Two weeks till lift off!

The preparations for this trip have been rough going, and I've not even set off yet. Many times I've dithered, and many times I've changed my mind. Generally things have gone well, but so often I've been on the verge of calling it all off. This just isn't me, at least it isn't the person I've grown accustomed to. There's no doubt about it, the planning to ride such a distance can be fraught with stress and uncertainty, but I"ve never been put off by simple hurdles before. In a nutshell, I ain't the man I used to be. Having declared this openly I can drop the bullshit and say it as it is. For a short period I struggled to with routine mechanics, not getting my head into gear, making silly mistakes. My arms don't crank a spanner the way they used to, the result being a number of bolts winding back out and getting lost whilst riding. Luckily no vital parts have dropped off, and the spring that broke into the crank case seems to have flushed out now.

I've been worried, about my state of mind and my physical ability, am I actually strong enough to make the trip? What a question to ask, never before has this even entered my mind. On a couple of occasions my apprehension has almost got the better of me, when did I suddenly lose faith in myself? But of course it isn't sudden! On a psychological level, I lost faith in life and my relevance in the scheme of things when Cai died.I could still rely on my physical capabilities though, since my own accident that has changed drastically. No longer have I felt comfortable about how much strain my body can take. For sure I can walk pretty well now, running is even relatively OK, so long as I do neither over rough ground. When I sit on my bike the world is a different place. I'm not wobbly, my demeanour is calm, in control. In fact I'm more stable on the bike than my own two feet.


Starting as a touch nervous when I first rode again , once sufficiently recovered from my metal Mickey transplants, it took a while to settle down into a comfortable level of riding. Small country roads made me slightly nervous, I was a bit hesitant around blind bends. I'm not surprised after the ordeal with the Tractor. I am scared of hurting myself that bad again, to scared to face those demons, My head will remain buried deep in the sand, if it ever happens I'll deal with it then. So my riding style was a bit hit and miss for a while. On smaller windy roads I was definitely a bit sheepish, whilst being loud and a bit obnoxious riding more open roads. In fits and starts I've alternated between a considerate, precise, controlled riding style and a rather rude, irresponsible one. Gradually the two have amalgamated and formed a much improved behaviour on the road. I had to ride out my frustration, discard my anger, there was an awful lot of anger fermenting away inside, it would have been much quicker to have gone and dragged the farmer out his house and kicked the crap out of him. And in all honesty, I actually think he deserves no less, not for the lies and deceit he covered his arse with, because the only person it hurt was me.

So while working off my frustration the KLR650 decided to make a play for some attention of its own. A string of minor problems occurred, nothing drastic, and nothing I couldn't put right myself, though I did consider paying a mechanic to do job on the clutch. I did myself, after a little deliberation. The outcome was the confidence that I can do any job on that bike that needs doing, combined with the realisation that I will probably need to do plenty of little jobs to coax it all the way over to, and through, China. With only six weeks left before departure I went out and bought a BMW f650 GS Dakar. Not new, a similar age and similar mileage as the Kawasaki. But the BMW is much more long lived, more reliable, more economic, and a more comfortable ride. When it comes to excitement the kawasaki wins hands down every time, it begs to be ridden hard, crys out for thrills. There's no two ways about it though, the BMW is the superior machine, at least better equipped for what I had in mind. Of course, once bought I had to prepare it to suit me, my particular journey. So now, with only two weeks left it sits semi-stripped awaiting a fuel tan conversion. I've done the work, the new tank is in for a paint job. the bike merely awaits the final fitment. And if the rain ever stops it might actually get done in time.