Hey Rob, the winch was made by Adventure Engineering in the US but he has pulled the product from sale. I believe he is working on a newer version that will have a stop-type ratchet on it to hold the weight in position when you stop pulling. It's tiny and lightweight and without it I may still be stranded in the National Park! Google Adventure Engineering, the owner is named Victor and he gets back quick with emails. I believe a few years ago he offered it in bulk to ADV Rider members at a reduced price.

Hope that helps. Regards, PN

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Another early start


– getting good at this – and hit the normal highway to the Queensland border. The day started with a dust storm that made the road look like this.


It was hot, generally hovering between 42C and 44.5C after 8am.

There were a lot of creek and river crossings that didn’t have water, so when I saw one with water, I became excited and snap happy. Ziggy is such a poser!


As we approached the desolate and now windy AND hot Queensland border, I reminded Ziggy that this would be the last of these signs.


Hello Queensland.


First town I arrived at was Camooweal.


Slightly underwhelmed, I rode forth. These places became my friend.


Some had water supplied, some didn’t, some had tanks that had no water in them. Some hills appeared in the distance, an indicator that Mt Isa was looming…that meant bends! My poor tyres were becoming quite flat-footed with all these straight roads.


Mt Isa.


Hot.


Had to find somewhere to stay. I rode into town and treated myself to a cool drink and frittata at one of the local clubs. I hit the iPhone checking Booking.com, Wotif.com, Google, Maps With Me and Trip Advisor to find some accommodation.

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Hotels were $140 upwards, as were cabins at the caravan parks. Camping it was again. I had a lovely site for $7 at Barkly Homestead, $14 - $15 was the norm for an unpowered site elsewhere, so I was less than impressed with quotes of $28 and $34 from two of the parks for an unpowered site!

I decided to go and check out the local lake.


It was empty of people. Maybe due to blue-green algae in the water.


It was hot, so I took off my riding clothes and sat under a shelter for a while.

I had to accept that these camping prices were the norm for a mining town so I thought at least I would check out the facilities for $28. I picked up a couple of supplies from Coles and went to the park where I was shown to a shadeless bit of dirt under the clotheslines and between some miner’s huts.

What exactly do I get for my $28??
This is it.
Well I think I’ll take my travelling dollars elsewhere, thanks.

I walked back to the bike sitting in the blazing sun of a 44 degree carpark, and a rather large fellow with a significantly more mature goatee than mine walked up and said g’day.
G’day
Wher’ve you come from?
Broome.
Well you’ve got the right bike for that. I ride a Harley but I’d never do a trip like that on it. It’s more a town bike.
Right then.
Ya camping here?
No. (Quick explanation of my dislike of the value for money at this caravan park)
Yeah I know what you mean. It used to be a lot better but with Cat. 3 water restrictions and new management, it’s pretty much gone to shit. You will find the same sorts of prices elsewhere but no doubt you’ll find a nicer site.

He kindly gave directions to the other caravan parks.

Try those.
Thanks heaps for your help.
No worries. I love bikers man and I’d hope someone would help me the same way. Take it easy and I hope you find a good spot.
Thanks mate, much appreciated!

The directions led me accurately to the Sunset Top Tourist Park. Sign said $22 for an unpowered site.

G’day
Gday
I’m looking for an unpowered site.
Yep we’ve got some of those.
Any grass?
Not really.
Anywhere for a hammock?
Yep. I’ve got a shady spot down by the river with a couple of trees you can hang a hammock on. Ride down and have a look and if you want it, come back and let me know. No-one else down there at the moment.

I rode through the park and ducked between sites 48 and 49, and came to a long strip of flat ground with a few mature gum trees at the end. I found two trees exactly the right distance apart for my hammock. There was a placid river with ducks and geese and even a few lizards running around. I walked back to the office.




Done deal.
No worries. That will be $15.
Really?
I can charge you more if you want.
Fifteen’s good, thanks.

