All three of us are bone weary, and needed a morning rest. Bikes needed oil change and a number of minor repairs, and as bodies needed a swim and a leisurely breakfast. It was nearly 11:30 before we rolled the bikes up the ramp on onto the Samui to Don Sak ferry.
The plan is to break the back of the Thailand to Malaysia return trip today, leaving us some extra time to pay in the Cameron and Genting Highlands enroute. With any luck we will make the Hat Yai crossing before the border closes this evening, and may continue for an hour or so down the expressway before seeking lodgings for the night.
Gary's Handlebar Gymnastics
Easy plan today - find a high kick off point in the mountains and keep going up.
The tracks rose at quite an alarming gradient here, really designed just for walking or specialised 4wd vehicles, and are not well suited to fully laden adventure bikes. Unfortunately Gary found this out the hard way today. With slopes exceeding 60 degrees, it's essential to gauge how much momentum is needed to hit a crest in one pass. Stopping mid slope can only lead to flipping over or sliding backwards. Gary experienced the latter option today, not hitting a slope fast enough and finding himself at a standstill three quarters of the way up the slope. This momentary pause was followed by the terrible feeling of 250kg of machinery sliding backwards,
Gary's initial concern quickly escalated in octaves, ending in a squeal of "F#%£ F¥#%"' silence, then a much calmer "I'm off". To avoid the bike accelerating any further, Gary had done the only sensible thing and simply jumped off. We recovered his bike from the deep rut, dusted poor old Gary off, and continued up the mountain.
A pause for breath at the top of the mountain yielded an unpleasant surprise. I had squatted down to rest and enjoy the view, then lifted my eyes to see a horrifying sight right in from of me. With a healthy dose of arachnophobia, this was indeed a worst-case scenario, and the specimen in front of us defied belief. Suspended from a web that could have been used as a ship's anchor, this beast was too heavy to sway in the mountain breeze, instead focusing all of its attention on scaring the bejesus out of unwary motorcyclists. Ty ventured closer for a photo, and the blurriness in the photo can be attributed to the sharp shove that had him scrambling rapidly backwards.
The trip back down the other side of the mountain was no less exhilarating, with concrete plateaus suddenly falling away and leaving both bike and stomach suspended momentarily before both crashed back to earth. The days ride did cause some casualties, with one of Gary's panniers split open, and a sheared exhaust bolt and broken side stand spring on my bike. Only Ty emerged unscathed (today).
The tracks rose at quite an alarming gradient here, really designed just for walking or specialised 4wd vehicles, and are not well suited to fully laden adventure bikes. Unfortunately Gary found this out the hard way today. With slopes exceeding 60 degrees, it's essential to gauge how much momentum is needed to hit a crest in one pass. Stopping mid slope can only lead to flipping over or sliding backwards. Gary experienced the latter option today, not hitting a slope fast enough and finding himself at a standstill three quarters of the way up the slope. This momentary pause was followed by the terrible feeling of 250kg of machinery sliding backwards,
Gary's initial concern quickly escalated in octaves, ending in a squeal of "F#%£ F¥#%"' silence, then a much calmer "I'm off". To avoid the bike accelerating any further, Gary had done the only sensible thing and simply jumped off. We recovered his bike from the deep rut, dusted poor old Gary off, and continued up the mountain.
A pause for breath at the top of the mountain yielded an unpleasant surprise. I had squatted down to rest and enjoy the view, then lifted my eyes to see a horrifying sight right in from of me. With a healthy dose of arachnophobia, this was indeed a worst-case scenario, and the specimen in front of us defied belief. Suspended from a web that could have been used as a ship's anchor, this beast was too heavy to sway in the mountain breeze, instead focusing all of its attention on scaring the bejesus out of unwary motorcyclists. Ty ventured closer for a photo, and the blurriness in the photo can be attributed to the sharp shove that had him scrambling rapidly backwards.
The trip back down the other side of the mountain was no less exhilarating, with concrete plateaus suddenly falling away and leaving both bike and stomach suspended momentarily before both crashed back to earth. The days ride did cause some casualties, with one of Gary's panniers split open, and a sheared exhaust bolt and broken side stand spring on my bike. Only Ty emerged unscathed (today).
Tony takes a tumble
Today's plan was to escape the ring road of Koh Samui and try to find a track across the mountain range to the other side. Whilst the highest peak is less than 1,000m, the island only stretches approximately 25km in diameter, so this means an extreme climb and fall.
After some false starts we eventually located a concrete road that turned to gravel them compacted leaves, heading ever upwards. It wasn't until we cleared a particularly challenging ascent stretch that we stopped the bikes to realise we were actually on the very ridge of the range. The trail was metres wide and swept along the mountain ridge, falling away to the sea on either side. The landscape was not precipitous at all, with the slopes heavily wooded and roadside webs displaying unnervingly large specimens.
After appreciating the view of the entire island, we commenced a series of steep and rocky descents to get back to the bottom edge of the island. The skid plate on the bottom of the bike spat sparks repeatedly when the machine bottomed out on rocks and other obstacles.
One stretch proved overwhelming for the brakes on the bike, and they simply 'cooked off' - this is where the brake fluid literally boils and loses its viscosity, and hence it's ability to drive the hydraulics in the braking system. Result: no brakes. This occurred on a steep rocky decline where the bike continued to accelerate despite first gear engine braking and careful front brakes. I was left with no option other than to select a soft landing spot in the undergrowth and deliberately lay the bike down. It is always a difficult decision to do this, even more so in front of two merciless mates. Result, scratches and bruises to bike and rider, but no lasting damage to either.
