I bought my XT660Z Tenere new just over two years ago, in April 2010, from Webbs of Peterborough.
I’d looked at the Tenere the year before (in 2009) but was put off by its imposing saddle height so settled on a new XT660R instead.
In the summer of that year I undertook my first ‘long’ ride from Lincolnshire up to Fort Augustus, touring around Loch Ness and Inverness.
It rained every day and I got soaked everyday, but the B&B owners always helped me dry my sodden riding gear at the end of every day… but I’d caught the ‘bike touring bug despite the atrocious riding conditions.
And that got me thinking as I rode back south (and yes it was still raining) from my Edinburgh-based in-laws to home: I want to do this again, but go further afield and preferably overseas.
Over the autumn/winter of 2009 hardly an evening went by when a well-thumbed touring map of Europe wasn’t spread out on the dining table and I’d just paw over it… north, south, east or west?
Finally, on New Year’s Day 2010, I decided… north, as far north as it’s possible to go in Europe. Nordkapp in northern Norway. Land of the midnight sun, in the treeless Arctic tundra. Setting off in mid-May.
My plan was to take the DFDS North Sea ferry crossing from Harwich to Esjberg in Denmark, then head eastwards through Denmark across the Oresund bridge/tunnel (made famous in the English-language episode of Wallander that featured a ‘bike-riding drugs runner and, most recently, the Swedish/Danish crime series ‘The Bridge’) into southern Sweden.
This would be followed by the long haul northwards via the central spine of Sweden to Nordkapp, with the return leg eastwards into Finland before riding the ‘Polar Route’ down south to Rovaniemi and back into Sweden following the Bothnian Sea coastline and back across the Oresund crossing back to Esjberg for my home-bound overnight ferry crossing.
The plan was to cover just under 5,000 miles, door-to-door, in sixteen days.
But the more I looked at the maps and my Garmin Satnav the more I worried about the XT660R’s fuel tank range and fuel availability in the more remote regions of northern Sweden and Norway.
I toyed with the idea of carrying an emergency fuel can, but what with the hassle of securing this additional load as well as my tent and supplies… and that niggling worry over the 660R’s small tank anyway, well, I thought it best to re-look at the idea of a ‘bike more suited to covering huge distances straight ‘out of the box’.
I didn’t want a BMW (very able, but too big, too expensive and too many of them around if I have to be honest).
A KTM 990 Adventure?
Hmm, yes, very nice and very exclusive. But no, show some self-control now.
I might hate the whole idea of ‘adventure’ touring and that would tarnish the image of my ‘dream’ through no fault of its own. Besides, the 990 Adventure isn’t exactly a cheap bike either.
No, but relatively speaking, the Tenere was.
So, a phone call to Webbs of Peterborough mid-week in early March 2010.
Did they have a new Tenere in stock?
Yes, two: a blue one at their Lincoln dealership and a black one in Peterborough.
Great, I’d come over on Saturday morning to look at the black one and give it a second chance (remember the elevated saddle height).
I’d gained a lot of confidence clambering aboard the 660R over the past year, so suddenly the Tenere’s elevated saddle height didn’t seem such an insurmountable problem.
As soon as I set eyes on the Tenere I wanted it, I just loved its rugged, purposeful looks.
And, yes, it was soooooo imposing. All the better to be noticed by car drivers!
It had decent wind protection. The 660R’s fuelling glitches have been eradicated with the Tenere. Factor in the good sturdy frame, somewhere to mount the Garmin and, most importantly, the huge fuel tank.
I literally dragged the saleman back to his desk so I could pay my deposit there and then. And would I be able to collect it the following weekend?
I explained my urgency, but was reminded to get the 600mile service done before embarking on my trip.
The ensuing weeks were taken up putting on the miles, ordering Hepco & Becker pannier frames and Alpos boxes and wiring in a 12volt socket to power the Satnav, my camera and phone.
The big day finally arrived.
Panniers, a waterproof rollbag, my tent and sleeping bag plus a tankbag.
The Tenere felt as thought it weighted a ton, but it was manageable.
So, seventeen travel-hardened and slightly saddle-sore days later, my impressions…
Luggage, rain, three days of snow and temperature extremes that ranged from minus 10c to a 26c heatwave on a two night stopover in Rovaniemi (right on the Arctic Circle!!!). Even fully-laden I was struck by the Tenere’s stability and the stopping power of its twin disc brake set-up when dealing with the numerous Elk(and reindeer)-avoidance stops.
The Tenere was bloody marvelous.
Add to that the huge 23 litre fuel tank’s very useful 300mile range. It’s just a shame the filler isn’t offset to one side (as on the KTM 990) because it meant unclipping the tankbag at each fuelling stop.
I’ve been a long-term fan of Yamaha’s big 660 single, what with the XT660R and my earlier MuZ Scorpion 660 Sport.
Sure, never in a month of Sundays, can the big single compete with the likes of Yamaha’s own XJ6 in-line 4, for example, for silky smoothness. But any big single (or twin) has a unique sound, feel and low-revving timbre unique to the species that anyone not brought up on them just can’t understand.
Two years on, have I any thoughts of changing the ‘bike?
Yes.
Have I decided what I would replace it with?
No, because there’s nothing else that comes close to delivering what the Tenere delivers.
It may not be the fastest adventure bike available, but that doesn’t concern me one jot: the ‘adventure’ bike ownership experience is far more than just speeding to your destination ASAP, rather it’s about the extended experience of travelling and, yes, finally arriving at your destination.