“THE BIG DANCE: HATTAH 2023”

The 2023 Penrite Hattah Desert Race, through the eyes of a desert racing virgin

OFFROAD DESERT RACING JUST ISN’T MY JAM, BABY!

From a young age, I have been naturally drawn to the high-flying excitement of motocross and supercross, as opposed to the offroad, cross-country and enduro-type dirt biking disciplines. And as a rider, I feel that the most exhilarating part of riding a dirt bike is when the wheels aren’t on the ground.

Whenever the topic of riding dirt bikes in the bush came up in conversation, I'd immediately have this mental image of Cletus from the Simpsons on an old clapped out farm bike, dodging trees and guffawing with joy. After all, isn’t bush riding just for people who are afraid of jumps and can’t motocross?

Ok, Ok... Prior to going to Hattah this year even I was aware that there is a lot more to the offroad scene than this, and that it’s a serious discipline in its own right. But, that said, the admittedly few interactions I’ve had with hardcore offroad or bush riding aficionados over the years hadn’t done much to dispel this view. In most cases, the offroad riders I'd met up 'til then were proud bogans, rocking chocolate-milk moustaches, and mullets that would impress Billy-Ray Cyrus. If the breeze happened to be strong enough to blow their ape-drapes to one side, it'd expose a neck redder than Jet Lawrence’s Honda. It was only natural then to assume that most offroad riders would be cut from the same cloth, right?

Now before any offroad enthusiasts who might be reading this get their camel-backs in a twist, I am aware – now - that my perception of all things to do with offroad motorcycling was pretty wide of the mark. But, when SPMX’s Steve Powell messaged me to ask me if I’d help him out with pit support at the upcoming Penrite Hattah Desert Race – apparently one of the most prestigious offroad racing events in the country, I was none the wiser.  “Prestigious” and “offroad” felt like an oxymoron to me - kind of like seeing Cletus wearing a tuxedo. So at first, I was more than a little dubious, but nonetheless I told him I’d give it some thought.

Ultimately, the weather made the decision for me. The rain forecast around home over the Hattah weekend spelled impending doom for my chances of getting a ride in at one of the local motocross tracks, and it also ruled out a lot of the jobs I had to do around home too. On the plus side, Powelly is a legend and I figured a road trip would be fun. Having the opportunity to run support for one of the best vet riders in the country would definitely make for a great story for the Mental4Moto website too. I messaged Powelly back to tell him that I was in.

***I figured a road trip with Powelly would be fun, and having the opportunity to run support for one of the best vet riders in the country would definitely be a great story for the website***

A GLITCH IN THE MATRIX?

A couple of days before we were due to depart on our road trip to Hattah, I had the first indication that maybe my assumptions about the offroad racing scene were a little off-the-mark. When I told a couple of good friends from the moto community about my plans to go to Hattah, their eyes lit up. The both told me how awesome an event it is, and assured me - despite my protests to the contrary - that I would absolutely LOVE it. These were people whom I like and respect. Could I have misjudged their good character? It felt like there was definitely a glitch in the matrix.

Powelly and I were due to depart Melbourne early on the Friday morning, and it came around quickly. Before I knew it, I found myself sitting shotgun next to him on the long drive to Hattah. I was no longer sure exactly what to expect, but I would soon be in it neck-deep, and I quickly needed some answers.

On the drive, I carefully picked Powelly’s brain with questions about the event, the track at Hattah, bike set-up, and the people that it attracts. I even threw in a couple of carefully concealed “trick” questions, just to make sure that, despite his motocross pedigree, Powelly wasn’t actually some closet bush-riding wacko. Deep down, I was still quietly confident that my assumptions about the offroad scene would ultimately be proven correct, and I was bracing myself for the worst. By the time we pulled into the small country town of Red Cliffs about 7 hours later, I was therefore a little surprised that the alarm bells had not yet started to ring. To the contrary, I was becoming more and more intrigued about the event, and how the rest of the weekend might unfold.

*On the drive to Hattah, I threw in a couple of* *carefully concealed “trick” questions, just to make sure that despite his motocross pedigree, Powelly wasn’t actually some closet bush-riding wacko.*

FRIDAY EVENING - A DIRT BIKING FAN-FEST!

