t’s a curious thing about adventure riding that it doesn’t need any real risk for the rider to be participating at the very highest levels of the sport.
IIn any kind of racing the need to ride fast means big risk, no matter how good the rider is. Road racers are at the sharp end as far as out-and-out speed goes, and anyone who’s raced at club level – where tracks seldom have the runoffs, air fences and other safety gear that feature in world championship rounds on TV – will know a rider doesn’t have to be able to manage stellar speeds to face real injury and bike destruction. The motocross guys have the track itself as a serious obstacle in addition to their speed, and the supercross competitors have the riskiest combination of all. They need to be riding as fast as they humanly can on tracks made to be dangerous. Even the trials guys will need to take risks if they want to perform well in their sport.
But for adventure riders, just being out
there and doing it is all there is.
Riding across the Northern Territory can be an act of serious self-endangerment, but it can also be the holiday of a lifetime. If the rider kits himself up with good equipment, especially communications gear, and takes his time, that trip can be as scenic and amazing as any adventure ride anywhere in the world. And if he takes six weeks to make
“Big bike, little bike, short distance, long distance, solo, in a group, for a day or week or a month…none of those things matter a damn.”
the distance and arrives home looking as fresh as a daisy, no-one’s going to say, “You rode the length of The Territory? Is that all?” No. The ride is an adventure, no matter how much you soften the blow. Even Ewan McGregor and Charley Boorman found challenges and adventure on their
groundbreaking Long Way Round ride, and the level of support and comfort those guys had was difficult for most of us to comprehend. I think it’s impossible for most of us to comprehend.
Still, even with four-wheel drives crammed with people and gear, a doctor on call, full-time admin workers a sat-phone call away and seemingly endless amounts of time, watch that ride and try and convince yourself those guys weren’t on a major world-class adventure ride.
Of course they were.
And on a two-hour lap on a Saturday morning we can be adventure riding too, every bit as adventurous as a survey ride in a new country or a blast up the Gibb River Road in the Kimberley.
How awesome is that!
No need for flag marshals, a governing body or any measure of time, speed or distance. Big bike, little bike, short distance, long distance, solo, in a group, for a day or week or a month…none of those things matter a damn.
If your heart beats faster and you’re living minute-by-minute, and you’re part of a world not many get to see, you’re adventure riding.
That’s all there is to it.
And with the right mental attitude, that can be part of any ride.
Adventure Rider Magazine is published bi-monthly by Mayne Publications Pty Ltd
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the cover: The first national Triumph RAT adventure ride covered some incredible terrain from Broken Hill through to Arkaroola and back again. Triumph Australia Dealer Manager Brendon Roberts enjoyed the
Bolivia: high-altitude adventure riding. Page 22
Contributors
ColIn Bayman
Col’s ‘just your average rider’. He’s had plenty of trail bikes and did road riding and Enduro events, then decided adventure-bike riding could be the future as an older, fatter rider. His bucket list continues to grow but so far he’s tackled Finke in 2007 as well as the Holland Track and Gibb River Road.
Ian Bowden
Ian’s odometer has just passed 60 and he’s been a keen rider for the past 40 years. Ian’s been on adventure tours to Mongolia, Bolivia, Peru, Australia and Vietnam, and has a three-country tour planned for Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia.
KellI ChurCh
Kelli lives on the Northern Beaches of Sydney and regularly rides a Honda CRF150 and a Ducati Monster 900. She’s recently discovered a love for adventure riding with a brand-spanker KLR650.
Karen ramsay
Karen’s in that growing group of females either returning to riding or taking it up. She’s worked in the Northern Territory as a governess/jillaroo, supervising kids and mustering on ’bikes, and bought her first bike from an undertaker.
roBIn Box
A lifelong rider, Robin now rides, “whenever there’s a chance” on any bike available, on- or off-road. Between churning out Safari Tanks and importing high-quality Touratech gear, there’s not as much riding going on for this Victorian-based bloke as he’d like.
lou leeuwrIK
Lou’s now retired after 30 years as a Telecom technician and is in his 40th year in the Army Reserve. In the 1970s he rode scrambles, but his adventure riding started in 2004 on a trip with Ferris Wheels.
Graham CollIns
Graham traded his MV Agusta F4 in on his first GS. Now he’s on his second GS and the 32-year-old hasn’t looked back. When he’s not on a bike Graham builds structures with big cranes for the mining industry.
John hudson
John thought adventure riders would love an event offering some of the thrill and challenge of The Dakar at a miniscule price, so in 2010 the real estate manager kicked off the APC Rally, and now ADVX.
Ken darK
Ken’s children and grandchildren keep trying to tell him he’s old and should slow down. There’s never been a time where there wasn’t a bike in the shed and he now uses the riding as a motivator to simply keep fit.
mIles davIs
Miles has been National Motorrad Marketing Manager for BMW Motorrad since 2006. He’s a highly qualified motorcycling coach and an ex-professional mountain-bike racer. Still on a bike every chance he gets, Miles has built an enviable reputation as both a world-class rider and a great riding companion.
Dirty
RATs
Triumph Australia’s first national owners group adventure ride hit the Flinders Ranges in South Australia. And hoo-aah! It hit ’em hard.
The Honour roll: Jan Stockley, Tony Blake, Eddie Preston, Andy Cowan, Paul Janssen, John Smithson, Kemsley Cope, Steve Marsh, Iain Murray, Stewart Tyers, Shane Carter, Wayne Ralph, Mark Fletcher, Jeff Innes, Bradley Nuttall, Gazza Lawrence, Gary Ingleton, Harry Timtschenko, Jerry Cook, Brendon Roberts and Mark Berger. Wilko was running around with his camera.
RAT, when it comes to Triumph motorcycles, stands for Riders Association of Triumph. In August this year the Triumph Australia folks hosted their first national RAT ride aimed specifically at owners of the Excellent Tiger 800 XC and Explorer 1200 adventure bikes. Just over 20 riders fronted a frosty morning in Broken Hill, and with temperatures not far above zero degrees – and sometimes a little below that – a happy, friendly crew of very enthusiastic blokes set off for the Flinders Ranges in South Australia, ready for what everyone hoped would be a ton o’ fun.
It was, too. In the best possible way. u
All welcome
There’s a definite ‘feel’ to a Triumph ride, and it’s all about a love of motorcycles.
Obviously the emotional attachment to the brand is strong, but believe it or not, it’s probably not the defining emotion of a Triumph group. It’s a love of motorcycles of all kinds and an easy acceptance of anyone else who loves bikes. That euphoria in sharing the passion even extends to other brands being welcome at a RAT ride, so in this case a couple of BMWs and a Yamaha joined the crew, and although the majority of the field was on Tiger XCs, there were a few 1200 Exlporers, a couple of mag-wheel models and even Ed Preston’s 955.
If you ride, and you love it, you’re welcome with the Triumph boys.
To be sure the organisers insist you at least ‘have a friend’ who rides a Triumph, but five minutes after they met at the Palace Hotel in Broken Hill these blokes were all friends, all busting to talk about their bikes and all ready to have a great time. That was plain to see.
Cold comfort
Hauling away from the colourful Palace Hotel with its ‘interesting’ murals, the sun shone, the sky was absolutely cloudless and the temperature crackled around zero degrees somewhere. By the time the first riders arrived in Yunta 200km later there were reports of minus four degrees, but that may have just been cheerful optimism. It seemed much colder.
Large quantities of hot drinks and hot food were consumed before the Trumpees hit the dirt at last and cut loose, revelling in
the crystal-clear air and horizons as wide and welcoming as any in the world. ’Roos and emus where everywhere and occasionally a wedge-tailed eagle swooped down to gift a rider with one of the greatest sights nature has to offer.
Of course, to balance that, every now and then the dopey frigging emus would dart out in front of a bike or zig-zag along with a rider, frightening several kilos of digested lamb from his rapidly oscillating sphincter.
After a trouble-free 400km or so for the day – except for two punctures for Wayne Ralph – everyone shivered their way into the incredibly spectacular Rawnsley Park
Left: The logistics of the five-day ride were handled by Compass Expeditions. Good work by Jerry Cook (left) and Shaun O’Boyle.
Below: Eddie Preston rocked on his 955. He was the odd one out among the Tigers and Explorers, but sure had style.
Station. The brave and hearty ones tried to hammer tent pegs into the permafrost and the toffee-noses cranked the room heaters and electric blankets up to full noise before heading down to the Woolshed Restaurant for dinner.
The slow-combustion fire in the Woolshed raged and lamb pies and chocolate brownies flowed like wine – so did the wine, actually – while Gazza Lawrence entertained everyone with his numerous selfies. It seems he only takes the selfies while he’s relieving himself, but everyone was keen to support everyone else, so encouragement was offered without looking too closely.
It was a warm and enthusiastic bunch of riders that fell into their various beds that night.
“It’s all about me now”
Two nights at Rawnsley Park Station meant everyone could leave their luggage behind and enjoy a day of unfettered Triumph roosting and rorting, made even more enjoyable by the terrain and scenery in the Flinders Ranges National Park. The temperature was still a little low, but
Top: Accom and catering packages were available at different price points. The welcome dinner was included in the entry and the food and lodgings were pretty damn good.
the dirt roads swooped and dived through gorges and riverbeds, and the towering red rocks of the rugged mountains lined the route making it an unforgettable ride.
It was only a 250km-day, so there was plenty of time to stop and have a look at things.
The Brachina and Bunyeroo gorges were breathtaking, especially for Tony Blake. He found a little slimy patch of wet clay and decked his Tiger hard enough that he had his breath well and truly taken away. For safety’s sake he was bundled into the Triumph Australia Colorado and swept off to nearby Hawker for a medical assessment. The folks at Hawker took a look and thought, “Gosh,” and quickly airlifted Tony to Adelaide, where professional medical assessment showed no serious damage.
sunny beer garden of the Blinman pub, or the bakery for those who craved a quandong pie and a look at some local curios.
Back at Rawnsley the campers fought over Tony’s vacant room in a not-toosavage kind of way and the Woolshed dished up a shoulder of lamb and a pear tart with honey ice cream.
Oh yes. As adventures go, this was a tough one.
“He said eight!”
Above: Brendon Roberts, Triumph Dealer Manager, can deal with just about anything, even splicing a split radiator hose with a cut-up throttle tube. Main: Arkaroola should be on everyone’s wish list. u
Lunch was a leisurely affair in the
As the sun rose majestically over Station
Hill Lookout announcing another new day the Triumph boys woofed down a humungous breakfast and hit the trail early. Guide Jerry had warned that this, the third day of the Dirty Rats ride, was a whopper –580km. Not only was it long, there was one stretch that had “a few dunes. Maybe eight.”
Naturally everyone was busting to have a crack at the challenge, so the first 200km or so through Mooralana and up to the historic Farina Homestead was dealt with summarily. Of course everyone enjoyed the scenery and the various ruins, but the steely-eyed gazes of the
Thanks, Triumph!
Triumph riders were unwavering as they searched the rolling horizons for any trace of sandy elevation that might threaten their progress.
In fact, Farina had dead flat, fast-flowing dirt roads. No problem at all.
Farina, however, led to Mulgaria Station, and as soon as the group swept purposefully through the gate the long sand wallows took their toll and riders went down like a Labor prime minister. The lucky ones carved lazy circles as they tried to ride in a straight line and the unlucky ones
Not only did Mark and Brendon from Triumph Australia give AdvRider Magazine the royal treatment on this ride, they also made sure we had the same sensational Tiger 800 XC we fell in love with at the Touratech ride in issue #05. Along with Wilko – ace lensman and almost a Triumph love-child – AdvRider Magazine spent the week being treated like VIPs and with a grin a mile wide. A huge thanks to Triumph…again!
faceplanted and came up chewing. They’d put the ‘sand’ in ‘sandwich’.
That was all taken in good humour, though. The sand made for a soft landing, there was no bike damage and no-one was hurt, so it was all a bit of a laugh. And it could hardly be an adventure ride without a bit of a challenge, could it?
So on the guys plodded, legs extended like outriggers, dealing with the ‘dunes’.
And anyway, Jerry said there were only eight of them.
“Like a Safari Special”
So when the first genuine dune appeared, some of the smiles became a little fixed.
It was one of those big, red sandy buggers with the consistency of talcum powder. Any bike stationary on any part of it immediately sank straight up to the sump and refused to go backwards or forwards. Any attempt to move the bike only made it dig in deeper.
This is where things became interesting, because it could’ve been the death of this ride. But with this group, it meant a chance for everyone to club in and help everyone else. And they did.
Just as well, too, because the first dune wasn’t the biggest or the
toughest, and the first eight were only an introduction to the 20 or more that came after it. Riders heaved, dragged, swore and in some cases even rode a little until every single bike and rider was finally standing, some 40km later, on the rocky threshold of what turned out to be a string of punctures that lasted all the way into Andamooka, well after dark.
It was rough going, but all the bikes and riders made it through. Paul Janssen’s Tiger had some clutch trouble that Brendon Roberts was able to adjust out, and John Smithson found it heavy going. But working together, it was done.
And that, readers, was serious adventure by anyone’s standards. It was a huge credit to everyone who went through there that they looked after each other and made it work.
Of course, once in Andamooka it was still 200km to the overnight accom at Marree. But if you’ve ridden Mulgaria Station, a late-night run down the Oodnadatta Track is nothing.
“It’ll be fun”
As the tired – totally rooted – crew plodded into Marree at 1:15am, the staff at the Marree Hotel went into overdrive. Before anyone could bellow, “Dear God! Please help me!” there were meals being shot from the kitchen, drinks shared around and everyone’s every need being catered too – except for Stewie Tyers. Stewie was a very popular bloke on the tour, but he lost his sidestand spring. Although Brendon had a look at it, there didn’t seem to be much that could be done. The stand was cable-tied in place and he soldiered on regardless.
The hospitality at Marree was beyond belief. Not only did the kitchen stay open and the publican sit with the group and share a few yarns, he shouted a few rounds and supplied toasties in the very early hours.
What a dead-set champion. He was everyone’s hero.
u
Insert: Tony Blake found the only patch of wet ground in the whole Flinders Ranges and went down hard. The injuries turned out to be minor, but it was decided to send him off for a doctor to have a look.
Main: Farina Station allowed the bikes to cut loose a little. There weren’t a heap of corners to slow anyone down.
dIrTy raTs
Shanks for the memories
After the rigours of the previous day the riders were allowed a sleep-in and some maintenance time before heading out for the second-last day, scheduled to run around 360km to Arkaroola. There was also a bitumen route for those who felt they hadn’t fully recovered.
In some ways it was a shame the day before had been a tough one, because the off-road route to Arkaroola was absolutely sensational. Not just the views, but the terrain itself, varying from the smooth, high-speed Strzelecki Track through rocky
and dusty Moolawatana and then on to what surely must be one of the world’s great dualsport destinations, Arkaroola.
The rock wallabies and kangaroos lined the road in huge numbers, the stony monoliths towered over the darkening road and the resort offered a dinner of lamb shanks and ice cream sundae.
It was about as good as a day’s adventure riding can be.
All over
The final day of the Dirty Rats ride kicked off with a short blast through the surrounds of Arkaroola, then a very easy 250km run
back through Blinman and on to Rawnsley for a farewell dinner and some long and wandering speeches. Aside from Brendon losing his sidestand spring – the same as Stewie had done a couple of days before – it was incident free and a superb finish to a superb event.
Looking back on the ride there were a couple of standout features. Undoubtedly the day through the dunes was harsh. It would’ve been tough going for any kind of bike, but asking bikes like the Explorer and Tiger to go through there seems almost foolhardy. Yet they did it, and that’s as big a tribute to the build of the bikes as it is to the hearts of the riders. It was a glorious victory over a huge challenge shared by everyone.
The other standout features include the end-of-the-world scenery of the Flinders Ranges, the amount of lamb that can be consumed in a week, and, most of all, just how great an adventure ride can be when you’re with a great group of people.
There’s a bit of talk about possible destinations for future Dirty Rat rides. Keep an eye on www.triumphmotorcycles.com.au. Sign up if you can.
We’ll see you there.
Left: Mulgaria Station had a few dunes. “Eight” said guide, Jerry. He must’ve meant eight to get to the start of the tough ones. The riders clubbed together and helped each other through.
