Out & about
How flexible is the Kawasaki Versys 1100 SE Grand Tourer? Simon Weir heads to the Pyrenees to find out
PHOTOGRAPHY PIERS DRURY, TOM DEAKIN, BRUCE SMART, SIMON WEIR, LOUISE WORSFOLD
The view over the edge of the road is incredible. Rows of rumpled rocky hills falling away into the hazy distance, all in shades of sun-kissed tan, brown and yellow, dotted with the occasional pale green patches and one bright-blue lake.
Not that I have too much brain space to spare for admiring it. There’s a king-size hairpin fast approaching and I need to concentrate on that, not the landscape. A little pressure on the outside footpeg, tread on the gear lever – no clutch needed with the seamless quickshifter – and then I’m leaning, head craned over my shoulder to pick an apex.
As the Kawasaki Versys 1100 SE drops in, I’m opening the throttle again, gently at first, picking it up, then driving hard onto the next straight. I click clutchlessly into third, looking through the next sequence of bends – with just enough time for another quick glance over the Armco to that magnificent view.
This is Coll de Jou, outside Solsona in the Spanish Pyrenees, and is as close to a perfect motorcycling moment as it gets: blue skies, just over 30°C, on a road with an immaculate surface, an intoxicating blend of corners and zero traffic. Absolutely none. On a bike that dances daintily through the tight turns, rips through the open ones and howls down the straights like an angry beast.
I know I’m lucky everything has come together to align like this – it feels like one of those rides that will still stand out in 10 years’ time. A real memory, not just a moment to be forgotten.
I wasn’t so lucky at the start of the week, crossing rain-lashed England for the ferry to Santander. I’m here leading a trip for ChickenStrips, the tour company I operate with popular YouTuber Bruce ‘Teapot One’ Smart. Half the group are regulars, old friends, so there’s a great atmosphere from the word go as we head to the Pyrenees.
The camaraderie counts, because frankly things don’t start exactly according to plan, weather-wise. It’s okay leaving the port, but the next day swings between sunshine and showers. After a bright start over Col d’Osquich, the third day – our first full day in the mountains – is closer to a full day in the clouds.
The Versys is good even in these bad conditions. The screen is surprisingly protective, the heated grips are spot-on and the sensitive throttle means there’s no need to bother the traction control system. There is a Rain mode option, but I leave it in Sport (rather than Road) as the bike navigates sure-footedly between slippery tar snakes.
I have changed the tyres, as I killed the OE Bridgestone T32s in only 3400 miles (I’ve had more than 6000 from these on other bikes), but this fully luggaged Grand Tourer edition is 259kg with its 21-litre tank brimmed – before adding 110kg of me plus all my bags. The SE has Showa semi-active suspension, the rear preload effortlessly adjusted at the press of a button.
We creep over Cols d’Aubisque and Soulor, but skip the Tourmalet – which is partially open but fully swathed in cloud – to take the low roads through Lourdes and BagnèresdeBigorre to ride the Col d’Aspin, the gauzy cloud no longer thick enough to conceal the views. Mercifully, the weather finally comes good as we cross Col du Portillon into Spain at the end of the day.
Next morning, setting off to ride the epic hairpins of Port de la Bonaigua, the Versys feels like a different bike. With fully dry roads, I can be harder on the throttle and the big Kawasaki loves it.
There’s a glorious noise from the airbox as the revs rise. Peak power is 136bhp at 9000rpm, just 1500rpm short of the limiter, but it’s the torque that counts – a bulging 82lb·ft peak at 7600rpm. Driving from 5000-8000rpm really fires it out of every corner and keeps it feeling urgent, as I tap dance between second and third and, occasionally, down to first.
‘This is as close to a perfect motorcycling moment as it gets’
When the road changes from the C28 to the C13 at the foot of the pass, it changes character too: no more hairpins, just miles of immaculate open bends. With bigger throttle openings, carrying more revs without rushing through the gears, the Versys is flickable and laser-accurate – more like some lightweight sportsbike than a heavyweight sports-tourer. Though the reality of its size is a rock-solid stability and an oily-smooth ride quality. This is where the bike feels most at home – on fast, flowing, twisty roads.
It copes with traffic, too. Crossing Andorra is always congested but we seem to have hit the peak of both busyness and bad drivers. With its panniers fitted the Versys is wide, so filtering isn’t something I rush to do, but it trickles through the traffic, a gentle throttle and effective rear brake keeping it ultra-smooth and stable.
We eventually escape Andorra over the Envalira Pass – the highest in the Pyrenees – swooping through France and then back into Spain to start an on-again, off-again love affair with the N-260. This famous road runs along the Pyrenees, from the Med to Sabiñánigo. We start with one of my favourite stretches, heading to our overnight stop in Ripoll. The surface isn’t as perfect as it once was, but it’s still good enough that everyone is buzzing when we get off the bikes.
Next day we start with some seriously twisty roads. Crazy twisty. It does take a bit of muscle to hustle the big Kawasaki through the really tight stuff, but it remains unshakeably accurate as I lever it from full lean left to full lean right to full lean left again… the clocks store the max lean angle and it’s 43° each side when the pegs touch the tarmac.
Then things start to open up again, with a mix of flowing roads and serpentine ones, heading over Coll du Jou and back to pick up another stretch of the N260 to Aínsa. This is quite a long day, but I’m not cramped or aching by the end of it. The seat is supportive, the screen keeps things turbulence-free, and I could easily do another two hours on the Versys.
The journey back to the port starts with the old road, the N-260a climbing through Broto before dropping to Sabiñánigo – where there’s a bit of motorway across the plains to Jaca. The Versys shrugs it all off. Effortless. We get off the motorway for the scenic lakeside N-240 then flow through the hills, heading for our final night before the ferry.
This is my third tour on the Versys 1100 SE Grand Tourer and it really is exactly the bike for the job. The luggage means I can carry everything – not just clothes and laptop, but also first aid kit, locks and chains, tools, chain lube (easily applied thanks to the main stand) and there’s still room to spare.
But what makes it really work is the ride. In bad conditions, it feels like the Versys is looking after me; in good conditions, it’s more like it’s rewarding me. And when I get a ride like the one over Coll de Jou… The big Kawasaki makes it special – and I’ll remember that for a very long time. SW
Pyrenean perfection
» The Pyrenees are almost two mountain ranges for the price of one, with the French and Spanish sides having subtly different characters. They’re packed with amazing riding – in both countries, and criss-crossing the border. As the Pyrenees are lower and further south than the Alps, the higher passes usually open a little earlier and close a little later.
While there are plenty of famous roads – the Tour de France has popularised the passes of Tourmalet, Aspin, Soulor and Aubisque, and Spain has the N-260 – these mountains are stuffed with hidden gems. Coll de Jou, Col de la Pierre St Martin, the dead-end roads to the Cirque du Gavarnie or Lac de CapdeLong… There’s so much to explore. Take the time to do it.
» Find more routes and tours at simonweir.co.uk