Can you teach an old dog new tricks? Well, the answer’s yes as far as John McAvoy is concerned, after his recent roll around in the mud on some enduro bikes…
Since the very beginning of my time as a motorcyclist way back in the mid-80s I’ve only every ridden on the road or track, and thanks to the very privileged position I’ve been in for the past near 20 years, I’ve been lucky enough to have ridden enough different bikes, roads and tracks to last a hundred lifetimes, but I’d never ridden off-road until last year when I spent a few hours doing a very basic taster session with Vanessa Ruck, aka ‘The Girl on a Bike’.
When I say ‘basic’, I mean basic for someone who knows what they’re doing, but I had no clue, like literally no clue. So, for me the experience of riding on a loose surface was both terrifying and humbling, and I felt utterly out of my depth, which is the underlying reason why I left that day wanting another go. There was a part of me – the stubborn part – which didn’t want to leave it at that, knowing that there was so much more to learn. Then there was a part of me that even though I’d just had a tiny glimpse into the disciplines and skills needed to make a bike go through mud, gravel, streams, inclines and ditches. I could see just how many of them could better me as a rider on the road and track, especially the discipline of not panicking.
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So, when the call came from Bruce that there was a place on the Alex Snow GasGas Off-Road experience at the Sweet Lamb Farm Off-Road Centre in Wales, I immediately said yes without knowing who Alex Snow was or what the Sweet Lamb Farm was, and only a vague awareness of what GasGas are, but I did know that Wales is mostly wilderness and forests and therefore is to off-road riding what a race track is to a road rider – heaven. Straightaway I hit the internet and looked up the Alex Snow website to suss out what I’d just agreed to, and indeed it looked just like what I needed; a day out with a small group of equally inexperienced people in the safe hands of a former pro-enduro rider.
In keeping with who the day is pitched at, everything is provided by the school, so you literally just have to show up, which itself on reflection is a really good prelude to the day. As you drive to the Sweet Lamb farm, the closer you get, the better the roads are, and the more spectacular the scenery gets, and the further away from normal, everyday life you get. When you arrive at the centre, it’s about another mile down a dirt track, and by the time you get to the lodge/workshop, you lose your mobile phone signal to complete your total removal from whatever is normal for you. It’s just you, the wilderness, some motorbikes and literally nothing else, with zero contact with the world.
I was already in love with it before I’d even got on a bike. Let’s just say that the off-road equivalent of a racetrack paddock has much better views; nobody in hi-viz jackets checking your pass/wrist band; no strict timetable for the day; no extensive lists of do’s and don’ts; and no overpriced grot-burger cafés. The fee for the experience day is all-inclusive, so food and drink are provided along with all the kit and fuel – more on that later.
I got changed into my 80s disco-themed riding kit, comforted by the fact that everyone else was wearing the same, and the chances of bumping into anyone I knew – or anyone at all for that matter – where we were going were basically zero. The amount of body armour was also reassuring, if a little concerning, as a reminder of the basic premise of off-road riding – expect to fall off, which goes against every instinct as a road rider, and which is the first battle with myself that I had to overcome. Focusing on what to do instead of what might happen was by far the hardest part of the day for me and took some time to get over.
Alex took us through some of the basic stuff, like how to stand on the bike, use the footpegs, lever and throttle, but refreshingly it wasn’t information overload. The emphasis and assumption is that if you’ve showed up for the day, you’ve got a degree of bike control and a willingness and capacity to learn, so you’re on a bike pretty quickly, and following Alex around the practice area next to the centre to give him a chance to see what he’s dealing with, and for us to get a feel for the bikes.
He starts by riding over some mounds which are maybe three or four feet high, and in and out of a ditch which immediate puts me miles out of my comfort zone and questioning the wisdom of accepting the offer from Bruce to come to the school. This is just the loosener, and I’m nowhere near feeling like I’ve got any control over the bike, but I’m here now, and the option of bailing out is just not there, so I persevere, and in doing so learn my first big lesson. You’ve got to remember that the BEST way to learn is by doing, and to do that you have to stick with it, and repeat.
Alex is clearly as good a teacher as he is an off-road rider, because it must be obvious to him that I’m not comfortable, so round and round we go over the same jumps and ditches until almost at the same moment the thought enters my head that actually I’m starting to enjoy this instead of fear it, he declares we’re all good to go, and we leave the practice area and into the wilderness, whereupon I’m immediately ripped out of the comfort zone which I’d got myself into and back to the earlier mindset of fear and apprehension.
It was a cycle that continued all morning in so much as I’d just start to get comfortable with the terrain and the challenges that Alex was setting. We would stop and maybe be riding up the side of a really boggy/slippery grass hill or down a really narrow, overgrown steep hill on loose slate a few times, then he’d up the ante and take us to a deep river to ride through, and you’re right back to feeling vulnerable and more than a bit inadequate again – something I reflected on during the break for lunch.
