Paris Dakar

Ross did go ahead, but we found out later it was not directly to Mudgee. The library staff showed him a map of the area, which indicated a dirt road, he had not been on before and he was compelled, as GS riders are, to give it a go. After all, the road was there.


Now I told Alan to ride in front so that I would not leave him in my smoke, but when he got to a side road that had an arrow that said Mudgee he took it and kept riding.

I caught up to him and said 30 bloody k of dirt, we are on road bikes, are you mad? Alan just grinned, dropped his visor and gunned the Kwaka. I was left looking at a cloud of dust. This was turning into an every man for himself trip. Alan had never taken the blue one on a dirt road before and thought it was only 13 k and it would be fun.

So here I was eating dust and thinking do I turn back to the carefully researched newly-sealed road and cruise my new very expensive road machine to Mudgee, or follow this idiot and pretend that just because the Duke has high bars it could be ridden like a scrambler. As each k passed I could feel the life of the tyres being reduced as huge pieces fell off. One of the potholes was so big Alan could have been in it and I would not have known.

And after the dust came the rain.