Steve the owner came down while I was setting up. He told me he was a biker and a traveller and he and his wife Julie are getting their gear together for a long trip around the world in a campervan. He told me about every biker that had been there in the last two years, and he was very interested in my gear.

Highly recommended biker friendly place to camp in Mt Isa!!!

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Steve and Julie came down for a chat in the morning and we exchanged details. They will be there for the next year to eighteen months, so if you’re passing this way, drop in and enjoy their welcome.

I’d found it a bit frustrating that there had been no wifi anywhere I had stayed so far on the trip and I hadn’t had the opportunity or option to drop in at McDonalds and partake of their free wifi. There was a Maccas in Mt Isa!

I sat down with a large coffee and spent the next hour and a half trying unsuccessfully to upload my ride tale and photos on HU. Each time I had the photos loaded, the connection would drop out. Maccas staff explained that this was the time in the day they do all their downloading so it is particularly slow.

I watched my riding time for the day disappearing, so left without having started my trip report. Apologies, but this all happened a while ago by the time you read it!

After stopping to fuel up Ziggy, where I had a very nasty stare from a young women on a McDonalds diet for upsetting some protocol of which bowser to pull up to, I was on my way for a short 120kms to Cloncurry for lunch.

Cloncurry has an historic importance to me. In my younger days, 1984 to be exact, I drove the route from Cairns via Normanton, the route I’m about to retrace for the first time since; and when I arrived at the intersection a short distance to the west, I stopped and flicked a coin. Heads Adelaide, tails Darwin.

It was heads. In 2008 I finally completed the loop back to that intersection from Darwin. This time I’ll be heading back to Normanton, which I didn’t do in 2008. I wonder if anything has changed since 1984? I’m getting ahead of myself.

Before I arrived in Cloncurry, this trip, 2013, I stopped at Mary Joseph ruins. It is an odd place, a ghost town with absolutely no structures left, just slabs of concrete where houses once stood, and streets with gutters and roundabouts.




It was a far cry from my recent Roman ruin visit in Morocco



but one can only wonder about the daily life that used to go on here and how it came to be as it is today. Despite being deep in contemplation of the past, I tried one of Tiffany’s self shots while riding, from the camera sitting on the helmet. Not a bad first effort.


Besides all that, the road from Mt Isa to Cloncurry is quite interesting with very arid, tough looking ranges, beautiful in its harshness, even at 44 degrees.

At last I was on my way back to Normanton after 29 years. On the way was a quaint little pub at Quamby, the Pub in the Scrub. It was closed. Not much good for anything.


The countryside became very outback, harsh, hot, unforgiving, even Ziggy needed a rest in the shade.


There were some low ranges in the distance. The scrub was dry and repetitive, but surprisingly tinged with green.


Not even the creeks seemed happy.


And it just kept getting hotter. My temp gauge often will read 44.5C and I have thought in the past that it had reached its limit. Today it reached 47 for a short time. Ouch. That equals my all time highest temperature I’ve been in.

The rocks don’t mind. They just sit in piles for millions of years.

But there are signs that I’m heading north again, back into the wet tropics. I stopped at the Burke and Wills Roadhouse for the night as the road to Normanton started becoming a single lane of bitumen. I reneged and took an air conditioned cabin for $60.

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The angle of the rope where the two ends meet, should never be more than 90 degrees, that gives you an increase in load of 1.4 times.
With the angle getting close to 180 degrees the load is increased enormously.

__________________
Poul
May you enjoy peace and good health !

I never knew the theory but realised something was amiss when I ended up on my a after the rope snapped. Thanks for the heads up!

PN

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I think I’m getting this early morning thing happening! I was fuelled up and underway by 7am. As I headed north, as anticipated, getting into the wetter and more humid areas means a drop in temperature and along the way there were indications that rain had been here recently.

