Getting into Adventure Green

The first time I rode from Delhi
to Chandigarh, it was with my
mate Paddy Minne on two
Royal Enfields, on the first leg of a
7,000-mile ride back to the UK.
It was 1998, I’d passed my bike test
two years earlier, and ridden 30 miles
on a bike in my life. Including the
test. This time, I was 18 years older,
and not a bit wiser, but at least the
Royal Enfield was better than ours
back then, which were made of little
more than tinfoil and hope.
The new Enfield Himalayan, it’s
designed for newbies moving up
from a 125cc machine and with
their gaze fixed on the horizon, just
as good at going to the shops as to
the Himalayas.
Which was exactly where I was
heading, on the Himalayan
Odyssey, one of a host of official
Royal Enfield rides from a company
already making 400,000 bikes
a year, with a new 750cc twin
in the offing, and hell bent on
global domination of mid-range
motorcycling by 2020.
Rather than fitting the existing
500cc Bullet engine with a small
bore kit, the Himalayan’s 411cc
lump is fresh off the drawing board,
and has a carb rather than injection.
Remember those?
Enfield’s rationale is that a carb is
easier to fix in the back of beyond
by a man with a hammer, while
the bike’s adventure credentials
are ticked by a Harris chassis,
rear mono-shock, long-travel
suspension, crash bars, upswept
exhaust and 21in front wheel.
The 15-litre tank may not sound
much by GS Adventure standards,
but with the frugal long-stroke engine
giving upwards of 80mpg, it’s enough
for a range of up to 230 miles.
The biggest surprise, though, as I
climbed aboard in Delhi, was the
dash. Compared to my Enfield,
which had a speedo and ammeter,
this was like the instrument panel
of the Space Shuttle, with a speedo,
tacho and a digital panel telling
you everything to the time of high
tide in Hong Kong. It even has a
compass, just in case you get lost on
the way to Sainsbury’s.
As I rode north on the dual
carriageway out of Delhi with 75
Indian riders on various Enfields
and a smattering of Australians,
French and Colombians, it was 46C
and as humid as a Turkish bath.
I could tell I was in India when I
passed an elephant trundling along
the slow lane, but at least he was
going the right way; the last time,
I’d met a horse walking the other
way down the fast lane, although
I use the term lane loosely, since
locals pay little attention to them,
traffic lights or other road users.
Still, it’s not as bad as Naples.
As for the bike, acceleration, as
you’d expect with only 25 horses
under the tank, didn’t set my pants
on fire, although to be fair, my pants
were so soggy due to the heat and
humidity that even a Multistrada
running on methanol would have
failed to ignite them.
Having said that, it’s perky enough
if you keep it in the sweet spot
between 3,000 and 5,000rpm, and
the real surprise was that even at
a top speed nudging 75mph, the
engine’s balance shaft kept it so
smooth that the mirrors were rocksolid
compared to the vibey 500cc
Bullet and 535cc Continental GT.
Mind you, at that speed, the engine
was talking to me, and what it was
saying in cultivated Anglo-Indian
tones was: “I say, old chap, are
you late for an appointment or
something?” I apologised profusely,
and settled back to a contented
55mph and 5,000rpm.
“I SAY OLD CHAP,
ARE YOU LATE FOR
AN APPOINTMENT
OR SOMETHING?”
Handling was sweet and light, and
the combination of that 21in front
wheel and 8in and 7in suspension
travel on the front and rear
respectively soaked up even the most
ham-fisted efforts of RJ Singh, voted
India’s worst road builder for the
past three years. However, the real
test would come in the mountains,
where every spring the Himalayas
chew up the roads and spit them
out to teach humans a lesson about
trying to conquer nature.
The brakes, meanwhile, have only
one disc up front, but it’s more than
adequate with only 183kg of bike
to haul in, although with no slipper
clutch, the back wheel locked quite
easily when changing down to first.
Still, with such a light bike it
was never a problem, and it
was accompanied by a delicious
symphony of pops and barps from
the exhaust.
Only faults? A seat designed for
Indian riders, who weigh the same