8 responses so far ↓

• 1 dadspurg // Nov 26, 2007 at 9:50 pm

  Hello. I would like to see TRM do more articles on recreational trail type riding. Specifically interesting places to ride off road. An example would be the Michigan State/Fed park system trails. THanks/Ron

• 2 stinkywheels // Dec 3, 2007 at 5:01 pm

  Love the Endurocross articles. I don’t agree that trials bikes should be banned from competition but embraced. Should the trials tires on Knights bike be banned? No mention was made of them or on the rear of Charlie Williams bike. I’m a trials, trail, MX and street rider so it’s not like I have a bias, but I have learned more from riding trials than all other disciplines combined.

• 3 davet916 // Dec 4, 2007 at 4:34 pm

  I have to admit my guilt of not visiting the website since last November when I used it to renew my subscription. Wow, what a difference a year makes. I love the new site, so far. I’m still finding out where everything is. I subscribed to TRM four or five years ago and after the first year I emailed Paul regarding the lack of trail riding articles. He sent me a great email back and thanked me for reminding him of why he started riding in the first place. It wasn’t long after that that Charlie Williams articles on his Mexico trip appeared. I mentioned ride reports on different trails to Paul and he said it was a great idea but that some of the trails being ridden could not be reported on because they’re probably illegal (Super Secret Spots). Others won’t be reported on because you don’t want the world finding out about where you ride and the next time you go it’s like a freeway.

  I’m here in Northern California and, though I don’t ride enduros myself, a lot of guys I’ve ridden with do. We have a bunch of them here but, unlike yours, ours are pretty dry, dusty and rocky. Some have been called on account of an early or late snow. I think we’re District 36 or 37 here. Maybe some of our guys would like to contribute to the mag on our enduros.

  Reading the above article, I just found out that the magazine is regional. I’m not new to the idea as we have NorCal and SoCal rivalries all the time and mostly in good sport. I wonder if Paul has put any thought into a left coast, on-line issue?

  Dave

• 4 trailridercharlie // Feb 12, 2008 at 7:21 am

  Hey Stinky: The trials tire issues is a simple one, I’ll explain: It is the Maxxis Endurocross. Mazzis does not make a trials tier…. Soooo that’s where it comes from.
  The trials tires work awesome and better yet, they wont tear up trails as badly as a spinning knobbie, run them!
  Hey Dave :916
  Thanks for the nice letter, I agree with Clipper about not wanting to give away some one’s secret stash of trails in a national magazine or web site. But, I think you could make friends with another reader here on this web site and they could show you their stash of trails.
  When ever I go on a trip, I hustle up a friend of the magazine and find a guide to the area I want to ride.
  Seek out local clubs and make new friends, besides thats half the fun is making new friends and contacts. Then when it is your turn, you can weed out the kooks and share your trails with like minded riders.
  Be cool
  Charlie

• 5 HTR1 // Apr 1, 2008 at 11:38 pm

  Hey Charlie thanks for the interesting articles.
  You give us guys something to think about.
  Check out my link to the vintage iron. I posted my websites and will be getting geared up for another season of riding.

  Valley Branch postponed due to bad weather . gee go figure. So we kept peddling to Judha.

  We rode the ABATE Property in Indiana and had made fun in 5 hours of rain. We had a good time despite the weather. This week we will be at Redbird SRA doing a season opener.
  April 5th 2008. Need Motorcyclist to show up.
  New Trail sections for single track. Cheers w Beers