Main: There sure are a lot of ruins in the Flinders. They make for an interesting contrast to the arid, flat and sometimes blisteringly cold desert. Waikaringa has a landmark set.
SOME OF THE BEST ROADS AREN’T ROADS AT ALL
We built the Tiger 800XC to be just like the Tiger 800, but with a little bit more.
Using the rugged Tiger 800 as a starting point, we added a pack of special o -road equipment so you can keep on going when you run out of tarmac.
Industry players Nick Dole
When the guys at Yamaha Motor Australia are looking to get the best from the suspension of their adventure bikes, Teknik Motorsport is where they go. And when they go to Teknik Motorsport, it’s owner Nick Dole they want to talk to. It seems half the motorcyclists in Australia, on and off-road, are clamouring for Nick’s attention these days. At 43 Nick, of Penrith NSW, is an interesting bloke.
AdvR: You’re not only an in-demand technician and tuner, you manufacture a lot of your own components. How did all this get started?
ND: I started doing a light-vehicle apprenticeship in mid-1990. That was four years at TAFE working on cars, and in the third year I started an auto electrician’s trade course at night. I finished both in 1994. AdvR: So you’re a qualified mechanic and a qualified auto electrician?
ND: Yep.
AdvR: What brought about the move from cars to bikes?
ND: I always rode bikes.
I got my first bike when I was a kid, an RM125T in ’83 or maybe ’84. It was my cousin’s bike and it’d been under his house for a while and wouldn’t go. They couldn’t work out what was wrong with it, and I think I bought it off them for $150. I worked out one of the wires to the stator had been cut. I reconnected the wiring, the spark came back, and it miraculously ran. I was 13 at the time.
When I started my apprenticeship, my boss always rode and there were always bikes in the workshop. It was always dirt bikes.
AdvR: Were you a motocrosser?
ND: It was mainly enduro.
I did a lot of minikhana at the Ku-ring-gai Miniwheels Training Club on a borrowed KX80, and that was a good grounding. I didn’t ride a lot because I couldn’t afford it, but when I was 16 I did a school on the YZ125K I had at the time and blew it to pieces. I rebuilt the top-end and bottom-end myself…I guess that should’ve been a hint as to what I wanted to do.
My parents didn’t want me to be a mechanic and tried to encourage me to do anything else, so after I finished year 12 I ended up working in a pathology lab for one of my father’s friends. Then I got into a biomedical science degree at UTS in ’89. I did that for 18 months, working in the lab full time and doing a science degree part time, but I was just working on bikes and cars constantly.
I looked at everyone else in the class and they all had really nice clean hands. My hands were all oily and greasy. I’d look at all those clean hands, and then at my hands, and I’d think, “I don’t know if I really fit in here.” I dropped out of Uni, got sacked from the lab job, and moved
out of home, all at about the same time.
AdvR: That must’ve been a bit of an upheaval.
ND: I spent six months on the dole sitting on my bum, scratching my head and thinking, “What am I going to do?”
Then Bob Lennahan at Mini Spares at Thornleigh asked me what I was doing. I’d been buying parts off Bob for years, and I told him I was really struggling to get a job. He asked if I’d like to be a mechanic. I did a couple of days’ trial at Bob’s friend’s workshop and that started it. I had an apprenticeship as a mechanic working on cars.
AdvR: You’ve owned a lot of bikes and did a lot of riding with the Hawkesbury club, but how did the change from working on cars to working on bikes come about?
ND: I went through a few jobs. I was always on Sydney’s north shore, and by the time
“You have to look at it from my point of view. I just love machines.”
I got enough money together to buy my own flat in Hornsby in 1998, I felt a bit more comfortable. I felt I could leave the work I was doing on the north shore.
Because I’d been working on British cars, I gained a really good understanding of how to fix things that don’t work. The typical Pommy car might be new, but there’s lots of things on it that the builder just shouldn’t have done. Even though working on old British cars was painful, I look back on it and I learned a lot of welding, machining, fabrication, engine tuning…we ported our own heads and made inlet and exhaust manifolds, and there was a lot of carburettor tuning and recurving of distributor’s ignition systems.
It meant I had a really good grasp of how an engine works.
So I was working long hours at Mosman but bolting up to a mate’s place in the Blue
Mountains to ride and race dirt bikes every weekend. The mate worked at Ballard’s, and he said they were having trouble getting a good mechanic.
I looked at it and thought if I was ever going to have a bit of a tree change and go and do something that I like doing and live in a place I like living, this was my chance. I loved the Blue Mountains, and I loved the air up there and the slightly more relaxed way of life.
That was it. I moved to Springwood and worked on bikes at Ballard’s in late 1998.
AdvR: Was the change to bikes like a huge moment of fulfilment?
ND: Not really.
You have to look at it from my point of view. I just love machines. It doesn’t matter
what it is. It could be a tractor. I’m just fascinated by how things work. Once I pull it apart and understand how it works, I can then get my head around how I can make it better.
So while I’m a crazy motorcycle enthusiast, I’m actually a crazy mechanic before I’m anything else.
AdvR: You weren’t at Ballard’s for all that long.
ND: About a year.
Geoff and I didn’t see eye to eye on how to make the workshop work. Finally Geoff said the workshop wasn’t profitable and he closed it down. I bought Ballard’s workshop equipment, rented this place, built a workbench and all of Ballard’s work was being referred here.
Left: Nick Dole would like to build his own shock and fork cartridge.
Right: As a qualified mechanic and auto elec, Nick is comfortable jumping on the tools.
AdvR: After all that time in steady employment, how did you feel that first day you threw up the roller door and said, “Here I am, open for business!”
ND: Very naked. Of course it was scary. AdvR: But you knew what you wanted to do?
ND: I thought there was an opportunity in offering good technical services to the motorcycle industry, and I thought there was a better opportunity in the suspension business than anything else. I knew the motocross market was always fairly saturated, and it wasn’t something I really had much interest in from a business point of view.
I’d had a little bit of experience with road-bike suspension when Eddy Warren raced the Six Hour. Ed had a ZX-9, and Kawasaki Australia had the road-race specs from Kawasaki Japan. Ed gave the specs to me and said, “There’s a fork and there’s a shock. I need that in there. I don’t know how, but that’s what I need.”
I’d never pulled a pair of road forks apart, but when I got them apart I thought, “They’re simpler than a dirt fork.” It was like an XR that was old.
So I knew I wanted to do roadbike suspension.
AdvR: Why get into manufacture?
ND: I’d seen with Ballard’s that international distribution contracts were worthless.
I’d seen FMF pulled out from under Geoff Ballard. I thought Geoff had done quite a reasonable job in promoting the FMF brand here, and all his hard work and marketing had been for nothing.
I thought if I was going to build a brand, it was going to be mine. That’s why we’ve never really been an agent for someone else’s products. We do a little of that, but very little.
I also found I couldn’t buy parts from a local importer. He said I was too close by and was competition, and he wouldn’t supply me.
It dawned on me after a year or two: I thought building a damper, building a shock absorber, in house, was something I’d really like to do. And making cartridge kits. That excited me from engineering, design and marketing perspectives. There’s all sorts of things about manufacturing your own products that I really liked.
So I thought I’d get fork springs made, and shock springs made, and I’d just have my own product.
AdvR: What was the first thing you had made as a Teknik suspension component?
Right now Teknik’s inventory is about 1500 components, but it’s growing all the time. Left: Ernie, in charge of maintaining sanity and smiles in the Teknik workshop.
That was a lot of springs. When they I arrived I looked at them and thought, “Man. This is serious. I’m either going to die with all this stock, or it’ll work.”
ND: It was a base valve for the KTM fork.
I was buying components from Norm at Suspension Tech in Auckland, and I learned a lot from Norm’s experiences. He was getting the engineering company that was making the parts for him to do the technical drawings for the parts. Then Norm found the company would make 100 parts for him, but sell 50 out the back door. When Norm tried to stop that, it turned out the engineering company owned the drawings and could do whatever they liked with them.
So one of the first lessons I learned was the drawing has to be yours. You’ve got to draw the part yourself and design the part yourself. If you own the drawing, you can get the part made wherever you want.
I do the designs and the drawings for Teknik components.
AdvR: What’s been the biggest thrill of having your own business so far?
ND: Probably the first really big shipment of springs we did out of the US in 2004. It was something like $50,000 worth.
The springs went off the shelves really fast, and I could see the business was going to be viable.”
AdvR: What does the future hold for Teknik?
ND: I’m quite passionate about Australian manufacturing, but I think we can’t make things in the traditional manufacturing sense any more.
It was a big eye-opener for me when I went to Öhlins in 2008. I had an expectation that Öhlins machined up its own parts, but it doesn’t. It has engineers and CAD draftsmen, and then there’s hundreds of subcontracted manufacturers making different parts all over the place. Öhlins brings all the parts together to produce the product.
I think as a business model for manufacturing in Australia, that’s really good.
I haven’t changed what I would like to do. I want to make a shock absorber and a fork cartridge kit, and I think that’s how it can be done.
Safari-Enduro
The ride started on Sunday, August 12th, with a welcome function on Darwin Harbour and concluded on Monday evening at Palm Cove, Queensland, eight days and 3200km later.
The 85 participants were treated to some incredible riding and scenery and many were challenged with the ever-changing conditions. Sometimes sandy, rocky, and other times fast with floodways that could easily catch out a rider. There’s no doubt riding through the NT and Queensland Gulf country is epic and extreme. The remoteness of the ride was always taken into consideration. Adding to the adventure was mixing it up with massive, dust-churning road trains as well as the local wildlife, including many varieties of birds, ‘roos, emus, snakes, lizards, wild horses, dingos and the much-feared crocs.
Many riders spent their first night ever in a swag. A BMW Safari swag was included with the entry fee and used on about half the overnight stops.
During the camping nights everyone was treated to some incredible food provided by various caterers. On other nights riders lived it up in hotel rooms and indulged in pub or restaurant cuisine.
The vision
There was an extensive support team on hand to provide assistance when required.
Two massive Dakar-looking trucks swept the ride, one as technical support and the other as a luggage and spare-bike transporter. On bikes were technical as well as medical support, both of which gratefully had a very quiet week.
The event admin team
bounced along in a four-wheel drive with a trailer while on bikes a professional film team (Adam and Elliot, the drone) and a
photographer documented the ride, and each rider will receive images and video to relive their adventure.
Riders gathered from all corners of the country, some spending many weeks just getting to Darwin. On top of that there were two internationals, Alex from Russia and Peter from Denmark, who joined in the fun. Some riders will have clocked up close to 20,000km by the time they pull up in their driveways. Others had their bikes transported and flew in and out.
Up for grabs
It was obvious to see from the first day the Safari participants operated like a team, many helping each other out when required. A lot of stories were told around the fire or bar in the evenings and a lot of friendships were made.
It was a mix of satisfaction and sadness at the Palm Cove farewell function as riders prepared to say their goodbyes after such a great week of riding. As well as giving away some prizes an auction was held to raise funds for the Black Dog Ride charity that BMW supports. An entry, including the #1 participant plate, to the 2014 TS or GS Safari fetched $3500, way over the expected $600 to $800 value.
Back to normal
Many riders are now back to their normal lives, but the 2014 GS Safari-Enduro will remain in all of the riders’ minds for many years to come.
You can get a taste of the superb riding and camaraderie at www.youtube.com/ channel/UCh01MdCnpTiLCMgsgNwucmQ and stay in touch with the BMW folks on Facebook at www.facebook.com/ bmwmotorradaus.
South America is truly an exotic and exciting destination for adventure riders. Ian Bowden found out just how amazing it can be.
Words and images: Ian
Bowden
Main: The Death Road actually The World’s Deadliest Road. Trucks used to drive down here. Mike and Angela had a look over the side.
Below: Overlooking the town of Quime on a clear mountain morning.
Right: A fall over the edge of The Death Road can be serious.
I’ve always dreamed of going to South America, seeing and riding through the mighty Andes. When I found out Mike and Angela from Britton Adventures were planning a ride in Bolivia that fitted in well with my commitments, that got me thinking. After getting the green light from my wife, it took me all of five minutes to decide, ‘I’m going!’
Not the first
time
I’d been on Britton Motorcycle Adventure tours in the past, so I knew their tours aren’t just rides, but true adventures, and riders didn’t need to worry about anything. It’s all done, and they’re masters at sorting any issues that arise. For a busy person like me, that’s important.
I opted for the three-day Machu Picchu addon – as did everyone else on the tour. It was to be a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
A four-hour stopover in Bolivia’s capital, La Paz, was our introduction to high altitude with the airport at 4090m above sea level. It does take the wind out of your sails! But in true Britton style, Mike and Angela had arranged a tour and meal in town. From there we headed to Cochabamba where we met up with Mike and Angela and our local guides, Cory and John. Cory and John had lived in Bolivia for quite some time, spoke fluent Spanish, knew their way around and looked after us well. A cold beer and a soft pillow finished us off for the day.
Cochabamba
The ride started with an easy day planned to break us in.
In the morning we visited the historic Convento De Santa Teresa, where the Carmelite nuns resided. After that a drive took us to the city’s highest hill, featuring a great view and a huge statue of Christ, similar to the one in Rio de Janiero.
Our bikes for the tour were a mix of XRs, u
DRs, a KLX and a BMW F800GS. We didn’t have to carry any gear as we had a Nissan four-wheel-drive support vehicle, so we puttered off into the surrounding hills for an easy four-hour ride to get used to the altitude and terrain.
On the road to Quime
We set off early the next morning and were soon clear of the city, winding our way up into the mountains.
We climbed and climbed a winding road until we reached a pass at 4500m where we stopped to regroup and put on warmer clothes. At this point we were higher than Mt Kosciuszko, and still the mountains towered above us. The Andes are high and vast.
We stopped soon after for the first of many picnic-type lunches from the Nissan. Angela was in charge so we were well fed.
The afternoon riding was even more spectacular. There was an even higher, colder pass, which threw a little snow on us before it descended a huge glacial valley to Quime and our accommodation for the
night, Marko the Alaskan hermit’s hostel.
No matter where you go in the world you’ll find a retired hippie, and Marko was certainly one. He’d probably chewed a few too many coca leaves in his time, but we had a great time in the rustic setting and finished the day drinking beer out of peanut-butter jars, and a few accepted Marko’s offer of coca leaves.
Chulumani
After a nice breakfast – and a Condor sighting – the descent continued on dirt roads down into the Amazon basin.
The temperature climbed into the low-30s and cold-weather clothes were shed, and after another of Angela’s lunches on a rather dusty road we had what was referred to as a ‘little incident’. Bryan glanced behind briefly, and when he returned his attention to the road ahead, it was gone! Unfortunately for him so was he – over the edge. Luckily it wasn’t a sheer drop and he didn’t go too far, injuring only his pride. The XR650 did slide a further 20m down and proved quite a mission to recover. With the help of passing
Above left: The first of many high mountain passes. 5000m is ‘the foothills’ in the Andes.
Above: A local girl in Quime offers the use of her phone.
Below left: Another carnival, this time at night in Cusco, Peru.
Below: A Rolex anyone, or perhaps some spring onions?
locals and tow straps looped together we managed to haul it back up the slope and were soon on our way again.
Our super-guide John deserves a mention here for throwing a rope down the bank without holding onto one end.
A well-deserved beer was enjoyed at the Apa Apa ecological reserve in Chulumani that night, and a pet pig nibbling on your feet under the dinner table is rather different, I must say. Normally it’s people nibbling on pig trotters. Hail to the revenge of the pig!
The Death Road
The next day was to be one of the highlights, negotiating the famed Death Road.
Mind you, we first had to ride the world’s dustiest road which, due to its steepness, drop-offs and traffic, would probably rate as more dangerous.
The drop-offs on the Death Road did require care and respect, and glancing over the edge did give you vertigo. It was a scenic wonderland though, and a fantastic day’s riding, finishing in Coroico at a very good pizza restaurant. I’m not sure why, but Bolivia has an awful lot of pizza places. I thought the Spanish ran the show there in the early days, not the Italians.
The zip line
We decided on an adrenalin fix to start our next day and eagerly parted with good money to try out one of the world’s longest flying foxes, called a ‘zip line’ in Bolivia. It was great!
There’s nothing to compare to being tethered to a high wire and soaring like a Condor across three valleys with a serious amount of air between you and the ground.
