Previous trip .... Hellas Rally - So good I did it twice

I’d never done a road book rally.

Up to that point, my exposure was limited to watching the Dakar Rally on TV. The biggest, baddest, and frankly most intimidating thing on two wheels. Proper gladiatorial stuff.

But after getting a taste for off-road riding in the Gibraltar Race, I found myself quietly plotting. Not loudly announcing it, mind you, just the sort of internal conversation that starts with “that looks interesting” and ends with “how hard can it be?”

Answer: quite.

Still, I fancied testing myself. Not in a heroic, Red Bull-sponsored way, more in a “let’s not die but learn something useful” sort of way. So I went hunting for a rally that was:

• less brutal than Dakar
• less expensive than selling a kidney
• and ideally within reach of a normal human being

After a fair bit of digging, I landed on the Hellas Rally in Greece. By all accounts, it was a solid entry point for amateurs. Challenging enough to feel legitimate, but not so savage that you’d be airlifted out by lunchtime.

That sounded about right.

I quickly bought a road book and started looking for a bike.

It didn’t take long to notice a recurring theme: people crash. Quite a lot.

Now, having spent most of my career managing risk (and trying to avoid paperwork), I decided not to turn up on something that could launch me into orbit. Instead, I went for a 250cc bike:

• cheap to buy
• manageable power
• less likely to punish poor decisions with immediate violence

In short, it felt like a sensible choice for someone who didn’t yet know what they were doing. Which, to be clear, was me.

I hired a mechanic, had the bike shipped to the start line, because nothing says “organised” like outsourcing your problems, and a few weeks later found myself tearing around the Greek mountains, following a roll of paper and with a vague sense of direction.

What could possibly go wrong?

The answer, as it turns out, is: quite a lot. 

It was exhausting.

Not “that was a good workout” exhausting, more “what have I done as are my arms are no longer functioning” exhausting and that’s where the real lessons started.

Lesson one:
You can only ride as fast as you can read a road book.
Not as fast as you think you can ride. Not as fast as your ego would prefer. Only as fast as your brain can process squiggly lines while bouncing over rocks.

Lesson two:
You need to be bike fit, not gym fit.
There’s a difference. One involves controlled movements in air-conditioned comfort. The other involves wrestling a motorcycle at speed and concentrating for eight to ten hours a day, straight.

Lesson three:
It’s a multi day event so your “admin” matters.
That means:

• eating properly
• hydrating properly
• maintaining the bike
• and, ideally, sleeping at some point

Tiredness, more than anything else, is what catches you out. Not speed. Not terrain. Just good old-fashioned fatigue quietly making bad decisions for you.

Despite all that, or perhaps because of it, I went back two years later and did it again.

This time, I arrived armed with:

• a long list of lessons learned
• slightly better fitness
• and the faint illusion that I now knew what I was doing

Still on a 250cc, I watched much better riders on much larger bikes crash out with alarming regularity. Big power, it turns out, doesn’t fix poor judgement. If anything, it accelerates the consequences.

Meanwhile, I focused on:

• smoother riding
• better navigation
• and actually looking after myself between stages

My admin improved. My navigation improved. My riding improved, marginally, but enough to matter.

I wasn’t going to win anything. Let’s not get carried away.

But I finished.

Respectably placed, no major injuries, and with a much better understanding and respect for what rally riding is really about.

That said… there was one moment where I did go over the handlebars 'superman style'. Completely unintentionally, I should add. A brief but memorable flying lesson.

No harm done other than to my dignity.

That first rally, and the return visit, taught me more than I expected.

Not just about riding, but about:

• pacing yourself
• managing risk in real time
• staying sharp when you’re tired
• and accepting that progress often looks messy

It wasn’t glamorous. It wasn’t polished.

But it was real and crossing that finish line was emotional.

And, as it turns out, that’s exactly what I’d been looking for. 

Below are some photos from my experiences at Hellas 

Drop me an email at andy@mototoff-ridingon.com if you're thinking about dipping your toe into roadbook rallys.  There are loads to choose from  ....but for the best and latest on Hellas Rally click the button