Dirt is talking to me. Into day 12 of the ride and clicking over the 2,000km mark somewhere, the road and I are tight. I am inevitably riding solo again — you start alone, end alone. OK, lots of angels and kisses hovering in this white-shredded acrylic sky, and a few Devil pricks, as Hetty the 1,200 BMW GSA beastess burs and purrs beneath me.