Distance: 422km
Dep: 10:00am
Arr: 3:00pm
Temperature: 9°C - 18°C
Total distance to date: 4056km
Route:
- Balladonia
- Pit stop in Southern Hill Rest Area
- Norseman
- Esperance
Just before Christmas last year, I went on a riding trip with Steph to see our friends Susie and Nick who live in Bright, Victoria. The Victorian Alpine Region is home to hundreds of kilometres of twisties, and is a place we go every year to have some fun when the weather is warm and tyres are grippy.
I love twisties, and I love the Vic Alpine Region. However, I have never felt so unsteady on the BMW - it was following months completely off the bike, and years of very intermittent riding while I was trying to start this business.
I suffered greatly that trip. There were so many mental blocks that I felt like I forgot how to ride, and I made repeated mistakes that could've gone terribly wrong. I was also dealing with golfers and tennis elbow in both arms, so gripping a handlebar did no favours for my riding.
Back in Melbourne, I decided to get a smaller bike to relearn how to ride. I discovered the Triumph Daytona 675, and one test ride had me hooked so much I bought a 2nd Daytona shortly after for the track. After riding these Daytonas for a few months, they've given me so much confidence back that I felt like I could ride the BMW with joy again.
With that backstory in mind, we'll fast forward to today.
Caption: A very clean Steph in Balladonia, not knowing what the day has in store for us.
Steph and I left Balladonia at a record-setting crawl, taking our sweet time leaving the bed and packing our goods. Both of us were still sore from the shocker of yesterday's ride, mostly due to shivering and shaking on the bike from the cold. We popped a couple of Advil's and did some stretching before climbing back onto the saddle. It's a short day of only 422km, one stop, 2 legs - what a breeze.
About 80km into the first leg of the day, I started getting an itch. An insufferable itch in my brain, telling me that I needed to go offroad with this bike. I looked at every possible dirt road that lead off the A1 as potential options. Perhaps it was because I felt so light and in control, perhaps it's because the twin Daytonas gave me a false sense of confidence, or perhaps I was just feeling especially adventurous.
My brain:
"That windy red dirt road looks super tempting, don't ya think?"
"What about that bushy area there, looks like a single track that fits an s1000rr perfectly."
"Those puddles look like they could use a splash"
At any rate, I was getting chilly on the bike, and I had forgotten to install the battery pack into my heated midlayer. I pointed out the next rest area to Steph, and we pulled over so that I can warm up.
Lo and behold, we happened to choose Southern Hill Rest Area located near Dundas Nature Reserve, which also happens to have a very large and tempting clay pan. Steph went down to the clay pan to take photos, while I went down for a very different reason - to check if my front wheel can make it over the ruts that lead downhill into the clay pan.
I chose a decent line that I felt a sportbike could make without knobby tyres, and told Steph about my plan to get the bike down there.
"You're not. You'll get bogged."
"I won't."
"You will."
"Okay. ...But I'm still going in."
In the many years of our relationship, Steph was never one to challenge my plans once I set my mind to it. Like my father has known for decades, she knew that I would do things anyway, despite how dumb the idea may be.
I had already dropped this bike on a separate trip in Sheeps Hill, Victoria because the council left 5cm of deep gravel in the road. I dropped this bike a few days ago in Meningie, SA because of an oil spill left by a previous vehicle. If I were going to drop this bike again, it may as well be on my terms. I knew there was a very high chance of us going down, but there was an itch I needed to scratch, and this was how we'd do it.
With Nena in 2nd gear, we strolled down toward the clay pan. We crossed multiple ruts by riding perpendicular to them, and as we got closer to the bottom, both tyres started to lose traction. 10 metres later, the tyres gave out simultaneously and both Nena and I immediately got suctioned into the thick red clay. All I could do was chuckle to myself - what else was there to do?
Caption: Slippery, sloshy, thick clay mud. A perfect time for a spa day!
I took a few moments to gather my thoughts while staring at this beautiful sportbike laying flat on her right side. The last time I was in a nearly identical clay pan, I was on a Husqvarna FE450 enduro bike in the Simpson Desert - with knobby tyres and about half the weight. Clay mud is extremely slippery, sticky, and thick. So this is going to be interesting.
