Some don't like riding a beach, others don't care.
Some love it.
And many are outright scared at the thought.
Or just scared of the often deep , loose stuff of beach entries and exits.
I've never been a beachcomber, bored quickly by nothing to do between sand-and-sunblock-crumbing and some half-arsed paddling to wash that grinding paste from the bum crack for a few minutes.
But taking a bike on the beach is a different thing altogether.
Crashing whitecaps, thumping breakers, dodging and gauging the waves and water run-up, constantly checking the sand colour for the "firm" line between crashing waves and tankslapping disaster.
The blown sand-ripples sending the front-end spazzo, the need to keep the speed up, eyes wide open and the old noggin in constant overdrive to make sure to turn UP the wick when things get shaky, rather than following natural instincts and reactions to slow down.
The front end getting caught in a seam or bundle of seaweed at 80kmh.... a small creek cutting through the beach and leaving steps of hard sand 4 or 8 inches deep and the fully packed jalopy going in sideways under full emergency braking with rapidly flicking views of the dunes and foamy breakers.... topping one of the sandcrests at speed to find a washed-up and rotting seal on the other side smack-bang in the riding-line.
No space for beach-boredom this way....and going for a dip in the surf will likely wash something else outta the crack than the slip,slop,slap grinding paste..
Cooloola Beach north of Noosa, crap-weather incoming.
Quick-park at the Cherry Venture shipwreck site
Part of the northern exit to Rainbow Beach, the Old Freshwater Track
Some love it.
And many are outright scared at the thought.
Or just scared of the often deep , loose stuff of beach entries and exits.
I've never been a beachcomber, bored quickly by nothing to do between sand-and-sunblock-crumbing and some half-arsed paddling to wash that grinding paste from the bum crack for a few minutes.
But taking a bike on the beach is a different thing altogether.
Crashing whitecaps, thumping breakers, dodging and gauging the waves and water run-up, constantly checking the sand colour for the "firm" line between crashing waves and tankslapping disaster.
The blown sand-ripples sending the front-end spazzo, the need to keep the speed up, eyes wide open and the old noggin in constant overdrive to make sure to turn UP the wick when things get shaky, rather than following natural instincts and reactions to slow down.
The front end getting caught in a seam or bundle of seaweed at 80kmh.... a small creek cutting through the beach and leaving steps of hard sand 4 or 8 inches deep and the fully packed jalopy going in sideways under full emergency braking with rapidly flicking views of the dunes and foamy breakers.... topping one of the sandcrests at speed to find a washed-up and rotting seal on the other side smack-bang in the riding-line.
No space for beach-boredom this way....and going for a dip in the surf will likely wash something else outta the crack than the slip,slop,slap grinding paste..
Cooloola Beach north of Noosa, crap-weather incoming.
Quick-park at the Cherry Venture shipwreck site
Part of the northern exit to Rainbow Beach, the Old Freshwater Track
