Belen, Argentina, Day 9 of the 2016 Dakar Race. Just about staying on schedule
Before leaving the viewing position at Cachi, I jumped off a 5 foot wall and twisted my left knee, again. Ouch! I don't have a left cruciate ligament anymore from a previous motorcycling mishap. My party trick is being able to hyper extend it, kind of like Monty Python's Ministry of Funny Walks, except it puts me in excruciating agony. Not nice. It again, became really swollen. Bollox.
I managed to hobble around to pack up my tent and set off. I wear full technical knee braces when riding from the previous knee event, so doped up on pain killers and anti inflammatory tablets, I could still ride.
The Ruta 40 that was now really carved up, in particular because the race cars and trucks had left the dirt road badly rutted. I overtook most of the cars and motorcycle spectators who had set off ahead of me too
At Cafayatte the pavement started again, which was a relief as I was able to stretch my leg horizontally forward on the front saddle bag that held my wet weather gear.
I intended reaching Belen, which would have involved a couple of hours of night riding. Shortly after passing a small town and with the sun having just set, I was welcomed with the sight of a wicked electric storm in the distance. Upon getting closer I entered a “100% humidity job” ( = a wall of rain). Stuff that for a game of soldiers; I'll return back to the last town, even if I have to shelter the night in someone's doorway, I thought.
I asked a couple of people walking up the street if there was somewhere I could stay. They really had never met a British person before! Would have stayed to chat, but had to pop some more ibuprofen first and I really was hungry too! One of the things with being marginally proficient with a gps unit is that if everything goes to plan, I don’t really talk to many people as there’s no need to ask directions. Now, with this change of plan, I actually had to speak with someone! Heaven forbid! Very different to 2001, pre-gps and digital maps/ mapping file sharing websites.
There was a small hospetaje in the town that welcomed me and the bike was even allowed in the owner's garage. The people were so trusting, I could have ridden off at dawn the next morning without paying, but that wouldn't have been right. So I just left the agreed rent on my room table and still hobbling, wheeled the bike out.
The ride to Belen was clear and fresh and things warmed up nicely. I ended up at the bridge over a dried out river bed at Belen in the late morning. People everywhere. Wow! I parked up the bike on the pavement (American = sidewalk… In England we drive on the road and walk on the pavement) and immediately got chatting to a couple of Harley Davidson riders from Scandinavia (Per from Sweden and Antti from Finland) on their own Trans Americas trip.
The following pictures are pretty much in the order they were taken. There were a lot of comings and goings under the bridge (racing) and over the bridge (to/from the bivouac) of race cars, quads, buggies, bikes and race trucks. I really lost any overview of what was going on.
A Toyota race car getting close and personal to the spectators
Alain Duclos from France on a Sherco who was 42nd overall
Robbie Gordon giving a photographer reason to jump out the way!
Laia Sanz being chased down
Chlym offering shade to a weary spectator
Me and Per getting interviewed by a local TV station!
5th truck, driven by Ton van Genugten from the Netherlands
Number 132, Spain’s José García Domínguez's bike and only BMW in the race, strung out below a helicopter heading back to the bivouac. Usually this sight makes your stomach churn because it means an injured (or worse) rider. Jose was fine and just got lost, so he pushed his emergency button. For him, zee race voz over!
An interesting view from above, of a racer’s cockpit. At a pub meeting in England of a certain brand of motorcycle many years ago, I asked the owner of a very large displacement bike if he knew what all the buttons on his dash and bars did, and if he pressed them all at once, would the bike explode
No chance of such disrespect when you’re confronted with someone who is the real deal!
Little and large? A 125 2 smoke from France and a 450 4 stroke from Peru. I think it must be the angle the bikes are standing as both riders (according to their profiles on the official Dakar website) are of similar size/weight. Both reached the podium at Rosario
The bikes may not have been too reliable, but the Honda ladies were the prettiest!
Giving Chris Cork from the UK a wave on the way back to the bivouac. He seemed distracted.
Per and Antti and their HDs on the local campsite. Top lads
Not sure what this can-can is supposed to achieve, but you can see I’m not weight bearing my left leg! On the right of the picture is Joshua from the United States who was cruising around on a BMW (800GS?) if I recall correctly. The guy on the left: I can’t remember for the life of me where he's from or who he is. In the background there's a 950/990 KTM, so I assume that was his bike. Muy bad!
We ate well that night. There was a fruit and veg salesman on the main road who also sold fresh meat. Joshua’s superior Spanish persuaded him to cook us an asado. A great night over beers and chat!