dakar stage 2: santa rosa de la pampa to san rafael

day 10 - 2nd january 2012

liaison 487km

special 295km

total 782km

start time 05:45

start time 05:00

as i may have mentioned in previous blog entries, jago loves to race and seeing the riders up ahead was a red rag to a bull (sorry mate!!) and off he went. i could see him slowly lining himself up for an overtake, but by now there were 3 or 4 riders grouped together, but then the next thing i saw was a cloud of dust. i was probably about 75m behind and by the time i reached the fesh fesh cloud i could see 2 riders on the deck and you guessed it, one of them was jago....shit! as the cloud dispersed it revealed the carnage, and jago kneeling, unmoving....i pulled off to the side and jumped off the bike to see how he was, pick up the bits of plastic and metal scattered across the track and to pick up the bike. essentially a rider had gone down in the fesh fesh and jago was too close to avoid colliding with his bike which cartwheeled him down the track. the front fairing was pretty smashed up and the nav bar, roadbook, ico, etc was all bent back towards the handlebars.

only cosmetic damage!

by the time we got going we had lost the 30 minutes of spare time and now had to race to avoid missing the start to the special. jago had no way to navigate so he followed, but when we arrived at the start, there was a refuelling point and massive queue.....we were going to miss this start. i went on ahead to reduce my penalty time and even though i explained the circumstances there was no assistance and i went through the start and pulled over 100m further down the track and waited. unbeknown to me, the officials would not let jago start until his gps etc was working adequately, which they repaired as best they could. 20 minutes later jago was through.

reading the roadbook at this angle is a little tricky!

now we were at the back, we started to find ourselves with the dilema of assisting other riders and getting going. the first rider we assisted had fallen on a really gnarly track, steep downhill section with big rocks meant trial riding. i found a suitable place to stop - the cars would be coming through soon and i could not leave the bike in the middle of the track - walked back up the hill to assist the french rider who had fallen and could not move his bike. once the bike had been picked up and moved out of the way, the rider kept sticking his thumb up at me. to begin with i thought he was thanking me, until i realsied his thumb looked a little odd.....he'd dislocated the top thumb joint......not having re-located a thumb or finger or any limb before - my own does not count as it relocated itself! - i shouted back at jago and asked whether he had....shaking his head i looked back th frenchman and took this thumb, smiled and pulled. he was either a brave man or in so much pain he did not care, but not only to let me attempt to help him but when i pulled the thumb i was in fact pulling on the lower bone nearest the wrist, rather than the end....i tried again....this time i felt the bone slide forward and then pop back into the socket! the sensation was horrible and i could feel the discomfort as well as the relief... in fact i seemed more releived than the rider! in all seriousness, was massively relieved and gave me a huge grin. i was pleased to be on our way, it was getting very hot now and we were losing more time.

not having travelled more than 400m another rider was off his bike, working on his engine with tools and parts laid out around him. we popped over and after a convoluted conversation in half-french jago gave him a stick of liquid metal. we moved off again, we were really losing time now and it was 45c and the heat was suffocating, almost burning your throat as you sucked the air in. i don't know if i've mentioned this before, so forgive me if i'm repeating myself, but another thing about the heat is what it does to your water. obviously the water warms up, which on it's own is not too bad, but what also happens is he taste takes on the plastic of the water bag and together with the what is fast becoming hot water, tastes absolutely foul and makes it very hard to take on water. this is where the nuun electrolyte tabs are so good - mine were stolen - not only to they replenish the salts and minerals, they improve the taste, even when warm, enough to stomach. fortuntely you could refill with cool fresh water at each check point, where under an awning a few folding chairs and crates of bottled water allow a moment of respite from the sun.

later that day i was astonished when i passed what appeared to be a dead cow laying on the edge of the track, glancing around i then noticed smoke rising from behind a bush, then a flash of light as the sun reflected off a survival blanket being shaken out and then in the distance i saw a helicopter. evidently a rider had hit a cow, killed it and destroyed his bike - it may have been a quad? - and was being airlifted out. another rider out of the dakar. this may not seem very sporting or compassionate, but there was almost a sense of relief when i saw another rider out of the race, as it meant i was still in it and i was no longer #187 out of 188 bikes that left mar del plata. but it was also a reminder to ride carefully, it was very much tortoise and the hare, nursing my bike and myself through the days.

as the day wore on, he km passed by and we were in good spirits, but as was the pattern with the dakar, they left the hard parts until the end. we'd been riding sandy tracks for a while now and that was fine, but they sarted to ripple so that you could not get a comfortable ryhthm. now there is probably a better way of riding them; harder and faster floating the front wheel over the whoops, but i could not keep that going for more than say 10-20m and certainly not the distances we were covering. it was hot and tiring work and from feling great one minute, i was starting to feel pretty shit. that's when we climbed the sand tracks to the first wave of dunes. the pistes were ripped if from the bikes, cars and trucks that had already passed making the obvious route impassable. i really could not get my act together on the dunes, i was having to tackle one at a time. it was exhausting work, sweat was pouring off me and i was starting to feel really bad. jago was stuck half way up a dune at this point so i suggested we took a break - we hadn't sorted out our daily routince yet and had not stopped to eat for a long time and the exhaustion and nausea were symptoms of dehydration.

sitting down in front of the bike, trying to keep out of the afternoon sun, i started to wretch. i knew this was a really bad sign and suddenly fear set in, this could be the dakar over with! jago had a rehydration pack and we quickly got as much of that inside of me before things got out of hand. i lay on my side feeling rough, just waiting for the nausea to pass and start eating again to get myh energy levels up. a few spectators on quads turned up to see how we were; it just made me feel worse that these guys were riding round for fun and here we were busting our guts to  be here.

once back on the bikes the next few km of dunes were ok, but then we descended into this hideous section of torn up tracks in the dunes, broken up with camel grass and thick brush. bikes and cars strewn across the landscape. riders taking shelter under the thicker brush, exhausted by the sun and the terrain. not too far up ahead we came across mariano. a helicopter was just taking off from his position which was a concern. turned out he'd fallen as he'd descended one of the many almost sheer drops in this dune section and had just managed to crawl out of the way as a truck followed him down and drove right over his bike, destroying it in the process. i never saw the extent of the damage, but it was enough to put mariano out of he race on day 2! we had to push on, but he hd been supplied with drinks and food and he'd be picked up soon enough.

great camera, can capture exactly what your eyes can see

the blurry image is a result of dehydration and exhaustion

i was in contstant turmoil, the heat was oppressive, the terrain unforgiving, the days were long, it was only day 2 and i was thinking how the hell am i going to continue for another 12 days, it can't be possible???? but then i would say to myself "take it one day at a time, one day, don't think about the whole race". ultimately i might not see all 15 days of the dakar and therefore there was no point worrying about the whole event, just what was in front of me, the next turning in the roadbook, the next check-point, the end of the special, the liaison. obviously there is a lot going on and the mind and body have had to adapt to a completely new way of life. and as the days wore on, i became more accustomed and focussed on the little things ensuring i did everything i needed to in the shortest amount of time. i had a clear routine in the morning and evening, but it was bloody hard to keep up at times, but nothing else mattered. however, this constant mind battle continued everyday of the dakar.