Scottish Trials

Every year for the last few years, a bunch of friends and I get together on trials bikes and muck about in the Scottish wilderness for a few days. Last weekend was our latest Scottish Trials adventure.

Autumn colors in Scotland

Mike, Ant and I started off with a wee warm-up for a few hours in a local bing quarry. At first, I was pretty wobbly and a bit hesitant about those massive hills and drop offs. Within 15 minutes I was back into it and attacking most things in third or fourth gear. Braaaaaaaap-braaaaaap!

One o'clock in the morning the night before... bike prep

We charged the big climbs fast and finessed the more technical rocks slow, we laughed, we cried (with laughter) and had a few offs. Just three mates cutting about an abandoned quarry on trials bikes, hugely entertaining - as always. After - a super-tasty meal at Mike's mum's and a few drinks in town we get a good night's rest (thanks Liz!).

Alan joined us for the next leg of the trials weekend... heading out into the wilderness. We normally do a day out in the forests, starting early and returning late. This time we loaded a few backpacks with some tents, a few bits of equipment, some food, whiskey and fuel then headed out to our camp spot for the night.

Coming up with creative ideas for a broken chain guide over a bottle of Scotch

After an hour and a half of cutting through the forest, around fields, over hills and some forestry roads, Al guided us to an ideal spot that he and Mike had discovered a few weeks earlier. We struck camp then headed out to play on the bikes until dark.

Through muddy ravines, wee burns (streams), pine needle blanketed forests, single tracks, heather covered hills and gravel roads. Every clearing used by the forestry industry becomes a playground. Huge arcs up massive embankments - challenging each other to ride higher. Jumps over piles of rocks and the classic trials route over a stack of huge concrete pipes for those with great skill (those like Al).

High up onto the windblown hill-summits where hail lashed us like being roosted on an MX track and down into the heather-covered dale . Traversing a massive hill that has just been stripped of all the trees by machines of destruction. Uber-gnarly terrain with the only passage through the huge Caterpillar tracks ripped into the earth. Even those were tough going on the little bikes. It's like being in a post-apocalyptic wasteland. Eerie.

Al sizing up a stream crossing...

... made it!

Back at camp by nightfall and with a bit of coaxing we get a good fire going with wet wood. Chunks of beef roasted like marshmallows and the tastiest lamb-steak burgers washed down with Laphroaig. Warming by the fire, drying wet socks, gloves and jackets. Smoke in eyes, chatting, more whiskey, laughing, snoozing and just chilling. Drunken midnight rides through the forest with a few get-offs onto the soft, wet pine matress. Laughter and more laughter.

Hazy, uncomfortable sleep. Damn, the ground is bloody cold without a proper ground-mat. My motocross trousers providing some relief from the cold despite the uncomfortable armor panels and buckles. After a few hours we stir from the clear, warm night to the sound of rain on the tents. The trees provide good cover though and we get the fire going again for breakfast. We're parched.

Sausages - flat and square (a Scottish thing) as well as traditional long and round ones. Scrumptious! We pack, get back on the bikes with lighter backpacks and emerge from the forest to driving rain. It only lasts an hour as we go to play again. We find an old disused forestry road and have races down it. Inevitably I crash, hard. Twice! Sprain my wrist but it's a lot funnier than painful.

Luchtime snack and it's another hour's weary trek back to the van. Soon we're back at Al's - knackered. We unpack the gear, clean the bikes, help stack some logs and have an afternoon fry-up finished off with some fantastic lemon-drizzle cake and chocolate muffin made by Al's good wife (thank you Sam!). Late afternoon farewells then Mike, Ant and I are heading back down to London.

I am in my bed after midnight absolutely cream-crackered. I sleep. Another fantastic Scottish Trials with friends and memories to cherish. It was awesome. Thanks guys!

Adventure Speedweek - Day 2

Haakskeen - The 5k Grin - part II

 

Early in the morning, it was still.
Yeah! That’s more like it.
Many still fell short of their marks, other took to the challenges at hand.

The wait.
The vehicle ahead of you gets the course all clear,
Shifts into gear, and pulls away steadily, as not to break traction on the soft surface.
You start to gear up, turn the ignition, and hit the crank, “wirrr Dong Dong Dong Dong….”
Music to my ears.
The thudding drone of a Ducati Desmo Duo.

There is enough time for warm up, before the course is clear.
Focus, focus on you chosen clean line.
The distance markers, you got to time it right.
Some of us have enough traction- power to flat out in the first 3 km’s, so you have to hold on a bit, and flatten it when it is right, to get it through the gate at the top.
(You are timed on an average on the last 100m at the end of the 5Km strip)
Believe me , some of them buggars need the whole 5 k’s.

The Clark of the Course gives thumbs up.
It is time.
Quick check.
All green.
Visor down and latched.
“Klunk” in gear, blipping of the throttle for the crowds, n we’re away.

Aggressive to start, need to put on a bit of a show.
But soon enough you are , away on moving on down the track.
Focus ahead, settle the feet on the pegs, move the ass back, and put the chest on the tank.
Get comfy.
Watch the distance.
It goes by quick enough.

Steady up to 80%, hold, hold… all feels steady.
3.5 km’s down, roll here flat, at tuck as much as you can.
She surges still, till 95% then bleeds off, still holding, squeezing, squeezing, the marker too soon flashes by, you hold still, just in case.

 

Shit , the turn out zone is her before I have rolled.
Bwwaaaaaah!……. the sudden deceleration from a flat out twin is quite something.
Slow it down, 2k’s after turn out, we peel off to the left, and do a wide arc round to the timing tent. (250m off the coarse to the left at the 5 km mark)

Some one walks out, as I approach, and shouts 211.
I smile and give a big thumbs up. Whooop whoop.

The goal set was 209.2 km/h(130mph)
Goal reached and exceeded by 1.8 km’s/h
Stock standard Ducati St2 2 valve.
It was great.
One of the few who achieved the speed they set out to.

The pan was more of a hand full than most anticipated.
That is pan racing.
Tar is easy, easy peasy.
Pan is kool. Pan is soul. Pan is not just outright speed.
Pan is unique……….

Have look and see.
An attempt has been made to capture some.
But you cannot rely feel, till you have tasted the dust, felt the sun ,spoken to the people, and felt the silent wind of the Kalagadi blow through you.

Nic.

Adventure Speedweek - Day I

Here's a blurb and some magnificent pics from my brother Nic's recent adventure inSouth Africa:

Haakskeen - The 5k Grin - part I
There we were.
Tourists, treasure seekers… pilgrims.
Drawn to the arid far north west reaches of the Southern land….
The Kalagadi.

 

 

Camped out on the edge of Haakskeen pan, an open vastness of solitude.
Together in our idea, individual in our method and goal.
On a quest.
Wring the nuts off your chosen fire breather, to see how fokken fast it’ll take ye.

 

 

(An official timed speed run, on a pan as flat as flat can. 6cm gradient over 2km’s)
(A sun baked crust of salt and clay. 5km’s is all you have got, to have your say.)

“Bring em bring em” from far and wide. “ If it got wheels , we’ll time it”,the slogan goes.
From 1930-2012 ,the models were present.

But alas, the pan was not going to let you just burn it, and take the honours.
Once the surface had been ridden on the first day, with high crosswinds, it broke up into a rough powder.
400+ Bph for the cars , some who know what, turbo charged 1400cc motorcycles geared for 420km/h+ took on a whole new meaning. Anything over 200km’s took huge balls.

(to be continued)