Suzuki DR 650R / S

Dual Sport Shootout

Kawasaki KLR 650, KLR Tengai, Suzuki DR350S, DR650S and Yamaha XT600E

In the beginning, there were no sport bikes, no two-wheeled luxury land I yachts, no cruisers or sport-tourers. There were only motorcycles, and that was good. In the beginning, motorcycling was defined by riders, not motorcycles or marketing departments. By bolting on this or unbolting that, you might tour, bash around the dirt or dice up a country road all on the same bike. Then the marketers went to work. And before you could say "focus group," there were supersports and tour boats and trials bikes and cruisers. No complaints, we got what we asked for.

Trouble is sport bikes don't tour and tour bikes don't dance. Today, the eclectic motorcyclist needs to be adopted by the Rothchilds and build a big garage, work at a motorcycle magazine or find one bike for all reasons. Tougher done than said you say? Well, just as the cry goes up for revival of standard motorcycles, motorcycles that are good at everything rather than great at one thing, we respectfully submit that you're looking at the solution. Though they come from a niche that seems initially too narrow to generate mass appeal, dual-sports are the new standards.

Think about it. You want a commuter? A tourer? A sport bike? A sport-tourer? A weekend escape module, perhaps? How about an off-road explorer? An inner-city errand runner? How about a little of each? Though there is some functional polarization in even the broadest of motorcycling's categories, unless you're an A enduro rider, an Iron Butt competitor or a professional roadracer, any bike here is up for about anything you are. Because they're bigger, heavier and more of a handful once the pavement peters out, we singled out the dual-sport twins for another day. The 250 singles dropped out because they would have been wheezing on the shoulder trying to keep up.

That would have left us with six bikes, but Yamaha decided to keep its XT350 out of the fray, preferring we concentrate on its new XT600. When the word went out, Suzuki sent us one DR350S and one DR650S. Once Kawasaki dropped off a KLR650 and a Tengai, we were ready to roll.

MEAN STREETS
You're in Hollywood. It's 8 a.m., and the metro-rail tunnel is burning out of control. You need to be downtown in 30 minutes, and traffic is packed tighter than Oprah Winfrey in a size six. Yamaha's revamped XT600 attacks the belly of the beast with near surgical precision. Soft suspension absorbs everything from speed bumps to potholes, and steering is the quickest and easiest of the big bores.

The XT is the sweetest deal of this group in the city. Perfect fuel metering through the dual-throat carb and rheostat power delivery (if not a lot of it by big-bore standards) put it ahead of the rest. The lowest seat of the bunch lets most pilots who have a hard time with the taller bikes plant both boots flat on the tarmac. The new dual-piston Nissin front caliper stops hard enough when a four-wheeler swerves in front of you and cuts you off. A gray grab handle on the XT's rear fender doubles as a spot to strap workday essentials.

Though it's more visually appealing than the purpose-built racks fitted to the KLR, Tengai and DR650, it's only rated for 7 pounds: barely enough to haul Dexter's lunch.

By comparison, the smaller, lighter DR350 feels like a bicycle. Steering is ridiculously easy, almost too easy. Rider stepping down from bigger, bulkier rigs invariably fed in too much steering effort at first, nearly making some special friends whilst splitting lanes. Set stock, the suspension is hopelessly soft for anyone over 160 pounds. We set it near full stiff, even for city work. Nothing is better at squeezing through tight spots.

The DR350's power output is relatively modest by modern street standards, but with six well-spaced ratios and an unbreakable clutch, besting four-wheel traffic is still easy. Taking any baggage along for the ride isn't so simple since the 350 doesn't have a luggage rack. Kicking the little DR to life is easy as long as you follow the drill. From cold, engage full choke, press down the compression-release lever and kick through slowly. When the lever clicks up, poise the kick lever at the top of its stroke and apply healthy boot. Once is usually enough if you follow the rules, more if you don't. Still, editors spoiled by a steady diet of electric starters whined every time they drew the 350.

The prospect of kickstarting the DR650 induced glassy eyes, slurred speech and a sudden interest in the rest room for those same snivelers. It's rarely more than a two-kick proposition once you master the drill, but limp-legged street types whined anyway. Following the same drill, the 650 requires little more effort than its little brother. But it's tough to perfect the routine when you're stuck in the middle of an intersection with a flogged right leg and a flooded engine, tougher still with a four-alarm fire engine closing fast. Hot starts can be tricky if you don't get it right the first time.

