A Non-Curmudgeon Review Of The TW200

[Forgive the navel gazing. I was thinking aloud and started typing.]

My motorcycle (like its rider) is an “odd duck”. Neither fish nor fowl, it seems to baffle everyone. In a parking lot, non-riders and kids smile appreciatively. Karens mentally assume I’m a domestic terrorist. Cruiser riders lean back as if they might catch something. Other motorcycle riders hope someday my finances improve so I can own a “real” motorcycle. I appreciate their sense of charity, never mentioning I’ve been ignoring a nice chromed cruiser in my garage.

At a trailhead, you’ll find there are almost no motorcycles off road anymore. ATVs nuked the dirtbike as thoroughly as the car nuked the horse. Yes there are still dual sports and dedicated dirtbikes out there. Also the Amish still plow with Percherons.

This is how it should be. ATVs may have begun as cantankerous three wheeled oddities but capitalist competition never sleeps. So long as customers had money (who knows how long that’ll last), each ATV was better, more sophisticated, and expensive than the last. ATVs are now shocklingly refined… powerful engines, good suspension, fine brakes, power steering is becoming common place… and they’re expensive. The cheapest new ATV out there will set you back $8K and $10K isn’t uncommon.

Yet these amazing creations, ATVs, are slowly losing the race. UTVs dispense with handlebars and instead come with two person bench seats, steering wheels, windshields, roll over cages, roofs, doors, cargo beds, you name it. They’re already the majority. These too are truly marvels of technology. They’re even more expensive. The expense does not seem to hinder their growth even a little bit.

Into this mechanical cold war I roll up with a bike that’s literally 1987 technology. Simple, cheap, crude, and small; it costs 1/2 to 1/3 of the cheapest ATVs and UTVs and I can tell where all that extra money goes when I ride in the midst of modern machines. Motorcycles take a lot more effort to handle than even the most fire breathing ATV. Dirtbikes get dumped all the time. In the first months I’d owned mine I’d sunk in a pond, crashed into a tree, and (more than once) landed on my side. You have to be plumb loco with an ATV to roll it. Yes, it can be done (I’ve done it), but for the most part ATV engineering does most of the work. Point the handlebar or steering wheel (!) at the general direction and everything from exceptional suspensions to limited slip differentials engage to handle whatever the surface offers. I struggle to do that manually on my dirt bike.

There’s a learning curve to two wheels on sand, rocks, or lose gravel. This means I’m using all my mind and body to toddle along at maybe 80% of the speed of a UTV driven by a fool who can barely understand what a steering wheel does.

Which brings me to a trail ride around Independence Day. I loaned a friend my old ATV and saddled up on my TW 200. Then we hit forestry roads for a fine afternoon. I had a grand time but there was no getting around it… I was slower than the ATV and worked harder at it. Getting from A to B, I had the inferior machine. I started to wonder if I’d made the wrong decision. I had fun… but felt like I was holding things up.

A month later I went on a ride alone. The story is going live in a series of posts right now. It was glorious! The heat was brutal. The conditions beautiful but exhausting… yet I didn’t care. I had soooooo much fun! I can’t even explain why, it was just super happy fun time.

I was idly listening to this review when he said something that clicked. The reviewer is far more experienced than I. He’s ridden more dirtbikes than I’ve ever seen, much of it in terrain that would kick my ass, and probably at speeds that would shake my nerve. Then, in a twist of events he wound up on a borrowed TW200… the odd duck. He soon understood that it’s a beast entirely unlike the other machines and it’s all about going slow and mellow. Ride like you’re there to enjoy nature (instead of tear through it) and the machine becomes perfect.

Around 9:30 he says “The TW is the perfect bike for the beginner or the individualist that just rides at their own pace.” That’s the thing I couldn’t explain before. Riding with my friend on my loaner ATV it felt slow. Riding alone a month later it moved at the perfect speed. An individualist at his own pace. Brilliant! If you’re wondering what I’m talking about, here’s the review.

While we’re at it, I’ll add the video from FortNine that didn’t just sell me on the bike but entranced me with it’s very idea. I’m not alone. Other TW buyers have referred to the same video.

“Did you see that thing about Canadian deserts?”

“Yep, bought mine six months later.”

Warning, if you buy one of these… you’ll have far more fun than you expect. Enjoy.

Update: FortNine, amid the romantic visuals, drops a big hint to anyone who buys such a machine. “On a bike that never falters, it’s easy to get caught way out there.” Very important statement there! Unless you’ve hiked through 30 miles of forest in the rain, you’ve no idea what can happen. “30 miles” is nothing until it’s everything. My bike is loaded with more survival gear than you’ll see on any “normal” ATV/UTV/dirtbike. It’s carefully tested and I’m constantly refining what I carry. I bring enough tools to fix anything I know how to fix and I take enough food and water that I’ll have time to do it.

This goes double if you’re solo. Nearly every ATV / UTV / dirtbike I’ve seen has traveled in packs. (Same with snowmobiles!) I ride alone and the TW is ideally suited for the loner. Take his (and my) warning to heart; if you go alone, cover your ass! (Also, you should occasionally go alone into the wild if you can. It’s good for you! What hollowness has taken root within the soul of mankind that people are universally afraid to be alone in nature?)