Steamers

After a few days on the road, washing had become something of a priority. We all took an opportunity last night to wash our clothes in the sink and hang them around the room for airing. All apparel was dry this morning with the exception of James' items. Reluctant to pack them away wet, he decided to apply technology to the problem - and it almost worked. Microwaving solved the problem of damp t-shirts and underwear, but sadly melted his nylon socks. There's nothing quite like the stench of melted nylon imbued with Eau de Feet for breakfast.

A rough start for some

Ty's run of fortune continues unabated. The bike stubbornly refuses to run smoothly, and we are increasingly concerned about taking it into the desert. The suspect is the carburettor, and we have exhausted our own pool of mechanical knowledge trying to resolve this issue easily. The next step will be a full carburettor rebuild, but this requires tools, time and a clean working environment. Tomorrow will see us arrive in Alicante which is a major city and should offer appropriate facilities for an hour or so.

The hilarity stepped up a notch this morning when Ty announced that his rear pannier was sealed so well that he could hear the hiss of air when he pressed it shut. He savoured this thought for a minute or so, until Gary said "are you sure that it's not something leaking inside". A look of horror shot across Ty's face as he leapt for the bike and fumbled with the locks. In closing the lid, he had pressed down on the trigger of a spray can of WD40 lubricant. He's a big guy, and can sometime struggle to fit into his clothes - but they slip on MUCH easier now.

The day progressed otherwise smoothly with a 300km ride down through Tarragona, skirting the perpetual traffic snarl that is Barcelona, and finishing at Playa del Moro on the coast.

Carina had pre booked the hotel for us and really excelled herself this time. We are travelling off season, so some truly stunning deals are to be had. An image of tonight's resort hotel is attached to this post and has cost us the princely sum of 35 euros.

A walk along the oceanside promenade capped off a pretty tranquil day.

A very late night (2:30am) meant a sluggish start this morning, not helped by Carina cooking a sumptuous spread for breakfast. As a result, it was nearly 11am by the time we had got ourselves fed and packed and fed some more.

What a great feeling to wheel the bikes quietly out onto the French lanes nearby James' house and

Sack of doom
Perpignan for lunch

Garuda insanity

Trials with Garuda Airlines continued unabated for our Perth to London flights.

Having already endured a couple of reschedules, I was paged to attend the Garuda desk at Perth Airport for important information. When I presented myself at the desk, they sombrely informed me that my seat had been reallocated meaning that I would not be sitting alongside Ty and Gary for the trip. I resigned myself to this and accepted the replacement boarding pass, only to note that it was for precisely the same seat as the one I was already holding. Bizarre, random, Garuda.

The Jakarta to Amsterdam leg was uneventful - really really uneventful - because the inflight entertainment system was offline. After the 6th assurance of 'just ten more minutes and it will be fixed' we all resigned ourselves to ipods, etc. Indeed, the system remained stubbornly inoperable for the remainder of the 17hr flight.

Fortunately, the technical and administrative inconveniences were more than compensated by the lovely and gentle Garuda inflight crew. Even dealing with one irate and entirely unreasonable customer, they remained calm, smiling, and very hospitable.

The landscape outside is barren in the extreme, and a stark reminder of the riding conditions we will encounter early next week.

team member comment (James)

In my last blog entry I talked about doing sand trials to at least get a feel for what riding in sand is going to be like. Having never really done any riding on sand, my first thought was the beach, but I was naturally concerned about rising tides, etc. While France has a long coastline, it is generally pretty hard to get onto the beach by motorbike in an area where you aren't going to annoy or offend anyone blasting up and down. My other requirement was to be close enough to civilisation that I could get some help if it was needed (I had images of being bogged with water coming in quickly in my mind). Well I was right to be concerned on all accounts as it turns out, and in the end my selection was a sandy bar near the little town of Lecuete.

Heading down the sand bar, I tried a variety of speeds and gentle steering through my feet. I quickly discovered that if you go too slow, you get bogged down quickly, and if you go to fast, it all turns into a bit of a wild ride! Well I was going a bit quick at one point, the bike was getting very out of shape, and the sea was approaching rapidly. Breaking with the front brakes is simply not an option (unless you WANT to be flung over the handlebars that is), so I went for the next best thing and leaned heavily, ditching the bike into the sand, competing a not very elegant commando roll and coming to my feet in a not very smooth motion, with the bike firmly lodged in the sand, and the water licking the tyres! A little too close for comfort!

Turns out I had an audience, but there was no applause to be had (plenty of laughter though). The young french blokes having a giggle at my expense wandered over to give me a hand turning the bike on its side to get it out of the trench I had created for it. Lifted it myself - not difficult if you know the technique, and managed to get it started on the sand again, resolving firmly not to go quite so fast!

