Can We Rally Race a Suzuki V-Strom 800DE?

Hugh Janus · June 15

We built a Suzuki V-Strom 800DE to take on the NORRA Mexican 1000 Rally. (Jeff Allen/)

“Everything that could have happened…did.” It’s a quote attributed to longtime Cycle World Editor-in-Chief Cook Neilson by our own boss Mark Hoyer. No matter how it goes verbatim, the sentiment perfectly sums up six days of rally racing on a 2023 Suzuki V-Strom 800DE in Baja, Mexico. There were unbelievable highs punched out by the lowest of the lows, which were then replaced by more shining moments. Rinse and repeat for 144 hours. Now, back home and still removing cactus barbs from my skin, the lows don’t seem that bad, the highs feel momentous, and I’m ready to do it all again. This is how I achieved a dream of rally racing and fell in love with a Suzuki V-Strom of all things.

This whole story starts in the ‘90s. See, I was a teenager who scooped up every bit of dirt bike media I could get my hands on. Motocross, off-road racing, flat track, hill climbs, you name it, I wanted to do it. Then one day I saw coverage of the Paris-Dakar on “MotoWorld”—the weekly TV show with Dave Despain. It was wild and so foreign: Huge twin-cylinder beasts ridden half a world away by riders with names I couldn’t pronounce. But the desert looked much like that of what I saw every day growing up in Nevada. The closest I ever got to Paris-Dakar was desert racing in the American Southwest. And I figured that’s how it would go for me.

DR Big Dreams

Suzuki’s 2023 V-Strom 800DE bears a striking resemblance to its DR Big rally racer from the late ‘80s and early ‘90s. The more I looked at the 800DE, the more I imagined it with Camel Racing Team graphics. I had also been aware of a rally race on my side of the world for a few years: the NORRA Mexican 1000 Rally. In January, I wondered if I could put the V-Strom and the Mexican Rally together and live out my DR Big dreams. Turns out this dream was bigger than just me and folks signed up to help one after another. Soon we had a yellow V-Strom 800DE in the CW shop.

Our V-Strom 800DE DR Big after racing the NORRA Mexican 1000 Rally. (Jeff Allen/)

A mad, two-month build ensued, which I chronicled here. While the V-Strom is a great do-it-all adventure bike, racing in Baja would require some special parts due to the speed that we would be traveling over what could be very rough terrain. We needed to be ready for anything, so we added more suspension travel, beefed up the wheels, cut weight, and threw on more protection. Then there was the specialized rally equipment along with changes to the ergonomics. In the end, this DR Big tribute is one of the most aggressive V-Stroms ever built.

How would our V-Strom 800DE fare against lighter dirt bikes? We’d soon find out. (Jeff Allen/)

While I had plans to finish the bike a week or so ahead of the race, it took nearly every available hour before the racing began to complete our DR Big V-Strom racer. That meant testing would have to wait until after tech inspection in Baja the day before the start of the rally. Not ideal, but as long as my ideas and plans for the V-Strom 800DE were on target, we’d have a bike that performed well. But there’s always the chance for errors when you strip a bike and then build it back up.

How To Rally: A Primer

NORRA’s Mexican 1000 Rally is a six-day race that requires the use of a paper roadbook, just like the Dakar Rally. Front and center, you have your mission command: a motorized roadbook holder, two rally computers (often just called a tripmeter), and a NORRA supplied Stella tracking unit. The Stella conveys all of the important rally info just like the trip computers, but is directly linked to the racing organization to keep track of your location and time while warning you of danger. Using these tools, you navigate the daily course from waypoint to waypoint using just mileage points, drawings of the terrain and roads, and special notes that signal speed zones, dangers, and important info. No GPS maps allowed, and you don’t get the roadbook until 20 minutes before the start each day.

This scroll of paper called a roadbook is the only information you have to find your way each day during the rally. (Jeff Allen/)

The rally consists of special stages and transfer stages. Special stages or just “specials” are the timed racing portion of the event. Time is kept for each of these on a paper timecard you carry as well as on a decal on your fender. Time penalties are assessed for missing waypoints (20 minutes), speeding (rated on a scale of the infraction), and outside assistance. There is also a maximum penalty if a major mechanical failure happens—but you can restart the next day.

Transfer stages are just what they say they are: a way to get from one special to the next; they do not count to your time—unless you arrive after the allotted time to cover said transfer. Then it’s a penalty.

