The Klr Chronicles

THE KLR CHRONICLES

Twenty years with the Luddite's dream bike

Geoff Drake

Kawasaki KLRs, like Volkswagen Beetles, are the preferred vehicles of the great unwashed. Pragmatic transportation known to withstand prolonged and callous thrashing. Tens of thousands of these cheap and basic machines have been produced since being introduced as the KLR600 in 1984.

Displacement was upped to 650cc in 1987. There was a host of small changes for the 1996 model year, but otherwise the vaunted KLR went unaltered for two decades.

Until the introduction of the 2008 version, the only significant change to excite the KLR faithful in recent years was a switch to red paint.

Despite its modest spec sheet, the old KLR is capable of prodigious work and mileage, and is a common choice for aroundthe-world trips, harrowing ventures into rebellious territories, and even more harrowing trips to the corner store in Anytown, USA.

KLRs are the favored mode of escape among disaffected 40somethings who have little money or time but a strong desire to be elsewhere. Anywhere. The bikes serve as escape hatches for people who find themselves caught up in the great tide of commerce and civilization, all heading in one direction. Astride a KLR, they suddenly dart from the pack, stop bathing, visit places no one has heard of in horrific weather, probably fall down a few times, eat bad food or none at all, scorn telephones, experiment with facial hair.. .and generally have the time of their lives.

At any time, a dozen KLRs are available on eBay for under $4000. Entire companies have devoted themselves to aftermarket parts for the utilitarian bike, and Internet forums hum and chatter deep into the night exchanging half-truths about KLR adventures and “high-performance” modifications.

With dual-sport tires, the KLR is a capable commuter. With knobbies, it can be horsewhipped into amazing off-road antics, despite its weight and limited suspension travel (by contemporary standards). Even the cockpit is decidedly pedestrian and looks as if a designer abandoned the job halfway through, leaving a tangle of exposed wires and pot-metal brackets behind the diminutive fairing. As if to accentuate its utilitarian origins, the KLR’s predominant color has been a sickening pea green.

Being a Thumper, and despite the existence of a counterbalancer, the KLR generates enough vibration to register on Richter scales nationwide, rendering mirror images into some sem-

blance of a bad trip from college days. Common modifications include upgrades to the anemic single-rotor front brake, lights, racks and, most of all, lots of brackets and sheetmetal to protect vital organs from the inevitable effects of bad riding and gravity. This includes guards for the water pump, radiator, lights, rear master cylinder, crankcase and muffler. A full complement of such protection adds quite a few pounds, thus ensuring its own usefulness in the event of a crash.

the event of a crash.

A traditional rite of passage for any KLR owner is to replace the counterbalancer chain tensioner, affectionately known as the “Doohickey.” Rumor has it that the Doohickey is the Achilles heel in this anvil of a motor-the tiny, fan-shaped item can apparently break with catastrophic results (envision a thumbnail-size piece of metal adrift in the crankcase).

Frankly, I’m not so sure that Doohickeys carry the grave consequences that have been attributed to them. But they are an integral part of KLR lore, rippling across blogs until they have acquired significance out of all proportion to their actual mechanical importance.

When I survey the bikes in my garage, I find I choose the KLR more and more often. I enjoy the sit-up-and-grin riding position and the languid feel of the bike. But there’s another reason the KLR is so enjoyable: It never laughs at me. There is nothing about it that says Go faster, you wimp. Lean farther. Accelerate harder.

Fact is, the KLR offers the singular pleasure of enforced slowness. There are no challenges to my supposed manhood. I go slow. I look around. I am happy.

I think most classic-bike riders and many cruiser enthusiasts appreciate their machines for the same reason. When it comes to riding prowess, we are collective underachievers. Things like a 7000-rpm rev limit, wimpy brakes and skinny tires have a way of tempering one’s exuberance. Kind of like a longtime friend who keeps you from doing the tequila shots before you end up with a lampshade on your head or in jail. It’s for your own good.

Hey, we all like to ride on the edge of our envelopes. It’s just that many of us have elected to reduce the size of the stationary. The KLR, a Luddite’s dream if ever there was one, will do this for you. -Geoff Drake