There is no bigger name in off-road motorsport than the Dakar. This is by far the most demanding and gruelling event on the annual rally and endurance calendar. This year saw the 26th Dakar Rally start in Peru on January 5th 2013. Each day consists of several hundred kilometres of riding including a special stage. During these special stages, the riders are timed and these contribute to the overall standings. Take note that some special stages were in excess of 300km and the total riding for some days were as far as 850km! To see these professionals race during these stages is unbelievable and not many riders can stay on a off-road bike whilst navigating at speeds in excess of 150km/h!
This year there were 449 cars, 183 bikes, 153 quads and 75 trucks. Those who regularly read OutdoorUAE magazine would be aware that Sebastian Husseini from Seb Sports was going to participate on his custom-built quad, and has kept us up-to-date with his training and preparation for this big event. Lesser known to most readers is James West, the 37-year-old British rider who resides here in the UAE and runs Emirates Bike Tours. James is well known for his ability to ride very fast on sand and some big names in the industry have come to UAE to be coached by James. (Some reckon James might very well be the fastest rider in the world on sand.)
James managed to obtain a sponsorship with Sherco Rally Factory Components this year and his lifelong dream to ride the Dakar became a reality. Here is James’ take on his first Dakar adventure:
Day 1:
Finally after mounds of paper work and checks, we were off to a podium start. We were told to take off our helmets and enjoy the view on the podium, but all I wanted to do was ride the bike.
It was a 250km liaison to the start which was lined with people all waving and cheering. The prologue was only 30km and then it was time to think strategy. I wasn’t going to go crazy, the special stage was 30km and the first time on the bike in sand. At the start off this first special stage, I saw all the other world-renowned riders and my heart was doing its best not to bounce out of my chest.
Then the countdown and I drop the clutch! The bike felt good and for the 30km I didn’t see any other riders and my start position was in the 30s, which was comfortable for me.
Day 2:
It started easy with lots of big open gravel sections and small patches of fesh fesh (fine sand) before we entered the dunes. I made good time in the dunes and overtook many riders, but then the bike started giving me problems. I had to do several stops for “makeshift repairs” and during the last 170km, I had no exhaust. This lost me a lot of time and many riders overtook me as the bike had limited power. My ears also took a tremendous beating and they only stopped ringing eight days later! The meals, refreshments and the other bivouac facilities were excellent and in abundance – very well-organised.
Day3:
I was ready to get moving up the ladder, but 20km into stage, the bike started losing power. My mechanic told me if this happens, the fuel injection is blocked, so I needed to stop and change the injector, of which I had spares on the bike. The blockage is due to getting fuel from the drums on some stages and sometimes there is crap in the bottom of the drum.
I had to do this twice on the stage and each time was almost a complete strip down just to reach the fuel injection system.
The terrain on the stage was mountain trails, dunes, through a pass, and followed by a huge descent down on to the beach. The descent was sand, but rocks where everywhere at the bottom. You just pick a line and hope the rider who went through first chose well. I was again passing lots of riders, but as we hit the last 20km of the stage my bike was cutting out again, and rather than replacing the injector, I pressed on burning the clutch which nearly overheated the bike. Once out of the stage, I had to stop again and clean the injector.
Day 4:
It was a dusty start. You could not see more than 2m in front of you and to go fast would have been crazy. You only saw riders that had fallen in corners ahead of you when you actually crash into them. After the dust, it was similar to the Abu Dhabi desert and I started making good time, passing many riders.
This stage also had a breathtaking drop from a plateau to lower ground. Luckily, the base of the descent was a smooth run out and I was doing 100km an hour as I levelled out. Now, we were in riverbeds with big rocks everywhere. I had to react quickly to avoid the rocks and was then followed by a staggered climb out of this canyon and back into the open desert trails.
My bike’s gremlin returned on the special stage and whilst changing the fuel injectors, I saw that the main tank had a fuel leak. Having to improvise by utilising the different tanks on the bike and transferring fuel without pumps was frustrating. Seeing all the riders overtake me and realising that this cannot continue for two weeks was very demoralising.
The bike was running again, but with limited power and for the first time in the race, cars started to overtake me. I finally reached a steep hill and due to the lack of power I was unable to climb it. I was forced to strip down and replace the injector again. It felt like my bike was cursed and losing so much time was not a good feeling. The support from the spectators however was unbelievable and one guy even had lens cleaner with him and cleaned my goggles whilst I was again replacing the injector.