The big Suzuki is also exceedingly tall. Our test unit wandered a bit at a walking pace, and a lean stumble off idle made snail-pacing through clogged cars a bit tricky. The valve train on our bike clattered like mechanical Armageddon was eminent from the day the bike was delivered, but nothing worse than noise ever materialized. Power delivery was perfect; Suzuki's 650 packs the strongest punch here at anything above idle. The stoppers are up to the task as well; the big DR's brakes are the best here.

Aside from the fact that the Tengai sits a little lower and its cockpit packaging and switch gear are considerably nicer, the Kawasakis are almost identical in traffic. Neither steers as nimbly as the Yamaha, but both make more power with less vibration. Both saddles leave heavy riders (around 200 pounds) feeling like the foam just melted and left them sitting on the seat pan after 30 miles. Both rear carriers are capable of packing 22 pounds.

ROAD TO NOWHERE
You're not in the middle of nowhere, but you can see it from here. Imagine a stretch of highway so unerringly straight and mind-numbingly desolate that drying paint is a lounge act and you can hear yourself sweat. If you can imagine that, you've just experienced as much of U.S. Highway 395 as anyone needs to. Thumping along at 70, the Tengai fairing does a better job of directing air around the rider than the one on its more dirt-oriented brother, and with less buffeting. The plastic hand guards would be a blessing if it weren't 103 degrees in the shade—if there were any shade. Set standard, the suspension soaks up most freeway irregularities. The engine shakes just enough to let you know it's running, and rubber-mounted bars and pegs soak up most of that. The Kawasakis' too-soft seats are a problem. The only consolation is knowing your cheeks will go numb after 60 miles or so. But with enough fuel to cover nearly 300 miles between filling stations, either one is the mount of choice when straight-line horizon hunting.

A broader, firmer saddle makes the I big DR more comfortable over long | hauls, but its tiny little "fairing" is only 2 slightly better than nothing. The 5.5-gal- g Ion fuel cell goes dry every 260 miles or § so. The DR650 sends out only slightly more vibration through its sawtooth pegs than flow through the rubber-covered variety on both Kawasakis. The DR650's rack makes an excellent place to pack road gear, leaving enough extra room for a passenger. Though the XT is more relaxed, neither it nor the DR350 feels happy droning along the highway. The Yamaha gets the job done; it's just happier around town. Vibration is tolerable up to 75 or 80 mph, but the biggest bug in the Ben-Gay is a shortage of hamsters running around the XT's exercise wheel. The seat is comfortable enough to let you squeeze 190 miles out of the 3.4-gallon tank, but skimpy wind protection, minimal luggage capacity and the puny tank make the XT the fourth choice for any long-distance voyages.

The little DR feels strained and buzzy bombing along at 70. It's screaming for mercy at 80, and by 85 the big bikes have vanished. Big trucks stir up enough air to blow it around. Freeway stints longer than 70 miles are a cheek-altering experience; the seat is too soft and too narrow to support full-sized humans. Removing the ill-placed seat strap provides some rump relief, but not much. It's not a big problem, though, because you'll be stopping soon anyway, ready or not.

The 350's biggest problem is the smallest gas tank of the bunch. Its 2.4-gallon teacup goes on reserve between 75 and 80 miles and sucks wind 15 to 20 miles later. The 350 planned our gas stops for us, and if it hadn't been for the KLR mother ship and an empty Bud bottle on the roadside, we'd probably still be out there. But rather than resort to words like ridiculous and inexcusable, we'll start looking for a bigger aftermarket gas tank. No wind protection (except the plastic hand guards) or luggage-carrying capability lock the 350 into a solid last place for any serious extended play. Imagine the perfect road: curves to dream of, perfect traction, lightly patrolled and all but untraveled. We could tell you where it is, but then we'd have to kill you. Getting up to speed on this antidote for straight-line fever, we got a surprise.

Though the KLR felt faster, powering through a gentle series of 80-mph sweepers the DR650 opened a three-bike-length lead it never relinquished. The KLR stuck close to the slicker, heavier Tengai, nibbling at its luggage rack. The big Suzuki has braking power to match its muscular power plant. Rock hard, linear and impressively powerful anywhere from 10 to 110 mph, they're all but impossible to fade. Suffice to say they're the best. Though the 350's brakes work against considerably less mass and speed, they're equally excellent in terms of quality and feel.

Shifting is mostly unnecessary with the big singles. Big pistons make acres of engine braking with the throttle shut, and long-travel suspension erases nasty bumps and holes. Add almost unlimited ground clearance (the Kawasakis touch an odd peg when you get down to it), and going quickly is reduced to its simplest form: twist and steer. At that rate, you get used to sliding around some. Dual-sport rubber gets a little loose ridden hard in the twistier bits. The Tengai's Dunlop Trailmax tires generate the most grip.

