Bignardi-1991-3

Brenno Brignardi and his “troubles” the Dakar 1991

Penultima tappa: Kiffa-KayesTambacounda.
Sono stanco e come tutti, sono consumato dalla fatica e dallo stress di questa gara. L’ho voluta fortemente, sentivo di dovermi regalare questa avventura. La vivevo come un modo per chiudere un cerchio aperto tanti anni prima, in 1976.
Un cerchio legato ad uno sport stupendo fatto di natura, motori, amici. Uno sport che era un mondo. In questa avventura africana ero in compagnia di un carissimo amico, amico sin da quando questo sport si chiamava regolarità.

La sua presenza mi dava forza e serenità. Alla vigilia della penultima tappa ero felice, dopo settimane di km, sabbia e difficoltà manca solamente una tappa. Ero quasi riuscito a portare a termine la gara più dura del mondo. Obviously, come tutti gli outsider, navigavo nelle retrovie della classifica ma la Dakar a quei tempi non era solo classifica, per alcuni era sicuramente importante arrivare davanti ma per molti era importantissimo e sfidante arrivare al lago rosa, al traguardo.
Fino a quel punto ero riuscito a portare a termine tutte le giornate di gara senza incorrere in penalità dovute a eccessivo ritardo al traguardo di tappa. Questo anche grazie anche all’aiuto di Aldo, grande esperto dakariano.

Nella vita, come nelle gare, mai dare niente per scontato, a maggior ragione alla Dakar. La tappa prevedeva 572 km totali, 283 km di prova speciale. Alla fine della prova speciale, il trasferimento prevedeva un percorso su una strada di laterite molto polverosa. Decidiamo di viaggiare separati fino a Tambacounda per evitare di riempirci di polvere. Ognuno di noi parte in solitaria e ci diamo appuntamento all’arrivo. Ricordo che sto viaggiando tranquillo quando a 180km dalla destinazione si rompe il mono ammortizzatore. In mezzo ad una gara così selettiva ci possono essere tanti tipi di rotture. Purtroppo il mio mono si ruppe in modo tale che non riuscii a bypassarlo collegando i leveraggi direttamente al forcellone.

Mi avrebbe permesso di avere una moto con un assetto normale, pur senza la funzione ammortizzante. Instead, è fatta: la moto è completamente sdraiata, quindi decido di continuare il mio viaggio in questo modo sperando che il copertone posteriore regga. Ma nel deserto ogni problema ne richiama altri, la ruota tocca il parafango e si consuma. Mentre viaggio mi sono voltato spesso a guardare indietro ma vedevo solo polvere e pezzi neri di copertone. Ancora oggi non so perché, non c’erano molti appigli ma lo stesso speravo in un miracolo, che ovviamente, non accadde.
At some point, come normale succeda, rimango senza copertone.

Sensazione unica difficile da fraintendere. I stop, scendo dalla moto. Osservo quel che rimane, due grossi anelli di metallo che costituivamo la spalla del copertone. Devo rimuoverli ma fra i miei attrezzi non ho quello adatto. Almeno non mi trovavo nelle dune del deserto ma lungo una strada, la carovana Dakar stava per passare di qua. Mi metto a pensare, a provare a trovare soluzioni. Sono troppo vicino alla fine per non tentare di tutto. Penso di poter aspettare la mia assistenza, di sicuro hanno una ruota e un ammortizzatore sul camion che risolverebbe la situazione. Questo significa attendere chissà quanto. Fino a quel momento ero riuscito ad evitarla, decisi quindi di arrangiarmi da solo. Mi sono fatto prestare un attrezzo per tranciare i due anelli di metallo da un equipaggio in auto che gentilmente si era fermato per aiutarmi. Eventually, Somehow, sono ripartito.

Ho fatto gli ultimi 60 chilometri sul cerchione e senza ammortizzatore, cercando di guidare il più possibile in piedi con il peso in avanti, saltando e rimbalzando ad ogni minima buca, cercando di sedermi solo quando non ne potevo più. La moto era difficile da direzionare andando piano perché era il lato del cerchione a comandare la direzione e quindi dovevo cercare di tenere un’andatura sostenuta. Non ricordo le volte in cui sono caduto. Ad un certo punto ho perso anche la sella. Sono andato avanti, sostenuto da non so quale forza di volontà. Quando sono arrivato a soli quindici chilometri dal controllo orario, ormai era buio ma sentivo di avercela fatta.


Sono arrivato, come una cometa, al controllo orario. Un cometa formata dalle scintille provocate dallo strisciare della marmitta sull’asfalto, come mi hanno riferito gli allibiti testimoni oculari: uno spettacolo pirotecnico inaspettato a Tambacounda. I commissari, anche loro divertiti dal mio arrivo scenografico, mi hanno assicurato che per pochi minuti non ho preso la penalità forfettaria per essere arrivato tardi al controllo. Ero arrivato. Ero l’uomo più felice del mondo. Al bivacco, dove la mia assistenza mi stava aspettando, neanche il tempo di salutarli che mi trovo con una birra fresca in mano e vengo battezzato immediatamente dal Team Assomoto “le motard de l’impossible”.

Tratto dai ricordi di Aldo Winkler su fb

rally-Paris-Dakar-03

Dakar 1985 | story of a Dakarian find

Text by Nicholas Bertaccini
Despite having been on so many posters hanging in the room or garage, the paris-dakar pilots have always been normal people, neighbors, classmates, childhood friends. They all have behind them stories similar to those of all of us, only at some point they pursued with great conviction a dream. A beautiful poem says that "taking yourself seriously is the only weapon of those who can't build talent from skills".

Our "heroes" have been able to recognize their talents and turn them into talent, that's why they don't need to take it too seriously and people remain in hand, Genuine.
Over the years we have told stories that have affected them, some of which reported directly by them. This one that follows is a nice story, that we happened to facilitate, Somehow.


It all starts with the #8217;meeting with Beppe Gauri at the beginning 2019, step that led to the realization of Dakar Lens. Beppe was one of the first to confront the potential return of image of certain companies. He who had started almost begging for sponsorships and ended up building a career. Like many, especially at ’beginning, what was advancing from one edition became part of the budget of the next. Then equipment was sold, motion and what’ to fund the next #8217;enterprise, at least the #8217;start.

 

gualini

 

When we spoke to Beppe he confided to us that he had slowly recovered much of the material concerning him, going up between buyers and collectors.
But the passion for Paris-Dakar has also put us in touch with fans and lovers of the race. One of these, maybe the most iconic one, it's definitely Pietro Manganoni, african race lover and guzzista up to the marrow.

One day he sends us pictures of a race suit he found in a market., a suit that the seller says belonged to one who "did the Dakar".
He sends us the photos and it's clear that it's a Gualini suit, that of 1985 riding a Yamaha Ténéré.
Let's turn the pictures to Beppe who confirms that those pants and that jacket are just his.

 

Whatsapp Image 2021-07-02 at 18.37.45 (5)

At that point Peter contacts the seller again and opts the complete. You see it in pictures, white and red with the patches of all the sponsors that the good Beppe had collected, Acerbis to Brembo.
The next step is to connect Pietro and Beppe for a rendezvous in Bergamo, hometown of both. For the occasion#8217 peter will also involve Claudio Towers, bringing together a part of that Bergamo battalion that gave the #8217 assault on the Dakar in the 1980s.

