Patricia Wolf, Honda XR250

Patricia Wolf and Frank Zotti: Dakar goal centered with success!

Friends dakariani, We found among the dusty stacks of magazines, an interview with Motosprint to Franco Zaki and the late Patricia Wolf. There seemed dutiful and respectful to not give it a space on this site.

The Paris-Dakar race is a race hard enough in itself, but there is always someone who decides to complicate it further with some outlandish idea as to leave the French capital on three wheels, in sidecar or trike, or relying on reduced power of a 125 or a 250, being then to flounder at walking pace in the sand.

Usually these initiatives where they believe little even the same protagonists, that reflect the way home after a few days of Africa. Make exception to the category Franco Zotti and Patricia Wolf, departed from Italy to reach Dakar Edition 1989 riding two Honda XR 250 four-stroke.

"I did it because if you get to the finish line with a 600 you're Nobody explains Zaki — while finishing the race with a quarter of a litre is worth something more».

Gorizia, Twenty-nine years, Zakaria is the second Dakar after a brief participation in the 88, of which you spoke because to try to increase the budget jumped into water from a high bridge 22 metres. This year instead of to finance itself has quit his job…

«Risk his life by jumping into a river to raise pennies is madness, for this I gave up. I quit my job and settling for the ten years that I worked as ma-gazziniere I paid membership. For the bike, the mechanic and the expenses I made of debts. Once home I'll find another job and to pay. Isn't it crazy. Everyone has their dreams and if I arrive in Dakar I will have fulfilled my».

For Patricia Wolf instead, to run with a 250 wasn't exactly a choice. "In reality, After the course the Pharaons Rally didn't even come to Dakar the idea came when I was at the car dealership will run in to order the bike with which Ormeni 89 Maximum Orme-ni offered me to participate with a bike identical to that of Zamindar that was ready. I couldn't refuse».

27-year-old German Darmstadt, Patrizia is coming to Italy three years ago for one of his first races and hasn't most gone.

"I started running in the enduro in Germany, but is Bergamo the capital of this specialty, so I stop-ta finding a sponsor in IPA (a company that manufactures prefabricated) that today is also the company I work for. Eventually I'll have to leave Dakar but basically my favorite specialty is enduro. To run just a motorcycle and away, without much trouble to support».

Graduated in architecture at the University of Frankfurt, ipersportiva (to train practical jogging and cycling), Patrizia discovered in Africa love of motorcycles. It was in Algeria, in Tamanrasset, to practice free climbing, another of his favorite specialties, and he saw every day some biker departing or returning from the slopes. Until someone didn't try. "I enjoyed it very much and so I ended up changing sport, also because I came back from Africa all flayed for a fall while climbing a wall and because I no longer friends with the same passion».

His second Paris-Dakar rally was the only woman in the race. Traveling at a speed that in the sand does not exceed 60 km/h frank and Patrizia travel one side by side, helping each other to get out of trouble when needed. Shoulders have a bundle of seven to eight pounds between tools and replacement parts. All you need for luck. The imperative is to stop only in Dakar.

Ed. Franco and Patrizia regularly arrived in Dakar on their little Honda, at 31° and 32° position, on 60 bike to the finish!

winker5-1989

A history of wilderness and fear with a happy ending, signed Aldo Winkler

Mario and Giorgio have done for me line up on the phone, calling me once I get my turn. It took a while’ time to talk with Paola because the operator was struggling to take the international line and had to repeat several times the number. For three days my wife received from me in cursorily, but all in all reassuring. We talked, disturbed by the presence of people in the queue. I offer another cigarette and smoke it again while answering questions and greetings to those who did not expect to see me cross the threshold of the Sofitel Gaweye Hotel of Niamey. When he finally Let's Eat is past midnight. The hotel restaurant is closing, but agree to make an exception to the rule. And’ Smart and clean: but I still wearing the outfit, boots included.

Touch the gri gri de la bonne route, the good-luck charm that for five years, Since I attend a competition in Africa, I always tied at waist, and I cannot but admit that her role as "Guide" has done this time too. I haven't eaten in four days, but I'm not hungry and I'm surprised a little’ I feel rather than have the stomach stuck. But when it's smoked salmon devour him in a Flash and I do the same with the grilled Tenderloin and French fries. The last meal, If you could call it, I did on the evening of 2 January in Termit dividing a piece of bread and a little’ with Roberto Boano. At the camp there was no truck of Africatours so we were left without dinner. Did not bring even the water and the only ration I could find was the half litre given to me by the service truck-Aprilia. With that I started towards Agadez on the morning of 3 January.

