Triumph Tiger XCx Long-Termer

This entry is part 10 of 21 in the series Adventure Rider Issue #13

Last issue we outlined briefly the editor’s ADVX ride, and how things didn’t go all that well. The outcry from readers wanting to know more of the story has been loud and strident – to say the least – so here’s a little more detail, straight from the horse’s mouth… from one end of the horse, anyway.

Riding the Triumph 800XCx is always a thrill for me. I make no secret of my high regard for the bike. And ADVX! A ride like that must be a dream for any adventure rider. Imagine being sent as part of your work? Could things be any better than that? Grab a coffee, sit back and get comfortable. There’s no short way to tell this story.

Build it

I’d repeatedly said I was happy to ride the 2015 XCx stock, but there were some after-market fittings offered that would make the ride a lot easier and whole lot safer.

First up was a Safari tank, and not only did Robin Box supply the tank, he dropped everything and spent some time fitting the 30-litre cell. In the process he ‘fixed’ some of the things I’d already fitted, and generally checked things over.

Barkbusters was next, and there’s no time ever I’ll say no to a set of Barkbusters on an adventure bike. In this case, the Aussie company had a model-specific set and also supplied the Blizzard weather protectors. That’s the ultimate hand-protection set-up in my book.

Then it was Triumph Australia itself.

Mark Berger and Cliff Stovall, often mentioned in previous issues, were keen to add all kinds of things to the bike. Just about anything and everything from the Triumph catalogue was on offer, and when I rode the Tiger into Triumph’s headquarters in Melbourne they were a little disappointed at my not having a big list of goodies I wanted fitted to the bike. Cliff gave the 800 a once-over, cranked up the preload on the suspension to suit the heavy load a mammoth ride like ADVX required, then sent me out to ride the bike under the watchful eye of Mark B. Back in the workshop the bike was declared ready.

As soon as I wasn’t looking someone fitted a gorgeous set of Triumph wide footpegs and some spare levers were slipped into the panniers. The accessories were much appreciated over the following two weeks, I can tell you.

Somewhere between the bike leaving Melbourne and arriving in Perth, a pair of Mitas E-09s were slipped on, and they turned out to be a perfect choice for a tough crossing of the continent.

Ralph’s bike wasn’t in good shape. That’s the instrument cluster and ECU hanging from a tree next to the bike. Ralph himself wasn’t in much better condition.

But wait…there’s more

Triumph also had another rider on an 800XC who hadn’t anyone in particular to ride with. Ralph Baich works for sister company Monza Imports, so we were introduced by the Triumph guys and agreed to watch out for each other.

As a final build measure, Petra and Howard at Motorrad Garage in Perth insisted on a visit the day before the ride started. There was already some very nice SW Motech and Pyramid Plastics gear fitted to the bike as we’ve outlined in previous issues, but a new shipment of crash bars had just arrived and Howard and Petra wanted to set the bike up with a pair. The SW Motech crash bars are the only ones that protect the radiator, and while the Safari tank offered a certain amount of cover, the crash bars are solid and could stay when the Safari tank was swapped back to the stocker.

Like Robin Box and the Triumph guys, Howard and Petra dropped everything and fitted the bars.

Well…Howard fitted the bars. Petra kept up the supply of muffins and coffee, which was equally important and very much appreciated.

Mmm…coffee…

The makeshift ramp designed to get the bike up on to the road train was a work of genius. It was still a gut-buster to get up there, though.
Muzza, WA truckie and a dead-set, world-class champion. He didn’t hesitate a second when the situation was explained. Thanks to his swift and decisive action the injured rider was delivered to care safely.

Chain reaction

Ralph and I were underway early on Saturday morning, and the first big stop was a beach called Lancelin.

This run along the sand proved challenging, and as I dashed about the place trying to photograph fallen bikes and massive dunes, the Triumph was treated with scant respect. It did more heavy-handed stops and starts than a female learner driver in her first attempt at a manual gearbox, and looking back I’ve no doubt I did a heap of revving and clutch-slipping in the deep, talcum-powder sand.

Later that morning, on a sandy track in the middle of nowhere, the bike was once again on the stand while I shot a few pics. But when it was time to get going, the bike refused to move.

