WARNING: Contains content which mothers may find disturbing...
In hindsight it was inevitable. Bigger bike (compared to what I've previously ridden off-road), heavily laden and enthusiasm exceeding skill and experience. If it hadn't happened on that corner it would have happened on another and in many respects I'm lucky it wasn't worse. Not that this means I'm glad it happened.
Friday 5th March, 2014
It had been an awesome day. Lots of penguins at Punto Tombo and I was getting (over) confident on the gravel roads that I was travelling on. But I was having a lot of fun. [4].
I had actually been thinking that even though it was a Friday at 6pm, there wasn't anywhere I would rather be (i.e. a pub). Half an hour later that would all change. I went over a slight rise, the road went down and then bent to the right and split. I thought that the track on the left wasn't a track and tried to keep right (and on my side of the road) but didn't make the corner and went into some rough ground in between the two tracks. The front wheel hit a boulder, throwing me off and sending the bike end-over-end down the track, coming to rest on its side.
I got up (good first start), lifted the bike up and then went about collecting the bits of bike that had come off (screen, mirror) and the contents of my tank bag which had exploded, scattering books and cables across the trail.
Then it was a case of assessing the immediate damage:
So I take off the skid plate and find that the crash protection on the right hand side had bent such that it had deformed the cover plate of the crank case, breaking through the seal and letting oil leak out. The question was whether to glue it and hope to stem the flow of oil, or whether this would make it impossible to do a longer term repair. However, if I didn't glue it, how would I get it to a garage to make a longer term repair? I also didn't know what internal damage might have been caused as a result of the deformation of the crank casing, or could be caused if I tried riding the bike with it in its current condition. And I didn't know whether the bike would start if I managed to fix the leaks.
Put the tent up (I'm definitely here for the night and it's getting dark), move everything off the road and get into my sleeping bag to have a think about what to do in the morning, in the full awareness that the adrenaline would have worn off by then and I'd likely feel rubbish. No food. I'm not sure if any fuel has leaked out and getting to Camarones (where the next petrol station is) was going to be tight as it was, so don't want to siphon any out of the tank, and also don't want to use more water than I need to, not knowing how long it's going to take to get the bike going, or if not, when the next vehicle is going to come down the road (there hasn't been a car since I came off). Get the sat phone out and check it works.
I'm relatively unscathed. My right wrist hurts but I don't think I've broken anything [1], and although weaker is usable (I take some ibuprofen to take the edge off and to help me sleep) and have some small grazes. I'm glad I'm wearing the kit I am [2].
Try and sleep (the wind picks up making this difficult) and mull over my options for the next day - keeping my fingers crossed that the bike (now having become a "she") will be going come tomorrow night. The thing that haunts me is that although I have a plan, if it doesn't work, and I can't start the bike, then the whole adventure may have come to an ignoble and expensive end on an anonymous stretch of road, less than a week after I started. Even El Poderoso 2 lasted longer than that...
Saturday 6th March 2014
Alarm goes off at 6 but only really get going at 7. Decide against calling anyone in the UK. They wouldn't be able to do anything to help and all I'd be doing would be worrying people, potentially unnecessarily. Overnight I've resolved to glue the gap using the liquid metal Araldite that Fabrice recommended I take [3]. I lay the bike on its side and clean the area as best I can and then try and fill the gaps around the bolt that's been pushed into the casing. It takes an hour to set and four to set hard, so after an hour I put the bike upright (I'm still concerned about losing fuel) and after three hours try putting some oil in (using a plastic bag as an improvised funnel) and check for leaks. It looks okay. After four hours top up and try the engine. It starts (hurray!) but there's a slight leak, so stop the engine and use more glue to try and stop where I think the leak is coming from. Two hours later try again and, although there seems to be a very slight weeping of oil, it seems to be holding.
In the intervening time I've had a go at some of the other bits. Bending the foot-peg back into place as best I can, gaffer taping the wing mirror back on and dismantling the left hand pannier to get the unlocking mechanism to work again (one of the metal levers had been bent out of place).