The spill cost me the traditional round of Margaritas that evening, as we recapped the days highlights. At some point during the evening, a suggestion was made to do it all over again - at night.
Even with powerful LED driving lamps, riding on jungle trails at night is an eerie experience, The field of vision is narrowed to the scope of the lamps, and you are aware of the jungle either side of the road but nothing beyond that. Insects and other critters flit through the beams, and the night noises are quite different to daytime.
After a combination of rock and loose powder, Gary decided that he would not be wise to continue any further at night, so we all turned the bikes around and headed back down the mountain. Happy.
After some false starts we eventually located a concrete road that turned to gravel them compacted leaves, heading ever upwards. It wasn't until we cleared a particularly challenging ascent stretch that we stopped the bikes to realise we were actually on the very ridge of the range. The trail was metres wide and swept along the mountain ridge, falling away to the sea on either side. The landscape was not precipitous at all, with the slopes heavily wooded and roadside webs displaying unnervingly large specimens.
After appreciating the view of the entire island, we commenced a series of steep and rocky descents to get back to the bottom edge of the island. The skid plate on the bottom of the bike spat sparks repeatedly when the machine bottomed out on rocks and other obstacles.
One stretch proved overwhelming for the brakes on the bike, and they simply 'cooked off' - this is where the brake fluid literally boils and loses its viscosity, and hence it's ability to drive the hydraulics in the braking system. Result: no brakes. This occurred on a steep rocky decline where the bike continued to accelerate despite first gear engine braking and careful front brakes. I was left with no option other than to select a soft landing spot in the undergrowth and deliberately lay the bike down. It is always a difficult decision to do this, even more so in front of two merciless mates. Result, scratches and bruises to bike and rider, but no lasting damage to either.
The spill cost me the traditional round of Margaritas that evening, as we recapped the days highlights. At some point during the evening, a suggestion was made to do it all over again - at night.
Even with powerful LED driving lamps, riding on jungle trails at night is an eerie experience, The field of vision is narrowed to the scope of the lamps, and you are aware of the jungle either side of the road but nothing beyond that. Insects and other critters flit through the beams, and the night noises are quite different to daytime.
After a combination of rock and loose powder, Gary decided that he would not be wise to continue any further at night, so we all turned the bikes around and headed back down the mountain. Happy.
Chumphon to Don Sak
Sometimes the best experiences come the long way around. The road from Chumphon to Surat Thani is fast and sealed, but both scenery and fellow commuters (trucks) are boring. The garmin gps was switched to find the shortest road route between these two locations, and we set off on a mystery tour of rural roads and barely formed tracks.
The approach eventually placed us at the Don Sak ferry terminal, but not before meandering through numerous small villages dotted around the coast. With a relaxed pace and nothing more than a compass heading, the day offered a lot of unexpected pleasures.
The approach eventually placed us at the Don Sak ferry terminal, but not before meandering through numerous small villages dotted around the coast. With a relaxed pace and nothing more than a compass heading, the day offered a lot of unexpected pleasures.
Batteries before border, a complete train wreck
Breakfast at a kerbside cage looked enticing from the road as we drove past s route to the port. A quick stop delivered three plates of the hottest concoction I have ever tasted, and within a mouthful sweat had beaded on the forehead leaving me gasping for breath. A choked request for water/coke/anything yielded a hot cup of sweet coffee. As an antidote for a direct hit of chilli oil, hot coffee is as useful as petrol but in the absence of any other fluid it had to suffice.
Gary's bike continues to frustrate, with the battery charging fully during the day but discharging overnight. Jump starting has become a morning chore that requires removing the seats of two bikes in order to access the battery compartment. Fortunately one of the bike modifications that we made prior to departure involved drilling through the side panels for easy access to the seat bolts, otherwise the job would mean removing panniers, racks and side panels as well. This is a real design oversight by Kawasaki in an otherwise well built bike. As an adventure tourer, many buyers would be intending to fit aftermarket luggage and the design should have catered to this
Even though the KLR is assembled at a factory in Thailand, they are not sold locally. This has made sourcing a battery very difficult. Ty has agreed to go on ahead to the port to try and secure a boat for the crossing while Gary and I locate a suitable replacement battery this morning.
- - - later - - -
Despite a variety of methods for communicating with one another, the group became separated from one another and despite messages at previous locations Ty and Gary found themselves in Chumphon with Tony 149km away in Rangon. Not a lot of options once there is geography between travelling parties, and I had a fast blast at dusk through the mountains in order to regroup. Despite a wasted day trying to regroup, this last dash was no hardship as the route involves dozens of long sweeping bends through endless jungle scenery. It was an opportunity to open the throttle and reconnect with the pure experience of riding. A chance to focus on cornering technique and other riding disciplines in the absence of mates, police, traffic and any other distractions.
Gary's bike continues to frustrate, with the battery charging fully during the day but discharging overnight. Jump starting has become a morning chore that requires removing the seats of two bikes in order to access the battery compartment. Fortunately one of the bike modifications that we made prior to departure involved drilling through the side panels for easy access to the seat bolts, otherwise the job would mean removing panniers, racks and side panels as well. This is a real design oversight by Kawasaki in an otherwise well built bike. As an adventure tourer, many buyers would be intending to fit aftermarket luggage and the design should have catered to this
Even though the KLR is assembled at a factory in Thailand, they are not sold locally. This has made sourcing a battery very difficult. Ty has agreed to go on ahead to the port to try and secure a boat for the crossing while Gary and I locate a suitable replacement battery this morning.