The engine sounded fine, the gearbox engaged, but with the clutch out the bike was happy to idle in gear and remain stationary. A broken or derailed chain seemed the likely problem, but inspection proved that wasn’t the case.

The clutch had ‘gone’.

Even with a clutch not at its best, the Tiger roared through to camp outside Warburton without any real problems.

Cliff rescue

It looked as though my ride was over on the very first day. In fact, on the very first morning.

A check of the phone showed there was signal, and a call to Mark, then Cliff, at Triumph, reminded me that this wasn’t the bike’s first run in the sand. It’d had a spirited afternoon on Stockton Beach during the media release. None of the bikes had had any clutch trouble on that day, but they’d sure had a hammering. In fact, I couldn’t recall a single clutch problem on the Tigers since I first rode one in 2011. And as I thought back through the morning I realised I could’ve unintentionally given the bike another big hammering…maybe a severe one.

Anyhoo, what was done was done. I dragged out the tool roll and Cliff talked me through some not-very-technical adjustments. In just a few minutes the bike was driving again and ready to take on the world. Hard acceleration or deep sand would start the clutch slipping, and there wasn’t a millimetre of adjustment left anywhere, but it wasridable, and on bitumen and hard-pack it was easy to forget I’d done some damage.

“Just get it to Alice Springs,” advised Cliff Stovall over the phone.

“We’ll have a new set of plates waiting.

All good

That meant, no matter what, the rest of the run would be done on the ‘easy’ sections. I wasn’t too upset about that. The easy sections looked like great riding, and that’s all a bloke lives for.

With Ralph and Cameron – on a BMW 1200GS, met at the Geraldton motel – we headed off for Meekatharra.

It was a pleasant and uneventful day. The Triumph, despite the abuse, sped along the bitumen and hard-packed dirt smoothly and sweetly, and in a classic case of bolting the stable door before counting how many chickens had hatched, I consciously was gentle with throttle application.

Not part of the plan

After a great camp east of Warburton we headed for Wyluna and Laverton. The dry road made for dusty riding, so everyone spread out.

About 150km past Wyluna, Ralph got into difficulty and both he and his 800 copped a great deal of damage.

The next five hours were unpleasant, and that’s all that needs to be said.

Ralph was badly injured, his bike a mess, there was no mobile phone coverage, and we’d been told at briefing we may wait up to two days for a sweep vehicle. Ralph’s injuries were such that I didn’t think we had two days available. He needed help. After pulling up a few riders and asking them to try and get a message through to the event organiser, I flagged down a road train.

The driver, ‘Muzza’, didn’t hesitate for a second. He drove the truck over to the edge of the road where there was a small dust windrow, and then built the most ingenious ramp ever. The bike was manhandled up on to the trailer while Ralph made his unsteady way into the cab.

With the Tiger back on its wheels it was time to take stock. Our marsupial friend didn’t survive.

By that stage it was almost dark. The truckie said he would get Ralph to Leonora, the nearest town likely to have a medical service of some kind, 250km away. I went on ahead to organise what medical and accom I could for when the truck arrived.

The last thing Muzza said was, “You’d better be there to unload this bloke and that bike when I get there.”

It was the last time I ever saw Ralph or the truck.

That ’roo hit hard. Thank goodness it didn’t rain.

Sweep’s take

I was following the course on the GPS which showed it would pass within about 50km of Leonora, so I thought it my best bet.

The intersection with the Leonora turn was clear. Unbeknownst to me, the truck turned onto the bitumen not long after picking up Ralph and the bike, so they weren’t behind me when, travelling at a speed suited to the treacherous night-time conditions and pending emergency, the Triumph centrepunched a kangaroo about 50km further down the track. The bike and I went down like a ton of bricks.

With the broken plastics stripped away and the creative use of the SW Motech GPS mount, a repair was effected. It lasted four days and 2000km or so across WA and the Northern Territory. Leaving the damaged beak there was optimistic. It didn’t last long.

It was while I was standing there, head still buzzing, contemplating the extensive damage to the front of the bike and the life-less kangaroo, a LandCruiser with a trailer roared up and ADVX sweep driver Darren Hood catapulted from the cab.