Meoni 2002

DAKAR 2002 | Fabrizio's second

Text by PIERO BATINI – (MOTO.IT)

When Fabrizio Meoni wins his first Dakar, in 2001, the history of the famous African marathon turns the page to open one of its most beautiful chapters. Fabrizio gives KTM his first win, and in the Mattighoffen Factory the enthusiasm for the Dakar explodes, until then nourished above all by the passion of Heinz Kinigadner. Stefan Pierer, the owner of KTM, flies to Dakar to hug his Champion on the Pink Lake Beach, and with tears in his eyes for emotion he lets go, announcing not only that the Factory will engage even more on the legendary competition but also that KTM will even descend on the Moto GP tracks.

We're talking about 20 years ago, and only now can we say that that of the Austrian Boss had not been a unseated end in itself, but the anecdote only serves to make us understand what enthusiasm generated that victory of Fabrizio Meoni. Back in Italy, Meoni expected to be confirmed in a team with the same set-up as the one that had won the race for the first time, and instead received the proposal to develop a motorcycle intended for a new series of road KTM. An ambitious project, even more so when compared to the Dakar of which Meoni had become the emblem.

 

WRP Controls-Meoni

 

Fabrizio's primary task was to test the robustness and reliability of solutions to be developed quickly, and give to the draft frame, in which a brand new 75° and 950cc V-twin was housed, designed by Claus Holweg, a definitive functional form. The development work was carried out by Meoni together with ktm's historical technician, Bruno Ferrari, called Iron, and the mechanic/pilot Arnaldo Nicoli, that alternated with Meoni in the tests. There was no hurry, and, I think, not even too much certainty of outcome, in Stefan Pierer's proposal, but there was total in the challenge collected by Meoni and the Iron. In October, KTM 950 Rally was ready.

Meoni took her to her victorious debut in Egypt, and was ready to play the Title in that edition of the Dakar that started from Arras on 28 December, to end the 13 January on the shores of Lake Rosa. Batini and Meoni With the single-cylinder KTM won, one after the other, De Gavardo, Rome, The strip contains, up to the eighth stage, when the Dakar entered Mauritania. Between Tan Tan and Zouerate, Meoni led to victory for the first time his big and heavy, but also very powerful and exploitable, 950 Rally. With the single cylinder they then continued to win De Gavardo, Cox and Rome, but Meoni remained at the top of the Rally, albeit with Rome only one minute late.

 

Meoni Sala 2002

 

The Dakar number 24 became a private affair between Meoni and Rome, that was getting closer and closer. The stage between Tichit and Kiffa was Meoni's masterpiece that managed to mock Rome, to make him lose his head and direction, and to force him to surrender and, Finally, at the retreat. KTM won all arras-madrid-dakar specials, Meoni only two stages and, for the second time in a row, the legendary race. It was a memorable victory, and for Meoni perhaps even more significant than the first, obtained the previous year. was, In fact, a moral victory even greater than the sporting one, with which Meoni demonstrated how it was possible, as long as you have a strength of character and determination certainly not common, win any challenge, including that of a motorcycle on the paper unlikely.

This exclusivity of Meoni's strength was also demonstrated by the very short sporting career of the LC8 950 Rally. Roma chose her for the World Championship season, won in Tunisia but then, frightened by the difficulty of controlling the beast, refused then to drive her again. That bike, In fact, could be guided with complete mastery only by Fabrizio Meoni and Giovanni Sala.

Source La Stampa
https://www.lastampa.it/motori/moto/2016/01/07/news/magia-dakar-edizione-2002-la-seconda-volta-di-meoni-1.36547084?refresh_ce

departure-1991

DAKAR 1991 Private and public pilots ashamed

Article by Nico Cereghini

Two images to focus the spirit of the private drivers at the Dakar The German Brunner pushing his Suzuki up under the finish line of The Pink Lake his face reduced to a blood mask. the foreman of his destroyed bike in the last fall. And still Brenno Bignardi in Tambacounda after the last 50 kilometers traveled on a Gilera without shock absorber, without tire and without saddle: then sitting on the rest of what had been a frame and running on the rear rim. The important thing is to get there, the last page of the road-book says “the sweep: good!” but it only applies if you have a place in the rankings. Twenty-one Italian motorcyclists took the departure to Paris from private individuals: you're the official pilots, if we consider that even Roberto Boano, registered by Honda

Bonacini and Cabins

Ermanno Bonacini and Antonio Cabini

Europe on the most advanced Africa Twin 750 well. of those twenty-one only eight have concluded, ranked among the twentieth place of Max Malik and the thirty-sixth of Antonio Cabini.

But there is private and private. The drivers of the Assomoto team are, for example,, of the privileged. “Yes — confirmation Aldo Winkler — because we can count on the excellent organization set up by Bruno Birbes: a truck and a car on the slopes, airborne mechanics. however. the private who does everything himself and runs with spare parts in his backpack no longer exists”. Not a chance: This year, with just over a hundred bikers enrolled in the race, paris-dakar hit an all-time low.

What are the reasons for the crisis?? The costs. Of course: those private individuals who aimed to have the bare minimum (that is, a mechanic. maybe in consortium. transported on Transair's planes and a spare parts case entrusted to a competing truck) they had to deal with prohibitive figures. So much so that Sabine, to stem the bleeding. promised that next year TSO will set up a couple of trucks to transport the spare parts of private motorcyclists.

The '91 quotation for the transport of a simple cash register had reached twelve million lire Bruno Birbes, bresciano - Wikipedia. forty-year-old, three Dakars played on motorcycles, however, it is of the opinion that the promises of the organizer will have little effect Because the natural evolution of the race – analyzes Birbes – rewards those teams. even small ones who have advanced towards professionalism. We have the pride of taking our pilots to Dakar, so I have the crunch of having lost too soon Marx.

But I also have the satisfaction of having seen right in matching this year my organization with the Gilera. No need to run to the limit. but focus on good mechanics and reliability of follow-up assistance. Winkler then Walter Surini and Brenno Bignardi were thus able to run a relatively serene race. And like them Giampaolo Quaglino, that at Assomoto he leaned in to keep his private Gilera in order.

Brenno Bignardi

Brenno Bignardi

But it's all pilots who can have a big budget, staff or collected through sponsors such that they can set up an almost guaranteed program. Harder still, then, and it was the brazilian's beautiful feat De Azevedo. who brought his Yamaha XT 600 to victory in the Marathons (strictly standard motion) and in 21st place overall: asking for assistance a little’ from all sides and begging a rear tire (at Byrd) when he noticed in Kiffa, to ride a motorcycle with the slicks.

Massimo Montebelli explains and Fabio Marcaccini, with Yamaha 600 formed in the Wild team – year after year we have grown: from pure amateurs to individuals with a minimum organization. The Dakar is always the toughest race in the world, but this year it has become acceptable to us. The placements prove it. Mario Pegoraro, only survivor of a trio, finished in 33rd place with the Honda Dominator. Thirty-nine-year-old, was cared for on sight by TSO after the disqualification of his partner Domenico Magri for pirate assistance. He concluded with a change that he knew no other relations besides the first and second.

Pecoraro - Wikipedia

Mario Pegoraro

Among those who didn't make it, the most unfortunate are Paolo Paladini and Giampaolo Aluigi, stopped two days after the conclusion by as many falls into the dust. “I also had to abandon the bike — the first regretted it — because the dislocation of the shoulder forced me to get into the doctors' car. Now my Africa Twin will make the joy of some black people in Mauritania”.

