Another adventure brought key insights in the “large vs. small” adventure bike debate. I did more or less the same tracks one year apart, with an F800GS and an XR250 Tornado. Same environment, same weather, same legendary guide, same driver, vastly different experiences. This post is an ode to lightness.
That cold morning in the Atlas, in a comfortable auberge without heating, we all looked stunned and reflective, staring at the vapour fumes from our Berber omelettes. Trump is president-elect. We refreshed the news time and again as if the local 2g data flow must be carrying a hoax. Not. The feeling of jumping in a dark, cold water pool from high up isn’t going away. Brexit, Trump. What else?
Of Legend, Carbs and Lightness
A nice sample of different dry bags. All worked.
And on we went, loading the flimsy sub-frame of our rented XR250’s with a broad cross-section of drybags, bravely we pointed our front wheel to another adventure, up and around the Atlas towards the edge of the desert. Overland travel legend Chris Scott was our host for the week, a delightful combination of rigour and detachment. He has seen it all before and yet makes the trip very enriching both as rider and person. His mind, like his adventures, sees no boundaries to his curiosity.
While this was my second trip with him to the Atlas, it was very unlike the previous one for one main reason: the bike I was riding this year weighted 2x less, and had 4x less bhp than the F800GS I used in ’15. And let me leave you with no doubt: weights trumps power any way, any mile, any pistes around the Atlas. The Honda XR250 Tornado is the perfect bike for those not so perfect tracks. Widely use in South America (still built in Brazil) and Africa, it is the perfect travel bike for the kind of pistes encountered in the Atlas. We rented rather battered ones after thousands of kilometres of rocky, gnarly pistes, and no other mechanic than Larbi at Loc2Roues could keep those running for yet another week. We did not have any issues except for a broken chain on Chris’.
Marrakech, Tizi n’Test to Taliouine, Climate change
We left Marrakech from the south, dodging traffic made even more complicated by COP22, the largest climate conference in the world. Roads closed, more police than people, two wheelers intend on getting crushed, and usually aggressive Petit Taxis make riding through town either entertaining or scary, depending on your mindset. Having done it countless times, I find that things have a w
Snow capped Atlas
ay to sort themselves out and accidents are much rarer than it appears, no-one has an interest in getting hit or hitting one another, and it does look like an efficient way to use road space.
But very quickly we’re on our way up towards the Atlas. On our way to Asni we were greeted by beautiful snow capped summits on dry foregrounds. We stop for the night on the road and wake up with a newly elected leader of the free world. Chris breaks his chain the next morning and has it fixed. However, it is road all day to catch up, landing in Taliouine, home the Moroccan saffron , for the night. From there we make our way south for the first long stretch of piste through Asrargh where we have lunch at the lovely Auberge Les Etoiles, stop of the oasis.
At the Auberge Les Etoiles
After just 10 minutes of a rocky track I realised how much more sense the little XR250 made. The excess power of the 800GS required constant control which is very hard to do when always looking for balance and controlling speed. The throttle is so twitchy that you have to go to second gear to reach some smoothness, at which point stalling becomes a constant risk. I think the CR1000L AT with DCT would be the better bike for this if you need a big bore. But the 250 was perfect. Of course for long travel involving quite a bit of highway, or if you’re moving half your house on the bike, as many overlanders do, the 250’s a bit light. Just travel light and enjoy the freedom. Two up? Haven’t tried yet, will share.
I fell crossing a sandy ouerg and hurt my foot, but with 300kg on it, I could have stopped right there and then.
Asrargh to Foum Zguid, through the south
Just past Asrargh is a waterfall of dangerous proportions, especially when you ride along it on a rock track with no fence. But that’s what adventure’s about, just a little less comfortable that we should be.
Look up, not down!
We proceeded down the valley past Aguinane. A paved road starts there down the most amazing canyon. South Morocco will bless you with sceneries from all over the world in one place. The Atlas north is wetter and not unlike the Esterel in the south of France, before moving to Arizona canyons in a few miles, and then the desert’s edge, unmistakably North African. I never tire of the discoveries.
We catch up with a 50k gravel road used by trucks, P1800. A teeth-rattling corrugated road that does an excellent job of unscrewing anything with a bolt. I lost one from of the passenger foot peg, a useful piece on the long stretches of straight road to stretch legs and straighten my back. I found out the next day that it wasn’t an option anymore… Side tracks were smoother but much slower, and we had to keep pace to make it before nightfall. Well, rattle we did.
Foum Zguid is way south, and a strategic armed force centre. You couldn’t tell once there except for the rare passport check imposed on the head of the party at a checkpoint in Lamhamid. A typical small city with small buildings and an abandoned part of town, between the oasis and the dry mountains, Foum Zguid blessed us with wonderful sunset and sunrise. Must be nice to relax there.
