Armchair Racers

FEATURE ADVENTURE

ARMCHAIR RACERS ANDY WIGAN

2010 AUSTRALASIAN

SAFARI ROUTE

LEONORA SOUTHERN CROSS PERTH ESPERANCE

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COOLGARDIE NORSEMAN

Sixteen blokes sign up for the 2010 Australasian Safari’s Adventure Tour, and, after 2300km, discover it ain’t a scenic, social spectator ride.

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roud as punch, I roll my Ben Grabham 530EXC replica across the lush grass of Perth’s seaside Safari bivouac, quietly contemplating the week ahead. I’m lost in thoughts of WA’s

expansive skies and distant horizons, its historic goldfields country, the colours of wildflower season and the rugged coastline that’ll bookend the trip. I look forward to sleeping under the stars, and getting to know

this Safari-spec KTM the CPW guys had lent me. And I’m revelling in the fact there’ll be no racing against the clock for an entire week! I smile, take a deep swig of ocean air and feel good about the world.

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FEATURE ADVENTURE Just beyond an “Adventure Tour” flag that’s swaying to the tune of the Freemantle Doctor, I spot a random collection of tents, swags, support vehicles and bikes. Tools, parts and riding gear are strewn over the lawn, and a motley bunch of middle-aged blokes riffle through it intently. ‘Yep, this must be my posse,’ I think to myself. I park the 530 against the nearest tree and take a step back to admire the thing. Big, beautiful, fresh Pirelli hoops, ready to rock. Sweet!

“Hey, have a go at this wanker, will ya! All the gear and no idea!” I hear the muffled slurs and sniggers from the far side of the campsite, and feel the weight of a dozen blokes’ collective gaze. Should’ve expected it, really. What a wannabe I must look like. These guys had all spent months saving, planning and preparing for this trip, whereas I’d collected ‘my’ bike just three minutes prior, and I don’t know the thing from a bar of soap. My prep amounts to little more than a quick check that I’d packed riding gear, camera equipment and a toothbrush, and I suddenly feel like some pampered rich kid with an expensive new toy. The rest of these blokes are still hard at work putting the finishing touches on their trusty old workhorses, and here I am with a glistening racereplica that’s dripping with parts and pretense, and sporting what looks like an Eiffel Tower-worth of navigation equipment!

For a couple of the boys in camp, intrigue for my flash-looking 530 outweighs their disdain for the wanker standing next to it, and they wander over for a gander.

“Sure looks pretty, mate. Yours, is it?,” one of them asks.

But before I get the chance to disown the 530 on a technicality, the other bloke pipes up: “Well, will you look at that! Old mate’s name is integrated into the graphics kit. That’s a nice touch.

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And it’s got customised hub stickers, too. La-dee-bloody-da, eh! Makes it faster in the desert, does it?”

Unlike the sarcasm, I hadn’t yet noticed the “Wigan” on the front plate or the “Transmoto – ADVT 1” hub stickers. Sucker-punched and speechless, I cast a glance across the bivouac to the CPW KTM crew in the adjoining camp. They’re all looking over and pissing themselves laughing. They knew exactly what sort of reception would be awaiting me on the spectator side of the campground fence, and they’re lapping up every moment of this little pantomime.

The bastards!

As a motorcycle journo, I’ve been in this position countless times before. It comes with the territory, and I’ve learned the best thing to do is simply ride it out. There’s no sense trying to offer insight into the unseen side of a journo’s gig; about the piss-poor salary, stupidly long hours, merciless deadlines or time spent away from family and friends. They never buy it. I can’t escape the fact my entire existence appears to be showered in good fortune to these blokes, and that they’ll keep reminding me about it. It’s just a question of how long the mock hostilities last, and what form they’ll take.

That night in my tent, I reflect on all the similar predicaments I’d found myself in over the years, and the tendency for guys in the tour group to fall into one of three distinct camps.

