Words: Jeremy Quinn | Photos: Katie Rapp
What’s that expression again? Don’t bring a knife to a gun fight? I’m awash with terror, sitting precariously perched at the edge of a drop on my borrowed steed – a 2015 Honda CRF250X that, despite its young age, looks like it has witnessed the apocalypse. When I had first glimpsed the waterfall obstacle back at the start line, I had thought, “This looks a lot easier on YouTube.” Now, staring over the precipice, I can hear the sound of bikes bouncing off their rev limiters in the distance. That must be a sign people are having fun, right? Then I remember. Shit, this isn’t a motocross track. It’s the Madron Hard Enduro.
It’s the first day – only the prologue, a mere 2.9 kilometres. Leaving the start line, I had slowly crept up to the base of the waterfall, attempting to be strategic in my approach. Some of the other guys nearly made it to the top, surely it’s not that hard? Having successfully pushed and spun my way up, I stare over the brink for a while and then decide to just get on with it. Time to go, my little red donkey. Zap – splat – crash. I’m down already and the day has barely begun.
Then, the heavens open, and the rain quickly turns from a drizzle to a monsoon. Brilliant. That red clay around the next corner is going to be a treat. Not long after, I hear shouting: the bridge is out. It’s been 20 minutes, I’ve only travelled 100 meters and the Honda’s electric start has already quit. At that moment, I think to myself, “I may be in over my head.” Over the next two hours, I navigate insanely slippery switchbacks for long climbs and endless descents, rocky riverbeds and tight brush, all designed to test riders’ abilities and make them weep in their helmets, just a little bit. I know I did.
This torture-fest is the brainchild of Rapp Racing’s Julian Rapp, Katie Rapp and Danny Tuta. With the Madron Hard Enduro, their goal is to provide an event that pushes riders to find their limits in extreme terrain. Rapp Racing assists with everything that participants may need: food, accommodation, rental and transport. The event is based out of Monchique, an hour inland from Portugal’s coast, where the terrain is vast and its variety virtually endless. If switchbacks, rock faces, riverbeds, boulder fields and steep descents stir your bits, you will certainly find your nirvana in Portugal.
The format of the Madron Hard Enduro is similar to that of Romaniacs: a technical prologue followed by three days of GPS-navigated, challenging riding. The tracks are a combination of flowing transit sections interspersed with extreme tests. Madron’s X-Department designer assures me that everything is actually rideable, and that he tests it all out on his DR350 as a benchmark. That sounds reassuring, until you see how talented he and the other track builders are on their bikes – a testament to riding the awesome Portuguese terrain on a regular basis.
Julian Rapp explains how the company works incredibly hard all year to customize tracks and come up with new ways to challenge its Hard Enduro clientele. It’s really a bespoke event. For example, over 60% of this year’s course has been redesigned from last year’s, and some of the new features, he tells me, are absolutely epic in the most obscene way imaginable.
Once I get through surviving the prologue, about 25 other participants and I start on our three-day trek all over the Monchique countryside, riding from sun up to sun down. Each day is a new experience, as the region seems to contain just about every conceivable soil and trail type, from manicured single track to gnarly eucalyptus forests. One day, we’re even riding on a beach alongside the Atlantic.
The encounters with the region’s inhabitants are another memorable aspect of the race. According to custom, every time we cross a farmer’s field and are invited to share a drink, we have to oblige. As a result, we become well acquainted with the local spirit, Madronia, named after the berries that grow in the surrounding mountains and are used to make the drink. Apparently, you can tell it’s good, if when you drink it you feel it burning from the inside out. Monchique is one of those special places where people extend spontaneous hospitality and share whatever they have.
After pushing and pulling our bikes for three days and working together in small teams, we all manage to make it back to home base in one piece and start to think about going home. I start tackling a few repairs on the borrowed red donkey, in preparation for returning it to its owner. However, before I’m done, he finds me in the garage and starts shouting, “Wait until Julian Rapp gets the bill for this one. I hope he likes Hondas.” I can’t quite tell if he’s serious or not, but something in his clever smile tells me he’s not at all surprised at the state of the bike post-Madron. I can’t say a CRF250X with dodgy electrics would be my first choice for a Hard Enduro, but in reality I would pilot just about any two-wheeled turd to have the opportunity to ride this event again.
