Suzuki DL800DE and the Mother Of All Hard Parties/Enduros
Story: Donovan Fourie
Every year, hundreds of fit(-ish), young(-ish) and motivated(-ish) enduro riders make the pilgrimage to Lesotho for the annual Roof of Africa, the Mother of Hard Enduros.
To the not-so-fit (-ish), young(-ish) and motivated(-ish), it looks as though hundreds of people head to Lesotho, drag their motorcycles up and down the Maluti Mountains for three days and then head home more tired than when they arrived.
To the perpetually lazy – the sort of person who might realistically be removed from their reinforced beds one day by means of a crane through the roof – the thought of lugging bikes up and down mountains, Maluti or otherwise, proves that Dante is short a hellish circle and that the people actively participating in said lugging obviously have wires shorting somewhere important in their anatomy. Although, the enduro riders tend to have much prettier ladies hanging around them than the perpetually lazy. Maybe they are onto something.
There is a middle ground between cliffhanging your motorcycle and using the fridge door as a daily workout. It’s called Spectating and it appears to be an ever-increasing trend at Roof. It’s easy to see why – even without the sight of highly skilled nutters taking motorcycles up places the Laws of Physics would rather they didn’t, Lesotho is a spectacular place to find yourself.
Although, seeing these nutters defy Newton certainly adds a dimension to this spectacle. And it’s becoming a social occasion. Crowds of non-nutters have been gathering momentum in Lesotho every year. The organisers provide a list of spectator points for every day of the event. Points that were in the past speckled only by the odd die-hard enthusiast then on an old KLR650, are now a veritable party place. Adventure bikes, non-racing enduro machines and 4x4s, kitted with Gazebos each hosting a festive braai and bulging coolerboxes, festoon the mountains.
If anything, the nutters have a hard time getting through the crowds, who are having such a good time that they forget about the people risking life and limb to drag their motorcycles up mountains.
The journey between parties (quondam: spectator points) is equally as celebratory. While the nutters may choose to climb mountains the hard way, the roads going between – both tar and dirt – rank among some of the best in the world. Towering peaks, sometimes snowcapped even in December, loom perilously in every direction as the roads search desperately to traverse them, basking majestically as an incidental gift to all who are blessed enough to ride on them. It’s the happiness of Christmas, your birthday and your girlfriend announcing she’s home alone all wrapped into one.
On this exact blessed day, it was the Suzuki DL800 being the star of the show. It has its drawbacks – at 230kg, it should probably lay off the doughnuts, and while opening the throttle might move you forward sufficiently to complete your journey timeously, the sensation doesn’t exactly light a fire under your adrenal glands. Not that you’d notice.
The extra weight is a problem when the bike is at a near standstill, like when reversing out of a driveway, or when you’re trying to impress girls by riding it up a rocky climb near a spectator point in Lesotho, that was intended solely for 120kg enduro bikes (not that I’d ever do something like that, promise).
When not at a standstill, the DL feels solidly glued to the road. This might be the glue of extra gravity sucking it down, or simply good design, but the magic trick here is that when you are flicking it through the never-ending curves in Lesotho, it doesn’t feel heavy. Anything above 30km/h and the extra weight seems to disappear as though it were a cartoon panda inexplicably doing kung-fu.
The motor does not feel like it wants to kill you every time you open the throttle. To many a two-wheeled patron, this is a crime up there with genocide. How dare Suzuki build a motorcycle that does not cause every sensory organ in your body to light up incandescently! Well, that isn’t exactly true.
Instead of being spleen-splittingly fast, this motor is comfortable. That’s a strange description for a motor – it sounds like we are talking about a lounge sofa – but it is true.
It’s graced with double counterbalance shafts that do an incredible job of sucking horsepower, but at the same time, it feels like riding a magic carpet. Even at very low revs, it’s effortlessly compliant. It doesn’t oomph so much as waft.
The outward appearance is somewhat controversial.
I quite like the duckbilled, stacked headlight look, but some of my friends tell me my brain has a distinct absence of the section that has anything to do with style. Inwardly, the DL is a very different story. The dash is simple yet resplendent. The switches are classy and easy to use. The bars and triple-clamps are black, bold and give off a feeling of indestructibility.
And then we get to the DE part of the DL800DE’s name. It means Dirt Excellent or something like that. The wheels are wire with the front sporting a 21-inch. The suspension goes up and down a lofty 220mm and feels invincible. This is all good news in Lesotho because if you were impressed by the sinuous tar roads, you should see gravel ones. It might not quite be good enough to ride up a Roof of Africa Gold Class climb in a failed attempt to impress ladies, but everything up to that point is heavenly bliss.
More so, this bike is R195,000. Try and buy anything even close to this motorcycle for that price.
Lesotho is a bucket list place for any adventure motorcyclist. It’s the sort of place you want to get lost in for days. Having the sight of the world’s greatest enduro riders battling physics while you are being joined by a host of fellow spectators certainly helps fill these days even more. And the biggest help is a motorcycle you’re happy to spend these days on. The sort that’s more than merely a blast every time you open the throttle.
It has its drawbacks, but these only really apply if you are looking for a sordid one-night stand. The Suzuki DL800DE is not a one-night stand. It’s marriage material.