No one in their right mind would subject themselves to a two-day, outback 4WD torture test, but one Wheels writer is not in his right mind.
To the non-believer, all motorsport is madness. Risking life and limb in a hot metal cage while wearing thick underwear from ankle to neck and going round and round in circles without even getting anywhere? You’d have to be some kind of brain-dead buffoon to even watch it on television, let alone participate.

Which is why the kind of people self-loathing enough to enter the Finke on dirt bikes, rather than in big, solid, protective off-road trucks, are called “Zipperheads” – as in “unzip skull, remove brain, zip head back up, put helmet on, go racing”.




Sadly he came back bent, and broken, and describing the experience as like being pushed down 300 flights of stairs, every hour, all day, while having a high-pressure hose fire dirt up your nostrils. He nearly died, repeatedly, and he wouldn’t speak to me, nor even make eye contact, for a good nine months afterwards. He may still be in counselling now, and I’m pretty sure all his hair has fallen out.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited about the Wheels entry, so much so that I’m going along to watch, but I’m particularly excited that I’m not Toby.
I believe, however, you’ll be hearing from him here soon.