STAGE 6, Fesh fesh excavator and Crazy huh?.

STAGE 6, ANTOFAGASTA - IQUIQUE

Liaison sections: 369 km
Special stage: 319 k
Total: 788 km



I was constantly faced with the hassles of doing the Dakar, it is not straightforward like you may think. I had only a short sleep before Day 6 then headed over to the gas station, I chose to miss the rider’s briefing to get gas. Once again they did not take credit cards, it was too early to find a bank open and there was no ATM machine… Luckily some generous BMW riders who were following the Dakar pulled up and paid for my gas! I expressed my sincere thanks and offered to pay them back. They said “ no way, we sponsor a Honda team!” Thanks guys so much.


It was hotter than hell, very dusty and we hit Fesh fesh right off the start. Three quads were barreling along trying to pass each other, I came across number #297 Jose Salaverry who crashed after pulling off the track trying to pass his fellow quad riders. It was a gruesome sight, he fell into a gully and his leg was in trouble, he couldn’t move. I held up his head, gave him some water and called for the medical helicopter. The helicopter arrived quickly. Jose kept calling out’ God, I am alive!” I tried to calm him down and that it was not a serious injury, but I lied, his leg looked bad. he wanted to look at it but I didn’t let him because I thought he would pass-out making things worse. Once the Doctors arrived I continued on. 

The course was laced with Fesh Fesh and all the Waypoints were at the top of hills making it more difficult to reach them. I climbed the hills at full speed, I began to question if this was actually possible, but there was no going back. I thought I had taken on the wrong challenge for myself and in the wrong place, I had serious doubts about whether I could finish. I wished I had about 10 days of endurocross training under my belt.

It was obvious I had to adapt and learn on the fly.

I saw a mountain of Fesh Fesh ahead of me, I chose a line outside of the worn tracks when suddenly a Yamaha rider flew by trying to make it to the top, I watched him climb until he fell, he flew one way his bike went another and his bike tumbled all the down to the bottom. It was like someone put a bike through a shredder. It looked like a crushed soda can.

I found a solid line beside the rut and made my way up until I hit a rock and dropped into the deep rut. My bike and I slid backwards about 40 to 50 meters, I was on my back, I had Fesh fesh and gas in my mouth, the silt was almost a knee deep when I stood in it, half of my bike was buried in dust.

I figured there is no way I can go up so I dragged my bike back down another 10 metres. Over the iritrack speaker someone kept asking if I was ok but I couldn’t reply, my microphone was broken so I pressed the green button on it. I started my bike but when I let out the clutch it dug deeper into the pit of dust. I had to dig my bike out of the hole it was in. There were 2 other bike and quad stuck on the same hill. It took me 3 hours to dig it out, I was becoming very hot and tired. Two helicopters hovered overhead kicking up more dust. They dropped a rope offered to lift my bike out of the hole but I waved him off, I didn’t want to receive help.

I cursed my friend Boldbaatar as he convinced me, while we were training for the Dakar in the Asralt Mountains, that I would not encounter such difficult conditions. I was angry and used his name in vain as I thought I would not be in this situation if I knew what I was getting in to. My other friend Lkhamaa told me the Dakar is like 200 or 300 kilometers of enduro cross every day. 

Once I extracted myself out of the deep rut I tried once more to climb as far as I could. I needed to reach the waypoint at the top. I finally managed to reach the summit by dumping the clutch and throwing my bike up the hill to get WP. I was happy to get to the top but it was now dark and there were 50 kms to the finish. I kept riding slowly passing stranded competitors along the way.

Day 6 claimed a number of competitors, I was one of the last 4 riders to keep moving towards the finish, there was numbers, 123, 124, and 134.

I fell many, many times onto the desert floor, the conditions were simply too tough in my mind. Many times the bike was on the ground and I rolled to the bottom of a hill. In cases like these I would sit and rest a bit, gain some energy to walk back up to lift my bike up and try and continue, sometimes it was so steep I had to take a run at the hill and jump and grab the rear tire in order to keep from sliding back down.


My training program prior to the Dakar was my saving grace, I did 10 km mountain runs, I went to the gym and rode the Rally Mongolia. This was nothing compared to a day in this Dakar. I told myself there was no way I was quitting as I trained very hard to prepare for this Dakar even though I was very tired. I knew that many of my friends had confidence in me and had offered their support and I wanted to show them I could finish the Dakar Rally. I knew that many people back in Mongolia were staying awake all night following my progress and worrying about me. I felt their positive energy and this energy lifted my spirits and gave me strength to lift up my bike and carry on. I am not sure how but I felt stronger physically when I thought about my family and friends back home. 


One thing I now know is the human spirit is very strong, humans are capable of handling sleepless nights and carrying on when we are faced with doing something important such as living your life.


In one of these reflective moments I was sitting in the sand resting when 2 men approached me, they had a flashlight and pointed it in my face. They were from a television crew and filmed me all covered in dirt, I would have wiped my face had I known. They guided to the camp where i rested along with the crews of 2 Renault trucks and a buggy. We all had to wait until sunrise, so we had a small party together, we grilled meat and drank some hot wine, the tv crew treated us very well, I felt rested and nourished. Once dawn broke I said my farewells and continued on down the course. I thought it would be easy but I was mistaken, fog rolled in and I couldn’t see more than 20 metres in front of me. I rode to the top of a hill but couldn’t see much of anything. I took my helmet off and listened, I heard bikes and a buggy and headed for the sound, another 4.5 kms and met the track, I crossed the finish line! Tomorrow is the rest day!

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