I had wet my cooling vest to beat the heat as usual but the first hour was only 32 degrees, and it worked so well that I actually became chilled. This was a new sensation and before long I actually started to shiver. I stopped and took off the cooling vest. My t-shirt was wet underneath but it soon dried and my riding became comfortable again.

Now it’s funny how things happen. I was intent on not having deadlines to enable me to meander at a leisurely pace and take my time at places I liked the look of. The previous day I had spoken to a friend in Cairns and he said that I was coming at a good time.

If you can be in Cairns by Friday night, there is a party with a friend of mine singing, and she’s fantastic.

Ross is a musician.

If you can’t make it by Friday night, I have a spare spot on a luxury yacht for the Cairns Yacht Club Christmas party on Fitzroy Island, but you have to be here before 9am and we will be back Sunday afternoon about four.

Ross is a legend.

Still being 1200kms from Cairns, it was Thursday morning, but it was now time to put away the camera, up the average speed and put in a couple of reasonable days riding.

After a while the road looked like this.


I reached Normanton and ate at a small café to an underwhelming fanfare. A little more like a sideways look as if I was a bit weird. Well I guess I am. Three old timers sitting and chatting at the café, whispering between themselves with the odd ‘bloke on the motorbike…’ slipping out. I turned and said hello and they looked at me like I was weird, responding with some grunting noises.

Finished lunch and a couple of Aboriginal women came to the café, one went in and the other sat outside.

G’day.
G'day.
Bloody hot today.
Actually I’m not finding it too bad, it’s still under 40, just a bit humid.
Nice bike.
Thanks.
Where you ridin’ from?
Broome.
Holy shit, that’s a big ride. Where you headin’?
Cairns, then to Brisbane.
Well you take care then and watch out for dem bloody cows on the road.
Will do, thanks for that. Have a great day, eh?
Yep. Pubs open soon and inta da aircon. Seeya mate.

I rode to the BP for fuel. It's the biggest service station in town.


Five older men were sitting in a semi-circle in front of the workshop, and the white car was on a jack in the driveway getting new tyres.

Is this the shire meeting?
Yeah, and he’s the president (one guy pointed out). You must be hot in that gear.
Yeah, not too bad when I get going.
Betta be careful on the bike with all these new laws.
Yeah I heard about that. Do you know any details?
Something about a permit to ride motorbikes. Not sure. Don’t ride with a group.
Hmmm, I’ll look into it, thanks. Seeyalater guys, enjoy your meeting!
(chuckles) Yeah seeya.

Queensland has just introduced some laws to remove outlaw motorcycle groups, but apparently it is impacting on many riders. If you ride a Harley you're a particular target.

Farewell Normanton.


Trucks are big out this way


Nearly in Cairns now.


At last some water on the road! I’m catching those storms eventually!


I put in another 450kms along a fairly unchanging road from a scenery point of view. With the weekend on a luxury yacht in mind, I ploughed on without stopping to take photos everywhere. I stopped for lunch at a town called Ravenshoe (pronounced Ravens-hoe, not Raven-shoe)


I finally reached Mt Surprise and set up camp at a main street camping site for $10.


There was a big storm looming and I could see it raining in the distance, but I stayed dry all night.

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I dreamed about sailing on a luxury yacht.

As a consequence I was awake at 5am with first light and set about packing up camp and having some breakfast. I rode east into some grey looking skies and I thought that today would be the day I would get wet. 5000kms across the Top End of Australia at the beginning of the wet season and I had been rained on twice for a total of two minutes and sixteen seconds!

I considered an alternative source of power for Ziggy, but it’s not quite portable enough.


It was Friday and I had made some good distance yesterday but still had a couple of hundred kms to go. I headed up the Kennedy Highway through some beautiful bushland that opened up regularly enough to see the rolling hills of the western edge of the Atherton Tablelands.

I must say I was excited and more than just a bit chuffed to see rolling misty mountains again. I had lived in Cairns for all of 2010 and although I always talked about it being my favourite place in this big brown land, to come back into it after a year in the desert was like Belgian chocolate to my senses. It was good to be back.

