Having ridden the long way around on the bitumen from Dargo, I was sitting in the Orbost Club Hotel nursing a schooner – and what I believed to be a torn rib cartilage. I’ve had considerable practice at this. The fault lines on each of my ribs have long been chronologically dated and numbered for future reference, and I’ve long learnt how to balance painkillers and alcohol before dinner.
I’d agreed to provide Deano with a neophyte’s evaluation of KTM’s entry-level adventure bike, yet here I was having difficulty throwing a leg over a 750mm high bar stool. After eight long days since I’d picked up the new KTM 390 Adventure on the Gold Coast, the TFT display was showing almost 2800km after 39 hours on the move.
With little to do in Orbost other than watch the barflies shuffle joylessly between a hole in the wall and the screens displaying the gallops, the trots and the dogs, I had time to reflect on how I was in such a sorry condition so far from home. The year 2023 marked our 42nd annual ride – the first being from Cairns to Cape York in 1981 – and was being hosted by the Victorian regulars with a seven-day loop through the High Country, starting and finishing in Jindabyne. “Nothing too technical,” promised routemeister Blacky. “I’ll be riding my BMW 1250 GS.”
For the three riders from the Tweed, starting in Jindabyne meant 14 hours of boredom on the motorway or a three-day scenic ride along the backbone of the Great Dividing Range; including the Murwillumbah-Kyogle Road, the Summerland, the Waterfall and Thunderbolts Way. The 40km of gravel forestry tracks over the range into Nundle was the perfect way to finish the first 600km day.
Despite eight hours in the saddle I suffered no discomfort, even before the first beer went down. Sitting in, rather than on the Kato’s 855mm high seat behind the efficient screen, the 390 Adventure’s ergos were well matched to my 180cm frame. With 32kW (43hp) and 37Nm there’s enough smooth power to cruise at legal limits and, while I never tried for a top speed on the new engine, I figure somewhere north of 150km/h is probable. This 390 was shod with more road-suited Continental TKC70 hoops, so I reckon I had a far easier day than Al on his KTM 950 Adventure or Doc on his KTM 640 Adventure, both of whom were sitting tall on more gravel-oriented rubber.
My experience on bitumen is limited and I’ve yet to scrape a footpeg on anything other than hard-baked clay ruts on unmaintained outback tracks, so I found the 390 Adventure capable of far higher speeds through the twisties than I care to ride – and at those speeds the brakes are excellent. The factory settings for the adjustable suspension were more than adequate for my requirements, too, so I didn’t feel the need to change anything.
As it happened, I even neglected to change the 390 Adventure’s ride mode from ‘Street’ to ‘Off-Road’ before we set off early the following morning – despite what I knew would be a challenging track. To the month, 20 years had passed since we’d tackled what’s known as ‘the Barry Way’ from Nundle, through Ellerston, to Scone. At that time, Suzuki DR-Z400s were popular and Doc had just purchased the new fully faired KTM 640 Adventure – the first bike to claim the ‘Adventure’ moniker in what proved to be a portentous marketing statement.
On that long ago occasion, we rode from Armidale to Hill End in one day, so on this occasion I figured an average speed of 50km/h would see us in Scone for a late Sunday breakfast. However, after two years of torrential rain the gnarly ascents were far more washed out than anticipated; the descents even worse.
At first I couldn’t understand my discomfort. ’Bar risers may have helped, but the main reason I couldn’t stand up with any sense of balance was that the 390’s footpegs were tilted forward, making it really awkward to move my bum back over the rear wheel – a misjudgement from a brand which should know better. In a seated position on the bitumen it’s of little consequence if the footpegs are mounted on a slight angle, but while standing up, traversing rough terrain, foot position is critical.
Here on the river flats, the track became a fairly formed road and our pace picked up before the series of rocky fords across Ben Hall Creek and then, the far, far reaches of the upper Hunter River. Never much more than axle deep or 10m wide, these crossings appeared deceptively easy, but the moss-covered football-sized rocks proved a real challenge.
I know all there is to know about such challenges: stand on the ’pegs, hold a steady throttle at the lowest revs practical, focus on a dry point on the far bank, don’t fight the ’bars, and relax. I’ve actually done this once or twice. But as soon as the rear wheel starts to spin and steps sideways, I stall the bike, my arse drops on to the seat, and both legs end up in the river, 50mm above the top of my boots.
Doc maintains he was counting, and that there were 20 such crossings. I thought 14 majors and six minors, and that I nailed a couple of the majors without putting both feet in the water. Maybe.
Then, after all the extreme difficulties of the morning, it was an innocuous three-metre concrete culvert covered by barely 10mm of water that brought Al’s KTM 950 to ground, tearing his hamstring badly enough that his only agonising option was to head back home.
The morning – almost four hours to ride 160km – had demonstrated the 390 Adventure will handle the gnarliest terrain imaginable in the bush. The short (1430mm) wheelbase is a considerable advantage in tight conditions, but at slow speeds I felt every gram of the 158kg claimed weight and the 19/17 inch wheel configuration is a definite disadvantage in the rough and slippery water crossings. That said, despite my lack of expertise, both bike and rider remained upright.
The most annoying thing was being distracted by the low-fuel hazard warning light flashing, despite my knowing the available fuel range was more than adequate for me to make it to the pub. The fuel range on a 390 Adventure is a minimum of 300km no matter how aggressively the throttle is used. By squeezing almost 15 litres into the tank the range can be increased to more than 360km.
With almost 1500km on the odometer I gave the 390 an oil change and replaced both oil filters. This task involved removal of the two-piece skid plate, something else that wasn’t considered during the design process.
When tourmeister Blacky turned up at our rendezvous in Jindabyne on his KTM 525 EXC, I knew this adventure was going to be a little more difficult than I’d anticipated. Fording the Murray River at Tom Groggin confirmed my trepidation, and 30 minutes later, as I lay in a pool of mud, my right hand swelling to the size and shade of a lawn bowl, I was hoping track conditions may improve.
The front wheel had caught the sharp lip of a deeper than anticipated pothole and flicked me head over. With a 21-inch wheel and more aggressive rubber I may have avoided crashing, though a lack of focus was the undeniable culprit. Besides, Wikipedia clearly states that ‘an adventure is an undertaking usually involving danger and unknown risks.’ The right hand-guard had snapped off completely, but luckily the brake was still serviceable.
Worse still, I’d damaged my ribs, but thanks to the back-up crew I survived the day without further damage. Other than a regimen of painkillers there was bugger all I could do about my ribs except rest up in Omeo the following day.
For hour after hour, a steady procession of motorcycles passed through town, which got me thinking about the meaning of adventure. Were the two mates – one riding a KTM 1290 Adventure, the other a CFMoto 800MT – who’d traversed the mountain passes on gravel roads any more adventurous than the couple who’d ridden their immaculate, decade-old Harley-Davidson Electra Glide on the Omeo Highway? As it turned out, all five of us were destined to continue on the Great Alpine Way across Hotham Heights to Bright. On this section the 390 Adventure was a dream. Sure I could have used a little more power on the ascent, but I felt more comfortable on the 390 than I would have on any of the aforementioned machines.
If gnarly outback adventuring is your bag, you’ll probably find the 390’s lack of torque, suspension travel, ground clearance and fuel range lacking. But anywhere else in Australia’s Adventureland, the 390 will, very comfortably, handle anything you can throw at it. As a commuter, even with the optional panniers fitted, it’s a neat lane-splitter, and the suspension will soak up the worst back-country roads as a stable, predictable and a great confidence builder.
Test Peter Whitaker + Photography PW & ADB
