dakar stage 5: chilecito to fiambala

day 13 - 5th january 2012

liaison 151km

special 265km

total 416km

start time 06:00

back into the sand today and the heat, a mind blowing 52c!!

losing time and energy standing in the sun waiting to fuel up

having had a relatively straight forward morning - and i mean relative as i had been stuck in the sand more than once already - we were riding sandy river beds, then p and over the ridges in between, before cruising down a river bed again, until we were taken off into a small gully, which on the face of it looked pretty straight forward. at this time, we were still ahead of the cars, but the sand in the gully was completely chopped up. the gully was v-shaped, about 30ft wide, the top sides were about 15-20 ft high but the gully floor was only about 10ft wide. it was all sand. due to the constant changes in direction, you had to ride up the gully walls, sweep down and ride up the other side and so on. this was ok for the first 2km, but then it just seemed to get harder, and even hotter. just behind us was another rider, i never knew his name, but on the back of his camoglauged jacket was printed in white 'captain dakar' - a chilean army officer and i don't think i need tell you the alternative i came up with! he was riding right up to the top of the gully walls, riding along what we thought must have been a ridge, before descending back into the gully. then we heard helicopters,this usually meant riders were down. it seemed the captain dakar was actaully getting navigation tips from the pilots of the army heli as he climbed the gully wall and we did not see him again.

jago was running very low on water so suggested we climbed up to see what was going on to see whether he could get some water. there we could see 2 helis parked up about a km away, so we had a crack at getting the bikes up the gully wall. the ground was all sand with bush, but the surface had been bake hard, so initially the ground felt firm, but too much gas and you were up to your swinging arm in incrdibly soft sand, it was mighty frustrating to ride.on the top we rode quite easily for a short distance, before we had to cross the gully at the point we were meant to exit as per the road book and where the helis were. on arriving at the helis we saw one bike on fire, an australian rider who's husky bike engine had blown and was waiting for his flight out, a pilot, a few others and the boss etienne, (who would be on hand to help me again before too long!). he talked to us about the heat, that man riders had already pulled out through bikes overheating or exhaustion, so he gave us as much water and spare food as we could drink and eat, but all the time telling us to eat at the same time (this was a valuable tip in the coming days, as the method was like having an isotonic drink thereby enabling your body to absorb the water more quickly rather than just passing through the body and washing out what minerals and salts you had left). he also told us that the third leg of the day had been cancelled due to the rain, but we had to get moving before it got dark. it was already 3pm.

and on we went, away from the gully, but still riding plenty of sand. it was pretty hard to stay upright and it would prove to be the last straw for jago as he fell a few times and finally broke his clutch lever. 

i know there's a spare clutch lever in here???

moving over to the side of the track to fix the lever i waved down a passing dumper truck, containing a fallen race bike a few local supporters. i was not sure what i was going to ask for, but thought i would ask if they had access to any spare bike parts and or the possibility of a lift....somewhere? jago's spare lever was not for te 450exc so did not fit!

the rain clouds forming, although the heat was still intense

the options open to us were to tow him in the sand or try to file the lever so it would fit. what we did not know at this point was that the clutch had burned out and in doing so the hydrauic fluid was also knackered. next thing we knew the locals had jumped off the truck to bodily lift the bikes straight up onto the truck.

the bikes on the back of the truck

it had started to rain and the locals said the river bed would flood, so it was safer that we traveled in th truck with them to the next village, from where i could get to the main road and tow jago to the cp, but it was going to mean a long tow. so trundling along the track, back the way we had just come, we spoke with the locals who's been watching the riders coming through, the problems and now the weather.

a moment of respite....even a smile from jago!

a young girl ask me to marry her and introduced me to her father, a slight dilema as i did not want to offend the very people who were helping us!

