On the trail of the Paris-Dakar Rally: XT 500 and Caballero 500 Superleggenda in Morocco

This is the story of a grandmother, in search of a granddaughter. The grandmother is the enduro legend YAMAHA XT 500, Year of manufacture 1980. Presented for the first time in 1976 in Marrakech, to then win the Paris-Dakar Rally in ’79 and ’80. As a granddaughter presents itself the FANTIC Caballero 500 Superleggenda, Year of manufacture 2020 and with no serious victories in the bag.

At 42 years of age, the XT is at an age where urgent attention should be paid to managing its heritage. What is there to inherit? And is it worth making claims, or is all that remains is a box of nostalgic junk?

A motorcycle that founded a new vehicle genre, reduced motorcycling to its core, delivered adventure, honesty and reliability to its rider. A Motorcycle, “at which you could still do everything yourself,” rave fans.

But even here the ravages of time and certain technical innovations can not or would not want to close the motorcyclist of the current decade also not at all: Electric starter, fuel injection, disc brakes, 12V electrics and an adjustable chassis are to be called progress. The original spirit of the XT must therefore be preserved, but presented in a new guise.

Initially, a conversion was planned for the granddaughter – the Caballero “Rally” was to become a more mature enduro. And who better than the mother of all enduros? Rims and decor were adapted accordingly, useless parts were cut and heavy parts were replaced by light ones. Otherwise, the newly christened “Superleggenda” was already well in the tradition of the XT: single-cylinder, 450cc, off-road, light.

The newfound granddaughter was now able to prove herself on a first trial run through the Alps: South Tyrol, Stelvio, Livigno. Admittedly, the high Alpine passes are not really home to weak single-cylinder engines. What grandmother and granddaughter lack in engine power, however, both vehicles make up for in handiness. Quite a few of the large touring enduros frequently found here could be overtaken at more than 2000m above sea level despite the lack of oxygen. Thanks to their weight class, the two new relatives easily waved their way through every turn.

The conviction of the created project and the confidence in the Motorcycles grew, driver and machine harmonized. Traveling felt the way it should on a Motorcycle: easy.
The final test was to take place where it all began 47 years ago: In the Moroccan desert.

After a night ride, the ferry spits us out on the African continent. As quickly as possible we look for the next gravel road, on which we enjoy the feeling of having adventure under our wheels for about 3km. The adventure is joined by a rather large piece of wire that dots the rear wheel of the Caballero. Here also does not help the much proven breakdown spray. Our adventure comes to an abrupt end – or is just beginning in earnest.

We start the retreat: Weight on the handlebars, a maximum of 50 km/h and thanks to the very stiff MITAS E-09 rubber we make it back to town. There we make acquaintance with the Moroccan helpfulness. Immediately a willing helper is found, who organizes a small workshop for us with oil-smeared faces and safety toes.

After about 1 hour we are ready to drive again and with a queasy feeling back on the slope.

Parallel to the Algerian border we drive south and Sahara. The landscape is barren, the midday heat oppressive. Stone and rocky desert demand quite a bit from the machines here.

We spend the night on the Moroccan plateau, the Rekam. We are awakened the next morning by the bleating of a flock of sheep.

To protect ourselves from the wind, we hid behind a ruined house, where we are now warmly greeted by the grazing animals.

Around noon we stop in the shade of an olive tree and listen to nature – accompanied by a soft hiss. When we finally want to leave again, we realize what the hissing was: the escaping air from the rear wheel of the Superleggenda. The great midday heat probably conquered the patch. So the same game all over again: back to the last town, look for a workshop, mend the tire. Dinner with the workshop crew.

Late in the afternoon, as darkness falls, we plan to stock up on supplies in a village. A lack of water suddenly becomes a minor problem, because the rear tire in question is flat again. So it’s starting to get weird. Presumably the silicone from the puncture spray prevents a proper connection between patch and hose. But conjecture won’t get us anywhere here – we need to patch again. With headlamp and under observation of half the village, the rear wheel is dismantled again at the roadside…

Whether out of pity or pure helpfulness remains uncertain – but we still get a gift of repair kit, which significantly upgrades our ship’s train.

And again we start one of the unloved night drives to search for a place to sleep and finally enjoy our longed-for dinner.

The approach to Col de Belkassem is the first stretch for us that really feels like desert. The few kilometers on the map seem like an endless expanse. A corrugated iron track under the wheels through nowhere, dust in the face and from the cloudless sky the sun burns down vertically. The thrill of adventure alone draws us into the spell of this otherwise inhospitable region.