When we pulled into Red Cliffs late on Friday afternoon, it resembled your typical, small Aussie country town. There was a bit of low-key hustle and bustle that you might expect anywhere in the lead up to any weekend, but not much more. I was expecting to see an abundance of moto-vans and trailers – a dead-giveaway that we were even in the right place – but they were few and far between. We spotted a tiny IGA supermarket, so we stopped outside, and I went in to pick up a few last-minute supplies and ask for directions to the local football oval, where the event sign-in was apparently taking place.

Up to this point, I’d still not seen anything that gave me a true indication of the scale of the Hattah Desert Race. The supermarket, and the surrounding streets of Red Cliffs, seemed no busier than those of any small residential suburb. So when we finally turned the corner to get our first site of the Red Cliffs football club, I was totally blown away. There were hundreds upon hundreds of cars parked around the venue, and everywhere I looked, promotional banners were flapping in the crisp evening breeze. The scene resembled a ProMX National on steroids. I would be lying if I said that my heart rate didn’t begin to climb.

As I soon learned, the evening before the Hattah Desert race is a celebrated affair in its own right. Once we completed registration and scrutineering, I wheeled Powelly’s FC350 under the massive inflatable Penrite arch onto the oval. The scene laid out before me was pretty awe inspiring. There, lined up in even rows, were close to 800 motorcycles – the bikes of every adult and junior competitor that would be taking part in the races over the weekend. I felt like I was literally amid a sea of dirt bikes as I added Powelly's Husky to the lineup.

As I soon learned, the evening before the Hattah Desert race at the Red Cliffs football oval is a celebrated affair in its own right!

Around the entire perimeter of the oval there were pit tents and pop-up shops where Hattah fans could buy merchandise, food, or join one of the many queues to meet and get autographs from their favourite riders. Everywhere I looked, there were people and dirt bikes.

The rules stipulate that all of the competitor's bikes have to stay parked on the oval until 8pm. So, with a couple of hours to burn, I strolled around with Powelly, bought some dinner, and took in the atmosphere. We looked at bikes, and I got to meet a handful of the many, many industry people and riders that Powelly is acquainted with. I was taken aback at just how friendly, chilled and “normal” everyone seemed to be. Much to my surprise, there was a distinct lack of mullets – far less even than your average motocross race meet. And my old mate Cletus the bush rider was nowhere to be seen.

Despite the cold temperatures and a bit drizzle, camping on the Murray was relatively easy and convenient

SATURDAY MORNING – MY FIRST TASTE OF HATTAH

That night, we camped on the banks of the mighty Murray River, where I briefly had a chance to meet the other members of the SPMX Offroad Race Team. Saturday morning greeted us with a light drizzle and some very chilly temperatures. Powelly and I had breakfast and packed up camp, and then made the ten-minute drive out to the race venue to set up our pit-tent, watch some of the juniors racing, and get ready for the senior prologue (qualifying), which is used to determine each competitor’s starting position for the main event on the Sunday.

After locating our designated pit area and setting up the pit-tent ready for Sunday, Powelly and I made our way across the road to watch some of the junior racing and eyeball the senior prologue track that he would be racing on later that afternoon.

When we got there, the junior big-wheel race was just beginning, and I got my first taste of what an offroad desert race was all about.  I got see up-close the sand, the ruts and the diverse terrain that these guys and girls would have to conquer. But the thing that struck me immediately was the speed and the sound of the bikes. It is distinct from motocross and supercross, in that for much of their time on the track, these desert racers are holding the throttle wide open, and going as fast as the bikes will take them.

By the time the junior riders were completing their first lap, I was totally enthralled. I felt like I was starting to get my head around the format, and comprehend what I was seeing, when it was time to head back to the van to start getting Powelly and his bike prepped for the senior prologue.

Back at the van, we got the FC350 out, and Powelly casually instructed me to make the final few adjustments to his bike while he geared-up. Fit the transponder, adjust the chain tension, set the correct tyre pressure, clean the silicon spray off the side panels, bleed the forks, and give the bike one final check-over to make sure it was ready to race.