“Do you know anything about an injured rider?” he asked. Then, taking in the scene, “Did you just hit that kangaroo?”

Once Ralph’s situation had been explained, Darren turned his attention to the scene in front of him. Eyeing off the mangled front of the Triumph he pointed to the gauges hanging down by their electronics cable.

“That’s the computer cable,” he said.“This bike will still run.
You can complete the mission.”I tried to state my view that the ‘mission’, as I saw it, was to get the bike on the trailer and myself to the nearest airport, but while I was mumbling my way through that, Darren flicked the bike into neutral, hit the starter, and the mighty Tiger purred into life as though it hadn’t a care in the world.

Next up Darren established I wasn’t injured, pointed out a good camping spot, then, with me still making vague motions about having my own tiedowns, he leaped into the ’Cruiser and headed back the 350km to Carnegie along the hard route, from where he’d just come, to continue helping riders.

I rolled out my swag and waited for the morning.

The beginning of the Old Strzelecki Track at Merty Merty. The kangaroo was all but forgotten and the real fun riding about to begin.

Keep on keeping on

The front of the bike was a bit of a mess, and of course was well bent out of shape.

Whether or not anything serious was bent was a minor issue. The big problem was to secure the gauges so that, as Darren had pointed out, the cable couldn’t chafe or fracture. There was a long, long stretch of dirt to be covered, so the gauges and cable had to be somehow fixed rock-solid.

Pulling away the debris from the front of the Triumph revealed a lot of smashed plastic and that the steel mount from the frame to the instrument cluster itself had broken on impact. The pieces were still there, in among the kangaroo guts and tufts of fur, and joined to one of the pieces was the SW Motech GPS mount. With a little creative bolting and fiddling the GPS mount made a fairly stable cradle that was roughly the right shape to hold the gauges. Darren had left a roll of duct tape he assured me was ‘strong stuff’, and using the tape to set things in place, then every zip-tie from my tool roll, then a length of cheapo Bunnings rope I carried ‘just in case’, I had the instrument cluster secure.

It was sticking out like a bullbar and facing the wrong way, but that was a minor detail.

I fired ’er up and started riding.

Team support

By the time the bike hit Laverton, around 200km later, it looked as if the makeshift repair might go the distance. A quick apologetic call to Triumph – again – explained the situation. Mark Berger’s instruction was unambiguous: “If there’s any risk to your safety, leave the bike there and get yourself home. We’ll deal with it.” That was the level of support Triumph Australia had kept up, without fail, since well before ADVX.

Then it was Cliff’s turn: “Can you get the bike to Alice Springs?” he asked hopefully.

Alice was four days and 2000km away. There was only one way to find out.

D’oooooh

For the next few days the mighty Tiger purred along over the dirt roads of Western Australia and then the Northern Territory until at last, the clutch still holding on and the Barkbusters and SW Motech crash bars now among my favourite bits of gear, it launched onto the bitumen about 30km from Uluru.

It was a warm, glorious, sunny afternoon as, for the first time in days, I plonked my arse on the seat and relaxed. It looked as though everything would be fine.

That was when the rear tyre flapped, grabbed, and catapulted me and the bike off the road into the scrub. The first time.

Not to drag out the story, the second puncture about five kilometres later seemed a million-to-one shot, and the third one shortly after that finally made me have a proper look inside the tyre carcass. It meant removing the tyre, which was a pain, but proved worthwhile. The heat of the first puncture – the tyre had been smoking when I pulled up, and both tube and rim liner had melted into a single extrusion that resembled a large, black sex toy – had done some damage to the inside of the tyre wall.

Three flats in quick succession. D’oh

A glance at the GPS showed ‘Campground’ about 15km ahead. Rather than camp by the road and wait two days for a sweep truck, I refitted the tyre and wheel, mounted up and headed for what I hoped might be a barbecue table and a long drop dunny.

By that stage there wasn’t much tyre left.

The wheel didn’t look terrific, either. And the clutch was getting worse. In an effort to keep the tyre from melting, I rode in the bush beside the tarmac road, which was how the tyre managed to flick me again, this time into a nearby tree.

