2021 UPDATE: The long-rumored 2022 model (Gen 3) has been released, now fuel-injected and heavier, with a couple of small updates. Read more here: https://www.advpulse.com/adv-news/new-kawasaki-klr-650/

I had no idea what I wanted in my first motorcycle. It was early 2014, and I had found myself a good, consistent job working at a flexographic label factory three days a week. Paid for forty hours and four days off was a pretty nice gig for a couple of years. It was a schedule that would allow me all sorts of time to acquaint myself with my newfound interest in riding. I can’t recall anything in my childhood that drew me to motorcycles. It wasn’t some decades-long yearning or fascination, like some children might have with trains or firetrucks.

Hell, I was afraid of them. My cousin Cory had a dirt bike before he was a teenager, and I refused to try it out. It was many years later, in my late 20s, that I could begin to picture myself on two wheels with a tank of gas between my legs. My cousin Chris (who I’ve shared the Alaska trip with back in 2016) had purchased a BMW F650GS. He took it with him on the road in the back of his tractor-trailer in true wanderlust fashion.

Able to access the roads and trails his truck obviously couldn’t, it was an offering of motorcycle I’d never seen before: dual-sport. Capable of racking up highway miles, yet comfortable enough off the gravel to turn into some off-road exploration. BMW’s GS series would eventually make much more sense to me in the coming years.

I found the bike visually appealing and the utility of it interesting. But it wasn’t until later that year, while in college, that I would get a sense of the joy of riding. “Please, please, please, will you come for a ride with me?” my classmate and pseudo-girlfriend begged of me. A smirk and an eye roll formed on my face where they’re usually not seen together, not unlike a politician and a clear conscience. I’m not going to ride on the back of a girl’s motorcycle! No way!

After a couple of miles on her Ninja 250, we arrived back at“Well, I want one now!” and that little story could serve as pure embarrassment, if it were true. Okay, yes, it did happen, and I couldn’t care less what anyone thinks! That experience led to a plethora of truly amazing memories in the following years. When it was nearing time to purchase, a lot of my options tended to be below $1200. Something that looked decent for a starting bike, like a Honda Sabre V65. Nothing bulky like a cruiser/bagger and twisted handlebars. Nothing sporty like a Ninja or GSXR. Just something with “flat” bars and reliable.

When it came time to tick off all the requirements I had (ease of maintenance, overall cost, reliability), the KLR650 won out ahead. We found a Craigslist ad for a 1997 with around 20,000 miles on the engine.

The owner, followed by his wife, drove up to me for a couple of hours for the test ride. I handed my cousin Jesse the keys, since he had riding experience. After chatting with the seller a while about the KLR, Jesse came back and gave it his seal of approval. Nothing was mechanically wrong with it. It rode straight and true and presented no red flags. $1900 out of my pocket, and now I was its third owner. Soon, I would set up the Motorcycle Safety Foundation riding course to get my permit and license.

It’s these qualities that have tenured it’s reputation for being simply bulletproof and beloved amongst the adventure riding communities across the globe.

The years between then and my 2016 Alaska trip would be too much standard fluff, so there’s little purpose in reminiscing about that. What I can look back upon, though, are general sentiments that other KLR650 riders have shared over the two generations released of the bike. 1987-2007 being the first generation, and 2008-2018 being the second generation.

The second generation of KLRs received mostly cosmetic changes, but otherwise was the standard-fare platform that Kawasaki had utilized since the 80s. It was a design that had no requirement to level with the playing field. Down to its last model release year of 2018, the KLR was still a single-cylinder 650cc, carbureted, water-cooled dual-sport with cable clutch, brakes, and throttle.

These pigs (as affectionately named by KLR communities), aptly named for their top-heavy weight and tall seat height, were so simple to work on. I was personally able to crack open the engine and replace the Balancer Chain Adjuster Lever (aka “doohickey”) myself with a Clymer manual and YouTube. I had no mechanical experience prior to that aside from maybe a tire change or brake bleeding. Funnily enough, a few leftover bolts on the garage floor later confirmed this.

Often billed as “the Jeep” of motorcycles for its ability to do everything broadly but not supremely in one area, KLRs have traveled the world over. There is no doubt it has rolled in the millions of miles cumulatively.

With routine oil changes and chain maintenance, my ’97 KLR fared to Alaska and back to Wisconsin in under 11,000 miles. I had no major issues aside from the speedometer dying. This was likely due to the bike’s age and the speedometer being cable-driven down to the front wheel hub. Engine-wise, however, it would fire up the first time. I was most impressed with this in colder temperatures in the late fall of 15-25F. If the roads were free of ice from rain and it started, it meant I rode to work.

With tens of pounds of weight on the back, it was surprisingly nimble.

I remember dipping with ease into the corners of Glacier National Park. Traversing up and through rocky and rutted terrain of Cody, Wyoming. Or riding off the beaten path in South Dakota, despite its 21″ front wheel. Hours on slab highway, it would become fatiguing, droning on at 80-90 MPH. The single’s vibration traveling up the bars into my hands was at times quite annoying. But, not once did it signal any complaint or give up; it just kept going.

It’s these qualities that have cemented its reputation for being simply bulletproof.

It remains beloved amongst the adventure riding communities across the globe. It won’t win awards or impress the ladies, but it will bring fun and utility on a budget. For the adventure- and exploration-minded rider yearning to escape traffic, the KLR is a bargain. There is no doubt that for years and decades, the KLR650 will continue to be a viable option for new riders. Those new riders will recognize a valuable ride with its merit-coated quirks. The end of Kawasaki’s 31-year-long run is not without some uncomfortable squirming and concerns in the KLR650 communities. Many riders wonder what Kawasaki will bestow upon them in the form of a replacement.

Surely fuel injection would be a prerequisite due to recent emissions-based policies around the globe. Though some riders simply have no desire for the conveniences of “modern” fuel injection. These particular riders might espouse “from my cold, dead hands!” if Kawasaki releases them of their treasured carburetors. Cue an eye roll and cry me a river, because forward from here could be a true spiritual successor to the KLR.

Kawasaki didn’t tease or release any KLR650 replacements at its 2018 EICMA show.

Some may interpret this just as an Ouija board might spell “doomed”. For the brand loyalists, there really is nothing on offer like the KLR650, and I consider that a good move for the time being. Give them time to study the market, which is flooding with all sorts of adventure bike releases lately. Kawasaki doesn’t need to compete against the likes of KTM or BMW or Yamaha. Aside from perhaps Suzuki’s DR-650, there hasn’t been a direct KLR650 competitor.

Perhaps it leaves an opportunity for Kawasaki to use the KLR’s consistent, rock-solid history as a motivation towards something even better. It should remain every bit as familiar and affordable. Until then, there’s no shortage of parts and rideable KLRs to keep those riders in the pack.