Once fizzed up we headed to La Paz on
a fantastic winding road built to bypass the Death Road. This led to another seriously high mountain pass with snow-covered tops, before descending into Bolivia’s capital city for the night.
A wet start
As we left La Paz the morning skies opened, dumping rain and hail on us. Fortunately this didn’t last too long and we were soon on dry roads with our damp gear drying in the arid air.
The highlight of this day was
arriving in a small town as a street carnival was taking place, and the enthusiastic band and the performers with their colourful attire made a great spectacle. We capped off the day with a fantastic ‘road race’ on a road built in heaven, arriving in picturesque Copacabana on the shores of Lake Titicaca late in the day.
The $5 speeding ticket
Another damp start greeted us after two days in Copacabana.
After a ferry trip across the lake we hit the road to Oruro, mainly on bitumen, running into a large protest over a district not having tap water. This proved a little
Above: Fantastic desert riding on the way to Uyuni. Below left: Look closely. There’s a bike and rider down there. No damage and no injuries, and a group effort had the tour on its way again in no time.
difficult to get around when the protesters closed the road, but local knowledge, good Spanish and a bit of bullshit got us through.
The highlight of the day was our fearless lead rider John getting zapped by a Bolivian police speed trap. He was nabbed for overtaking on double yellows and speeding, but the fine was $5!
Heck, back home that’s loss-of-licence and $300.
John had a few funny stories of negotiating traffic fines in Bolivia. Don’t try this at home.
Uyuni
Our next destination was the town of Uyuni, famous for the huge salt flats close by.
I was feeling a bit jaded due to bad rumblings in the plumbing department, and I’d had a salad with my burger the night before. Salad can be a problem if it’s washed in the local water. I toughed it out though because the riding was mainly through magnificent desert terrain similar to the deserts of the USA.
It was a long day and Uyuni was a welcome sight, with a two-day stop scheduled.
In the morning we visited the train graveyard, a popular tourist spot. There sure was a lot of dead trains and parts there, and following that we headed for the mighty Uyuni salt flats for a play and picnic lunch. We had a lot of fun blasting around and doing silly things on the salt, but the highlight for me was being mobbed by a group of pretty
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Bolivian ladies keen on motorcycles and motorcyclists. They took the opportunity to have their photos taken on the bikes with us. There was plenty of shutter action, and we’re probably all on their Facebook pages now.
Fortunately the antibiotic I took had kicked in, clearing up the plumbing problem. There weren’t many places on the salt for an evacuation.
Tupiza
The trip just kept getting better!
Another fantastic day’s riding took us through more desert country, and the scenery was great and the riding first class.
The desert terrain changed to more hills and canyons as we neared Tupiza, with the final blast down a canyon-surrounded river bed being fast and heaps of fun.
That night we dined at the Alamo. John Wayne wasn’t there, but they played our songs, so we stayed on for a few wines to finish a great day.
Potosi and the big bang theory
It was a cruisey bitumen ride to our next destination, the historic mining town of Potosi.
At one stage in the early days, the silver mined at Potosi kept Spain going. It’s a pity they didn’t keep some – they could do with it now. It was mostly taken from a huge hill overlooking the town, and it’s still actively mined for tin, copper and zinc, even though most of the silver is long gone. It was a blast when we all rode our bikes up slippery tile steps and into our hotel lobby, much to the surprise of other guests.
We took a tour into one of the tin mines, once described as the depths of hell. It sure was, and none of us would ever be tempted into mining I’m sure. Our guide explained how they chewed coca leaves to stave off the hunger so they’d work longer with minimal breaks – wonderful! Scott was rapt when he found out it was only $3 for a stick of dynamite with a fuse, detonator and some urea to make the bang bigger. He promptly made a purchase. Unfortunately the environmentalists have stopped you being able to blow chunks off the hillside now, so we decided to blow up something in the desert in the next day or two.
Sucre and Mizque
After our mine tour and lunch we rode to Sucre, ‘The White City’. This is a picturesque city and a World Heritage-listed site where
Above: A great road desending to a glacial valley near Quime.
Right: Author Ian enjoyed being mobbed by pretty Bolivian ladies.
the buildings are all painted white.
The following day we had a nice, varied ride on a mix of tar and dirt to Mizque. Unfortunately we were unable to find anywhere deserted enough to get up to mischief with the dynamite. The countryside was too populated for the big bang we’d planned, so Scott tossed the explosives into a flooded river not far from a sign that said ‘No dynamite fishing’. I was a bit disappointed he didn’t light the fuse, but maybe the threat of 20 years in a Bolivian prison softened him a bit. He kept the fuse and detonator which was used at lunch to blow a Barbie and GI Joe sky high, much to the amusement of a local family – crazy westerners!
Last day
We rode from Mizque to Cochabamba on a fabulous dirt road to finish our Bolivian adventure back where we’d started 17 days earlier. Celebratory drinks were knocked back, along with a lovely meal at Cory’s
hacienda. We cleaned our gear and bodies prior to bidding farewell to Cory and his family whom we thanked for helping make it such a memorable trip, and a short flight to La Paz ended our day.
Peru and the lost Inca city of Machu Picchu
The three-day add-on was next: a visit to one of the wonders of the world.
We stayed at a lovely old hotel right in the centre of Cusco, and we were full-blown bus tourists heading to Ollantaytambo and the Sacred Valley with an excellent guide for a day’s tourist action.
In the morning we caught the Peru rail vistadome train to Aguas Calientes followed by a bus ride up the steep mountainside to the lost Inca city of Machu Picchu and an excellent tour of the city and ruins.
Later we caught the same train for a scenic trip back to Cusco, arriving in the dark to a fantastic street carnival, right outside our hotel in the main city square.
I don’t know how Mike and Angela organised all this entertainment and timed it so well.
Homeward bound
It was good to get home after 24 days, but it was an adventure I’ll never forget. We covered close to 3000km on the bikes in Bolivia, saw and experienced some incredible sights, met lots of friendly people, all got on great, and no-one got hurt. What more could you ask for?
The hardest thing about writing this story was trying to fit it all in, and I couldn’t. These are just a few highlights. There was more –a lot more – but it’s something you have to experience for yourself.
A workhorse for a Moose and an Old Bull.
There’s a tiny subculture emerging in the adventurebike world – riders who are choosing small, light bikes instead of the big horsepower mounts that lead the field.
Probably the smallest of the bikes available to those who still want to tackle serious adventure is Yamaha’s WR250R. The trail-ready WR-R – as opposed to the enduro-ready WR-F –is a featherweight, fuel-injected, 250cc four-stroke weighing in at a svelte 134kg, fully fuelled and ready to go.
We can imagine crusty old readers snorting and rolling their eyes at the idea a 250cc four-stroke could cope with the kind of riding and distances they do, but guess what?
This bike can. Easy.
Tried and tested
Since the WR-R’s release in 2007 it’s been tested and hammered by all kinds of riders in all kinds of high-stress situations, and it’s yet to be found wanting. We remember Geoff Ballard competing in an Australian Off Road Championship round on one –complete with lights and horn, both of which he flashed and honked at the editor as he sailed past – and John Liddell having a good run at the Condo 750 on another. We’ve seen them hoot out to Cameron Corner and back and we’ve even treated several different WR-Rs with a great deal of disrespect on various rides in various countries and we’re still yet to have one let us down or stop because we found its limits.
So there’s no question about the WR250R’s reliability or capability. It’s rock-solid and a lot of fun. It’s also well capable of droning along the bitumen for hundreds of kilometres. We’ve done that on them, too.
Left: For a tiddler, the WR250R can carry an amazing amount of luggage and comfortably cover some big distance.
Top right: The bike is lightweight, incredibly durable, has brilliant fuel economy, and is a scream to ride. That’s some big boxes ticked.
Middle right: Stewart ‘Moose’ Steel (left) and Greg ‘Old Bull’ Yager.
Bottom right: You reckon a 250cc trailbike can’t be classed as adventurer? How many riders do you know do things so tough they need to carry a chainsaw?
The same, but different
That brings us to Greg Yager, a 46-yearold diesel mechanic who runs rides all over creation through his company RideAdv – or as it used to be known, The Old Bull Trailriders.
On the day we caught up with him –probably the only time we’ll catch the guy. He rides a fair ol’ pace – Greg was out pre-riding the Bridge To Bridge with Stewart ‘Moose’ Steel. RideAdv has an association with Yamaha and AdventureMoto, and although he does his sweeping and leading on 660 Ténérés, Greg does the survey and pre-ride work on these two WR250Rs. The bikes were built to Greg and Steve’s specs by Greg and Geoff (Lefty) Forshaw at GFMS in NSW’s Blue Mountains.
So we’re actually looking at two bikes here, both the same in essentials like engine and suspension, but each having some variations for the rider’s preference. One bike is Greg’s and the other is Steve Smith’s, the main man at AdventureMoto.
Good things in small packages
“I’ll go on record as saying I thought the WR250R was a bit of a girl’s bike,” Greg told us around a fast-disappearing bulk order of McDonald’s. “I’m 110kg plus I carry a lot of gear. I didn’t think a bike like that could do me any good.”
Greg’s view of the WR250R probably fits
u
the view most hard-bitten adventurers have of the Yamaha. Yamaha Motor Australia, who were supplying 660 Ténérés for the Old Bull/RideAdv series, offered a couple of WR250Rs for survey bikes after the Ténérés proved a handful in some of the sticky situations discovered on new and unknown routes. Like so many who give the WR250R a try, Greg’s opinion changed dramatically after riding the WR-R.
“It’s the best thing in our quiver at the moment,” trembled Greg. “Those bikes are the greatest things!
“The biggest problem we have now is we’ll set the ride and fly through something, then when we come back during the event on the big bikes, we’ll be hammering along and thinking, ‘Geez! I don’t remember it being this tough’. Of course it wasn’t that tough on the WR-R. On the big bikes it’s a different story.”
So the toughest work of all, the pre-run and survey riding is done by the WR250Rs. After that they’re at the events on the trailer in case there’s a problem with any of the crews’ bikes.
Greg’s final word on the WR250R?
“I’ve never seen a bike you can ride so hard, non-stop, and it just takes it.”
That’s a big testament to the ability of the WR-Rs.
Nitty gritty
The two bikes are very similar, but there are a couple of personal-choice differences. Greg’s bike runs Pivot Pegz and a Barrett pipe, while Steve’s bike runs a large, platform-type ’peg and a new pipe the guys are trying. Development is ongoing, so Greg’s bike has a single-stage suspension setting on the front while Steve’s bike has a dual-stage rig.
Nick Dole developed the suspension, and aside from springs and valving to suit the hard riding these bikes are expected to do, the piston-band in the shock
Above: Barkbusters Blizzards! Good stuff. Anyone who’s not running these is being a fool to themselves and a burden to others.
The screen is a big bonus for long-distance work.
Above left: Heated grips. Yes!
Middle left: A custom-embroidered seat is a nice touch.
Bottom left: The stock suspension is actually pretty good, but for the kind of hard life these two bikes get, a little Teknik magic makes a huge difference.
Right: The bikes are built specifically for pre-riding and finding routes for the RideAdv events, so nav gear gets a high priority.
“We can imagine crusty old readers snorting and rolling their eyes at the idea of a 250cc four-stroke”
needed to be replaced to cope with the heavy-duty workload. Pistons and bands are replaced in both bikes.
Barkbusters VPS ’bars, handguards and Blizzards replace the stockers, Screens For Bikes screens keep the windblast under control, Barrett slip-on pipes replace the standard mufflers (the stock header stays), AdventureMoto luggage and racks, B&B bashplates and radiator guards, and, finally, larger fuel cells offering a range of around 450km. It makes a very capable adventure package.
Breathe
The bikes look the business, especially with Greg on board, carving his way through some wet, tightish forest for what might turn out to be a ‘special’ section on a future ride.
But even so, things are still being tried and reviewed.
“Yesterday the Yamaha guys had me change the CO2 mapping on my bike and I can’t believe the difference,” said Greg. “There’s so much more bottom-end and mid-range. It’s incredible.”
It’s a change made via the speedo controls, and something any owner can try.
Along with the ignition map, Greg’s trying a lower gearing. The standard front stays, but the rear is a 45tooth, and it allows the bike to still run comfortably at freeway speeds, but makes for a lot less gear changing in tight going.
On a typical survey or pre-run ride with Greg, these bikes will do between 300km and 600km per day for a week or more. Would Greg call them tough kilometres?
“Shit, yes. It’s brutal what we’ve done in just these last five days.”
And that’s the kind of riding these bikes will have to cope with as long as Greg has them.
If the WR-Rs can handle the things Greg Yager asks of them, we bet there’s not too many of our readers who need worry the WR250R won’t cope with the riding they do.
rideadv
Greg kicked off his trail rides under the banner ‘Old Bull Trailrides’. These were free rides where anyone could show up, Greg would load the ride onto their GPS, than he and his mates would spend the time sweeping the course and helping out wherever needed.
Over time the numbers grew and things became just a tad too involved. With Yamaha, AdventureMoto, Barrett’s and Barkbusters on board, and a heap of industry support, Greg and his logistics man, Michael Struck, coped as long as they could. But finally things became just too big and the change to RideAdv became a necessity. Now the rides are $65 per day, and that includes two support vehicles and a crew of six, as well as some insurance protection for the organisers.
The rides happen up and down the east coast, and we know from experience how good they are. Log on to www.rideadv.com.au for rides and more information. Tell ’em we sent you, and don’t get behind the sweeps, okay?
Wet weight (stock bike): 134kg with eight litres of fuel
India
Expect the unexpected
Words: Graham Collins. Images: Graham and Emma
Main: A tyre store came in handy. Have a look at those pannier racks for a heavy-duty set-up!
Right: The author, Graham, on his rented Royal Enfield.
It hits you. The noise, the smell, the pollution, the heat and the people – all 1.03 billion of them. The air was a thick mix of exhaust fumes, incense, curry, cow shit and body odour. Delhi is no place for personal space.
With a backpack over my shoulder and helmet in hand, I began to wonder what I’d gotten myself into. I’d never meant to do this alone, but my travel partner (an English girl I’d met in Uganda) was in a London hospital. So here I was – just one billion Indians and me.
Bless you
After two months in sub-Saharan Africa my body was struggling to acclimatise to an underground Indian bike shop at 6:30am. I had no idea it could get below zero degrees on the streets of Delhi.
A Royal Enfield mechanic demonstrated the ways I might repair the bike on the side of a road with nothing but the spares kit. Formalities over and 16,000 rupees paid, it seemed a blessing was appropriate. I stood surprised as smoking incense sticks were waved over the bike and me.
After placing an ‘Om’ sticker (one of Hinduism’s most venerated symbols, stuck or stamped onto almost every surface in India) on my headlight and a ring of garlands around the ’bars, I was instructed to take to the stage with my own words of prayer while eating something yellow and disgusting.
Somewhat unprepared for both, I prayed for bike safety and for Emma’s infection to pass so she could join me ASAP.
A little strange
It only took 20 minutes before I had my first puncture.
Before I had time to roll to a stop there were 45 enthusiastic, smiling, Indian men pulling the back of my bike apart. I was happy to accept the help since I hadn’t paid attention during my do-it-yourself mechanics lesson and it seemed being a foreigner was an automatic ticket to celebrity – the flat tyre just added an element of drama, and I loved every moment.
I managed to make my way to the middle of the scrum to find my bike had been completely stripped from the tank back. I was shocked. I had no idea how to reattach my wheel to the swingarm which was on the ground beside the 45 confused, slightly less-chatty mechanics.
A phone call and 90 minutes later I’d managed to track down some experienced help. Then it came time to say my goodbyes and offer
baksheesh (a tip, donation or bribe).
At the second puncture later that day I politely declined the offer of help and went about the repair myself, although the activity still drew a curious crowd. Fortunately, I was only interrupted once, and that was by a mobile phone stuffed between my nose and the back wheel, followed by the heavily accented words, “Look! Porn! You like?”
Suddenly I had one of those moments where I could see myself. In that moment I was in a town I didn’t know the name of, following a road to somewhere unknown, changing a tyre I didn’t know how to fix, and watching porn on a mobile phone
with five laughing young Indians somewhere in Rajasthan.
