Back To the Previous Future
Back to the Previous Future
LEANINGS
Peter Egan
A WORD OF ADVICE TO PEOPLE WITH BAD backs: After loading three heavy garbage cans into your van, don’t ever bend over to pet your shortest dog. That way, you won’t spend a full week lying on the sofa, drinking “meals” through a bent straw provided by your saintly wife.
Yes, I threw my back out again last summer, big time. This has happened about every six years since 1972.
That was the year I carried a freshly rebuilt 948cc Austin-Healey Sprite engine from our kitchen table down a flight of stairs and out to the garage, right after unloading a semi full of 40-foot rain gutter sections at work. That evening, I innocently bent over to place an Allman Brothers album (Eat a Peach) on the turntable and suddenly found myself in a white room with many humorous get-well cards taped to the wall and a drip-feed of Demerol in my arm.
I’m told spies use this stuff as truth serum. But if there’s one thing you don’t want to hear out of me, it’s The Truth. My relatives are still mad. Especially the ones who liked Nixon.
Anyway, the old back demon struck again a few months ago, and I lost three good weeks of summer riding. I’m back on bikes now, but things are still a little edgy, and I have quickly discovered that some bikes feel a lot better than others.
Essentially, adventure-tourers and standards still feel all right, but anything with a long stretch to a low set of handlebars is a killer. I took three weekend rides on my Ducati ST4S this fall and returned from each one with my back all stove in. These days, I’m good for about an hour in the sport-bike position, but not much more.
So, of course, I did what any logical person would do in a situation like this and used this chronic discomfort as a perfectly plausible excuse to get a different bike. Two weeks ago, I traded my ST4S in on another black KTM 950 Adventure.
Yes, another one.
I bought my first KTM 950 in the spring of 2004 and got in one good summer of riding before a friend crashed it. His knee was badly injured, and the bike was written off by the insurance company.
That winter, I thought about replacing it with another KTM but prices had gone up nearly $2000, and I got dazzled and distracted by a clearance-sale deal on the ST4S. One of my favorite bikes-splendid chassis and that incomparable 996 engine. As mentioned, however, this did not work out very well, ergonomically speaking, and buying it was probably a mistake in my advanced state of decrepitude.
Also, to be perfectly honest, I missed that KTM.
Why?
Well, I’ll go way out on a limb here and say it’s the most fun motorcycle I’ve ever owned.
I can’t tell you exactly why that is. Probably a subtle combination of light weight, narrowness, agility, off-beat good looks and an ideal (for me) riding position. It also has a light clutch, buttery gearbox and a smooth, charismatic engine with flawless throttle response and a big hit of power when you roll it on. This thing gives you the sensation of positively roosting across the countryside, like a mutant atomic locust with a big appetite. Mix all these things together, and you end up riding around with your endorphin-releasing neurons humming like a Lincoln arc welder. I never get tired of riding this bike.
Especially now. As of 2005, KTM drastically improved the seat shape and-with a small reduction in suspension heightlowered the saddle nearly 2 inches. Doesn’t sound like much, but it makes a big difference at your lower pratfall speeds.
If the 950 is a dynamic marvel, of course, it still comes with a few caveats. For a motorcycle that generates a lot of speed, it has somewhat tall and narrow dual-
purpose tires. These allow it to work better than other big trahies off-road, but the bike doesn’t like demon late trailbraking on pavement. Neither will you, unless you’re a skilled supennoto type or have completely lost your instinct for self-preservation.
The big KTM also stuffs a lot of technology into a very light and compact package, so maintenance is not simple. Both gas tanks have to come off for oil and filter changes, and the instructions read like something from an F-14 repair manual. Clear, but daunting.
Reliability has also been a bit spotty-if Internet chat rooms are to be believed-with the random water pump or starter clutch problems. I know a few guys who’ve had trouble, but the dealer has cheerfully fixed everything under warranty and the owners are still happy with their bikes.
More than happy. You might say there’s almost a cult/evangelist fervor at work here.
Last summer, in fact, I happened to meet a very nice young couple-both school teachers-at a roadside stop in the Great Smoky Mountains. They were riding twoup on a black 2004 KTM 950, just like my first one.
“Nice bike,” I said.
The man smiled and nodded. “I love this thing...and...actually..he admitted, “I’ve got two of them.” He glanced at his wife, who looked back without a trace of disapproval.
“Two KTM 950 Adventures? Why two?”
“Sometimes,” he said, after a moment of reflection, “you find something that suits you perfectly, and you know they aren’t going to make it forever... You’ll look for another one someday, and there won’t be any.”
I’m sorry to say I understood this concept completely. I’ve had shoes and blue jeans like this, but-so far-no duplicate bikes on standby.
Nevertheless, as we stood by the road and chatted, I stared at that black KTM and had one of those moments where the decision-making gears in your brain suddenly mesh, locking into place with a nearly audible clank, and I knew, right then, I’d eventually be getting another 950 Adventure.
Maybe my brain threw my back out. Though that may be giving it too much credit. U
