Guides Challenge-Cars/Motorbi kes of Memory, The Filthy Fun Offroad Experience (Honda XR250R)

Member Name: Muddy250

Product:	Honda XR250R
Date:	16/11/03 (5020 review reads)
Rating:

Advantages: Incredible fun, Risk of becoming fit, Reliability

Disadvantages: None, odd injuries

A Change of Riding Style

After twelve years of hammering around on 600cc 'pocket rockets' and encouraged by tales of off-road excitement from a friend who owns a Serow, I finally px'd my shiny GSXR600 for a 'clean' XR 250. At least the dealer said it was 'clean'. I thought they meant 'clean' not 'clean'. They meant mechanically sound, with the exception of a bent front disc and slightly off centre rear sub frame, otherwise pretty filthy, but I couldn't stop grinning at he way the suspension bounced around as I played with it in the showroom and despite the consensus of opinion from my two daughters being that I looked silly on it, arranged a straight swap for the '99 Werx (who) Graphics spattered bike. I had to keep reminding myself that this was an off-road machine, not a shiny Sunday bike, think tractor, not Ferrari and as I rode away on my new machine I was strangely elated. No longer worried lest I bin it and have to buy a grands worth of plastic to put it right.

The lack of performance, odd sit up riding position, noise and most of all, cold legs completely failed to upset me. Not even the skinny rear tyre, even smaller than the front tyre of the bike I was leaving behind could wipe the grin from my face and as my wife would confirm, I have had rather a thing about large rear tyres over the years! A '180' being the pinnacle of my ambition, at least until the 200's appeared.

Safely home I began the time honoured task of taking the new toy apart, just to see how it worked you understand. Panels all over the floor, dinner served in the garage and eaten with grease and oil covered hands, spanners, sockets and drivers littering the bench. I'll come and wash up later? much later, ah you've already done it, what hours ago, what time is it? Really?


Playtime!

My Serow riding mate, Mark just happened to be arranging a trip up to North Yorkshire


to meet up with another experienced off-roader Pete and his DR350, for a trip over the moors to Malham and Arncliffe, asked if I'd like to go? Would I!
So all was arranged for the Wednesday morning to trailer the bikes to Barnoldswick to meet up. It was a beautifully clear and frosty morning and I'd had my new bike exactly 36 hours.

After a brew, we unloaded them and I began to kick, with my lights on, (idiot) for quite some time so that I had a fair head of steam before we even set off. Leaving the bike ticking over happily, I borrowed a set of waterproof pants from Pete, not having any of my own and we finally got moving, Mark having the luxury of not breaking sweat starting the Serow, thanks to the electric 'smug' button.


Let's Get Going

I can't remember the early details of the route at all except to say that after a couple of miles on the road we stopped to let some air out of the tyres and then turned onto a rough track, Pete in front, Mark bringing up the rear, best seat in the house (more later). After a few miles, I began to gain confidence in the bike and it's ability to cross ground, which my road riding experience told me was impossible. Passing through a series of gates and after a brief stop with the bikes turned off for passing horses (would it start again?) we came to a small stream in a deepish gully with a log in the centre. I was at the rear and looking for a way round this when to my horror, Mark and Pete simply rode straight across, bouncing the back wheel off the log halfway, to my amazement, my bike did the same! Pete then took off along a rutted lane, frozen solid in the shadow of the high limestone walls on either side, muddy where the sun had peeped over. As ever, I tried to keep up. I had read in a copy of TBM that riding in ruts needs technique, look ahead, not down, relax and if all else fails stop! Another gem I found involved steering the front slightly towards the e
dge of the rut to stop it slapping, unfortunately for me, my speed far exceeded my level of skill (not difficult, 2mph would do it!) and the tyre not only stopped slapping, it climbed out of the rut into the next one and before I knew what had happened I was under the bike and grinding to a halt. As I tried to get up I realised my left leg was stuck and the still revolving rear wheel and chain were cheerfully chewing on Pete's loaned waterproofs. I struggled out from under, with my borrowed pants now knee length as Mark arrived and parked up, loosening my clutch perch to stop me snapping the lever, next time...next time? Pete returned soon after to help with the restart, which proved to be a bit of an ordeal in full kit with a rucksack on. Eventually with a sore leg, ankle, hip and left arm I climbed back on and treated the ruts with the respect they deserved for the rest of the day. However, they weren't done with me yet.


Dinner on the Hilltops

We shortly arrived in Settle and parked up while Pete went for supplies, I was still sore and laughing about it now, I'd crashed on my first trip, my new jacket was plastered in filth and I owed Pete a new pair of pants. Will it always be like this? We left the village and climbed up a track above the Victoria caves where Pete fell off on the icy grass (to make me feel better) and stopped in the brilliant sunshine and steamed quietly whilst eating dinner, looking out over the silent hills and dales. Beautiful.

After our rest we set off for Malham along some wonderful trails and through some horrendous bogs although both my 'minders' thought it was easy going and would have been much worse but for the heavy frost. At one point, they both negotiated a nasty climb out of a bog and whilst I almost made it, I failed to get my weight over the front (never even crossed my mind to do it) and as I crested the top, fell sideways and slid back into the bog. Two pairs of hands round th
e front wheel hauled me up whilst reminding me not to run over them if my rear should grip suddenly.

Still a little nervous after my big fall, I began to relax and enjoyed trying to jump small holes, keeping the power on to stop the front dropping though not managing to lift it but generally having a great time sliding about. A very strange feeling after all those years on the road when sliding rubber would result in a park up, calm down routine.


Off Again.

