Andy Strapz

This entry is part 12 of 16 in the series Adventure Rider Issue #26

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Andy Strapz – owner of one of Australia’s premier motorcycling retailers and accessory manufacturers – has been around motorcycles for a long time. For a few issues he’ll be pondering the meaning of the adventuring-riding life, maybe sticking his tongue out at some of the established conventions, and, best of all, asking a few questions aimed at having us all think about ourselves and our riding.

Back in early ‘naughties’ dualsport riding came along and I embraced it. I was sick of watching my speedo more than the road. The best bits of blacktop had between five kilometres and 50km of dirt joining them up which needed to be dealt with and were usually deserted. Great campsites were often at the end of a dusty road and on a trip to Tassie in the 1990s I vowed never again to be in a position not to go have a gecko.

Aussie roads had deteriorated to sealed goat tracks and didn’t look like getting any better. A bike with plenty of suspension travel made quick work of them and I was ready to make a change.

I hesitate to call this gig a sport.

It’s so much more. One doesn’t refer to ‘a bit of horizontal folk dancing’ as sport. Like breathing, sleeping and eating, these are essential activities. Riding a bike occupies a niche in there some-where, and it’s a whole lot more than a sport.

But what has adventure riding evolved into and where is it going?

Before I start putting the tyre before the rim lock, maybe the best question to start with is, what is it?

Andy Strapz

Q&A

Adventure and motorcycles have always been best mates. Is that enough? Does adventure riding have to include dirt roads? Does it need a special type of bike? Is luggage required to distance it from a trail ride? Is a big bike the go? Should the bike have special tyres fitted? Do we have to cross rivers, scale snotty hills or career about in sand to have an adventure on a motorcycle? Can you take a pillion?

Obviously, adventure riding can include all of these and more.

On a recent trip, Mrs Strapz had a massive adventure aboard her ’76 T3 Guzzi. She rode more dirt roads than she has in ages and thoroughly enjoyed it.

Just ’cos she’s on an old clunker of a road bike, does that mean it doesn’t count?

Those of you who’ve had the pleasure of the TTT Rally may not know that it originally was a run-what-ya-brung event and participants were expected to ride in on road bikes. Big roadies and sidecar outfits struggled in on deplorable muddy roads, dusted with snow, and it was a serious adventure. By hook or by crook, I tried to take a different bike in for the first 10 years and almost succeeded. A Harley, CX650, 750/4 and the mighty MZ ETZ250 are the jiggers I can remember.

Each to his own

The point is it means something different to all of us.

Some like the challenge of the worst possible road conditions, others want a quiet spin away from the jostling on the main roads. I often feel a little intimidated by riders who grew up on dirt bikes and possess the muscle memory to make big bikes dance in the dirt. There seems to be a testosterone-fed, ‘mine’s-bigger-than-yours’ elitism creeping into the adven-ture-riding world.

I was once told, “It’s not adventure riding unless you’re doing water crossings”. This magazine’s esteamed (pun intended) editor knows just how skilled I am at wringing out socks on river-banks. Sometimes a gentle shove outside the comfort zone is fun, but at other times being pushed too hard deteriorates into plain, freckle-puckering, grunt work and it feels the sooner it’s over the better.

My mate Scrawn yarns of taking an entire day to battle through 150km of mud somewhere out in the boonies.

Falling every few kilometres, covered head-to-toe in red crud, aching in every joint and sweating like a pig is funny…

now. He wasn’t laughing much while it was happening.

The old adage ‘an easy road bears no good stories’ – okay, I just made that up – is a truism. On a recent High Country ride Scrawn and another mate, The Bandit, led me into some seriously steep and rough country.

Ring-over-taillight descents, boiling brakes, launching over step-ups and tough and rocky up-hills had this intrepid adventurer puffing and wheezing up his toenails. A couple of flat tyres and a very late return to the shed sealed that two-dayer into a solid campfire yarn…

once it was all over.

We’re all aging and our reaction times are getting doughy. Getting ambitions and abilities out of alignment takes a
lot longer to recover from. Trying to ‘play with the big kids’ has a distinct waft of Dettol and plaster these days.

A bike with plenty of suspension travel makes good sense for Australian conditions.

Enough

Not all adventure riding needs to be tough and not all road rides are unadventurous. Getting filthy is not a measure of success. Fear and apprehension should be reserved for the return home having bought a swag of new bits for the bike, and drifting both wheels on any surface is not a prerequisite to a big grin.

There are no second-class citizens in our pursuit. All that’s required is a smile on the melon and a road beneath two wheels.

That’s living. That’s adventure enough isn’t it?

The TTT Rally was a run-what-ya-brung event. Access was via deplorable muddy roads, dusted with snow, and it was a serious adventure. Most attended on big bikes.