Lockdown Lowdown with Andy Strapz

This entry is part 18 of 21 in the series Adventure Rider Issue #42

This year certainly has been one of change and challenge. No sooner had we set a plan to spread the love in the bushfire-ravaged areas than we got locked in the shed.

There are only so many times I can check the tyre pressures and chain tension. And… a tidy shed is like a tidy desk; a sign of a sick mind. I’m not going that far.

There is only so much non-riding time this little black drake can cope with. With a bung ankle, bush-fire road closures and now the Mexican Beer Virus, I haven’t ridden for nearly six months and there’s not much more than a lit fart at the end of that tunnel.

Rate hike

I remembered a mate telling me he wore out his first bike, a BSA Bantam, doing laps of the backyard.

Never one to be short of an idea (or let common sense get in the way), I thought, ‘Why not use the yard as a training ground?’ Wheelie bins, lemon trees, clotheslines, treated pine logs and hunks of firewood made for a pretty passable obstacle course.

Those who live in an apartment block might find a whole world of strife if they were to set up a training course on their property, but my little patch of paradise has enough twists, turns and changes of level to get a sweat up. Slippery grass adds to the work of controlling clutch and throttle. Picking up the bike occasionally just after realising control was lost, again, gets the heart rate up.

Care is needed

Maybe we’ll be a bit freer by the time this edition hits your place. The first few weeks AC (After COVID) are likely to be absolute chaos as every rider ever endowed with a pair of handlebars will hit the road (I expect too many will…
literally) and head for the furthest source of carousing, sticky carpet and parmies.

How cool will it be to share a camp spot or front bar with a whole lot of other addled, like-minded riders, tonguin’ for a good time and a yarn? Dr Z is parked with the front wheel facing the garage door ready for a rapid exit the moment Scomo drops the flag.

Andy Strapz

Bikes will be overpacked. We’ve had months to gather the gear for our next trip. I find the longer I have to prepare, the more I convince myself I need another useless bit of kit along…just in case.

Fuel will be stale; the bikes will cough and splutter until the first fuel stop. Bums will be road-soft and wrists will ache from lack of use (don’t go there). Our sleeping bag will smell like a rat died in it (it just might have). Testosterone will ooze like a sea fog and long-dormant skills will be awakened. We might have to take a roll of duct tape and mark out social-distance Xs around the campfire, but none of this will matter as we get the wind on our balding heads, bugs on the visor and dust in our teeth.

So, check yer helmet for spiders, shake the cockroaches out of ya jacket and get ready for an old-fashioned Baja start.

And be bloody careful. Keep abilities and ambition balanced!

Wheelie bins, lemon trees, clotheslines, treated pine logs and hunks of firewood make for a passable obstacle course
Every rider ever endowed with a pair of handlebars is ready for the moment Scomo drops the flag.