|
enduro
news |
|
Liz Millet |
|
Stage 3 - 100 miles of Libyan sand fields and sand dunes. No escape route. The satellite phone works, I checked that, and I have strapped an extra 3 litres of water to the rear mudguard. I feel nervous. Last year, I suffered engine failure right in the middle of this vast area, and then problems with the satellite phone (entirely my fault) meant that for an hour or so, I thought I might not see civilisation again. This year, the motorbike and I are better prepared. First away, I soon leave the palm trees and the other competitors, and head alone into the high dunes. This area has some of the highest dunes of the Sahara, some of the king dunes must be nearly 1000 feet high. Once out of sight of the others, I relax, stopping on top of every fourth or fifth dune to pick my line. At 40 miles, a check point where I have a compulsory 15-minute rest. I can hear the other motorbikes in the distance. I looked at my watch; pleased I was still the lead motorbike. The lead car caught me up, this was good for me, I had tracks to follow, which meant I could read the sand conditions more easily, and with midday approaching, there would be some contrast in the sand. There have been times when there has been no contrast. The sky is blue, and the sand yellow. Just two colours, you can't tell how fast you are travelling, or whether you are going up or down, you can't see the tops of the dunes, the experience can be nauseating. 80 miles another checkpoint and I still have not caught the car, but have increased my lead on the other bikes. I double-check my compass, the lead car has driven up a 300-foot dune, I didn't want to follow unless I am convinced it is right. It is, so I open the throttle and the bike flies up the dune, I back off as I reach the top, and find my self on a high sand plateau. I've geared the bike down; top speed 80mph, is fast enough for me, but two more cars overtake me. They are built to race; no way can I catch them.
Stage 8 - the last day, 100 miles of fast piste, then 80 miles of pipeline road. My overall lead 45 minutes in front of the lead car, hours ahead of the other bikes, they having incurred penalties for not making checkpoints in the time allowance. I am now nursing the bike, the chain needs to be thrown away, and the tyres are scrubbed out, the mousses, old to start with seem soft. I have heard too many stories of mousses breaking up on prolonged fast track sections; I am carrying my spare chain, but don't want to put it on as the teeth on the sprockets look like needles. I have no support vehicle, so no nightly mousse changes for me. I have a box of spares, carried by the organisers and that is it. I need to keep my speed down although the temptation to go flat out keeps pestering me. These events are won in the sand dunes, lost on the piste, an apt time to remind myself of this. I started the day not expecting to retain my lead. However, luck stayed with me, and it wasn't until the last 60 miles did the Range Rover catch me, and they were travelling at maximum speed. The dust kicked up was so thick; I had to stop for a minute. Navigation errors early in their day had cost them their win. We had raced through the dunes and deserts of Libya, a route of 1,200 miles, designed to test navigation and riding skills; my race time over the course of 8 days was 28hrs 42 minutes, only 18 minutes quicker than my nearest rival! Delighted, my first ever outright win and an over large cup to transport back home. Pictures by www.marthonrally.com Related items |
Stage
4 - 60 miles of sand dunes. A short day, I should have time to service
the bike on my return to the bivouac. My start time, 8.00am., a
beautiful time of day. The air cool, and the sand firm, my navigation
was spot on. I started the day first, and finished first. My first ever
stage win.