September 17, 2001

MOST "sixteener" 125s, particularly those from the Orient, are built small and light to get the best performance possible out of their small motors. Which is fine for Oriental teenagers but South African kids often come in larger sizes.

Kymco of Korea is best known here for its range of neat and nippy scooters but also produces a range of 125 cc motorcycles, among them a husky dual-purpose machine called the Stryker.

It's a full-size dirt-digger, built to carry the kind of youngsters who play first-team rugby without looking dwarfed. It's solid but not agricultural, with smart graphics and enough high-tech features to give it all the schoolyard cred it needs.

Let's start at the top. Fling a leg over Kymco's trailie and you realise this is a big bike; with a seat height of 845 mm, tall even for adults, kortbums need not apply. The handlebars are wide, low and braced, with two decent mirrors and neat, chunky switchgear. Ahead of them is a distinctive shark-nosed nacelle, mounted on a rigid tubular steel subframe and featuring an unusual wrap-around headlight.

This houses a clean, almost minimalist, dash panel which is an object lesson in what good design can do with a limited production budget.

The all-plastic unit is so simple it looks almost toylike, but it's moulded in a crack-resistant polymer and includes speedo, rev-counter, resettable tripmeter, the usual warning lights - even a fuel-gauge!

The flight deck is topped off with flexible handguards and a short windscreen, blacked out streetfighter style. The next thing that intrudes on your consciousness is the saddle, which is too hard for comfort.

The upholstered section, however, extends all the way to the aircraft-style filler cap. This, together with the (fake) radiator covers, completely covers the fuel tank, obviating the need for a cosmetic finish on the tank.

All the bodywork is self-coloured plastic, with the exception of the few panels which are sprayed metallic silver; they also feature the only graphics, which renders the bike largely scratchproof, as well as substantially reducing finishing costs - another bit of clever design.

The tough little casting which frames the tail-light also includes a grab-rail and a smart little carrier.

All of this rides on a solidly engineered tubular steel frame, neatly sprayed in silver; rather a pity, then, that some of the welding is below par. It's strong enough - this thing is built like a bridge - but there's enough spatter around the rear engine mount to start a guano farm. The swing-arm is also steel, a no-nonsense rectangular item with snail-cam chain adjusters.

The only disappointment on the frame is the motocross-style steel footpegs; these have not been properly jigged before welding and they droop very slightly below the horizontal. It's a small thing, but it just feels wrong and makes longer rides on the Stryker a little uncomfortable.

Now for the big surprise: this budget bermblaster has an automatic choke and an electric starter. There's also a neatly cranked kick-start for backup but the push-button ignition works every time for seriously cool home runs.

The motor it lights up features the same sort of robust engineering that characterises the whole machine. It's a pushrod OHV vertical single, moderately oversquare at 56.5 x 49.5mm, with a conservative 9.2:1 compression ratio.

Its power output of just under nine kilowatts at 9 000 rpm is distinctly underwhelming, its 9.5Nm maximum torque equally so. The Stryker is no lightweight at 142kg dry and it accelerates gently up to a maximum of around 110km/h.

The motor vibrates sharply above seven and begins to sound a little stressed, so I mostly cruised around at about 80, where the motor seemed happiest.

The rest of the go department is just as straightforward; the cable-operated clutch is as light as a 125's clutch should be, and stood up to a fair amount of off-road abuse without becoming grabby. The five-speed gearbox is notchy and neutral proved elusive at the beginning of the test; how much of that was due to a very low-mileage test machine and how much to rider unfamiliarity is difficult to say, but this aspect improved markedly during the course of the test.

Braking effort is provided by a 275 mm front disc with a natty little twin-piston floating calliper; this proved strong enough to elicit complaints from the "trials universal" front tyre under hard braking but has enough feel to be used (carefully) on the dirt.

The preferred retardation in the rough comes from the single leading shoe rear drum, which is powerful enough to lock the back wheel on steep descents and sensitive enough to use in sand.

It's rod-operated, a little unsophisticated to modern eyes perhaps,but it's a doddle to adjust and, like most good designs, it's reliable because there's very little to go wrong.

The suspension, chunky 35 mm forks and a monoshock with a fabricated steel rising-rate linkage, lacks any type of adjustment and seems stiff, even harsh, on the street at traffic speeds. Allied to the hard saddle, this gives a pretty bumpy ride, but the bike is stable and predictable at any speed it can get up to. Even ridden flat out on fast sweeps, it refuses to wiggle and the front end dives very little under braking. The 21" front wheel steers accurately and turns in like a terrier after a rabbit, as well it should with handlebars 880 mm wide supplying the leverage.

The firm ride pays dividends in precise and surprisingly nippy handling on tar, while in the rough the stiff shocks refused to bottom. I took the Stryker across my favourite green belt, strewn with builder's rubble and knee-high scrub, and while it lacks the compliant ride of some pukka enduro tackle, it remains perfectly controllable in first gear at little more than walking pace.

Kymco's full-size, dual-purpose 125 has distinctive styling and a lot of street-smart features on a very tough, genuinely capable chassis.

The hard saddle and low-tech suspension make long rides tedious but that's not what this bike was designed for; it copes admirably with any terrain except thick mud.

With more grunt it would be an adequate enduro tool; as it stands, it's admirable transport for the huskiest of teenagers.

Thanks to Nick Viljoen of Mototech for the loan of the test bike, which costs R16 995.