By the end of that I was well and truly stuffed, as riding on sand really takes it out of you. Heading towards the ramp I felt fairly pleased with the progress I'd made. Naturally that's when everything went wrong...   As I crossed towards the ramp at a reasonable speed I failed to notice a slightly damper looking patch of sand. My front wheel sunk down into it quickly, then bounced up and out even more quickly, coming up while my head was still coming down. Crack! The screen struck me at the base of my nose, splitting it open and leaving me seeing stars for a few moments. Those few moments were enough to send me off in the wrong direction and into the wet boggy sand and muddy mess on the wrong side of the ramp. The bike came to a rapid halt and was quickly buried to nearly the tops of the wheels in mud, muck and sand - effectively quick sand - the sinking only stopping once the bash plate was well into it. Firmly stuck, I stepped off the bike and contemplated the situation, not realising that blood was running freely down my face making everything look a bit messy. The pic below is later after I had cleaned myself up a bit. For those that know me and are wondering what the full beard is all about, let's just call it camouflage and leave it at that ;-) 

My first attempts at trying to prise the bike from the mud and muck were utterly unsuccessful, so I looked about for help. Wouldn't you know it, the same two french lads were still watching my antics! When they saw I needed a hand they removed their shoes and really got into it. What a great couple of guys.  I certainly would not have been able to do it without those two helping! Vive la France! 

So a few lessons learned in the process:

1) always have the helmet with the chin down in sand.

2) stand all the way up, particularly in the knarly stuff

3) speed is the key to sand riding. Too slow and you will bog quickly, too fast and it will quickly get out of shape

4) steer with your feet (gently) and use power to help turn

5) ignore all the slaloming around and let the tyres find their way through

6) better to have knobblies in deep stuff

7) sand is hard hard work, avoid it if possible   

Oh, and have a couple of mates about to give you a hand if you are truly stuck!

(Ed comment: well James will be stuffed on this ride then, no mates in sight)

sand all over the side of the bike just means it felt tired and needed to lie down for a rest

windscreen meets face, you try to work out the angle

slavery in Mauritania

Perhaps the most value from our travels comes in the form of personal development that broadens our horizons.  Each country and each culture offers something new and interesting; whether this be street food in the Latvian christmas markets or Mayan history in the ruins of Tikal.

As we visit this region on the other side of the world, secure in our ability to return to our privileged lives; I am very conscious that we are travelling through country where poverty is endemic in the regional areas and more than twenty percent of the population still live in slavery.  The concept of slavery is completely alien to my generation in Australia, however it is only a couple of generations ago that we used our own indigenous population for a form of bonded servitude.

To find out more about slavery in Mauritania, visit https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5yQlOPD8mNo

To make micro-finance loans that help by offering people a pathway out of poverty, visit www.kiva.org.

View the Kiva video here to see how these loans make a very real difference.

why the KLR650?

This is a question that we get asked a lot by real adventure travellers.  By 'real', I mean those who have spent upwards of $40,000 on bike and kit, and are sufficiently well equipped to survive a nuclear holocaust.

It is always a hot topic of discussion around the Horizons Unlimited campfires and on the ADV Rider forums.  Everyone has an opinion, and most of those opinions revolve around a circular badge (BMW) or an orange paint job (KTM).

Our reasons for choosing the KLRs as an adventure bike are really quite simple to summarise:

• They pack up amazingly small (vital when shipping is charged by volume)
• Parts are available in almost every corner of the world
• Parts are available at inexpensive prices
• Dealer support from Kawasaki is second-to-none for knowledge and service
• The bikes are mechanically simple and straightforward
• They require no 'special tools' to service and maintain
• A sufficient (but not extensive) range of accessories is available
• They can run on absolutely atrocious fuel quality (think filtered through flywire)
• The stock seat is comfortable for 500+ km days on dodgy roads or trails
• Handling is safe and predictable
• Tyres are common sizes that are readily available everywhere
• When they all over, they are light enough to pick up easily
• When they fall over, usually nothing breaks
• If something does break, it is rare for the bike not to be rideable

I often join the rest of the group at a bike rally drooling over the depth of the shiny paintwork on the latest offering from Germany, but on the road I am much more concerned about absolute reliability, and being able to get moving again quickly if I come unstuck.

For most of us, time is precious when we are travelling, and the last thing we want to be doing is sitting around waiting for a dealer on the other side of the world to try and work out how to get a temperamental or easily broken machine moving again.

The past four years have seen us cover more than 20 countries on the KLRs.  They have been buried in sand, dirt and snow; have started first time in -15 and +40 degree temperatures; and have fallen over multiple times only to get back up with minimal damage.

They might not be the prettiest toy on the block, but they are damn near unstoppable.