Nevertheless, we reach the pass unharmed, which impresses neither with incredible altitude meters, nor with slope.

Over a few hairpin bends of sharp rock, the path winds its way to the top of the pass. Unlike at the Stilfser Joch, no sausage stand awaits us here. Still beautiful, at our feet now lies: even more desert.

After passing Budnib, we now partly blindly follow the GPX track or randomly any vehicle tracks and the cardinal direction. Deeper and deeper we get into the stone desert: The surface is rough and very rutted, and again corrugated iron road. We try to find the optimal speed so that the vehicles are not subjected to such high stress. It’s not fun. As far as the eye can see, there is only a landscape of scree shimmering in the midday heat and mountains far away on the horizon. No tree, no shrub under which one could seek shelter – as if on the proverbial platter. We realize that a breakdown here would cause serious problems.

But first we marvel at a free-roaming camel family. Animals that represent the desert like no other living creature. Peacefully huddle on the stone floor, no shade, no grass, no water. A magical moment.

But unfortunately, even this is short-lived: while I am looking at the camels, my colleague casts a worried glance at the rear wheel of the Superleggenda. The tire is flat again – that’s more than clumsy. There is no workshop let alone a human gathering in sight. Towing service or assembly iron: Missing.

So we have to hope and fear again that the tire does not go to its knees and its stiffness becomes an advantage for us.

At low speed we crawl out of the desert back to civilization.

At the next gas station we dismantle the rear wheel again and try to get a new tube, which unfortunately does not succeed. Therefore, we patch the tube again and drive after the now fourth flat tire again into the night.

These night rides have a “charm” all their own: the 6V onboard electronics of the XT are just old, the light dim. That the XT rides in the rear is self-evident, but it is shameful that the Caballero’s license plate light illuminates the road better than the XT’s front headlight.

Once again we set up our night camp wildly in the middle of nowhere. In the darkness we cannot see what is around us, only the sandy ground is visible. The temperatures are very pleasant despite the wind that comes up during the night. And the next morning reliably greets us with the rising sun over the desert – a few 100 meters away from the road towards Merzouga.

Around noon we finally reach Merzouga. The meeting and starting point for tourists who want to go to the Sahara or at least a photo of the “Grande Dune de Merzouga”.

At a local motorcycle tour supplier we now get a new hose – borrowed from a KTM 450 – as well as mounting irons and an air pump. Now we are equipped.

To get in the mood, we drive the single cylinders for a while through the red desert sand, up and down the dunes, collect spectacular shots and surf with the single cylinders past camels through real desert.

Not seen in pictures: The hotels and camel rentals on the tarred road in the background. Very controlled adventure, then.

Later in the afternoon we are almost alone on our way to the Sahara; only isolated hostels in the nowhere bear witness to tourism.

The evening light creates a wonderful scenery, the temperature is pleasant and without haste we leave the last meters of asphalt. The former Dakar route seems to be quite busy otherwise: Deep potholes and corrugated metal don’t allow for any flow. Again and again we deviate from the main lane and drive large curves on untraveled ground. The speed varies quite a lot, sometimes we make progress with 70-80km/h – but through the sand holes due to lack of power only with 20-30km/h.

But we don’t have time constraints anyway. This is the route we want to enjoy, that’s what we are here for. I wonder if any memories are awakened in the XT? Whereas the Dakar Rally did not even pass through Morocco in its time. It was not until the 1990s that the route went through this part of the Sahara.

So now we are in the middle of this Sahara at the golden hour: a gently rising sea of dunes, dotted with individual grass bushes. The wind has evenly provided the sand cover with a wave pattern, which is interrupted here and there by traces of a snake. To the left, a mountain range looms on the horizon, and to the right, the striking red dunes stand before us. If you now turn off the rumble of the single-cylinder, you hear exactly nothing. Just rest.

A wonderful place to stay – A few kilometers behind Ouzina we set up camp for the night and

spread our tarp between XT and Caballero. Here there are neither disturbing flying insects, nor street dogs. We suppress the thought of snakes or scorpions with the view of the breathtaking starry sky. This hostel has a thousand stars.

Our breakfast buffet consists of a freshly brewed coffee. The scent in your nose, the sun on your face. What a wonderful start to the day!

In Ramilia, we fill up with gasoline from 5l disposable water cans at the local general store and then fight our way through a dry riverbed. Between dunes we surf through the Fesh Fesh and have to be careful not to get stranded. Now we are actually missing a few horsepower. Although the FANTIC is a bit stronger around the chest and has the nose in front, the XT trudges behind with incredibly low RPM – the 500cc engine is almost impossible to stall. The flywheel mass on the crankshaft must come from a tractor.