Tea for two
Standing 1.8 metres tall with a full head of grey hair and dressed in a traditional Mundu, my host had an air of nobility and wisdom. His presence was gentle and welcoming. With the help of my phrase book we worked out he was a retired university lecturer and I found the translation for ‘builder’ to explain what I did.
It never ceases to amaze me how a combination of sign language, body language and eye contact can overcome all language
Below: The ultimate in subcontinental protective gear: a garland of flowers and a blessing.
barriers. The tyre repair shop where I was getting a new tube for my third puncture belonged to the man’s son-in-law. He sent a boy to fetch some chai. We sat together drinking the milky, sweetly spiced tea that can be seen boiling on the side of any road in India. It was not until I was on my way again – with a big smile across my face – I realised just how grateful I was to have had the puncture in the first place.
I love the little detours you find when things have seemingly gone wrong, yet turn out quite the opposite.
No place like home
After almost a week of filthy accommodation I wanted somewhere clean to stay. My clothes and I desperately needed a wash. I’d read the Hotel Shivann Palace had exceptional management and spotless rooms, so I hailed a tuk tuk on the outskirts of Bikaner and asked the driver to lead the way.
Almost as soon as I’d arrived, and before I even had a chance to check out the accommodation, an elderly man offered, “Your room will be ready in a few minutes”. This was surprising since I’d turned up unannounced.
I was struck by the homely feel of the room. There were family photos and portraits on the walls and doilies on the tables, as well as polished timber floors with detailed inlays, timber joinery and built-in wardrobes on two sides. A large window with lace curtains lit the room. Through one of the doors a short hallway led to an ensuite.
After having my first hot shower and shave in almost a week, I was lying on the bed wearing nothing but a towel and watching the Bollywood Music Channel when my host entered the room after a short knock and proceeded to grab some underwear and a clean shirt from the wardrobe.
It was then I realised I was living in the ‘house’ part with the rest of the family –which explained the family photos and doilies. Not only that, but the mother and father had given up their room for me.
Later that evening I discovered nobody else was staying there. They told me there was no point in opening the hotel just u
for me, and it was easier to have me live with them instead.
I was a guest in this family’s home. It was such a loving and interesting family that I stayed for three nights.
Going my way?
Jaisalmer, a big sandcastle-like fort and old camel-train stopover on the former trade route to Asia, was in my mirrors. I was heading for Khuri, where my map stopped and the Great Thar Desert began.
It was on this road a lone Indian man waved
me down. Pulling up beside him, he promptly jumped on the back of my bike, tapped me on the shoulder and waved his hand in a forward motion. I hadn’t yet had a chance to lift my helmet to say hello or ask how I could help, but I figured he knew we wouldn’t understand each other so there was no point even trying. His way worked perfectly. Another tap on the shoulder when he wanted to get off was all it took for us to part ways as quickly as we’d met. I repeated this process twice more in the time before meeting back up with Emma.
Tank trap
On every side, and as far as the eye could see, were rolling, yellow sand dunes.
I’d been off the bike and pushing alongside the road for at least an hour when the tarmac disappeared. I was exhausted, hot, tired and thirsty. I hadn’t seen another soul since Khuri, 150km ago, and I figured I must have been close to the Pakistan border. I’d had a big tank fitted before I left Delhi, but was still desperately low on fuel and starting to worry – the desert was no place to be stranded.
After a test of endurance, I finally got through the worst of the sand and started riding again.
Later, I stumbled on an Indian army depot.
Emma joined the adventure after a stint in a London hospital.
In May of 1998, India detonated five nuclear devices in Pokaran, 110km east of Jaisalmer. It left a deep wound in the desert, and nowadays is a strict no-go zone guarded by the military.
I started laughing inside my helmet at the sight of the depot. I rode in and greeted an interested soldier, pointing to my fuel tank and asking for petrol in what little Hindi I knew. I didn’t understand his words, but the shaking of the head from side to side was clear. They only had diesel. He pointed back at the gate and down the track saying the same word repeatedly. The name of a town, I assumed.
I had no choice. He patted my shoulder with this free hand (his other was busy with his gun) as I rode off. The track became a road and I was in luck.
It’s amazing the confidence a full tank of fuel can give you.
See the light
January 26 marked Emma’s return and the commencement of India’s Republic Day parade. The whole country was one massive party.
We rode through Salambar, about 100km southeast of Udiapur, and there were streamers, posters, balloons and Bollywood music everywhere – the place was full of noise and life. At one stage we saw what looked like about a thousand people, mainly school kids and young men, obviously gathered around a spectacle of some kind. We pulled over to see they were watching a young man smashing fluorescent tubes over his head.
That was the performance!
They were going ballistic with excitement and applause.
As soon as we came into view everyone stopped and stared. We were well and truly off the tourist trail and our arrival ignited quite a surprise. They were transfixed, staring at us with looks both curious
and tentatively friendly.
“Namaste,” we both greeted them gently. Immediately their faces lit up with big, beaming smiles. The young girls wore decorative jewellery, nose-rings and earrings, their hair immaculately done. The boys and young men were dressed in stain-free white shirts, trousers and trendy denim. Indians carry themselves with a pride and appearance that stands in striking contrast to their surrounds. It seemed impossible they could look as good as they did because of where they came from. The streets were crowded with animals – some dead, most alive and just about all starving – and there are no sewage or garbage systems. The contrast between these two sides of India is startling, and still manages to blow me away.
In my travels around the world I’ve found, despite living conditions, people are proud of their culture and their country. Indians took it to a new level – one of beauty. We started to mingle and to make friends.
A young, well-dressed, and well-spoken
man invited us on a tour of the town to an old palace, so we made our way back to the bike with our new guide. About 600 people followed us. It was amazing. There was yelling, shouting, screaming and laughing all around us, and a uniformed police officer appeared, blowing his whistle to clear a path.
We managed to out-pace the excited mob, dodging cows, goats, dogs, pigs and people. After going over speed bumps, through drains and cow poo, past open doorways and under hanging washing, we arrived at the centre of the maze, the ruins of the old Maharaja Palace and former residence of the local royal family. u
‘Camel back’ means something different in India.
Are you happy to see me? Or is that a gun?
We weren’t married, had no kids, no jobs and it was possible we would never see each other again after this trip.
Explaining all this, with only a Hindi phrase book, to a culture where family responsibility is of the utmost importance and where arranged marriages can take place between children as young as 12 wasn’t the easiest thing I’ve ever had to do.
“Would you like to shoot my dad’s gun?” came an offer from out of nowhere. I looked at Emma to see her eyebrows were raised in amused concern as the young man returned with his father’s old black-powder rifle. Suddenly realising what I was about to do, both of us madly tried to find out just how old it was and when it was last fired.
Both Emma and I stood, eyes wide open, as one of our hosts poured in the gunpowder, rammed down the shot, then handed the loaded weapon to me. It had all happened so fast – only 20 seconds before I’d been quietly eating a banana!
Ratan’s father apparently used it to shoot tigers. Suddenly I felt like I was holding a piece of British Raj history.
With a face full of sparks from the flint and a big bang, flames shot a metre from the barrel. Surrounded with smoke, I was laughing so hard I could hardly stand up. I looked at Emma and we stared at each other in disbelief. Now it was her turn!
Survivor
I’d learnt there’s a pecking order based on size on the roads of India. The bigger you are the less you move out of the way. Being on a bike put us firmly to the bottom of that order –even some pigs were bigger than us.
As I rode along, I was constantly checking the condition of the tarmac along the road’s edge. Planning an escape route was the second thing I learnt.
The third thing I learnt was that the horn is a lifeline on Indian roads. Along with flashing the headlight, the horn is used for everything. If you have to brake, speed up, turn, if you see another bike, car, bus or truck…whatever. You honk. All of this honking is just for what’s in front of you. Behind you is not your problem. Rear-view mirrors are not used. The horn is your friend. It’s a survival tool.
The movie experience
India’s Bollywood was born in 1897 and has a global audience of 3.7 billion, compared to Hollywood’s 2.6 billion. We decided dinner and a movie were on the cards for a quiet night out in Jaipur, home of India’s movie industry.
Leaving our guesthouse and walking into town we were swamped by rickshaw drivers. One of my new friends, Harsh, came up beside us on his pedal rickshaw for a chat. For a few rupees he could take us anywhere in town. Shortly I found myself at the pedal-end of the bike with Emma and Harsh in the back. The reaction I drew from passing traffic and pedestrians was hilarious. Cars, rickshaws and pushbikes all stopped to clap, laugh and point.
I can’t begin to explain how difficult it is to operate one of these rickshaws. The forks are on a near 45-degree angle with about 12cm of play in the steering column. There was only a single gear, which I found neither easy to get started or maintain speed with. With my legs burning and my lungs gasping for clean air, I pulled over outside the cinema.
The place was solid; full of fashionably dressed young Indians, both male and
female, dressed to impress for a night on the town. There were people standing on seats yelling across the cinema to friends and talking on phones. With the film starting, popcorn was thrown skywards, young women screamed out at the top of their lungs to handsome leads, and young men cheered their idols. This continued for each new actor and actress to appear.
The film was entirely in Hindi – there were no English subtitles – which was fine. I spent as much time watching the audience as I did the screen.
Unforgettable
As it was getting towards the last few nights on our bike, we decided to go out for a drink in Agra. We chose the Oberoi hotel with its view of the Taj Mahal.
Without a doubt, it was one of the most exquisite meals and memorable nights of all my travels, and perhaps even my life. And
all for the sum of 14,395 rupees – which was almost as much as our bike! It was worth every rupee.
Having the bike in India allowed me freedom. Freedom meant riding alone through the Great Thar Desert and following any course or turn I pleased. It filled me up and emptied me out all at the same time. I wasn’t bound by public transport or timetable. If I found somewhere I liked, I stayed. This was only made apparent to me when comparing stories with other travellers in the larger towns. Travelling between the temples and palaces, they were left stuck on a platform for a train that was four hours late at 2.00am. My stories happened in between those palaces. I could see the envy in their eyes as I relayed our experiences.
Actually, everything I just told you is what happened in between the big landmarks.
That’s what a bike and an adventurous spirit can do for you.
off-road test BMW F 700 GS
Compact and lightweight, the F700GS offers a smooth, fast adventure option.
The bike you see here is the 798cc, liquid -cooled, parallel-twin, ‘little brother’ to the F800GS. We guess that makes it an even littler brother to the F800GSA.
You could look at it that way and wonder why anyone would want what seems to be a little less of everything compared to the 800s. Or you could look at it from the point of view of what this bike offers. If you approach the 700 with that attitude, it’s surprising just how much the 700 has going for it – not least is a snorty little engine and the type of ergos that just beg to carve up mountain roads.
History
On release the F700GS was called the F650GS…we think…and looked very similar to the bike you see here, except it had a single front disc. At that time everyone loved it but said, “Bring on the 800!”
Since then the F800GS has arrived and even spawned the F800GSA, so where does that leave the 700?
Let’s consider the important differences.
The motor looks the same on the spec sheet, but in fact is tuned for 75 horsepower, as opposed to the 85 horsepower of the 800, and the gearing is shorter. Alongside that is the weight of the 700GS being 20kg less than the GSA – a chunk of that is fuel, of course – and the seat height on this bike is a very manageable and comfortable 820mm compared to the GSA’s 890mm gusset-stretcher, and that makes for an easy mount and dismount.
So the F700GS is a smaller, tighter, slimmer, lower bike than its F800GS stablemates, and that means some very significant and interesting feel and performance changes.
Lean times
The first thing to hit us when we climbed on the 700 was how slim it felt.
Lately we seem to have been on BMWs that were a little daunting size-wise, and to snuggle down into that plush seat and have both feet touching the ground, the bike between our knees feeling very slender indeed, and even the ’bars maybe a whisker narrower than we’re used to, felt great.
Not as great as the way the engine felt when it sling-shotted us away from the mark as we let loose the clutch, though. Damn! The 700 has a distinctly lively demeanour that put a smile on our dials the instant we started riding it. And we admit that led to some undeniably irresponsible behaviour on mountain roads. The 700 feels narrow and the low seat height encourages the rider to tuck down on the…um…air-filter case we guess it is these days, and stick it into corners late and at speed. Braking is superb for strength and feel at both ends, and no doubt the Michelin Anarkee 3s played their part. The bike responded well to an aggressive approach on the road, and the further we cranked it over the more it showed how willing it was to be treated that way. To us the gearing and motor seemed ideally matched, and the response to the throttle was sharp without being intimidating.
We fiddled with the ESA, but honestly couldn’t pick big differences. We chose ‘sport’ on the road and tried the ‘comfort’ and ‘normal’ settings at different times, but we probably weren’t working the bike hard enough to appreciate the changes, u
Main: The F 700 GS is a light, compact alternative to the bigger BMWs, and that can be a big plus for adventure riders. It’s a stinger on a winding road! Top right: A headlight protector is a must on these bikes. The cost of a replacement light is scary. Bottom right: The left-hand switchblock had control of the electronics, as usual.
off-road TesT
especially without a pillion or luggage. It didn’t matter which setting we chose, the suspension worked well.
We enjoyed the 700 on the road very much.
A dry old argument
Of course, when the time came to leave the pavement behind we were prepared to make all kinds of compromises. The Anarkees are obviously not a full ‘dirt’ tyre, and that sharp power delivery could even possibly be a disadvantage when traction wasn’t so great.
All that is undoubtedly true, but as we left the tarmac it was raining very gently, and conditions could scarcely have been less in the 700’s favour. It was open dirt road, not enduro trails, but it was potentially dicey enough, and the Beemer carved it up. As the dirt dried out the bike just wanted to be ridden harder.
Imagine our bliss when we found the ABS on this bike every bit as good as the other big bikes in the BMW range. The front will cop some very aggressive use and still return good feel to the rider without there being any chance of dumping him on his head or losing control. The rear ABS kicked in far more easily, probably because the front allowed so much stopping power that the rear was probably unweighted.
Matched to the ABS was a really sensational traction control. It was so unobtrusive we had to stop in some gravel and spin up the rear wheel to be sure it was working. It was, and it’s almost ‘delicate’. If you have the time to look down the light flashes on the instruments to show it’s doing its thing, but except in an extreme situation, a rider will never know it’s there. Brilliant.
Accessorise
Here’s where we have to ’fess up.
Everything we’ve said about the F700GS is as we found it, and if you rode the same bike, how you’d find it. The thing is, our test bike had a few options added, including the ‘traction package’. That meant we had electronic suspension adjustment, tyre-pressure monitoring and automatic stability control, adding $985. We also had the comfort seat, which is another $190. Those things contributed to our enjoyment of the bike, for sure, but the essentials – great motor, good suspension, a slim, light feel and a beautiful finish – will apply to
any F700GS, and at a skinny $12,890 plus on-roads for the stocker, most buyers will be able to squeeze those accessories into their budget and will still get change from $15,000.
Standard fittings like the centrestand, ABS, pannier racks and heated grips underline the great value of the base model.
Above: Our test bike had ESA, and of course, ABS is standard on the BMWs now. The gauges were a pleasure to read, and the information was sensible and not overwhelming.
Bottom left: We felt as though the 700 still had the look of a BMW, but in a strange way we can’t define, it’s kind of slinky and slim.
Top left: Neat!
Shorty
It’s tempting to say the 700 will suit shorter riders and, of course, the girls, they generally being shorter than the average, muscle-bound Aussie Adonis. That’s definitely true, but it’d be ridiculous to generalise this bike as ‘a short person’s alternative to the 800’. It’s a huge pleasure to ride in its own right. The 800, especially the GSA, is a more hard-core adventure bike, but we bet the F 700 GS will do everything the 800s will do, and be a whole lot lighter and slinkier doing it. For those who want a dualsporter that’s a little more road-oriented, a little shorter and a little lighter than the 800s, but still want the grin-giving performance of that sensational motor, give the F 700 GS a look. You might be surprised at what you see.
Bmw f 700 Gs
Web: www.bmwmotorrad.com.au.