The DR650's Bridgestones slide a bit more, but predictably. It takes more effort to flick the DR650 into a corner. It doesn't steer as quickly as the other big singles. When the road is tightjenough for them to catch up, the nimble XT and the nimbler 350 Suzuki are easier to ride quickly, though flaccid suspension makes the Yamaha a bit less confidence inspiring. Flogging that last mile per.hour out of the XT600 is easier since you're not watching a tachometer. Shifting just before the red rev light flickers keeps the engine shy of its 7000-rpm redline.

Hard running fades the KLR's brakes, bringing bar and lever into unnervingly close proximity after a double dozen turns. A new dual-piston caliper and larger leading caliper (9.9 versus 9.1 inches) improve the Tengai's street manners immensely. Still, stopping hard from speed on any of these bikes takes a concerted effort from both brakes. The Tengai's shorter suspension travel is a plus on the pavement, allowing less brake dive and less effort flicking through esses.

DIRTY DANCING

Though lights and license plates make them legal rides where real dirt bikes aren't, dual-sports aren't real dirt bikes. For starters, they're all quiet enough to sneak past a stream full of fly fishermen without so much as a second glance. All but the 350 Suzuki are also big, heavy and likely to win any control contest with the rider for one reason: weight. Weight is the enemy off road. It never gets tired, it wears you out, and it'll mash you like a gnat. All other things being equal, the lighter bike prevails.

It doesn't take a quantum physicist to deduce that the 304-pound DR350S humiliates the others when the pavement ends. In any off-road contest but horsepower, the diminutive DR flat leaves them for dead. It's the only bike here capable of approaching serious technical dirt work. Just how serious or technical depends on traction and the rider's personal skill level.

The little 350 likes to rev, laying down perfectly linear, usable power anywhere the tires can get a grip. On truly slippery surfaces it's far easier to ride than any of the big singles. Carburetion was perfect from sea level past 11,000 feet, though the little mill was predictably anemic at altitude. You'll want to watch tire pressure off road, especially in the rocks. Wimpy sidewalls on the Suzuki's Dunlops  let the alloy rims take a beating in truly rocky going. Adding grippier, more protective knobbies expands the bike's off-road envelope immensely.

As delivered, the 350's suspension is hopelessly soft off the road. Even though the S is about 20 pounds heavier than the dirt-only DR350, it carries softer springs—go figure. Our bike bottomed savagely through the first rough section. Cranking up the maximum spring preload and compression damping at both ends helped, but not enough. Maximum preload only overpowers inadequate (and nonadjustable) rebound damping front and rear, turning the bike into a po-go stick. Heavier fork oil helps a bunch.

Though not nearly as quick or nimble as its smaller sibling, the DR650 is the most competent and confidence inspiring of the big singles. Though its lofty saddle height can be a bit intimidating to riders under 5 feet 8 inches, acres of smooth seamless power and the best suspension of the big bikes put it firmly in the lead off road. Steering is quite precise when you consider you're riding a bike that weighs just under 400 pounds. The front end is reasonably trustworthy, and with maximum air pressure in the fork and full preload cranked up out back, the big DR behaves itself well. That is, as long as the rider respects the limits of its off-road repertoire: try blitzing an A en-duro trail, and we'll drop you a line in intensive care.

Though softer suspension, slightly vague steering, more weight up front (and everywhere else) and a less muscular engine drop the KLR a bike length behind the big DR, electric starting put it back in the lead for most staffers. We can hear serious dirt types snickering, but after wrestling any one of these behemoths over a hundred-odd miles of gnarly jeep trails, repeatedly booting a big single to life on an off-camber hillside was no fun.

The KLR rates the second best standard rubber (behind the Dunlops on the Suzuki 350S), though its brakes still fade from mediocrity to overcooked mush after repeated poundings. And repeated pounding is about all the Yamaha got off road. Shorter riders preferred its relatively reasonable seat height and electric starter, and our ace off-road warrior went quite quickly on the XT. But soft suspension, relatively steep steering geometry and slow but tractable engine put the Yamaha next to last in the dirt. Right ahead of Kawasaki's Tengai.

The Tengai is great fun for following the horizon down some easy bit of two-track or exploring graded dirt roads at a conservative clip, but beyond that, the Dunlop Trailmax rubber gets only a feeble grip, upping the odds of unwary riders bashing all that nifty (and expensive) bodywork. And since most of the Ten-gai's weight gain over the KLR rides on the front wheel, wheelying over off-road obstacles is tougher and steering is even less precise. Less suspension travel means less ground clearance and more bottoming, which is likely to clean your boots off the rubber-covered footpegs; they're slippery when wet (ditto the KLR's), and they aren't spring-loaded so they fold up and stay there when you need them most. Like in a rocky stream bed. Ouch.

