Love ’em or hate ’em, Chinese bikes are here to stay. As the economic giant flexes its muscles, the seismic ripples are felt globally. But is the end result an Emperor’s delight or just fool’s gold?
I recently read a little tidbit about the 2024 Paris Motor Show. Putting aside the fact that it’s all about cars and – cop this – you’re reading a bike mag, the gist of the article was pretty jaw dropping. All the “classic” European and Japanese manufacturers were either MIA or playing it super low key. But what was there with bells on was an army of Chinese brands. And no, the fact that you’ve probably never heard of them means nothing. You’d probably never heard of “Honda Giken Kōgyō Kabushiki-gaisha” until they went and flipped the motorcycle world on its greasy, windburnt head in the 1960s.
Yes, it’s easy to laugh at burning Chinese EVs and take empty comfort in cliches about horrible quality and copycat designs. But those with the brains and insight into the industry know better. As much as I loathe the guy for all his rampant ego and trash-talking politics, Elon Musk has made his thoughts on the subject clearer than one of Trump’s fake tans. “Chinese automakers will demolish global rivals without trade barriers,” he said, ominously. And while electric cars are at the spearhead of this demolition, you can bet your bottom Australian peso that motorcycles will quickly follow.
I’ve ridden some real Chinese stinkers in the past, but with 20/20 hindsight these were clearly just the thin edge of a very big, very game-changing wedge. And exhibit A in my argument claiming that it won’t be long until we’re all taking Chinese motorcycles seriously is this, the Paso Motors XF 300.
HITTING THE ROAD
But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. “Who the hell is Paso Motors?” I hear the cheap seats holler. Started by British ex-pat Henry Wiltshire, his is the most recent in a long line of small brands that use Chinese moto factories to supply budget-yet-bespoke rides to the West. Other brands that are (or were) in the same game include Braaap, Sol Invictus and Fonz Moto.
In this particular instance, we have a new 300cc single in a scrambler-style. It’s seemingly become the style of bike all the cool kids like since cafe racers wore out their welcome a few years ago. The 30-odd horses and 25Nm of twists won’t see you shredding any rear rubber, but the bike’s featherweight 138kg means it doesn’t exactly hang around, either.
And with those figures living pretty high up in the rev range on a small single, the power delivery has a charming ability to make you think it’s trying its little heart out. This stands in stark contrast to modern, big-capacity bikes, whose power and abilities often leave you feeling as if you are the weakest link in the chain. The donk also has a buzzy, Mazda rotary-esque thing it does where the revs just keep on climbing long after you think it’s about to run out of breath. The upshot is a powerplant that has you cheering it on rather than cursing it for empty promises.
It took me all of the 50m between Sydney’s Zen Motorcycles – aka, the local dealership stocking the bikes – and the entrance to the M8 tunnel to figure out the XF300’s raison d’etre. It’s light, pleasantly loud and extremely chuckable. Despite Henry’s caution about the knobbies and not getting too jiggy with it, the light goes green and I’m elbow down, fanging it around the corner and up the hill to the Princes Highway. You silly, silly little man!
Fact one: the suspension is no namby-pamby cushion. Quite the opposite. It is unexpectedly firm and does a decent job of telegraphing the road right up into your palms. As such, the bike seems to corner better than expected, but there’s no denying of physics here. Do something silly while the bike is leant over and the XF will let you know, but not in an edgy way. So it’s rider beware.
Fact two: soon, I’m careening directly over roundabouts and buzz-bombing my local shopping high street in a rather charming, 300 cubic centimetre way. Weaving and hooning? Guilty as charged. Whatever evil intention your right wrist might possess, the end result is always fun and funny. Like an angry Chihuahua, you know it’s upset but you’re never anything but amused. The sideways wiggle while cornering that’s par for the course with offroad tyres was there, but thanks to the dual-purpose design of the Yuan Xing black hoops it’s all very manageable.
Fact three: with an engine this petite, you’d have to be trying pretty bloody hard to get the throttle feel wrong – and there’s little doubt that it’s going to treat you well enough in most situations and applications. And while I could point out that the end can is a shameless rip on the classic Supertrapp design, all is forgiven once you realise the throttle makes it pop and fart at will. The switchgear is nothing to write home about, but it does seem to meet minimum standards and if I had to stake a claim, I’d say that it should be fine well beyond the bike’s two-year warranty.
With my critical eyes on, I noted from the get-go that the stand was too long by a good 20-30mm; not a big issue for city riding and (I guess) it’s also beginner friendly, but getting off the XF on a coastal road when the wind was whipping in off the spring Pacific Ocean saw me standing like a dork on the high side of the bike praying that a particularly blustery gust didn’t knock it flat onto the bitumen.
And the front brake can too easily be overwhelmed to the point where I very much wanted more stopping power than it seemed capable of delivering. Yes, I was riding like a dickhead at the time, but newer riders may wander into similar braking territory unwittingly and reach the same conclusion just before they ride up the rear end of a yoga-loving soccer mum in a quick-braking SUV.
Then there was the speedo. Easily my least favourite part of the bike, it was slow to show the correct speed when accelerating, to the point where I was doing double-takes to make sure I wasn’t actually tearing through a school zone at 20 over. I thought it was maybe a cheap GPS-sensing item. It was not.