• 6 EVILDINGO // Sep 12, 2008 at 10:50 pm

  I woke at 1:00 am before the alarm went off. Feeling excited and still half asleep I made a coffee and got dressed. Knowing Mick would be in the same frame of mind and keen to get cracking, I kissed my new son Mavrik and my Wife Katherine. All she said is, “Don’t take any unessery risks” I had fuelled up and packed earlier that day and was set to go. The Andy strap bags where full as. Left hand side had a 10lts fuel, a hootice tarp for bad weather, hunting Knife a towel in case I found a puddle to swim in and a warm parker for cold nights, Right hand side contained 10lts fuel, spare tube, roll of gum leaves for a crap, 5 tent pegs inside a cut down piece of tube, 2 emergency blankets 2 x 1ltt water bottle’s and a small cooking pan. The outer pockets had an extra 1.5 lt water bottle in each side. My burke and wills biker swag was on the carrier and fixed into place with two ockie strap’s, a pair of thongs secured for walking around at night. In front of that was a small bag with limited clothing. 2 t-shirts, 2 pairs of socks, 2 pair of jocks, 1 pair of jeans. The Tank bag full of all kinds of crap, Torch, Leatherman, SAS Survival, Flint, Field guide to bush tucker, bag of dates, sultana’s and sed mix, chewing gum, maps, compass, Some fruit, The pump, spare air filter, Silastic and other tools where in the bash plate. I roll the tanker out of the shed hit the starter, tooted the horn and headed the back way into town. First corner on the dirt was ugly, realizing how much weight was on board it made the bike handle like a bag wet cement, I shortly settled into a nice rhythm reaching North of Gympie to meet up with my partner, No sooner as I pulled up and looked at the time, I was 20 minutes early, I was cold. I had the visor up to stop it fogging, my nose was numb and dripping, my eye’s where watering .I heard Mick’s bike coming down the road he parked beside I could see this smile from ear to ear under the street light, he looked like a chasseur cat. He ask’s “hey where are you going “, that’s when I said to myself, yer where am I going? “dunno” was my answer . “Ok let’s roll” was the reply. This was the begining of day 1.

  The road north was good, although it was ice cold, speed was a little over a hundred kph, I had the heated grips on Hi. We rode into Kilkivan where I stopped, Mick pulled up and asked “All Good”? My reply was “Farkin Freezing” .I let the clutch out again thinking to myself you got to be nuts. After about an hour I was numb and the cold was going through me in waves of shivers, I managed to ignore it until the sun came up. I could see Kangaroo’s feeding along side the roadside in the dawn light and said to myself, I hope they stay out of my way, .400 k’s roll up quickly and fuel light came on, another 55 k’s we hit the 60kph sign on the out skirts of Roma thinking that this is going to be close, cough, cough splutter, the engine stopped and the tank was dry, I found natural and rolled as far as I could, Mick came up behind me and with his foot on my exhaust pushed me into the servo, I fill up with 25lts went in and paid for fuel , grabbed a cup of coffee and a crumbed sausage from the hot box ,talked to a couple of bmw riders and headed out the door.
  The sky’s to the west where black with clouds I followed Mick out of town where he show me some back streets .We jumped the railway and headed in the right direction, The mist was getting heaver and turned into rain, well I am having fun now I though myself. We passed through a few small country towns, one was called Morven I remember that one well. There was something dead and ground into the road. Mick’s back tyre spun up a big peace of it and it landed in my mouth, and it was off, well that crumbed snag wasn’t that bad after all .We pulled into Cooladdi a little old servo standing alone in the middle of no where, ready for a splash and Go. MMM out of fuel so we pulled a tank out of the panniers, with 2lts each headed west. Refuelled at Quilpie and made for Windorah. Pulling into the little old servo and it looked like nothing had change in the last 50 years, I filled the tanks and drank down a can of baked beans in front of some tourist, they ask me if I was hungry or thirsty? I said both, we all had a chuckle. I Walked over to the desk and paid for my fuel, the owner Mervo ask me how much I gave him to my surprise he was totally blind, and again ask me if the change was correct,”that it is I said“ .I thanked him and said I will see you on the way back, his reply was I will keep a Eye out for you, Mick and I laughed, jumped back on our horse’s and headed west, that’s when I started to realize how remote, dry, dead, and unforgiving this land cane be. After about an hour we hit dirt and the bike danced around under me. We rode side by side to avoid dust, looking down at the Speedo we where punching out a pretty good speed, the destination was close I turn to Mick and signalled in a drinking motion, he gave me the thumbs up and I guessed we where heading straight to the pub and do not pass go, and we did just that. First beer didn’t hit the sides but went straight to my head, it was just on dusk, we travelled 1600km in just under 16 hrs .I was feeling a little rooted. We headed over to the park for a camp. I started to unpack, I had shit everywhere it was like a gins camp, Mick on the other hand had already set up his swag and was getting changed. Well it was off to the pub again to grab a steak and vegies couple more stubbies and then we wandered back to camp.