Rec retail (base model): $12,890 plus ORC (includes two-year warranty and BMW Roadside Assistance)
Engine type: Water-cooled, four-stroke, in-line, twin with two overhead camshafts, four valves per cylinder and dry-sump lubrication
Displacement: 798cc
Bore/stroke: 82mm x 75.6mm
Compression ratio: 12.0:1
Rated output: 55kW (75hp) at 7300rpm
BIK
e spe C s
Maximum torque: 77Nm at 5300rpm
Mixture control/engine management:
Electronic intake pipe injection, digital engine management (BMS-K+)
Emission control: Closed-loop three-way catalytic converter, emission standard EU-3
Clutch: Multiple-disc clutch in oil bath, mechanically operated
Gearbox: Constant-mesh, six-speed gearbox integrated into crankcase
Drive: Endless O-ring chain with shock damping in rear-wheel hub
Frame: Tubular-steel space frame
Front wheel location/suspension: Telescopic 41mm fork
Rear wheel location/suspension: Cast aluminium dual swingarm, central-spring strut, spring pre-load hydraulically adjustable (continuously variable) at handwheel, rebound damping adjustable
Suspension travel front/rear: 170mm/170mm
Rim front: 2.50-19 MTH2 cast aluminium
Rim rear: 3.50-17 MTH2 cast aluminium
Starter: Electric
Fuel tank capacity: 16 litres
Transmission: Constant mesh five-speed gearbox integrated into crankcase
Brakes front: Dual 300mm disc with double-piston floating caliper and ABS
Brakes rear: Single 265mm disc, with single-piston floating caliper and ABS
Unladen weight, road ready, fully fuelled: 209kg
shop bike
dirt Time to hit the
After so much trouble-free riding the editor’s ready to take the KLR anywhere and everywhere.
After a shaky start the office KLR hit the ground running – running as smooth as silk.
When we last left the KLR it’d pooped itself and left the publisher with a 65km tow through the rain (smirk). Some poking and dismantling turned up a fuel tap with all its rubbers shot and a carby clogged up with so much crap the float was stuck in the fully elevated position.
Replacing the petcock and cleaning the carby still didn’t have the KLR running though, so it was off to the local bike shop where the guys spent four hours trying to find the problem. It wasn’t until one of the techs hit the starter while he was holding on to the ’bars that the shorting ignition
wire made itself known. Apparently it felt as though someone had jabbed a cattle prod up the sleeve of his overalls and pulled the trigger.
Closer inspection revealed where the offending hotwire had been rubbing on the steering head. It wasn’t rubbing there all the time, so the bike would run for a while until the right set of circumstances fell into line, and then it would stop for a while again.
Anyhoo, insulation in the form of some good, chunky fuel line cured the problem and the Kwaka was back on twacka, ready to take on the world…everyone hoped.
The APC Rally
The bike was originally slated to do the APC Rally with the publisher on board, but he changed his mind at the last minute. While some unkind people (the editor) might’ve been making suggestions that the KLR’s
Below left: Dismantling and reassembling the footpeg mount is a job for an engineering professional.
Below: The bike’s handled all kinds of conditions with different riders covering everything from creek crossings to the Hume Highway. No problems.
Above: The ’peg is too close to the wider, taller IMS ’peg.
breakdown on the Triumph shoot dampened the boss’ enthusiasm for the KLR, his swapping bikes probably had a lot more to do with the arrival of a brand-spanking-new 1190 Adventure R.
And trust us, there was some spanking going on when that bike arrived.
That left the KLR free, so the editor leapt on board and roosted off behind the pack from Wiseman’s Ferry in NSW on the first day of the APC Rally.
Screen time
It was the editor’s first ride on the KLR, and he was a little tentative after the initial DNF. The publisher told him to stop being a sook – as he gave the
Above: A little very gentle bending of the lever to gain a couple of millimetres height, and the whole footpeg bracket has been moved back about 15mm. The difference isn’t easy to see, but it’s huge for the rider.
1190 one last touch of the polish cloth – and to ‘get into it’.
In a longish day that covered 600km of terrain that might well have been chosen to suit the KLR, the bike was faultless. The motor was willing and strong, and the smooth, easy riding made the day a complete joy. Almost.
The new IMS footpegs didn’t leave enough room to be able to change gear comfortably, so the editor changed back to the stockers, and for off-road riding they’re… um…not terrific. They’re too narrow, and if there’s the slightest hint of any moisture around they’re as slippery as a politician at an ICAC hearing.
The only fall on the ride was due to one foot slipping off the ’peg at a very critical moment. The 15/43 gearing is possibly a little tall for off-road work, too. On the freeway run from Canberra back to Wiseman’s Ferry it was brilliant, but in any kind of tight going the step from first to second is too large, and too often the only choice was between thrashing the motor in first or lugging the arse off it and slipping the clutch in second. Slightly lower gearing would tighten up the steps between the gears and make it easier to keep that awesome, smooth little motor churning out the drive in its sweet spot. We figure we’ll try one tooth smaller on the front sprocket and let you u
Keeping up with the neighbours.
know how that goes. That might be a little too low, but it’s as good a place to start as any.
They were minor considerations, really. The bike was pretty much ready to take on the adventure world.
One mod that was a huge winner was the taller screen from www.bajaworx.com. It’s a tough bugger and offers great protection from windblast and driving rain.
Tough run
A few weeks later the KLR did camera bike duties again, chasing the guys on the DualSport Australia run you can read about in issue #06.
Kicking off on Monday, the Kawasaki had to trail along behind a gaggle of R1200GSs, the boss’ 1190 and the New Edition KLR650.
By the time this ride started an engineer mate who felt sorry for us had moved the footpeg mounts – not the ’pegs, the mounts themselves – back about 15mm. It made a huge difference, and the IMS ’pegs were suddenly comfortable and secure. It’s not a job for slappers, though. The mounts had to be cut into their component parts with an angle grinder, then reassembled with a welder. There was some accurate measurement of angles and placement to be done, as well as some remarkable ‘eyeing in’.
In any case, the frigging BMWs went like
scalded cats, and the new KLR went with them, so there wasn’t a lot of choice for the editor. He needed the pics, so he had to give chase. For three days the Shop Bike held its own and did it very comfortably.
In case you’re wondering, on the fourth day the editor went all soft and dribbled along at sightseeing pace. He reckoned he wanted to enjoy the views and the incredible scenery – even though he lives there and rides that country all the time. Whatever.
All good
The KLR copped a lot of dust chasing the other riders on that ride, and when the air filter came out back at AdvRider Mag headquarters it was as solid as a bar of soap. We were stunned at how inside the filter
Do you have a second-hand deal that’s better than our KLR? Maybe you’ve got the worst second-hand purchase of all time? Or maybe the barn find that was the bike of your dreams? Send us some info and pics. We’d love to hear about it! Email to tom@advridermag.com.au
was absolutely pristine. There wasn’t a single speck of dust. Under that kind of abuse and pressure, we were very, very impressed. It’s good to know we can count on that filter system under very tough conditions.
The motor feels brilliant. It’s not hugely powerful, but it’s super smooth and has plenty of horsepower for all we’ll ask of it. With an aftermarket pipe and some suspension attention this bike could be about to turn some heads. The next stop for the bike will be Teknik Motorsport. We’ll ask Nick Dole to run his expert eye over the forks and shock.
So as we go to print the office KLR is one hot-shit, snake-bit, tough-as-grit adventure bike, and we’ll back it to go anywhere and do anything. It could well be the deal of the century.
A high point of the ride…the KLR that is. The view was good, too.
Cool!
I have a DREAM
This girl is riding around the world on an 1190 and taking two years to do it. Along the way she’s encouraging people, especially children, to ‘follow their dreams’. On a sunny morning, Anna Grechishkina shared her dream with Adventure Rider Magazine.
Kicking off on July 27, 2013, Ukrainian Anna Grechishkina, 35, graduate of the Kiev State Linguistic University and International Institute Of Business, set off on a two-year round-world trip called ‘I Have A Dream’. Anna will cross over 50 countries and all continents except Antarctica. Her aim is to complete the lap by 2015 in Ukraine’s summer.
Despite undeniable glamorous looks, an accent guaranteed to reduce males around the world to simpering fools and what appears to be a busy media schedule, Anna insists there’s nothing special about her. A 125 Kawasaki unearthed her love of riding in 2005. When that bike was stolen she moved to a 900 VN Classic and managed to make her way around Europe, Asia, Syria, Jordan, Lebanon, and, on a rented bike, India.
“Always you have only two weeks or one month,” said Anna, vastly overestimating the leisure time allowed to down-at-the-heel magazine editors.
“You always have to rush to come back to your job. I was so sick and tired of that.
“When I came back from India I thought, ‘Why not to go around the world?’”
Making it happen
With that goal in mind Anna quit her job and began 15 months of preparation.
As part of her love of riding, Anna had kicked off a charity where riders would visit orphanages, hospitals, old-folks’ homes – places where people could use a little hope and cheering up – and run activities or events .
“We wanted to show these people there was someone who cared for them,” Anna explained. “Not only for the Easter holidays or the Christmas holidays, but very regularly.”
The feedback from the program was strong, especially from children, and after a while Anna began to receive calls for advice and recommendations from the people she’d visited. That started the thought that perhaps it was something she could do in other parts of the world, not just Ukraine.
“When I started this trip I wanted to do something similar,” said the KTM rider. “I wanted to visit kids and youth around the world and somehow motivate them, and to tell them that if they have their dreams, there is nothing that can stop them.
“I’m just an ordinary person. I’m not super rich and I’m not a superstar. I just had this idea, this dream, to go around the world. No matter how difficult it was, I managed at least to start. I don’t know if I’ll complete it, but I really hope that I will do it.”
In every country she visits, Anna tries to visit orphanages and other social-help centres, as well as schools and universities, to show how ordinary people like herself and the people she’s speaking to can make their dreams into realities.
Book end
So far Anna’s ride has taken her from Kiev to Moscow and across Russia to Vladivostok. From Vladivostok the KTM was shipped to Bangkok and ridden through Thailand, Malaysia and Singapore. In Singapore the bike was thrown on another ship to Perth and ridden across to Brisbane, and Anna was on her way to Sydney when she took time to chat with us. From Sydney the bike will be sent to the US, where the plan is to ride the USA, Mexico, Central America, South America, Chile, Peru, Argentina and Brazil. Then it’s over to South Africa, Egypt and back to Europe, probably starting with Turkey and heading back to end up in Kiev in July, 2015.
Anna has no certain plans for her future once the I Have A Dream ride is over. She’s hoping to write a book of her travels and translate it into several different languages, and – another of her dreams – to travel the world telling people of her riding experiences.
Having met Anna, we’re ready to bet those dreams are almost certain to be realities.
dream within a dream
Anna’s a girl who’s never short of ideas, and her latest, One Million Dreams, involves people sending her their photos.
“The idea is to collect the photos of dreams from other people from all around the world,” explained Anna. “From these photos we’ll make an art installation, a big, big image, which will be comprised of all these photos. It will be the image of a dream.
“After a while, after I have enough photos, I will encourage businesses and ordinary individuals to donate me one dollar for one photo, and as many dollars as I will collect, they will all go for charity initiatives around the world.”
To keep up with Anna, her ride and her incredible charity ideas – you’ll need to be fast on your feet to hold this girl’s pace – log on to http://www.ihaveadreamrtw.com. That’ll tell you a whole lot more about Anna, the ride, One Million Dreams and take you to the Facebook page – Female World Trip On Motorcycle – as well.
Rider protection and comfort is every bit as important as bike protection.
Preparing for adventure
In this issue we delve into protection – for both you and your bike.
Naturally your bike will come with standard features to help protect it during use, but as adventure riding sees the bike put in a wide range of conditions, it’s often worth up-speccing.
As we’ve said before, location and speed has a big impact on how much you need to improve the protective features of the bike. Generally speaking, you’ll either be on established roads or on tracks and trails. By ‘established roads’ we mean where your bike’s ground clearance isn’t a consideration, and where impact from debris on the road surface into the bike’s sump isn’t an issue.
By ‘tracks and trails’ we mean extreme conditions, and where the chances of falling and the bike hitting the ground are
a possibility. Rough, rocky surfaces where you need extra ground clearance for dry gullies, river crossings, eroded or washed-out tracks are what we mean.
The Suzuki V-Strom is a good example of an adventure bike with limited ground clearance, while the KTM 990 has plenty.
The bike
So let’s look at the key areas to consider. First up is bashplates.
Many adventure bikes come with light bashplates not always capable of supporting the full weight of the bike in the event of a case out – when the weight of the bike sits on the crankcase. Most original bashplates
A good quality bashplate should probably be the first consideration for all adventure riders.
The V-strom is a bike with relatively low ground clearance and some vital parts exposed. It needs serious protection.
won’t cope with this.
Consider how far the bashplate comes up the side of the engine. If riding in narrow and rocky terrain, the front and lower sides of the engine can be damaged, including oil filter housings, clutch covers and alternator covers. Side protection of your engine is critical in rough conditions. How the bashplate mounts is also important. Do the mounts distribute the load? And are they capable of taking the whole weight of the bike? On BMW’s 1200 models, where the sumpguard is supported completely on the sump not on the frame rails, a heavy impact can crack the mounts, and a large impact-distribution pad was developed to distribute the load more evenly across the bike.
there’s an advantage in having fairing crash bars on tracks and trails, because side-impact damage to the radiator could easily end your ride.
Handguards with an aluminium or metal spine offer the best protection.
Handguards
Handguards are not only there to protect your hands. They’re also there to protect your levers in a fall. Breaking a lever not only makes it difficult to ride, but worse, you can damage your clutch or brake master cylinder, and they’re expensive.
robin Box
Mesh headlight guards look good, but they tend to allow a little less light through than clear-plastic guards. Headlight guards should have a quick-release mechanism for easy cleaning.
Of all add-ons for your bike, this is possibly the most important, as a heavy impact could easily result in a major and expensive engine repair.
Crash bars
Engine and fairing crash bars are sometimes one and the same. In most situations, when a bike falls they’ll contact the ground first and can cope with the weight of the bike skidding along. However, you need to make sure they’re robust enough to take the weight. Fairing crash bars protect the upper fairing, so if you fall off on the tar, your fairing usually won’t contact the road because the end of the handlebar will hit the ground first. On tracks and trails however, the uneven surface means you may need both, so they’re highly recommended. Engine crash bars will generally suffice on established roads, but
Engine and fairing crash bars are great insurance on any bike.
Handguards with an aluminium or metal spine, like Barkbusters, are certainly more effective than plain plastic. You can purchase heavy-duty plastic guards, but they generally aren’t as robust.
Radiator and oil-cooler guards
Radiator and oil-cooler guards are important for just about any type of adventure riding, keeping stones, sticks and other foreign objects from causing major damage. Most of the damage to a radiator on an adventure ride will come from stones thrown up by other vehicles passing – similar to in your car when another vehicle passes and showers your windscreen with stones.
Stones pierce the cooling tubes between the fins, creating slow leaks you may not pick up, and could result in your water and oil draining out without your knowledge.
roads by the time night is approaching. Most headlight protectors come with a quick-release system for removing and cleaning.
We often fit additional lights and protecting these is important, too. With the advent of Xenon and LED auxiliary lights, there are some great after-market options, and brands like Clearwater offer a high-quality range.
Case saver/ pinion guard
Some bikes will need unique protection in specific areas. This oil-filter guard on the Triumph Tiger is an example.
Headlight protector and additional lighting
Headlight protectors are made from either clear plastic or mesh. The mesh protectors have a nice adventure look and offer good protection, but they reduce the amount of illumination your headlight offers. The clear, plastic protectors give a better view at night, but, to avoid wildlife, you’re usually off the
While it won’t be the first thing on your list to buy, a case saver (or pinion guard) is useful in the event of a chain breaking. The case saver helps stop the chain grabbing, looping up on itself and cracking the case. Aftermarket manufacturers such as Force Accessories and B&B Offroad are a good place to start looking.
Model-specific protection
Some bikes require additional protection in some areas, while other bikes may not. Items to consider are:
R Exhaust guards
R Critical electronic componentry (such as the potentiometer cover on a GS1200)
R Fluid reservoir guards
R Frame protectors
R Footstand extender – this will stop your sidestand from sinking into soft surfaces
R Spring-loaded gear and brake levers, and
R Heavy-duty chain guards
u
protection and comfort
Now you’ve taken care of the bike, don’t forget about the most important part of your adventure ride – you! Without protecting yourself, your ride may be compromised, and all the fun will be lost. Here’s a few things to think about.