As we approached Malham we rode up a long incline, Mark following me and again getting the best view as the tiniest of ruts sent my front wheel out from under me and I somehow managed to leave the bike at speed coming to rest about ten feet away in the more forgiving spongy turf of the moor. The bike was still running but I lifted it without pulling in the clutch ooops, stalled again. Pete returned once more complaining of missing the action and I had the opportunity to demonstrate my expertise in starting a hot four stroke, kick like hell until you can no longer lift your leg on to the lever, much less push it down. After working five kick shifts for a few minutes it was agreed that we ought to rest and have a drink, let it cool down and sure enough it fired up about ten minutes later! I was knackered just watching.

As I set off at the tail end I noticed that I had an interesting steering problem with the front wheel facing forwards and the bars pointing way to the left. Mark and Pete were off up the rise and each time they looked around I signalled but they assumed I was OK so I had no option but to carry on speedway style until the next gate where things were easily straightened out by resting the front wheel against the wall and applying judicious force? and again, that's better. Had one of my precious GSXR or CBR's suffered like this I'd have been crying all the way to the bank! So much more relaxing, these bikes.



Another Cock-up!




We crossed the road above Malham Cove, and headed for the tarn where a couple of elderly walkers watched with interest as we approached a hideous boggy section, fifteen or twenty feet long just before the road to Street Gate. I was at the rear gingerly picking my way down and followed the leaders into the bog where Pete had stalled his bike and Mark had stopped to help. I had been ploughing through just fine but had no option except to stop, and, just as I became conscious of my audience and thought don't make a pigs ear of it. I stalled the bike as the others restarted and left me slowly sinking with mud up to my knees and the kick-starter submerging further with each attempt at starting. Thankfully, I got it running, dug my way out and rode over to the stream to rinse off the half-hundredweight of mud clinging to my left boot and leg. In hindsight, I'd have been better off waiting for the other two to clear the bog before I went in but then they'd have been watching my attempt and who knows how far I'd have sunk?


The rest of the trip was straightforward apart from the last ice-covered section down to Arncliffe where a walker managed to outpace me to the bottom as I stuck to first gear, no brakes and feet all over the place. At least he did the honours with the last gate.

On reaching the tarmac, we decided to call it a day and rode back to Pete's on the tarmac to load up the bikes and head home.

During the day, despite the number of people we met on the hills, the only person to complain was a lady in a Land Rover Discovery, who kindly parked on a cattle grid thus blocking our progress, in order to inform us that we couldn't ride on this road as it was private, despite it having a street name and signs to the next village! I sat back as Mark and Pete thanked her for the advice and then we dutifully followed her until she arrived home and we reached the main road and headed for the next section o
f the trail!


Did I enjoy it then? Well, yes!

Looking back I enjoyed it all so much that I have to think hard to recall exactly how tired I got, I think I may have been a little tired, maybe a little more than that, OK I was absolutely knackered, glad to eventually get off and so pleased when Mark offered to drive me home instead of having to unload the bike and ride it back from his house. Things could have been worse, there were many more trails in the area which I would have had no chance of making, but the guys kindly looked after me and didn't make it too hard on my first trip. Sadly, there are no photos as I forgot my camera as usual. The only one I do have is one of the XR back at home, in all it's glory, utterly plastered in good old Yorkshire mud.


Just to finish this off, a little about the bike itself.

The frame is a simple tubular steel affair, housing a single cylinder 249 cc four-stroke engine, which makes a paltry 20ish horsepower. Those of you in the know about road bikes will realise that this is barely enough to pull the skin off custard but off-road, it's plenty! It's not the BHP that really matters here anyhow, off-road it's the grunt; we're talking torque and in that department it puts out about the same as a 900cc Fireblade believe it or not, so that near vertical muddy hills are not a problem.

The tyres however can be, especially if like me you ride it on the road to work every day. You need something that'll grip on tarmac AND in mud. Fortunately, though not widely available, the IRC TR8 tyres are perfect for these conditions and last around 8000kms, which is amazing for a knobbly tyre.

The original and not much changed version of this bike appeared in the 1980's and as usual with Honda, they got it right out of the box, odd tweaks here and there, upgraded suspension units from twin to single shock absorber at the rear but the thing has basically re
mained unchanged and proven over 20 odd years, testament to the build quality and brilliance of the original design. A true enduro workhorse, a competition bike you can ride on the road, if you're prepared to put up with terrible lights, no idicators, no pillion pegs, dodgy road manners and lack of electric start, BUT it was never meant to be ridden here. Its spiritual home is in the muck and filth of the moors, gravel trails and forest roads, I guarantee it'll give anyone more grins per mile than any white knuckle sports bike, even on the race track, I know I've ridden most of 'em!



Finally, the spec.



249cc air cooled single

Kick starter

6 speed gearbox

Dimensions L 2155 x W 820 x H 2145mm

Wheelbase 1425mm

Seat Height 915mm

Ground Clearance 310mm

Fuel Capacity 9 litres (180kms on this amount of fuel)

Weight 111kg

Wheels 21" F 18"R

Brakes 240mm Front Disc

220mm Rear Disc

Forks 43mm Air assist fork 280mm travel

Rear Suspension Pro-Link with adjustable compression/rebound damping, 300mm axle travel



thanks for reading!
Chris


"This review is part of the CARS/MOTOR BIKES OF MEMORY challenge where members are asked to write about cars/motor bikes which bring back memories. ** Katie says she will hurry through any item requests. If they are flagged "Motors"she will see they go through as quickly as possible. She also asks that they not be "In General". Any which have consumer information will be eligible for crowns. **"

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