  Day Two. I had a shit night sleep. There was a couple of old farts camped not far away playing country music most of the night and attempted to sing, quite funny, The morning was cold and windy. The two mates next door awoke, had a cough, fart, piss, spit, scratch their ass’s and deliberated over cracking a can of beer. I looked at the pair of them, Hairy bearded, Beer bellied, Hillbillies. I smiled, thinking that they where having the time of there lives and they have probably been doing that for 40 years. Mick had the kettle on, go the “JETBOIL” .Cup of chicken soup and tea was breaky. Packed up and I noticed a weld had broken on the pannier rack that I had made, and there was a small oil leak coming out from the bottom oil filter .So it was of to the servo / workshop for a quick overhaul. With that sorted, there was a few items that I was not going to use so they went into the bin, the towel was cut in half to save space and everything was reshuffled. Happy now, I looked at Mick he was sitting there with a big smile, raring to go. It was10 am, “Ok set sail, West to the never never” .We got to the first sand hill “Big red” I was expecting it to be bigger, but was still wondering how soft the sand was. Never the less charge! up and over, down the other side, I got a quick glimpse of the next dune, couldn’t wait to get there, the next was softer and I was wobbling around a fair bit, I stoped on top. Mainly because I fell over looking at how vast and empty, apart from sand dunes there was only more sand dunes, it was like a big kids sand pit and I was in the middle of it. Been waiting a long time for this and I was in my glory. We battled over a few more dunes and stopped to let pressure out of the tyres, 25 psi was a little much for sand with the load we had on board. I always run ultra heavy tubes, they are 4mm thick and have never got a flat.
  12 psi was where it ended up. We rode for another hour stoped at poeppels corner and chucked a right and headed up the Hay river Track, The fuel load was getting lighter and the front end easer to manage. The track ran along a clay based river bed and I though that we would maybe out the other end before dark. It was good going, motoring north between the dunes until we hit the shot line had to turn east northeast for a 30 or 40ks the sand was deep red and much softer I was working hard.
  We stoped at the blaze tree, Cecil Madigan had marked on a 1939 scientific expedition. I had a blister on my hand as round as a 20 cent piece, mainly formed from the day before riding with numb wet hands with the grip warmer on high. It had burnt the flesh on my throttle palm. We punch on and upwards until we came across a party of four wheels dives spoke to them briefly and told us they where at the blaze tree a few days ago, we fuelled up at dusk. Mick tried to invent the hydrogen cycle by adding 5lt of water to his fuel tank. After realizing what had happened we drained the fuel and now thinking to myself we are now low on water and going to be low on fuel, I did see some Buddies flying from tree to tree, when I knew water must we within 20 miles. But never fear Mick said, “she will be right mate” well with that all sorted I asked, what do you want to do? He said doesn’t worry me, I’ll ride all day and all night. Well I already knew that! I thought to myself ha ha . So we did a few hours desert night riding, now that was fun with all the shadows, until the H.I.D lighting drained the battery so much that the lights where flickering and the CDI was not giving enough spark to run smooth under 4000rpm, and that was to fast for my liking, I had a few scrub excursions until I decided to call it a night around 9 or 9:30 pm. Made a fire for light and a bit of warmth put a can of beans nearer to the heat, rolled out the swag and looked at the stars a fell asleep think there was around 700ks covered. Mick can you confirm this area I don’t have a map with this road on it. ( Its about 500 to the camp we made and 700 all up to Jervious. )

  Day 3, Up early and I was already feeling rooted my hands where a mess and I was limping around, got the last of the water out, Mick made tea and was chomping at the bit,
  I had some tuna and crackers. We set off north looked at a relic bore pump, seen a few old 44 gallon drums laying around on the way to batton hill camp. We Checked in and drained the rest of our fuel into the tanks. The road out was corrugated and straight for to Jervious station, I made it with 3lts of fuel spare, we refuelled I gave my bike the check over, pumped up the tyres and found the pannier rack had broken again. In my condition, There was no way I could get up the Tamimi track and down the canning stock route alone. I remember what Katherine said to me about taking unnecessary risks. This is where I make the decision to leave Mick and head east to Boulia, it was way after lunch and I had another 480ks to go. I pulled out and waved to Mick and he was still smiling, the road was unbelievably straight and very rough. After about 100km I contemplated on turning around but knew that it was not an option, I made it to Boulia at 740pm covering around 700ks for the day. Filled up with water and Fuel had a light dinner. I was totally rooted to really eat anything anyway, I continued the tradition of peeing on my hands every chance I could but could not see a difference. I Lay awake for hours thinking of new direction.

  Day 4. Well with every new plan I suppose you need a new map. I bought a map last night, it was the hole of Queensland, way to many roads there just to start riding,

  I had to make a plan, I had ridden Winton and all the area to the east long time ago. There was nothing to the north, so southeast it is. Well Min Min ruins are on the way out, not much left there but some old booze bottles, Was once a “cob and co” station and hotel. Past that I turned right down the old Cork road.
  I was looking for the Hasting stock route and to join that up with the Jundah road, Sweet how hard could that be. I found old Cork ruins, run down sandstone house in the middle of the back of really nowhere. Took a couple pics, topped up my camel back and headed south. Stoped and looked at my map, no roads where named just doted lines so I thought she’s all good.

