Attending the first Red bull romaniacs adventure class….. for1 day ;-)
Well, well, well… where to begin?
Let’s start at the start. I was at the KTM Adventure Days in the Netherlands, fresh off my motorbike travels around South America. We were sitting around a table when someone mentioned there would be a new Adventure Class in Red Bull Romaniacs this year. One of those moments where we all just looked at each other and thought the same thing: Let’s do it!
Red Bull Romaniacs had always been a dream of mine. One day, I was going to ride it (in the Enduro class, I thought). But when this conversation came up, I didn’t have to think twice. It would be the perfect closure to a 20,000 km off-road motorcycle journey. Still very much in my “go with the flow” mindset, I said: Yes. Let’s do it. Let’s go!
Portugal, PR7s, and training
Months went by, and as I had just returned from 1.5 years of traveling, I still had a lot to sort out. One thing was clear: I was moving to Portugal. Not alone, but with Koen. The perfect country to train for Romaniacs, with the perfect company.
I bought an AJP PR7, and together with Koen we had an absolute blast exploring Portugal and training for Romaniacs. I kissed the ground many times (I’m still pretty sure I broke my little finger), and I faced my fear of downhills.
The class debate
In the months leading up to Romaniacs, our group had a lot of debates: go for the Ultimate or the Light class? In the end, we chose Light. Koen had ridden straight into a deer while scouting in Romania, dislocated his shoulder for the second time, and wasn’t at his best. Plus, we heard from multiple people: Do the class you think you can do… and then choose one lower. After all, this is the toughest hard enduro rally in the world.
While the organization made the Lite class sound like a walk in the park, we knew better. 😉
The bike switch
Unfortunately, my PR7 is a single-cylinder, and in this class you were only allowed to ride with two cylinders. Luckily, Roel from Mosko Moto was incredibly kind and lent me his KTM 890. A big bike I was not used to at all but anyone who’s ridden one knows: this beast rides so smooth.
The bike was already kitted out with Doubletake mirrors and Barkbusters. The only change I made was fitting MOTOZ Desert tires. In hindsight, I’d advise anyone considering this to get the most aggressive tires possible.
Nerves and Day 1
As race day got closer, the nerves kicked in. Total imposter syndrome: Did I train enough? Can I do this? Why am I doing the Adventure Class when I’m way more comfortable on Enduro bikes?
Then I reminded myself: I’ve ridden 20,000 km off-road. I’ve trained. I can ride. Let’s just see how it goes.
Someone told me, “Once you’ve started, all the nerves will fade away.” They were right. At the start line, my heart was racing, my breath short — but as soon as the lady waved me off, I was ON. My goodness… I’m riding Red Bull Romaniacs! Smile from ear to ear.
Believe it or not, it was only my second time on that bike (yeah, not my smartest decision). But I instantly fell in love with it. It felt light, responsive, and everything was going well.
Well… until it didn’t.
The knee incident
There was a downhill section — a narrow path with 70 cm deep ruts on both sides. Another rider ahead of me was struggling, so I decided to stop and wait so I could do it in one go. That’s when I forgot that I couldn’t put my foot down without falling into the rut.
Lesson learned the hard way. My foot went deep, my knee twisted, and KNAK. It hurt, but not unbearably, so I thought it was fine. Until I tried to stand and my leg just collapsed. No bueno.
Out of nowhere, a track manager appeared with bandages. Since the pain was manageable, I taped my knee and decided to continue. I wasn’t going to stop on Day 1.
At the next checkpoint, the medics sprayed cold spray, told me it was better to quit, but taped me up when I insisted on riding on.
Dumb decision in hindsight. Riding a big bike on technical terrain means you have to dab your foot often and every time I did, I’d collapse or kiss the ground. Still, stubborn as I am, I kept going… with a growing fear of ever needing to put my foot down again.
Eventually, it happened. A narrow single trail forced me to dab, my knee gave way, and I went down — bike stuck behind a tree. I crashed on my knee again. This time, I couldn’t continue.
The aftermath
This was not how I imagined it ending. It didn’t even happen on a gnarly section, just a stupid little tip-over that, as I later learned, tore my ACL. I was gutted. I couldn’t believe I didn’t even finish the first day.
But you know what? The whole thing was one big learning curve. I got to know the organization, I learned that racing big bikes isn’t really my thing, and I’m now 10,000% sure I’ll be back… on an Enduro bike.
A few days later, the hospital confirmed it: ACL and meniscus damage. No riding for at least six months. But every downside has its upside — and for me, that means finally having time to focus on my next big project: organizing tours and sharing the riding joy with others.
I honestly can’t wait to get back on the bike, but until then, this project will keep me busy and fired up. That way, when I can ride again, I’ll be ready to share the adventure with others like never before. OH YES. Stay tuned — this is going to be my life project while I heal.