- - - later - - -
Despite a variety of methods for communicating with one another, the group became separated from one another and despite messages at previous locations Ty and Gary found themselves in Chumphon with Tony 149km away in Rangon. Not a lot of options once there is geography between travelling parties, and I had a fast blast at dusk through the mountains in order to regroup. Despite a wasted day trying to regroup, this last dash was no hardship as the route involves dozens of long sweeping bends through endless jungle scenery. It was an opportunity to open the throttle and reconnect with the pure experience of riding. A chance to focus on cornering technique and other riding disciplines in the absence of mates, police, traffic and any other distractions.
Surat Thani to Ranong
Blasting off the ferry from Koh Samui, we were geared up for a short 200km stretch of mountain riding across the peninsula to Ranong. As we saddled up in the bowels of the ferry waiting for the ramp to be lowered, Gary noted that the crossing had passed quite quickly and we congratulated ourselves on the decision to catch a boat direct to Surat Thani.
Once up the ramp and out onto the provincial highway we were hit with a strong sense of déjà vu. This was attributed us joint the incorrect line on the dock and catching the wrong bloody ferry. Our 'short' crossing had been busy taking us backwards to Don Sak (where we started from 36 hours ago). We like to think that we have enriched the cultural perspective of some nearby locals as we introduced them to colourful Australian language.
By lunchtime we had regained lost ground and were charging through the mountains at a great pace. The roads across the peninsula are listed as provincial, but are tarmac surfaced and extremely well maintained. We took full advantage of this with a hot pace and some exhilarating riding.
Sometime mid afternoon Gary required a bathroom stop, so we rolled gently into a small town centre, really just a collection of small shops and houses bordering the tarmac. Not a word of English was spoken in the town, and Gary investigated various storerooms and sheds, watched by a bewildered group of onlookers. Not locating any facilities, he engaged in an increasingly animated (and hilarious) pantomime to make his needs known.
Eventually, one of the men led him into a nearby house. Leaving Gary inside, he announced to the now-larger group "pookie, pookie". We are reasonably certain of the translation based on the huge guffaw from the entire group, all of which sat around to wait out the next 20 minutes (yes, 20 minutes) to see Gary emerge. Ty and I were laughing right along with them, and for much the same reasons.
On our arrival in Ranong just after dusk, we decided to locate the port and immigration facilities before finding dinner and lodgings. A young lady on a moped kindly offered to guide us for the 15km or so, and handed us over to the local police. The station attendant immediately ushered us through into the station and we were introduced to the local boss 'Rambo' (seriously). Rambo is muscular, heavily built for a Thai guy, rides a custom Harley, and has clearly watched waaaaayyy to many Sylvester Stallone movies. After a Rocky start (sorry, couldn't resist that) by offering to help us through the emigration / immigration process. He actually does seem like a great guy and I am sure will be invaluable tomorrow.
He has warned us though that he thinks getting the bikes across to Songthiew will not be possible. The longboats are very narrow and really only designed for people and parcel freight. We intend to try lashing three or more together to support each bike and hopefully make the 20 minute crossing in one piece.
It should be an interesting day tomorrow. .....
Once up the ramp and out onto the provincial highway we were hit with a strong sense of déjà vu. This was attributed us joint the incorrect line on the dock and catching the wrong bloody ferry. Our 'short' crossing had been busy taking us backwards to Don Sak (where we started from 36 hours ago). We like to think that we have enriched the cultural perspective of some nearby locals as we introduced them to colourful Australian language.
By lunchtime we had regained lost ground and were charging through the mountains at a great pace. The roads across the peninsula are listed as provincial, but are tarmac surfaced and extremely well maintained. We took full advantage of this with a hot pace and some exhilarating riding.
Sometime mid afternoon Gary required a bathroom stop, so we rolled gently into a small town centre, really just a collection of small shops and houses bordering the tarmac. Not a word of English was spoken in the town, and Gary investigated various storerooms and sheds, watched by a bewildered group of onlookers. Not locating any facilities, he engaged in an increasingly animated (and hilarious) pantomime to make his needs known.
Eventually, one of the men led him into a nearby house. Leaving Gary inside, he announced to the now-larger group "pookie, pookie". We are reasonably certain of the translation based on the huge guffaw from the entire group, all of which sat around to wait out the next 20 minutes (yes, 20 minutes) to see Gary emerge. Ty and I were laughing right along with them, and for much the same reasons.
On our arrival in Ranong just after dusk, we decided to locate the port and immigration facilities before finding dinner and lodgings. A young lady on a moped kindly offered to guide us for the 15km or so, and handed us over to the local police. The station attendant immediately ushered us through into the station and we were introduced to the local boss 'Rambo' (seriously). Rambo is muscular, heavily built for a Thai guy, rides a custom Harley, and has clearly watched waaaaayyy to many Sylvester Stallone movies. After a Rocky start (sorry, couldn't resist that) by offering to help us through the emigration / immigration process. He actually does seem like a great guy and I am sure will be invaluable tomorrow.