Two tripmeter computers tell you the mileage (left) and compass heading and speed (right). With the info from the roadbook, you must find your way to the finish. (Jeff Allen/)

I’ve never raced a rally, and my schedule didn’t allow me to attend a rally school. So how was I going to learn the art of roadbook navigation in just two months without the ability to physically do it? First was the use of flashcards to learn the abbreviations used in the notes. Then Rebel X rally owner Manuel Lucchese told me to use the Dakar Desert Rally game in the pro mode. In this mode, you have to read the roadbook and navigate each stage—except the notes and turns come faster to shorten the playing time, only taking about 10 seconds for a kilometer. The fast and furious pace helped me learn the skills I needed quickly. But how would it translate to real life?

A short shakedown ride confirms that the choices we made on our DR Big racer are correct. (Jeff Allen/)

After we passed the technical inspections, I was able to finally ride the bike in the dirt, just 18 hours before the green flag dropped for the first time. To my relief, the bike handled great, the suspension needing just a few tweaks, and the engine was running strong. Suzuki, please take notes on what I built; an 800DE R model would be one hell of an adventure bike!

Day 1: Hard Lessons in Rally Racing

All that was left to do was race. Day 1 runs from the northwest port of Ensenada to San Felipe on the Sea of Cortez covering 360 kilometers (223 miles, rally racing is always done in kilometers) with two specials and three transfers. I can get assistance from the team only during the second and third transfer; the rest of the time I am on my own.

And we’re off and racing! The first order of business is to get out of Ensenada and into the desert. (Jeff Allen/)

At the start of the first special, I took off like a bolt and, thanks to my XBox training, finding the way was easier than I thought. I was catching the bikes that started in one-minute intervals ahead of me and I was feeling great. About 50 kilometers in, the Stella unit fell out of its mounting bracket multiple times. No problem, just a few minutes to fix it with a big zip-tie and I was back up and running.

As we moved into the mountains around Ojos Negros, the navigation got tricky, and soon I was lost—really lost. So much for XBox Rally University. Twenty to thirty minutes later I was back on track, but I was now way behind. I finished the first special stage in 23rd place—one hour down on the leader. Not the start I wanted, but the first stage was done and I only moderately blew it. But I don’t want to make a habit of it.

The V-Strom 800DE is faster than my ability to navigate on Day 1. (Jeff Allen/)

Special Stage 2 would go much better despite deep sand and a self-induced rear tire issue. The V-Strom was fast on the wide-open sand washes, and I let the DR Big eat. When I hit El Diablo dry lake bed I was feeling good and the V-Strom was running about 110 mph. Big mistake. We put Mousse Balls in the tires to ensure we didn’t get flats, but I was so blinded by making up time I forgot that speed makes heat, big power makes heat, and traction makes heat. And prolonged heat is the enemy of any tire mousse. I enjoyed blowing past the competition, but would pay for it at the end of the stage when the tire became unbalanced due to the damage I caused on the dry lake bed two hours earlier. Luckily the Mousse Balls held on valiantly until the finish line, but everything came apart on the 40-kilometer (25-mile) transfer section. The heat on the pavement was the final insult to the mousse, the tire came off the rim with 20 kilometers (12 miles) to go. After an hour of limping down the pavement into San Felipe, I vowed not to make that mistake again.

Speed kills—tires. (Jeff Allen/)

Despite making the huge mistake I was 4th fastest in Special 2, finishing 12th for the day. Day 1 was a crash course in rally racing, and I had some tough lessons. I’d be sure to remember my mistakes for the rest of the rally. We didn’t have any more tire or mousse failures for the rest of the rally, and I didn’t get big-time lost ever again.

Day 2: We Needed More Testing

Starting in San Felipe and racing to Guerrero Negro on the west coast of Baja, total race distance for Day 2 is 501 kilometers or 311 miles. There’s one long special bookended by two road transfer sections. As I’m racing in the Amatuer class, transporting the bike on some transfer stages is allowed. So we decided to take the start, move the bike into the van, and drive the bike to the special stage start. This would limit wear and tear.

On gas right out the gate on Day 2. (Jeff Allen/)

An hour later, I was off and racing through sandy, fast desert, alternating between sand washes, rocky dirt roads, and open sandy spaces. The riding quickly became more difficult than Day 1 and the navigation was tricky, but I made it to the gas stop in one piece and there’s only a half dozen riders ahead of me. It wasn’t easy, but it was going better.