Paladini's Adventure, including the bike, registration and assistance offered by Honda France, had cost just over thirty million lire. Much more had invested the veteran Beppe Gauri (also had a unimog service personnel), stopped by a fall before facing the Ténéré. In short, the Paris-Dakar costs dearly: it will be unthinkable next year to register for the race without providing for an expenditure of at least forty million lire.

Though, despite everything, this raid remains the African race coveted by every private: because his fame is great (and that's why it's a little less difficult to raise capital between sponsors), because seeing The Pink Lake is equivalent to a degree. Even a rookie has a fair chance of succeeding: however, it must rely on the organization of those teams that now boast considerable Dakar experience. “Adventurers of the 2000 Follow!” Said Thierry Sabine.

And to those who responded to the appeal of that First January 1979, laid down the rules. That they sounded 20th like this. I would take you to where you would never get there on your own, he said.; me and only I know those African countries, governments and people. So I'm the one who sets the rules, those studied at the table and also those that, necessarily, they're going to be improvised day by day. But there's a watchword to keep in mind: “demerdez-vous”; and that is — translated with an improvement effect — “hurry up on your own.'.

Paolo Paladini

Paolo Paladini

“C'EST L'AFRIQUE”

It was probably the only way to rule that hundred “adventurers”, largely careless; Thierry Sabine knew he had to take on the role of “Master” of the race, but he also knew he couldn't get everywhere. Nor did he like to become even the “father” of the participants: would be swamped by individual problems, from the complaints, from the protests of those who had not found the fuel at the established point, or criticized that note of the road-book, or still despised the daily ration of cockerels and fruit juices.

Demerdez-vous Municipality: out of poop on your own. And Thierry was able to carry on his race without much trouble: had a strong personality, gratify the good ones and laughed in the faces of others throwing there two famous judgments: “c'est l'Afrique, c'est la Dakar". But today, for his father Gilbert, the knots are coming to the comb. He has two problems, the ex-dentist: first, doesn't have the personality of his son; second, fisa and fim sewed a number of limits on him, taking away from him in fact the authorship of the race.

And so, while his Paris-Dakar has gradually moved away from adventure to look more and more like a race, Vera, Gilbert can no longer get away with the famous demerdez-vous ruling. Because there's no one left willing to get by on their own when there are three race directors, four jury members, regulations as big as a book, five helicopters, fifteen cars of the organization, two hundred TSO employees, twenty girls with theoretical assignments and a lot of time to devote to tanning. And when, especially, competitors have the impression of paying for it all of their own, this pharaonic bandwagon.

“Heroes” NAMELESS

Once upon a time there was only Thierry, to walkway with his beautiful white jumpsuit as if he were reciting a movie. Now there are ten, Thierry winds with the same prosopopea and the same dreamy air from dune heroes; and you don't even know what they're called or what they're going to do with it. But the most irritating thing is another: TSO is undoubtedly more efficient, but it is nowhere nearer to the participants and their problems. If a team manager is alarmed that one of his drivers has not arrived, you will have to contact a journalist friend to be benevolently welcomed by the research manager; if a photographer wants to know exactly where the special test is coming from, to go to work there, will get romantic answers like that “follow the wind” and no precise indication.

And so on: those of the organization seem to live suspended in mid-air between the African countryside and the pure lyric. A mindset that infects. The French doctors themselves, collected by the two associations AMS and SOS Assistance, suffer from it in alarming terms. When the body of the hapless Charles Cabane was transferred to the plane of repatriation, removed the doctors' tent remained a large pool of blood on the concrete of the huge hangar of Gao airport, there in the middle in general disbelief.

To those who did not want to believe that it was the blood of the poor truck driver, a doctor confirmed by shruging his shoulders with indifference and casting a distracted glance. A doctor who certainly, in his hospital in Nantes or Lyon, conscientiously carries out his work from February to December; but when the Paris-Dakar arrives, part for the adventure falling into the part of the desert warrior: forgetting respect for the living and the dead, the most elementary hygiene and civil coexistence standards.

departure 1985

DAKAR 1985 | The Chronicle of the Race

We missed him very little. After six editions of the Paris-Dakar in which the Italians, As a matter of fact, they had never shone, this year the African marathon was going to turn into a triumph for our colors. The triumph was not there, complicit in a good deal of bad luck, who put out the assistance of the Yamaha-Belgarda (assistance that Franco Picco would need extreme), and also accomplice a discussed decision of the organizers, who heavily penalised the Belgarda's colour bearer in the crucial phase of the race.

There was no triumph but there was a global Italian statement of all importance. Peak at the end was third, after leading the leaderboard for about half the race (not bad for one at the first experience in the Dakar). Behind Peak andrea's placed Marinoni. At the final goal, Zanichelli, Gagliotti - Wikipedia, Balestrieri and Gauri.

Arrival-1985-2

The Italian success was completed by Cagiva, that after winning several specials with Auriol and Picard took eighth and twelfth place. Success is gone, for the second time in a row, to BMW's Belgian Gaston Rahier, behind which jean claude olivier ended up, a French who in life is the importer of Yamaha in his country and who is famous for the elegance that distinguishes him when he is not riding the bike and that has shown that he is perfectly comfortable in a handful of professionals of two wheels.

But here's how the race went day after day. I start all French, unstoppable rise of Franco Picco and Gaston comebackdeparture 1985-1 Rahier: this is the synthesis from the prologue French on arrival in Dakar, in detail here's the diary. 30 December Theatre at the prologue of the seventh Paris-Dakar the piloting school of Cergy-Pontoise, about thirty kilo-meters west of Paris. About fifty thousand spectators present, despite the polar cold, to admire the participants and their evolutions on an artificial path that immediately put a strain on the skills of the individual.

The best in the prologue was the French Lara with Honda, followed by fellow baron, also on Honda, and Bacou, about Yamaha. The best of The Italian Findanno, eighth, followed by De Petri and Gian Paolo Marinoni, thirteenth and fifteenth. January The actual competition begins with the transfer leg from Paris to Sète, in the south of France. The route winds on 1.076 kilometers from the rue national number 20.

Environmental conditions, characterized by a very rigid temperature, do not favor motorcyclists some of whom even risk freezing. One of the favorites, The Belgian Rahier, is hit by a spectator's car; the accident fortunately does not compromise the rahier race that can continue.

2 January 11 transfer by ship from Sète to Algiers, which was supposed to be the last chance for competitors to rest before facing Africa, for many it turns into a real nightmare.

Sea conditions cause a general malaise and many, during the night spent by ferry, they can't turn a blind eye.

3 January Africa's first stop, transfer from Algiers to Ourgla to 628 kilometers, departs only in the late afternoon due to the delay of the ferries due to adverse weather conditions (the latest competitors even land at the 18) . Among other things, the participants, crossing the Atlas Mountains, they have to deal with weather conditions that are not really 'African' because they encounter fog, cold and ice on the roads.


4 January With the Stage Ourgla-El Golea, and the first special test of 239 kilometers, the competition gets into the heart of the unfolding. French Lalay, winner of the Paris 'prologue', immediately finds himself in trouble. At the end of the day, however, in the first three places there are also three transalpine pilots: Baron, Bacou and Neveu, Bacou on Yamaha the other two on Honda. Good quarter Crossbowmen with Honda, while Marinoni and Auriol, both with Cagiva-Ligier, occupy the fifth and sixth squares respectively.


5 January Fourth stage from El Golea to In Salah and second special test. Franco Picco, with the Yamaha of the Belgarda team, takes third place that allows him to occupy the fourth position in the general classification. In the top three still the French Baron, Bacou and Neveu.