He has warned us though that he thinks getting the bikes across to Songthiew will not be possible. The longboats are very narrow and really only designed for people and parcel freight. We intend to try lashing three or more together to support each bike and hopefully make the 20 minute crossing in one piece.
It should be an interesting day tomorrow. .....
Up Up Up
The best cure for an industrial strength hangover is an enormous American breakfast. We had it on good authority that the best breakfast in town involves a serious trek to get there. The Jungle Club is perched precariously on the top of Koh Samui and is inaccessible by normal passenger vehicles. On arrival, guests telephone from a gate down the bottom and a special vehicle is dispatched to collect them.
Knowing this, the lure of heading up under our own steam was irresistible. The road starts gently enough, but the gradient quickly rises until even the KLR's are labouring to climb the steep and winding road. Riding up is a game of balance; standing on the pegs and leaning far forward to keep the bike from flipping whilst also trying to maintain enough weight on the back to stop the wheel from slipping. Whatever the technique, stopping is not an option because there is no way that the bike brakes would hold nearly 350kg of bike, luggage and rider on such a gradient - and it would be a long and humiliating slide back down.
Once arriving at the Jungle Club, we were met with panoramic views across the entire island and a resort that has been cleft out of the mountain whilst retaining the natural features. The restaurant s dotted with large boulders; one forming part of a well, another upholstered as guest seating. A deck juts out over a steep drop and is scattered with cushions and low tables. This scenery is so breathtaking that even the guests talk in muted tones, speaking loudly would spoil the serenity of this place.
Our intention had been to enjoy a quiet breakfast and then depart for Myanmar, however the mountain beckoned. On leaving the Jungle Club we were lured by the promise of testing riding and turned off the club's access road onto an unsealed track heading into the forest. This ended up offering some spectacular riding, with steep and rutted trails surging up and down along the mountain ridge. All three riders were lathered in sweat within a short time as we wrestled the fully laden bikes along rock and mud pathways. Hidden surprises in the firm of plantation farmhouses and buffalo added to the delight.
The cost of this distraction was insufficient time to meet the last ferry back to the mainland, so we scooted back to the villas for another night.
Knowing this, the lure of heading up under our own steam was irresistible. The road starts gently enough, but the gradient quickly rises until even the KLR's are labouring to climb the steep and winding road. Riding up is a game of balance; standing on the pegs and leaning far forward to keep the bike from flipping whilst also trying to maintain enough weight on the back to stop the wheel from slipping. Whatever the technique, stopping is not an option because there is no way that the bike brakes would hold nearly 350kg of bike, luggage and rider on such a gradient - and it would be a long and humiliating slide back down.
Once arriving at the Jungle Club, we were met with panoramic views across the entire island and a resort that has been cleft out of the mountain whilst retaining the natural features. The restaurant s dotted with large boulders; one forming part of a well, another upholstered as guest seating. A deck juts out over a steep drop and is scattered with cushions and low tables. This scenery is so breathtaking that even the guests talk in muted tones, speaking loudly would spoil the serenity of this place.
Our intention had been to enjoy a quiet breakfast and then depart for Myanmar, however the mountain beckoned. On leaving the Jungle Club we were lured by the promise of testing riding and turned off the club's access road onto an unsealed track heading into the forest. This ended up offering some spectacular riding, with steep and rutted trails surging up and down along the mountain ridge. All three riders were lathered in sweat within a short time as we wrestled the fully laden bikes along rock and mud pathways. Hidden surprises in the firm of plantation farmhouses and buffalo added to the delight.
The cost of this distraction was insufficient time to meet the last ferry back to the mainland, so we scooted back to the villas for another night.
Koh Samui, Living Pool and the Jungle Club
Rolling down the ramp and onto Koh Samui at dusk, we quickly realised that the majority of the infrastructure was on the other side of the island. The arrivals from Don Sak are mostly freight and local traffic, with the island's tourist centre serviced by the international airport. Koh Samui is less than 100km in circumference, so we set off along the ring road with spectacular mountains on the right, and spotless beaches dotted with fishermen throwing nets on the left.
High season means many hotels operate at near capacity, so it took a few enquiries before we were able to secure lodgings at the new Living Pool Villa. The hotel is not actually 'open' - or even 'complete' - however the owners decided to open anyway to take advantage of the high season. Despite some villas being under construction, the complex is finished to a sensational standard, and each villa is equipped with a living room and its own swimming pool that would not be out of place in high-end Seminyak.
After settling in, we joined the two women who own and run the hotel along with their families for poolside drinks. Bow wow (great name) poured the whiskey with a heavy hand, and we all went to bed considerably merrier and anticipating a mule kick hangover in the morning.
High season means many hotels operate at near capacity, so it took a few enquiries before we were able to secure lodgings at the new Living Pool Villa. The hotel is not actually 'open' - or even 'complete' - however the owners decided to open anyway to take advantage of the high season. Despite some villas being under construction, the complex is finished to a sensational standard, and each villa is equipped with a living room and its own swimming pool that would not be out of place in high-end Seminyak.
After settling in, we joined the two women who own and run the hotel along with their families for poolside drinks. Bow wow (great name) poured the whiskey with a heavy hand, and we all went to bed considerably merrier and anticipating a mule kick hangover in the morning.
