'Peak Practice' - by Greg Dyer for SuperMoto Magazine.

A chance encounter followed by a rash statement led reader Greg Dyer to the foothills of the Spanish Pyrenees. Equipped only with his KTM 400SXC supermoto and a desire to ride. Did he enjoy himself? Wadda' you think?

After a brush with Supermoto Magazine's sister title TBM (who were doing a feature on me and a couple of mates in the south west) I ended up being quote in print: “Greg is very excited about supermoto as well, which you can tell from watching him ride the tarmac between the green lanes. This is not to say he’s dangerous, but he does like to keep the back end loose on the black stuff. His grand plan for the year involves getting another set of wheels for the Katoom and then heading back to the Pyrenees for a bit of a play.”

I’d been speaking to Tim Orr of Big Rock Holidays about the possibility of getting down to Spain. I’ve been working with Tim for a few years and have been out to the Pyrennes twice before for some excellent sports biking. But this was going to be a very different kind of trip.

If I’d known then what was to come, I’d have gone for longer!

Turns out a couple of guys had booked a holiday with Tim but wanted to do the odd day off roading. So they had asked Tim to tow their two XR’s behind the luggage van to the destination on a trailer which they would provide, while the ‘X men’ - as they became known - would ride their sports bikes down for a rendezvous in Catalunya.

It was a 3 bike trailer. I couldn’t believe my luck. This was a great way of getting down to the twisties without having to ride flat out on a 400 SM conversion across France, for 2 gruelling 450 mile days, with 15 Sport bikes for company. (I’d have needed emergency arse replacement therapy and new dental fillings by the end of that. Not to mention an engine rebuild.)

So on paper at least the trip was on - but first to get the bike ready...

The basis for the project was going to have to be my recently acquired 98 KTM 400 SXC dirt bike (the forerunner of the now EXC, not the then EXC which is now the LC4 – hey don’t blame me!). This one was a French import and had been ridden by a few of the more well known clubman racers around West Cornwall. By the time it came my way it had obviously been put to good use, but looked after. That was just what I wanted (and could afford) - something that I could chuck off a few times in my campaign to get back in the dirt bike saddle without worrying about uglying up a very neat example. (I wanted a complete break from the anally retentive obsession with a bike’s condition that can go with Sports biking).

The great thing about going all the way with KTM was that I could get a set of their own LC4/Duke 1 spoked alloys (complete with cush’ hub) and bolt them straight on. Chain alignment, even the asymmetric side-pull front axle was no problem.

After a lot of ummming and arrring, I went with road-going Michelin Pilots: a Sports on the rear and a Race for the front (same profiles). After a bit of experimenting I opted for 30 psi in the rear and 24psi in the front in an attempt to avoid front-end step outs.

As for gearing I kept the front sprocket standard 14 teeth and re-geared down to a 42 tooth rear. I stuck with the standard brake set up, to cut down on swap over time. I do have to route the hose down the outside of the fork though to accommodate the Pilot’s width. A disadvantage here is that unless you take the time to swap brake pads each time, you’re going to go through a set very fast as they re-bed with each disc change.

Engine-wise I wanted abit more: grunt for the corners and freeing up the revs for top end speed. I opted for a Doma silencer working with the original elliptical mid-pipe chamber. The unit came with a jet kit, which at first ran like a bag’o’shite: over rich, lumpy, flat-lining and not revving out cleanly. I couldn’t get our local 4 stroke set-up guru to help me as he was up to his eyeballs and we’re not exactly tripping over casually placed dyno’s down here in pasty land. Shame, as the bad running would only be accentuated by using the bike at altitude, so I faffed around with settings before settling on a re-install of the original idle jet and dropping the main needle further to get it sweeter.

If the mountains won't come to you...

The lead up to joining with the X men’s trailer was a blur of last minute jobs, rushed repairs and packing for both SuperM and dirt. Then it was on to the ferry. Thirty-odd hours (Portsmouth-Bilbao) is a fair while to spend on any tub, but in the company of good friends from previous Big Rock trips as well as plenty of new faces and a handy bar on almost every deck, it passed by very well.

