X, X, Triangle, ,Square, X, Square, L1, R2, L2, R1 - Cheat code

Where's the Line Between Adventure and Dual-Sport/Enduro?

With every new motorcycle unveiled in this segment, the line blurs a little more. So, I figured I’d test the boundaries—and maybe blur them even further—by taking my road-legal Beta RR430 (yes, it can be road registered, despite what the naysayers think) on a local monthly ADV ride.

The call went out on the local adventure riding Facebook page:
“Odlins Road, 9am this Sunday.”

Unfortunately, the Tenere’s rego had expired the day before. But the Beta? Still legal-tegal. Truth be told, I’d taken the Tenere down Odlins Road before, and even in dry summer conditions, it was an absolute mission. So I spent about an hour reinstalling the indicators and replacing the busted tail light—prepping the Beta for battle.

Taking a road-legal enduro on what’s traditionally considered an adventure ride is basically like entering a cheat code:
Unlock: Unlimited grip.
Unlock: Low weight.
Unlock: God mode.

We met at the summit of Akatarawa Road around 10am. The weather was classic Wellington—cold, damp, and blustery. We quickly aired down the tyres and dropped into Odlins Road. Barely two minutes in, we hit our first obstacle: a steep, rocky climb. With enough commitment and ground clearance, you can get most bikes up here, but I’d never personally attempted this section before. The one other time I’d brought a bike here, we had to manhandle it up—because back then, the Tenere was my daily commuter, and I couldn’t afford to risk damaging it.

This time? No such worries.

First up was a guy on a KTM Six Days. He took the hard line but quickly discovered how slippery the clay wall was, losing rear traction and dropping the bike halfway up. Next, a rider on a Kawasaki dual-sport opted for the easier left-hand line and cruised up without any drama.

Mixed results so far.

I gathered my nerve and gave it a go—first gear, about 5000 rpm. I breezed up the easy line with zero fuss: no wheelspin, no hesitation, just clean drive. That gave me a huge confidence boost for what was to come. To be fair, I was running full knobbies and piloting one of the lightest bikes there.

We stayed to help the rest of the crew up the climb. Those who struggled were either running less aggressive tyres, lacking momentum, or both.

The next section was a series of corners riddled with deep rain ruts and 4WD-sized potholes. This is where line choice becomes crucial—unless you’re on something like the Beta. I took the far outside line on the first corner and crossed over midway up—something I’d never attempt on a big bike—but the Beta floated through it effortlessly. By now, I was getting cocky.

For the rest of the ride, I barely had to think about line choice. Just point, shoot, ride the bumps, and keep the throttle pinned. Honestly, it took a lot of the challenge out of it, but it felt like I’d activated some kind of ADV cheat code.

We made incredible time. Normally, the trip from the car park to the hut and back is a full-day mission. This time, we hit the hut in just over an hour. But the ride wasn’t over. We pushed on, crossed the river past the hut, and explored a little further down the trail. About 1.5km past the hut, the track had been almost completely washed away, so we stopped for a breather.

This is when I glanced at the fuel level and started to feel a bit uneasy.

I’d never really tested the Beta’s range before. In theory, 100km on a tank should be doable—but the gauge suggested I might be pushing my luck. Still, we turned around and headed back.

I didn’t exactly ride conservatively on the return. With someone to chase—namely the guy on the Six Days—I got stuck in. It was a rapid, thrilling ride back to the car park. But when I rejoined Akatarawa Road, I looked down and saw the fuel light glowing ominously.

I’d ridden from Silverstream to the top of Akatarawa Road, then down to the hut and back—roughly 70km in total. But I still had about 30km to get home. I figured I’d need to ride carefully to conserve what fuel was left, which suited the wet roads and knobbly tyres just fine.

I made it to the nearest fuel station in Upper Hutt… barely. As I rolled into my driveway, the engine coughed and spluttered—empty. So now I know: 94km is about the Beta’s limit on a single tank.

Now, if only I could find the cheat code for unlimited fuel and zero tyre wear. That’d be nice, wouldn’t it?

I’m now seriously considering setting the Beta up for light adventure duties—maybe a larger tank, some soft luggage, and a few other tweaks.