6 January The route of the fifth stage winds from In Salah to In Amguel through 600 kilometers of desert track. New Acute by Franco Picco: taking another third place, the Belgarda rider jumps to second place in the general classification. Bacou passes the leadership after the previous leader, Baron, stumbled across an accident.


7 January The sixth stage takes the competitors to Tamanrasset and does not involve major changes to the ranking. In addition to Picco, always second, the Italians Findanno are well placed, Crossbowmen and Andrea Marinoni, set-thyme respectively, eighth and none.


8 January The Paris-Dakar is painted with Italian colors, at least as far as the means are concerned. In the seventh stage, Tamanrasset to Ilferouane, the victory goes to Picard's Cagiva-Ligier. Bacou is still in charge of the general classification, while Lalay overtakes Peak and takes second place.


9 January Stage eight takes competitors to Agadez, on the edge of the Ténéré Desert. The stage victory is of the American Stearns with yamaha, preceding Auriol with the Cagiva-Ligier. General classification leader Bacou finishes fourth and Peak Seventh.


10 January The air of the Ténéré is good for Rahier; the Belgian, that up until now had been a little’ in shadow, wins the stage from Agadez to Dirkou and takes fourth place in the general classification. No change in top three positions still held by Bacou, Lalay and Peak.


11 January For the first time in the history of Paris-Dakar an Italian takes the lead in the general classification; it's Franco Picco leading the race ahead of Belgian Rahier, winner of today's stage. The success of the Italian patrol, in the stage that brings the caravan back from Dirkou td Agadez passing through Ilferouane, it's Ziobale: five drivers in the top ten. Bacou and La-lay found themselves in trouble. in the desert with the compass.


13 January After a day's rest in Agadez the race resumes with a megatappa of 1244 kilometers to travel in two days. The first special between Agadez and Tchin Tabaraden sees a new partial victory by Stearns ahead of Auriol. Peak and Rahier, coming fifth and fourth respectively, have retained the top two positions in the general classification.


14 January To Gao, in Mali, the supertappa started by Agadez ends. Rahier wins second special by reducing his detachment from Peak, still firmly in command of the general classification, while Findanno is third. 15 January Twelfth stage from Gao to Tombouctou and Peak still in command of the race. His primacy, however, is increasingly undermined by Rahier, that gnaws another 9'45” bringing-yes to only 13'39”.


16 January Peak re-establishes distances by taking a third stage place, while Rahier is only fifth. Victory, in the hamlet that takes competitors from Tombouctou to Nema, is the prerogative of the color carrier of the Cagiva Auriol, while a bad fall knocks findanno out of the race.


17 January Nothing done in the fourteenth stage. A very violent sandstorm forces the organizers to suspend the race and make the competitors reach the tichit finish line in a group. The suspension is propitious for Franco Picco who, a few minutes before, had blamed a mechanical failure that could have made him lose the primacy.


18 January The stage of the 18 january is divided into two semi-tassels to recover the special suppressed the previous day. The first special goes to Picard's Cagiva while Peak, Fifth, consolidates its position as a leader. It goes a little’ less well the second special where rahier approaches worryingly at peak; however the big trouble happens right on arrival in kiffa, where the Yamaha-Belgarda rider is penalized for stamping late and Rahier takes the lead.


19 January A new suspension is decided to allow still-missing competitors to reach the caravan. The 20 two specials will be played again to recover the suppressed one.


20 January In the first special, Stearns wins while Rahier and Picco win, who retain the top two places in the rankings, arrive delayed after having the wrong way both. The second special is baron's prerogative in front of Rahier, while Peak, only tenth, also surpassed in the rankings by French Olivier.


21 January The special is won by Baron and Rahier retains command over Olivier. Peak, now for many days without assistance, tries everything but in the end he has to settle for third place in the general classification ahead of Andrea Marinoni.


22 January There are still two specials on sand before arriving in Dakar, but by now the games are done. Rahier wins his second Paris-Dakar ahead of Olivier; Peak comes third while Marinoni, Fourth, completes the Italian success.


The motorcycle classification
1 RAHIER Gaston (Belgium-BMW) in 88h45’01”;
2 Olivier Jean Claude (Fran-cia-Yamaha) at 57'40”;
3 Franco Peak (Italy-Yamaha) at 1h08’02”;
4 Marinoni Andrea (Italy-Yamaha) at 3h05'37”;
5 Neveu (France-Honda) at 3h25'48”;
6 Stearns (USA-Yamaha) at 3h25'49”;
7 Auriol (France-Cagiva) at 5h09'40”;
8 Charliat (France-Honda) at 5h12'28”;
9 Verhaeghe Municipality (Barigo) at 7h43'51”;
10 Courteous (Yamaha) at 9h55'35”; follow other.

Taken from Motorcycling 1985

ENCADRE_SUITES_1990-scaled

Goal Dakar, 50 Africa Twin per the Dakar 1989

“Make those who start suffer and make those who remain dream” was the motto of Thierry Sabine's Paris-Dakar, died on 14 January 1986. Two years later, on the occasion of the release of the Africa Twin, Honda France offered to 50 by “those who usually stay” to also participate in the Dakar 1989.

In 1988, Hervé Guio, the head of Honda France, had already christened the new XRV 650 Rd 03 with the brilliant trade name of Africa Twin (will do so again with the first names of the Transalp and of the Dominator). François Charliat was then responsible for advertising and promoting the network. In his spare time, at the beginning of January, was also a water carrier for hrc's official top riders. After the Dakar of the 1988, that didn't end, his NXR went up in smoke due to a leak in the tank, Charliat was also offered a leadership position in the Honda team for the following year. “I refused. I didn't feel legitimized. I was able to go to the 90% for a long time, but I couldn't go any further like the ones that preceded me. I preferred to stop. “

A godsend to Hervé Guio, who quickly found a substitute for him. It was not the Neveu and the Lalay who had the task of aiming for victory in Dakar, but 50 Private! At the exit of the Africa Twin, Hervé Guio, on a night of drunkenness or i don't know what occasion, said in front of an audience of journalists: “This is the bike of the Dakar, it's Charliat who developed it with the Japanese, it's the perfect bike for a private, true François? And we're going to do a great operation 50 Africa Twin in Dakar“. After this announcement, told me: “Well, François, you have to do it yourself. How much you need? What you need for the bike?”. “

Different times, different customs! This is not Charliat's first hot potato. He's already had to improvise a Supermotard Challenge trophy. “following an error of order on the volume of the 500 Cr“, the largest 2T cross bike of the time, it's not the easiest to sell! He was put in charge of an adventure that was officially called Goal Dakar. “It was a program that depended on R&S. There was always competition between R's departments&S and HRC, it was a little bit’ like the workers against the gentlemen”, says Charliat who remembers the preparations and specifications that he himself drafted.

The Japanese came to visit us in Paris and asked us what to do on the bike.

We were in the Marathon category. So we had to change some things. I had the cartridges changed in the forks, the shock absorber instead was prepared at home, so much no one would come to check. And the fuel tank had almost doubled in capacity. The bike could not be lightened (270 kg in marathon version). It was what it was.

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We had also reinforced the cup and integrated the water tank as disre already. The bike was tested twice in Japan, then two months before the Dakar, the 50 motorcycles were delivered to Paris. It's a special series, with engine and chassis serial numbers beginning with 5. In the parking lot of Honda France, looks like a battlefield. Military tents are set up to accommodate these 50 motorcycles and pieces from Japan, service equipment, all this guarded day and night.