I passed through a few little towns, and stopped for lunch at a pub before making the descent to Gordonvale. This was my first time on tight bends in over a year and 20,000kms of riding, unaccustomed I now was. It took some getting used to and as I descended the roads became a little damp and I could feel a bit of give on the outer edge of the chunky Heidenaus that were also in new territory on the 20 - 30km/h bends.

It soon started coming back to me and by the last third of the downhill run I was doing nice little slalom moves on the tight lefts then rights, not quite a MotoGP talent but feeling more comfortable.

For some time I had been getting a warning light in the display <<LAMPR>> and had figured out my brake light wasn’t working. On arrival to Cairns, being mid Friday afternoon, I stopped into the local BMW shop for them to have a look at. I was given a seat in the airconditioned showroom, a nice strong coffee and some friendly smiles and conversation, then before I knew it the mechanic was back with my keys advising that he had “found a globe in the bottom of his toolbox” and there was no charge.

Great service is one of the reasons I like to ride a beemer!

Soon after I was pulling into the familiar driveway of my friend Ross where I had spent several months painting sections of his quaint old Queenslander house. Ross, always true to his word, arranged a lift and we headed to Ellis Beach for a party where I met a great bunch of people, listened to some excellent live music, including Ross’s band ‘It’s Five O’clock Somewhere’, and washed away my recent riding solitude with some fun socialising.

It appears I didn't get any photos on arrival!

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As promised, Ross took me to the Cairns Yacht Club where I caught up with a few familiar faces. During 2010 I had sailed with the club’s Wednesday Afternoon Gentleman’s Sailing (WAGS) and learnt my way around yachts.

As it happens in this group, the skipper of the luxury yacht was minding La Quilta for a friend for a year while she was sailing another yacht around the world. Our skipper Belinda is a passionate sailor, very competitive and last year on her own yacht she was unbeaten in Cairns. Someone else is looking after her racing yacht while she has the care of La Quilta.



A crew of seven were we and a motley crew we be!


One of the crew had spent the previous day wrapping tinsel around everything that didn’t move,


and we all were required to wear red Christmas shirts and hats. Ross and I looked dapper in our size 16 ladies tees!!


Despite her competitive streak, Belinda brought us in third last of 14 yachts to Fitzroy Island after a less than impressive 12 knot wind failed to lift La Quilta along, the craft requiring double that to billow the sails and cut her hefty bulk through the waves.


So we had to settle for five hours of lazy cruising with fresh fruit, dips and cheeses, followed by a cold platter of meats, bread and salads, to while the time away. We all had a chance to get to know each other well and some good philosophical progress was made at solving the world’s problems.

Once anchored off Fitzroy, we all jumped into the clear water for a well-earned swim.



By the way Paul, said Ross in a matter of fact tone. I’m not sure if I told you that we are the music and I’ve brought this beat-box for you to play.
Right.

Three years ago, the last time I had drummed, was on a Djembe, a skinned West African drum. I had never played a beat-box, nor did I know any of the songs that they were planning to play. I guess it’s no point being on an adventure if you can’t get out of your comfort zone once in a while!

We played a dozen or so songs in front of the group of fifty or so people and I can say that it didn’t finish soon enough for me. I felt like a fraud as I’m playing a basic repetitive beat while Ross is riffing on the guitar and Kat was pulling off an awesome rendition of Jolene! Well it seems that today I really was with the band, a throw away line I have used at many a venue over the years.

We made our way back to the yacht and Belinda cooked up a Captain’s special beef stew, enough to sink a ship, and we kicked back with very full bellies. Ross of course, picked up his guitar and said, Let’s play!!

Over the course of the evening various dinghy-loads of Tinkers, Taylors, Soldiers and Spies clambered aboard to check out the yacht, the level of inebriation increasing with each arrival. La Quilta became the unofficial floating party.

As a non-drinker, I quietly slipped away to my unique sleeping quarters in the sail bag on the boom.