  Hour or so later I hit the Diamantina National park, O shit I am way of course and this place is like freaky dead, its dry, flat and lifeless, apart from all the dead cows laying around from drought I have not seen a thing for let me think, well I have not seen a much on the road since we left Birdsville, maybe two cars. I pushed further south until I needed to fuel up. I could smell oil and the wind was howling. I looked down and seen oil everywhere, It had been running out some where onto the bash plate and blowing back onto may back tyre.
  My heart had sunk into my guts and was feeling a little apprehensive, no a lot apprehensive. Well some one will come down this road some day. And if I’m lucky it will be an empty Ute and a esky in the back. I look around the area out the earlier oil leak and it seems to be coming out under the sprocket cover. I removed the cover to find the nut had come off the sprocket shaft lucky it was still in there, that was a short sigh of relief, I wondered if I had a spanner to fit, when I do any work on my bike at home I use the tools that I carry, I remember that the rear axle nut was the same size but didn’t know how the seal was, so I tightened up the nut flogged the lock washer down over the nut with my Leatherman and a rock, gave it a wash down with fuel put the rest of that drum into my tank, tapped up a lose muffler hoped for the best and kept riding. Stop a few times to check, looked like a little oil escaping maybe or just the remanence of the old leak, by that time it was getting late in the arvo so I was pushing hard, I become desensitise to speed, I went into a dip and it was sharp, half way up the other side I was on the front wheel and it look inevitable to what was going to happen next, as I came out of the dip I was as far back on the bike as I could be, still looking at the ground over the front wheel, Speedo was still saying 140 and the wind was pushing me sideways I managed to recover and when I got back horizontal my ass was on top of the swag and my feet where up on top of my toolboxes on the bash plate. It looked like I learnt a new style of riding from the circus. Are you taking any risks I asked myself, Na but I better pull up and have a smoke and clean the shit out of my pants when I stop shaking? It was low lying country and there was nothing in 360 degrees, and I mean nothing but a shimmer on the horizon, the wind had blown the top soil away and all that remained was little pebbles of iron stone that left a shimmer over the ground like a Luna landscape or I was on some kind of drug. I grabbed out the map and looked at it. Good for a geographical view of the towns in Queensland, but apart from that the only thing I thought it was good for was wiping my ass, all I knew I was 550km from Boulia. I measured with a pebble and I had a long way to go. Next question was Fuel, well see what happens, I rode on, the wind was howling, the bull dust was deep and the wind was making my bike lean to one side, funny feeling but I was not laughing much. To west there was a storm brewing and it was black as, I reckon this country would be like knee deep soup if it rained. The fuel light came back on and I ran the girl dry, visibility was down to 30 meters at time’s my funnel was a old map that I rolled up and gave her the last Ten litres, I had drank all but a litre of water, thinking man I to getting be close I just need to find a sign that said Windorah under 200ks. I rolled out of there and eventually into the servo at Windorah and fuel up everything. Mervo gave me a lend of a drill and some tek screws and I fixed the exhaust , chewed down the last meat pie, made a coffee realizing that was breakfast I ordered a coke and packet of chips Merv laugh and ask me was that for lunch, and I could have a mars bar for tea, got a scene of humour the old bugger. He Asked me where I was heading, I reckon Charleville via Adavale. Straight run. No good there he tells me, they haven’t use that road this century don’t try it, and the watch the roo’s they are thick at night. Well I was not felling up to anymore challenge’s today so looks like its staying on the black stuff. Yep lots of roo’s, and it now dark and spiting rain as I roll into Quilpie I am fucked over a 1100k and more moments than doctor Who ever had, I parked under the window eve at the pub walked in for a beer. I asked where I could camp, didn’t get much of an answer so I went out the front and watched the rainfall. Laid my head back on the rail, some old timer came out of the bar ask me how I was going, yer mate I am good, do you know any where else I can camp around here?. Yes my Name Is Terry Bertilli I own a chip van and I am going to the Birdsville races and we are camped up at the show grounds up the end of the street. How cool is that I thought. I Finished that stubbie and head up the road, pulled in under what must be the pavilion, there are about 30 people there, I didn’t say any thing just kicked off my boots put on a pair of jeans, a jacket rolled out my swag, got out my cooker boil some water and made a cup of soup, This one guy came over and said, Hey mate we are BBQ come down. I declined and had a quick chat, Turns out they are from Coonamble NSW. A pro Rodeo mob heading to the races. Well at least there not showies I think to my self as I crawl in to my swag the rain is really pissing down, lighting, thunder, and still that wind blowing. I crash in a heap.