Surat Thani and the SeaTrans Ferry
Just a short hop of 300 easy kilometres this morning through to the city of Surat Thani. The trip was lengthened by repairs to bikes with broken pannier frames and footrest bolts. The footrest bolts are an enduring irritation on the KLRs, and Kawasaki seem to use a mild cheddar when casting them.
Arriving at the ferry terminal could not be easier, with a modern air conditioned terminal selling walk-up tickets to Koh Samui for 750 baht ($25). This fee covers both bike and passenger. I am jotting these notes as we watch the ferry dock and offload traffic coming the other way. It is all very relaxed and gentle in typical Thai fashion.
The ferry is a popular commercial service, and passengers sit on lounge chairs sipping cold drinks while the boat chugs across the bay. This certainly beats wrestling a large motorcycle into a small dugout.
- - - later - - -
It's funny how 'bike intercom language' goes through a reverse evolutionary process the longer you travel. The first day is chatty and with lots of casual conversation. This wanes very quickly, then is pared back to a series of one-word observations. I guess an anthropologist (Dee?) might call this pure language, as it conveys meaning without a single wasted word. A typical "conversation" approaching a hill crest may sound something like:
Ty: Clear ... Clear ... Clear ... Truck
Tony: Seen
Tony: Through
Gary: Through
This shorthand is not planned or considered, it just evolves, leaving each of us free to enjoy our own quiet space - a bizarre concept when you are hurtling past traffic at 100+ km/hr on 250kg of machinery.
Arriving at the ferry terminal could not be easier, with a modern air conditioned terminal selling walk-up tickets to Koh Samui for 750 baht ($25). This fee covers both bike and passenger. I am jotting these notes as we watch the ferry dock and offload traffic coming the other way. It is all very relaxed and gentle in typical Thai fashion.
The ferry is a popular commercial service, and passengers sit on lounge chairs sipping cold drinks while the boat chugs across the bay. This certainly beats wrestling a large motorcycle into a small dugout.
- - - later - - -
It's funny how 'bike intercom language' goes through a reverse evolutionary process the longer you travel. The first day is chatty and with lots of casual conversation. This wanes very quickly, then is pared back to a series of one-word observations. I guess an anthropologist (Dee?) might call this pure language, as it conveys meaning without a single wasted word. A typical "conversation" approaching a hill crest may sound something like:
Ty: Clear ... Clear ... Clear ... Truck
Tony: Seen
Tony: Through
Gary: Through
This shorthand is not planned or considered, it just evolves, leaving each of us free to enjoy our own quiet space - a bizarre concept when you are hurtling past traffic at 100+ km/hr on 250kg of machinery.
Rest, Repairs & Donations
Ty's bike has not been kind to him, with several components failing yesterday. Krabi does not have any dealerships that keep parts for big bikes, so Ty is doing a parts run 180km down the peninsula to Phuket City. It all sounds a bit too hard for Gary and I who have visited Phuket City in the past, so we have a declared a day of rest while Ty takes the main road there and back.
As this is being written, we have taken a call from Ty - from near the Police Station in Phuket City. Apparently he needed to scoot from one shop to another nearby and decided not to wear his helmet. A friendly policeman nearby pulled him over and seized his license. He has been told that he must go to the police station to retrieve it after donating 300 baht to the Philippines government.
Ty was incensed that hundreds of other bike riders nearby were not wearing helmets, however he has been singled out. It must have been something to do with his uncanny resemblance to Shrek. At least there are no points to lose over here.
As this is being written, we have taken a call from Ty - from near the Police Station in Phuket City. Apparently he needed to scoot from one shop to another nearby and decided not to wear his helmet. A friendly policeman nearby pulled him over and seized his license. He has been told that he must go to the police station to retrieve it after donating 300 baht to the Philippines government.
Ty was incensed that hundreds of other bike riders nearby were not wearing helmets, however he has been singled out. It must have been something to do with his uncanny resemblance to Shrek. At least there are no points to lose over here.
Fuel Economy: Hat Yai to Krabi
Riding three of the same bikes with the same equipment has given us some unique insight into aerodynamics and fuel economy. Ty's bike has been running out of fuel consistently at the 180lm mark, with Gary and I having nearly half a tank still available. Running out of fuel is not a problem per se as we carry nearly six litres between us, but it is interesting that one bike performs so poorly. This is also evident in the bike rolling and wallowing in corners, whilst the other two bikes are travellign through smoothly.
Further examination has shown that Ty's bike has considerably more luggage 'in-the-wind' and he is also carrying an additional 20kg of stuff. The stuff was the problem, and had to go. Ty spent a few hours sacrificing gear to various grateful locals as he sought to shed weight from the bke. Even after this exercise there was still a 10kg sack of doom that was posted home.
This activity has reinforced a belief of mine that luggage ruins an otherwise fine holiday. We have now travelled in dozens of countries for extended period with nothing more than a tank bag for our worldly possessions. This time, we have aluminium panniers available on the bikes so what have we done? We have found 'essential' stuff to fill them to capacity. The result of this is being able to cater to almost any situation - but who the hell wants that. Much of the joy in this type of travel is finding innovative solutions to travel's little challenges and interacting with loal people as much as possible. We have all agreed that the next leg of this jouney will see us travelling with largely empty pannuiers.
Arriving in Krabi at dusk is a lovely experience. This quiet little town sits on a steep hillside and caters to a flashpacker brigade, basically people who used to have a backpacker mindset but are now a few years older and prefer some more creature comforts.