Being the high-level mechanic and serious racer that Powelly is, I guess I’d just assumed that he’d be extremely sensitive about who touches his bike, especially moments before he’s about to hit the track to qualify for one of the biggest, most important races of the year. To be honest, I’m not even sure if, before that moment, he’d ever seen me pick up a spanner. Of course, this is all simple stuff that I’ve done a million times over on my own bike, but suddenly it felt like a pretty big responsibility. If there had of been a toilet nearby, I'm pretty sure I would have snuck away for a nervous pooh at that point.

Fortunately, I kept my shit together, both literally and metaphorically, and once I got to work, the nerves quickly subsided. Nonetheless, I will admit I checked the rear axle bolt at least three times to make sure it was tight.

The thing that struck me immediately when I first saw the racing was the speed and the sound of the bikes. It is distinct from motocross and supercross, in that for much of their time on the track, these desert racers are holding the throttle wide open, and going as fast as the bikes will take them. Pictured: Junior Hattah racers - (L) Memphis Trevena and (R) Mia Tongue

PROLOGUE

The prologue "race" is effectively a time-trial that takes place over a single lap of an 8km course. All of the riders are funnelled into chutes for each respective class, then take off two at a time at approximately 20 second intervals. The top-ten fastest riders outright get called back for a “shootout”. For everyone else, they only get one shot at it, so the stakes are high!

At 1pm, the senior Prologue began, commencing with the top 40 finishers from the 2022 Hattah Desert Race. Immediately, the excitement levels amongst the large crowd of spectators increased noticeably. I thought the junior racers were fast. Seeing the top pro riders, like Mason Semmens, Todd Waters, Jack Simpson and Cal Norton come thundering past was completely off the hook!

True to form, when it was Powelly’s turn, he got the holeshot and immediately pulled away from the other vet rider he’d started alongside. As he roared past me, he looked smooth, fast, and much to my relief, his transponder and back wheel were still firmly attached to the bike.

We wouldn’t know Powelly’s final qualifying position until every one of the 500 or so senior riders had completed the prologue, so with nothing urgent on the to-do list for a while, this was the first real opportunity I’d had to take some photos, and to really take in the atmosphere of Hattah. While Sunday’s “Big Dance” had not even begun, I was already falling in love with this event.

When the results finally came up on the big screen a couple of hours later, we made our way over to the pit area to see how Powelly had gone. He'd qualified a very respectable 64th outright, and recorded the second fastest time in the 35+ Vet class, in which he was competing against riders that were up to 10 years his junior. So far, so good!

The Penrite Hattah Desert Race attracts some of the best riders from disciplines including motocross, offroad and desert racing. Pictured: (L-R) - #3 jack Simpson, #47 Todd Waters, #9 Nathan Trigg, #4 Andrew Wilksch, #7 Sam Pretscherer

THE BIG DANCE!

This year, the Penrite Hattah Desert Race would be contested over a 38km circuit, with the top riders expected to complete 8 laps of the course during the 4+ hour race duration.

To quote Powelly, who has raced the event several times in the past: “The first two laps are the most fun you can have with your pants on! After that, the track just gets rougher and rougher, until each lap feels like absolute torture!”.

With the pre-race rider’s briefing set to kick off at 8:30am sharp, teams this year did not have a lot of time to get everything organised. So, on Sunday morning, we reluctantly dragged our butts out of bed an hour before sunrise. The temperature was painfully cold, but thankfully it wasn’t raining. In the darkness, we gulped down a quick coffee, packed up camp, and headed off towards the race venue.

I’m told that in previous years, the competitor's vans and trailers could be parked directly behind the pit tents. To me, this seems entirely reasonable for a four-plus-hour endurance race where all manner of mechanical things could (and do) go wrong throughout the day. This year, however, the teams were informed that during the race, support vehicles and trailers were not permitted to be in the pits. So, before the rider’s briefing began, every single team had to get their vehicles to their pit, unload the bikes and every piece of equipment that they might need throughout the day, and then relocate their vehicles and trailers to the general parking area. It was a sure-fire recipe for chaos!