"will you marry me?"

i telephoned rory to let him know what was going on and to relay to patsy etc. i knew this was a risk and although jago said that i should continue without him, i felt that we could finish the day together. then the truck stopped, it was stuck in the sand! reversing and then trying to go forward again did not work so the locals jumped out and started cutting the brush to lay over the sand tracks and got behind the truck and started to push. i jumped down to help while jago was filing.

the leatherman at work

this went on for hours and we seemed to just be going backwards as each time the driver reversed to get a run up, the truck just got stuck again. then we heard a bang and then the sound of escaping air, one of the branches used to cover the tracks had punctured one of the truck tyres! we were not going anywhere now. 

one of the passengers had been assisting the aso and told us an aso truck was coming over to help tow us out, so not to worry. on the contrary, jago and i had to make it very plane that the bikes had to come off the truck immediately or we would be out of the dakar for sure. within minutes the bikes were off and we looked busy working on them when the aso vw 4x4 turned up to inspect the truck. the locals were milling around, chatting and laughing and feeding us biscuits while we worked on the clutch lever. sadly after hours of messing around with the lever, it still did not work, we thought it must have been the clutch, but could not afford to spend anymore time on it. there was no option but to tow jago to bump start him and then he'd have to ride without stopping for as long as possible. my bike needed kick starting as the battery was flat, but this also meant my normal lights would not work, let alone my halogen. so with one of the tow rope wrapped around my left footpeg and the other end around jago's right footpeg we started the first bump start in the sand. jago was in the left rut and i was in the right, the rope tightened and of we went, building up speed to about 20-30kph jago put the bike into gear, relying on engine revs as no clutch. off he went into the darkness. pulling my clutch in i came to a stop, then with my right hand i coiled up the tow rope, now covered in sand and stuffed under my body armour. by now i had a little amber light to help me through the darkness, but after about 50m it all but died out, hmmm! head torch? just as i started to fumble for it in my tool bag which was around my waist, i noticed the aso 4x4 lights heading over, so i thought i would wait and use their headlights until my battery charged up enough to run my own lights. the driver had realised i had no lights so drive at a good speed to allow me to run comfortably along the sandy track.


about 40 minutes later i caught up with jago. the fact he had ridden this far without stopping was remarkable as the terrain was not easy now that we were riding up yet another river bed at night. by this time i had left the 4x4 behind now that my lights were working again, but was not certain that jago had gone off route or that i had made a navigation error. we rode together for a while longer until we came across a sweeper truck heading in the opposite direction and stopped to see whether we could scrounge spare parts for jago's ike. sadly that was in vain. we pushed on. now only about 1km from cp1 we thought we'd cracked it, but found ourselves off the roadbook and fighting our way through thick, thorny bush and no clear way ahead. with my draining lights and jago's lack of a clutch we thought we'd try walking to the cp and leave the bikes, then work out a better route back to the bikes to ride out on. leaving a flashing light on the bikes i walked out about 50m on the cap heading to the cp, then i'd stop and wait for jago to join me before continuing. but after about 200m we realised that we'd never find out bikes again, it was a moonless night, cloudy even, and the bush was so thick. towing jago's bike out of the bush we heading back to the river bed to try an alternative route.


we decided i would ride up river and try to find the cp. it was now 4am the following day, we'd been riding since 6am. climbing over some seriously large boulders i was back in the river bed, but the trials riding had only just begun! the rocks turned back into boulders and although i could see a street lamp not more than about 200m away, the route was impassable and there was a dubious climb to reach the road. i turned back knowing that jago would never get far without a clutch. there had to be another way. back with jago i collapsed onto the sand, lid off, drinking hard from my pack and panting, i suggested jago ride my bike and try the route to the left of where i went. i had seen some tracks there and it looked like the ran alongside the river rather through it. i watched him ride off into the distance, the light dimming the further away he moved. then he stopped, at almost the same spot i had turned back. hmmm. then from the other direction the whole river bed lit up as the two sweeper trucks returned. they'd made the same navigation error as we had and pulled up alongside to check what we were doing. obviously there was only myself at this point. the aso doctors were not impressed and wanted me to stop. i explained jago was looking for a route out and pointed to the stationary light in the distance. they waited, i waited, jago still had not moved. it's weird, but i never once considered something might have happened to him! then one of the sweeper crew set off to retrieve jago, while i chatted with the others. returning on jago's bike in a pair of shorts and trainers, the sweeper guy said jago was ok, just exhausted. we both were. then out of the dakrness jago arrived and i quickly explained the situation and that we both need to look as sharp as we possible could or they were going to get aso to stop us continuing. adamant that we had trained for this situation and that we were not about stop, they said ok you may continue, but if you stop once more then that would be it. although technically they could not stop us, it would mean we would be totally on our own and would have to contact patsy to explain where we were and then work out how to transport bikes back to mar del plata. that was beyond out thoughts.


