It’s a question we’re often asked: Why did we opt to ride a couple of Honda 125cc motorcycles from the U.K. to Kazakhstan when there are many alternatives better suited for long distances and tough roads? Many larger, faster, and more comfortable adventure motorcycles were specifically designed for this kind of overland travel… so why the 125s?

• Weight Matters

There are numerous reasons to choose smaller motorbikes for overlanding. You could start with low weight; our machines had a curb weight of about 255 lb. with everything strapped on. Compared to an Africa Twin, which has a curb weight of approximately 500 lb., that’s more than a noticeable difference. They’re easy to manage on any terrain and don’t sink into mud and sand in the way that big adventure bikes can, and they’ll more easily bounce over rocks and boulders.

You may recall in the Long Way Round series when Claudio (the cameraman) switched to a two-stroke that easily rode the challenging dirt roads of Mongolia, while Ewan and Charley strained and struggled with their heavy BMWs. For us, lightweight means that when Kiley takes a tumble, she can easily lift her bike without Rory’s help.

Reaching the top of the Zekari Pass in Georgia, which tops out at more than 7,000 feet, made for fun off-road riding and wild views.

• The Speed Equation

Going faster isn’t necessarily better. Yes, there are times when we yearn to knock out 600 or more miles to get somewhere in a hurry. Because the 125s are slow we’re forced to avoid highways and take the more scenic rural routes, which generally provide more immersive experiences. If we had faster motorcycles, impatience would get the better of us and we’d fly past interesting sites, miss out on interactions with the people and their cultures, and off-the-beaten-track roads. Only recently we stumbled across an empty airplane hangar—previously a secret base of the former Yugoslav leader Josep Tito—as we rode on a dusty central Bosnian track.

Rory taking the less traveled route to reach a little-visited Armenian castle. The little bikes allow us to reach off-the-beaten-track locations.

• Low-Tech, Fewer Tools

Our 125s are simple and reliable but if they break, they’re incredibly easy to fix. There’s not much to them; no fancy electronics and the engines are basic. We’re able to readily find parts or, failing that, mechanics willing to improvise. And we’re usually back on the road within a day.

We’ve never had to wait in far-flung places for parts to be shipped; we don’t have to sweat about problems with Customs agents. This means that while we may slowly plod our way toward a destination, we sometimes overtake the speedier adventure bikers who’ve leapfrogged us but are down for repairs or other bigger vehicle delays. Sometimes the tortoise really is quicker than the hare.

Our Honda Ace CB 125 is dwarfed by a fully loaded Africa Twin in North Macedonia.

• Budget Minded

Beyond all that, 125s are cheap. No need for a second job or scrimping and saving for a year or more to buy these motorcycles. Our little Hondas cost less than an aftermarket skid plate on a Yamaha Tenere. This opens up adventure touring to anyone with a spare bit of spare cash and a longing to see the world. Also, because the bikes are cheap, the stakes are low when they’ve broken down or we have to ship them or they have to be abandoned for some reason. We’re not all that concerned about a mechanic or transporter damaging them, because there isn’t much to ruin!

• Prepping the Bikes

Our little motorbikes were built for city riding, so before taking them on a mammoth cross-continental journey they needed a few upgrades. Knowing we would spend a lot of time off the tarmac, we swapped the street rubber for all-terrain tires. We also refreshed the front suspension oil and jacked up the rear spring to better handle the shoddy roads of Central Asia.

Despite already being lightweight, we stripped them of unnecessary parts (the fairings? Gone!), and the heavy Honda-branded toolkit. We replaced the heavy wet batteries with lighter lithium units. We also use a lightweight and cost-effective navigation system: the Oxford CLIQR phone mount and an old iPhone full to the brim of offline Maps.me and Google Maps. The mounts also provide power for iPads and Kindles when we wild-camp, luxuries even when we are in the middle of nowhere.