Handguards
Full handguards with extensions will give additional knuckle (impact) and wind (environment) protection. For a small cost, it can save a lot of pain and suffering.
Windscreen
Some single-cylinder bikes, like Suzuki’s DR650, don’t come with any form of windscreen. But even a small screen will make a big difference to your riding comfort and protection. From our experience a windscreen is just about a necessity in most circumstances. MRA produces a great universal after-market screen compatible with all models. We’ve used the MRA Roadshield RO on a DR650, KTM 950SE and Husky Terra, and they’re easy to mount and offer great adjustability via balljoint adjusters (part number KBA379960 from Bolton Motorcycles).
Steering damper
The addition of a steering damper is a safety consideration.
On some bikes it makes a much bigger difference than on others, but when you’re riding in loose conditions, it makes the bike so much safer. Steering dampers are the most use at speeds above 60kph, and every bike will benefit from fitting one. The DR650 is a bike they’re not commonly fitted to and they are quite stable without it, while the KTM 950SE really benefits from it – in fact it can be almost dangerous to ride without one.
The BMW 1200s and KTM 1190s now come standard with steering dampers.
Heated grips
There’s a reasonable argument to say this is a safety consideration if you’re going to be doing long days and extended travel. If your hands get cold, they won’t get warm again on a bike, and then your reflexes and response times can suffer as a result.
We’ve fitted this MRA screen to several different bikes, and it’s been a winner.
Many of the Dakar riders use heated handgrips for this reason, and while your mates may consider you soft, believe me when I say there’ll be occasions you’ll be glad you made the investment.
It’s when conditions are tough that protection and comfort become most important.
Handlebar risers
In most cases there are benefits in having handlebar risers. In particular, if you’re doing a lot of standing when riding, or if you are a taller rider. This will give you a good triangulation when you stand so you’re more comfortable and don’t get tired as easily. Think of it like orthotics in your shoes – it may not seem like much, but it can make all the difference.
Handlebar risers are great for tall riders, and for those who spend a lot of time standing on the ’pegs.
Seats
A comfortable seat to suit the riding conditions can be worth its weight in gold. In adventure riding there’s usually a lot of time sitting down, so you need something comfortable.
Your seat requirements will depend on your riding style and your height, but an AirHawk seat pad, or even a piece of sheepskin on
your standard seat, can make a huge difference to comfort.
There are plenty of aftermarket seats available from companies like Touratech, Custom Seats, and Comfort Seats, and ideally, your seat should be slightly concave, or scalloped, where the main weight of your body rests.
Adventure footpegs
If you’re riding on narrow, standard footpegs in a standing position, no matter what boots you have, the pressure point is
Below: Footpegs don’t need to be super high-tech, just wider than most stockers. The wider ’pegs disperse the weight over a bigger area, and that means greater rider comfort.
Wider ’pegs allow far more comfortable riding, especially for those who like to stand.
very small and you’ll get sore feet.
Adventure ’pegs, like Pivot Pegz and Touratech, are a lot wider than standard and give a more comfortable riding position, distributing the load more evenly when both standing and sitting.
If you do retain the standard ’pegs, make sure you pull the rubber inserts out in the wet. They’ll be dangerously slippery otherwise.
Other conveniences
There are also products that aren’t necessarily protective, but will sure add to your comfort.
We’ve covered tank bags in an earlier story, and we’ll look at GPS and mobile-phone mounts in a future issue, but here’s a couple of others to consider.
Power sockets
In the mobile age we can never have enough power sockets. Charging phones, GPS units or even camera batteries is a real factor now, and you need to ensure you have all your devices covered. These power sockets can come in the form of USB, Powerlet or the 12-volt cigarette lighter, and there’s now a good range of adapters on the market that can be fitted to your tank bag to give you a number of outlet options inside the bag. Look at companies like AdventureMoto.
Chain lubricators
Chain lubricators – or chain oilers – are a lot more reliable than they were in the past and will help to prolong the life of your chain. Scott seems to be the most popular brand.
Until next time
That’s all for this issue. We’ve been distracted writing when we should be out riding, so we’re off to do some adventuring. With the weather warming up in the south of the country, you should follow our lead!
John hudson
Two up advx gets a tune-up
ADVX is going off. Entry numbers are huge, and after a look at some alternatives, there’s now a separate route for big bikes.
R There’s one group helping a mate who’s doing it tough with cancer. Is that last one safe?
Sure, I ask the questions an organiser should when it comes to safety, but if a crew of mates say they’ll carry a rider if they have to, well, that’s good enough for me. Riding bikes has always been about looking after your riding buddies and sticking together to the end.
Words of wisdom
Here’s the hot tip for any rider on ADVX: your plan should never depend on arriving anywhere at a certain time or depend on anyone carrying gear you need to survive.
To make the event as good as it can be we are offering alternative routes to some of the harder sandy sections. That will mean riders on the big bikes, like the BMWs, Triumphs, Yamahas and KTMs, can still participate and have the option to take whichever route they would prefer.
We’ve tried to design the course so a group of mates who would normally want to camp together would still be able to 90 per cent of the time, even if they split up to do the different routes.
There’s a few great things we’re seeing R 30 riders are saying they’re buying a bike specifically for this ride
R Mates who haven’t seen each other for 20 years are getting together for ADVX, and
You should always carry enough food and water for three days. A bike needs to have about a 600km open-road range, which equals about 500km of more technical riding. If you find a pub or a bed anywhere it will seem like Christmas. You’ll be following a GPS line and every 300km to 500km a small town or farm will turn up with fuel, water and maybe a Chicko roll.
I have some guys who are doing the big-bike course and they want mates to follow in four-wheel drives carrying beer and food. All I can say is that’s all cool, but I’d be buggered if I’d depend on them turning up. Anything could happen to those vehicles as well.
Tough going
There are some who are planning on doing the more technical course, and they’re also asking if mates can follow in
John hudson
four-wheel drives. I’d want to know what experience the driver has and that the vehicle is really well set up for what it has to take on. The Gunbarrel is a vehicledestroying beast. People need to understand they’ll need a minimum of two spare tyres, and all tyres must be in very good condition and well-suited to the conditions. Also, the vehicles will be badly scratched up if they don’t have protection on them. The dashboards on most modern cars will have permanent rattles after the 15cm corrugations that go on for what seems like forever.
As long as your mates are right with this then having them try and follow is okay, but they should also understand they’ll have to drive some massive days and nights to keep up with the bikes on these tracks. So they’ll need great lights, good UHF comms, and they’ll need to get a SPOT tracker because we need to keep them safe as well. All vehicles must have room to pick up an injured rider, and they must agree to get them out of the section and to safety. They don’t need room for a bike, just a rider. We want to handle extractions for small injuries with our own vehicles on the course.
A true adventure
I’m not just talking it up to make the ride seem more exciting and adventurous. Even when everything goes right this crossing needs to be taken seriously, and over this kind of distance and with this huge variation in terrain, it’s unlikely everything will go to plan for anyone. We want everyone to get across there safe and happy, but it won’t be an easy ride for anyone. That’s part of the challenge, and we just want to make sure you all realise it.
But when it’s done, and you’re standing at the lighthouse, you’ll know you’ve conquered one of the world’s greatest adventure-riding challenges.
The dark side
Well, what I thought was a bit of insider knowledge turned out to be more publicised than any CIA/Wikileaks saga. I assumed that when John Hudson invited me along to a little behind-thescenes adventure, I’d have to come in disguise and sign a secrecy pledge. How wrong can one be?
What I’m talking about of course is the pre-ride for the now well-publicised ADVX ride next year. It’s to be just a little jaunt directly across this magnificent nation of ours – 7500km or so taking in three deserts, the infamous Gunbarrel Highway, Uluru, and a look in at the Finke Desert race on the way.
The only certainty about pre-rides is that unknowns will crop up.
ADVX
Ken Dark gets a tough run on the ADVX survey ride.
True grit
We were just out of Perth on the first day when we were confronted by a ‘WRONG WAY. GO BACK’ sign.
We should’ve heeded the warning.
John was leading and as each rider came through the track cut up more and more. I got stuck on a hidden tree root and had to wait for the sweeps to help me get mobile again. By then the track was a total mess. The sand was deep, soft and ploughed up. Whenever we came across a spot where an earlier rider had binned it – and there were plenty of those – we were presented with a virtual blockage.
Unbogging my bike from the tree root probably started the rot, but it wasn’t long before the urgent red light on the dash insisted I stop and rest to let
things cool down.
By then we were buggered and there were no real objections to a rest. Pooley, the legend, actually rode my bike through the worst sections and walked back to do it all over again on his beast while I gathered my breath. It was the most embarrassed I’ve ever been. I felt like a total loser!
This section of track, planned from John’s lounge chair, will definitely not be included in the event.
The real deal
Luckily we found a power-line track that appeared to be heading in the right direction, so we followed it out. Clean sand made life much easier, and we actually managed to get up on the ’pegs. I only binned it twice over the next couple of kilometres. What a disaster. Sections like this really do your head in. Not just me, but my far more skilled riding companions as well.
This scenario is when you find out if you’ve got what it takes to be a ‘real’ adventure rider.
Plan B
With a ‘casual’ clutch and the sweeps riding shotgun, I headed up the blacktop to our overnight stop at Dongara. The remainder of the crew played in the Lancelin sand dunes and made it in after dark.
Words and images: Ken Dark
Some furious work on my clutch and much bending of plates was to no avail. I recovered from the sand torture, but the bike didn’t, and with tears in my eyes I watched the boys ride off into the distance while I limped back into Dongara. It was Qantas the rest of the way for me. It was a shattering disappointment. But as one adventure finishes another begins. A bit of positive thinking and a whole new escapade was launched. I decided to fly to Alice Springs and join the boys for a Finke experience. From there I could fly home, jump on my 1190 and meet the crew in western Queensland somewhere. It would be better than Phoenix rising from the ashes.
NRMA Top Cover met the cost of freighting my bike back to the east coast as well as subsidising my flights – what a great service.
A near thing
Once on my KTM 1190 Adventure I attempted to meet the boys in Hungerford, Queensland, as they came through. I wimped out and didn’t want to battle the ’roos, so Fords Bridge hotel northwest of Bourke looked pretty good just on dark. After a phone call to the group’s overnight hotel at Hungerford, I discovered the team had hightailed it out of there as rain was predicted. No one wants to be on the clay plains with rain.
At about five o’clock the next morning I heard sprinkles of rain on the roof. I had about 40km of black soil to negotiate before the closest bitumen, so I think I was dressed before my feet hit the floor. Bugger the ’roos. It was on with the headlight and go!
Nature was kind and I made it off the slippery stuff just before the rain commenced in earnest.
Just do it
I teamed up with the boys at Hebel, just over the Queensland border, and posed with them in front of the Byron Bay lighthouse after their epic trip.
Quite coincidentally, I’d organised an east-west crossing in four-wheel drives with some mates and we left shortly after the ADVX pre-ride, so I managed to get my nation-crossing jollies anyway. And I can still comment on the route, even though I did it pussy-style in a fourwheel drive.
If you ride the upcoming ADVX event you’ll experience an extensive range of conditions and scenery. Without a doubt The Simpson will be the toughest challenge. Everything else is measured against the Simpson standard. The Finke Gorge area is absolutely awe-inspiring in its rugged beauty, and the Gunbarrel should be on every traveller’s list – but read up on Len Beadell first. The back roads and station tracks John tosses in are sights you may never see on a usual ride.
If you can manage a camp at Steep Point, I’d be amazed if you were disappointed. Adventure on.
Top left: Hmm…that doesn’t look too promising.
Left: The boys welcomed Darky back at Hebel pub.
Top right: Not much difficulty with navigation on The Gunbarrel. Middle right: Pretty much everything can be compared to The Simpson. Bottom right: There’s a huge variety of terrain on the ADVX route.
Congratulations Scott Britnell
Cape Byron, NSW to Steep Point, WA in 72 hours and 10 minutes.
The double crossing in 173 hours and 50 minutes. Un-freaking-believable.
Last issue had a rundown on
Scott Britnell’s KTM 690 RFR.
The bike was built to set a target time for the run from the Australian mainland’s eastern-most point, Cape Byron, to the mainland’s western-most point, Steep Point, WA. The previous bestrecorded time was just over 90 hours.
Scott wanted to not only do better, he wanted to do it unsupported. He did his preparation and research, some tough self-assessment, then made the attempt. His time for the east-west crossing was mind-boggling: 72 hours and 10 minutes.
But Scott didn’t stop there. He turned around and rode back again, making the double crossing in 173 hours and 50 minutes.
It doesn’t seem possible, but it’s been done, and Adventure Rider Magazine wanted to offer a huge, “Congratulations!” to Scott and the people who helped and supported him.
Limits untested
AdvRider Mag was at Cape Byron to see Scott finish the journey, and as he was mobbed by his family, friends, supporters and spectators, we left him to enjoy the moment. Later that evening he sent us a few thoughts in an email. We’ll have a full interview next issue, but straight after climbing off the bike, here’s a few points he shared:
“This venture was always intended to be less about breaking a standing record and more about throwing myself into a challenge designed to test my physical and mental boundaries. Having now read many blog comments, people may be amazed that I didn’t come close to finding those limits. I guess that means it’s back to the drawing board,” he wrote.
Facts and figures
Here’s some raw data that hints at what an almighty achievement this is.
runnInG TImes:
v Day 1: 19 hours, 1830km.
Byron Bay to Birdsville v Day 2: 18 hours, 1200km.
Birdsville to Uluru v Day 3: 24 hours, 2330km.
Ayers Rock to Steep Point v Day 4: 1200km.
Steep Point to Leinster v Day 5: 1450km.
Leinster to Ayers Rock v Day 6: 18 hours, 1200km.
Ayers Rock to Birdsville v Day 7: 15 hours, 1300km.
Birdsville to Goondiwindi v Day 8: Five hours.
Goondiwindi to Cape Byron
Coast to Coast
in 72 h 10 min, then back across in 173 h 50 min!
The record of 72 hours and 10 minutes for a distance of approximately 5400km was achieved on seven hours and 30 minutes sleep, and at a total average speed of 75km.
Thoughts
Scott had a couple of observations to share…
“You know you are deep in true adventure when you are paying $3 a litre for fuel,” and, “So remote is much of WA that in 24 hours and 2330km I passed six cars, one truck, two camels and a handful of ’roos.”
Preparation
“In the five months leading up to the ride I had a total of five days of dedicated riding/ tyre testing,” wrote Scott. “Having done very little riding in the past 10 years I was reliant on the well-honed skills gained messing about as a teenager.
“I spent so much time planning this ride. I knew it was solid, and if I had the stamina, and could hold it together to the end, that it was all achievable in 72 to 75 hours.”
What’s next
Scott has more challenges in mind, and now he’s already talking about a northsouth run through the heart of WA. He’s also asking about Dakar.
Find out more next issue.
Meanwhile, well done, Scott. You’re a dead-set champion.
Words:
Miles Davis
adventure-riding tips Vision
It may seem way too simple, but looking ahead is one of the most important, but overlooked, skills a rider can have. If you’ve ever done any advanced rider training you’ll have already been told that vision makes a massive difference to the end result.
So there was this section of moderately rough track, with a deep rut, a few rocks and one short sandy section across most of the track. A few riders flowed through as if they were on a magic carpet and the others either struggled or binned it. Chances are the riders who made it seem easy were looking a long way in front so they could pick sweet lines. On the other hand, the battlers were probably looking just in front of their wheel, hitting all the dodgy stuff, barely in control and sweating bullets.
Increased processing power
If you’re cruising along and only looking a few metres in front, the ground spins past like a blur. It feels fast and your brain is struggling to process what your eyes are seeing. At the same speed on the same track, but looking further ahead, the ground is moving steadily. You can pick up detail and obstacles, your brain isn’t stressed and everything seems peachy keen. It’s so easy it’s almost like cheating.
Balance like a gymnast
As mentioned in previous columns, a balanced bike is a happy bike. It’s a light-feeling bike too. You see it with many sports, but especially gymnastics: looking ahead optimises balance. Look down and you lose perspective and get the wobbles. Look ahead to the horizon and balance comes back. It’s as simple as that.
If you want to make your bike feel light, practice slow-speed figure eights, first with your vision up, and then focused on the ground in front of your wheel. Then translate that into your on-trail technique.