First, you’ve got your Tough Guy. He’s got his indifferent act down pat. He goes out of his way not to blow wind up anyone’s arse, let alone this media chump’s.

You’re just another bloke creating dust as far as he’s concerned. He sees you as a princess; a wetbehind-the-ears, try-hard motopunk who’s never ridden a bike

A tank of fuel, a cuppa, a few biscuits, some practical jokes and a snooze – all before a spot of afternoon spectating.

“Hey, have a go at this wanker, will ya! All the gear and no idea!”

The 2010 Safari’s ceremonial start was on the water’s edge in Perth.

After 3600km, it arrived in Esperance.

On tour, there’s never a shortage of advice or take-the-piss. But Corona limes were in short supply.

for more than 200km, never owned a twin-shock, and has absolutely no cred. Tough Guy is the first bloke to offer up his learned opinion on dirt bike forums, but claims to know absolutely nothing about the media.

That’s the story he sticks to for days – during which time he avoids eye contact – until he finally relents and acknowledges Media Guy’s presence.

A night on the turps or a good, long dice on a tough section of trail will generally expedite this process.

At the other end of the spectrum, you’ve got your Enthusiast. He lives for his monthly dose of dirt bike mags. He buys all the Aussie magazines he can get his hands on, and the odd overseas one as well. He collects every issue, reads

every word, and knows each mag’s staff and contributor base better than the editors themselves. And because he can never get enough, he spends the rest of his spare time on dirt bike websites. To begin with, the Enthusiast will often come across as withdrawn and even shy in Media Guy’s company. But sooner or later, he gets the chance

to divulge the depth of his dirt bike media knowledge, at which point he absolutely unloads. He generally ends up being a good bloke, but there can be some disconcerting, stalker-like moments en route to that point.

Then there’s Mr Oblivious. He loves riding and he’s ridden dirt bikes for as long as he can remember, but he literally knows nothing about

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FEATURE ADVENTURE dirt bike magazines or anyone who works on them. He just doesn’t think they offer much value or interest, despite the fact it’s been 10 years since he last picked one up. He’s rider, not a reader! Mr Oblivious is often an accomplished smartarse and he’s inclined to drop sarcastic remarks, such as, “Well, la-dee-bloody-da, eh! Makes it faster in the desert, does it?” And, funnily enough, he’s usually the bloke I first strike up a conversation with on a tour. Because, to Mr

coastal towns of Albany and Esperance in the south – but there are also guys from Melbourne, Launceston, Adelaide, Canberra and fire-ravaged Kinglake in Victoria. Curiously, I’m the only bloke from NSW. With a group of this size, remembering names is hard work, especially when you’re meeting old mate with a helmet on half the time. Thankfully, there’s a crossthe-board inclination to wear the same stinkin’ riding gear for days

Is there anything more satisfying than a lush patch of grass when you need to perform some mechanical surgery?

“I’m lost in thoughts of WA’s expansive skies and distant horizons, its historic goldfields country, the colours of wildflower season and the rugged coastline that’ll bookend the trip.”

Oblivious, I’m just another bloke; no baggage attached.

Yep, every trailride seems to have Tough Guy, Enthusiast and Mr Oblivious. They each come in a variety or shapes, sizes, ages, origins and numbers. And the truth of the matter is, they guarantee I’ll have an interesting trip. In our Safari Adventure Tour group, many of them are from WA – from the mines up north or the picturesque

on end, which makes the task of identification easier.

A couple of days into the ride, the group dynamic begins to change. Riding the mesmerizing wildflower-smothered Goldfields Country of Southern Cross, Coolgardie and Leonora seems to have bonded the boys. Black humour begins to surface and blokes are even getting away with out-of-the-blue paedophile slurs

THE ADVENTURE TOUR MOTO Andy van Kann (left) and Garry Whittle.

