The Indee 500
by spottedquoll
There ain't a great deal to do in your spare time when you're way out west of Bumphuck when you're surrounded by a few million hectares of spinifex, red dirt and really ugly sheep. If you don't like sitting around all day drinkin', you could go out shootin' and drinkin'. If you're lucky enough to be near some water you could go fishin' and drinkin' (though you wouldn't go in coz the crocs'll eat ya) or you could do what the Port Hedland Motorcycle Club do and go desert racing (and drinkin').
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Held on the weekend of the 23rd and 24th of July 2011 at Indee Station, 50km south west of Port Hedland, the Indee 500 drew around 180 competitors and 130 bikes and quads to do five laps of the gnarliest, dirtiest, dustiest, rock strewn, sand trapped hell this side of, well, Hedland, with a nice selection of spinifex, rocks and mulga to break your fall, or your bike, or your body, or your spirit. Coinciding with this event was my brother Philthy's 50th birthday, so naturally enough I figured I'd better turn up.
The weekend starts with a 10km prologue on the Friday to determine starting positions. With the quick riders getting around in about seven minutes, and riders starting every two minutes, the first out are back and into a beer before the last set off. Having the start line less than ten metres from the first corner makes for some fairly spectacular starts.
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Philthy was on recovery duties that weekend so was trying his best (and failing) to blow up a Yamaha Rhino (a cross between a quad and a ute) and took me out to a few bits of the circuit when racing had finished to do a bit of cleanup or recovery work and trying (and failing) to scare his little brother at every opportunity.
Friday night was spent socialising with some friendly locals who ensured I didn't have to go walking for beer, it also saw the installation of the magic yellow wristband which meant the wonderful people from the Port Hedland Variety Club would keep me fed for nothing for the rest of the weekend, it also meant I had to work for it.
Saturday morning was a quick dash back into Hedland to get a new rear tyre fitted, so with my bike resting precariously on a Toyota wheel and a couple of bits of timber I grabbed Phil's ute and headed into town. I missed the start of the race and after putting the rear wheel back on the bike went to my allotted position at the front gate.
The halfway mark for the track and refuelling stop is right at the front gate, the track crosses the entry road at that point with bikes going past somewhere in the vicinity of bloody fast. Indee Station make some of their money by hosting tourists and the road in is also the access to other properties meaning there's a bit of traffic that comes and goes through that gate, I was there with Phil's neighbour Scotty and Dave and James from the Hedland SES. Our job was to record riders as they came past, help with refuelling when we could and manage the traffic through the front gate. James, being the youngest, got the lion's share of gate duty
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| Pit Lane |
A couple of days of gate duty reminded me that numbnuts aren't confined to the eastern states:
"Mate, there's a bike race on and they go past right there, so when I give the word, go, and do it quickly."
And off they'd dawdle, most were good but a lot just had no idea.
"GO, PUT YOUR FOOT DOWN!"
And the superannuation sponsored landcruiser with house dragging along behind would accelerate to a whole 320 RPM above idle as we were hearing the sounds of the next bike coming through the scrub. And don't get me started on the flatbed semi!
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