The first "real" dirtbike adventure

So I wanted to capture this while the details were relatively fresh in my mind, but unfortunately I've slept a number of times since then, now I'm trying to scoop out a less fuzzy picture of what happened. With that caveat in mind, please enjoy my mostly first hand account of what was the neatest thing I've done in Madagascar since coming here.

Sunday started early. Way too early. Up and at 'em and a pot of fresh coffee on the brewer I hopped in the shower quick. Record time was made showering, it's amazing I came out clean. By this point the growing excitement meant that I likely could've done without the coffee. Down goes the first two cups, into the friends truck to the grocery store for some much needed supplies. "Damn this silly grocery trip, I should be RIDING", "WHY am I making delicious protein pancakes when I could be riding?", "Why are we sitting around talking when we could be riding?", "OH GOD WE'RE GOING RIDING! IM SO EXCITED", pretty much covers off the remainder of the morning.

Sort out the new gear, take care of the most important part of the ride first. Stickering up the bike appropriately.

Gotta represent the club.

It might be a bike - but you still have to be proud.

Stickers taken care of, it was time to actually gear up. Queue the butterflies. I'd never ridden offroad for any great length of time before. Luckily my nervousness was quickly gobbled up by the eager excitement to finally get to see some of the country side. Led by an intrepid long time riding roommate, we're briefed on the route. "Skip the main road by skirting the plant site railroad, ride cross country briefly, hop back onto the mainroad outside town, grab gas, and then head down the road to Tana for 20K before we hit the "real" trails.", awesome. Shit eating grins in place, the bikes are fired up before I know it and the three of us are on the road.

200 feet out of camp the first problem hits me. Why is the bike so slow? I'm hard on the throttle in first gear and it seems to not be pulling. I can't have gotten that fat on my rotation, could I? ... I mean the deep fried turkey and baking was good, but I ate that much? No... no way, well, I suppose there was the skittles, and the halloween candy, and... look down, realize you're dragging the rear brake with your riding boot... mentally slap oneself in the face and hammer down, there, that's better.

A hop, skip, and a jump North of site and we're skirting around the rail road tracks to avoid the first of many police check stops you'd run into if you take the road. Not that we're doing anything illegal, just that it very much simplifies ones day if you don't have to explain to a bunch of guys with guns why you don't want to pay them any money. :)

While coming around the corner of the tracks I notice our guide, Ian, is stopped waiting for us. "So this was a bit of a main route after the tracks went in, so to stop cars from using it they cut in a bunch of deep ditches.", he smiles. Nice. 10 minutes into dirt biking and I'm clearing some very deep ditches, at the time I remember them being quite intimidating, in reality I'm just a sissy. Feeling pretty awesome about myself and starting to get more comfortable in the saddle I'm having a good time sliding the rear of the bike around in the sandy trail. There's just something about rolling into the throttle and gently hooning a bike around in the dirt that is entirely too much fun.

I look up, huge grin, Ian is stopped again. This time in front of a water crossing, well, I think, I guess there is no time like the present to get comfortable with this riding thing. Nobody told me that you should lift your feet up when going through a foot of water, and why would I come to that logical conclusion on my own? That'd be entirely too intelligent. Across the 50 feet of water I go, odd, my feet are soaked, oh god! My pants are soaked! My fellow riders seem to be laughing uncontrollably. Hmmm... I've obviously done something wrong here, but I made it across without falling.

A couple more water obstacles (feet up this time), and some more sand hooliganry - yes that's a word, not really - and we're popping out onto the main road at a Shell station of all things. Yes, you can buy watered down Vpower in Madagascar. Pretty hilarious how universal Shell seems to be. The bikes topped off after our brief gas stop and we're ready to hop on the road. Ian briefs us, "It's up the road a ways towards Tana and then we turn left. This road can be a bit scary, so be careful, stay to the right, and watch your mirrors for guys that are going to come flying by."

Look down, check that your clodhoppers aren't dragging the brake, slowly release the clutch and feel the clutch start to grab, roll into the throttle ever so slightly and finish releasing the clutch and we're off. Second gear, more throttle, third gear, 250CC's of fury howling and a new grin forming, grab the clutch for the shift to fourth and, OH DEAR LORD THAT POTHOLE IS THE SIZE OF PLUTO. A quick lean and we've avoided the Hino sized obstacle. My attention is focused now, and I spend the next twenty minutes marveling at the fairly nicely paved, beautifully twisty road surface.

Cruising on the black top through a mix of semi-tropical, slightly arid forests mixed with the sights and sounds of a developing country is something that will always stick with me. It finally felt like I was actually doing some exploring, like even though I'd been here a year I was finally getting to see the "real" Madagascar. Passing through various highway side villages, coming over the tops of rolling hills to see beautiful landscapes, gorgeous rivers, smiling people, it was just.. excellent. Part of me is upset that I didn't have the foresight to bring my GoPro or take any pictures, but another part is happy that I didn't have a camera to worry about, all I had to do was soak it all in and keep the bike on the road. What an experience.

Take a quick left coming up hill and we're slowing down and turning off the road into a dirt path. I guess this must be the place. A few hundred meters off the road and we come to a power line corridor, or what passes for one in Madagascar, "watch out for the cables sticking out of the ground and follow me!", Ian warns, and off we go.

Riding some hilly, harder pack trail stuff is also quite fun. It feels good to be "in control" of something and communicating with a machine again in a way similar to racing. While I'm not going particularly fast, and I'm not out to win anything, I'm still digging into my concentration and paying close attention to what the bike is communicating back to me. It's that seat of the pants feel you get, something that all racers are familiar with, awesome.