  Day 5. I woke to hear the rain just bucketing down, my muscles are sore from riding and the weather is making my old war wounds ake, I just lay here and think about the next destination. I stick my head out of the swag and easy it’s to make the decision that I am not going anywhere in this weather. I go do under the gable roof saying hi to all the boys and have a leak, clean my teeth, wandering back I chat to a few of the older fellars, we talk for a while and I head back to my swag for a quick nap, the young guys are restless and not long after I hear them talking about going for a drive around to check the bulls, we all pile into the mini bus, head out to the stock yards, the bulls look big and mean with rain dripping off there horns, a fair bit a talk going on and there is nothing they can do so, its off to the main street and the first stop was the pub. Well I better go in and look after them I reckon. Not long after that it was all happening and the beer was going down just fine, the jukebox was cranking and the pool table was the hive of entertainment. I put a few bets on at the TAB and it cost me $20 bucks to make $2 buck, so I quit before it got out of hand. Later that arvo we where all pretty cherpie, and well on the way, we headed back to camp just before dark, the rain had eased, and some had made a stew, I think they used one of the old bulls, but I was happy. We sat up for a while telling stories and finally I headed to bed.

  Day 6. I Woke up and looked out of my trusty house and the fog was thick; I ran a spanner over my bike checking she was ready for a mile. Said hooray to the boys and filled up at the servo. My head was a little fuzzy. I and headed east into Charleville. I stopped at the Qld national park and ask around about Carnarvon Gorge. Steve was the ranger there and told me about Mount Moffatt on the western side. Sounded like a plan but was going to be a long slog as the roads coped some rain, well I am ready for a adventure so away and here we go, The road in was wet and greasy there was a grader working the area and also used by logging trucks, so any good work that was repaired was undone by the loggers, speed again was brisk and the last section was not the best. I made it to the park at sun down and had a few k’s to find camp. I found the self-register and grabbed a permit. I look up on the hill and there was an old rangers hut under renovations,
  . It had what look like some one sitting on the front steps, as I rode pass and I was waved over. So I rode up and turned off the engine and said how ya going, Want a beer mate was the first question, not a problem was the answer. With that done I had a chat to the three rangers and went in for a look around, beef curry was on the wood stove and next minute we where playing cards, drinking beer and telling bike stories until late hours of the morning, lost count of the km that day was around 650. I hit the sack and snored like a bustard.

  Day 7. Woke to rain again, shit that’s no good. Wanted to look around the parks, the boy’s tell me about the lookouts, cave paintings, and other wind blown rock structures. Still a fair way in, I struggle through the area exploring and wrestling to keep the big girl upright.
  Suffering from lack of grip and could not go fast enough to clear the black mud out of the tyre treads, bit like riding on ice, my back tyre was about bald anyway. Well a quick lap around the area and back down through the road works area. Well there is water all over the road and it’s chopped to bits. I am sliding from one side to the other, the back wheels is trying to over take the front, its still raining and the gutter are full. I think back a couple of days ago and thought about the desert and how dry it was, and here it’s like greasy gunk. I think it’s under 200km of this shit and I battled for hours.

  I was Glad to see the black stuff again the rain is drizzling and I am wet again, the causeways are flooding and it looks bleak. I pulled in to Injune and refuel ask a couple of truckies about the roads west, they reckon they are not worth the risk, I head south looking for attentive routes. I but ride a few roads that are dead ends I get to Kingaroy at sunset try looking up a mate but he’s not around, I flick on the lights and high tail it for home I get in around 7:30 pm and around 780ks. I wouldn’t have changed it for the world. Only thing I needed was more appropriate gloves, my rain pants that I let on the bed and a Gps to avoid me going off into the never never . Epirb or a SPOT unit like Mick’s. already Planing the next Adventure .. Cheers .

• 7 JP // Jan 16, 2009 at 5:18 pm

  hey Charie,
  Thanks again for letting me go with you guys to Arizona. i had a great time and that will be a trip that i never forget. Hope to get to do it again.
  Thank you,
  JP

• 8 Jaybee62 // Feb 23, 2009 at 1:26 pm

  Hi, when not riding along, how can a person submit an article? Or not allowed?
  Jay B.

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