And forget about the warning lights; they are much too small and much too dim to be useful in any situation bar at night while standing still.
But a scrambler in the city is like a duck in a bowl of custard, so off I went looking for grass. Sadly, my dealer didn’t have any, so I had to settle for the more legal thrills of running the XF down through the Royal National Park. My initial happiness with the bike’s cornering wasn’t wrong, but (as you’d completely expect on a bike at this price point) the rear shocks will get flummoxed if the cornering speeds are high enough and the cojones are big enough. But, as in the city, it’s all very polite and manageable.
HITTING THE DIRT?
With a sneaky straight now underneath us and a quick glance for any stray Donut Patrollers, I pinned the throttle to see what happens. Above 80km/h things get quite exciting, both for the rider and the bike. The engine’s diminutive size and the number of cogs you have to swap during city rides told me that top speed wasn’t going to break any records, and of course it didn’t. Paso Henry told me that he knows of customers who have ridden their bikes interstate, but believe you me, it’d be bloody hard work and I’m not sure the engine would be happy spending so long so high up in its rev range. But should you summon the intestinal fortitude and – like some intrepid 19th Century explorer – attempt this insanity, you need to know that overtakes at speed on the XF require so much pre-planning, you’ll need a spreadsheet or a bottle of nitrous to accomplish them without crapping your dacks.
It’s tempting here to launch into a soliloquy about how the bike’s not a real scrambler if it can’t manage an epic journey to the back of beyond and climb up the side of a mountain, but as anybody who’s seen the new Land Rover Defender or a Triumph Scrambler 1200 will tell you, off-road vehicles rarely get their tyres dirty these days. To dismiss the XF on this basis would be unfair. Hell, I’d rather take this bike offroad than a $40k BMW GS, that’s for sure.
And as tempting as it is to take the XF off the bitumen and into the mud and slush in the deepest, darkest parts of the Nasho, I resisted. Firstly, because I’d most likely be arrested and/or attacked by hiking hippies, but mostly because I’ve had to return trashed-and-or-smashed media bikes before and you’ll just have to take my word for it that it’s no fun. At all. Henry told me that the bikes have been ridden off-road and that they are in fact pretty decent. I’m definitely no dirt demon, so I’m not sure my word counts for much here. I’d also posit that exactly none of the bike’s target audience will be using it in this fashion.
The bike’s stock rubber (on this particular one, at least) was a generic Chinese brand that seems to be a dual-sport design; they could be the best – or worst – dirt tyres in the world for all I know. But riding on them around the city was pleasant enough and they seemed to have more than a reasonable amount of lateral firmness to prevent that “skittish” feeling you get when the knobbies flex sideways during cornering. I have very little doubt that a proper road tyre would improve things considerably, but the looks of the bike would also become a whole lot more supermoto than owners may want. A decent compromise here may indeed be another dual sport tyre, but with more of an on-road bias.
I seriously doubt the XF is the kind of bike you’d ride all day, but I got as close as I dared to that task and my hands and feet were a bit tingly afterwards. Far from this being a slight at the XF, it’s what you’d reasonably expect from a small-capacity single that isn’t shy of high revs. You’d also expect great fuel economy, which the bike delivers in spades. If frugality at the bowser is something that resonates with you, then a small single like this is sure to impress. It did for me, and I was hammering the throttle like a loon.
Shorter riders may find the bike in the configuration I received it in a little too tall. Beginners especially. The two strangers who had a sit on the bike at the Sydney store before I rode off on it would likely agree. But fear not, tippy-toed peeps, because the rear shock can be swapped out for a shorter item that drops the bike’s booty by a substantial 10cm if required. Just note that this will also make the bike feel more cramped – and legs more achy – on longer rides.
NEED-O MORE SPEEDO
Of course, there’s no magic defying of logic or manufacturing here. Just like all bikes at or around this price point, you are definitely on the cheap and cheerful end of the spectrum. But to counter this, your first bike (assuming that is indeed why you’re considering the XF in the first place) really can’t be that 1200cc Triumph Scrambler or BMW GS you’ve always wanted. There’s a reason why you have to start small and build your way up, and it involves a wheelchair, smash repairs and a big old hospital bill.
Other smaller, more fussy points from my notes include some average-looking wiring, a seat that appeared to be rubbing the paint off the tank and a distinct lack of real colour choices. On the plus side, the bike has Bosch electrics, a gearbox that was better than I was expecting and a petrol tank that looks a lot like a custom jobbie that’s been taken from a classic Norton or BMW.
To wrap things up, I’m happy to put my hand on my heart and say that the Paso XF300 is a decent bike that should really be on your list if the look and the price are in your own particular ballpark. It’s fun, looks great and has just the right amount of rebellion for new riders. Just make sure you ask Henry to update that speedo to something a little more useable and a little less, erm, Temu.
RIDER PROFILE
Name Andrew Jones
Height 180cm
Weight 78kg
Fact Controversially, Andrew makes sure he scrapes the pegs of all his media bikes to let the manufacturer know that he’s ridden the bejesus out of them.
