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.

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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”.

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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.

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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.