When we arrived at the venue shortly before daybreak, the sight that greeted us was one of absolute bedlam, with the entry to the pits gridlocked and everybody trying to get through to their pit area so they could set up. It was a situation that had the potential to escalate into an “every person for themselves”, scenario. But, to the enormous credit of the riders and teams, everybody kept their cool, and despite the considerable pressure everyone was under, the courtesy and comradery I observed throughout the pits during the morning’s chaos was exemplary.

We were extremely fortunate this year as the weather was perfect. I can only imagine how much more difficult it would be if teams had to have all of the rider’s spare gear, tools, food, equipment and spares out in the wind and rain. In any case, that is a conversation for another day! On this occasion, everything went relatively smoothly, and we managed to get all four of the SPMX riders, including Powelly, to the start line on time, ready for the big race!

The start of the Penrite Hattah Desert Race is unique, and definitely gets the heart rate going!

For those who have never seen it, the start of the Penrite Hattah Desert Race is extremely cool. After the rider’s briefing and the rest of the formalities are complete, all the competitors line up on their bikes facing the enormous crowd of spectators. The riders are positioned in five rows, with one hundred riders in each row. The position of each rider is, or course, determined by their prologue time.  Once the race is officially declared underway, an ATV commences driving slowly in front of the first row of riders, beginning with the fastest qualifier. As the ATV passes, each rider takes off, one at a time. While this is happening, the sound of all the other riders revving their bikes in the background is akin to a hive full of angry hornets. As each rider starts the race, it’s like one of those hornets is firing out of the nest.

This continues until eventually all of the riders, nearly five hundred all-up, have left the starting area. The reason that a good qualifying time is so important is because each rider that takes off, they have a progressively larger “head start” over all of the other riders that they beat in the prologue on the previous day. And, of course, the riders who go through first get better track conditions than those further back.

IT’S GO TIME FOR TEAM SPMX!

The SPMX Offroad Race Team at this event consisted of four riders. Steve Powell, who was entered in the 35+ Vet class. Ray Bell and Brad “Hermo” Hermans, who were both competing in the 450cc four-stroke class. And Jared “Spud” Terrill, who was racing the 250cc four-stroke class. Undertaking pit duties for team SPMX, were myself, and Ray’s wife Casey.

After watching the iconic start, I made my way back to the pits to dig the “pit trench” and make the final few preparations. It would take about 31 minutes for the race leader to complete the first lap of the 38km circuit. After that the real fun would begin, as we knew we could expect our riders to start coming through within five or six minutes of the leader.

At Hattah, the 1km long section of track that weaves through the pit area is actually part of the racetrack. To one side of the racetrack that runs through the pit area is a narrower lane. This allows riders to get off the race line at the last second as they approach their pit. So, while you are refuelling and getting your rider sorted with a fresh set of goggles, sustenance etc, there’s riders still roaring past only a few metres away. This adds a real sense of urgency.

During the race, the atmosphere around the pit area is simply electric. The best way I can describe the entire process is that it is a symphony of organised chaos. I finally understood why it gets called the “Big Dance”.

The first of our riders to complete the opening lap was Powelly. As he approached our pit, I jumped out into pit lane, waving a fluoro green rag around my head like a mini-lasso, to guide him in towards the “trench” we had dug in front of the tent.

In that split second, I became acutely aware that we had not really spoken in any real detail about exactly what a pit stop entailed. We certainly hadn’t practised a pit stop ahead of time. But that was irrelevant now - it was either our time to shine, or fail miserably - and we would be flying by the seats of our pants! We had the quick-fill jug ready to go, and Powelly’s spare goggles, gloves, gel packs and an assortment of sugar-rich snacks were lined up on a camp table at the front of the pit tent for quick, easy access.