The three of us shared a delightful meal with a Swedish anthropologist who has been living on an island off Krabi for the past twelve months whilst completing a PhD studying the impact of the tsunami on the sea-gypsy communities. This lady clearly had a real passion for the community and was not looking forward to Sweden to resume her old life. This is entirely understandable, as Krabi and surrounds are an idyllic location and it would be very easy to call them home.
Further examination has shown that Ty's bike has considerably more luggage 'in-the-wind' and he is also carrying an additional 20kg of stuff. The stuff was the problem, and had to go. Ty spent a few hours sacrificing gear to various grateful locals as he sought to shed weight from the bke. Even after this exercise there was still a 10kg sack of doom that was posted home.
This activity has reinforced a belief of mine that luggage ruins an otherwise fine holiday. We have now travelled in dozens of countries for extended period with nothing more than a tank bag for our worldly possessions. This time, we have aluminium panniers available on the bikes so what have we done? We have found 'essential' stuff to fill them to capacity. The result of this is being able to cater to almost any situation - but who the hell wants that. Much of the joy in this type of travel is finding innovative solutions to travel's little challenges and interacting with loal people as much as possible. We have all agreed that the next leg of this jouney will see us travelling with largely empty pannuiers.
Arriving in Krabi at dusk is a lovely experience. This quiet little town sits on a steep hillside and caters to a flashpacker brigade, basically people who used to have a backpacker mindset but are now a few years older and prefer some more creature comforts.
The three of us shared a delightful meal with a Swedish anthropologist who has been living on an island off Krabi for the past twelve months whilst completing a PhD studying the impact of the tsunami on the sea-gypsy communities. This lady clearly had a real passion for the community and was not looking forward to Sweden to resume her old life. This is entirely understandable, as Krabi and surrounds are an idyllic location and it would be very easy to call them home.
Genting Highlands
Less than an hour away from Port Klang, Ty frantically signalled that we had passed the Genting Highlands turn-off. This is problematic on Malaysian expressways with long distances between breaks in the road centre barriers. Our solution - turn around and ride carefully backwards along the road shoulder to the exit runoff.
As a plan, this seemed entirely simple and logical. In execution, it also meant coming 'off'' the 'on' ramp, We decided that this was too risky and would need to cross the grass median via a 60cm gap between a very large tree and a metre deep water culvert. The maths of this are interesting, because the KLR motorcycles are 1.2m wide from pannier to pannier. Ty and Gary (just) managed to negotiate this gap, but I was not so fortunate. A nudge of the rear pannier against the tree sent me pitching into the water culvert. The bike remained upright, but it will be a day or two before my voice returns to normal due to heavy contact between the petrol tank and various parts of my anatomy.
The road up into the Genting Highlands is world famous amongst motorcyclists, and for good reason. It twists and turns its way impossibly up into the mountains, with the landscape changing from tropical to near-alpine in a matter of an hour or so. The ascent is dizzying at times, with ears popping and the motorcycle motors labouring. Arriving at the top of the mountain is stupendous; with restaurants, hotels and resort style infrastructure that would not be out of place in the Swiss or Bavarian alps.
High season in Genting Highlands is also comparable to Europe in terms of prices, with nothing available under $120aud per night, We decided to press on and head down the other side of the mountain instead, with Krabi in mind as a destination.
Exhaustion indiced by wrestling with twisty roads defeated us, and by the time we reached Hat Yai, we could not go any further.
As a plan, this seemed entirely simple and logical. In execution, it also meant coming 'off'' the 'on' ramp, We decided that this was too risky and would need to cross the grass median via a 60cm gap between a very large tree and a metre deep water culvert. The maths of this are interesting, because the KLR motorcycles are 1.2m wide from pannier to pannier. Ty and Gary (just) managed to negotiate this gap, but I was not so fortunate. A nudge of the rear pannier against the tree sent me pitching into the water culvert. The bike remained upright, but it will be a day or two before my voice returns to normal due to heavy contact between the petrol tank and various parts of my anatomy.
The road up into the Genting Highlands is world famous amongst motorcyclists, and for good reason. It twists and turns its way impossibly up into the mountains, with the landscape changing from tropical to near-alpine in a matter of an hour or so. The ascent is dizzying at times, with ears popping and the motorcycle motors labouring. Arriving at the top of the mountain is stupendous; with restaurants, hotels and resort style infrastructure that would not be out of place in the Swiss or Bavarian alps.
High season in Genting Highlands is also comparable to Europe in terms of prices, with nothing available under $120aud per night, We decided to press on and head down the other side of the mountain instead, with Krabi in mind as a destination.
Exhaustion indiced by wrestling with twisty roads defeated us, and by the time we reached Hat Yai, we could not go any further.
Klang and Beyond
Arriving in Port Klang after dark is not a culturally enriching experience. This city serves principally to provide for Malaysia's largest port operation - Port Klang. A brief night's rest in the Euro Hotel refreshed us for a meeting with the feight forwarding agent the following morning.
It was hilarious to observe the trepidationt that we were met with the following morning by the freight services manager and her assistant as they arrived at the hotel to collect us. The assistant had been instructed to accompnmay her because she was meeting three 'bikes' and it might be dangerous on her own. She did not recognise us at first because she was looking for zz-top beards and oil-stained clothing. It caused much mirth in the car enroute to the freighr depot after she realised that we were not really likely to offer her drugs or terrorise the staff.