Look where you want to go, not at what you want to miss
Fixating on a target is an easy trap to fall into. You’ll see a big, slick section in the middle of the track, get stressed, look at it again and guess what, you hit it. The idea is to learn how to spot the obstacles early, then look for the optimum line around it and focus on that. More often than not you’ll automatically glide towards the sweet line.
For some it might come naturally, for others it might take some training, but either way it makes life much easier.
Get creative
As mentioned in the intro, being in a position to spot obstacles and pick sweet lines is a plus. The next step from that is learning how to use creative lines to your advantage. We’ve all seen it when someone has picked the worst line and made a meal of it. Other
times you might be shocked to see someone go where you would never have considered, missed the dodgy stuff and made it look simple. Picking creative lines usually comes with experience; if you’re riding with very skilled riders take note of where they position the bike, right to the millimetre. While you’re at it, check out their body position and listen to their throttle control.
Chances are you will accelerate your own improvement.
Waterproof Cape Horn boot from Forma
Waterproof Adventure boot from Forma
DEBRA
feeling buzzed for a cause
The EB Cross Country Adventure Ride of 2014 had riders visiting communities on adventurous routes through northern NSW helping to raise funds and awareness for a very good cause. Kelli Church went along to help and learn.
I’d never heard of ‘EB’ – Epidermolysis Bullosa –until a friend, John, told me about the incurable, skin-blistering condition that leads to a life of pain and disability. Those with EB are called ‘butterfly children’ because their skin is as fragile as butterflies’ wings.
John went on to tell of a charity adventure ride that provided a way to help raise funds, meet people, learn more about the condition and have fun at the same time. We met a group of 13 riders and six support guys and girls at the Dorrigo Hotel in the hills above Coffs Harbour, NSW. These guys had started the ride and were all filthydirty, tired and hungry, but filled with an infectious excitement.
Straight away I could tell this was going to be fun.
Inspirational
Our first night started with a few drinks and dinner at Juan’s famous Smallest Motorcycle Museum. What an Argentinian feast we had!
While the smells of pastries, lamb shanks and salmon dishes drifted from the kitchen, the evening was filled with tales of the ride
so far, including the main support vehicle coming off second-best on a fallen tree. A branch went straight through the radiator, leaving the unit heading to Coffs Harbour for repairs.
I also met up with Lindsay Collier – the EB Cross Country official photographer – and the mums from DEBRA, Sue and Simone. These two amazing women both have children afflicted with EB and had taken time off to support the ride. For all they go through in their day-to-day lives, they both maintain a rare strength, sense of humour and a ‘get-onwith-it’ attitude.
That’s a lesson that could be learnt by many.
Dorrigo to Dangar Falls
The bikes ranged from Lachlan Elder’s KTM 300EXC to Matt Dampney’s BMW R 1200 GS,
Main: The creek that drenched all the riders. Smithy and his KTM got a little more drenched than some.
Right: There were semi-clad men wandering around the car park of the Dutton Trout Hatchery trying to dry out their riding gear.
Words: Kelli Church
and just about everything in between.
The first stop was Dangar Falls just out of Dorrigo, and then up through the Muldiva State Forest for a photo at Ebor Falls. The boys rode on and headed for Rob’s Knob Lookout while the support crew drove through the Guy Fawkes National Park. It was some of the most beautiful countryside I’d ever seen, and it was all at our back door, only a few hours from Sydney. I was in awe of ancient-looking trees lining the dirt road, overhung with moss and lichen, and the rainforest walk was like something from Lord Of The Rings. Together with spectacular native fauna it was truly memorable and amazed us all.
One good turn
The support vehicles were to meet up with the bikes for lunch at the Dutton Trout Hatchery about 75km north of Armidale, and most of us were salivating at the thought of the fresh trout for lunch, only to find they’d sold out!
Pillioning behind Rob Turton as we took off at warp speed was my kind of riding!
The boys arrived cold and soaked from a couple of creek crossings, and after shedding their wet gear the carpark at the trout hatchery looked like a Chinese laundry with underdressed fellas walking around. Mmm…what can I say?
From lunch the bikes went through the Styx River State Forest along the fabulous Old Armidale-Kempsey Road, across the Gara River and on to Armidale.
We arrived at the Salisbury Waters campsite way after most of the guys as we’d stayed back waiting for a couple of puncture repairs, and after a well-deserved barbecue we sat around an open fire with soft music (amplified by a saucepan and a trusty kitchen sponge) and shared a few drinks. Stories were told and many laughs were had.
Dangar Falls to Port Macquarie
We were woken up in the wee hours by the clinking of coffee cups, morning fart noises and recoveringafter-one-too-many-lastnight coughs. All this was laughed off and quickly forgotten once Rob Turton told me to “get my riding gear ready”. Yew!
Off we rode on our way to the next destination: Port Macquarie. I was in heaven.
First stop was Thunderbolt’s Grave near Uralla, and the very interesting local museum. Rob was the ultimate historian, telling tales about a farmer who’d built a home near Dangar and had lost his three sons in the war. He planted trees in their memory then kept planting trees on his property for every person who died in that war.
Further on we’d stopped for our turn as cornerman and Oli discovered he’d lost his beloved Leatherman. Fortunately
Image: Kelli Church u
something had been seen flying off his bike a decent way back and a search party roosted off, returning with the Leatherman in place.
No beer
The scenery was divine as we rode on through the hills, cliffs, homesteads and pastures, crossing quiet little streams and rocky waterways. They’re things you don’t seem to feel, smell or get full advantage of when you’re in the confinements of a car. For me this was what riding was all about.
After a much-needed lunch at Bellbrook the boys refuelled and headed back into the wilderness to Taylors Arm and our next stop: The Pub With No Beer.
All I can say is, “Wow!”
That countryside is stunning. Apart from the winding gravel road, working our way
up the mountain among the tall trees and lush forests was incredible! Even if you’re zooming along at a good pace, you still can’t miss the views.
Beaten and eaten
We arrived at Port Macquarie way after dark in the pelting rain. The rain-soaked, sandy track was challenging but seriously lots of fun, up over the whoops and down into the deep puddles.
As the driver was pulling manoeuvres any rally driver would be proud of, we came across a full jerry can that had bounced out of the support vehicle. We stuffed it into the back of the already full-to-the-brim ute and hoped that’s all that had been lost.
The boys loved the track, most of them going through at full throttle with only one
Image: Kelli Church
bike casualty. Anthony, who’d come a gutser on a fallen tree, had torn off his petrol tap. Unable to continue, he and sweep Zach towhitched the bike to the ute. They drove the last five kilometres in the pouring rain through the bog, over the ferry and towards the caravan park with the bike in tow.
We arrived at the camp after dark, desperate to get out of our wet, muddy gear and jump into a hot shower, and we were early to bed and slept like babies.
Port Macquarie to Moonan Flat
Leaving Port Macquarie at about 9:00am, we followed another sweet, winding gravel road until we hit a cool coffee shop in Comboyne called ‘The Udder Cow Café’. Unfortunately one of the guys left his headlight on and flattened a battery, but a quick jumpstart had him running again.
At Ellensborough Falls the welcoming locals had not only catered for us, they also donated to the charity. This was a beautiful little place in the middle of nowhere, and after a farewell and many a thank you we rode on.
It pissed down rain, and fast, wide, corrugated National Parks’ roads wound
Main: The DEBRA crew in Barrington Tops.
Left: Sweep, Zach, had some bad luck. No problem falling off, but to have someone standing around with a camera? That’s tough.
Top right: A good set-up, and after the mistake of the first night, well away from the central social area.
Right: Rob Turton offered to give author Kelli a taste of adventure riding. She’s hooked.
Image: Holmgren Photography
through Barrington Tops. It was sensational scenery with scenic lookouts, and it made for perfect big-bike conditions. Motors were ringing loud with throttle cables stretched.
The trip down the hill out of the Barringtons was one scenic descent overlooking prime pastures and fine cattle country. We rocked up to a tiny refuelling shop and saw our very first Highway Patrol car. I think the boys were lucky he saw them while they were stopped.
Once we’d all showered and spruced up into our semi-clean clothes, we strolled up to the Red Dog Café – or the Moonan Flat Pub as most know it – a groovy little place. The publican had organised a raffle for the EB Charity and it raised about $500. It was a massive effort from such a little town.
Moonan Flat to Cessnock
The next morning someone thought it’d be funny to start up their bike as a 6:00am ‘rooster call’ to rouse those few sore heads. Ah, the serenity!
Slowly, bodies started to emerge and pack up wet tents, refuel, grab brekky and to try and dry dew-soaked clothes (NB: a header pipe is no place for drying or warming gloves. They’ll end up in the bin).
With bikes checked, fuelled and ready, the
boys and the support vehicle took off into the sunrise, heading for Cessnock.
One of the guys, Dave, who’d arrived at Moonan Flat to accompany one of his mates on the final track to the farm, broke his ankle after a heavy fall only 10km from the final destination. That meant having his wife, Mez, taking him off to the hospital for a plate and pins.
We were headed for the end-of-theride ‘Jack and Jilleroo’ shindig at John and
Lyndall’s ranch, generously donated for the EB-fundraiser evening.
Once the guys arrived in what looked like a presidential-style entry up the long, winding driveway, the party kicked on into the night with fantastic donations, wonderful volunteers, special awards, music and some memorable speeches, one by Stevie, a gorgeous EB sufferer, who gave her first public speech very professionally, leaving not a dry eye in the house.
Image: Lindsay Collier
DEBRA Australia
DEBRA (Dystrophic Epidermolysis Bullosa Research Association) Australia is a notfor-profit volunteer- based organisation that doesn’t receive any direct government funding. The objectives of the association are to:
R Educate and support families living with EB
R Investigate and implement programs to help EB
sufferers to improve their care and quality of life
R Offer financial and emotional support and also networking opportunities to families
R Educate health professionals and the general public about EB
R Raise awareness of the disease
R Raise vital money for research to one day find a cure, and
R Maintain DEBRA
International membership to combine resources and networking opportunites
To make a donation and help DEBRA continue its work, please log on to www.debra.org.au.
All over
When I look back I can’t believe how much ground we covered in only those four days.
Having never been involved in this type of adventure ride before, I was a little apprehensive to begin with, but still excited to be involved. I was encouraged to actually ride on the trip by Rob Turton, but I was hesitant. Now, having experienced this, I see the boys ride at a crazy pace but I think there’s a chance for more girls to be involved.
So what made it?
The people I met, the adventure, the passion for bikes shared by all and the chance to raise much-needed funds for, and awareness of, DEBRA Australia. All of us learnt there are more ways to raise funds than we all think.
Thank you DEBRA Australia, Overlanders and all the dedicated officials. It was one memorable ride.
Overlanders Motorcycle Adventures
Rob Turton reckons he’s been riding since bikes had wooden spokes. He started Overlanders Motorcycle Adventures in 1994, and since then has affiliated with Motorcycling Queensland and set up the operation with some serious support vehicles, accredited, reliable crew who are mostly based out of Cooroy on Queensland’s Sunshine Coast. Overlanders Motorcycle Adventures has provided professional support for BMW Motorrad with the TS and GS Safari every year since 1999, and became involved with the EB Cross
Country Adventure Ride a couple of years ago. The Overlanders truck is a weapon with everything an adventure rider needs, and the entire trip wouldn’t have been as successful if it weren’t for the behind the scenes crew Anya, Bryan and Mark carting everyone’s gear, preparing meals and making sure there were smiles on everyone’s faces.
Above: A final photo of the riders together at John and Lyndall’s beautiful vineyard. Below: Rob leading the way.
Image: Kelli Church
Image: Kelli Church
wish you were here nZ. The weT CoasT.
reader’s ride
Words and images: Colin Bayman
Gibb River Road, WA
Three brothers and a mate decided to give adventure riding a try. A damn good try, as it turned out.
Getting older shouldn’t stop you from riding, but you may have to reassess your abilities as throwing enduro bikes around gets harder. With a number of riding buddies from our Crusty Quinns website buying adventure bikes and heading off into the wilderness, I too needed to re-evaluate my riding future. Was it going to be semi-retirement? Or full-on desert racing aboard a heavily laden, fire-breathing dragon?
Getting set
With only a handful of capable dualsport bikes to choose from, the DR650 appeared to be a popular choice for the level of pure dirt-bike enjoyment we had in mind. Not only is the bike cheap to buy, but there are plenty of aftermarket bits available to suit most riders’ needs. I picked up an older 2007 model that had already undergone some pretty good upgrades, and then got to work to build a bike
capable of carrying my fat arse and another 50kg of gear from Perth to Kununurra and back. The best money spent was on suspension, and the bike’s offroad performance couldn’t have been better.
Roley, Peter, Wayno and I headed off for a month to take in as many iconic spots as we could. We had a very loose itinerary and plenty of good ideas, but also remained flexible as the ride progressed. Although I enjoyed the first few days heading out of Perth and into the northwest, it really wasn’t until we hit the top end of the Pilbara I felt the trip had properly begun. I had no idea my arse would get so sore, nor did I realise that Staintune exhaust would cause my ears to ring for so long.
Manning up
After living in West Australia’s Pilbara and Kimberleys for eight years I was more than familiar with my surroundings, but riding a motorcycle through this country was just somehow better. You could feel the hot sun on your back and smell the rotting flesh of everything that lay dead on the side of the road, and this just adds to the overall experience.
There were some heart-stopping moments with all sorts of living things including cows, ’roos, emus, birds, lizards and horses, but we all managed to brake or swerve in time to miss them without incident. I even spotted a large, angry eagle swooping Wayno – who was pushing along in top gear – and other sections of the road where huge numbers of wallabies wanted to play chicken.
The Gibb River Road was the highlight of the trip, however we were all a little disappointed at how it was so well prepared for the grey nomad tourist season. We rode it in May, but I’m told it gets pretty cut up as the season progresses. We wanted off-road action and found a gravel road, even though there were a number of challenges along the way. There are a few good water crossings and plenty
Main: The guys decided to have a crack at adventure riding, and they didn’t cut any corners! u
The Gibb River Road is legendary for adventure riders, but the guys found it groomed for the grey nomad holiday season.
The bikes carried some big loads.
The packing skills left a bit to be desired.
Looking forward to the bunk and the single beds. Not sure about the Indians.
of corners, crests and dips, but we could easily travel at between 90kph and 110kph in most sections. We divided the Gibb River Road into four days to allow plenty of time to explore the gorges and enjoy everything it has to offer, and we weren’t disappointed with some really spectacular spots. Manning Gorge and its waterfalls really blew me away and I plan to visit there again. Camping along the way is spot on and fuel is not a problem as long as you can do around 350 on a tank.
Shared experience
The best of the river crossings was the mighty Pentacost, not too far out of Wyndham. It wasn’t overly deep, but a nice big, wide crossing with a few holes
A dry causeway is a bonus.
crossing the same river just near the entrance to El Questro Station where trees, palms and pandanas lined the rocky crossing and where there was always the fear of a saltwater croc not too far away. Peter and Roley both put their bikes down there but we were quick to right them and get moving as quickly as possible.
Some of my favourite spots along the way were Pardoo Station, Home Valley Station and Hamelin Pool Station. They were all unique, but at the same time very welcoming with great amenities.
The many pics we took along the way tell a better story but they can’t all be shown. The trip ticked many boxes for me, and although I’m not breaking my neck to ride 9000km again, I can’t wait to get out and explore other areas.
My suggestions for this type of ride are
R Pack light. Far lighter than you think
R Don’t take too much food. You can restock every couple of days along the way
R Choose your tyres carefully. I would be far more likely to use dualsport tyres than enduro-style tyres
I can’t say enough about the DRs and I know we made a good choice there. See you on the trail.
Crusty Quinns
To learn more about Colin and his WA mates, log on to www.crustyquinns.com. They have a whole WA community-thing going on, with message boards, upcoming rides, ride reports and a stack of other info.
You’d be smiling too if you had a month to go riding.
Karen ramsay
Playing the field
My bike has been out of action since my inaugural solo ride last issue, and the upside of that was I got to borrow and ride a couple of different bikes. Now, I’m the first to say I have little or no idea about the technical side of motorcycles. Things like suspension, response and brakes. Perhaps it’s just me, or maybe it’s very common among women in general, but I seem to be missing the gene that allows for discerning those important things.
