Wet Road with Andy Strapz

This entry is part 17 of 19 in the series Adventure Rider Issue #33

“You’re off yer chops”,remarked the bloke behind the servo counter as I trembled a credit card at the never-never machine on the counter. “You should be at the pub in front of the fire”.

You reckon…

Andy reads every e-mail you send.

Here’s a few responses to his last couple of columns. If you have thoughts on something Andy’s written, or someone’s out of line in their response to Andy’s thoughts, let us know. Include a pic of yourself if you can.

The Essence – issue #31

I’m 52 and I’ve been riding for about 35 years, 30 of those glorious years only on bitumen.

A few years ago I bought myself a well-sorted DRZ400E, but fell into the “Nah, you’ll be fine. It’s not gunna be too hard, just easy dirt,” trap Andy wrote about in his column. Needless to say, my first-ever adventure ride ended in disaster. My new found ‘adventure-riding mates’ made it look easy, but I only lasted 15 minutes in the ankle-deep soft sand on the Border Track.

I could not understand the behaviour of the bike under me. I experienced the most horrendous tank slapper, got spat off the bike and dislocated my elbow and suffered serious injury. I sold the DRZ400E.

However, I got back on the horse with encouragement from new ‘carefully chosen adventure-riding mates’. I suppose I am no longer the novice newbie, but I understand full well the anxiety and apprehension of mates newer than me to this gig.

I have now ridden the Victorian high country, been to Birdsville, the Flinders, Innamincka, Kings Canyon, Finke and places I can’t pronounce. And, I’ve just returned from riding 5600 metres up into the Himalayas with a couple of mates. Truth be told, I am still anxious (scared) of sand and will avoid it if I can.

I hate to think how many boys and girls have given up, or will give up, adventure riding and never see those out-of-the-way places because of that first bad experience with ‘riding mates’ who were/are supposed to have their backs.

I believe we must look after our mates and help boost their confidence. Isn’t that what mates are supposed to do?

Merv Yazarloo

Thinking Big – issue #32

Andy is dead right. I’ve travelled all over Australia, on back roads mainly, on only 200cc and 230cc trailbikes – two-strokes at that. I’ve had a ball.

Eight years ago I bought an F800GS.

I’ve enjoyed the thrill of power which I’d never really had. But after a ride a month ago with a mate, and also having just turned 70 years of age, I decided to downsize. I rode the Kawasaki Versys 300X and was immediately impressed with it. I bought it on the spot and have since sold the BMW.

I’m having a ball on it and reliving the dream. There are many more trips to be done.

Downsizing is the go. It’s much safer and enjoyable riding.

John Lynn.

I agree with Andy Strapz on the topic of some people getting a big bike because they think it’s the thing to do. When I was shopping around to replace my old well-worn KLR, I considered buying a big, top-of-the-range, European toy.

However, it was too expensive, didn’t have a suitable touring range (it was thirsty with a small tank for a 1200cc), was expensive to insure and parts and accessories were overpriced.

So I traded in my old KLR on a new KLR. Even when it’s fully loaded (including a trailer) I’m able to overtake road trains without any problems. I fail to see the point chewing up extra fuel to give me extra horsepower I don’t need. Chris Arlow.

Let me step back a bit. All week the weather report had been less than encouraging. The weekend was gonna be more suited to building a windsurfing ark than riding motorcycles. The soft part of the crew suddenly realised they had their undies to iron. This ride had been planned for a few weeks, and as it involved more organisation than a head-of-State visit, two of us were not to be put off by a little rain and wind.

The camping gear was put aside as a concession to bad weather, hard accommodation booked at Licola Wilderness Lodge, and maps were scoured for route alternatives.

There were so many ways to get there, we figured, maybe we could ride around a few drops of rain?

Andy Strapz

Storm boy

Saturday dawned clear and sunny.

“Ha! Bloody weather bureau,” we chortled.

“What do they know anyway?

” We struck out on the best of the worst routes out of the rat race, headed for the high country.

The massive puddles by the road made it pretty clear that Plan F – a road ride – was gonna be the best option for the Bumblewee-and-Benelli-TRK502 combo.

Our trip took a step into the paddling pool as we stopped to ‘drain the beans’ in a small town. The inky, black-green cloud that’d been bringing up the rear finally caught up. As if the weather man was after revenge, all hell broke loose. Gale force wind, hail and thundering rain pushed up into the veranda we were hiding under. I had to put my helmet back on to keep my bonce dry! We were neck-warmer-deep in a maelstrom.

After leaving our servo counsellor, the road opened into about 70km of fabulous winding road, one of Australia’s great rides, Heyfield to Licola.

Okay, I am gettin’ to the point.

On-road adventure

Road riding in teeming rain and strong winds is one of the most challenging pursuits we do, I reckon. The level of concentration required to ride smooth and push the pace (within the conditions) is extreme. A patch of diesel might be on any corner, rushing brown rivulets (plenty of them this day) over the next crest or a 4bee bell-end on the wrong side of the road. In one spot what I thought were birds running across the road turned out to be a rock fall.

Stepping out a rear wheel is all part of dirt-road jollies, but wet-road power slides are for the vastly experienced or the seriously touched.

Setting up safe, accurate lines and feeding in the drive, riding on ‘feel’, looking for the edges of grip…

the modern term ‘mindfulness’ came to errr…mind. We were living totally in the moment. There was no space for anything other than the road ahead.

Although I was a little disappointed we didn’t get much dirt time and it may not be what might’ve been classed as an ‘adventure ride’, I can tell you it was challenging and thrilling. An easy ride never made a good story. Maybe that’s part of the definition.

Off our chops? Pig’s rump!

Have you had a wild ride? Is Andy getting soft? Should bad weather make any difference to adventure riders? Let us know what you think. Email tom@maynemedia.com.au and we’ll make sure Andy reads your thoughts.

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