Despite an efficient freight operation, the forklift had been less than kind to my motorcycle crate. and the frame has been substantially damaged. Removing the securing bolts became a war of attrition, with the blood flowing freely from cuts inflicted by the sharp steel.
Reassambly of the bikes was scheduled for two hours but stretched to nearly three as we dealt with flat batteries and other minor annoyances. The largest of these was the discovery that Ty's bike had absolutely no brake pad left on the front brakes, so little that it was rubbing on the backing plate. This was disappointing, having paid hundreds of dollars to The Bike Doctor in North Perth to have the bikes comprehensively services prior to shipping. Brakes are a pretty fundamental part of that process, and we wasted precious time sourcing brake pads from a nearby dealership. Interestingly, if you look at the frame of the KLR650 motorcycle it states that the bike is 'Made in Thailand' and parts were readily available.
It was early afternoon before the bikes were finally ready to roll, GPS was tracking, and we headed north on the expressway.
It was hilarious to observe the trepidationt that we were met with the following morning by the freight services manager and her assistant as they arrived at the hotel to collect us. The assistant had been instructed to accompnmay her because she was meeting three 'bikes' and it might be dangerous on her own. She did not recognise us at first because she was looking for zz-top beards and oil-stained clothing. It caused much mirth in the car enroute to the freighr depot after she realised that we were not really likely to offer her drugs or terrorise the staff.
Despite an efficient freight operation, the forklift had been less than kind to my motorcycle crate. and the frame has been substantially damaged. Removing the securing bolts became a war of attrition, with the blood flowing freely from cuts inflicted by the sharp steel.
Reassambly of the bikes was scheduled for two hours but stretched to nearly three as we dealt with flat batteries and other minor annoyances. The largest of these was the discovery that Ty's bike had absolutely no brake pad left on the front brakes, so little that it was rubbing on the backing plate. This was disappointing, having paid hundreds of dollars to The Bike Doctor in North Perth to have the bikes comprehensively services prior to shipping. Brakes are a pretty fundamental part of that process, and we wasted precious time sourcing brake pads from a nearby dealership. Interestingly, if you look at the frame of the KLR650 motorcycle it states that the bike is 'Made in Thailand' and parts were readily available.
It was early afternoon before the bikes were finally ready to roll, GPS was tracking, and we headed north on the expressway.
24 hours to go
Less than 24 hours until we board a red-eye plane for Jakarta, enjoying a quick kip on the floor at Jakarta Soekarno-Hatta International Airport before flying onward to Port Klang in Malaysia.
The guys conducted a last minute gear check last night. This has become quite routine now - however we 'routinely' forget a few essentials every trip. Perhaps it is time to make the gear check evening an alcohol-free event.
The start/finish selection for these rides takes a few evenings of argument and debate, followed by hours of research finding out not just how to get from A to B, but what's in the middle as well. This is the joy of motocycle travel. Almost every other form of mechanised travel is measured in terms of destinations. Motorcycle touring is considerably less linear, and goes along the lines of "we had thought about going to ... ... ... and ended up in ... because on the way ... ... ...".
So often the event that interrupted the plan is completely random; a monastery spotted on top of a hill, a smell from a bakery a few blocks away, the sharp sting of rain on a cheek, or the noise of a fellow motorcyclist on an interesting looking side road. Because motorcycling involves all of the senses instead of just sight, there are five times as many delicious distractions available.
The guys conducted a last minute gear check last night. This has become quite routine now - however we 'routinely' forget a few essentials every trip. Perhaps it is time to make the gear check evening an alcohol-free event.
The start/finish selection for these rides takes a few evenings of argument and debate, followed by hours of research finding out not just how to get from A to B, but what's in the middle as well. This is the joy of motocycle travel. Almost every other form of mechanised travel is measured in terms of destinations. Motorcycle touring is considerably less linear, and goes along the lines of "we had thought about going to ... ... ... and ended up in ... because on the way ... ... ...".
So often the event that interrupted the plan is completely random; a monastery spotted on top of a hill, a smell from a bakery a few blocks away, the sharp sting of rain on a cheek, or the noise of a fellow motorcyclist on an interesting looking side road. Because motorcycling involves all of the senses instead of just sight, there are five times as many delicious distractions available.
Genting Highlands, Malaysia
Bikes are ready and waiting
Our brilliant freight agent (Ivan from Bikes Abroad) has advised that the motorcycles have been cleared by Malaysian Customs and are ready for collection from the Port Klang depot.
The first hour or so will be spent uncrating and reassembling before we can head out to the Genting Highlands.
The first hour or so will be spent uncrating and reassembling before we can head out to the Genting Highlands.
Global Roaming
For those travellers that have been stung by roaming charges before, please note that Woolworths has now started to offer special global roaming SIMs at a fraction of the cost of othe providers, with coverage in 230 countries. Cost is $29 for the SIM, and call rates vary from country to country but are all pretty reasonable. They can be purchased from most Woolworths stores and activated online in a matter of minutes.
(Thank you to the chaps at Blue Zoo for coming up with this solution for me).
(Thank you to the chaps at Blue Zoo for coming up with this solution for me).
Crating
In early December, the KLRs were packed back into manufacturer crates for shipment to Port Klang in Malaysia. Crating bikes is something of an art form. Manufacturers spend lots of money determining how best to minimise the space required for a motorcycle.
