Broome to Brisbane - across the top.
 

Prologue

Almost a year to the day I left Brisbane to ride my BMW R1200GSA to Broome, Western Australia via Melbourne, Adelaide and Perth. I was between contracts and had five weeks to prepare the bike, my gear and get there (see Brisbane to Broome on HU).

I spent ten months in Derby, north of Broome and completed my contract. During the winter months, the dry season, I was fortunate enough to get out and about in the Kimberley along the Gibb River Road, a remote and iconic 4WD destination in Australia that the modern world is slowly catching onto.

The ‘Gibb’ is 600kms long travelling through the heart of the Kimberley, displaying numerous gorges and waterfalls. The first 100kms from Derby is a narrow bitumen strip, but then becomes dirt just before the turnoff to Windjana Gorge and Tunnel Creek. The rest is varying grades of rough, gravelly, corrugated and rocky road, punctuated with river crossings.

I used this place as a bit of a playground for a couple of reasons. I don’t have a lot of experience on dirt, and extremely little on Ziggy, my BMW 1200 GS Adventure so this was the perfect place to try out techniques and skills gained at a two-day BMW offroad course I had squeezed into my time in Brisbane.

Over the last 10mths I’ve tackled a variety of surfaces and ridden regularly between Broome and Derby, eventually clocking up another 10,000kms. I’ve put the big girl – Ziggy – well and truly through her paces and have decided without a doubt this is the right bike for me to take on a trip around the world that I’ve been planning for the last 18mths.

During my time in Derby I have completely redesigned the gear I am taking and have opted for soft luggage, a Giant Loop Great Basin – the older model 50L bag, and a 49L Ortlieb waterproof Rack Pack. I’m still looking for a suitable tankbag but it will probably be around the 15L. So 114L of space to fit everything I need for the next three years through all climates and five continents.

I’ve taken many leaves out of the ultralight cyclist and walking books and have made some spectacular weight reductions without loss of functional items. I looked very critically at what I REALLY needed, giving preference to things that had two or more uses. I reduced the weight from 55kgs to under 20kgs. Once my blog is running I’ll display the comparative lists.

Of course, doing this at the opposite end of your own continent means you have to return the heavy gear back, so I sent some post bags to Brisbane, but I am still carrying the hard panniers and a bunch of other gear, so this is not going to be a lightweight trip.

Some pictures of The Kimberley to whet your appetite.

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looks good ill be heading out there next year , what's the price of fuel out that way ? is it easy to get bike repairs done and get supply's out there ?

Broome to Kununurra
 

I was chomping at the bit to leave Broome having spent two days preparing and organising Ziggy and the gear. Despite getting up at 5am I didn’t roll away until 9.30am…see if I can improve on that.
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Seeya Broome, as I set along the road to Derby that had become so familiar to me in the last 12 months. Now this was to be the last time so I took special note of the landmarks that had somehow become routine. The Warlu Way turnoff south to Port Hedland, the friendly owner at the Roebuck Plains Roadhouse who had sold me the cheapest 98 octane fuel around for months.

The gnarly old boab trees, the smelly decomposing cow in a ditch on the side of the road, the swooping brown hawks feeding on wallaby carrion, the stillalmost finished new abattoirs half way to Derby, and my favourite, Nillibubbica – the rest stop with the best name in the Kimberley!
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It has shelter and bbqs

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Great facilities

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But I always carry my own just in case.

Crossing the two single lane bridges and passing the Willare Roadhouse, I realised with a hint of sadness that this was like a farewell lap of the area I had come to temporarily call home.

The big intersection with a right turn to Fitzroy Crossing was my new direction, It’s like a gateway to my eastward journey that will continue even after Brisbane.
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216kms to Fitzroy Crossing is a typical drive in this part of Australia. If you’re not doing 200kms, the engine isn’t even warmed up! For months I have ridden 220kms to visit my girlfriend for the weekend and thought nothing of it. She thought it was the perfect distance away from a boyfriend!

So on the way I dipped 30kms to the right to have a blue slushie at the tiny township of Camballin
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before returning along the dirt to the main highway.
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My new slow pace and regular stops finally revealed Fitzroy Crossing at 4.30pm and I stayed with my mate Andy, who I used to work with in Derby.

Always good to catch up with old friends, and even better if I remember to take a photo of them!

Hey Monkey Boy, depends on your bike. For a BMW I had two options. 2000kms to Perth or 2000kms to Darwin. Other bikes there will be services in Broome such as tyres and repairs etc.

Fuel varies, but up around the $1.80 a litre, as you get inland expect up to pay $2.20. Supplies are no problem, plenty of shops in Broome, supermarkets, 4x4 stores, and Derby has the same but smaller.