RELIABILITY REPORT
All our contestants survived more or less intact, if missing a few nonessential parts at the end of the extravaganza. The Yamaha's tool kit tried to eject itself over the first bump. The third bump knocked it loose for good; we never did find it. The DR650 shook its exhaust header pipe loose, but a couple of nuts pirated from the other bikes put us back in business. The 350 lost a rear turn signal in a low-speed bail-off, and the KLR blew its headlight fuse (the fuse box could be easier to access, by the way). Considering all concerned hit the dirt more than once, it's remarkable our casualty list isn't longer.

HYGIENE FOR MODERN SINGLES
While it's true that single-cylinder engines are inherently easier to wrench on than their multipot brethren, some are easier than others. The DR650 is the simplest of the big singles. Accessing anything on air-and-oil-cooled singles is easy. Wet-sump oiling makes oil changes a snap, and tinkering with valve lash every 3500 miles via the customary screw and locknut arrangement isn't much harder. Servicing the foam air filter is a slice of cake. All that goes for the 350 as well, except valve adjustments come every 6000 miles, and a dry sump adds a couple of steps to oil checks and changes.

Both Kawasakis use the same liquid-cooled, double-overhead-camshaft, four-valve engine. Though reliable as a hammer, it's considerably more complex. Shim-over-bucket valve adjustment is a good news, bad news proposition. The bad news is the Kawasaki valve train is a bit more complicated to work on; the good news is you only work on it every 10,000 miles. The wet-sump design makes oil changes easier, and the reusable oiled-foam air filter is easily accessible.

The engine's balancer-shaft chain should be checked for slack every 5000 miles, a reasonably complex procedure best left to dealers or competent mechanics. Yamaha has been building big singles longer than anyone in Japan, and the SOHC, air-cooled XT has proven itself bombproof; ours was no exception. The XT's quartet of valves should be ministered to every 3800 miles, but no radiators or hoses to wrestle simplifies inspection and screw/locknut adjustments; maintenance is about as simple and straightforward as they come. The Yamaha's dry sump complicates oil changes a bit, and its disposable paper filter has no business on a bike with off-road aspirations.

THE ENVELOPE, PLEASE
No comparison is worth the papyrus it's printed on without hard-hitting conclusions, and here are ours, starting with our smallest entry, Suzuki's DR350S. By now you've deduced that the barely street-legal line is more than snappy ad copy. Though the DR350 would benefit immensely from a few improvements in the suspension and traction departments, it's small, it's light, and at $3299 it's also relatively affordable. But although omnipotent off road, the little Suzuki is limited on the street by a lack of power, rider and passenger comfort and baggage-handling capacity. You can't have everything.

The tiny gas tank keeps weight down but puts the 350 on a short tether and out of the adventure-touring hunt. Still, it's the only (reasonably) capable dirt bike you can buy that gets to the dirt sans pickup truck or loading ramp. After ending up king of the dirt last year, Yamaha's XT600 turned away from its roots and focused on the street. Electric starting, a swoopy new look and a more accessible seat height make it more attractive to all-surface novitiates who are after a big bore but aren't up to the height or heft of the others. The XT engine was relatively long of tooth last year, and now it's going soft around the gums: power is adequate but just. On the whole, the Yamaha's biggest stumbling block is its $3799 asking price.

In our eyes, the best-looking bike here and certainly the nicest street ride, the Tengai isn't enough better than the KLR on the pavement to justify its expansive (and expensive if you fall) bodywork and $300-higher price. In the end, it's a notch ahead of the Yamaha overall on the strength of a more muscular engine, broader comfort band and longer range.

Pairing the most power with the best suspension and steering, the DR650S ends up the best big bore off road and by a margin. A 5.5-gallon fuel cell lets it go nearly as far as the Kawasaki between fuel stops, but being the lightest 650 comes at the expense of an electric starter. That drops the big DR into second place by the length of a kick lever. But for riders who spend as much time off the street as on and have what it takes to light a big single the old-fashioned way, the Suzuki is a clear winner.

However, for the second year running, Kawasaki's KLR650 rolls off with all the dual-sport marbles. It's not particularly great at anything except being good at everything, and that's precisely the idea behind this whole premise anyway. Paris-Dakar pretensions and odd looks aside, it's simply the best at going where you want it to go, wherever that happens to be.