I’d love to say we nailed the pit stops from the get-go. But that first one was a bit of a red-hot mess. As Powelly leapt off his bike – the engine must be off and the rider must dismount when refuelling – Casey grabbed the handlebars to prevent the bike from falling over, as we’d planned a few minutes earlier, and I quickly removed the fuel cap from the bike. In true amateurish fashion, I sat the fuel cap on the bike seat to pick up the fuel jug. As I turned the fuel jug upside down and jammed it into the tank to start filling, I realised the breather cap on the jug wasn’t closed property, and to stop fuel leaking everywhere I had to right the jug momentarily to close it. In the process, I knocked the fuel cap off the seat, which, just like a piece of toast covered with jam, landed with the important side down in the sand! So once I’d finished refuelling, I quickly picked up the cap and wiped it down with my fluoro green rag, in the process dislodging the breather hose, which then promply also fell in the sand. Urrgghhh!

While all of this transpired in a matter of seconds, in the heat of the moment it truly felt like minutes had passed before we had the fuel cap and breather hose back on the bike. The whole time, riders were buzzing past us on the track. Despite my fumbling mess, Powelly was a picture of composure and patience. As soon as we were done, Powelly jumped back on, and with the push of a button and the a twist of the throttle, he was away for lap two.

After that, our pit stop technique definitely improved. There were still a few minor hiccups here and there, but for the most part we got our riders in and out of the pits without too much fuss. (Note to self -if I ever get invited to do pit support again  I will definitely make the effort to familiarise myself with the different fuel jugs, fuel caps and run throughe pit-stop process with each rider on the team ahead of time!!!)

After a couple of minor hiccups early on, we eventually got our pit-stop routine pretty dialed in. Rider: Ray Bell

Upon leaving the pits following his second pit-stop, I worked out that Powelly, who was running a 12L tank, should be able to complete two laps on a single tank of fuel with a bit over a litre to spare. So, as he came toward our pit on the next lap, I waved him on enthusiastically, shouting “Go, go, go!”. He veered back onto the race line and rode past past our pit with full intensity.

A short time later, we started hearing reports that lots of teams had miscalculated their fuel consumption, causing their riders to run out of fuel mid-lap. We then found out this is exactly what happened to one of the riders from the team pitted next to us. Casey looked at me grinning. “I really hope you were right about Powelly’s fuel” she said cheekily. I felt a knot forming in my stomach. I was pretty confident that if Powelly ran out of fuel on my account, I would be facing a long walk back from Hattah to Wonthaggi. I’m pretty sure I held my breath for the next 25 minutes, and when he did finally appear again at the end of that lap, I let out a big sigh of relief.

As it worked out, our team of four riders ended up being quite evenly spaced throughout the race, coming through to pit at fairly regular 8-10 minute intervals. This made our role in the pits busy, but very manageable, and we quickly established a bit of a routine. We were also never on our own. I’m pretty sure we didn’t field a single pit stop where someone from another team didn’t jump in to help us, and this was happening throughout the whole of the pits. So naturally, we did the same for the other teams around us. Despite the enormity of the event, once again it was just another example of what an amazing and united group of people the offroad community is.

SUPERHUMANS?!

Whilst I had never been to (or even watched) an offroad enduro or desert race before this, I have participated in physical endurance events in other sports, and based on those experiences, I really expected to see an element of riders “pacing themselves” at Hattah. After all, anyone who has ever ridden or raced a dirt bike knows just how physically taxing it can be. I find riding a fifteen-minute moto exhausting, and before this I would have thought that racing an offroad bike for four plus hours at full speed would not be physically possible.

***More than 4 hours into the race, the speed and intensity remained incredibly high. Pictured: Jack Simpson***


However, as the hours ticked by, we got deeper into the race and the track became rougher and rougher, I was absolutely astounded as there was visibly no let-up in how hard these guys and girls were going. To the eye, the body language and speed of the riders on lap four, five and beyond, and the intensity with which they were racing, was no different to what we saw on lap one. It was unbelievably impressive, and a testament to just how much time and preparation is devoted in the lead up to race like this.

Normally, I am told, the organisers of the Penrite Hattah Desert Race calculate it so that the lead riders complete eight laps of the circuit in just over four hours. This year, the rain in the lead up to the event, and the subsequently rougher conditions, obviously threw those calculations off.

