It’s What We Do

This entry is part 1 of 21 in the series Adventure Rider Issue #13

I’m heading to The Far Side.

It’s somewhere different for each of us. I think of ‘The Far Side’ as riding that’s wildly at odds to the riding we each normally do. My ‘normal’ riding isn’t easy to define, but left to choose my own path my riding usually involves some degree of challenge. Maybe it’s distance, maybe it’s terrain, maybe it’s a bike totally unsuited for an intended task or maybe it’s just out and out speed. For me those things say ‘adventure’.

I’m always humping around painkillers, multi-function tools, hard-as-rock tyres and fuel cells that take a day to fill. I live off road-kill and sleep in a hollowed-out log if that’s what it takes to meet the challenge.

But lately I’ve been looking at a different kind of adventure rider.

I’ve been noticing those guys who seem to stay fairly clean, have shiny, gorgeous bikes and are smiling all the time. It’s as though they don’t have to wear the same pair of jocks for two weeks at a time and suck clumps of blue-green algae for the nutrients available to negotiate the lunar landscape they’re riding through. They’re on a huge variety of bikes and wear all kinds of different gear, but there are a few things they all have in common. They all seem to have hard panniers, for instance. And they have tyres with hardly any knob pattern at all. And in the mornings when I’m cracking the ice off the tarp I’ve slept under – so I can melt the ice to make tea from a used teabag I found in the bush when I stopped to deal with a handful of smashed spokes – they appear on the verandah of the nearest country pub looking freshly shaved and usually glowing with the heat of their morning shower. They watch the sun come up, laugh a lot while they sip from steaming, clean coffee cups, pick up a pannier in each hand, then head downstairs to clip the luggage on their quiet, smooth bikes and ride off in the direction of the nearest café for breakfast.

Those guys are on the The Far Side for me, and that’s where I’m going for a while.

Hard panniers have always been anathema to me. They catch on everything and make the bike as wide as Bronwyn Bishop’s interpretation of ‘within the guide-lines’. They’re hopeless…unless you’re not riding tight, muscle-cracking tracks with trees and rocks hemming you in either side of course.

And those tyres! The first time they get a run of slimy, wet, red clay, they’ll have no hope…except, they look for country pubs, cafés, and awesome landmarks, and not many of those are on slimy, wet, red-clay trails.

And those expensive, matching touring suits! Who can afford to replace them twice a year?

Except, the type of riding those guys do,“I’ll live off roadkill and sleep in a hollowed-out log if that’s what it takes.”

they don’t tear up and destroy their apparel during high-speed falls on rutted trails and in multiple, chest-deep creek crossings.

It’s not that I’ve avoided that type of riding, and I’ve enjoyed it when it’s come around. It’s just that I’ve always been drawn to a challenge. I’ve seen those guys when I’ve been out riding and thought to myself, “Each to his own. If that’s the riding they enjoy, good on ’em.”

I’m not too bright, but it finally dawned on me that maybe every adventure ride doesn’t need be structured so success means survival. There’s a sheer joy to be found in just being on a great bike with great people and seeing great places.

That’s what I’m going to try for a while.

I’m sure I’ll do plenty of challenge riding as well, because that’s my natural inclination.

But I’m going to see how I feel about chasing a little comfort and looking for something other than a series of adversities to be overcome.

I’ll let you know how I get on.

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