Every morning however, time is set aside for a detailed pre-ride inspection of the bikes. Encompassing mechanical, electrics and electronics; we usually end up with a small list of things to repair that have either broken or rattled loose on the previous day. The chains require oiling, and we check all fluids.
Keeping a strict maintenance regime is the only way that the bikes will continue to carry us safely through such a long period of sustained mistreatment.
- - - - -
A somber start today, as we passed the scene of the bus accident yesterday that claimed the lives of 22 young children along with assorted adults and both drivers. There is nothing left of the bus except for the frame and the air is rancid with charred plastic and metal. One can only hope that they were killed by the impact or incinerated immediately.
We have just stopped for a rest after riding canted over at a forty five degree angle for the past two hours.
The wind is near gale force, and whips large swathes of sand across our path. Even crouched behind the screens, it tears the comms microphone away from your mouth and buffets the body.
The sand is as fine as talcum powder and finds every crevice. Despite wearing expensive helmets with double visors, the sand still coats the eyes with a gritty film that refuses to clear.
Refuelling for the Honda needs to be delivered through a special sand and water filter to prevent contaminants. The KLR's have in-tank filter units, and we hope that these will be sufficient to prevent issues with the fuel systems.
We have now entered the true Sahara, and are surrounded by berms of sand as far as the eye can see. It is absolutely desolate, broken only by a find ribbon of road that is partly obliterated by sand too. It races across the road making fantastic patterns and confusing the eye.
Stopping at one checkpoint, the officer scrutinises out passports and fiche carefully, before pronouncing Ty's photo to be "beautiful". It is already a difficult task, but fitting the helmet back on his head is going to be near on impossible henceforth. Unlike some of the grim visages at these checkpoints, this one is a cheerful soul and wisecracks merrily in French.
A little further down the track we come across a hole in the ground off to one side. Further investigation yields a real surprise, with a hole nearly fifty metres deep that plummets down to sea water. We are near the coast at the moment, but clearly the sea undermines the rock and sand considerably, as we can see water surging through the bottom of the hole. A quartet of young kids play perilously close to the edge, and are quite happy to pose for photos with us. Their tolerance for the edge of this monstrosity is much higher than ours, and we prefer to stand well back.
Continuous contact continues to be no issue thanks to James' InReach satellite communications unit. This is a great piece of kit, and the rest of us will certainly be buying one for next year's journey.
