dakar stage 8: copiapo to antofagasta

day 17 - 9th january 2012

liaison 245km

special 477km

total 722km
start time 05:30


although feeling pretty refreshed after the rest day, i was a little behind in my routine, but it was a small blessing to put on clean clothing. not only had patsy and martin spun their magic with my bike, patsy had even washed my shirt, trousers, shorts, neck scarf and all the padded inserts from my lid, as well as dusting my lid, body armour and jacket using the compressor, then oiled all the zips, which had clogged up with sand. had my kit not been stolen, i would have had a new pair of trousers to put on, new shorts and shirt. but hey, it just showed you don't need all that extra kit.....if you had someone to wash it that is, thanks patsy ; )

we'd arrived in copiapo on friday evening, and it was now monday morning, so i was pleased to be finally heading north. today was going to be challenging, with one of the longest specials of the rally 477km. the first kms were across a labyrinth of tracks and together with the dust from the other riders, made it tricky to see and navigation more complicated.

i have not written a lot about the dust, i guess it was so much a part of each day that i had become used to it? i'm not sure that i did, but you did accept it to some extent....it just lingered. and once the cars and trucks had caught up you were in trouble as no sooner had the dust cleared from one passing vehicle, another would come by. in the early days when there were more vehicles it was a lot worse. i remember one situation trying to slow down quickly enough when a car passed, the dust cloud was so thick i lost all sense of where i was, the direction i was traveling in and whether or not i was stationary or still moving; this may seem hard to believe? in this instance we were at a sharp left had bend and i stopped just before hitting the berm at the edge of the track which would have sent me into the air, on or off the bike i would have been in trouble!

on another occasion i was flying along with nothing coming up in the roadbook, when  within the lingering dust cloud i had entered i suddenly caught sight of a red sign pointing to the left, jumping on the brakes i slid round the corner, glancing back at the rock face i would have otherwise crashed into. you learn from those experiences.....read the roadbook, read the road!

the landscape was barren, just a lot of rock, sharp, angular untamed rock. not long after the start, i heading down a steep slope into what looked like a wide, dry, but very rocky river bed. then up ahead i could see a very smooth looking track, that had been graded ready to be tarmaced, but suddenly out of the glare of the morning sunlight i noticed some frantically waving officials and yellow tape blocking our route! just moving around the obstacle and obviously not paying enough attention, i tried to pass a quad which was being dug out of some really thick mud. seeing what looked like a good alternative route i slowed to ride over the section of baked hard mud, but after travelling only about 6 feet my bike just stopped. this was not baked hard mud at all! this stuff had the consistency of setting concrete. stepping off the bike, which just stood upright, i attempted to move it....it was not going anywhere quickly. then, this familiar figure walked over from the quad that was being dug out to assist my exit, monsiour etienne! in jeans, white shirt and boots he jumped straight in and gave a hand to dig my front wheel out with his bear hands. i was impressed!! together we lifted the front wheel out and onto hard rock, enabling me to ride the bike out.

i felt a bit of idiot as i should have realised the trap and avoided the mud altogether, but it genuinely looked dry! but i was to realise i was not the only one to get stuck......watch and weep, i got off lightly!

i thought i had been transported to another planet, the terrain was so alien to anything i had encountered before, the gently rolling hills of baked fesh fesh, smooth, dark and crusty on the surface with indiscriminate rocks and boulders, gave way to a very soft pinky sand beneath. you had to ride fast enough to stay 'afloat', the moment you slowed the bike just sank up to the swinging arm. but the smooth hills were treacherous as one minute they were gently rolling, the next you were flying through the air and dropping 4 feet, no time to stop, on the contrary you had to accelerate to ensure you landed on the the rear wheel and maintained momentum to prevent the front wheel digging in and sending you over the bars. at one point the ground opened up before me, a 'fuck me!' moment, as i blasted over what must have been an 8 foot hole, trench, ditch, or whatever you want to call it....i thought the front wheel was going to hit the face on the opposite slope, but i cleared it, with the rear wheel taking the brunt of the force, then kicking up and the seat hitting my arse just to remind me..... that hurt!

the only evidence that this place had ever seen rain were the gullies that meandered between the crusty hills, bizarre really..... i was fascinated by the landscape..... but i was also sad that this land that had never seen man, certainly not in or on a motorised vehicle, was being ripped up by this motorcade.....the evidence of our passing would remain for many years to come.

i found myself drifting into an almost auto pilot state, every now and then seeing glimpses of other riders. the heat was bearable, may have been acclimatising, but i think the pacific side of the andes was a good deal cooler - 38-42c rather than 48-52c, still bloody hot really!!

i found myself in a distant group of riders, sometimes passing and sometimes being passed, at one point we road across a wide plain, probably spread out over a km or so , picking out our own route as we neared the end of the special, counting down the last 50km or so.

hitting the road for the liaison, i teamed up with a peruvian rider i'd met a few days earlier. few words exchanged, there was a mutual understanding, respect, support for one another. filthy, tired yet exhilarated, relieved that we had just completed another day of the dakar, another stage closer to lima..... i'd never expected to reach this stage...... and in daylight..... today was a great day!!

then out of the blue, only a few hundred meters from the roadside, i recognised a feature i had seen 16 years ago, a 30 foot sculpture of a hand rising out of the desert! i'd been on a motorbike then too, but travelling in the opposite direction; it was a roadbike, i think yamaha, with no idea whether it had oil in the engine, water in the radiator, or tyres that were safe to ride! i was riding in convoy with my great friend chris haw, uni house mate john penhale and a group of israeli travellers. we were living in the trailer of a big american truck being driven by an argentinian hippy on his route from texas to tierra del fuego.....good times ; ))

the road to antofagasta was not particularly exciting, but i was enjoying the fact that i was going to arrive in the bivouac in daylight, the first time in a number of days; i don't think arriving on rest day counted ; )) the landscape was just barren, rocky desert, the towns we passed through, just sprawling into the smoggy, dusty horizon, black smoke pouring out from the factory chimneys.....

the road book made no sense as we passed through antofagasta, but between us we kept trundling along until we saw the police and a huge gathering of supporters lining up the final route to the bivouac.

i had arrived....

the sun still had not set!!