Just before this was taken. I broke the NEW driving light on the bike and swore VERY FUCKING LOUDLY!
Here I am taping uo the busted light so I can go- man from Snowy bloody River style- down the infamous “Gunshot” drop into the creek.
The creek was ankle deep.
Ok it’s Kat’s bikini top and Duncy’s Jimbly Jam bot bots:
When you want to celebrate stuff.
So go crazy folks. She is all I need.
Tired as I am of people going out to thr GBR (Great Barrier etc) and taking pics of what could be ANY idiot in a snorkel mas, I decided to “sex it up” a bit.
Vote now if this is a winner…
Yes, the bikini top and the Jim Jams pants made it across the Savannah Way.
It’s not a real tough trip- but a good warm up for the hell of the Telegraph Track (Cape York)
Stuff:
- We missed Roper bar just to avoid 100k’s of unknown dirt (we knew it was THERE, we just didn’t know what it was like)
- The road was at times, sandy, rutted, corrugated, gravel and various combinations of these.
- The sandy patches meant we often parked the bike (when having a break)in the middle of the road to ensure it didn’t fall over. The long roads made one bloke slow down coz he “thought it was a horse”. I think he was drunk.
- One couple were so impressed/amazed/freaked they stopped, took a pic, then took a polaroid of us and gave it to us. Will scan later.
- First river crossings- easy. Hilarious video of Rachel (her filming) begging to be dropped off and allowed to walk it. Ego maniac at the controls assures her it will be ok. He’s right and the ego gets bigger still.
- The Burketown pub has a white and a black bar. As in your skin colour. In 2005. We did not go there to change the status quo, and as a result, had one drink in the white bar and left. Weird. – Karumba has more grey nomads that grains of sand. One old fella caught a HUGE (20 kilo!) Jew fish and gave us two HUGE fillets- fantastic!
- At Mt Suprise there is a flintstones themed Caravan park, and in said park, you can get a guided tour of the bush and stuff from a verbose, clever, excellent 8 year old guide. Truly.
See “Round Oz 2005″ for more pics and captions.
Cairns
We’ve made it. No more damn dirt. 3000k’s of dirt from Darwin to Carins to Cape York back to Cairns.
Stats:
Tyres: 2 rear, 2 front.
Breakages: starter motor (twice), top box mounting, one headlight.
Injuries: Rachel fell over on her bum trying to RUN into the sea @ Cape York, Tom sliced into finger with tuna can.
Crashes (bike fall overs): twenty-bloody-two.
Engagements: one. Tom to Rachel. or Rachel to Tom.
We’re going off to the reef in the the next day or so. Going to see a movie on cheap arse Tuesday ($5!!) and then start home (sniff!)
Well, that’s what it is called.
The Hell’s Gates roadhouse is a bad name for not a bad place. Oodnadatta would be more approriate if called Hell frankly.
We left Borroloola as early as practical (get tent down, pack, refuel etc!). the wind is still blowing, the local natives are still fighting from teh night before and we are freakin’ outta here.
Todays track will take us out of the NT and into QLD. The Woologorang roadhouse closed in the last 12 months, so we have to make 319 Km’s without refueling. That’s fine- 400 should not be a problem. If, I stress if, we don’t fall over. When you drop a bike like the GS, it leaks fuel. And then you can have a problem. Just a litre or two on the ground can have you resorting to terrible things.
It’s freaking long way- 300+ kays on the dirt. And it changes – bulldust, sand, hard packed, corrugations, river crossings etc. We stop regularly for a rest, wee, drink and feed, but I am so tense and sore and stiff that I just begin to will the sight of the bloody roadhouse to come into view. We take nearly 9 hours to cover the 300 ks.
Rachel, bless her, gets the tent up while I pretend to help. She’s not ridden today at all- but it doesn’t mean she’s not 3 parts buggered too. She is. With the tent up, we cook up and go and have one beer and one coke. As is the norm, people marvel at our tenacity and perhaps our stupidity in taking a bike all this way two up, loaded up etc. I am frankly sick of this shit and plead exhaustion and want to go to beg. Rach is as cheerful as ever and trots out a few familiar lines. It’s almost a script now.
We retire to bed by 8pm. I have no recollection of getting in to bed nor falling asleep. It’s just morning before I know it. Burketown, here we come.
Last fuel stop before Hells Gates, Borroloola is not quite paradise.
While the caravan park was acceptable, the noise at night from the locals fighting and so on ruins it. Nuff said.
Though, once again, the fellow travellers make it worthy. I head off to the river for a bit of a fish. Arriving at the edge, I meet a nice WA couple who advise me they’ve caught 3 fish in 3 weeks. I decide not to fish and to pursue another passion of mine: chattin’.
I chat them near to death and then ride the 3 k’s back to the camp, but not before inviting myself and Rachel back for coffee later. The WA folks are more than amenable to this idea.
the pair of us load up and arrive just on dark. They folks have their generator AND satellite dish going. I admire their determination to bring home with them, but am glad we are forced to travel light. They have cleverly placed two 60 watt lights outside their mozzie proof annex and this mean the annex is lit, but the insects are not trying to get in, but rather having their way with the lights outside. I file this idea away for future reference. We have coffees- real coffees as the peeps have a CAPPUCCINO maker! Using it requires the TV and fridge to be turned off- but the results show it’s a worthwhile (temporary) sacrifice…
We head home about 9PM- straight to bed. It’s just as well. The noise in the vacant land next door starts after the pub closes and continues until after 4AM.
Finally, we head south. The bike is singing and the stuart highway with its unlimited speed limits meant we covered some big distances in quick time. For example: we nailed the 90 Kms from katherine to Mataranka in 40 Minutes. Smoking!
We hit 180 K’s but this required full throttle and the bike just drinks like Carl at that pace. Have a video of us cranking along the highway, will upload it once home.
Mataranka has a wonderful got springs- about 30 degrees and feeds the RoperRiver and keeps it flowing even in the dry. I’ve been for yet another fish, with the same bloody result. Beginning to think that this might be a fish free journey. Bugger! About to get rachel to come for a swim and will try to get in a sneaky fish.
We’ve lightened our load by ridding ourselves of little used items and winter related stuff. We sent gloves, thermals, beanies and jackets to rachels aunt in Caloundra, QLD. We have ditched the five litre petrol can, the got plate and one hammock. (i am in my hammock as i write). We have gained a 15 litre collapsable water bag and a really cool solar recharger. It plugs into the cigarette lighter and provides enough power to keep the battery a ok despite running our tent lights, bed air pump and mobile phone charges. It can actually charge a mobile on its own. This purchase came about after the starter motor issue- i realised the a flat battery on flat, sandy roads could result in us being stuck. It also means i can stay up late reading with both flouro tubes on, without worrying. It still annoys rachel, but at least she wont be pushing the bike next morning.
We will have one more might here before going south to Daly waters, where we will finally turn east towards Cairns.
I am posting this via rachels mobile, so excuse the general punctuation and errant capitals.
