weeks ago.
Here's a crappy map of my travel route (more or less)
Here’s what I added to my stock (except for some Pro-Taper fat bars) bike:
Mods I decided against any performance mods, as I wasn’t really comfortable screwing with it in the limited time frame I had. Aftermarket parts are as follows:
- Safari fuel tank
- GPR steering damper
- Flatland bash plate
Luggage I decided to go with soft luggage, as its cheaper, lighter, safer (no catching your leg in a crash), and frankly I wasn’t too worried about security, and I never had a problem with them.
- Happy trails Side rack
- Wolfman saddlebags
- Wolfman duffel
- Wolfman tank bags (mounted under seat)
- With the help of some friends I made two racks from steel; 1 mounted right above the headlight to hold a tire-repair kit, the other mounted on top of the Happy Trails side racks, sitting about 1 inch above the tail, which I set the duffel bag on top of.
- This bike was overloaded according to most posts I read. I generally had at least 60 lbs of crap in the duffel and saddlebags.
Extras- Rotopak 1 Gal fuel pack, mounted on a strip of steel bolted on the inside of the Happy Trails rack. This setup worked perfectly, although sadly the steel strip finally broke while crossing the amazon, and the fuel pack tumbled off the road; being heartbroken (and needing the fuel) I backtracked to look for the fuel tank, but it was green and, well, so is the jungle, so that didn’t end happily.
- I bolted a home depot welding rod container to the bash plate to hold tools. This worked great until I was sideswiped in Venezuela and it exploded on the highway. Still a good idea though.
- Cheap heated grips. The “high” setting had unfortunately stopped working by the time I made it into Patagonia and really needed it. May have been my shoddy electrical work.
- Beaver 3CS whatever thingy to connect all the electric crap. Again my soldering sucks.
- I attached a small piece of lexan to the headlight to prevent it from exploding somewhere bad due to an impact. It worked well and was only a few bucks at home depot.
Benefits:I have to say overall it was a fantastic bike. I rode with a buddy on an 1150GSA (met on the boat crossing from Panama-Colombia). On the Pan-American he probably didn’t fully appreciate waiting on me (I’d top out at about 70’ish MPH, not for full lack of power, but it just didn’t feel good going faster than that with all that crap strapped on her). Likewise while crossing the Andes a few times; the 250 (already a bit choked up according to most smart-sounding peoples’ post) was hungry for air at 13-16,000 feet, and didn’t have the extra power I could have used to get through some of the sandy/silty areas of the Altiplano and Bolivia. Though to my friends’ credit, he never ditched me.
Where the bike came into its own was in the nastier terrain (albeit at lower elevation), storage (not to be underestimated), and the cities.
Once I left La Paz, Bolivia for the Amazon Basin, I was continuously impressed with her. One of the main worries I remember reading about the bike was the strength of the sub-frame and its ability to carry weight. I’ll shed what light I can on this here:
Some parts of the trip (specifically BR319 – google it) required 4 Gallons of extra fuel (to be a bit on the safe side), and 4 Gallons of water; clearing 60 lbs. of liquid weight strapped to my already loaded rear luggage rack. The road was real rough, and I ended up getting a bit of a dent in my front rim, and losing my Rotopak fuel container, but the bike held up great. Likewise crossing the stretch from San Pedro de Atacama, Chile to Uyuni, Bolivia required a good load of extra fuel and water. Much of that road was corrugated “washboard” gravel road, and I constantly apologized to her while I waited for the sub-frame to explode from the stress, but there was never an issue.
A great benefit of the bike is its storability (for lack of a better term). What I mean is the ability to park almost anywhere. One of the near-universal recommendations for motorcycle travel in Latin America, or anywhere, is that you should really never park the bike outside, unguarded overnight. There were many nights she stayed in my $5 motel room, firmly wedged between the concrete wall and my “you really don’t want to see this in the daylight” mattress.
Once up in the jungle, I was loading/unloading her on ferries or boats of various sizes quite regularly. The light weight and smaller size of the bike (although still big compared to the local bikes) really facilitated this process.
If you plan on spending any significant amount of time in a city, you’d do well to consider the abilities a smaller bike has there. Navigating Latin American cities is less “congested traffic” and more “vehicular combat”. Once I popped the side bags and my duffel off the back, the bike had a level of maneuverability through the city that always brought a smile to my face.
Issues: She held together better than I could have ever expected, but not without some issues. Back in July she stopped wanting to start. After a few days of jiggling and tightening things she fired back up (the main culprit I believe was the heated grips spliced into the taillight wire). A few months later in Colombia I had the same issue. A local mechanic took less than 10 minutes to pop off the handgrip control, clean the crud off the starter button switch, and fix problem (the Amazon has a tendency to make you drop your bike and get muddy more than you may like).
The main problem came after ingesting some water through the Safari tank cap for the second time. I lost a ton of vacuum pressure and she wasn’t firing up, so again to a mechanic in Colombia. After disassembling the motor, we noticed the piston was in pretty bad shape, and the rings needed to be replaced. The mechanic said it was quite common there on account of the lack of fuel quality. There were plenty of times I filled up on gas of questionable quality; at best out of a barrel, bucket or bottle, and twice out of a bag. This didn’t really surprise me. After 30,000 miles she needed a $25 set of piston rings, and while we’re at it might as well get a new piston thrown in for $65.