Although we were warned about this section of the route, grandmother and granddaughter do well on the tracks of the great rally.

And maybe there is even more lack of driving skills: In the middle of the desert we come across a small river course that we have to cross. The combination of sand and mud is hard to judge – I end up with the Superleggenda on my nose. It’s quite an achievement to get your feet wet in the Sahara.

But there are still another 100 kilometers of desert ahead of us, which will demand a lot from us. The constantly changing ground requires the highest concentration. One moment we can give the horses the spurs because the ground is bolt flat, the next we suddenly have to slow down and lurch through a sand nest. On the one hand, we have to keep an eye on the navi and the vehicle tracks in order not to get completely off track, on the other hand, we often have to look for alternative routes because the indicated route is already very ruined. So we work our way forward kilometer by kilometer.

Lunch break under a tree, water and corned beef from a can.

On the horizon, in the shimmering heat, we see a local with a waving turban fly by on a China scooter. Whether you really need an expensive rally machine here? At least, if you want to have fun…

With increasing kilometers it becomes really tough, the concentration clearly decreases and we already long for asphalt again. And that after only two days. We are really impressed by the physical and mental high performance that a rally driver has to muster.

To wear us down even more, the last kilometers lead over a small mountain range consisting of unpleasantly rugged rock. We rumble and bump over the stones and have to acknowledge that more suspension travel and a proper chassis has an actual added value.

We like our coffee short and crisp – so do our tours. Therefore, the Sahara adventure is ticked off for the time being. Now the Atlas Mountains are on the list and finally Marrakesh as the final destination.

With the desert sand we also leave behind the fear of another flat tire and now confidently climb the Atlas. The asphalt road leads us in the foothills of the mountains through imposing gorges, of which we recognize one or the other corner from photos in travelogues. But this also means an increase in tourism. Quite a lot going on here: On almost every corner a hotel, restaurant, souvenir store and free wifi. Suddenly there are no-parking signs or you have to pay for free parking spaces.

Unimpressed by the tourist hustle and bustle, we spend the night in a small side gorge and are much more amazed at how quickly the country and its people can change.

So now we have made it from the desert to the Atlas Mountains. Here, our single cylinders noticeably lose power with increasing altitude. Approx. 10% per 1000 meters of altitude, which would still be 30% and a good 9HP with the XT. And what you lack in engine power on the ascent, you miss in braking power on the descent. Nevertheless, we struggle up to almost 3000 meters, admire the reddish barren rocky landscape and let the single cylinders sail back down into the valley.

Through wadis and past abundant plantations: Lettuce gardens, potato fields, apple trees and scraggy poplars can be found at sometimes over 2,500 meters. Without these green “highlights” the area would be really desolate. The mostly unvegetated shale continues the barren landscape of the desert and does not offer too much abundance to the eye. We remember our trip to the Alps quite differently…

But we always have the Alps on our doorstep, so we still want to soak up as much of this country as possible. And Morocco is also diverse. Just think how different the road surface can be: Yesterday still stuck in the mud in the desert, then rough gravel road, then a freshly tarred mountain pass and on the descent still as a crowning glory magnificent serpentines through rugged gorges. Maybe a bit like in the Alps after all…

But after a week of bivouacking in nature, it’s time to take care of clothes and riders. For the first time in Morocco we are now staying in a hotel.

Finally, our imaginary finish line awaits us in Marrakesh. There, in a certain sense, is the cradle of the XT, because this is where it saw the light of the PR world.

Once again we have to cross the Atlas Mountains and gather last impressions of the poor rural population. With every meter towards the city, we now come face to face with western wealth – a stark contrast. When people still live in mud huts in the mountains, they drive G-Class BRABUS on the city highway.

Finally arriving at our destination, we head for the local YAMAHA dealership in the confusing traffic. On this occasion we want to ask for a new clutch lever for the XT, which is broken somewhere in the desert. At said dealer, however, our 42-year-old XT is initially mistaken for a HONDA, which hurts a bit.

Too bad – neither is anyone here particularly impressed by our old iron, nor do they congratulate us on the adventure we have passed. Once again we hoped in vain to be greeted at our destination with waving flags, champagne and laurels.

And since there is consequently no victory celebration, we leave Marrakesh again in the early evening and head for the coast.