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he idea of integrating a non-competitive tour into the Australasian Safari was birthed back in 2001, when the race was last staged in the Northern Territory. Twelve-time Safari vet and now owner of the GHR Honda team, Glenn Hoffmann, took the concept to organisers; suggesting it could act as a feeder for those interested in racing the Safari, or simply a great ride for those who wanted to

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experience Safari from the sidelines. Hoffmann might have only had five or six takers that first year – all of whom spent much of their time at the back of the field, getting the hurry-up from the sweep and recovery vehicles – but the idea took hold.

Now, almost a decade down the track, the “Adventure Tour Moto” concept has been refined and improved by rally aficionado, Andy van Kann,

along with multiple Safari competitor, Garry Whittle.

And the thing is now so well-subscribed, the boys could have filled its limited 15 places three times over in 2010.

After a week in the saddle, we sat down with Andy van Kann to reflect on this year’s ride.

TM: Andy, how’d the Adventure Tour Moto start in its current guise?

AVK: Last year, Safari organsiers, Octagon, asked me to put it together, and it went very well. We learned that people really like tough riding, so we lifted the bar for this year. And here we are in Esperance after eight very tough days. Some of our riders are stitched up, but they’re all here.

How did you aim to improve it for 2010?

We wanted to incorporate a lot more of the competitive course this year. So when we lifted the bar, it was both the difficultly of the riding and the length of the competitive sections. This year, the ratio of riding on the course itself versus transport sections was much higher. That’s the direction we’d like to continue to take it. We want it to have a reputation in its own right as a very tough ride. It was particularly pleasing to see two of the riders from the 2009 Adventure Tour not only racing this year, but running in the top 20. Four of the boys on this year’s Tour are already putting their packages

together to compete in 2011. So it is clearly working well as a feeder. For 2011, we plan to give our guys the opportunity to fit navigation equipment to their bikes, so they can use the experience as both an adventure ride, and a stepping-stone to feed into the Moto competition.

How logistically challenging is this sort of ride to put together?

Two months prior, I spent many weeks in the WA bush putting the course together and making sure the route maps for the group were 100 percent right.

I worked very closely with the Clerk of the Course, Ron Rigby and his wife Wendy, and did some innovative things to allow the Adventure Tour to run in front of the field on some days.

What other support is required for a group of this size in remote terrain?

We’ve got two support vehicles with the appropriate medical equipment, and access to the medical support and communications infrastructure Octagon provides to the competitors. And we’re fortunate to have the services of Garry Whittle to lead the tour.

In the past, he’s competed with the Husaberg team, who now supports the Tour enormously. So for the guys who are quite high-level enduro riders and want to get into this form of desert racing, having a guy of Garry’s pace and experience is very helpful.

Garry can give them a feel for competition pace on

Tempting as they are, salt lakes have a delicate ecosystem and swallow many unsuspecting riders.

When you find your lunch growing on trees, you know someone’s got too much time on their hands!

the course itself, which lets them gauge whether they’re up to it. And the trail-level riders can fall back a bit without getting hurried along or riding over their heads. I sweep at the back of the group and I’m certainly not at competition pace. Most of us are there just to have a fun and ride safely at our own pace.

Aside from the riding, what other aspects of the Safari do the guys get the chance to experience?

We stay with the competitors each night, so our guys can walk around the bivouacs and talk to the team bosses, competitors and support crews, which gives them a feel for the preparation, planning and costs required to compete in the event. They also get direct exposure to the amount of work that needs to be done on the bikes each right, and all the logistics of camping, eating and fuelling, etcetera. In other words, they get to experience all the vital ingredients of the race first-hand. All the Moto competitors are very supportive because they know this is the feeder group, and they’ll take time out to talk the boys. There’s just so much knowledge exchange available to the Adventure riders. It gives our guys a great insight into the Safari and what it takes to compete. Many blokes have come to me this year and said it’s been a life-changing experience. And for me, hearing that is very, very gratifying.

against complete strangers. Maybe it’s the barren salt lakes and their mirages that’s twisting minds, or merely the result of adjustment from suburban life to an unfettered Outback existence. Or maybe it’s the mind-altering effect of long hours in the saddle. Whatever the case, Tough Guy has softened, and the Enthusiast is putting on a brave face to stave off the pain caused by a nasty case of monkey-butt. Mr Oblivious, meanwhile, is just getting into his stride. He’s up an hour

before everyone else in the morning and wondering what the hell all the stretching, groaning and sore-arse fuss is all about.