The problem was the piston was backordered. Not much of a problem as I had an apartment and wasn’t looking to leave town anytime soon, but then a job came through and I had to head out pretty quick, and was left with the unenviable position of determining my baby’s fate. I decided to leave it at the shop (incredibly friendly owner), and am in the process of sending the parts. Once fixed, a friend will come pick it up and store her in his garage until a later date when I have a better plan. I think. (This was mostly worked out in Spanish, so who the hell knows for sure)
Some final thoughts: I ran into a lot of travelers on a lot of different bikes, and all of them were having a blast. All of them have slightly different capabilities and drawbacks. I never found myself wanting to go much faster than I could, though some more power would have come in useful at altitude. I can say assuredly say that I would take the WR on any trip over the older KLR, as that’s the only other Dual-sport bike I’ve had experience traveling on.
As I sit back now contemplating future travels, that ‘Round the World ride keeps cropping back into view. It will require another look at the field of options available at the time (if I ever get the chance), but the WR remains a top candidate for that trip. If you can pack semi-light, she’ll take you as far as you want to go.
I imagine most people considering the WR are not trying to decide between the WR and a 1200 GS. Like I was, you’re probably looking at the KLR, F650GS, DR650, V-Strom 650 etc. My first advice is to relax…they’re all pretty good options. Next, figure out what kind of traveling you want to do and how much crap you’re going to bring. If you’re not bringing half your wardrobe, you should see if you can’t take the WR for a spin to see if it will work for you. If you like the bike, but are wondering whether she can pull off longer distance adventure travel, well, that’s why I wrote this…she can. You should buy it and begin your adventure immediately.
Loading onto the sailboat in Panama. The guy in the thong is Fritz, the German Captain of "Fritz the Cat"
Hoisting her aboard the valiant sailing vessel.
Here is the "kinda" secure lashing of the bike on the side of the boat.
Ruta 40 in Argentina. Really boring. As soon as possible, we left to take the Carretera Austral south.
Southern Chile; the best camping of the trip. This was on the Carretera Austral, a much better route to take over Ruta 40. Please disregard my fancy raincoat.
Chaiten, Southern Chile. The volcano (in the background) had erupted in late 2008, and the ash fallout had diverted the river through the center of town. It was evacuated, and still still remains largely unoccupied save for some horses.
Torres del Paine, Chile.
Tierra del Fuego National Park. The end of the road south. We hit Ushuaia on the 18th of April, a bit later than preferred. Note: the WRR does not handle very well on roads covered in ice.
The border crossing from Chile to Bolivia
Refueling in Southern Bolivia. Altitude here was approximately 5300 Meters ASL.
My empty fuel containers after the stretch to Uyuni, Bolivia
Taking a break on the road to Uyuni.
My friend Ben looking for a good place to cross this puddle, on the way to Uyuni.
The Salar de Uyuni, Bolivia
Potosi, Bolivia; the highest city in the world.
Silty road through the mountains in Bolivia.
The "Highway of Death" in Bolivia. I'm the guy going really slow in center frame. Stunningly beautiful but the danger is a bit overblown; they put in a new road a few years ago so the only traffic on this stretch is tourists on mountain bikes, so you can really slow down. Once you get a bit north the roads merge, the tourists disappear, and life gets interesting.
Descending from the Yungas mountains in Bolivia to the Amazon basin. Incredibly beautiful, but the traffic made things precarious at times. Any vehicle would kick up the dust and visibility would really drop. The rules would also change regarding which side of the road you should drive on, depending on the area, which was not marked or otherwise signaled.
They're burning down most of the Amazon along the road in northern Bolivia. A thick coat of ash on the road made things really slippery, and constant smoke made visibility and breathing difficult.
Goodbye Amazon
Unlucky
Just after starting the BR319 I had a front flat. This family was friendly enough to let me change it out in the shade of their hut.
BR319, through the Brazilian Amazon. As light as the bike is, picking it up when sucked down into the mud is taxing work under the heat of the mid-day sun. Lost a few pounds here. Mud does make for comfy crashing though!
Cell towers along the road were my Holiday Inns along the BR319
The many bridges along BR319 required a bit of dismounting and field repair to be safe(r).
Getting cleaned up and cooled off. It took 3 days to do the 600 odd Kilometers of this stretch. Frequent breaks were necessary to cool off and rehydrate.
These were pretty tough to see until you were almost no top of them, and if hit unprepared, would really wake you up.
Try not to have a schedule when going through the Amazon, as washouts like this happen frequently. The Brazilian Army came out and fixed it within the day, and even brought lunch for all of us! Obrigado!
Army vehicle about to go over during the repair.
Tne end of BR319 is paved, but prone to sizable potholes.
One of the many river crossings. Brazil.
On a slow barge crossing. It was really hot, and the tugboat pilot jumped out and swam alongside to stay cool. I was tempted, but had all my crap on.
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