A couple of months ago, my mate Adam Richards proposed a trip down to Victoria for a weekend of riding. This had me instantly excited, the fact that we'd have to drive 3,500km over 3 days and a full night, for two days and roughly 300km of riding did not deter me in the slightest. In fact, I actually thought the drive would be pretty good in itself; see some nice scenery (you don't, it's all quite mundane blacktop with trees at the edges whether you go the coastal highways or the inland route) and get some good kay's up behind the wheel which is rare for me these days as I own two bikes and no car. Turns out Adam's old girl 1985 Landcruiser had some issues with overheating and did not like at all having to lug our bikes up any sort of incline, but she was great for keeping the remaining point on the licence and eventually getting us from a to b.
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| The chariot |
This sets the scene to some extent of the type of crowd that Pirate's tours attract; crazy ones. Let's start with Pirate himself as an example, the orchestrator behind all of this well oiled madness. His name is Jason Martin (Marty) and has acquired the nickname Pirate through an accident whilst riding dirtbikes which ended with a stick gouging his left eye which is now blind. For many, this would somewhat dampen ones enthusiasm for said hobby, but for Marty it is just one of the more notable accidents afforded by a lifetime of loving the thrills of two wheels (and preferably two-strokes).
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| Marty (the Pirate) & Me |
Another very noteworthy example is the B.F.G Jason who rode a KTM 530, in that Jason suffered a major crash some years ago riding through a farmers paddock, he was returning through a section where there'd earlier been an open gate but unbeknownst to him was now shut, he hit the gate at high speed and flew head first into a fence post. From the crash Jason suffered brain damage and short term memory loss. I include these quite horrifying stories because neither Marty nor Jase let these events dictate their lives and the way they tore up these trails you'd be very hard pressed guessing this history for either of them. It's an incredible attitude that those hooked on motocross bikes in particular display again and again, that roadblocks may come up, but ultimately nothing will stop them from doing what they love to do.Now this is what the weekend was all about; everyone mad keen to have a damn good time.
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| Scooter helping Adam with a puncture |
The atmosphere of the trip was incredible, competitive yet so supportive, everybody looks after one another offering assistance and advice. Marty had the riding system running smoothly and safely, himself out the front leading all the trails (anyone game enough to hunt him down was free to do so) with a corner marking strategy of the second rider to be stationed at any split roads that could be unclear who would then wait until the sweeper rider came through. On this trip Ray was the sweeper rider/fixer of all problems, with the tools and ability to change punctures, mend wounded men and an uncanny amount of patience.
Feeding the travelling herd of noise was overseen by Wazza and his fellow support team, these guys followed along with 4WD's and had our lunch on the go and beers at the right temp every time we had a big stop. Much respect and appreciation. Boonie was one of the guys 'helping out', he took the responsibility solely upon himself to test as many beers as possible throughout the weekend... just to make sure there were no duds. He was a crackup on the Saturday night pub stop, reminding everyone how piss weak our efforts were and that he'd be out next trip hosing everyone on his Peewee 50; I think we all look forward to that!
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| Rest stop on Saturday night; stunning scenery |
The variety of terrain that we covered in the 300 odd km was unbelievable! There's no end, you could ride the region for weeks and still find new paths; there were single tracks bashing through the bush, 100km/h+ open fire trails, incredibly steep hill climbs, long sweepers, tight hairpins, jumps, there was everything! The best thing is when riding in Victoria, so long as you've got at least a rec/reg licence, if you really do come unstuck with a big crash you can get helicopter rescue which is covered by the Govt! It's a way better system than what QLD offers.
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| Up in the treetops |
Fortunately for us there were no serious injuries on this trip. There were a fair number of big falls (I know I had several) but everyone came out with big smiles at the end, there was only one bike that didn't make it to the end, a Honda XR400 which had some severely worn bearings.
It was awesome to see so many 'older' blokes going so hard, Glenn in particular was absolutely smashing it on his YZ450F, flying past me a number of times with great skill and poise. Then poor old Anton on the other YZ450F was smashing it as well... into trees :P
Some of the hill climbs resembled battlefield massacres, with bikes and bodies sprawled across the track. Up certain paths Marty would just set up down the bottom and watch the hilarity unfold, it is always hilarious watching the stacks, but more often then not I was partaking in the tumbles.
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| Adam and the sun arising on Sunday |
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| The herd of travelling noise after a river crossing |
It really was an incredible trip, so many fond memories of pushing my abilities right up to and then beyond their limits which really gets the old heart pumping. But what really made it memorable is the quality of the blokes who came along. I wish we could have had more time to keep punching out the riding and get to know more of the guys better as everyone had an interesting story and definitely knew how to ride. A big thanks to Scooter, Ray, Gavin (fellow DRZ rider who helped me fix a number of things), Jason, Marty, Wazza & the catering men and my man Adam for getting us down there!