We also had to take care of finding the support vehicles. We had three trucks, two Unimog 4×4 plus a Kamaz 6×6 rented in Switzerland. We have organized a competition for network mechanics. There were ten of them in one of the organization's planes, plus one on every truck. As many drivers and even three warehouse workers. In total, 21 People with my deputy and I to oversee the operation!

Kamaz

"All included, For 81.500 Franks at the time, Honda provided candidates with a complete motorcycle and service package with ten mechanics. “I told myself that the guys who left for the Dakar have often forgotten a lot of things. They tried to make a nice bike, but they often didn't have the tools to repair a simple drilling, no easel to work on in the evening, not the right jacket in which to put the cards. With my six or seven years of experience, I made sure they had a kit ready for the race."

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Although the bike was not a missile, fine. But you had to know how to bring it, it wasn't really a motorcycle for beginners, but two-thirds of them were. He was taught to read a roadbook. It was the age of the first scrollers. I also had some of them make sandwiches before they started.. The boys didn't take care of anything! “A budget for spare parts of 15.000 francs is part of the package, each piece used is then deducted later.

Taken from:

https://www.trailadventuremag.fr/50-africa-twin-a-dakar/?fbclid=IwAR373OfAVcrDNFis1m3Oa62OuiPye-vaHeiIbV0kY9Gx9CMzFevCwKbhCl0

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DAKAR 1988 | “But that's not a tuareg!”

Taken from: Gazzetta dello Sport 16 January 1988
Text of: Text: Enrico Minazzi

Tessalit (Mali) — The Customs Officer of Niger, basque green on the head identical to that of our Yellow Flames, had just finished asking for the ritual" cadeaux, monsieur" (Gifts, Sir) in the purest local style. Shirts (also dirty and used), skidded trousers, Stickers, Cappellini. All is well to squash customs operations and quickly earn the exit of the airport where you are then assaulted by a multitude of indigenous people and children who offer you services and items of all kinds of local crafts.

Dressed as an indigenous, sells souvenirs but it's Claudio Torri, Italian desaparecido pilot

Some are so good at carrying your bags that if you don't follow them as one 007 you end up at the bivouac without a tent and sleeping bag. But this is also part of the game of the 'Dakar'. After a few days of Africa these characters become an integral part of the environment. So, the other day, upon arrival at Niamey few have noticed a guy dressed in blue who, with a small bird mounted on a strange wooden support, recitedIMG_0836 "cadeaux", Cadeaux, Monsieur. Only when it has passed through the exit Serafino Valsecchi, guzzi mechanic in Mandello Lario, the Italian group realized that that guy dressed in blue, in pure tuareg style, was not an indigenous but the thirty-seven-year-old from Bergamo Claudio Torri.

Because let's talk about him? Simple: sunk into the sand of the first special which from El Oued led to Messaud Boulders of the Lombard pilot had completely lost track. His mechanic, who followed him with the airborne-transported troops of the Dakar, had searched him in vain in the rankings, to bivouals, africatours refreshment places and at the organization's aircraft. For a whole week he had tried vainly to know where his assisted. Then he had almost resigned himself: the hours and days passed and of Torri it was only known that he had entered the list of retired from the first special.

In short, the total darkness. Now the concern accumulated in days spent rolling his brain out of concern was all of a sudden vanished. A long hug, a laugh that attracted the attention of Nigerian customs officers and here Torri reappeared on the horizon of the "Dakar", just as there was gone. "I had stupid problems with the bike because I'm a fool — explained the bergamot problems that held me back: the broken rear wheel, i missed the rays, and then the clutch k.o. per kilometre 183 of my Dakar '88 they ended up knocking me down. In the Middle of the Desert, covered up on the dunes".

Torri, bergamot who says to be an architect, was the only competitor at the start of the "Dakar" with a Guzzi motorcycle, a 750 twin-cylinder prototype made in mandello workshops under the direct advice of the pilot-amateur. A motorcycle that had intrigued the Italian audience since the departure of Lacchiarella where the list of members was: Number 66, Claudio Towers, Moto Guzzi Tap. What that tap theme meant? Certainly not the name of the sponsor (Tropicana, a soft drink) but more simply 'tuut a post', that is to say 'everything is fine' in Lombard dialect.

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Africa and the sand then took it on the task of disproving that optimistic acronym: and poor Guzzi sank immediately and Torri had to abandon all hope of reaching Dakar. "But that's not why I didn't have fun - says the singular pilot surrounded by Italian mechanics and competitors. — This is a race that makes you have wonderful experiences even if you don't get to Senegal. I, for example, spent three days in the sand of the first special. And I've seen all the colors. First, two broom trucks came through collecting the pick-ups but they couldn't give me a ride. They were overflowing with people who had retired. There wasn't really a place on the box.. They told me: “Let's go back” and they left me there a survival ration over a little bit’ of water. And my boys, i suffered a cold of the accident. I couldn't even stand something like this when I was a pastor on the Bergamo Prealps.".

Three Days in the Sand, a really out-of-the-ordinary adventure, what's more in Algeria, where January is particularly pungent. "I found myself – continues the desaparecido — with a French planted in the ace by his Toyota. And we've seen some nice ones. For example, a service car with two broken bridges has arrived. It was a Range: his two pilots realized that not far away, covered up and with the clutch out of order, there was a similar car abandoned by a Belgian crew. They didn't think about it for two minutes., they went down, han-no disassembled the pieces they needed from the car found, they mounted them on their and then? And then they thought well of firesare the jackaled machine and they left at great speed..

The race to Senegal, In short, offers almost splits from criminal code. "And that's not all! — exclaims bergamot. — Another French, competing with a Yamaha, arrived with the engine in pieces. He was losing oil from all sides, could no longer continue; he waited for the truck that was assisting him, where he had loaded all his spare parts. He could have repaired his motorcycle instead he thought well to load it on to the vehicle that helped him. Then he must have thought there were too many bikes of competitors around, withdrawn because they didn't physically feel like continuing, people who had abandoned their means still in efficiency. This character, beard and mustache, took away his license plate and race numbers, replacing them with those of a Honda motorcycle.

Towers-1988

“For a motorcycle… Given, I can also betray my beloved Yamaha…” told me giggling, moving away in the sand and dust.. Science fiction? Or Torri possesses a very fervent fantasy, Galloping? "No, No, — tells us the bergamot — I assure you that these are scenes that I have seen live: the Dakar, scenes like that, captain at every stage.. It remains to tell the unique adventure that the Italian pilot lived to reach the capital of Niger, Niamey, and get out of the sands of the first special.

"After three days I finally managed to get on the truck-broom, we traveled about forty kilometers, meeting one of those giant trucks that do the oil exploration, truck 8×8. I was on the box with Ditches and with Consonni, drivers in the race with the Mercedes Unimog who took care of the assistance of Honda Italia. We got out of the broom truck, preferring to pass on that other means. A vehicle that was driving at most at 10-15 kilometers now. And I'm not telling you what adventures: Punctures, breakage of various gears: to recover my Guzzi Tap, The Range of Spanish Canellas and the Unimog of Honda, we took three days.

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Those Algerians, with that very old truck, when the Dakar arrives, stop work for Americans looking for oil and dedicated to recovering abandoned vehicles along the tracks. They also do good business.. In short, it seems that this Dakar offers the possibility of digressions or experiences even without arriving on the white beaches of Senegal: "It is true - he does the bergamot - the race offers you a thousand stories, thousand cues. Those tuaregs were really nice to us: they prepared us the couscous, they cooked bread in the sand, they gave us a drink. And’ it was a really nice experience. Even a company. Because for them the interpretation of time is beautiful, especially towards us Europeans who are used to running all the time. There is no such mentality here.

