“Let’s go for a rip”: A Canadian motorbiking in Indonesia.

Mari and I at Seganing Falls. These falls were something else. To get down here we had to scale a cliff. These falls were the most unique in Nusa Penida because of the natural spring water stream coming out of the cliff. The views looking out from the pool created by the spring water were open ocean.

I  was ready to take risks once I put myself on a motorcycle. I was ready because I saw no other choice. When you are travelling to new places, the ways in which you get from point A to B are very different from how you travel at home.   

The first time I rode a motorcycle by myself was in Lombok, Indonesia. The lead up to this was inevitable. Any backpacker who has travelled in Indonesia knows that the bike population outweighs the car population. That means that no matter what, you are required to get on a motorcycle. More than half my trip I got out of driving a motorcycle myself as I was travelling with someone. I was a liability considering I don’t have my driver’s license in Canada. You might be thinking: “Caprice, isn't that incredibly illegal?”, the answer to your question is yes. But when you consider that I had seen children in some of these places riding motorcycles of their own. I accessed the risks and recognized this one as necessary in order for me to see absolutely everything.

Lucky for me, I was confident. Confident to a certain degree. I was taught by a group of guys I had been travelling with for a week. All these boys had been biking for months in the various places they had travelled and were happy to teach me. Most of them at first questioned my ability and I wowed them. Not only did I successfully ride around Lombok on a motorcycle by myself, I liked it too. It was a rush. Give or take almost running over my buddy’s foot and slowly knocking over a chalkboard sign outside of a restaurant. Once you get over the fact that it can go 100 km an hour, it is just a glorified bicycle.

The initial rush of getting on a bike quickly subsided and my careful nature took in. For the first few times on my bike I was in a convoy. I tried my best to tuck myself into the middle of it. Just to be sure I wouldn’t get lost. One thing that is certain about driving in Lombok is that the roads are in outstanding condition. I had not taken on potholes yet, there were a few dirt roads that we went on but I felt like there was nothing I couldn't handle.

I parted ways with the convoy that had taught me to bike. I was headed with my friend Mari to Nusa Penida. Nusa Penida is an island located southeast of Bali. It is a 25 minute boat ride from Bali. Nusa Penida is known for its sweeping beaches, cliffs, and roads. Before leaving Lombok, Mari had heard from others that the roads were a nightmare. I bike now over a heavily constructed Bloor Street in Toronto. The daily rattle that happens as I go over these potholes everyday does not compare. The whole time I was on Nusa Penida roads, I had an iron grip on the bike handles. 

There were three spots we wanted to go to for the day: Kelingking Beach, Broken Beach, and Seganing Waterfall. Each of these places were not accessible by walking. I knew that I would have to tackle these roads whether I wanted to or not. My friend Mari hitched a ride with another girl we were adventuring with, so she did not motorbike. The other girl we were driving with was a novice and far better on these roads then I was. Google Maps gave us the most convoluted route to get to Broken Beach. Which ironically enough, required us to drive over broken roads. I have always been of the mind that if you fake confidence even if you are scared shitless, you will be successful in whatever you do. During this day trip there were a few hills we had to go up. Steep hills that were riddled with potholes. As I made my way uphill I failed to realize that acceleration was necessary. Inevitably, at a snail’s pace my bike fell over. It fell over and I instinctually hopped off. I knew that I could have hurt myself severely if I had let the bike fall on top of me. I took a moment to catch my breath, but also knew that I lacked the strength to get my bike off its side. Lucky for me there were locals nearby that could see I was in peril. This not only happened once, but twice during this day trip. The second time this happened I had to take longer than a moment to catch my breath. I was convinced that if I got back on that bike I was going to die. I was incredibly overwhelmed, but there was no way I could leave the bike where it was because it had to be returned that night. I decided to be brave and continue to drive safely and consider myself lucky that I didn't hurt myself. All things considered the way back from Broken Beach was smooth. 

After getting to all the spots we wanted to go, we headed back to the hostel. I had conquered the roads and not many can say that, or at least come off the roads scratch free. I was proud of myself and grateful that I had roadside help when tackling my bike problems. I was fearless and hooked. The rush you feel when you get to ride a motorcycle is like nothing else I have ever experienced. My careful nature means I won’t be getting back on one anytime soon now that I am back in Canada but, it won’t be the last time I ride.