Foum Zguid, Zagora, Agdz, meditating on a bike
I’m the boss…
The portion of the N12 between Foum Zguid and Zagora hasn’t been paved for long. It seems simple enough to lay as it is very flat and very straight. A couple of hours on another planet, maybe the moon, with a few camels to keep us on earth. A beautiful specimen of “dromadaire” was standing in the middle of the road, a large animal with the most surprisingly beautiful features, looking and behaving like the king of the desert. A dash of white on his muzzle made me think of a moustache, while his look and demeanour were clearly from a king to his subjects.
A straight road on a bare landscape may seem boring, but we all quickly moved to a state of meditation, with sound and light as the beacon, letting our minds wander to places. The constant hum of the engine, the muffled hiss of air through our earplugs, the not entirely static landscape all contribute to an out of body experience. A fascinating moment of our trip.
Group Meditation to Zagora
Zagora is now a prosperous tourist hub, with new official buildings and many, many, many shops and tourist agencies. After the obligatory picture in front of the Timbuktu board, we headed north for lunch at Kasbah Ziwana, and ancient town with a very nice restaurant on top. You’d be excused for thinking you’ve been sent back 50 years or more.
We made our way further north towards Agdz, stopping at Kasbah Itrane. After a few simple auberges, being treated with such luxury is surprising. Legend has it that a mutiny in Chris’ group a few years back forced him to check the place late one evening, only to find it fitted the budget and was indeed very nice. We don’t know if they thought it was part of the plot, but we can sure thank them for forcing Chris kicking and screaming through the old Ksar’s stately doors.
Auberge Tazlout, and Ouarzazate, a movie capital
After an excellent breakfast by the pool, we headed for the most amazing part of the trip, the Tazaert pass (2283m) between Nkoub and the N10 by Boumalne Dadès. We first took the beautiful road then the piste back towards the R108, then the pass road north a couple of kilometres after Nkoub. And what a piste that is. We went up and around and up again a rocky track that couldn’t possibly be done by anything else but big 4X4s. Although it wasn’t quite a walk in the park, 250s were perfectly suited for the couple of hours of thumping and avoiding that took us up to the Auberge Tazlout, a very simple hotel and restaurant way past the middle of nowhere.
Sedona?
Must have taken them a while to get up there of those!
Auberge Tazlout, way up there
One of us had actually slept there and remembers it being very, very cold. But after so much concentration, and another weird camel encounter, we were happy to take off the helmets and drop our bums on tiny stools. As long as it didn’t swerve and jump, we were happy. I did have a lot of respect for the guy that did those same pistes in the 800GS, not quite believing it was me. Too much power, too heavy, too high, in essence beyond my skills, and I would think most riders. Why bother?
We joined the N10 through the Dabès valley, an oasis full of Ksars, apparently, hidden behind buildings that line the road endlessly. Like Dubai along the highway, just a tad smaller. We reached Ouarzazate after 2 hours of road, dropping our bags and ourselves in the bedroom. Numerous film sets and studios dot the landscape. Most of the shots of the Temple of Jerusalem were taken there, as the barren expansive landscape and excellent light help transport us to far away land. A sight in itself, but this time around, we just wanted a rest!
Back to Marrakech, Tizi N’Tichka and that traffic again
We made our way north early enough for some of us to catch the late plane home from Marrakech. We went through the byroad via Telouet, reaching Tizi N’Tichka after some aggressive riding. I enjoyed letting it lose now that I felt comfortable on the bike. With the 250 you can’t go too fast, not like the beemer. And these roads don’t lend themselves to being overdriven, with pot holes and weak road shoulders sending cars to the middle of the road pushing you on the said shoulder… No time to worry, just do it and get back on tarmac. We came back on the N9 just before the pass.
To the Airport
The next 20k are recently rebuilt and is now as nice as a highway would look in these latitudes. Wide, gripping tarmac to enjoy some carving after days of bumps and narrow roads. We stopped for lunch about an hour from Marrakech, at which point I guided our group through (literally) town.
Marrakech’s road plan works like a sun, with roads not parallel to each other but pointing away at an angle. Pointing to what you think is the right heading may carry you kilometres away from target travelling for much longer than makes sense. I’ve been riding around there for a few years now, and can only rely on known paths for direction, not what I think is my good sense of direction. Urban mobility is not what drove the Medina’s city plan over hundreds of years. I know that anyone who got lost in the souk understands that. So I was entrusted with not getting lost, and went past our house to make sure I had a certain path back to Mohamed V and Loc2Roues to drop our bikes.
Lightness
Lightness I will trust you now and endeavour always to go for the lighter option when choosing a bike for overland travel. I ordered my CRF250 Rallye and will sell the GS, hopefully to someone who will stay on the road or flat gravel roads. Yes, I feel lighter now, seen the light.
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