And maybe, overwhelmed by the pleasures of African rhythms, Torri did not bother to give signs of life at the Dakar caravan or even at his home. "I had thought of getting back on the road with my bike to Algiers, once I fixed it. Then I changed my mind, and I came here on the plane. I left the bike to Massi Messaud for a few days. I warned home? Yes, i phoned the day before yesterday, i talked to my wife, then with my daughter, who just turned six. I greeted Valentina. He told me I'm the usual… fool'. Torri stretches out to talk about his wife Sandra, who she said last year she would resent because her husband hadn't left for the Paris-Dakar: "But you understand women? One year you participate in the Dakar and they make you a head like this because you come to Africa; the next year you don't come, and get angry for the reverse reason. This year, Anyway, I had decided to participate. And here I am, between old friends".

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1986 Sabine

1986-2021 | They've passed 35 years since Sabine's farewell

The helicopter envied him all. They could hear him coming from afar as we trudge on the track. Holes, Jumps, Dust. Especially dust. That impalpable fech fech through which not only can you not see, but you don't even breathe. He passed and from the belly of the Ecureil of Aerospatiale a giant lettering fired: Thierry Sabine.

It was not possible to confuse him. Whether it was the blond, Skinny, Nice Francois Xavier Bagnoult to guide him that himself, flew very low. He touched the slopes having fun, sometimes to target us. If he wanted to stop you for any reason, he did it by whizzing over the roof and then placing himself further hovered in the air. The other helicopters flew higher, ready to intervene in the event of an accident, but he was the shepherd dog of a scattered flock, Sometimes, for a thousand miles.

If you saw him standing up on the vertical you could imagine him with your gaze fixed far away on a point on the horizon. Maybe dozens of clouds of sand strewn across the desert that he would hunt, Met, Driven. If they were not blasphemies those that flew at him, certain, it wasn't about compliments.

 

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And the feeling that everyone felt for him in those moments was identical: Hate; but also love for what he could do; push you where, alone, you'd never go.
Not even paid at any price. We confided it at night, at the bivouac, skin a few hours allowed for sleep before the inevitable “Briefing” of the six, when it would reappear, iadmissible, Sly, histrionics to harangue the rally: at paris-dakar we all journalists, photographers, pilots, mechanics we would also go for free.

And behind him we were ready to run for a month in a row. As long as Thierry showed up at dawn to give us the news about the next stage he would never leave us behind. We didn't just forgive him for the helicopter.. That contraption that he vented by keeping him away from the dust. Far unapproachable, like any god who respects. and for
this reason at every end “Dakar” we punished him, we veterans, on the beach that leads from Sali Portudal to the capital of Senegal: flew invariably into the water as soon as he got out of his helicopter.

1465160_10202535770305607_1163106290_nBy now it was a rite and a tradition together. But at that moment he also spoke of the desire for a partial revenge that would purge him of his mockery from the heavens. A purification that allowed him, at every 22 January of the year, to get out of his role as the executioner of the sands to become again, the 1 January of the following year, the general of an army that for three weeks would not stop unless on his orders.

An order that he, Anyway, he would never give. Neutralizing a stage you could, it was a way to slow down the race when the sandstorm swerved the caravan and forced the drivers to shelter, Leeward, of your cars or motorcycles, but stop the race ever. It wasn't really in his mindset. The Beautiful, the hard, the bestial of the Dakar is that the rally would still continue, despite everything.

It was the only certainty of an otherwise imponderable race. And also the firm point of Sabine whose obstinacy in trying to balance in accounts between private individuals and officers was expressed mainly in making the raid harder. Year after year, as if that could help the1000370_10202535774785719_1168520339_n gentleman of the race, instead of penalising them further.

But this was above all his fixation: man had to prevail over the means, so in recent times the stages traveled with the only help of the compass had increased. At first there had been the only Ténéré. Then it was Mauritania's turn. This year even Thierry found the infernal Bilma-Agadem with his 75 dune beads and, not pleased, also exhumed Guinea.

At the time of the tragic crash, where in addition to Sabine four other people lost their lives, everything was on the edge at the Dakar. Probably himself too. It wasn't just the means in the race that were tried, nor just the pilots, but also his organization, and certainly Thierry Sabine “Le Magnifique, 1999”, “Jesus, 19”, man by many nicknames was not spared.

He was traveling in elFRANCE-SOIR No. 12.885 DU MERCREDI 15 Janvier 1986icopter, It's true, but it was his voice a little’ Shrill, metal at the exit of the megaphone that woke you every morning at the 6 for the “Briefing”. You could still have dust on the corners of your eyes, feel wacky, he wouldn't have been. His morning throne was the shore of one of africatours trucks, and as the race went on, and less and less were the competitors, the more the speech became a moting between friends.

A bang and response with the contestants on the thread of subtle humor, all his own, typically French. Untranslatable. And introduced, although for two years Now Thierry was repeating that he would repeat the briefing also in English. He had also mentioned this this #8217;year, on the Tepasa, the ship from Sete to Algiers, but no one had believed him.

Then he himself, Later, seeing Hubert Auriol speak to a group of journalists in the language of Albion had confided to him: “But how do you? I just can't”.
A weakness not to speak languages. He was ashamed of it.. But also an incredible thing that the rally, born as an event French, had managed so relatively quickly to expand, make yourself known as the only, the last adventure of the 80s′. Something people loved. The People of the Street, not only pilots. I wonder if he's going to survive..

Text by Paolo Scalera
Taken from “Dakar-Dakar 2”

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Dakar 1996 | Winkler's Call to Dakar

Were 4 years that I no longer did the Dakar, i missed it, i finally get better organized and fix the work commitments. In 1991 Nikon decided to assign the distribution to our group, and you had to make a new company the nital in the footsteps of the swa, have been years of fire where obviously you couldn't do anything but put all the effort into this project. But I was missing something. I missed the adrenaline of dakar adventure. After 4 years practically just work i deserved it, and so I decide: i'm going to do it.

I get in touch with Bruno Birbes and Pollini of the Assomoto team with whom I had attended last time. In addition to feelings of strong friendship for them, with Bruno we met at Dakar 1988, he was racing in a BMW and we were pretty much together for half the race, dividing anxieties and happiness, thing that bound us deeply even after the race. Their team was perfect: assistance, a logistics, and Struggling, Bruno's father-in-law, great mechanic who immediately put himself into operation setting up for me a kawasaki 650. The choice of the bike was easily dictated by the fact that Bruno was a Kawasaki dealer.

Free from organizational and motorcycle preparation commitments, I dedicate to physical and motorcycle training, making a great preparation. In December I was in splendid shape!

I don't even try the bike, but I have to say it was beautiful: simple, small and handy.

I take the plane to Granada where everyone is waiting for me and where the technical and administrative checks must be carried out. Small engraved: the taxi that from the airport took me to the hotel hole a tire, in a torrential rain and as a true gentleman I offer to help the female driver. Wet start, lucky start. In the morning we start for two tests, the first is immediately cancelled due to bad weather. The torrential rain of the night before did not seem to fall even for a moment. Not even time to get acquainted with the new bike that has become a block of mud.

