After many challenging safaris in Saudi Arabia my husband, Richard, and I undertook what we both felt was the toughest yet: To travel by Harley-Davidson Road King from Jeddah to Muscat, a 2,500-kilometer journey. Riding with Diamond and Houria Robyn, and Amer Khashoggi, we were going to the 6th Middle East Harley-Davidson Rally. We also had Amer’s back-up van, driven by Mohammed Al-Kadr, complete with tools, camping gear and Amer’s second bike.
Day 1:
The first leg of our journey was the shortest, from Jeddah to Taif. After a series of frustrating delays, we eventually left Jeddah just after 4 p.m. Diamond led the way on his Electra Glide Ultra Classic; Amer was riding his new Honda Gold Wing tourer behind us, and Mohammed followed with the van. Soon after the Makkah by-pass, traveling at about 130-kilometers per hour, Amer had a back wheel puncture. The light was fading fast and repairs were done under the bright spotlights of the van. As we headed for the mountains, we could see car lights zig-zagging through the darkness almost 5,000 feet above us.
As novice Harley bikers, we were nervous about doing this section of the journey at night. Even in a car, we would avoid doing that. Things were going well until a police vehicle signaled for the van to pull over. It was not a great place to stop us: On a twisting escarpment road and a section of single lane two-way traffic with an uneven, gravely, hard shoulder to pull up on. As we came to a halt behind the police car, our bike toppled over and I was dumped unceremoniously onto the hard ground.
The policeman wanted us to turn around and go back to Jeddah, and use the alternative route to Taif. Our letter from the British Consulate requesting assistance didn’t impress him, but a phone call to the high ranking father of Amer’s fiancée did. He then escorted us to the top of the escarpment.
Our night ride through Taif was more hair-raising than the one up the escarpment. We heaved a sigh of relief as we parked the bike at the Intercontinental Hotel after the first 213-kilometers of our trip.
Day 2:
We were wide awake by 4:30 a.m., only to hear from Amer at 5:30 that he had been up all night, sick as a result of food poisoning. We re-scheduled our departure for 1:00 p.m., realizing that there was no chance of reaching Riyadh in daylight.
At 1:45 p.m., still only 268-kilometers from Jeddah, Amer had a second rear wheel puncture. He now decided it was time to put the Honda into the van and get the Road King out — much to Diamond’s delight.
Just as were ready to leave, a police car pulled up behind the van and, on seeing all the documents, decided that we couldn’t continue. He wanted us all to return to Jeddah and phoned for a truck and trailer to take us and the bikes back to where we had come from. As Mohammed patiently tried his powers of persuasion, the rest of us sat on the tarmac in the few feet of shade created by the van.
As the shadow of the van lengthened, Amer was desperately trying to contact his fiancée again as “wasta” was needed for the second time. Another police car arrived and now they wanted a phone photograph of us all, fully kitted up, to MMS to the Police Traffic Headquarters, confirming that we were wearing protective bikers’ clothing. The truck to take us all back to Jeddah then arrived, but luckily for us all, Amer had managed to contact his fiancée.
After almost four hours, we were given permission to carry on. The sun had set and we faced a long night ride to Riyadh.
Out in the desert, with no light pollution and the stars flooded the sky. I only know a few constellations but they were sufficient to keep me entertained for the next 700-kilometers. I saw three shooting stars, and altogether loved the romantic experience of thundering through the Arabian night on the back of a Harley. We went through several police checkpoints where we were greeted with words “Ahlan”, and were waved on our way.
At around 9:45 p.m., our bike had the third puncture of the trip. Thankfully, we had followed Amer’s advice and changed to tubeless tires. By this time, the night had grown very cold and we all donned several extra layers of clothing.
At 10:45 p.m. in a fuel station just past a police checkpoint, a police escort unexpectedly materialized. We now had about 350-kilometers to go to Riyadh, but the policeman insisted on treating us to a meal in the road cafe. We continued an hour later, and for the rest of the journey, a highly efficient 50 km relay of police cars led the convoy through the night, with red, orange and blue flashing lights. As we entered Riyadh, exhausted at almost 5 a.m., five other police cars joined us. At every intersection, other police vehicles blocked the cross traffic and we sped into town with sirens blaring in a convoy reserved only for the highest officials. We had traveled 1,000-kilometers exactly, and 14 hours of the journey had been at night.
Day 3:
A day of rest in Riyadh for us as well as the bikes, which spent the day at the Harley-Dealership being serviced.
For the next two days, we would be riding with eighteen of the Riyadh Chapter HOGs, so we all gathered in the evening at the dealership for a briefing by Marwan Al-Mutlaq, Riyadh Chapter Director and joint owner of the Harley dealership. This included a thorough audiovisual explanation of all the signals, etiquette of positions in the riding line-up, safe riding codes and riding speeds. Twenty-one riders would be leaving together, so we were divided into two groups, each with its own Road Captain and Sweeper. The job of the Road Captain is to lead the pack, choosing the route, setting the pace and giving a series of hand signals which have to be passed down the line back to the Sweeper. There would be no stopping by the group except in the case of an accident. If anything went wrong with your bike, the Sweeper would ensure that you were okay and there were two back-up trucks to help. Fuel stops would be about every 160-kilometers. It all sounded very intimidating and we both felt very nervous about how we would cope with this new experience.
Day 4:
With Marwan as our Road Captain, and Abdul Aziz Khalif as our Sweeper, the five of us from Jeddah pulled out of Riyadh with the group at 7:40 a.m., heading for a hotel at Jebel Dhana, just over the UAE border. It wasn’t long before we learned of the first incident of the day: Amer again. As he was leaving a service station in Riyadh, he had dodged around a speed bump and hit a patch of oil. At around 40-kph, his bike had slipped away from under him and the two had skidded across the road in different directions. He was very shaken, but unhurt. Our route took us from Riyadh to Hofuf, and on to the border at Battah. Every now and then, when the group wasn’t keeping up together, we would hear the snarl of the Sweeper’s bike coming up behind, urging us on. On entering the UAE, everyone had to buy bike insurance, and we all had our eyes scanned for identification.
By the time, we got to Jebel Dhana, my ears were suffering from the exhaust noise banging in my ears like a jackhammer for hundreds of kilometers, but surprisingly I didn’t have a headache. I was also finding pillion riding on the Road King to be exceptionally comfortable. The burning pins and needles in my legs that usually haunted my days had disappeared.
Day 5:
We set off at 7:00 a.m. from the luxurious Jebel Dhana with the sun rising on a damp and misty morning. Shortly after, we took our second tumble when the group had to stop suddenly and we skidded to a standstill on a patch of sand.
The roads through the UAE and Oman are superb by day and by night and the drivers well disciplined — everyone knows what to do at a roundabout! We also enjoyed the immaculate landscaping through the “Garden City” of Al Ain.
It was already dark when we arrived in Muscat in the middle of the hectic rush hour traffic. Marwan’s Electra Glide is equipped with GPS so he led us easily to the Intercontinental Hotel. When we parked our Road King at 7 p.m. after another 12 hours and almost 700-kilometers in the saddle, we had clocked 2,497-kilometers since leaving Jeddah. Almost 17 hours of the journey had been at night. What we didn’t know then was that our Road King was within a few miles of packing up on us with complicated electrical problems!