Steph reluctantly made her way down from the safety of the sealed rest area and onto the clay pan. I couldn't tell if she was disappointed or impressed, but in true Steph nature, she didn't judge my decisions and jumped straight into problem-solving mode.
Caption: A s1000rr far from its usual habitat, a race track. Now fully loaded with luggage and having a nap in the WA Outback.
Our attempts to lift it with traditional technique proved futile. We had no traction underneath our boots or at the tyres. Lifting Nena more than 10 degrees off the ground caused her to slide forward and us to slide back. Not only that, but the force of the suction made her feel 50kg heavier than her 200kg self.
We tried swapping to various positions but they all failed in the same way. I walked back over to the bush and found the largest rock I could physically carry, and strongwoman-ed it into my arms, making it about half the distance before both arms gave out from the weight. The rock dropped with a splat. We decided we could push or roll this rock toward the bike, so we took turns using all of our bodyweight to inch this rock closer to the napping place where Nena lay.
First, we tried the rock at the base of the rear wheel, but our boots kept slipping. We then tried the rock at the front wheel, but had the same issue. We put the rock near our boots, but the tyres slipped forward.
Heading back into the bush, we found the only other rock and the largest branch we could find, which weren't very big at all, seeing as how we were standing on what was once a lake in the Western Australian outback. We put the rock and the stick at the base of the wheels along with our hopes and aspirations.
Caption: Steph with the heaviest rock we found in the area. It was deceptively heavy and awkward to carry, but it was the sole reason we could get the bike standing back up.
"One, two, three, LIFT!"
We got the bike up to 45 degrees before it started to sink back down. At this point we were committed, so we dug deep, held our breath and deadlifted the bike back onto the kickstand. With exceptionally sore biceps we gave each other a quick muddy hug before attempting the next bit: getting this upright bike back to solid ground.
Caption: Nena getting free slick tyres for her efforts.
This turned out to be half the battle, as we've now got a heavy piece of metal balancing on 2 tyres that are completely caked in slick clay mud, resting on more mud, being held up by two people who were slipping on the same mud. Not the greatest situation, but everything is figureoutable.
Things we tried to do to roll this bike out of the clay pan:
- Putting the bike into neutral and pushing from behind
- Pushing it backward
- Pivoting it with the kickstand down
- Throttling the bike in 1st gear
- Adding previously used rock and sticks behind the rear wheel then throttling
Nothing was working well, but we made the best progress by kicking the bike into 2nd gear and using the smoother drive to get us further, 1mm at a time.
Caption: Back on more solid dirt, staring straight toward the sun and feeling pretty content.
Once back on the dirt, I climbed back on and made my way up the slippery track, across the same ruts, with clay caked onto both tyres. My new gS1000RR* got a quick tidy up with a small stick to get chunks of mud out of the brake calipers and front fender.
Caption: Back on the sealed rest area, not a bad effort!
We made our way back on the A1, still covered in mud of course, at a gingerly pace while we waited for chunks of clay to whip off the wheels to get our traction back. Once the bike felt stable we resumed our journey to Normanton, where I admired the new artwork on the side of Nena whilst eating a sandwich that was drier than the clay pan we just climbed out of.
We were thankful that our ride to Esperance was uneventful. 2 hours of watching the trees grow taller and the bush growing thicker was a welcome sight to see. Farmland started appearing, along with curious livestock that seemed to light up to the sound of two bikes buzzing past.
Caption: Patiently waiting her turn for a bath.
After a much needed fuel stop, we joined the queue at the one and only car wash in town, followed by $20 of coins to get all the mud off. There's a high possibility the mud contained salt that could damage the bike, so the priority is to wash as much out of the moving parts as possible before it causes damage.
Checking into the hotel was a breeze, and luckily for us we get free laundry service!
Caption: Prime parking right at our doorstep.
*a GS is a wildly popular BMW adventure bike, and my bike is an s1000rr. a gS1000rr doesn't exist, but it should!
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[Day 10 & 11 were spent as rest days in Esperance. A massage, charcuterie board, and some local sightseeing day rides were exactly what the doctor ordered.]
