Friendship, is a relative term, its definition spans the full spectrum of acquaintance. From bosom buddies to, the barely tolerable. Even, with such a broad understanding, of the term, it will require, a stretch of the imagination to consider today’s team, as a tight knit unit, or indeed as friends. Given that most have only just met. The varying backgrounds, and diverse interests. And arguably, the biggest cause for dissension; remains, the KTM riders, inability to recognize, and accept, superior quality.

I started the trip, with the belief that; soon everyone would be friends, but at least, I, was friends with everyone. Until, we hit the sand! I had to endure, All manor of looks and chirps. Until I asked JP to show them the “chicken run”! Back at the Lodge, Lexy bore her bruised shins, with an accusatory glance, directed at me.

Fortunately for me, An old adage, suggests, “you can pick your nose, and you can pick your friends. But, you can’t eat your friends!”

None the less, we share a “common cause”, which bridges differences and unites, almost instantly. More or less!

Sometimes you just gotta, “smile and wave”, and focus on the inherent good in people, the route and the bike.

The most important thing is to have a good relationship with the bike… you have to understand what she wants. I think of a motorcycle as a woman, and I know that sounds silly, but it’s true.
Valentino Rossi

Well valentino, I believe, the most important thing is, the overall experience!

Gerhard, volunteered his opinion, “I love this, you can’t risk focusing, on anything else, but, the 200m in front of you”.

The boys with the really big gonads, say that at extremely high speeds, it’s not uncommon to experience “tunnel vision”. Donovan insists, that he can be counted in this category, not by virtue of speed, but simply that he is built “in proportion!”
I, on the other hand, am not ashamed to admit, that I’ve never experienced that (even if then, by a scientific process of deduction, one is able to establish the size of my “nether region”). But – I did go fast enough on the gravel portion, to not be able to, safely, gaze down at my speedometer. To feel the rush of adrenaline, and to brush with, the thrill of uncertainty! There is, a magnified euphoria, in the exigency of endangerment, an uncomplicated purity, in the risk of peril. It seems, the faster I go, the more the world slows around me. Perhaps it’s more, that I’m actually – taking the time to catch up!
JP, scoffs at my definition of speed, “we were going so slow, I thought we were going back in time.”
Derek too, could not resist the temptation, “I looked at my speedo, it was actually turning back. A couple more trips like this, and my bike will be on Zero again.” I did notice however, that, they still had to fill up with petrol, same as me, none the less. Thereby, debunking both their theories; surely if you were going back in time, or your speedo was turning back, you would then not be using petrol??

It seems they both ascribe to, the insightful, words of Mario Andrette,
“if you think, you’ve got things under control, you’re going too slow!”.

Honestly though, there is an unrivaled beauty in Gravel riding. Far different from tar, in that, it constantly offers one, a myriad of alternative lines. Each, with its own set of obstacles, constraints and restraints. Your mind is constantly calculating, speed, power, control and momentum. Instantly processing geometry, curves, trajectory and flow. Evaluating alternative lines, deleting the less favorable, and committing all (bike, rider, future and present) to the one.
All the while trying to take in, at least some, of the splendor and scenery of Gods own creation. A vocation Donovan discovered, was indeed possible. When some of the chaps were discussing scenery, fauna and flora, they had seen. He lamented, “I didn’t even know, you could do that. I’m so busy focusing on the road, I don’t see anything else.”

We arrive, at Gunyatoo, well spent. Each recounting their stories of, close calls, adventure and fun.

Upon Nico’s request, JP retells his story of “Smiggles”. But with less uncontrollable laughter, than the last time. I consider it must be due to one of the following reasons;
-JP is less intoxicated.
-the audience is more sober, or
-we are all, simply, too tired to laugh.
As I observe, each one, unceremoniously sneak off too bed, I resolve it must be the latter.