WA Roadtrip – The Secret Compound
Thousands of dollars have been spent on a secluded secret compound in Western Australia. Armed with choppers, cameras and a few of Australia’s top riders, we sessioned that sucker for all it was worth!
WORDS AND PHOTOS BY SIMON MAKKER
A series of giant dirt doubles emerged through the bush to the right of us as our convoy of Hiace vans and utes clambered up the narrow, rocky track. We sat in stunned silence, our eyes glued on the huge, immaculately shaped mounds of clay and rock.
“Holy shit,” breathed South Aussie rider Adam Grope from the driver’s seat beside me. “This place is crazy.”
The rest of the compound opened up before our eyes 100m further up the track – everywhere we looked giant dirt jumps stuck out from hillside.
A bunch of the boys quickly parked their vans and scrambled to the top of a big down-ramp in the centre of the compound and looked around silently, suddenly scared at what they’d got themselves in for.
From where we stood, the land dropped away towards a small coastal township, with the Indian Ocean painting a deep blue ribbon on the horizon. Immediately below us we could count 13 different dirt hits ranging from 30ft to around 85ft, and there were certainly more hiding in the trees that we hadn’t discovered yet.
“This is MX vs ATV Unleashed I reckon,” an awestruck Matt Haggerty said. “It’s like something out of a PlayStation game!”
“Seriously, it might look a bit intimidating, but by the end of the day you’ll wish all the jumps were bigger,” said one of the compound caretakers, Shane “Towny” Townsend, as he hobbled around on a pair of crutches. “I suggest you use the morning to get used to different sections of the track, then try and link it all together this afternoon when we bring the chopper in.”
“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Levi Sherwood muttered, scratching the back of his head nervously. “It must’ve taken them ages to build it.”
“Yeah,” Towny grinned. “We’ve spent about $16,000 over six months with excavators and bulldozers. Needless to say, we want this place to remain a secret. The last thing we want is for mates to tell their dickhead mates and have them trash the place. Only a select few people know about this spot, and we want to keep it that way.”
The group spent the next hour scoping the place out, and sure enough, there were more jumps – including a gut-dropping blind step-down and a daunting step-up across a rock and debris-filled gully lurking in the bush. This place was definitely gonna separate the men from the boys.
“Oh well,” Steve Sommerfeld nervously laughed. “Might as well get geared up and see which jump I can find to hit all day. There must be one here somewhere!”
With the help of a few of the local lads who call the insane compound home, the visitors – from both the East and West coasts – set about getting used to the course and the wide range of jumps on offer.
Surprisingly, the boys didn’t take too long to get into the groove of the ridiculous-looking compound, and several riders such as locals Matt Haggerty and Josh Sheehan were soon hitting the majority of the hits and starting to feel them out for tricks.
Meanwhile, us photographers were at a loss as to where to start shooting: there were a seemingly infinite number of angles and compositions on a never-before-shot compound. Normally this sort of situation is the stuff of dreams, but when you have so many hits at your disposal, you don’t quite know where to start.
By lunchtime the mood among the riders had transformed from one of fear and apprehension to relief. Practically every rider had had a couple of moments where they’d thought they would be flying out in the afternoon chopper, but miraculously everyone had so far escaped without injury.
“Man, that big 85-footer is tough to gauge,” revealed Robbie Adelberg. “You have to hit it in third around mid-revs, so it’s easy to go too long and land out on the flat, even though it has a long down-ramp. But once you start getting the jumps dialled in it’s a really fun compound!”
Sheehan, who was the only rider to have a stab at the hairy step-down, admitted he wouldn’t be giving it another go.
“Nah, it’s pretty savage. You can’t see the landing until you’ve practically taken off, then the landing is really short before it flattens out,” he explained between bites of his sandwich. “There’s not much room for error and if you overshoot it’s like dropping two storeys on to the flat!”
While the lads stocked up on fluids and food, the wucka-wucka-wucka of an approaching helicopter steadily grew louder.
“Here he comes,” grinned long-time Freerider MX contributor and Homegrown Maniacs owner Leith Holtzman. “Wait until you see this guy fly a chopper. Were going to get some sweet footage for the new Homegrown Maniacs TV series and for HGM 5 out of this!”
Almost on cue, a burgundy-coloured helicopter burst into view above the treeline, then, amid a cloud of dust and dry leaves it sank on to the dirt beside a big freestyle down-ramp.
It was time for everyone to up their games…
I don’t know what it is, but helicopters and freestyle go together like ham and cheese (just check out the poster in this issue!); as soon as one appears on the scene, you know you’re gonna struggle to get a crap photo.