Meanwhile, a growing number of people around me who wants to listen to my story of ' Survivor ' and I start to tell reverting to a few tens of kilometers from the start… My Honda starts to burst, then turns off. I think they're clogged jets, or dirty fuel filter. Clean each other, and allotment for a track with many tracks. At least here will pass someone. I headed to la Falaise of Roaming until, near a large dune, the tracks cut eastwards. The signs of the road book however are different and I decide to follow them. I am not alone, on the sand i see the signs of the passage of three other motorcycles.

The engine shuts off again a little further on and again breaks down once cleaned the jets and the petrol filter. I reach an erg full of dunes and the engine shuts down again. The wind blows strong, and when I completed the ritual cleaning of the carburetor, He completely erasing your tracks. I decide to go back, to resume the longest joke. When I reach the oued of Egadò is now dark, so I decide to stop there to spend the night. I'm alone and I start to work on the bike in peace, scattering the pieces a little’ everywhere. I remove the saddle, I clean the air filter, the carburetor. I haven't finished replace when I approach the silent three guys, dressed in bright clothing. I'm hostile, but I realize only once gone taking with them my gloves, other things I had scattered here and there and especially the bottle with its precious water content. We lacked even this. I console myself thinking that I still have with me a sleeping bag.

The first light of day are already up. Rewind fast sleeping bag, do one last checked and put into motion. I walk the oued until crossing the tracks left by the passage of the race. I'm on the right track. Another fifteen kilometers and the bike stops again. This time permanently. Broke the brass housing of the main Jet. With the carburetor under these conditions it is utopian to think of leaving. I keep lambiccarmi the brain on a disconsolate carburetor, then I decide to turn the balise. Is something I wouldn't do. How to shoot the switch you are officially out of the race. Your Dakar is over. But considering that while the ride is firm to Agadez to the rest day I'm stuck here I don't see alternatives. Actions the fateful switch and wonder a bit’ because the red light stays off. I am convinced that only lights up to signal the last six hours of battery life which controls the functioning, and that the TSO is already aware of my position. I'll never know during the days spent in the desert that balise is broken and does not send any signals.

After a couple of hours I rather the evidence to the contrary when I see pass over my head a plane in your organization who sees me and sends me a message. I have to write my race number on the sand, and stay close to the bike. I'm on the right track and the truck broom will meet me. The plane leaves without letting me have. Nothing to eat and especially anything to drink. The thirst begins to be felt and the little water that I have taken away the tuareg. However I have localized and send relief efforts. I begin to speculate on truck balai, on how long it will be before your arrival. Cabbage, I tell myself, I lost the race, but patience. Even Gauri is withdrawn and will be waiting to Agadez. Once together we could get back on track, with the service truck, We could retrieve the bike, fix it, and cross the Tenere from tourists. I never have and idea fascinates me. Then we can proceed to Dakar, take the bikes and return to Italy.

It's just one of my many thoughts. The head blending to thousands and the time never goes. I think back to a book on the life of the tuareg and how they spend entire days in the desert properties like stones. I try to imitate them, but with poor effect.

I find myself counting the minutes, the second and with the slow passing of hours my confidence to see appearing the truck of salvation begins to fade. After dark the feeling of isolation is even greater, and decreases the hope. Begins to take shape the awareness that I might die. Not afraid, resignation.

You are welcome, I cry, I tell myself that I didn't give it to the people that I love all you deserve. I think a lot, Too much. I thinking that my wife will remain alone. Do I testament, dictating my last will and Testament on the pages of the logbook I have inside your wallet. Not a true testament. Is a letter to Paola. A love letter. I can get to sleep and when I sleep I dream falls, bathtubs, mineral water. Only aquatic dreams, but you can understand. I suffer thirst even more of solitude. At Sunrise starts my 3rd day scattered. Are increasingly pessimistic about the chance of being found. I'm starting to think the truck may have already passed two days before balai where I am right now. I stopped by while I was camped on the oued in a then-China kilometers away. Might also be finished off course, as indeed was, and never go more to get.

I spend the morning in searching, then I decide to move. Tomorrow I might be too weak to do it, But today coming back for fifteen kilometres will rejoin the oued where I met the tuareg and maybe I'll find a drink.

There are now three days I don't drink, his lips are dry and burns your throat. Shuffle all my stuff, and before we leave, I draw a big arrow, with the tip pointing in the direction in which I set out. Then I load on his shoulders the sleeping bag. From that I really don't want to separate myself. I thought a very short ride in motion. Walking is a tremendous gear. Journey plan for ri-save energy. What interests me is to get there before dark.