Then load the bike up (now with the skid plate and screen strapped on top of the tail bag) at which point she promptly falls over (my fault for not loading her up on level ground). Unpack, lift up and load again and tentatively head on to Camarones 60km away, all on ripio.
It's about 3pm by now. In the 21 hours between coming off the bike and heading on I've seen three vehicles, the first being at 1030 this morning.
Arrive at Camarones, refuel the bike, check for oil leaks (none - phew) and refuel myself (three litres of fluids and food). The bike seems to be be holding together, although the front fairing of the bike has been bent back which is throwing the headlight up significantly. Night riding won't be possible for a while. Tarmac now back to Ruta 3 and then south through Comodoro Rivadavia where I happen to pass a Yamaha service centre. The only thing is tomorrow is a Sunday and I don't want to hang around for another day to see if they can help, so carry on to Rata Tilly and check into a motel for the night.
Rio Gallegos is the next decent sized town on the way down and the bike holds up until then, although as I pull into the city the gearbox starts to stick. I take it in to be fixed at SM Motos and I think probably just in time.
And the experience has made me a less exuberant rider but also gave me more confident that I could cope with most things that the trip was likely to throw at me.
NOTES:
1. I've broken the scaphoid in my left wrist twice, the second time I didn't realise it was broken for about seven months, at which point it needed surgery to be rejoined. I'd rather not have a matching scar on my right wrist!
2. Some people have likened me to an astronaut with my kit, I think it's primarily because of the Leatt neck brace that I've got. However, I'm glad I've got it. I was in a car park on Peninsula Valdes when a guy pulled up in a car next to me. He pointed at the neck brace, which was hanging off a wing mirror at the time and said that they were a good bit of kit and had saved his life. I thought that it was just a saying until he pointed out that he was parked in the disabled spot, told me he'd had a motocross accident and had broken his back in three places, and proceeded to get a wheelchair out from where the passenger seat would be to join his son in the museum.
3. Memo to self - drop off multiple cases of beer to Fabrice next time you're in London.
4. This video doesn't actually have the crash in it. Sorry to disappoint those wanting a bit of "You've been framed" style entertainment. I do have it on video, I'm just not ready to share it...
In hindsight it was inevitable. Bigger bike (compared to what I've previously ridden off-road), heavily laden and enthusiasm exceeding skill and experience. If it hadn't happened on that corner it would have happened on another and in many respects I'm lucky it wasn't worse. Not that this means I'm glad it happened.
Friday 5th March, 2014
It had been an awesome day. Lots of penguins at Punto Tombo and I was getting (over) confident on the gravel roads that I was travelling on. But I was having a lot of fun. [4].
Not a view you ever want to see
I got up (good first start), lifted the bike up and then went about collecting the bits of bike that had come off (screen, mirror) and the contents of my tank bag which had exploded, scattering books and cables across the trail.
Then it was a case of assessing the immediate damage:
- Leaking oil, not sure about other fluids (i.e. primarily worried about petrol, but also water). It looked to be out of the bottom of the engine case but the skid plate (now very buckled) was in the way, so I'd have to take that off before I can work out what's happened.
- Right foot-peg bent.
- Various "cosmetic" damage (screen, wing mirror etc).
- Left pannier mechanism not working.
So I take off the skid plate and find that the crash protection on the right hand side had bent such that it had deformed the cover plate of the crank case, breaking through the seal and letting oil leak out. The question was whether to glue it and hope to stem the flow of oil, or whether this would make it impossible to do a longer term repair. However, if I didn't glue it, how would I get it to a garage to make a longer term repair? I also didn't know what internal damage might have been caused as a result of the deformation of the crank casing, or could be caused if I tried riding the bike with it in its current condition. And I didn't know whether the bike would start if I managed to fix the leaks.Put the tent up (I'm definitely here for the night and it's getting dark), move everything off the road and get into my sleeping bag to have a think about what to do in the morning, in the full awareness that the adrenaline would have worn off by then and I'd likely feel rubbish. No food. I'm not sure if any fuel has leaked out and getting to Camarones (where the next petrol station is) was going to be tight as it was, so don't want to siphon any out of the tank, and also don't want to use more water than I need to, not knowing how long it's going to take to get the bike going, or if not, when the next vehicle is going to come down the road (there hasn't been a car since I came off). Get the sat phone out and check it works.I'm relatively unscathed. My right wrist hurts but I don't think I've broken anything [1], and although weaker is usable (I take some ibuprofen to take the edge off and to help me sleep) and have some small grazes. I'm glad I'm wearing the kit I am [2].