Finally the bike started and I was off with a bang! Then with only 20km to the end of stage, the problem returned. I can’t describe the feeling I had as the bike just died. I sat for five minutes doing nothing and then hit the starter and she fired up! I got going, but only for about a kilometre then it was the same again. By now the beasts of the rally were coming, I could see the double stacks of smoke heading towards me as the first trucks were approaching. I was in a pipeline track in the sand, barely wide enough for a car, with 4ft high sides of soft sand. Then my sentinel buzzer (warning system fitted to vehicles) shouted and as I looked back, there it was, a Tata truck at full power heading towards me. I started waiving my hands frantically as there was no way I could move. They got to around 5m from me and without even letting off the power, they blasted through the sand’s side walls and out of the track. I was ready to ditch the bike and run! After that episode, the bike started and I managed to have a “good” run to the finish of the stage.
Day 5:
Through the night, the team completely stripped down my fuel system and replaced everything and also fitted a second fuel pump to the tank system. The stage was only 136km today as we had to cross into Chile later. The stage was very fast and technical with rock climbs surrounded by fesh fesh and then twisting valleys of more fesh fesh. Visibility was so bad and I came to the conclusion that when you can’t see anything, you should just stop. It wasn’t a great stage for me in the way of speed, but I had zero bike issues and had high hopes for the next day.
Day 6:
The stage started with lots of dust and other tracks as this area was used by lots of people on dirt bikes and quads. Just as the trails opened, I turned a corner and there was my teammate Alan Duclos, who had been running in the top 15. He stood with no helmet and a chain in his hand. He has snapped a chain and had no link splitter. As this race is about getting everyone to the finish, I stopped to help and get the problem sorted. We used what we could to break open the links, but it took time and eventually we were good to go. The rest of the stage was a mix of dunes and fast open tracks into twisting river beds, but we both made it.
The Dakar was already taking its toll and by the end of day six, more than twenty riders were already out of the race.
Day 7:
The start of our marathon stage, and this meant that we had to do it on our own with no afterhours assistance from the pit crew. We crossed into Argentina passing over the Andes at more than 13,000ft. We started the 417km liaison at 4:30 a.m. and prepared for the cold crossing, not one part of any rider’s skin was showing with everyone the size of a Michelin man due to the warm kit. By 10:00 a.m., we had to remove 70 per cent of our gear as the temperature increased as we descended down the Andes.
The 218km stage started with wide open gravel tracks at full throttle and speeds of 140km/h, followed by slower twisting and very rocky trails. I was having a good stage until around 200km when, coming into a corner, I lost the front of the bike as I was breaking hard. The fall was okay as I landed on top of the bike, but it was the momentum that carried us over an edge into a 15ft gully. I was lucky to be lying on the bike like a surf board as we went over and landed unscathed. My road book tower was a little bent, but the bike started and I rode back onto the stage. I finished 37th on the day, after losing 17 places due to fall.
After dinner, we were given the very sad news that a young French rider was killed on the liaison section.
During the night, the heavens opened and between the pounding rain on the roof, mobile phones going off, farting and snoring of 150 riders in a confined space, you can imagine how much sleep we had. The next morning, the bags under my eyes looked like I had been on a two-week blow-out in Vegas.
Day 8:
We had news that the first stage of the day had been cancelled due to the heavy rain; as the route was impossible. My bike was running fine, but a bee sting under my chin strap gave me something to think about for the rest of the day. On all these liaisons sections, there were people everywhere cheering you on and waiving as we passed. You just had to wave back as there were even people in the dark early hours, that could only see your light, but they still cheered as you go past. It was amazing!
The day’s special stage included some riverbeds that were easy till the rain came. I got lost and ended up on a football field and was amazed to see several of the top riders with me. I did some re-calculations and got back on track riding down mountain sides where only mountain goats would dare to wonder. I was lucky to stay on the bike and managed to end 33rd for the day. The sad part was that by the time I got lost, after the last checkpoint, I was 7th overall for the stage.
One of our teammates, Frank, had bike trouble and was towed in the dark for 220km with his brakes overheating on the twisty downhill causing him to crash a few times. He managed to make it to the bivouac by 1:00 a.m. I take my hat off to Frank for being a true warrior! The reward for us in Tuchman was that we would not be in the bivouac, but our team had arranged for us to overnight in a hotel! I think I used all the hot water in the hotel just for my shower.