Then, along come three monkeys like us who also want to pack three aluminium panniers, windscreens, crash bars, luggage, etc into this original crate.
A combination of strategy, planning, cunning and sheer violence eventually prevailed and the motorcycles were safely crated in time for pickup by Bikes Abroad.
Then, along come three monkeys like us who also want to pack three aluminium panniers, windscreens, crash bars, luggage, etc into this original crate.
A combination of strategy, planning, cunning and sheer violence eventually prevailed and the motorcycles were safely crated in time for pickup by Bikes Abroad.
Bike Preparation
Building three bikes to cope with long distances, carry sufficient spares and luggage, and manage occasionally challenging conditions has been a fun project.Each of the bikes has been extensively modified to suit individual rider requirements, however all of the KLRs have:
- upgraded suspension components
- solar station for battery charging and accessories
- onboard power for electronics (satnav, comms, etc)
- custom made aluminium panniers- crash bars and protectors for all major components
- driving/spot lights and Madstadt windscreens
- Michelin adventure touring tyres
- replacement oil, fuel and air filters
- siebel 130 decibel horns
- integrated Scala G4 rider to rider comms
- SPOT trackers with Google Map links
Early acknowledgments
Four companies have assisted greatly in the preparation for this multi-year trip, and each deserves specific mention.
Petra @ Motorradgarage (www.motorradgarage.com.au) for sharing their knowledge and going above and beyond to source the best adventure gear the world has to offer. Without Motorradgarage, the bikes would not be able survive some of the punishment expected over a journey of this duration.
Ivan Smoljko @ Bikes Abroad (www.bikesabroad.com.au) for managing the entire shipping process from start to finish. Multiple shipping options, wharf strikes, local pickup and delivery, crate storage, nothing was too much trouble for Ivan, and their service is second to none. Without Bikes Abroad, the logistics of shipping motorcycles (classified as dangerous goods) into various locations would be a nightmare.
World Nomads (www.worldnomads.com.au) for their unparalleled reputation for coming to get you, no matter where you are in the world. No other travel insurer is as 'bike friendly' as World Nomads, and it is an enormous comfort knowing that if disaster strikes, there will not be any excuses or delays - they simply get you back home, fast.
And finally, Jonathon Bradshaw @ the Royal Automobile Club of Western Australia (www.racwa.com.au) for providing significant support in arranging carnet documentation for the motorcycles. Navigating the maze of carnet options and issuing countries proved a challenge for this journey, and Jonathon spent considerable time and effort exploring the most effective (and cheapest) options for the team.
Thank you ...
Petra @ Motorradgarage (www.motorradgarage.com.au) for sharing their knowledge and going above and beyond to source the best adventure gear the world has to offer. Without Motorradgarage, the bikes would not be able survive some of the punishment expected over a journey of this duration.
Ivan Smoljko @ Bikes Abroad (www.bikesabroad.com.au) for managing the entire shipping process from start to finish. Multiple shipping options, wharf strikes, local pickup and delivery, crate storage, nothing was too much trouble for Ivan, and their service is second to none. Without Bikes Abroad, the logistics of shipping motorcycles (classified as dangerous goods) into various locations would be a nightmare.
World Nomads (www.worldnomads.com.au) for their unparalleled reputation for coming to get you, no matter where you are in the world. No other travel insurer is as 'bike friendly' as World Nomads, and it is an enormous comfort knowing that if disaster strikes, there will not be any excuses or delays - they simply get you back home, fast.
And finally, Jonathon Bradshaw @ the Royal Automobile Club of Western Australia (www.racwa.com.au) for providing significant support in arranging carnet documentation for the motorcycles. Navigating the maze of carnet options and issuing countries proved a challenge for this journey, and Jonathon spent considerable time and effort exploring the most effective (and cheapest) options for the team.
Thank you ...
The madness begins ... again
The madness begins ...
After successfully finishing the Tandoori Tour in 2010 (India / Nepal), the Taco Tour in 2011 (Nicaragua / Guatemala / El Salvador / Honduras / Panama), and the Tagalog Tour in 2012 (Philippines) - Tony, Ty and Gaz will be motorcycling from Malaysia to Bangladesh in 2013 on the first leg of a multi-year Perth to Paris plan.
Leaving from Port Klang in Malaysia, the journey traverses the Genting Highlands before crossing southern Thailand and the Republic of Myanmar (Burma) en route to Bangladesh. The historic capitals of Yangon and Mandalay are sure to be highlights as we make our way to Dhaka as a final destination.
Three Kawasaki KLR650 expedition bikes have been shipped to Port Klang and should be awaiting the team's arrival on or about the 18th of January.
After successfully finishing the Tandoori Tour in 2010 (India / Nepal), the Taco Tour in 2011 (Nicaragua / Guatemala / El Salvador / Honduras / Panama), and the Tagalog Tour in 2012 (Philippines) - Tony, Ty and Gaz will be motorcycling from Malaysia to Bangladesh in 2013 on the first leg of a multi-year Perth to Paris plan.
Leaving from Port Klang in Malaysia, the journey traverses the Genting Highlands before crossing southern Thailand and the Republic of Myanmar (Burma) en route to Bangladesh. The historic capitals of Yangon and Mandalay are sure to be highlights as we make our way to Dhaka as a final destination.
Three Kawasaki KLR650 expedition bikes have been shipped to Port Klang and should be awaiting the team's arrival on or about the 18th of January.
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