As a result the race leader, Mason Semmens, completed his seventh lap at around the 3-hour, 55-minute mark. This meant that every rider coming though in the forty-or-so minutes behind Semmens would still need to complete one more lap of the 38km long circuit to finish. Consequently, for many riders, they would end up racing for around 5 whole hours, and in some cases, even more.

“JUST ONE MORE LAP!”

One of the things that interests me most when it comes to dirt bike racing is the mental aspect of the sport. Working with the guys on the SPMX Offroad Race Team at this event gave me an up-close window into what these riders put themselves through, and more importantly what drives them – especially during the toughest moments - at an event like Hattah. As our riders came through the pits for the final time, the race had been going for well over 4 hours. Casey and I had to let them know that they still had one more lap to go. After this amount of time, the race would normally be finished, so no doubt this was somewhat crushing news. All around us, I observed other teams going through the same thing.

***Jarod “Spud” Terrill, minus the peak of his helmet due to an earlier crash, heads out for his final lap of the gruelling, 38km track***

The immediate reaction from our riders was completely understandable. “I’m cooked”. “I’m done”. “I am absolutely spent”. “I just can’t do another lap”. Of course, we tried to pump them up with words of encouragement. But words of encouragement, when we aren’t the ones that have to endure another 38km on the most brutal, roughest track imaginable, felt pretty hollow. These brief moments of defeat and doubt were short lived, though, and one by one, each of our riders chomped down on the bit and went out again to complete the final lap.

For each of them, I feel like that ingredient that kept them from quitting was different, and distinctly unique to each of their respective personalities. When every cell in their bodies was no doubt begging them to quit, they all dug deep, and they found a reason within themselves that compelled them to keep going. For me, as an observer, it was actually a truly inspiring moment, and a privilege to witness.

THE AFTERMATH

One by one, our riders crossed the finished line after completing their final lap, and made their way back to the pit where we were waiting. They were all battered, bruised, and understandably, totally and utterly exhausted.

Powelly got off his bike and collapsed in a camp chair. It took him several minutes just to find the energy to remove his helmet.

Ray couldn’t even find the energy to get off his bike and sat parked in the trench at the front of our pit for at least 20 minutes, reflecting on what he had just been through.

Hermo parked up his bike, started removing his gear and pouring water over himself, as if to try and cleanse himself of the physical hell he’d just gone through.

Spud, amazingly, still seemed to have a spring in his step as he climbed off his bike, and he was the first to crack a smile and give everyone a round of high-fives.

They all wore the physical scars of their achievement. Their faces were covered in sand and snot and half-dried saliva. Their hands, despite being taped, were bleeding and covered with weeping, broken blisters. And all over their bodies, they bore bruises and welts – the tell-tale scars that come from getting sand-blasted and roosted for much of the last 5 hours.

Aside from Powelly, I barely know these guys at all. But I couldn’t help but feel immensely proud of what they’d just achieved. And I felt truly honoured to have been able to share in that brief moment.

***To hell and back again: Powelly gives Ray a hug after finishing the race***

A CONVERT IN THE MAKING?

Having now had an opportunity to reflect on my experiences up at Hattah, what have I taken away from this event, and what have I learned?

For a start, the offroad racing community are some of the friendliest, dedicated, and most selfless people I have ever come across in my life. This extends to Powelly and the rest of the SPMX Offroad Race Team as well. Despite having so much on their own plates to deal with over the weekend, everyone I met was friendly, patient, and willing to chip in and help without a moment’s hesitation.

As for the event itself, I am still buzzing. Hattah pushes both man and machine to the absolute limit, and sometimes past it. I LOVE motocross, but this was, without a doubt, the most amazing motorcycling event I have ever been to. Every rider that takes part in the Hattah Desert Race, whether they are racing for the win, or just ticking an item off the bucket-list, has my most profound admiration and respect.

So, has Hattah changed my views about offroad riding and racing? Most definitely. Though I’m still not that keen on riding a dirt bike in the bush just for kicks, I do love a personal challenge, and would definitely love to give Hattah a crack one day. Now, if only someone could teach me how to ride sand…

For all of the race results from the 2023 Hattah Desert Race, click here

A massive thanks everyone on the SPMX Offroad Race Team for letting me share in their Hattah experience!