Settling in
With an extended long-weekend ride planned, the first borrowed bike was our son’s 1993 Honda Dominator.
Prior to taking it on this 2800km trip, I’d only taken it for a lap around the shed and one ride to work. I found the steering awkward and the thought of riding it any distance filled me with trepidation. In the Dominator’s favour, it has rather cool 1980s-style graphics plastered across the fuel tank. However, that was the only redeeming feature.
Well…that and the fact that it was actually running – even if it was using a litre of oil every 1000km.
With that in mind, I strapped on a bag, swag and a five-litre fuel container and wobbled out of the driveway. Unfortunately, with me not having the technical language or experience to express or understand what was going on, my husband Dave couldn’t really do anything to help. “It feels funny to steer,” was the best I could manage.
As he and my son Darcy had both ridden it without a problem, I figured it must’ve just been me and I’d have to deal with it.
For the first few hundred kilometres I felt like I should have my L plates back on – and we were still on the tar. Taking it on the dirt for the first time I held my breath and waited for the fall. Funnily enough, when I drew breath, I realised the bike was feeling quite good on the gravel. By the end of the first day, I felt comfortable and confident on the Dom. I know people who have been riding for years, or riders with that ‘natural affinity’ to riding, wouldn’t have had this issue and can easily adjust to whatever bike they jump on. There are others though, like me, who, through lack of experience, nerves or self-preservation instincts, find adjusting to different bikes doesn’t come naturally.
Together we tackled and conquered a couple of my pet fears – sand and bulldust – on that ride through Mt Kaputar, Burren Junction, Lightning Ridge, Coonabarabran, Gulargambone, Macquarie Marshes, Tinonee and dozens of other places. Although it used almost as much oil as fuel, and there was more tape than seat by the end of the ride to patch all the rips in the brittle upholstery every time I lazily dragged
Above left: A DR650 was good fun.
Above right: The Dominator seems to be an acquired taste.
Right: ‘Dave stopped to pray for guidance when all I could offer was, “It feels funny to steer”.
my boots over it, I found I really enjoyed riding the Dominator.
Taking out a loan
Beside Dave’s BMW F800GS, I had my first ride on a Harley, a KLR650 and a DR650.
For a long time Dave and I had planned to have an adventure ride with a group including our son Darcy on the Dominator. Thinking I’d have my bike back, we set a date.
As the date drew closer, I still didn’t have a bike. Then the little oil problem in the Dominator became a big problem and it was out. We exhausted every avenue we could trying to get both, or at least one bike, operational, or maybe borrow a bike. I was feeling a little like Goldilocks: a KTM11990 was too big, a Ninja wasn’t an adventure bike and a CRF230 wasn’t registered.
Just days before the ride, Matt Muir, the local upholstery guru, pulled out of the ride and persuaded me to take his DR. He was saying he needed to stay home and look after his pregnant wife and toddler (and rack up brownie points). We think it’s just because he’s a really, really nice bloke. He assured me the bike was fully insured and I’d be fine (the only
time he’d seen me ride was when I’d pulled up out the front of his workshop).
Glass half full
I’ve said my bike knowledge is limited at best, but even I couldn’t help getting slightly excited over the way his exhaust crackled and popped going through the gears. The bike was terrific and so was the weekend – apart from choosing one of the coldest weekends of the year and having one person at the meeting point unable to start due to hypothermia, that is. My fingertips showed the impact of minor frostbite
for the next week. Heated grips are definitely a must!
When the temperature warmed up, it didn’t take me long to feel comfortable on the DR. I didn’t break any records, but I never do. I also avoided the 14 crossings of the Condamine River this time, even though Matt promised me the DR could swim. I still had a grin from ear to ear all weekend travelling through some spectacular scenery around southern Queensland and northern NSW.
So, if I can look at the advantages of being without my own bike for over three months, it’s that I’ve had the chance to ride different bikes that I wouldn’t have otherwise ridden. It’s also made me realise I know some lovely people who are willing to let me ride their bikes, despite my missing technical gene.
what I’ve learned
R Heated grips don’t make you soft. They extend comfortable riding time
R Even if things don’t go to plan, there’s always positives to be found
R Dave’s biscuits appear to be more popular than mine
R Even Luddites like me can appreciate the crackle of a good exhaust
R You don’t have to borrow your child’s bike – you can commandeer it
Karen ramsay
Author Karen with Dakar competitor Christophe Barriere-Varju.
This issue we have adventure-riding royalty. Kipo’s a well-known ‘character’ in SA, and a stalwart of the Quorn Schnitzel club. Pay attention, now. Here’s the inside line on…
advenTure rIder readers
Greg ‘Kipo’ Kipling
Q. Where’s home?
A. Port Augusta, SA.
Q. How old are you, Bloke?
A. 54
Q. Are you registered on the AdvRiderMag forum? If so, what’s your handle?
A. Yes. My username is ‘Kipo’.
Q. What bike do you ride?
A. DRZ 400, WR250F, Postie (doesn’t everyone?), Beta Techno and a 1980 PE 250 awaiting restoration.
Q. What’s the best ride you’ve ever done?
A. There have been lots, including the Victorian High Country, but I have a thing. When I get home after every ride I say to my kids, “Best ride ever!” If I’ve been out on the bike and made it home in one piece, it was the best ride ever!
Q. What’s your favourite place to ride?
A. The Flinders Ranges with my good mates Doc and Slatts.
Q. What do you like most about the mag?
A. It’s the thinking man’s ADB. And as Rick Sieman would say: “No tattooed FMX idiots”.
Q. What’s something that really peeves you on a ride?
A. When you ride a Postie bike naked down the main street of Blinman in the Flinders Ranges and one of your mates turns the fuel off and the bike stops in front of the pub. He knows who he is and my revenge will be unmerciful.
Q. Have you ever raced or ridden competition?
A. Yes, speedway and motocross a long time ago. Currently the SA Road Trial Series and this year I rode and finished in my first Finke Desert Race.
Q. What’s the toughest ride you’ve ever done?
A. The SA 24 Hour Reliability Trial. I’ve attempted six and finished one.
Q. What the FUDGE is a Quorn Schnitzel?
A. The Quorn Schnitzel Club was founded by PBee, Phil Fong and Gateshutter from advrider.com. To become a member you must attend the Austral Hotel in Quorn, SA and have a schnitzel with one of the founding members. There are some other rules involving a goat but I’m not at liberty to disclose those. The local mayor is even the patron.
Q. If you could go for one ride with any person in the world, who would it be?
A. Do a Baja tour with my On Any Sunday hero Malcolm Smith.
Q. Why are you on Facebook at 9:00am on a Monday? Don’t you have anything else to do?
A. No, I’m a real estate agent.
KISS
LThis KLR really gets around, and the owner likes the simplicity and reliability of the Kawasaki. It’s a KLR in a Special Situation.
ou Leeuwrik, 63, a retired communications tech living in Adelaide, is an interesting fella. He and his partner Lynn, his sister, Jenny, and brother-in-law, Des had an idea for a ride, and in 2009 he grabbed a new, red KLR650 and kicked off ‘42MCA’. The anagram represented ‘Four To Motorcycle The Americas’.
The crew flew their bikes to Argentina and then rode from Ushuaia, Argentina, to Prudhoe Bay, Alaska. That’s a trip of around 35,000km through some very harsh environments, including Ruta 40.
“In 2006 Lynn and I shipped our campervan from Darwin to London where we met up with Jenny and Des, who’d shipped their campervan from Adelaide,” explained Lou. “We drove all over Europe and finished up going through Iran, Pakistan, India and Nepal.
“That got us our start in adventure travelling, and as a result of watching Charlie and his crew do it with BMWs, we thought we could do these things too.”
Top: Crossing Lake Titicaca. Below left: Mike from Motolombia in Colombia was a big help to Lou and Lynn.
My way
Inspired by Ewan and Charlie, Lynn launched into her bike licence – on her 60th birthday – and Lou grabbed her a KLE and the KLR for himself. The bikes were loaded on a pallet and flew with them to Buenos Aires. Lou decided that going south to north would suit them, and Argentina was a good place to start.
Jenny and Des chose BMWs, but Lou had a soft spot for the KLR.
“I’d test-ridden a few bikes up in Darwin,” he remembered, “and the KLR suited me really nicely. Lynn liked the twin KLE.”
After plenty of riding with soft panniers, hard panniers were chosen for this ride, and Lou’s approach was in the very best spirit of adventure.
“I got two Kincrome, Pelican-style cases for Lynn’s bike, and for the KLR, I grabbed two old Telstra technician’s tool cases,” he tooled. “The frames are made from fencing tubing. I just bent them to go over the seat, down and around, and back over the seat again. They’re held in place with cable ties.”
That sounds like it may not be the toughest adventure rig out there, but the panniers and racks are still in use, and in fact Lou has used them on his last three rides in Australia. The racks and panniers are strong enough to protect the bike in a fall, but the cable ties break if things
get too hectic, and that prevents the bike’s subframe bending. Under the racks was the camping gear.
Other fittings included a length of plumber’s poly tube as a tool holder across the front and a hand-made carrier on the rack that holds a small fridge. An outlet near the numberplate powers the fridge and “keeps the iced coffee cold”. We love it when people have their priorities sorted. Lou used a Zumo 550 GPS, which he says got the group out of a lot of
Lou was there to uncrate the new KLR in Darwin with the mechanic. It was assembled in the carpark in front of the shop. What a treat, eh?
Overlooking Laguna la Cocha, Colombia. Inspected for dangerous goods and ready to leave Darwin for Buenos Aires.
Paso Garibaldi, Tierra del Fuego, Argentina.
Lou, Lynn and their bikes never flagged…except for this time.
trouble, but also steered them into some uncertain situations.
“We saw a lot of strange places,” he laughed.
High hopes
Altitude can be a real problem for carburetted bikes travelling South America, but the KLR was trouble-free. Lou had the bikes tuned lean on a dyno before he left, and although they were a tad short of grunt
at 4500m, there were no problems. The only mechanical hiccups to emerge during the 35,000km were the batteries failing in both the KLR and KLE. Replacement Yuasas had everything back on track in no time.
Lou’s obviously in touch with his bike, but he makes it sound as though he ran a light maintenance schedule.
“I adjusted the chain in Buenos Aires,” he spannered, “and then I adjusted it again when I got to the USA. That was the only time I ever touched the chain, other than a nightly lube when I inspected the bike.”
There’s also some big claims for Mitas tyres on this trip.
“We got 25,000km out of our ME09s,” rubbered Lou. “The only reason I changed them was because one on my bike was getting a little cracked in places and I thought, seeing as we were guests in a new country, I didn’t want to cause any flak with what might’ve been perceived to be an unroadworthy bike. I could’ve got another 10,000km out of those tyres easy.”
Greetings
After some amazing travels and exotic experiences, Lou found a greeting he now tries to pass on to others he meets who are touring Australia.
“The Iranian people, when we were travelling through there, many of them said, ‘Welcome to my country’. And I thought it really did make you feel that you were welcome. So now when I meet people travelling in Australia, that’s what I like to say.”
Lou and his KLR have seen and done plenty, but there’s plenty still to come. As you read this, Lou’s preparing the Kwaka for another run at South America. There’s places in Chile and Argentina he still hasn’t seen.
Does he have any plans to upgrade the KLR?
Wrong! It’s in the US! The
Leaving Colombia for Miami. Mandy the sniffer dog gave the KLR a once-over.
Natchez Trace Parkway, Mississippi.
Watson Lake in Canada has over 67,000 signs.
“I don’t plan to trade it,” said Lou, “because I think it has too many fond memories, and it still runs a treat. And it still suits me. Every bike I jump on I like, but I like the KLR especially. I keep coming back to it because of the great memories.”
There’s not much any bike can offer that’s better than that.
These days Lou also has a Ural, and you can find out a whole lot about his adventures in photos at www.picasaweb.google.com/42mcagg and Jenny’s blog at www.blog.travelpod.com/members/jennykelly
Made it! Dead Horse Prudhoe Bay, Alaska. Minus five degrees and the KLR did it easy.
A few bits and pieces on Lou’s KLR
R It’s done 65,000km and the engine’s not been touched, not even the doohickey. The plug was checked at 60,000km
R The X-ring chain has done 50,000km and is still going
R Lou recommends disconnecting the side-stand safety switch. The wiring failed near the chain just after overtaking a semi and the engine cut out. Fortunately, the truckie was alert and swerved to miss him and two mates
Near Fairbanks, Alaska.
darren Brumby’s
2008 BMW F 800 GS
“I’m the third owner of this great bike and have ridden about 6000km in the six months since buying it,” ADVed Dazza, 40, from Ulverstone in Tasmaniac-land.
“Tassie has some of the best roads for this sort of bike – everything from twisty blacktop to remote gravel roads. I find the 800 has more than enough power for what I need, and 300km per tank is no problem. The only regret I have is not buying one sooner!
“The group I ride with all have similar bikes and we like to keep off the main road when possible and explore the back roads.”
Does he ever consider moving to a GSA?
“Yes,” offered Dazz, somewhat
mystically, as we waited patiently for him to tell us more. He didn’t. Brumbo hasn’t done a major build on the BMW, and that’s probably because it’s such a great bike to start with…and because he bought it with most of these mods already done. He only had to fit the SW Motech bag and the LED lights.
The fIne TunInG you see here InCludes:
R Mark 3 Pivot Pegz with Toppers
R BMW tank bag
R BMW bashplate
R BMW engine guards
R LED driving lights (fitted after these pics)
R Extendable luggage rack
R SW Motech 60-litre bag
Darren Brumby
new products
Andy tries all the products he sells, and he reckons this is the go for bike travel.
R Gets you up off the ground
R Keeps out the water
R Lightweight
R Compact R Quick to erect (giggle)
RRP: $175 with free Snake Skins. Ultralight version: $230
Available from: Andy Strapz Phone: (03) 9770 2207
Web: www.andystrapz.com
Checkout
exTensIon
R For helmets utilising a quick-release buckle
Products to improve your riding experience…probably
R Made from laser-cut stainless steel
R Prevents larger stones from damaging the headlight lens
R Latticework creates a rugged off-road look
R Available in black or orange
R Quick-release fastener that lets you easily clip on and detach the protector
R Extension slips into the quick-release buckle and the Helmetlok fits through the hole and onto your bike
R Simple and secure
RRP: $9.95. Check the site for postage and handling costs.
Available from: Rocky Creek Designs
Web: www.rockycreekdesigns.com.au
Bmw rallye Gs Gloves
This unpadded off-road glove features breathable fabric, reinforced leather and a ventilated plastic shell.
R Unlined summer glove specifically designed for off-road riding
R Back of hand features a combination of stretchable materials
R Hard-wearing kangaroo leather palm
R Protectors and foam padding on back of hand
R SuperFabric in areas at risk in the event of a fall
R Ventilation between fingers
R Available in black/anthracite or black/grey/red
R Short neoprene cuff with Velcro fastening
R Sizes 6-6½ to 12-12½
RRP: $130
Available from: BMW Motorrad Dealers Web: www.bmwmotorrad.com.au
The editor’s new favourite! It’s like three helmets in one. Run no peak and a visor, with peak and the supplied goggles, or with just the ‘jet-jockey’ sunshield. Awesome!
R Full-screen panoramic vision that can become a trail helmet with visor and goggles
R Constructed from carbon aramid fibre and multiaxial glass fibre
R Outside anti-scratch and inside anti-fog visor treatment
R Integrated UV380 label and anti-scratch sun visor
R Quick-release visor system
R Optimum comfort for the persons wearing glasses
R Micro-lock buckle system
R Very lightweight
R A well-designed ventilation system for extreme condition
R Visor adheres to a helmet gasket to provide better insulation
R Rapid anti-fog system
R Integrated retractable wind shield within the chin cover
If we can swing it we’ll get the inside line from Scott Britnell on his across-Australia record, and we might even make it to the Snowy Ride. You’ll have to get the next issue to find out.
Nick Dole sorts the Shop Bike suspension
A fullface helmet? An offroad helmet?
The Explore-R is both at once. A helmet with a carbon look able to face all terrains. It offers the same panoramic vision field as the Vision-R in full face configuration, very light weight and a well-designed ventilation system for extreme conditions.
