Doug Cooper's African travels Part 1

Upon arrival in Marakech I swiftly realised that this place was much the same as most African countries. A jostling hub of activity with everyone trying to get a bit of the action . In and around Marakech is the same as most touristic places so after a day of trawling round shops with the boys I wanted out, so fortunately they had decided that it was a little costly so on we went , scoring a cab at a sweet price we headed desert side and in to the Atlas Mountains.
After five hours we arrived on the coast and were dropped in a odd campsite more like a desert full of German oldies in their super buses. That night we grabbed a cab to the nearest town, Tagazout, possibly the scariest experence I have ever had. I tried to put my seat belt on and the driver went nuts reminding me that seatbelts in Morocco were not done as he careered all over the road, back wheels sliding out. The rest of the drive I clung on to the door handle in terror.

Once in Tagazout we grabbed pizza and were offered a house to stay in for dirt cheap, in fear of sleeping in the desert for more than one night we took it, so at five pounds each a night we had a pad to die for equipped with a combined shower and toilet and a pimping balcony over looking the beach. We were set to entertain some sic sunsets and mad surf. Morning dawned bringing huge swell and even bigger pipes. Alan and I hopped in our boats and confronted the enemy, a messy 12 ft break greeted us with the beating of our lives. After an hour of what could be called carnage battling against strong winds and bigger waves we retired for the day.
The next day brought perfect 10 ft pipe. Once out back, waves were easy to pick and the first wave i took off on was around 11 ft as I dropped over the lip I thought that this must not be to dis-similar to seal-launching off the roof of my house. Once carving I had to keep my edge hard as the wave was begging to take me back and give me a good rinse cycle, finally making the line I turned forward and launched an air screw which must have cleared 6 feet landing back on the other side of my rail I realised that combo moves were more than good to go. The wave caught up and then kicked my ass, now I'm hooked.
I have been riding every day and often on more than one break in a day.

Doug

Steve Ugg's Victory

Steve Ugg is the winner of the South West Enduro Championship 2007.

After a gruelling season of dirtbike races in the clubman division. The year started with a good race in January only to discover afterwards he had broken ribs. As the season progressed first position wins indicated Ugg may be on for the championship but there were many top riders after the trophy. The extreme nature of the sport gave the air ambulance a busy time at almost each event. After intense training in the spring with the FrontrowGB Dakar team in Romania Ugg stepped up his game and started lapping the opposition and the trophy was in the bag!

Nookie Amara gloves were the best kit. They endured the intense wear and tear and gave plenty of grip. The Nookie Bank Jacket was good protection during the super wet muddy races.

2 day's, 14 hours, 3 rivers...

Sometimes, just sometimes, everything comes together with no real effort to make something perfect...

The river season so far this year has sucked, most people scrabbling around trying in vain to find some water somewhere - anywhere. Infact it has become so bad that most of my kayaking friends [myself included] have resulted to muttering under their breath and rocking in the corner.

Well i'm here to brag - not a little, a lot! A week of checking the Met Office and doing my bestest Micheal Fish impressions revealed a slim chance of water in South Wales for the weekend [and if that failed some big storm swell / surf to play in!].

Not saying that we were all desperate for some white water action but we all randomly turned up an hour early to the dictated service station meeting point - no time for the usual lazy fried breakfast either - It had rained - not a little either - there was water which only meant one thing, we were on for the triple...

Starting off with the walking into the Mellte in the rain [only in the UK would you be happy to be walking through the middle of nowhere in the pouring rain!], moving onto the Nedd Fechan, finishing it off with a sunset play session down the Tawe.

More rain forecast for the Saturday night, so we decided to head over to Swansea to sample the local delights! Sunday morning showed more water than we were expecting , so hangovers throbbing we headed high up the Tawe, getting on where the river was literally running over the moor and no wider than to fit a creek boat. We spent the rest of the day, slip sliding and boofing our way down the many of the Tawe's slides and drops.

2 day's, 14 hours, 3 rivers -Welsh creeking at its best - go and find your own adventure - the Micheal Fish in me is telling me there's more water on the way...

Ben