 

aldo winkler 1996-7

 

After a transfer we arrive at the port for boarding. Everything is going well, there are bunks and you sleep. Non-secondary factor, since in the past you slept on the ground and there were no bunks for the ship crossing from Sete to Algiers. What a convenience! First bedtime I take the Ariam, the medicine for malaria. This time I decide for this drug because you take it once a week, and not every day. Clearly the dosage is higher and I get a terrible headache and scary nausea. When he wakes up he seems to have passed under a truck. It will be the last time I take an antimalarial.

Finally in Africa, it is always an emotion to land on this continent full of charm and adventure.

Let's go for the special, and it is important to become familiar with the bike in the first stages. It's a very technical special in the mountains, i'm not fit and i get so tired, I certainly still wear the effect of antimalaria mixed with tension. I don't start too well because both trips fail, i find out it's the magnet attachment on the wheel. Not so bad so much there was no navigation. Half special I'm without rear brake. Probably not yet used to the bike, I kept my foot too resting on the pedal and saw the repetition of many curves the oil came into boiling.

This is my first experience with GPS. Apart from the need to understand it well, by security, tells you the right direction and it's very reassuring. Without the anxiety that assaults you when you're not sure about the right breakup, (before they told you the tracks of the other pilots). But I immediately regret, following the tracks obviously straight for the waypoint, everyone follows the direct route, but i'm in the middle of a climb worthy of a world trial. I always wondered where those tracks were going.

 

aldo winkler 1996-17

 

GPS gives you the direction, but using it on the street and one thing, using it in the desert takes you in directions that lead you to encounter extreme difficulties. There are still tracks marked by other motorcycles, but this time I decide to go back and follow the roadbook literally. Beautiful old navigation methods are a safety, following the directions I find a beautiful and easy track. Unfortunately in the evening checking the ranking I realize that I am way behind and with many drivers in front of me very slow pleasure. Mannaggia to me that I followed the road book. Learning to use this infernal GPS many drivers had navigation facilities by overshooting me in the rankings. I'm starting to curse these new devilry a little bit..

The next day I leave for the stage. I feel good, shooting a lot and everything goes well, i'm going to remount many positions.

At some point the track has a bottleneck, tightens, slows down slightly, i reach another driver but there's a lot of dust and there's no way to get over it. I've been after him for a long time., but I get spaced and risk it all for everything, i want to pass it at all costs, but some dust i'll take a big peterne. At times I coat but I stand by miracle, i get ants on my feet for fright. I stop to check the damage, i see that the front rim is all branded and crooked. I give a pull to the rays and with the tail between the legs I finish the special flat plane. I arrive at the bivouac and only here remind me that the stage was "marathon" that is without assistance. I can't replace the rim and I'm forced to leave the next day in the same condition I arrived in.

You enter Mauritania, i knew those leads, I had already traveled them in previous editions, but due to the unrest in the area because of the belisarius front you run in a kind of corridor transened by balize, where the organization has strongly recommended not to go out so as not to run the risk of entering a minefield.

At the edge of the track are many UN pickup trucks.

The stage is very long and demanding with many difficult dunes, the sun starts to fall. I've done several stops at night in the past and I'm terrified of it., shot as much as I can, at some point the GPS loses the signal, I follow the tracks as long as I can and then I just follow the same direction. What anxiety. I continuously curse GPS, that finally picks up the signal and signals me that they're alone 3 km to go.

 

 

The next morning I have a hard stage ahead of me. You have to cross an erg of dunes very long, i get insabbio several times and I consume a lot of gasoline. I do two calculations, and the results tell me I'll never get to the end. I go slowly not to consume and luckily the track becomes smoother and I arrive with a drop only of gasoline in the tank. The race is starting to get really tough. I'm leaving for a very difficult stage, practically a huge floor of big stones that put me to the test. I get very tired, you can never proceed sitting down to rest your legs. I proceed standing on the bike, i'm so tired that sometimes i sit going to step duomo, arrival in the dark.

 

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The next day the stage planned to travel the track in the opposite direction of the previous day. The traces are still evident and without any problem of navigation shooting like crazy, i reach several pilots. Everything was fabulous, i was really put well in the rankings, a single minor drawback comes from gps marking the route slightly to the left. Taken by the wetting and comforted by the fact that several other pilots were proceeding in that direction, you go on. What a beginner's mistake. We notice after several kilometers that by not following the GPS we had moved away from the track. So let's go back to Zouerat. There are seven of us, let's take stock, the track forked to V, and we followed in the footsteps of the previous day. One decides to cut straight, follow him in four, me and another we decide to go back, I don't trust GPS. No more. Let's go back to the famous crossroads, we realize that with the more miles made we would never get to the refueling of gasoline.

 

 

But the machines arrive, and mannaggia to them if only one stopped. Finally two Japanese stop, we ask him about gasoline, but it's really hard to get it out of the tank and we waste a lot of time. I'm on the right track, how long did I waste, i'll start pulling as much as I can, knowing that every mile made more with light are hours less given in the dark. Traveling at night is really a bad thing you don't see anything, the track is ruined by the passage of the whole rally and it's very easy to fall. In addition, the dunes, already difficult by day, at night they don't forgive you and you got so many times not having the reference of the end of the dune. I am deeply angry with myself for such a stupid mistake.

I do several kilometers with Alberto Morelli maybe and there we know each other better by laying the foundations for a deep friendship and we will run together many future rallies. Of course the night comes, as a result I fall several times, luckily there are few dunes but lots of camel grass,(are mountains of hard sand with tufts of grass on them the you have to zigzag, me if you take one the flight is inevitable). I get to one and of course as a good law murphy finds out it's a marathon stage. I clean the filter and check the oil, i was dry, i'll borrow it and collapse in morpheus's arms.

For the record, the 5 motorcyclists who cut straight didn't arrive and retired all.

In the morning we start again, the bike starts in a cloud of smoke. The night before in the dark I had put too much oil, I'm going to take some off and leave. The path is really hard, soft sand alternating with large stony. You make the Pass of Nega (a hellish place, i'd already done it backwards uphill, a hellish slope and remained famous because the cars almost stopped all so steep). But downhill the music has changed.

 

aldo winkler 1996-16

 

In 30 km from the stage arrival i'll take a pretty strong hole, nothing special but i hear a metallic noise. Slow down to see what happened: no brake. I stop and look better, I see the oil pipe cut out of the net and the swingarm on the right has detached sharply from the attachment turning backwards.

Floor of departure and arrival.

Charles Edson my friend and companion of many adventures welcomes me on arrival, i was desperate for my swingarm. We decide to go to the neighboring country to see if by chance there was a mechanic. Let's find a "saldor" as they call them around there. This immediately takes the torch, The Block! It's aluminum, you can't weld it like that! Bruno tries to get in his way, sees a chair and realizes that the legs are perfect to solve the problem, fit perfectly inside the swingarm, having rectangular shape and we stick them in and then we go back to the bivouac. All night we wait for the service trucks, it absolutely takes the a tig welding machine for aluminum.

Here comes the truck Honda France, they have the tig but the proverbial transalpine sympathy never denies, despite our insistence they do not lend us the welding machine. At three in the morning the Yamaha arrives and they are kind and promise me that they will help us. But I was very tired and I'm going to sleep, Bruno reassures me he will take care of the repair. Actually in the morning I find the swingarm welded and with an aluminum handkerchief closing the broken part.

Greeting Bruno, that was airborne, childbirth and at a pace of confidence i arrive in kaies.

