dakar stage 7: copiapo to copiapo - the day

day 15 - 7th january 2012

liaison 154km

special 419km

total 573km

start time 07:10


had a pretty good rest, but not a brilliant sleep. i kept waking up thinking it was time to get up, i guess i had not rested for so many hours in one hit? i was also aware that patsy's crew had arrived and needed to work on my bike which had travelled over 1200km without much of a service due to my short time at the fiambala bivouac. in fact i remember now that jago dropped some gear into my tent and i showed him my swollen leg. having been hit by the car 2 days prior, i had barely had anytime to see the damage. the obvious signs were my inability to straighten my left leg, the second was the fact that there was little difference in size between my thigh, knee and calf, it was tree like. but my simple logic at this stage was that my knee brace would keep me supported and i could ride the bike with a stiff leg.

it was a relatively late start, probably because the day's route was circular, arriving back in the same bivouac for rest day, here in copiapo. it turned out that the day jago was taken out of the dakar about 10 other riders had also faired the same fete, either with blown engines or heat exhaustion. the heat was getting to everyone. patsy warned me that because the organisers have given the competitors until 6pm the following day (rest day) to finish, i should expect this to be a tough day and should prepare to spend the night out in the dunes. so stuffing my pockets with extra food i set off.

although this was a challenging day, it was probably my most enjoyable. away from the tight tracks and dry river beds, the vast atacama desert of chile, was a wild, open and barren place, huge mountains of sand and rock, an inhospitable landscape, i felt like i was riding in a sepia lens, losing all sense of colour. the first stage was fast open tracks, but was followed with a long middle liaison section before hitting the second special. it was wonderful to see the ocean, the pacific, i had now crossed the continent.

the cooler ocean air soon evaporated and the fiery heat of the desert prevailed. i stopped a mile or so after the special start as i had problems with my battery and lights, but after messing around with my fairing and losing 30mins, i pressed on. the track seemed pretty fair, but as i had now learned the dakar would soon bite my ass! the first test was seeing a truck travelling down a steep slope towards me, i realised it was not a navigational issue, but one about trying to get to the top of the first steep cole. nailing it on the flat, i immediately felt the reduction in the bike's speed as i started the incline, in what looked firm, but was an energy sapping sandy rock or rocky sand; . dropping one gear, then two, i was very quickly in second gear revving the tits off the bike, trying to keep the bike moving forward without the front end lifting back over the top of me! you would expect this on an enduro, not a rally, but then no-one said this was going to be easy.

a brief moment of respite as i hit the cole, looking at the open expanse in front of me, i descended quickly.  i could see a vehicle in the distance, but it was a long way down, a long way away. with no trees or other features to gauge distances, the dead ground, made everything look close, but then when you saw something you could gain some perspective like a car, you then realised how vast the landscape really was. i love big, wide open spaces. having spent time in north east greenland, the yukon and the himalayas, i never feel more at home than this kind of environment, so long as you have access to water and some food of course!!

my daily routine would be to ride as far as possible before the first car past me, normally between 130-160km. i would then stop, take a piss, eat my lunch, let the first 3 or 4 cars go by and then press on. by then i would have already ridden a 250km liaison and on average and say on average145km of special, therefore 400km or 250 miles by lunch. however, i don't remember lunch on this particular day, not yet anyway.

earlier i mentioned mountains of sand. i had trained in the sands of morocco and tunisia, frozen oceans of sand, waves, flowing in one direction, gentle slopes one side, steep the other, so depending which way you crossed them determined how hard it would be to ride. here however, there were no patterns, just mountains of sand, 1200m mountains of sand, fucking huge piles of sand and rock sometimes, perched on top of more fucking sand. i had seen photos of previous dakars, they's scared me then, incomprehensible, but here i was, alone, riding up and down these insane slopes; you'd think twice about skiing down some of these, but here i was accelerating down them to ensure my front wheel did not dig in and flip me off sending me off down the mountain side. it was exhilarating. mental. crazy. but it was awesome!! this was dakar's finest hour.

on reflection, as i write, perhaps i should perhaps describe these mountains of sand as waves, but huge waves, gigantic waves, each one requiring my full attention to get me to the top and down the other side. it was relentless, another name for dakar, relentless, never ending, surely it must stop, how can they expect this of someone, to continue hour after hour over these monstrous dunes???

the memories are overwhelming. gritting my teeth, bouncing over the rocks and sand, each time planning my route in advance of the impending climb, building up speed, riding as hard as i can in one direction, before turning across the face of the wave to continue the climb to the top. locals gathered like vultures to watch the competitors pit their wits against these giants of time, lapping up the disastrous attempts, but then cheering and screaming on like possessed demons to those who defeat their foe. each successful climb was small achievement, a reward, but short lived as the next one loomed in the distance. it was exciting, it was frightening, it was a game, it was dakar!

in previous races, you could look for alternative routes and ways round, but on this scale you risked travelling miles out of your way and could end up running out of fuel and or end up in a place you would rather not be and where no one would find you. judging by the texts i received, the sat track was not picking up all the riders positions all of the time, so you were very much alone in this wilderness.

the day wore on. having raced off with captain dakar, at the start of the special, i thought i'd let him race on ahead while i sorted out my bike. he seemed to be following all the riders, jumping onto the next rider if it suited his timings better. there was no loyalty, he was very much out for his own. patsy had said to me that in preparation for the dakar you had to be selfish, by that she meant sacrificing time spent with family and friends. but on the dakar it was a fine line between looking after yourself and others, you never knew when it was going to be your turn when you needed a lending hand. however, you chose wisely, you had a pretty good instinct for those who would support and those who wouldn't. but when i came across captain d sitting on his bike going nowhere, i immediately offered to help. he could not start his bike in the sand. it is hard as when you need to kick start the bike, you need to stand on the pegs, but to keep the bike upright you need to lean against something like a tree or have your side-stand resting on something firm and sand aint firm and more often than not there was little you could use - worse case the inside of your lid. so i held his bike as he attempted to kick, but he was knackered. so i jumped on and kicked like, well i won't write the expression zippy would tell me as he and i would be in serious trouble. suffice to say i kicked it fucking hard 6 or 7 times in quick succession, until she exploded into life, revving hard to ensure a good flow of air and fuel, i handed the energetic bike back to her owner. he fucked off without so much as a thank you. was i surprised, no not really, and with a wry smile i climbed back onto my bike and started her with the push of a button. this time anyway!

to be continued....