I told myself that I needed to be patient and ignore the beating that my ego was taking. I am so used to being competent on Tarmac, competent enough to be entrusted with hugely expensive motorcycles and often quite risky assignments by Bruce, but that the feeling of not being on the same level I usually am, was tough to accept. However, the pause from all the action at lunch gave me the chance to realise the obvious and accept that I am a complete novice at off-roading, and that it would take time – more time than just one day in Wales – to even vaguely begin on the path to competency. There is no substitute for practice, and there are no shortcuts, and I really would like to become at least in tune with the bike rather than just its passenger.
Releasing myself from any self-imposed expectations and realising that off-road riding requires a totally different set of skills that despite my years of experience I didn’t have, was the best thing I did all day. As well as a bit of a refuel for the body, the break in activity allowed me a mental reset which would make all the difference in the afternoon.
No doubt while I was heavily distracted all morning by the fear of falling and feeling of incompetency, I was without realising it apparently learning some of the techniques and tips that Alex was teaching. The afternoon felt so much easier and much faster. The penny dropped when at the top of a particularly challenging steep, long and rocky climb, I spotted a rock which I just instinctively and without thinking, just headed directly for because I wanted to jump over it, instead of trying to navigate around, which had been my default up to then.
The direct/jumping approach was much smoother, faster and enjoyable and spontaneous, just like popping a cheeky wheelie during a ride on the road. Something switched on inside my head, and that same much more positive, relaxed approach carried on all afternoon, not always with the results I’d hope for, but more often than not I caught myself thinking, ‘This is amazing’ where before all I could think was, ‘Is it nearly over yet?’
Near the end of the day we rode up to the top of a huge hill, and instead of following Alex, everyone took their own route to the top. I chose the steepest route because to me that was the hardest way to the top, and I wanted to take it on. Others took a rocky route, or a boggy route, but we all got to the top, and we all were treated to the most incredible view for miles and miles in all directions.
The ride back to the lodge would be relatively simple (and fast) from there, so this felt like the final reward for the day’s efforts. It occurred to me that of all the thousands of bikes I’ve ridden over the years, there isn’t a single one that could bring me to that place where I was having my mind blown by nature –In fact, I wouldn’t even have been able to walk there. A whole new world of places and experiences opened up to me right then with that realisation.
GasGas provide the centre with their full range of enduro bikes, and we could pick any we wanted for the day, and swop during the day. Given that I’m the least qualified person to make any judgement or comment on an off-road bike’s performance, I won’t try and pretend that I can. However, what I can is say that I tried the 250cc four-stroke, 250cc two-stroke and 300cc two-stroke bikes, and my favourite was the 300cc two-stroke. I think I preferred it because it felt like it had a bit more punch at the bottom of its revs for better traction but not so much that it was overwhelming, plus it felt a little bit lighter and easier to chuck about, which helped mask my inadequacies.
I was expecting a physical battering that day, but what I actually got was an emotional rollercoaster. There were plenty of times during the day that I could easily have called time, but I knew if I’d done that, I would have regretted it instantly for not having a go at that river crossing, or steep climb. Then when you overcome those fears, and by hook or by crook get to the top of the hill, the high is as high as any I’ve had at high speed on a track.
The drive home was long enough to reflect on the day, and I realised that while I’m still a complete novice, I’m also completely hooked, and want to do more. There is no question that the skills you have to develop to ride off-road are transferable to road and track riding. Of course, the benefit of riding a bike with very low levels of grip is obvious, but for me, it’s as much to do with keeping a level head in a stressful situation, and not panicking. Once you commit to a climb or river crossing, more often than not, the plan you had in your head at the start goes out the window pretty soon after you set off, and you get into a constant cycle of improvisation and crisis management as the alternative is a trip over the handlebars if you panic or mentally lock up.
The other big attraction to wanting to do more is the amount it costs compared to a track day, is day and night. A track day can cost around £500 all in once you factor in the entry cost plus tyres, fuel, accommodation and getting the bike to the track – and that’s not including the cost of the bike and any crash damage. If you’re lucky and there’re no red flags you should get at best eight 20-minute sessions, so about 2-2.5 hours on track.
If you give Alex Snow £495, he’ll take you off-roading for TWO DAYS, lend you his bikes and riding kit, plus he’ll give you the fuel, tyres, breakfast, lunch and dinner, and accommodation for one night in that price. He’ll even give you some discount if you bring enough mates with you. The only thing is, you have to be prepared to leave your ego at home, be patient and persevere, and if you can do that, the sense of satisfaction of trying something different and learning new skills is massive, but when you factor in the ‘Wow’ factor of the scenery and places that an off-road bike can take you to, the paddock of a race track looks incredibly plain.
Don’t for one second think I’m getting all Ewan and Charley, and because I’ve had one good day off-road that I’m done with road bikes and I’m off to do the Dakar, because I’m not. What’s happened is I’ve had my horizons broadened by something which has been hiding in plain sight for all these years, and while I regret not dabbling off-road sooner, I’m so glad I’ve found it now. Better late than never.
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