This was also a Marathon stage so motorcycles take you to the closed park and it is forbidden to touch them. As I go to get my passport stamped because we entered Mali, i see pass a truck and i see that on has a green bike. I look at it better and it's a KLR like mine! I get the idea of changing the swingarm, I disassemble it all happy knowing that maybe so I could finish the race, and I'm getting ready for replacement, but i get caught right away. Commissioners misdeed me, I decide to eat a little in the dark and wait for them to walk away to try again later.

 

aldo winkler 1996-19

 

I am not a good mechanic but with patience and logic you do everything, it just takes me a long time to get things done. Also because in the dark and very difficult and you don't see anything, but of course I couldn't turn on the pile otherwise the commissioners would have found me. I can mount it, I was very tired but I can't mount the brake caliper and I realize it was different and there were different attacks. Back to the retired bike and I also take the pliers, all by taking a very long ride so i don't show up. I can mount it just to mount the wheel, it's up to the perno and I find that he too was different from my. I notice that my bike was from the previous year, while that retreat was from the last year and who knows why Kawasaki had changed so many particulars. I was very tired and I probably had a nervous breakdown., i started crying like a baby.

 

 

i'm discovered by the commissioner and probably seeing me in those conditions he felt sorry for me, and getting hold of it helped me finish the job that I wouldn't be able to finish anymore. The first light of dawn begins to be seen. As soon as I finished I hugged him and kissed him to show him my gratitude. A quick breakfast and we start again, tired but happy to be on my perfect bike as new.
(Nb: in Dakar I then reconstituted the piece with my broken, I discovered that the retired bike was of an Italian and now the Kawasaki is in my garage among the bikes I care about the most and inside the swingarm there are always the legs of the chair.

I had already made this special and I remembered it as a very long and very difficult stage. The landscape has changed and we run through a forest, after so much sand it's nice to see some greenery. You see animals, many monkeys. You also have to wade through a very deep stream, Auriol helps me and pushes the bike that had turned off. Along the riverbank there was a hecatomb of motorcycles, all with problems, weasted filters, water-filled mings. For once I'm lucky on my side, the kawa starts again almost immediately, after drying the filter.

 

 

You cross many villages, people you see at the edges, they all smile, express joy at seeing you. What a contrast to the big city, here we are practically armored in the field. The next day I leave for a mountain stage, the accumulated tiredness was so much, but you start to smell a certain scent of arrival. Arrive at a fesh fesh point (borotalco sand that you don't see the soil). Fall. The track was narrow, a car comes along, was definitely at the top of the leaderboard (but in the hustle and bustle I can identify her). He stops and starts playing like a lunatic, for me to free the passage. I try to do it as fast as I can, but I was really tired, very tired. Up the bike, that doesn't start, and out of care I push it to the side.

The Driver of the Car, spaced pushes me and throws me to the ground at the side of the road. His luck was that he managed to pass quickly. I was so angry That I told him so many of those swear words and curses that I was ashamed. In the fall broke the lighthouse and the water tank of the recovery radiator. Struggling to get back on track at a very steep spot. That pilot was lucky, because if I recognized him at the bivouac I don't know what I would have done.

 

aldo winkler 1996-33

 

On the last day there are two specials to go through and a lot of tension. The goal is to get there. The bike is at a state of exhausting, can't take it anymore. The last stage which leads to pink Lake there is a sand chestnut, and hearing the agonizing motor scream my heart. Anxiety rises. I have in mind poor Angel Cavandoli who broke his bike at 3 km to go.

 

 

The arrival is a liberation! Arrived! It was becoming an obsession, Compete 20 days with this unique purpose fills with joy but at the same time there is also an inner emptiness. For me, the Dakar post is a situation to metabolize. You have to recover a deadly fatigue that remains for some time, but I also get a little bit of existential crisis. The Dakar da. The Dakar takes away. All the time.

 

aldo winkler 1996-4

 

This Dakar 1996 it's a prize, gave me so much and took so much, without Team Assomoto and Bruno Birbes I would never have made it. I also met a wonderful person, thank you Alberto.

Source photos and texts: Aldo Winkler's facebook page

rally-Paris-Dakar-03

Dakar 1985 | Beppe Gauri. Withdrawn it will be her!

by Nicolò Bertaccini

And now that's enough, this pebble is right to take it out of your shoes, Indeed, from the boots. Because there are a thousand documents around, all officers and on these appear only judgments: out of maximum time, retired, Disqualified, seventy-second with twenty-two finished at the finish line (!?). Instead, on Pink Lake and Dakar, in 1985 Beppe Gualini got there. That's it.. Certain, in his own way. But if you break an engine, you get towed, you fall into the sea, you pull spare parts i miss you were jeeg robot, then it's right that you're recognized what you've done.

Said, Year 1985, our Good Samaritan Gualini is riding a Yamaha Tenere set up with a kit Byrd. It has reached the penultimate stage, the Pink Lake and the finish line are one step away. It's not long, it's about managing what's left of the bike, an eye on out-of-time and it's done. The unexpected happens, Indeed, yet another unexpected. The bike stops. Beppe does a thousand checks, thousand checks but the bike no longer has any, the engine is gone, Cooked. It's not long, you can already smell saltwater but it's not enough. Beppe does not demur. He tries. From there on incredibly passes the byrd service truck (Belgarda Yamaha Racing Division) that "they didn't even stop, they knocked me down an engine and they left".

The truck was caught following the official drivers Belgarda, New but stops to figure out what Beppe needed. You need an engine, at one stage from arrival there is the possibility to unload one on the fly and let it try to mount it and make it work. A non-new engine, indeed a little’ undone. But with great merit: it would turn on and it worked. For Beppe starts a race against time, disassemble and reassemble in order to reach the limit. Then, after about twenty days of competition, with the bike that now stands together only by miracle and a physical fatigue that can hardly be imagined, ours starts to replace the engine of his Ténéré. Complex stuff in a workshop.

 

Gualini-1985-1

 

But Beppe has method, Knowledge, patience and inhuman strength. Replaces the engine and restarts. Certain, the bike starts again lightened by some useless infrastructure, as you can see in some photos. On the other hand, it's not like he could finish the commas., the important thing was to get to the bivouac with the bike on, then he could patch up further in view of the last day of the race. And we're on the fateful last day, the last stop, the one where in each driver's head echoes a single phrase "don't do shit". Yet, as we've seen happen for so many, the last km is always the most insidious.

Beppe runs with his Yamaha that now seems to have come out of the movie Mad Max. Runs along the wetdry, where the sand is more compact and easier to cross. Obviously an unexpected happens, otherwise it wouldn't be the Dakar. He's proceeding with two other pilots, are close enough. Suddenly an abnormal wave or in any case pushed a little’ further on the shoreline and here are the three who find themselves on the ground. Beppe takes a nice dip. He gets up biasing something in bergamo and tries to restart the bike by dumping anger and frustration on the starter pedal. Nothing. Try again and nothing. Try again with more and more anger until he breaks the kicksarter.

It's over., the bike no longer starts. Even if it's done by now, could load his bike on his shoulders and get to the finish line. Fate, however, did not end with Beppe and put another participant on the track. They tie the bike and yamaha gets carried away for a few meters. A hundred will be needed before a mumble and an outbreak announce the restart. The maneuver is not one of those prohibited, get help to start the bike is granted. It's done, the bike starts again and Beppe can take it to the finish line, holding your breath. Twenty-third recites the document in his hands. And in the end, among a thousand sites, thousand reportage, thousand official documents the only one that contains the truth, for us, is that of Gualini. He in the 1985 in Dakar we got there, within the time limit.