Today is revisiting what Paul has termed as “The Road Of Death! Seventy two kilometres of dirt road between Tres Lagos and Gobiorno Gregores. The road is under construction ready for asphalt at a later date. It is therefore being resurfaced continually, which means tons of smooth rounded river bed type pebbles are placed on the road approximately three hundred millimetres thick. Cars then drive as fast as they possibly can on this surface ensuring that there are tyre wide tracks cut through the pebbles and a build up to either side, this buildup is exacerbated on corners. The challenge for the adventure motorcyclist is to pick a line, ensure the bike is in an appropriate gear, doing an appropriate speed to contend with the corrugations and to allow the bike to be given a handful to straighten and steady the bike if it should start to get the wobbles up and begin to get out of control.
Below are the grades of road materials ranging from 5mm through to 100mm diameter.
Control of the motorcycle becomes uncertain in a variety of circumstances on such a road. The first is when happily motoring along listening to ones favourite music and enjoying the scenery or lost in ones thoughts when the asphalt abruptly ends and the Rippio begins, the beginning is always a drop off the asphalt into at least one hundred metres of deep loose gravel. Being seated at this time sends the bike into severe wobbles, the rider becomes unnerved as they have no idea what is going on and the most disgusting expletives are ejected from the riders mouth. The expletives continue for at least a kilometre after the initial danger has been traversed. No matter the air temperature at the time the rider breaks out into an immediate sweat, this also continues for the kilometre! Nervous laughter and bravado regarding the skill of the rider to contend with the unforeseen section then ensues.
The second circumstance to affect control occurs when the tyre track narrows to the point where it no longer is a track. The build up to either side of the now non existent track has converged to form a massive pile of the offending river pebbles. This pile may not dissipate for a hundred metres. The rider has seen the convergence point for a short while but has been unable to, due to fear, take evasive action by crossing the build up on either side of the wheel track and enter another track. Evasive action in the form of crossing this build up may result in severe wobbling and in a worst case scenario total loss of control, high siding and a slam dunking into the Rippio itself! In the end, due to inaction, the rider sends the motorcycle into the convergence, clenches their cheeks and winds on the throttle hoping for the best!! The bike swerves, wobbles and heads off in all directions miraculously finding another wheel track to follow. This is realised by the rider once the expletives finish, the sweating stops and the cheeks unclench. This once again results in bravado and much back slapping talk over the intercom as the following rider has experienced the same.
The third circumstance occurs when thinking one is in total control after surviving the first two types of loses of control several times and having now covered quite a few kilometres on the said road. Suddenly one spies a section of road that has recently been worked on by the road crew and a fresh deep layer of lovely round river pebbles have been spread meticulously across the entire width of the road and for the next five kilometres. Upon sighting the new obstacle panic ensues and technique hard won on previous sections of difficult terrain is completely forgotten. Approaching the newly laid section one spies the road workers which adds to the already mounting stress, “ I am an adventure rider with all the fancy gear and bike, I am traversing your country, I know what I am doing, road works are nothing compared to the trials and tribulations I will encounter on my adventure, I must appear to be in total control”! One stands up on the pegs like a contender in the Dakar Rally, drops back a gear and has the engine screaming, begins to spurt profanities like there is no tomorrow, has cheeks clenched so tight that toiletting over the next few days will only occur via medical intervention and sweat drenches the riding suit so severely that all pores in the Gortex are made inoperable. All one hundred metres from the new road works!
Work has ceased on the road to watch the “experts” tackle the new section of road. As soon as the front wheel comes in contact with the first pebble control is in the lap of the gods, and everyone of them known to man has been either asked for support or abused by now! The bike has a will of it’s own and shoots from one side of the road to the other with the rider giving short bursts on the throttle to make it sound as if he knows what he is doing, all the time gaining speed. On several occasions workers on both sides of the road jump for their lives as the bike careers towards them, the rider shouting “hola” as he passes pretending he has purposefully come over to greet each individual! By the time the bike and rider finally reach the safety of the tracked road mentioned earlier, speed is horrific and an accident will certainly be fatal. With the realisation of survival the rider instantly backs off the throttle and appears to calmly raise one hand in a wave goodbye to the workers who are still picking themselves up from the side of the road or reappearing from behind maintenance vehicles. Within seconds the same workers throw themselves toward the previously vacated sanctuaries, the second bike has entered the new section of road!!
A slight miscalculation and the result can be devastating for the adventure rider!
By the time the seventy two kilometres has been traversed, most of it in a state of fear and total loss of control, corrugations have been traversed, bull dust holes ridden though, mud slid on, boulders dodged, gravel wobbled through, pot holes dodged, speeding motorists from both directions weaved by and workers greeted, the riders are exhausted.
Paul and I stop for a breather, what a day! We are elated over our prowess as adventure motorcyclists and our amazing riding ability! We must nearly be at our objective, check the time and map, we have only been going for 2 hours to cover one hundred kilometres. We can’t believe it, 300 to go!!
We continue on to Gob. Gregores for lunch, fuel and supplies then on to Bajo Caracoles for the second time in as many weeks. When entering Gob. Gregores service station the “adventure riders” are filmed by several “soft core” tourists from the Czech Republic who then proceed to admire the bikes and the hard core men that alight. The hardcore men admire the large truck with the heater, beds and coach seats!
The next section on asphalt is easy as the wind is behind us and we have music in the headsets. Outside of a tiny pueblo we start looking for a camp spot and finally find a cracker in a quarry. The quarry is filled with all grades of the wonderful materials used to create that seventy two kilometres of fun filled road we traversed in the morning!! We had to enter an estancia (station) to access the spot, Paul was a little worried about doing this as it might be illegal. I reassure him that it will be OK by indicating the wide open unpopulated area probably doesn't have a lot of police patrolling at this time!
No comments:
Post a Comment