On Days 4 and 5, we tackle some serious competitive sections, and it’s becoming obvious I’ve lucked into a great bunch of characters.

There’s no out-of-control egos, no poor trail etiquette, no one slowing up the group’s solid pace, and no end of laughter when we stop to meet the support crew for a cuppa and kick back for a couple of hours

to watch the competitors do their thing.

Dirtied and used, my KTM is no longer the centre of attention – though there’s still the odd slur about my too-white riding gear and the fact the CPW race team is servicing my bike each night back at the bivouac. I point out that I’m in the Media Centre til 1am, submitting my daily report on the Safari for the Transmoto website, but that never seems to cut it.

After a few more days of technical

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FEATURE ADVENTURE trails through the Woodline Country around Norseman – the town at the end of the Nullarbor – the beautiful Salmon Gums gradually give way to more open spaces, then farmlands, then rolling green hills that remind me of Wales, and funnel us south. Sweeping views of the Great Southern Ocean appear and we get out first glimpse of Esperance’s bright white sand dunes and beaches. I’d been hearing stories about this coastline for as long as I can remember, but never visited.

And as we get closer, it’s like waking up inside a dream and dictating terms of where you take the thing.

The air warms and takes on that distinct seaside aroma, so I park up with a few of the boys to take it all in and enjoy the vista. We reflect on the past week and the incredible variety of terrain we’ve traversed; of how the Goldfield, Woodline and Coastal Country broke the week up into three distinct sections, each of which imprinted itself on our memory banks forever. We talk about the fantastic riding, our support crew’s magnificent service, the killer vantage points we played spectator from, the clinical nature with which Ben Grabham claimed his third Safari win, the solid pace the group managed all week, the lack of serious injuries or flats, the scrumptious bivouac food, how lucky we’d been with the weather, and the good company and rip-roaring bullshit quotient from the group’s standout raconteurs. And we laugh about the fact there hadn’t been the hint of an argument or harsh word spoken the entire eight days. That’s unusual.

By the time we roll into picturesque Esperance, we’d covered 2300km, of which 800km was on the competition course.

That’s twice the competitive distance the Tour did in 2009, and included the 250km competitive stage where one of the boys was forced to abandon the shitty BMW 650 he’d hired for the ride – the

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WA’s Esperance beach – surely there’s no better place to finish a week-long Outback ride?

“These guys had all spent months saving, planning and preparing for this trip, whereas I’d collected ‘my’ bike just three minutes prior.”

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After 200km of nothing but dust and the sound of their engines, competitors cop the cheer squad.

now notorious BMW that provided eventual third placegetter, Matt Fish, with a lifesaving dash of fuel.

After a cathartic splash in the crystal blue Esperance ocean, we kick back and watch the competitors

For photo galleries, interviews and footage of the Safari’s Adventure Tour Moto, check out www.transmoto.com.au

tear along the beach on their final competitive section, before rolling into the ceremonial finish on the town’s foreshore. With the Tampa floating in the distance, we enjoy a few beers and reflect on the

sedentary existence we’d each be returning to.

Stupidly, I mention something about a new Kawasaki KX450F project bike that should be waiting for me back in Sydney.

“That come with custom hub stickers, too, does it Wigan?,” says Mr Oblivious, dry as you like.

That stinkin’ Smartarse! But this time around, at least the media chump has a name!

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