• Why Bigger (Might) Be Better

There are some downsides. Small engines force riders to travel light. The gas tanks have limited capacity, so we’re on the constant lookout for petrol stations and sometimes need to strap on a jerrycan to reach a destination. The bikes are also quite small—with the seats just 2.5 feet off the ground. While that makes it easy to get on and off, the exhaust is low to the ground, which sometimes makes river crossings a riskier affair.

And while our slow pace means we need to stick to the smaller roads, sometimes highways are the only option. These stretches can be very uncomfortable as almost everyone else overtakes us at speed, and the wind pushes our bikes around.

• Where We’ve Gone

From West Africa, Europe, the Balkans, Turkey, and now the Caucasus, our little motorbikes have certainly been around. In West Africa in 2017, we found ourselves on muddy stretches of “road” for days at a time. While we had to scrape off thick mud from the mudguards in Liberia, we had no other issues on routes that even 4x4s couldn’t pass. Our motorbikes happily bumped over the rock-strewn plateaus of Guinea or chugged across Saharan sand in Mauritania. And the air-cooled engines never overheated, even when their owners did!

From West Africa, Europe, the Balkans, Turkey, and now the Caucasus, our little motorbikes have certainly been around.

Our 125s have plowed across the bigger roads of Western Europe, faced potholes in the Balkans, ridden the endlessly winding coastal roads in Turkey, and high-elevation and muddy mountain passes of Georgia. We’ve “raced” across France, Germany, and Austria as fast as the little bikes could take us to avoid rain, snow, and cold to get to the Balkans. We’ve ridden the curvaceous north-to-south D8 coastal road in Croatia. We’ve rambled along country roads barely on the map in Bosnia, with its random bunkers and beautiful mountains. And when Kiley’s bike limped into Sarajevo, we found a capable and friendly mechanic willing to hand-make a rear sprocket.

In Sarajevo, we found a capable and friendly mechanic willing to hand-make a rear sprocket.

In Montenegro, we sought out Kotor Serpentine, a portion of the P1 that links the towns of Kotor with Cetinje. While the most dramatic stretch of this road is a mere five miles, it packs in nearly 20 tight hairpin turns, offering dramatic views of the Bay of Kotor. Making our ride even better, we found ourselves in the middle of a classic car rally as Porsches and Jaguars passed us looking quizzically at our chosen modes of transport. From the Balkans, we crossed northern Greece in pursuit of riding in Turkey and the Caucasus. After spending a few days enjoying the frenetic pace of Istanbul, we road along Turkey’s Black Sea coastal road, the D010, which was less bike-friendly than anticipated but did offer one memorably rural Black Sea-hugging road from Amasra to Sinop. Steep climbs, sharp descents, and crazy turns made for a fun day of riding.

The roads in the country of Georgia provided the off-road riding we’d been craving. One mountain pass, which was only 60 miles from start to end, took close to six hours to cross as we navigated slick and muddy corners, cowboys on horseback leading a herd of cows that took up the entire narrow road, waterfalls splashing across the roadway, and rocks the size of our heads. Another day, while crossing Georgia on an “easy day,” one of our “shortcuts” ended up taking us on a dirt track for the better part of the day as we faced down thick mud, churned up by recent rain and local traffic, and roads covered by layers of boulders and rockfall so thick the road was no longer visible.

Admiring the ancient cave city of Vardzia in southern Georgia. Where will the bikes take us next?

As of this writing, we’re waiting in Baku, Azerbaijan, for the bikes to be shipped in from Georgia. The land border between the two countries is closed, so we had to find a transporter willing to ship them. While friends traversing the same route were quoted $1,250 to get their big adventure motorcycles, we paid just $175—our 125cc bikes have served us well again! We’re excited to get them back for the wilder roads in Central Asia where we’re confident they’ll once again stand up to the next series of tests.

Kiley Shields and Rory Gibson, an American and Brit, are currently riding two 125cc Honda Ace CBs (models produced in West Africa and purchased in Ghana in 2017) from the U.K. to Kazakhstan. They’re currently stuck in Azerbaijan waiting for a ferry across the Caspian Sea.