Via the monotonous and partly busy national road 7 we reach the sea late at night. In the dreary landscape between Marrakesh and Safi we just couldn’t find a good place to spend the night and now we can fall asleep with the sound of the Atlantic Ocean.

The climate has changed significantly with our trip to the sea. There is no longer any sign of the pleasant dry air of the last few days. Our sleeping bags and panniers are damp from the night, the morning air already unpleasantly muggy and warm.

Nevertheless, we can enjoy the breakfast coffee with sea view and bleating of a flock of sheep.

Our journey continues along the coast via Casablanca to Rabat. We also roam these places only by vehicle and experience what we perceive on our Motorcycles.

Faces and clothes may change, but the bustle of a big city market remains the same on every continent. For a German used to order, it can be really relaxing to be able to buy a handful of nuts at a market stall or a handbag virtually out of your saddle. Firmly defined pedestrian zones seem superfluous here.

Behind Rabat, we now turn back towards the interior of the country. With the way back firmly in sight, we now reel off kilometer after kilometer in the direction of the ferry. But the tough drives on country roads and highways make us realize that neither grandma nor granddaughter are designed for long-distance driving. The seat is plain, there’s no windshield, and high rev ranges are left to other engines for the single-cylinder – especially in the Moroccan late summer heat.

So now the last day in Morocco is dawning. During the night we were spared from the thunderstorm, but now we are driving towards the ferry port of Ceuta under a cloudy sky. The landscape is a bit hillier again, but otherwise unspectacular. The villages leave a rather poor impression – there is not much to see of tourism here.

With the last kilometers we now also have to draw a conclusion:

Grandmother and granddaughter made it through the desert to Marrakesh.

So can you win the Paris-Dakar Rally with the Superleggenda? No, unfortunately not. But passersby pause, marvel at the stylish vehicle, and it’s less humbling to be passed in the desert by a local wearing a turban and sandals on a Chinese scooter.

We didn’t really miss the potential of a high-horsepower competition rally machine on our trip. As the trip progresses, however, the Caballero wins the affection of the two drivers more and more. Only charm and character can not make up for the wrinkles and folds of the grandmother…

Besides the pure emotion factor, there are of course measurable differences:

The Superleggenda is very manageable despite 21″ front wheel and makes a good figure both on the road and off. The spring travel and response of the rear shock absorber could be better. In fast and stony passages, the chassis has to absorb many impacts and passes them on to the rider. The ground clearance is absolutely suitable for off-road use, and the brakes are sovereign.

The XT 500 surprises with playful handling thanks to its low center of gravity. Off-road, it exhibits controllable behavior that is more like a trials Motorcycle than a Crosser. The chassis even absorbs rough blows with ease. The low ground clearance and the outdated brakes make for trade-offs. 8.5l tank capacity is nerve-racking when traveling to remote regions and requires permanent calculation.

The Superleggenda can do many things better, but no longer has quite the strong character and impetuous nature of the XT. The Superleggenda is a modern Motorcycle that has not forgotten the roots and the core of motorcycling. Bravo!

Then there is the issue of performance and the “highway dilemma”:

The Superleggenda seems underpowered with 40hp in 2023. If you ride against the 27 hp of the XT500, you could almost speak of power reserves. The engines of the two Motorcycles are completely different: The XT has a carbureted single-cylinder of the most pristine kind, torquey between 2500-3500 rpm, unmotivated up to 5000 rpm and tough all the way to the redline at 6500 rpm.

The Superleggenda engine with electronic injection has a linear power delivery. At less than 3000 rpm, the engine hacks under load, then revs freely quite unspectacularly up to 7500 rpm, only to reach the rev limiter at just under 9000 rpm listlessly and with a loss of power.

On secondary roads and trips outside of Central Europe, this performance class is optimal. The driver has to set shift points conscientiously, use momentum and thus automatically becomes part of a fast-paced driving experience. On the highway, you feel stranded: 110km/h cruising speed on transit stages is possible. The vehicles were not built for this purpose and nothing more should be expected of them at this point. Even though with good will and aerodynamic posture, up to 150 km/h is quite possible.

So the Superleggenda takes the torch from the XT and carries it confidently. No other current Motorcycle combines character and simplicity to this degree. Whether it’s the XT, Superleggenda or another vehicle: getting back to the core of motorcycling, getting rid of unnecessary ballast, consciously doing without. This contributes to an uncomplicated ease in a complicated world. Driving off without connectivity, correct driving modes or airbag vest. Because comfort and safety are difficult to combine with adventure and courage.

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