RIDING ALONE – THINGS YOU MIGHT CONSIDER

I trust you all understand that we ride just like we die.

Alone.

Even when we go riding with our bestest mates, Just like them, you are riding alone.

But then there’s the really-truly alone riding, when it’s just you, the bike, and whatever the road chucks at you. And if you, like me, do a lot of this kind of riding, then nothing I’m going to tell you is new or strange.

But if you’re not one of those riders who is willing and able to smash out the big miles on your own, and the very thought of getting on your bike and setting out for central Queensland stains your panties with trepidation, I’m gonna nudge a few hints towards you.

You may discount them, or you may consider I have ridden more than two million kilometres in my life, and I’ve done the badlands of Magyarország (Hungary), Serbia, Montenegro, and Bosnia on my own – largely because I am an idiot and did not at all expect to come as close to dying as I did.

I have, therefore, acquired some knowledge which may or may not be of some assistance to you on your lonesome travels.

Probably the most important thing is to make sure your bike is in good order. This is especially crucial to mechanical muppets like me. If something goes wrong, and if history is any indicator, it’s unlikely I’ll be able to fix it. I may set it on fire, or beat it with a rock, but repairing the issue lies outside my skill-set. That said, modern bikes are superb at defying repair by simply being rather complex creations. So while you have a fighting chance at feeding some life into something that has carbies or points, how you’re gonna go sorting out two ECUs that are smarter than the people you went to high school with, is a different matter.

Be hugely mindful at all times. Dude, you’re alone, OK? You need to keep your wits about you both on the road and when you’re stopped. You need to pay attention to where you stop and how you get on and off your bike. It is very funny, but it is not cool, to pull over on the side of the road, then either drop your bike in the loose shit, or pop your knee out because the footing was slippery when you got off.

When you stop to eat somewhere, keep an eye on your bike. Especially if you have shit strapped to it. Thieves have not been eradicated from our society. This really applies if you’re going to sleep somewhere and your bike is not in bed with you. Be aware of where you’re parked and what kind of an area/town/feral reservation you’re about to go to sleep in.

Always do the self-pat-down before you ride off. Wallet, phone, breath mints all there? Good. Ride on. When you’re walking away from your bike, make sure you haven’t left your keys in it. Or in a pannier lock.

Make an effort not to drink yourself to sleep. I know many of you are functioning alcoholics and/or drug addicts. I don’t mind a smoke myself before nodding off. Helps to calm the screaming demons in my head. But if you’re gonna drink yourself into a stupor and pass out, then maybe you deserve to be robbed and murdered.

Keep $100 somewhere that isn’t your wallet. If you lose your wallet, you’ll have some money to buy another one. Likewise, write down the important phone numbers in your life in case you lose your phone.

Always carry a knife, a lighter, and some water. No, you don’t need to pack a 12-inch Bowie knife or an eldritch blade of power, but a good, razor-sharp penknife, folding knife, or Leatherman tool is mighty handy to have. And the ability to make a fire is something you should always possess. And trust me when I tell you that 500ml of water is a wonderful thing to sip on if you’ve tripped over your own feet, and are now lying in a table drain with a broken ankle.

See also

Esoterica

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THE MOST TERRIBLE THING I HAVE EVER WRITTEN – PART TWO

23 March 20214

Keep a lot in reserve when you’re carving unfamiliar corners far from home. Unless there are girls watching, of course. But even then, make sure you’re not at ten-tenths. It’s that mindfulness thing again.

If you’re planning on some really funky adventure stuff, or you plan on riding some challenging and remote bitumen, tell someone when you plan to be in contact after the ride. And tell them to send the rescue choppers and cadaver dogs if they don’t hear from you by a certain time.

If in doubt, then just don’t. Listen to you inner screaming ape. If it’s jabbering, you need to acknowledge it. Don’t make that over-take. Don’t trust the surface if it looks or feels iffy. Don’t eat that strange chicken. Don’t stop in that town, in that place, at that time. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for seeing what’s what, but it makes more sense to tempt fate when you’re not on your own.

I guess they’re the basics, and old leathery warhorses may smile knowingly because they do these things automatically. But if you’re new to solo riding, this may help.

There’s something simply unmatchable to riding big distances alone. It’s a special kind of magic. You’re alone but not lonely. You must depend entirely upon yourself, your skills, and your wits all the time, without respite. There’s no time off. By yourself, you’re on all the time.

The experience will test and measure you, as it should, and as it must for it to be worthwhile.

All you gotta do is make sure you’re up for it.