In the fast sand wash sections the V-Strom 800DE is stable and easy to ride. (Jeff Allen/)

After a quick fill-up, there’s less sand as the course heads for the Pacific Ocean. A small riding error on a steep hill threw me off line and into a ravine, and the chain hit a boulder, knocking it off the rear sprocket. A repair on the hill took 15 minutes as a handful of bikes passed me.

Back up and running, the course becomes rougher with rocks and whoops. I was really beginning to enjoy this DR Big and its ability to run through hard-packed desert like a smaller, lighter dirt bike. I marveled at the vast beauty of Baja on the flatter, easier dirt roads. Long races might test your stamina, but they also give you time to experience the solitude of the desert.

Feeling the Baja flow and pushing the DR Big harder as the day wears on. (Jeff Allen/)

About 50 miles from the finish of the stage, our custom-built rally tower cracked. A design error led to a weak spot, and racing in Baja will find every weakness. I had QuikSteel, but disassembly of the front of the bike would take longer than the time I would lose if I limped into the finish. So that’s what I did. The going was slow, but again, I reached the finish line. This time I was 14th for the day and 11th overall.

The people of Baja love racing, and will help whenever and however they can. Within an hour of arriving in Guerrero Negro our new friend Jose was adding material and welding up our rally tower, stronger than it would ever need to be. We left Jose with a CW DR Big T-shirt, 20 USD, and a big handshake. The team had grown by one.

Jose even has the right color welding helmet. (Jeff Allen/)

Day 3: Tough but Fun

Would the 401-kilometer or 249-mile run from Guerrero Negro to San Ignacio be more difficulties or had the two previous two days shook out all of the mechanical mistakes I had made on this build? NORRA Motorcycle Race Director Jimmy Lewis promised a fun day, but Jimmy’s idea of fun usually involves pain, exhaustion, and more pain.

Finding the way through the soft sand dunes outside of Guerrero Negro proves to be difficult thanks to tricky navigation. (Jeff Allen/)

Immediately the course headed into the sand dunes just outside of town. The sand was soft and deep, and any small navigation error would lead to every form of Lewis’ fun. Here, camaraderie among racers was the norm, not the exception, as we helped one another get unstuck, upright each other’s bikes, and find the way through the dunes as a group. Each day we have found a new unique aspect of rally racing, but this one was one of my favorites. Turns out getting stuck in the sand dunes with competitors-turned-friends is fun.

Helping the competition is common in the Mexican 1000 Rally. And I am thankful to help and be helped. (Jeff Allen/)

Out of the dunes, survival turned back to competition and the DR Big and myself had much to prove. Navigation had become easier, and rougher the course, the better the V-Strom performed. A small issue with a stuck starter solenoid cost a handful of minutes, but overall the day was trouble-free. We reached San Ignacio in 5 hours, 29 minutes, and 15 seconds. That was good for an eighth-place finish for the stage and eighth overall for the rally.

I rolled into San Ignacio eighth for the day, moving me up to eighth place overall. (Jeff Allen/)

We had plenty of time for some good food, a much needed shower, and bike maintenance in the shade of our campground pit. Stories of the day were swapped and embellished as the sun went down. This evening I knew I was hooked on rally racing. As I drifted off to sleep I wondered if Dakar could be in the cards in 2026 for my 50th birthday.

Day 4: Fast and Happy

Day 4 of the Mexican 1000 Rally is the shortest of the rally. (Jeff Allen/)

Days 4 and 5 of the Mexican 1000 are marathon stages. That means the team cannot give any assistance until the second transfer stage on Day 5. If anything goes wrong, I have to fix it myself. The course for today is short—just 122 miles/196 kilometers—and it seemed like it was custom built for the DR Big. The terrain was fast and rough; the excellent suspension, strong Dubya wheels, and Mousse Balls allowed me to just hammer through the chunk and sandy whoops. Before I knew it, I was in the fishing village of San Juanico crossing the finish line. Today was the best stage so far with a fifth overall.

Day 4 felt like it finished before it even started. The course riding is fast and fun. (Jeff Allen/)

Nothing needed to be done to the V-Strom before checking it into the impound where I couldn’t touch the bike until the start of the next day. Great thing about racing an adventure bike is it’s made to cover long distances with long maintenance intervals. I was confident the bike was ready for a solid run to La Paz.

