Uncontrollable Inexperienced Enthusiasm
Words by Swells
A late start and a stack while getting loose in the dirt... |
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Fight night... Or perhaps fight mid-morning, the Pacquiao vs Mayweather fight was set to start at 11:00 pm. After considering our options, the best on the table was to take advantage of the hotel satellite TV. We all woke latish ate breakfast then set about random odd jobs building excitement energy in anticipation for the fight.
We had a big ride ahead of us but jimmy the ever pragmatic host saw it not as a problem and had organised some local cakes for us to eat on the road side as we didn't really have time to stop. He pointed the direction to me, and once again to Dan - who has proven the most trusted with directions. Warning of the coming dangers found in another treacherous mountain pass, stating that the support vehicle would be a while behind only making slow progress, we where free to lead the way, free of our friendly oppressor.
A no fuss road cut its way through the flat arid terrain to slowly wind its way to the base of mountain range. A gaggle of wild trucks appeared as entertaining obstacles, we made our way around taking chances on gravel shoulders, one way bridges and long straights. As we skirted along the bottom of the mountain range I felt as though we were waiting for the road to build enough courage before heading up. But up we went, gaining altitude came in forms of multiple switch back with varying road surfaces. We stopped to eat cakes and watch the trucks prow the low lands heading our way. Cakes where quickly shoved into face holes and we hit the road keeping ahead of the trucks.
Switch backs continued and we were soon riding at the highest altitude I had happen to notice on the trip thus far. We peaked at 1,420 meters and while I kept an eye on the barometric pressure the carburetor fed engine on the Sherpa never felt as though it was effected. We road along the mountain ridge for a while cresting various peaks along its course. Trees had returned clinging to the side of the mountain but not dense enough to hide the view of the lands bellow. Even up here work teams went about repair and upgrade work on the road surface.
Racing along the tight winding roads I was stoked to be at ease with the pace. Having only ridden a post bike before the trip I was all too aware of my motorcycle inexperience. Throughout the Australian leg I struggled to keep up, I wasn't even comfortable riding at 100 k's an hour, not that I let on. But now I felt like a competent adventure bike rider, keeping a fast pace with my more experienced comrades. It was at this point Dan pulled of the perfectly good black top road and drifted around the inside of a corner on the gravel shoulder... Not just once but continued to do it at 90 - 100 km/hr. Once again I was schooled in the meaning of rad...
I was inspired by Dan’s gnarly drifting, slowly I crept on to the dirt, squeezing the throttle, feeling the rear tire step out slightly, then immediately backing off. Stoked. I was feeling confident as I hit the inside dirt of a corner with Johnny Bang only slightly ahead. Leaning in, twisting the throttle, the Sherpa stepped out. I hung on to the slide this time, hopping Johnny Bang would notice my insane radness. It happens pretty quick – one second, Radness the next second, I was laying across the hangers as the bike slapped from side to side, then I was lying in the dirt, on a random mountain road in Myanmar. Johnny Bang didn’t see me hit the deck and sped of chasing Dan. I picked my self up, checking my bits, making sure all my guts were still inside. Picked the Sherpa up and climb back on. It was a while before I caught up to the team. Johnny Bang didn’t even see me get sideways… next time.
Once again the setting sun welcomed us into our destination. Tomorrow we would leave Myanmar and he's into India. A mountain range loomed in the distance promising a new level of adventure...
We had a big ride ahead of us but jimmy the ever pragmatic host saw it not as a problem and had organised some local cakes for us to eat on the road side as we didn't really have time to stop. He pointed the direction to me, and once again to Dan - who has proven the most trusted with directions. Warning of the coming dangers found in another treacherous mountain pass, stating that the support vehicle would be a while behind only making slow progress, we where free to lead the way, free of our friendly oppressor.
A no fuss road cut its way through the flat arid terrain to slowly wind its way to the base of mountain range. A gaggle of wild trucks appeared as entertaining obstacles, we made our way around taking chances on gravel shoulders, one way bridges and long straights. As we skirted along the bottom of the mountain range I felt as though we were waiting for the road to build enough courage before heading up. But up we went, gaining altitude came in forms of multiple switch back with varying road surfaces. We stopped to eat cakes and watch the trucks prow the low lands heading our way. Cakes where quickly shoved into face holes and we hit the road keeping ahead of the trucks.
Switch backs continued and we were soon riding at the highest altitude I had happen to notice on the trip thus far. We peaked at 1,420 meters and while I kept an eye on the barometric pressure the carburetor fed engine on the Sherpa never felt as though it was effected. We road along the mountain ridge for a while cresting various peaks along its course. Trees had returned clinging to the side of the mountain but not dense enough to hide the view of the lands bellow. Even up here work teams went about repair and upgrade work on the road surface.
Racing along the tight winding roads I was stoked to be at ease with the pace. Having only ridden a post bike before the trip I was all too aware of my motorcycle inexperience. Throughout the Australian leg I struggled to keep up, I wasn't even comfortable riding at 100 k's an hour, not that I let on. But now I felt like a competent adventure bike rider, keeping a fast pace with my more experienced comrades. It was at this point Dan pulled of the perfectly good black top road and drifted around the inside of a corner on the gravel shoulder... Not just once but continued to do it at 90 - 100 km/hr. Once again I was schooled in the meaning of rad...
I was inspired by Dan’s gnarly drifting, slowly I crept on to the dirt, squeezing the throttle, feeling the rear tire step out slightly, then immediately backing off. Stoked. I was feeling confident as I hit the inside dirt of a corner with Johnny Bang only slightly ahead. Leaning in, twisting the throttle, the Sherpa stepped out. I hung on to the slide this time, hopping Johnny Bang would notice my insane radness. It happens pretty quick – one second, Radness the next second, I was laying across the hangers as the bike slapped from side to side, then I was lying in the dirt, on a random mountain road in Myanmar. Johnny Bang didn’t see me hit the deck and sped of chasing Dan. I picked my self up, checking my bits, making sure all my guts were still inside. Picked the Sherpa up and climb back on. It was a while before I caught up to the team. Johnny Bang didn’t even see me get sideways… next time.
Once again the setting sun welcomed us into our destination. Tomorrow we would leave Myanmar and he's into India. A mountain range loomed in the distance promising a new level of adventure...
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