Try and sleep (the wind picks up making this difficult) and mull over my options for the next day - keeping my fingers crossed that the bike (now having become a "she") will be going come tomorrow night. The thing that haunts me is that although I have a plan, if it doesn't work, and I can't start the bike, then the whole adventure may have come to an ignoble and expensive end on an anonymous stretch of road, less than a week after I started. Even El Poderoso 2 lasted longer than that...
Saturday 6th March 2014
Alarm goes off at 6 but only really get going at 7. Decide against calling anyone in the UK. They wouldn't be able to do anything to help and all I'd be doing would be worrying people, potentially unnecessarily. Overnight I've resolved to glue the gap using the liquid metal Araldite that Fabrice recommended I take [3]. I lay the bike on its side and clean the area as best I can and then try and fill the gaps around the bolt that's been pushed into the casing. It takes an hour to set and four to set hard, so after an hour I put the bike upright (I'm still concerned about losing fuel) and after three hours try putting some oil in (using a plastic bag as an improvised funnel) and check for leaks. It looks okay. After four hours top up and try the engine. It starts (hurray!) but there's a slight leak, so stop the engine and use more glue to try and stop where I think the leak is coming from. Two hours later try again and, although there seems to be a very slight weeping of oil, it seems to be holding.
How to top up the oil with no funnel. Surprisingly effective!
In the intervening time I've had a go at some of the other bits. Bending the foot-peg back into place as best I can, gaffer taping the wing mirror back on and dismantling the left hand pannier to get the unlocking mechanism to work again (one of the metal levers had been bent out of place).
Then load the bike up (now with the skid plate and screen strapped on top of the tail bag) at which point she promptly falls over (my fault for not loading her up on level ground). Unpack, lift up and load again and tentatively head on to Camarones 60km away, all on ripio.
It's about 3pm by now. In the 21 hours between coming off the bike and heading on I've seen three vehicles, the first being at 1030 this morning.
Arrive at Camarones, refuel the bike, check for oil leaks (none - phew) and refuel myself (three litres of fluids and food). The bike seems to be be holding together, although the front fairing of the bike has been bent back which is throwing the headlight up significantly. Night riding won't be possible for a while. Tarmac now back to Ruta 3 and then south through Comodoro Rivadavia where I happen to pass a Yamaha service centre. The only thing is tomorrow is a Sunday and I don't want to hang around for another day to see if they can help, so carry on to Rata Tilly and check into a motel for the night.
Rio Gallegos is the next decent sized town on the way down and the bike holds up until then, although as I pull into the city the gearbox starts to stick. I take it in to be fixed at SM Motos and I think probably just in time.
And the experience has made me a less exuberant rider but also gave me more confident that I could cope with most things that the trip was likely to throw at me.
NOTES:
1. I've broken the scaphoid in my left wrist twice, the second time I didn't realise it was broken for about seven months, at which point it needed surgery to be rejoined. I'd rather not have a matching scar on my right wrist!
2. Some people have likened me to an astronaut with my kit, I think it's primarily because of the Leatt neck brace that I've got. However, I'm glad I've got it. I was in a car park on Peninsula Valdes when a guy pulled up in a car next to me. He pointed at the neck brace, which was hanging off a wing mirror at the time and said that they were a good bit of kit and had saved his life. I thought that it was just a saying until he pointed out that he was parked in the disabled spot, told me he'd had a motocross accident and had broken his back in three places, and proceeded to get a wheelchair out from where the passenger seat would be to join his son in the museum.
3. Memo to self - drop off multiple cases of beer to Fabrice next time you're in London.
4. This video doesn't actually have the crash in it. Sorry to disappoint those wanting a bit of "You've been framed" style entertainment. I do have it on video, I'm just not ready to share it...
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