On arrival, I got cozzy with Big Rock’s driver (luckily female) in the luggage van with XR’s and the KTM in tow and we set off East towards Pamplona, on to Lleida, then upward towards the Catalan high country while the Sports riders (now free of baggage) blazed off with Tim.

By early evening, I was enjoying a cold beer with my friend, room-mate and sports rider Pete, looking over the familiar Catalan mountain village surrounded by woodland, peaks and lakes, smelling the heady scent of mountain herbs in the balmy evening air. Against the odds and with more luck than planning, I had finally made it. The bike came off the trailer set up for Supermoto, so I was all ready for the next day – nothing could stop me now from the dream becoming a reality.

That first morning, we filed out down the tree covered drive of the hotel and emerged into hot, dry air, bright sunlight and shimmering tarmac leading around the first bend. Rolling down through the village surrounded by pristine sports machinery, the barking crackle of my Doma bounced off the stone buildings. I could feel the tyres were already getting grippy on the hot tarmac. We made our way up a spiralling ascent, across the top of a pass and shot down onto the hazy, pale lowland beyond.

Riding mid-way in the pack I began experimenting with laying the SXC in dirt-style and staying topside as the group pace increased. For confidence – and to act as a gauge, I was touching down with the inside foot (rather than kicking it right forward by the front axle in true SM style). The bends were coming up faster and faster, I was getting more fluid and carrying more and more speed in as I began to get a feel for how tight I could go in a blind one.

By mid-morning I was in high spirits and laughing like a mad thing. I was stoked – Supermoto had proved to be everything I wanted it to be. Compared with my previous trips using the ZX6 on these very same twisty roads, this was an absolute blast! And I could tell there was a lot more potential, both for me and the bike.

I was on the slowest accelerating, lowest top speed, weakest brake horsepower machine of the whole party, and I didn’t give a damn. It felt like I was riding in my own private universe where different physical laws applied. There were tight, blind sections where the procession of Sports were braking heavily, before peeling in on a trailing throttle to the apex and then blasting out of the other side. On the KTM, I could almost shoot through the whole set of bends. I would concentrate on getting all the braking done before dropping in and feeding constant power all the way round with my weight up front and on the outside peg.

And mine wasn't the only SuperM. There was also a Duke 1 which belonged to Jo (a well-up-for-it girl I’d met on previous holidays). She’d come to this sport of the brave from a sports riding background, having previously ridden a Bandit 600, then a Thundercat – both pretty bloody quickly. Jo had no knowledge of the dirt aspect of riding, so we had quite different styles – me stuffing the bike in, getting myself topside and upright – while Jo leaned in with her bike and she got that thing well cranked over for these roads.

Just when you think it can’t get any better, it does!

The weather stayed consistently hot and sunny. The roads stayed consistently good (as expected) with only the minority of routes more suited to the Sports, taking us on rapid, wide, open sweepers which the quick guys would be taking fast, knee down. I couldn’t play at those speeds – instead, I would just get the Katoom up into top and tail some of the more mellow riders. I could have got Tim to recommend alternative, tighter routes at any time, and sometimes did... but it was often not necessary.

I teamed up with Deej (one of the X men) on his Blade to rack up my longest distance of the holiday – a 120 mile trip each way from our hotel to one of the highest passes in the region.The long, tangled ascent was a great way to test how my SM riding was progressing with Deej as the bench mark. I had enjoyed this route of uphill hairpins and tight 180’s on my Ninja with Deej on previous trips. Was I quicker on a 400 single than I had been on a ZX6R on the same road? For sure. If I could have ridden against myself, I’d have thrashed me.

On the way down, the front brake faded, then failed, with the lever meeting the bar with no resistance at all by the half way point.

Despite a flush through with fresh brake fluid that evening, it was terminal. (Should have changes the fluid when I’d bought the bike.) So the next day, I struck out on my tod to a KTM dealer in Manresa to get a replacement piston and a thorough cleanout while the rest of the guys went to the Principality.

Me and Jo go all the way…to Andorra.

