Every year, at workers's day, the Washer Woman party is celebrated at Paiva Beach. It's within
walkable distance from my home, only that there's a river between my house and that beach, and
there's no bridge within walkable distance, so you either swim it - and the river is pretty deep and
large - or you hire a boat to cross it. The beach is actually the edges of a huge coconut
plantation, the coconut trees are aligned and the terrain is clean sand, the plantation crew removes
the dried leaves and anything that could make the coconut harvesting more difficult. Ya know, a
coconut tree is a thing that reaches 20 meters high, it's not easy to climb it, requires courage...
Well, the Washer Woman party is a kind of local costumes party. Maracatu and Frevo dancing happens,
local artists perform, it's a big party, there is the "Sea Circus" and the "Forest Stage" and police
estimates that 5 thousand people were on the party.
Some riding buddies were supposed to arrive my home at 8am, but a flat tire made them go straight to
the tire shop. By 9am, they called (I tried calling them several times before) and told us to go to
The Jar. Eduardo is still bike-less, I thought on giving the RM125 a ride and lent the XR to him.
Off we went.
Before that railroad bridge (some pics posted last week on the railroad crossing thread) there was
one broken rider. Bad spark plug. Sorry, I (unfortunatelly) wasn't carrying a spare. When we were
talking to the guy, a big cargo train passed the bridge... Sundays, when we mostly ride, there's no
trains, but saturday is a busy day...
The Jar Trail was a mess. I guess that hundreds of bikes passed there before us. It was 10am. We
arrived The Jar and there was like 20 riders there, 8 of them being the guys who were supposed to
ride by my house: Neto(XR250 Tornado), Chico (DT180), Robson (XR200R), Rafael (DT180), Rato (Agrale
Elefantre 27.5), Danilo (XTZ125), Leo (NXR125), Luis Paulo (DT200R). We chatted there for a long
time, and meanwhile, almost a hundred bikes passed there. Not to mention hundreds of mountain bikes
(and some street bikes in there) and horseback riders. Even some hikers. Everybody goes to Washer
Woman party by trail, it's really amazing. So amazing that suddenly, two police bikes riding by!
Police bought some XR250 Tornado, just like mine, to patrol hard to reach areas. They just asked out
loud if anyone had a gun (totally ilegal here) and asked the land owner if something was wrong. Of
course not, land owner is a friendly old man, who likes to talk and it's not rare he's sitting under
the cashew trees with a bottle of cachaca to share with trail riders... Here, I swapped bikes and
got my XR back, to play with a step about a meter and half high, too see if I have any spider blood
on me... I kept riding the XR.
We decided to take a quick loop before going to Washer Woman party. Then, first problem. Rato's
Agrale fouled a plug. I wasn't carrying any, but Chico had his pockets full of already fouled plugs.
Damn Chico, throw that damn things away! We tried plug after plug and when we were already thinking
that it was a bad cap, we got a spark! Bike fired but then fouled another. So, Rato and Chico
decided to dissappear, I still don't know where they went. The plan was for them going straight to
WW party and wait us there! Ok, let's go... Wait. Danilo got a flat... So, he went straight to a
tire shop on the paved road while we went to the Cane Sugar Juice trail. Nice trail, but Robson got
lost... Neto returned to find him waiting under a shadow...
Tire fixed, zombie woods here we go! It was fun, until Rafael's bike stalled and refused to start...
We decided to rest. Then, withouth saying nothing, Rafael fired his bike. Cool! So, we finished ZW
and went to WW party. A little drag race, I with my XR and Eduardo with the RM proved that a 125 two
stroke is faster than a 250 four stroke...
There, lots of people. Hundreds of bike. People made a track in between the coconut trees. We stayed
there laughing and drinking beer... Police came and arrested some stupid riders, who were going fast
in the middle of the people and riding without helmets! Idiots that make a bad picture for the trail
riders...
5pm we returned. Well, not all of us. Just me, Robson and Eduardo. That's when the RM ran out of
water and died... I posted a message about it earlier today.
On the sunday, I replaced a shif fork of a DT180. It was the first time for me. Easy job, I'm not
paying a motorcycle mechanic anymore, now that I have a notion of how the last part of the bike that
I wasn't aware: the gearbox. I do these mechanics jobs here and there, I get paid in beer...
Seems that next week I'm riding with a complete newbie, a buddy who is an enduro rider and the owner
of that DT180... Let's see if I'm turning into a real mechanic...
--
Tiago Rocha
Recife - Brasil
www.diariodastrilhas.cjb.net
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