positioned, with the tow rope in place, we were ready to get going. revving hard, my rear wheel just sank in the soft sand, right up to the swingarm. i looked back in despair, jago's bike had not budged. "that's it! bikes on the back of the truck". oh, ok, that's it? the dakar is over? not quite how i imagined it, guess we did ok? we'd certainly given it a pretty good shot, just bloody frustrating to be only 800m short of the cp. lid off i started to walk back towards jago's bike when one of the sweeper crew said "you are going to continue, no?" "er, yes of course!" and at that i put my lid back on and headed back towards my bike. i had been given an opportunity to conitnue. all tiredness, concern, doubts faded away. "i'm still in!" all i could think about was getting to the road, just a short ride away and riding between the 2 sweeper trucks we were on the road 10 minutes later. i was not short of light, but we had to stop a few times to get the 4x4 through some pretty deep, but empty river beds and i did not want to stall and risk not being able to kick the bike into life.

i had lost my goggles in the bush, so jago gave me his - how on earth could he see anything, they were orange tinted, scratched to buggary and dirty - but better than noubt, well only just! i was told to follow the first truck, with the second following behind. i was told it was about 130-150km to the bivouac and needed to ride at 100kph, seemed ok. but it was quite cold now, i'd been riding for 23 hours and the roads were winding up and down, it was hard, monotonous riding. and then the tiredness kicked in. yelling to keep awake, lifting my goggles to get air into my eyes, how long could i keep this up? 100km done, ok last 30-50km or at least that is what i thought, until i saw a sign a bit further down the road that said 100km!! talk about mind over matter, i felt so low, the goal posts had suddenly moved and i had little in reserve. i gritted my teeth for a few more km before i slowed down and waved the truck down. i just stopped. the driver of the truck behind came bounding over and asked what was up, i said i needed to stop, i needed to rest, but they should continue. i would sleep for a bit and then get going again. he said hang on a minute. then this other rider appeared, putting his jacket on and smiling, then the plan was explained; this guy would ride my bike to within 10- 20km of the bivouac, i would get my head down in the truck until then. simples. fucking great idea! i climbed up into the sweeper truck, slightly unnerving as i did not really want to be there, jago said something but it was just jibberish, he was still asleep i think, gato was there and a couple of others. i sat in my bucket seat, closed my eyes and was out for the count.

waking up, the dawn light was coming through the window, the truck had stopped. without hesitation the cab door flung open, the cold air rushing in. it was bracing, but i was clambering down the side of the truck ready to finish the stage at about 7am in the morning. topping up with more fuel, i rode into the bivouac to the bewildered faces of spectators already gathering for the morning start, other officials and competitors. dropping my bike at the admin tent was not a great way to install confidence in the officials who were deliberating about me continuing. but the official who was there had given me a great bit of advice the day before "have faith! you have faith!". signing the papers to say i'd missed a shit load of way points and check points, i was told i could go. thank fuck for that.

as i'd arrived john had turned up, not sure how he knew i was there, but as always he was there to greet me at the end of my stage. such a relief to see him, with or without a camera! he asked how was feeling and i said that i was not feeling brilliant and that i probably was not in the best frame of mind to make any decisions about the day ahead. i was considering stopping, but first i needed a dump, may be even a shower if time (they were always cold by the way!) and something to eat.