Dirt Bikes

Berms and Sand are a terrific mix!

Okay, I definitely haven't wrote in this book for ages! So I'll update you all on what's happened in the past few months. The picture is of Navarre Cordeschie (closest) and Seth Melville (furthest)

So I'll start when I went to the Millville's last. I still had my 150 Honda at the time. I was sleeping over for three days. From Sunday arvo right through to Wednesday morning. And I rode on all three days. Monday was the big day though. There was the Keeleys and the Graham's and the Cordeschie's mainly. Malley recently acquired a new yz125 Yamaha. Navarre Cordeschie owned a 250 EXC-F KTM and his dad owned a 400. Levi Graham owned a TTR-230 Yamaha. He was still new to the Dirt Bike life. Seth had made a nice track around this paddock. You would go around a few bends and berms before a nice dusty straight. And when I say dusty, I mean dusty! I wouldn't have liked to see our Air-filters afterward. I honestly thought I would fall off at least once. But I didn't! But the others did. Especially Navarre. He's a good rider but like I always say "never race Seth". He did. Seth had placed a few star pickets and rope around this tree that marked a corner. We all new it was there, but Navarre didn't. Wanting to overtake Seth he went on the inside of this tree. I didn't see him fall off but I saw the crash site.
"You alright?!" I parked my bike and walked over.
"Yeah. Mate, why did you put a damn rope there?" Navarre sat on the ground and glared at Seth.
"You are meant to avoid the rope! Not go through it." Seth replied. I walked over to his bike and looked at the clutch handle.
"And you need a new lever. But that's beside the point, are you hurt?" I looked at his neck and saw it was red.
"Yeah I got flippen rope burn." Navarre held his neck. I could see a red line going from the back of his neck to his chest.
"You need to ice that." Malley said.
"Pretty obvious isn't it?" Navarre groaned as he stood up.

Back at the shed we were all having a break. Nearly every conversation had something to do with bikes or quads. Navarre sat in a camping chair, holding a bag of ice on his neck.
"You going to ride again today?"
"Yeah definitely! I'm just going to rest for an hour or so. I'll have to use my dads 400 because mine has no clutch." Navarre replied glancing at his bike.
"All good." I replied. Hearing Malley's Yamaha come into action caused me to walk outside.
"We are heading out for a ride again. You coming?" Seth asked.
"You guys are killing me! I'll meet you's down at the sandy area." I groaned and started putting my helmet on. Jarrod Melville and Renaldo Cordeschie followed the boys down a few hills including 'Pops Hill' and to a small sandy area. You'd ride down a grassy stretch in second or third gear for about eight to ten meters and then lean right and power through a sandy berm. Then you would be going slightly uphill, over two little bumps in the ground and then a three foot climb where you would hit the accelerator to see if you could get airborne. Besides my back wheel drifting a few times I never got airborne. But everyone else did.
"Laylah!" Malley called me as I rode past him. He was stopped smack bang in the middle of the track. I rode up next to him.
"Snake! Back there!"
"What?! Where?" I yelled back looking everywhere.
"Black Snake. Hey Millen! Snake." Malley pushed his bike back and tried to find the slithering critter. Navarre (who had caught up with us) parked in front of me to see what the commotion was about.
"Snake!" I yelled to him.
"Snake? Where?!" Navarre stood up and scanned the area. Unfortunately the Black Snake had disappeared. After a few more rounds and Malley and Navarre managing to fall off a few times between them, we all headed back to the shed.