Having sorted the brake issue, I took the opportunity to break off from the group again. Jo and I headed off on extreme twisties up the back of the village’s valley and over towards Andorra - a route that guys on SP1’s, 996’s and the like would have refused to go on. But for us this narrow, hairpin infested, exposed route was a gift even with its uneven surface and random scattering of workmen.

We had a great KTM-only day together, swapping the lead and swapping bikes too. Jo couldn’t believe how hard and vibrating mine was (oh err!). I couldn’t believe how torquey, smooth, plush and well mannered her Duke 1 was. I liked the riding position which seemed to place you automatically over the front without effort but I missed having wide bars to wrangle it into corners, opting for a different technique. The LC4 mill pulled well but with a soft-tune feel. With more time to get the measure of the bike, it’s true power advantage would have shone through – but it wasn’t immediately all that apparent.

Getting back on my SXC after a spin on the Duke was like mild torture.

They think it’s all over...
Been there, done that. How soon can I do it again?
This is the third time I have been out to Catalunya and enjoyed the excellent hospitality, weather, wonderful scenery and truly awesome roads, but the combination with Supermoto really has made something great truly fantastic!

For me, Supermoto conversion rocks. On all but the most open sweepers the KTM set up is so much fun (compared to the demands and limitations of a Sports). There is a trade off – it’s physically demanding if you’re riding fast sitting bolt upright with no faring. There’s no comfort or smoothness and after the first hour, you forget you ever had an arse. (Even with padded cycle shorts under your leathers.)

What you gain is bucket loads of fun, extreme riding at lower speeds where road surface quality is almost irrelevant, and the ability to develop a very individual riding style. Plus, out in this part of the world, you can ride the mountains ragged, free of the precious, prissy restrictions of a sports.

The Pyrenees rock too! (well they would. They’re made of the stuff.) If you can van your way into the mountains and whip out your weapon, you’ll be in SM heaven. You’ll ride more bends on an average day out there than you would in maybe a year of road riding in the UK. And I assure you that I do not exaggerate to make a point. Traffic is light, the scenery and sense of adventure really gets you stoked. If you dodn’t come back a much better rider, already planning your next trip, I’d be very surprised.

The great thing is, if you pick the right base, you can have very different kinds of daily ride outs, each within a 30 mile radius of where you’re staying, venturing further if you wish.

Don’t ride alone though. If it does all go wrong, you’ll need all the help you can get. The locals are very hospitable, welcoming and friendly (as a rule Brits are preferred over French or Germans in Catalunya) but they’re shy of going out of their way for you in a crisis. It ain’t like over here

Best ever, go out with a well organised group with previous experience in the area who can put together all your travel, tailor your itinerary for the kind of rides you want to do, know all the best routes, speak the lingo and know the locals well. Amongst other things, it guarantees that you return knowing you had all the best roads and didn’t waste your days exploring to find the really good ones.

Back in the garage...
Taking a post-trip look at the SXC, it did me proud and gave me everything it had, but it has proved to be overweight (felt off road more than on) and underpowered for Supermoto. The road-going Michelin Pilots offer incredible grip on such a light bike (the soaring temperatures helped). They just don’t have that progressive feel that I was looking for though. Instead they stick and stick at ever increasing angles of lean and when they do let go or skip, it’s unpredictable and sharp. My preference would be an H rated Dunlop where you can push knowing that a slide wouldn’t come as a sudden breakaway, but hopefully might come in with a bit of control and feedback.
 
The riding position on the SXC wasn’t as SM friendly as I thought it was going to be. The seat rises steeply up the tank compared with a WR or modern EXC and I found the standard bars too low for my 6’ 3” height. At times I felt stooped over the middle rather than really committed to the front with the back freed up. I’ve now got a set of high-rise bars which are much better for SM (and loads better for riding off road on the pegs).

Already scheming about the next trip, I’ve found out what it will take to convert my wheels to fit on an EXC 520, KTM’s thoroughbred, out and out mountain killer.

In the words of another kind of terminator, “I’ll be back”.

Copyright - Greg Dyer 2002.