Day 9:
The rest day went by very quick but it was great to catch up with other riders and drivers to hear their stories. By now thousands of books could be written on tales of this Dakar.
Day 10 (Stage 9):
We started in the dark at 4:30 a.m. The liaison was a 176km with the special stage of 593km followed by an 83km liaison to the bivouac at Cordoba. This would be our longest day – a whopping 852km!
About 120km into the special stage, I was behind a quad and waiting for a safe place to get past him. Then I saw my chance, the trail went sharp left and there was a big grass section between the trail that I could cut and get in front. Wrong! There was a huge gully and it was in the road book, but I was more concentrated on the getting past him that I did not pay attention to it.
I hit all anchors and nearly stopped the bike. I just needed another foot or so and I would have been okay, but I dropped sideways into the gully. It was a slow drop so the bike and I were okay. The only problem was how to get out. I made over a dozen attempts to get out and it just wasn’t happening, then a quad pulled up and looked down, it was fellow rider from the UAE Sebastian Husseini! He asked me if I needed help and I told him I’m okay and that he was to carry on. I think Sebastian could see that it wasn’t going to happen without help and he jumped down and grabbed the bike. We managed to drag the bike out on a section that was “not too steep,” so a big thanks to Sebastian for this! If not, I might still have been down there!
Day 11 (Stage 10):
The first 20km were open fast gravel roads then we got back into the twisty narrower trails, the dust was crazy and you had to be crazy to try and overtake. 120km into the stage, my front brake had gone. I carried on with caution but my heart rate must have been off the scales with the speed I was coming into corners, it wasn’t long before I had overheated the rear brake and that was gone too. I had no option but to cruise the rest of the 357km stage.
I made it back and the last two days were full of stories of riders crashing, bad overshooting corners, fellow countryman Stan Watt had a big crash knocking himself unconscious and destroying the front of the bike and dislocating his shoulder. But he finished the stage and was to carry on, another true Dakar hero! It was a bad day for David Castau who hit a cow on the stage, dislocating his shoulder and ending his Dakar.
Day 12 (Stage 11):
I was told this year was the year of desert and dunes, but so far I hadn’t seen much. This is because I live in the land of never-ending dunes. However, today’s stage was to be “the dune stage.” I was pumped at the start of the stage and ready to make up some places as I was in the 60s and it would be great to get below 50. The stage started in deep soft shale like gravel with lots of round boulder type rocks dotted around. Navigating through it was tricky and you had to keep speed. I had just passed one of the top riders when bang, I had hit a rock hidden under the gravel. It flicked me sideways into the path of the other rider who had no way of avoiding me. We were both at speed when it happened and a collision was inevitable. We were both thrown from the bikes and they barrel rolled into the rocks. We were both okay, but my bike was not so lucky, I had smashed the carbon fiber tank badly on the right and fuel was pouring out. I quickly disconnected the tank and tried to limit the loss of fuel.
I got back on the bike, but it wasn’t long before she died again. What I did not realise was that I had damaged the left hand tank too and all the fuel had gone from that one. I racked my brains thinking of ways to sort the problem, but the tank would only hold around a litre of fuel before spilling out of the hole.
I had 200km of the stage to do and getting towed through dunes was not possible on a bike. I was gutted, I turned the tap on for 20secs and it would get me around 10km before cutting out, I did not dare fill more than that for the risk of the bike catching fire. I made it to a road and called the organisers to find out where I was and they directed me to the bivouac as my only option was to retire. My head was going crazy with the thoughts of letting the team, my friends and family down.
I had had so many text and emails about forgetting about my result and just finishing the race. I had so wanted to complete this race and have a finisher’s medal, but it was not meant to be this time!
I had a few aches and pains starting, so I visited the medical tent. I didn’t know it, but I had hit my chin hard in the crash and sliced through my tongue resulting in three stitches. My hip and leg were x-rayed and I had big hematoma in them. My leg had started to seize up and was getting difficult to bend and straighten. There was also a problem with my shoulder which is being sorted in Dubai as you read this. So I didn’t get into dunes and my race was over, 6334km completed out of the 8,420km race.
Even with all the problems I had, I still enjoyed the race and it was great to be part of a great team like Sherco Croco Aventures and to have been part of this amazing race.
Hopefully I will be back next year, but for now it is back to my wife, who is about to go into labour any day now.
From all of us here in the UAE, well done James and we’re proud of you!
Ride safe
John Basson