And Holtzy wasn’t exaggerating when he said chopper pilot Dave Adamson was a gun flyer. The crazy Scotsman wheeled, dropped, climbed, tracked and reversed around the compound while Holtzy hung out the open door with a recorder in one hand and a fistful of steel railing in the other. Together the pair followed Levi, Adelberg, Sheehan, Sommerfeld, Gropey and a swathe of the local lads around the compound, while they threw down their best tricks for the ever-filming, always-grinning Holtzman.
The 20-minute session was nothing short of epic, and Holtzy went as far as to say the shoot was probably the best he’s ever done.
“Mate, the boys were killing it out there!” he grinned. “I’ve got so much good footage already and we’ve still got another chopper session to go later on! Shooting freestyle doesn’t get much better than this.”
“It’s out-of-it having a helicopter fly next to you while you pull out your tricks,” remarked Levi. “I’ve never experienced anything like it before. You’ve got to be a bit careful of the wind from the rotors, but it’s definitely an experience I’ll never forget!”
Adelberg had only lasted about five minutes during the first chopper session before he sustained a flat tyre and had to pull off. However, being the good bloke he is, WA’s Shane “Punk Rock” Parsons offered his front wheel to Robbie so he could get out there for the second session.
With the chopper and riders refuelled and the sun starting to sink towards the ocean, everyone geared up again and headed out for another blast around the tree-filled compound.
A full day of churning knobbies and hot sunshine quickly turned the area into a dust pit as the riders and filmers took to the skies again, but that didn’t stop Levi and Sheeny from absolutely tearing the gizzards out of the place. Sherwood was managing Seat-Grab Indies over a tiny 20ft double and upping the ante with Tsunamis and Off-The-Side Hart Indies on the bigger hits, while Sheehan had his CRF450 whipped inside-out and was holding his own with Rulers and Switchblade Cans.
Gropey, too, was on-song and hucked picture-perfect Dead Bodies and Shaolins whenever he found the camera centred on him.
For the photographers, filmers and carefully selected bystanders who could keep the location secret, the day seemed to get better and better. However, it was all a bit much for Towny.
“You have no idea how badly I want to be out there right now,” he revealed with an edge of frustration in his voice. “If I hadn’t hurt my ankle I’d be out there for sure. It sucks organising all this and then not even getting to ride it. Next year I’ll be out there for sure.”
One-by-one the riders pulled off the compound and headed back to the vans, completely stuffed after three days (including Narrogin RevHeads) of solid riding.
“I’m knackered,” heaved Sommerfeld as he dove his hand into an esky for a Roaring Lion energy drink. “I haven’t done this much riding in ages!”
However, while everyone sat in the back of their vans sucking in the big ones, Adelberg continued to carve up the course, and started pulling some ballsy Adelberg-style tricks off a blind 85ft step-up.
A nearby bushfire was spewing out a long, thick cloud of purple smoke, and as the sun started to close in on the horizon the rays turned from a golden amber to a soft pink glow. For us photographers, the sunset was nothing short of a godsend as Adelberg leapt into view and silhouetted himself against the magenta sun before heading back towards earth.
Seeing the lensmen still in a snapping frenzy, Sheehan again headed on to the course and started flicking his big thumper every which way off the dirt hit. We were in heaven – every shot was poster-worthy and the two lads were only too eager to keep riding as long as we kept rattling off images.
After one particularly impressive whip, Towny yelled at Sheeny: “Soft! Do a Backflip!”
Sheehan eyed him as he rode past, then headed back out of sight towards the run-up.
No. Surely he wouldn’t…would he?
The four-stroke wound up to half revs as Sheehan approached the ramp, then roared to life. A split second later Sheehan appeared upside-down, blackened against the evening sky, before touching down with both wheels perfectly on the large dirt downie.
“Yeeeaaaahhh!!!” the small crowd of spectators, riders and crew erupted as Josh threw up his arms and pumped the air.
Adelberg straight-jumped the hit several seconds afterward, obviously feeling like he needed to step up and go upside-down too.
Sure enough, two jumps later, the laid-back Victorian threw back his head and his bike followed suit, successfully rotating through his first-ever dirt-to-dirt Backflip. The crew roared again in approval as Robbie raised his fists.
“I don’t believe this!” Holtzy exclaimed. “What a perfect way to wrap up the day!”
As if on key, both Adelberg and Sheehan appeared against the evening sky for the last time, both upside-down in a miniature Backflip train, before casually riding back to their vans to the hearty applause and whistles of the appreciative spectators and photographers.
It had been, without a doubt, the most memorable day’s riding for everyone involved, and we allowed ourselves to reminisce as we cracked open a few celebratory beers. We’d hit an epic compound that no-one knew about with some of the country’s best riders, had buzzed around them in a chopper like a psychotic bumblebee, then had capped it off with successful back-to-back Backflip attempts.
This is what freeriding and freestyle motocross is all about.
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