My view in the morning

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The following day was off to a slow start but a couple of us went snorkelling near the island but unfortunately the water was quite turbid and the visibility low. We still managed to see a turtle and some beautiful giant clams.

At 11am we met at the yacht to prepare for our return journey. Belinda and her regular crew Smiley and Norma, were quickly into it and within 15 minutes we were hauling up anchor, with the sails set, all of the loose items stowed, and everyone necessarily hydrated and in position.

It was already warm, and as we sailed from the island, tacking port and starboard, the wind started to pick up and fill the mainsail, lifting her a little out of the water and propelling us along at a nice pace, faster than yesterday.


We settled into a nice pace and took up our leisurely positions to enjoy the trip back. As we passed the nearby headland to look at the home stretch to Cairns, the leg that had taken four hours yesterday, the wind gusted to over 20 knots – very window in our unsailor terms – and La Quilta came to life!!


She lifted higher out of the water and accelerated ahead, the sails now taught and the ropes groaning. We were soaring ahead and the sea was picking up with whitecaps all around us and metre high waves to crash through. Faster and faster we went as Belinda barked orders at the crew. The smaller boats we left Fitzroy with were now falling behind and the two that had been ahead of us, well they were overtaken in minutes and quickly disappeared in our wake. These are the conditions that La Quilta was built for. All was going well.

Tighten the port winch, Belinda yelled towards Norma, with some urgency in her voice.
The winch isn’t working, she replied

Norma was pushing the button to bring on the winch but there was nothing. I jumped into the cabin to look at the powerboard and lights were on for a moment, then off. All the switches were in the correct place but there appeared to be a fault.

There appears to be an electrical fault, I yelled at the skipper over the sound of howling wind and slapping waves.

Smiley get down there and have a look, she replied.

Smiley came and confirmed that there was a problem that couldn’t be identified or fixed at the moment. We went into manual mode. I teamed with Norma at the portside winch and we started making the adjustments manually. The winch handles were put in place and now we were sailing manually. The skipper’s data screen was flashing on and off with the electrical fault, so we were sailing blind.

Belinda is a very experienced racing skipper and before long we were tearing up the waves, tacking port and starboard, we all settled into our new roles and enjoyed the speed of the yacht, as Cairns loomed ever closer.

One hour forty five minutes after leaving Fitzroy Island, we were pulling into the marina in Cairns, a journey that had taken over five hours the day before. It was a great sail but sad to be over so soon.



We said goodbye to new friends and headed back to Ross’s place. I spent the next couple of days in Cairns taking time to shop for any interesting travel gear, catching up with a few other friends, and finally getting this blog onto HU!

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Cairns had been great and if I was one to stop and settle, it would be top of my list of places to live in Australia. These few days did nothing to change that thinking.





It was now less than a week before Christmas and I decided to avoid the coastal road to Brisbane. School holidays had started and traffic would be increasing, also it would be slow going through the towns on the way south.

I rode south to Innisfail and turned right to climb up to the tablelands and into some dark rain clouds. The road was windy and now wet so I took it very slowly as I was unaccustomed to wet and windy roads. For the first time in the trip I donned my wet weather gear and rode through mostly drizzle but a couple of strong showers. The temperature had dropped to the low twenties as I climbed the hill and gusts of wind made riding even more interesting.

Finally I was at the top and headed back through Ravenshoe and onto the Kennedy highway again. Before long I passed the turn-off to the west where I had emerged from six days ago but this time I continued south.

The remainder of the day was quite unspectacular. Cattle country. It was beautiful to be on a country road with treed paddocks that stretched away from the road either side for an eternity. A few cows, the odd cattle grid, but otherwise it was a nice road, with sections of new bitumen and increasingly less of the one-lane strips of bitumen.

I rode for hours, stopping for coffee, stopping for lunch, no towns, no traffic, just cattle country and the endless bitumen.

Then I came to a fork in the road!

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