The remaining 15km took something over an hour, and it was with some relief Yulara, the ‘campground’ on the GPS, with all its luxury and phone reception, hauled into view.

“Can you please just get it to Alice,” sighed Cliff Stovall in yet another phone call.

The rim liner and tube melted into a solid mass in the time it took to pull up with the first puncture, a nail through the tread.

Rebuild

With no more tubes and a destroyed rear tyre there was no option but to wait for a sweep truck, and that meant a timely and much-needed rest day at the Yulara campground.

When the sweep did arrive late the next day the only tyre available was a second-handy from a DR650, and compared to the chunky Mitas E-09 that had been on the Tiger, it looked like something off a girl’s tricycle. The only tube available was secondhand as well.

“You’d better put some air in it and make sure it’s not punctured too,” advised Woodsie cheerfully in the failing light.

The tube was fine, and, seeming to almost defy physics, the tyre expanded to fit the rim. With fingers crossed I hit the road the following morning, cruising my bitumen way to Alice Springs.

Relief

On arrival at the home of the Finke Desert Race, everything seemed to fall miraculously into place. Rob Turton of Tyres For Bikes said hello and pointed out he had a couple of new tyres on board sent out by the Mitas guys.

The folks at Desert Edge Motorcycles, the Alice Springs Triumph dealer, rolled a brand-spanking-new 800XCx off the showroom floor and began stripping parts off it and rebuilding the Adventure Rider Magazine bike – right down to making sure the blinkers worked – and, best of all, there was a package of clutch plates sitting on the counter with the my name on it.

Bless you, Triumph Australia!

Job done. Across Australia from the west coast to the east under less-than-ideal conditions. The Tiger 800XCx will be rated as ‘super tough’ from now on.

One last hitch

With the bike back in good condition again – albeit still a little out of true and battle scarred in places – the rest of the day was spent doing basic maintenance like changing the air prefilter and oil.

By this stage the publisher had flown in and organised a room.

There were clean sheets, hot showers and a slap-up feed at the event dinner all set for that evening. The publisher announced, “We’ll head down the bitumen to Finke in the morning!”

I figured that meant I could leave the clutch plates to fit the next evening at Finke, and get on with some work. I did the pressing maintenance and then shot some pics and recorded a few quotes at the dinner.

As everyone climbed on their bikes the next morning the publisher proclaimed, “I’ve spoken to John Hudson, and we’ll go down the Finke Access Track instead.”

A cold dread settled on my bowels.

I’ve done the Finke Desert Race a couple of times, and I’d been up and down that access track a few times. Even though it was part of the ADVX easy route, it’s not a ride to be taken lightly, or on a bike that deserves a little maintenance.

Sure enough, about 100km down that shitty, deep-dust, sand-sewer the damaged clutch of the Triumph finally refused its duty.

The trip back to Alice was glum and unpleasant.

All good

Back in the parking lot of the Alice Springs motel the new clutch plates were slipped into place and from then on the Triumph – and I – never looked back. With the bike back in good shape it shimmied and purred its way through the remaining 2500km like it was just warming up and looking for something to challenge it.

A going over by Triumph in the weeks after the event gave the bike a clean bill of health with no serious damage. Nothing was bent at all. Easing the tripleclamp bolts and axle allowed everything to be trued up. Even the ’bars didn’t need replacing. A beak, a new mudguard and a good service had the Tiger ready to do it all again. Even the Mitas tyres fitted in Alice were still in good shape. They could easily have gone the whole distance.

There’s a long list of things I love about the Triumph Tiger XCx, and now, right at the top, is that it’s one very tough, strong, beautifully made adventure bike.

I know it for a tried-and-tested fact.

Ralph rides again

Ralph made it back to Melbourne after a new set of challenges, and both he and his 800XC are well on the road to recovery.

He’s a good bloke to have on a ride, and although ADVX didn’t go his way, I’m looking forward to sharing a new adventure with him again when he’s back on form.

We banked enough great memories in a few days to bullshit our way through a heap of campfire yarns.

We wouldn’t want to waste an opportunity like that.

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