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penetrating our nostrils.
The riders who come on these trips are a mixed bunch. Some are enduro legends who eat ruts for breakfast. Others are weekend warriors. I was somewhere in near the lower end, skilled enough to know what I should be doing, not always skilled enough to do it. Selfdescribed as“ fair, to shithouse”.
But the thing about riding in Fiji is this: it ' s not a competition. It ' s a journey. Jason and the villagers you meet are all part of a communal experience where the terrain is tough, yes, but the vibe is pure gold.
And when you finally crest a ridge, soaked in sweat, lungs burning, and see the ocean glinting miles away below you, when you’ ve earned the view, there’ s no better feeling on Earth.
Our final day took us down toward the coast, past Sigatoka and toward the highland cutbacks near Malevu. The trail turned from forested tightrope into wide gravel bliss, and for the first time I could open the throttle without fearing an ambush from a rogue banana tree.
I was tired. My gear was stained beyond recognition. My body was more bruise than bone. But as I looked over at Jason and Nate, both laughing at a rider that had just broken through the challenge with more swearing than skill, I realised I’ d stumbled onto something rare.
This wasn’ t just an adventure. It was a reminder that real exploration still exists. That somewhere beyond the brochures and the beachfront bars, Fiji is waiting, with muddy trails, thundering rivers, and strangers who’ ll rescue you with a smile and a joke. Would I Do It Again? Absolutely. With a comfier seat. And maybe more padding. Or just a brush up on skills that should’ ve been there. LW
TRAVERSE was invited to ride Fiji with Mai Island Ride. The enduro style riding allows for exploration of areas where the tourist buses certainly don ' t venture, taking in remote villages and almost inaccessible locations that provide an outlook on this island nation that few rarely get to see.
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