I’m flying through the air horizontally - ‘doing a Superman’ my instructor later tells my fellow riders - wondering what I did wrong. And whether it will hurt when I land.
We’re in the wilds of Wiltshire to discover why a leading London motorcycle training firm specialising in road-riding is now teaching all-comers how to handle the rough stuff too, after setting up camp on the edge of Salisbury Plain, with its miles of hidden byways.
The new venture is in response to soaring demand for tuition on adventure-style motorcycles, in line with runaway sales of the high-riding, knobbly-tyred bikes themselves.
With growing numbers of riders wanting to know what the machines are really capable of, Phoenix Motorcycle Training set up Phoenix Trails - and is now seeing streams of riders heading from the capital to its new base in Codford.
Here, they’re learning vital new skills that are not only massive fun on hundreds of miles of challenging, muddy, rutted byways, but that make them safer road riders too.
Today, astride one of Phoenix’s mud-spattered Fantic XEF 250s, encased from head to toe in safety gear also provided by the firm, I’m getting my very own taste of adventure riding under the watchful eye of their instructor, known as the ‘Salisbury Plain Stig’.
Fortunately for me and two fellow novices (I’ve ridden a little off-road before but not for a while), we start by warming up in a - very - slippery field adjacent to the training centre.
Braking point
“Gentle on the throttle, keep off the brakes, lean forward, elbows up and look where you want to go,” says Stig, as we wobble along a well-worn path weaving treacherously between trees. “Don’t grip the handlebars tightly - and no sudden movements. Let the bike find its own way through the mud!”.
It’s unnerving as the bikes slide and slither around. And different to riding on the road where the aim is to avoid skids at all costs. Here, we’re encouraged to embrace them. There are other differences: on roads you lean the bike more steeply, making the most of the sticky tarmac. Here it’s best to keep the bike more upright and to redistribute your body weight while standing on the footpegs - to avoid sliding out on mud-encrusted bends.
“Relax into it, let the bike go where it wants,” advises Stig. “Keep asking yourself: Am I upright and riding forwards? Has the bike gone where I want it to go? And have I expended the least amount of energy achieving those aims?”
Despite the winter cold we’re sweating with the exertion - and tension. There are tumbles and falls as, gradually, we acclimatise to riding sideways - while grinning from ear to ear. Warm-up over, we tackle our first, proper, off-road riding, tackling a swooping network of wooded byways, muddy tracks and wide-open fields offering stunning views over the Plains.
The Fantics produce only 21 hp but they’re nimble, biddable fly-weights at just 122 kgs and more than a match for the tough terrain. The tyres alternately grip and flail the mud as the wide handlebars provide the perfect stance and leverage for correction. Being single-cylinder machines there’s plenty of torque at low revs, so no need for high engine speeds or noise. Their ground clearance is impressive. After an hour of swooping sublimely along hill, lane and valley, it’s time for a new challenge.
“No ride off-road is complete without ruts,” says Stig. “So you need to know how to ride’em.” With most tracks also shared by farm, MOD and private vehicles, it’s rare to find one that hasn’t - over the years - become heavily rutted.
“Start off ‘paddling’ along and sitting on the saddle while you get the hang of it and find your balance. Don’t stare at your front wheel; look a little way ahead. When you get going, try standing on the footpegs and see how it goes... Keep it steady - not too fast,” says Stig.
I bump the Fantic down into the deep, muddy rut and do as I’m told. At least I think I do. It’s tricky relocating the footpegs after paddling, duck-like, along the rut as the bike gains momentum, but finally I begin negotiating the twisting, undulating groove and am standing tall. Forgetting the bit about not going too fast I snatch third, stare at my front wheel and nudge the wall of mud with the front wheel.
The bike stays in the rut and I don’t; hence the Superman impression. The combination of soggy field and strap-on protection mean I don’t feel a thing. “I told you to keep looking ahead!” grins Stig as he takes a snapshot of me sprawling on the ground.
Back in a rut
“What’s the easiest way to pick your bike up?” he asks. I recite what I’ve learned on YouTube, where pro riders manhandle their steeds upright again by levering the handlebars or ‘walking’ it upright with their back to the bike. “Nope - get your instructor to do it for you!’, says Stig. So saying, he hoists it upright, keen for me to conserve energy for the challenges ahead. I head back to the rut to try again. This time with success. What a buzz.
Our confidence grows and we tackle ever tougher terrain. We use only officially-approved byways legally open to vehicles, occasionally encountering ramblers or dog-walkers. When we do, we pull over, give them plenty of space and - frequently - end up chatting with them.
Before lunch - a tasty, sit-down affair at a local cafe, enabling us to compare notes - we ride headlong through miles of ruts, axle-deep in muddy water. None of us takes a dive, though we come close.
That seems to be the secret of off-road riding - always just enough poise to prevent a tumble but not so much that the bike can’t find its own way through the scenery, guided by dabs on the footrests, a bit of luck and a cool head.
After lunch we tackle the ‘hill of doom’: a dauntingly steep, slippery, deeply-rutted chalk-lined hill which - if you had any sense - you wouldn’t even walk up. As a finale to a day of high drama, laughs, falls and an armoury of new skills, it was utterly exhilarating.
Reduced to a crawl as we nudge, caress and bounce our bikes over rocks and berms we inch up the hill, smothering ourselves, each other and the bikes in slime.
Back at base, sturdy motocross boots still discharging muddy water, it’s time to hose ourselves off, wind down over a cuppa - and check diaries, to see how soon we can return for more muddy thrills and spills.
How to get down and dirty
Phoenix has half a dozen instructors at Codford, along with five Fantics (one with a lowered seat for shorter riders), and one Honda CRF 250L. Groups are closely supervised, with one instructor to every two riders. Sessions generally start at 9am and end at around 3pm, enabling routes of between 45 - 90 miles, depending on skill levels.
Total beginners - as long as they hold at least an A2 motorcycle licence - are welcome, so are more advanced riders seeking to hone their skills. “We gauge riders’ ability first and tailor the days accordingly, over three different levels,” says Stig, “It’s important to make sure novices don’t lose confidence; we are, after all, trying to attract people into this, not put them off! If you want a more personal day, we can offer one-to-one experience too.
“A lot of it is about reprogramming your brain,” says Stig, who has been riding since the age of eight, clocking up 40 years of riding off-road including 20 years racing enduro at clubman level. “Most people tense up as soon as their bike begins to slide. But after a bit of tuition it feels more natural - that’s when it becomes fun. There are pay-offs on the road too; if you suddenly slip at a junction, for instance, you’re more prepared. It is less likely to bother you.
“Off-road is a very different environment for most riders. The most important thing to bring with you - apart from your licence - is a sense of humour, along with a willingness to learn and adapt. Be prepared to have fun - and get a bit dirty!” Prices start from £270 per day.