Clearing some obstacles, hopping some hills, and generally having a grand old time we come across some denser bush and Ian steers us in that direction. In the mountain bike world we're now riding what most people refer to as single track. Just enough room for people to ride single file through a snake-like forested trail that winds it's way in and around the foothills. We've had some rain lately so everything is more green than normal, and I mean GREEN.

The semi-flourescent foliage is sort of unbelievable at first. It's like living in a photo that someone has cranked the contrast in, at times the greeness of it all is just unbelievable. The foliage is an assortment of all sorts of interesting plants that aren't quite like anything you see at home. There's evergreen varieties but with alien like leaves, regular bushy leafy things but with the added bonus of having microscopic velcro like grabber-onner things (technical term), and occasionally beautiful bushes full of various colours of flower. Occasionally I have to check my awe at the door and remember not to fall off my bike.

20 minutes into the trail, things start to open up a bit and all of the sudden we pass a few people who have been walking the trail carrying loads. And I'm talking big loads. Think a 5'6" Malagasy fellow carrying a 3ft diameter, 8 foot long bundle of sticks, and the guy couldn't have weighed more than 100lbs. Wow. A few hundred feet up from those dedicated folk we pop out onto a larger dirt road across from what looks like a hilltop settlement, complete with a bunch of young kids running around having a grand old time.

These kids are immediately amused by the three Vazah riding motorcycles and starting hooting and hollaring in our direction, smiling and running around. We wave, honk the horns, and head West down the dirt road. Up ahead Ian has stopped on the side of the road next to the river.

Now this next bit is the first time on the ride I remember that I had a phone and I could take some shots, I even grabbed a video! The video is a bit interesting but more than the footage what I like is the awe in my voice. I was totally blown away by the beauty of the ride thus far, the diversity of the people and their living situations, just.. everything. So, sorry for sounding a wee bit excited.

The riverbank just off the dirt path. Check out the green, and the cultivation.

Looking West down the dirt road. We initially came from the East. About 300 meters East of here is the little village I was talking about. Out of respect, I didn't snap any photos of their village.

Horrible Selfie looking West onto the river with the railroad bridge in the background. The village is just left of my giant head.

A nicer shot without my face in it. :)

Looking East up the road. Village is in the bushes just up the road.

Obligatory bike shot, the Kinlon gang. You can see the sort of stuff we rode through, look at the green. It's more dense than that in most places on the trail.

Click the play button the below to see the video.

This is a horrible zoomed in iPhone shot of the gentlemen pushing their barges up stream in a couple of feet of water. This weekend I will bring my real camera, promise. :)

After standing around chatting for a bit we realized one very important thing, it is much, much, MUCH sweatier when you stop riding. Now dripping, it was time to hop back onto the bikes and head back into the bush for some more exciting trail riding. This time heading deeper into some more bushier stuff we were getting into much more rutted, technical riding. This meant not as much time to concentrate on the beauty and much more time spent not falling off your bike. Also good fun!

Now, I'm sure the stuff we were riding would be nothing to the experienced rider but it was sure challenging and exciting to me and the other non-offroad fellow that was with us. Ian was gobbling it up like it was no big deal but Phil and I were grinning ear to ear from the challenge. Between water filled 12-18" deep ruts, washed out trail, mud, and the occasional hard pack fast bit it was great fun!

Once again, our fearless guide Ian was stopped up ahead on the trail, this time at the foot of a very steep hill. I distinctly remember feeling a tinge of dread thinking he was going to be crazy enough to suggest we ride up the hill, but luckily he suggested we hike it. After climbing what was a very steep hill, steep enough that if you reached out horizontally while standing straight up you could touch the hill with your elbows, we were rewarded with an incredible view of the surroundings. Hills, palm trees, and the plant site. Check out a few of the shots I remembered to take.

That's the plant site in the background, and an old palm tree farm we're heading towards on the bikes.

Another horrible zoomed in shot of site. This is max zoom on the iPhone, sorry for the pixelation. :)

The cool part about an iPhone, the easy to shoot panoramas. Taken from the top of the hill. The left is where we came from, the right was where we were headed.

A flower at the base of a small tree at the top of the hill.

Getting ready to head back out, you can see the hill we climbed to the right. (Obligatory NASCC shot)

Oh no! It's dirty!!!

A view back up from whence we came.

 MORE VIDEO - a quick view of the top of the hill.

This was to be the last real stop of the days ride. At this point we were about two hours in and all getting pretty exhausted from the totally awesome trail riding thus far. Next up was heading out into the palm tree forest onto some more hardpacked stuff for some quick hooning around.

A quick shot of the entrance to the "batcave". A neat corridor of trees.

Some ripping through the tress brought us to a bit of a dead end where I promptly got stuck in the mud for the first time. Nothing that copious amounts of throttle, grunting, and pushing couldn't fix! Zipping in between the trees, enjoying the trails, being amazed by the rows and rows of palm trees, and mostly importantly loving the shade they create, I look up to see Ian and Phil stopped on the side of the trail presumably waiting for me. Low and behold, they've stumbled onto some free range piggies. I'm sure there was an owner somewhere around but these fellas were out all on their own, we couldn't locate a human.

Baby bacon. Cute, but tasty.

That marked the last shot I got on the days ride, after the piggies we all agreed it was time to head back to camp and grab a beer. Riding our way back out the bush we found our way to the power line corridor and hopped back onto the highway back to Toamasina. The way back was just as incredible as the way there, the road is remarkably well paved despite various massive potholes, so some careful fun was definitely had.

Over the river and through the woods to the beer house we went. Safe and sound back at the Tiki Bar in camp, a beer was had, a Formula 1 race was watched, and a hell of a day was ended. This weekend promises to hold another exciting ride, what a lucky fellow I am!