I'm luckier than I expected. After six hours of walking I reach the oued ed instead of the tuareg rogue I find a very family friendly and welcoming. The man is old, much older than the woman living with him and five children, three males and two females. Don't speak French, but we intend to gestures. They understand that I'm very thirsty and give me to drink. Non-water, as I'm dreaming for three days, but camel milk. And milked from morning and curdle in its metal case. Has a sour taste, strong, almost disgusting, but is my salvation. The smallest child is sick, have a fever. I offer to give her an aspirin and the father accepts. I realize how this meeting has loosened the tension, how she rekindled hope. No more lonely. Are only abandoned. Now I have to find a way to get out of trouble. From a difficult dialogue with the tuareg emerge precise directions. You can reach Agadez traveling for twelve days by camel or you cross the asphalt road in Tanak and in this case the journey is much shorter: just five days.

I decide to settle for starting the next morning towards Tanak and while we try to understand the three tuareg who robbed. I explain to the old my misadventure but I regret it because now claims that I returned the stolen goods. The result is a violent and incomprehensible dispute followed by a start to Brawl, but fortunatamene you stop to threats. I returned everything, except the canteen which let to their camp, distance 10 km. My attempts to explain that it's not the bottle to be interested but only go back home as soon as possible fall into the void.

The tuareg makes it a matter of principle and tomorrow we set off by camel only after rescuing.

An operation that will unnecessary extra walking comporte, but my guide doesn't want to listen to reason. Meanwhile I spend time making myself useful. Shelter a water bottle made with an air Chamber by truck using patches that I had with me to remedy any punctures. An operation that increases my popularity in the family. Live from tuareg fascinates me and surprise me.

Don't eat anything. They eat camel milk, tea, who drink several times a day following a ceremonial complex. To prepare the drink is the man. Is heat a container of water in the ashes. Once warm, the transferred into another container with the tea leaves and from that to a more. Decanting follow each other endlessly before finally getting the glasses. The father realizes the ropes using bundles of grass. My first night by tuareg is not as hard as the two from dispersed. It will take time and patience, but I will get to the asphalt and salvation. By camel. The next day I would like to start at dawn, but there is the bottle to be recovered and to carry out the mission goes almost the whole morning. The tuareg,no hurry and are slow, extremely slow. And inutile che mi agitate. I'm one of them and I have to adapt to their rhythms. Rather I try to learn to ride the camel, but it's not easy. I would be ready for the first leg, but still no one part.

Passes noon and I keep looking at the clock. Are the 12.35 When I pass overhead a plane of Dakair. There I was hoping for more. I look at it, but don't try to attract attention. I looked at him fixedly and nor do I think for a moment the possibility of not being seen. Passes on me again, and I understand that I must report my presence. I'm starting to get excited, and I write my number on the sand. Also point out that I need food. I threw a message and an energy ration. In the package, reached after many peripe-aunts, There's a reassuring promise: "in an hour and a half will be taking the helicopter». I'm sure this time will keep the word. My friend Tuaregs can do without escort me in and I will be back to full speed Tanak Agadez. The helicopter is punctual and before stepping abandonment to wind the testament.

When we land in Agadez Dakair managers, who coordinated the research, I'm happy as I am that this bad adventure is over. They too have slept very little and are tired. Just Uncorked a bottle of champagne and a glass to make me shoot a little’ the head. Then we all start at a time of Niamey. With me there's Beppe Gauri who collaborated with Dakaír in rescue operations following especially my research. In a few hours they are before the grilled tenderloin with potato now safe. I try to answer all questions and I think I'd be much happier if you are interested in me because I managed to win a stage, Maybe just a fluke.

I think I would not have wanted to leave the motorcycle in the desert, because Mario, My mechanic, He had worked so hard to get it ready to race. It was a beautiful bike, but old. It's only for this which has broken. Why was old.

I also think that this experience has given me much, more than if I had finished the race, that photos taken with the automatic along with the Tuaregs will be among the most valuable of my album. I think that this experience has left its mark, that something in me has changed. If I return to Paris-Dakar? Leave me a little’ time to think about it.

ALDO WINKLER – PARIS DAKAR 1989

source motosprint
Photo motosprint and archive fb Aldo Winkler

Pilet 1989

Pilet on Honda XR 250 R

M. Pilet on Honda XR 250 R, 21º in General of the Dakar 1989 only 20’00”30 by Anita!

motogruptortugas.blogspot.it

Suzuki DR 800 1989-1

Suzuki DR 800 BIG Z 1989

Even the yellow Suzuki Gaston Rahier is practically equal to the motion seen in the edition of the Dakar rally 1988. The more substantial interventions include throttle, plus up to 810 CC increased power and softened simultaneously in the provision to improve its behavior since the minimal throttle openings.