One of these things is not like the other… Bike tucked in for the night at impound. (Jeff Allen/)

Day 5: Heartbreak on the Beach

Day 5 was the second longest of the rally, but I was riding high from the day before and was ready to race the two special stages from San Juanico to Baja Sur’s capital city of La Paz. Right from the start the pace was fast as the course dropped us onto the first beach run of the race.

I am looking forward to getting on the beach and letting the V-Strom 800DE stretch its legs. (Jeff Allen/)

Blasting down a beach on a racebike is something I’ll never forget. It is rare to mix such beauty with racing, this is what Baja and rally racing is all about. The course turned away from the beach for a quick section through the dunes. Just before turning back onto the next beach section, I make the first mistake of several that would spell disaster.

A slight hesitation as I hit a sand bank turned into a very struck V-Strom. I struggled to get unstuck for what felt like forever, in reality it was maybe five minutes. But in those five minutes I abused the clutch hunting for traction and drive—mistake number two. Eventually, a fellow racer gave me a few big pushes and I was unstuck. And here is where I made my final mistake of the day—although I wouldn’t know it for about 20 kilometers.

Not much farther down the beach my race day is done. (Jeff Allen/)

After abusing the clutch, I didn’t check the lever freeplay. As I blasted down the beach for the next 20 kilometers, the clutch was slipping and burning. As I turned off the beach, the clutch gave up as multiple fiber plates shattered from the heat and strain. Just like that the race day was over. I was heartbroken; how could I have been so stupid?! Why did I abuse my new favorite bike like that? I let everyone involved down. I know better, and I didn’t pay attention. It might have been my hardest lesson of the rally.

I blow it, and with it any chance of a solid finish for the DR Big. (Jeff Allen/)

Now I just had to get to La Paz and fix the bike for the last day of racing. NORRA assessed the maximum time penalty for the day, and we got last place for the day. It dropped us to 16th place overall. After replacing the clutch plates, springs, and pressure plate, the DR Big was as good as new. The plan for the last day was to go all out—we had nothing to lose now.

Replacement of clutch plates, springs, and pressure plate is all that is needed to get the DR Big up and running again. (Jeff Allen/)

Day 6: Redemption and Jubilation

The last day of racing ran from La Paz to the southern tip of Baja: San José del Cabo. There was only 248 kilometers/154 miles to go with two special stages that started with a 60-kilometer/37-mile transfer ride. The weather was surprisingly cold for May as I reached the start of the first special stage shivering. That passed quickly when I set off with the 15 riders ahead of me. I attacked with everything I had, and everything the V-Strom had. I rode harder than I ever had on the DR Big, and it just smashed through every bump, rock, and jump. Riders ahead were dispatched quickly with a beep of the horn and a thumbs-up as I backed off the throttle just for a few seconds so I didn’t injure anyone with the spray of boulders coming off the Dunlop knobby.

Day 6 is my last chance to show just how good this V-Strom 800DE is. (Jeff Allen/)

Just before the stage end I jumped into a whoop section and somehow kicked the shock reservoir hose with my heel, knocking off the retaining clip. Two whoops later, all of the fluid had been expressed from the shock, and I had no rear damping. Still, I pressed on and reached the stage finish with a third fastest overall time, just minutes back from the race leaders.

Despite losing damping in the rear shock, the V-Strom is still fast thanks to its stability at speed. (Jeff Allen/)

Encouraged, but cautious, I pushed as hard as the rear suspension allowed in the last special stage of the race. The mountain path dropping down into San José del Cabo was twisting, rocky, and fast. As the finish drew closer the number of race fans on the side of course increased, their cheers spurring me on to wheelie and wave. Of course I obliged.

What an experience! Making it to the finish line, even after the days of failure before, has me hooked on rally racing and the DR Big. (Jeff Allen/)

The last few miles were emotional. I never thought I’d get to race a rally and now I was nearing the finish with some of the greatest riding experiences of my life behind me. And now I’m deeply attached to this DR Big tribute. In a career of riding a huge number of very special motorcycles, I also didn’t quite expect the V-Strom to become so special to me. I love it. Its capability is far beyond what I thought would be possible. As I crossed the line in eighth place on the last special for a 15th-overall finish, the high fives and hugs and congratulations were constant and numerous. But all I could think about was how damn good this DR Big is and when I could race it again. Every day since, I have the same thoughts. So what’s next for DR Big?