One of the main motivators I have for continually spewing Dirty ranting content across the niche reaches of the net is the rad units that make up the DN Global Collective. Dotted across the globe, they may not share post codes any more, but what they do share is an intrinsic passion for cycling.

I’m not talking about an Ex-golfer come lately love for the sport either… I’m talking about that deep seated, ingrained, innate and unquenchable hunger for an activity that in all reality has actually transcended being merely a sport.

I’m talking about people who don’t feel the need to awkwardly spill forth that “I ride bikes too” as little bits of spittle hit you in the face. The DNGC’s may be speaking with you at work (and they all work in some guise or another, not to put food on the table, but to put fresh tires on their steeds), but part of their brain is thinking about the next ride… Or the next mission… Or how they can get through that first turn on their favourite trail just a bit quicker to nail that double… Or how they’re going to find 10 seconds on that climb in town to take down a brother… Or how they can fit in an extra couple of rides in the week ahead… Or can they get another trip out of that chain… Or why the fuck were pressfit BB’s invented in the first place?

But aside from their cast iron commitment to the two wheeled life, what’s most inspiring is when someone from this group pops out of a bowl of gels and does something fucking epic. And this brings me to the point of today’s rant: Me Mate Dave. Or as he’s more appropriately known; Diesel.

Some may recall Diesel from the Brissy Mini mission, where he took me out for a lap/flogging around Brisbane:


“Fee Fi Fo Fum, I’m still ripping your legs off and/or snapping my handlebars”

But, that’s not really the full Diesel story, not by a long way. Well before there was Dirty Nomad, there was a failed amateur road career, which saw many years of 4.45am alarms and thousands of KM’s ridden, most of which was with Diesel. Or more accurately, trying to hold on to his back wheel and shelter behind his lanky carcass as he tried to rip both his cranks and my legs off. This was back in the days of 180km hell rides on Saturday, back up with an equally hellish 120km’s on a Sunday…

Diesel was put on earth to break SRAM road parts, sweat through Alu handlebars (Real talk – He once went through 7 in 12 months), smash wheels, terrify other bike riders and also win sprints from breaks that he created in 40 degree heats on the last day of a fucking hard 5 day stage race:


Finishing what he started – Baller (Photo courtesy of Shep)

He’s your quintessential road racer, like a Steve Cummings, but with more parts destruction. He doesn’t do the CX fad thing, or bother with dabbling in MTB on the side, he just wants to smash the utter shit out of road bikes until their manufactures send out a Navy SEAL team to try and rescue their product from him. I once even saw him in a stage race hit with enough cramp to kill a donkey and he still recovered the next day to make people cry.

Its fitting then that Diesel is having some time out from taking to the local Brisbane peloton with a pair of pliers and a blow torch to focus on a an extremely noble and worthy cause. To abdicate myself from being serious for a moment, I will hand over to Diesel for him to describe this adventure in his own words:

“I believe that every child deserves the chance to grow up and make a lifetime of memories.

Inspired by the recent diagnosis of my 2 year old niece Freya, in July of this year I am undertaking an epic 14-day cycle journey spanning 4300km across Australia from Perth to Brisbane, raising money for Cystic Fibrosis research.

I am in a race against time and I need your help.

The money raised will go towards Cystic Fibrosis research that will contribute towards finding a cure. The research is being carried out by Professor Claire Wainwright and Peter Sly and their who’s work is acclaimed internationally.”

Or as I would say, Diesel got pissed off with a fuckwit of a disease and decided to punch it in the face by riding across Straya, and no, I don’t mean a ride here and there, I mean right across the motherfucker:


Diesel ain’t got no time for Google maps – this is analogue planning

4,300km’s in 14 days… And yes, solo… Maths indicates thats around 307km’s per day and yes, more than the TDF route in any given year, an absolute mission in anyone’s books. Its a good thing then that Diesel passionately loves pain in the same way that I love Italian breakfast donuts (Yes, the ones in Finale filled with custard). Don’t worry, no panniers will be involved in this quest, given his Road Racer AF heritage, its just the man himself and one poor road bike which will never be able to be sold second hand.

So, if you feel like being a GC yourself, hit this page here to donate to the Diesel mission and what will no doubt be an exceedingly epic 14 days SOLO on the bike. If anyone can do it, its the Diesel unit himself.

Thanks for the inspiration bro and for having the balls for taking on something most people wouldn’t even want to do in a car, I hope you raise a shit load of cash for a great cause. Of all the people I know, you’re the right man/beast for the job:


Arrrggggghhhh, I get paid in beer if I win!

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