Magnesium crankcase, new carburetors and new air filter increase engine breathing. Their exclusive scooling system SACS most oil-air, with large circulation of lubricant in the head and cylinder.
The distribution is SOHC with four valves and double ignition to accelerate the spread of flame front. Five-speed gearbox and clutch in oil bath. The power exceeds 65 horses with a substantial pair of well 8,7 Kgm right from low revs.

The main tank is made of aluminum as rear speakers, to contain as much as possible the weight, now reduced to 151 Kg dry weight According to official statements.

The line similar to DR Big normally for sale, is characterized by pronounced “beak”, careened to improve aerodynamic efficiency.

The frame is chromoly steel beam with double cradle under the engine with a new geometry and arrangement of weights to improve driveability, already very good.

The geometry of the rear suspension has been revised to change the progression of the shock absorber and fork has been replaced with another more dimensioned, more wide and made from “full”. The right auxiliary tank was reduced in size to accommodate the long tailpipe completely produced in titanium.

Gaston Rahier will conclude the Dakar 1989 11th, Charbonnier 14°.

Honda NXR750

Honda NXR 750 1989

In Japan when they decide to make a joke and didn't know quite how to make winning bike. Honda NXR 750 It's a real prototype created to win the world's toughest race.
Honda showed up at the start with the NXR 750, a twin-cylinder 8 valves 780 cm ³ capable of over 75 horses, with a dry weight of around 160 kg: the result was that Neveu and Anita concluded on the first and second place.
The following year Neveu made bis, before Edi Orioli. Friulano won the 1988 his first Dakar Riding the same bike used by Neveu the previous year, While in 1989, Anita led to fourth success in a row the latest evolution of the NXR. In 1990 Honda decided not to continue with this experience.

Aprilia Tuareg Wind 600 1989

Aprilia Tuareg Wind 600 1989

For the first time the Aprilia participates in Dakar 1989 formally: pilots are Vinod B and Scott Freeman., two renowned specialists of African marathons, and the bikes come from Tuareg Wind 600 by series.

Are modified for specific use in Dakar with a large main tank that doubles as a fairing while the fairing with twin headlights remains that of series. The engine is the classic four-valve single cylinder Rotax widerevised by Open mind-lia in order to increase the reliability.

The cooling air remains but an oil cooler was added to the existing one, to decrease the temperature of the lubricating oil. Rated power 46 horses, equal to the series despite being reduced the compression ratio to use poor fuel octane. The fuel is sent to Dellorto by a vacuum pump connected to the engine.

In addition to gasoline tanks there are two more seats down in front of the engine, that contain water are mandatory escort 5 liters of the liquid that the pilot can drink directly into the race by a small electric pump operated by a switch on the handlebars.

The dashboard has an abundant number of tools with oil thermometer, tachometer, trip master and a small traditional compass. The chassis is derived from the motorcycle for sale and is normally based on a steel beam frame with special-shaped tube dra.

Suspensions see increased considerably the hike and the swingarm po-aluminum hydraulic extension is now. For the brakes at the front there is a double disc with single piston floating Brembo calipers clamping, While behind the only disk size 220 mm.

For the article and photos we thank Andrea Torresani

Ecureuil BMW Hutin of the Dakar 1989

Ecureuil BMW Dakar 1989

Official BMW twin-cylinder boxer engines using 1020 CC, the team Ecureuil recurs at Dakar 1989 with the same revolutionary bike used the previous year. French is the prerogative of the bike futuristic monocoque made of composite material of carbon fiber and kevlar, that replaces the usual tube frame.

The entire shell weighs only 6 kg and is broken down into three pieces: the front fork supports, the upper floor doubles as smain tank and the lower contains motor, return and attack of the swingarm. In case of breakage during the race, the same driver can remove the motor. The steering column is adjustable in inclination in order to adapt it to the characteristics of the route.

The main changes compared to the previous model relate to the shock absorber upper attachment properly reinforced, and fastening of the swingarm, now more robust and better designed. The fork is “overturned” with a range of 300 mm, the swingarm is made of light alloy and acts on two damping places much forward to bolstering understanding rear wheel travel is now giving 280 mm.

Dry weight declared is less than 170 kg; an outstanding result due to the massive use of lightweight material used at compo-site. The German engine is eighty horses of accredi- 6500 RPM; distribution pushrod and rocker arm with only two valves per cylinder, Automatic ignition advance electro-electronic, nagalla also for Bing Carburetors power vacuum from 40 mm. The clutch is dry, five-speed gearbox and final drive shaft.

Motion by Francis Farah
Photo by Yogesh Chandra