PN

Broome to Kununurra
 

Started at 8.30, leaving Andy’s house and heading to the next town – Halls Creek. 280kms on the map so I planned it to arrive around lunchtime and then consider my options and look at going to the Bungle Bungle ranges in a national park 50kms on from Halls Creek.

The weather was beautiful, starting at 32C with blue skies and a cool breeze on my back.
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Ziggy and I have already discussed the need to get into ‘cruise mode’ so our days of burning up the Kimberley roads at 120 are over and now I’m settling for a leisurely 100 – 110km/h. She begrudgingly accepted this after putting in a strong argument for cruising at 130.

Over the course of the morning I came across several rest areas. Often I would just pass them by in my life BN (before nomading), but now, just because I can, I stopped at each one.

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Amazingly good amenities, but no water; some with views

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and some that allowed Ziggy to ‘survey the kingdom’

One stop had a creek crossing, some inquisitive cows and like many others, tables and barbeques. I took the opportunity to brew my first coffee of the journey using the Whisperlite and my new titanium pots. All performed admirably.
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As the middle of the day approached and the temperature nudged 38, the landscape changed continually from fields of termite nests,
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some telling you which way to go
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one with a bit of unusual attention
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to denuded cattle plains, to rocky outcrops and fields of stone. A green hue carpeted the landscape with the new seasons’ growth, giving the landscape a freshness and beauty belying the harshness of this top end. Less than a week ago a cyclone had passed right through here.

I passed the infamous Tanami Road, a dirt road running for hundreds of kms through the desert directly to Alice Springs. Not for the light-hearted or the under-prepared.
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After much dawdling I finally arrived at Halls Creek at around 2pm. This place is as outback and remote as you can wish for so I found it interesting to find the Chinese owners of the Shell struggling to speak English, not to mention they forgot to order unleaded petrol in time and had run out, AND told me they were the only place in town to buy petrol, much to the dismay of the Toyota dealer where I filled up.

I ate at the Poinciana run by a Chilean couple and then decided to stay at the caravan park run by a Dutch woman and a Chinese man, the shop later personned by an Irish lass; due to being informed by the Indian gentleman at the information booth that the Bungle Bungles were closed due to a recent bushfire.

“When will it be opened again?” I asked.
“Aprrril”.

I don’t think I’ll wait. I might have to re-think my round the world plans though if I can get all this cultural diversity here.

Broome to Kununurra
 

The morning light pried my left eyelid open at 4.45am and I managed to fight the inevitable until 5. I contorted my way out of the hammock that I had strung between two trees way too far apart and during the night the ropes stretched enough to have me lying on the ground. No crocodiles around fortunately. No photo either :oops2:

The morning routine of breakfast and packing up and I was on my way by 6.30, a new PB! Almost immediately the landscape impacted me. As I wound through some ranges there were spectacular bluffs of impossibly old rocks that still echo the local Aboriginal folk who practice their 60,000 year old culture even today. This ancient landscape has been silent witness.
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Thousands of termite mounds laying like giant dinosaur turds are as individual as fingerprints, the occupants building more ‘rooms’ each rainy season.
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Their organisation and complexity matches any city; over a kilo of grass seeds spilt from this storage area.
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Boabs hundreds of years old are flowering and in leaf as the carpet of green grass continues to soften the landscape after the recent rain.
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As each range rose and fell they became ever more spectacular, revealing valleys and peaks like something out of a science fiction novel. This is spectacular country and worthy of being hailed as on of the great road trips in Australia, particularly from Halls Creek to Kununurra. The long sweeping bends and impeccable surface is a dream ride.

Hour after awe-filled hour I rode along, missing a hundred brilliant photos for each one I captured, but this is a place to be experienced and can’t be encapsulated by my iPhone and cheap digi. The temperature was 35C at 8am but it was not too hot at all. I could ride forever if every day was like this.

Don’t ever think that thought.

As I passed Doon Doon Roadhouse where I had my ‘Free coffee for Driver’ the landscape changed again, more wet, more standing water, the appearance of Pandanas Palms and an associated increase in humidity and temperature. Hovering between 38.5 and 39C, I came to a fork in the road and took it.
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Travelling towards Wyndham I had been recommended the five rivers lookout, and arriving in the sleepy township at 11.30am it was already 42C. I stopped for some lunch at the only remaining café and after a number of people explained why I was crazy to ride in these temps, I took the steep, switch-backed road to the top of a lookout, or several lookouts.
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It’s impossible to see the enormity of this place from one lookout so there are about fifteen of them at the end of various walking tracks. It is simply spectacular, even without the rivers full and flowing. Impacting on the spectacularness were the biting flies and the temperature that was now at 44C. My special order veggie Panini from Wyndham cafe was starting to repeat on me so I marched with my trusty roll to a tiny tin shed in the sun to contemplate the next few minutes of life.
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Sweating like a drinking dog’s tongue, I climbed on Ziggy and switched my way back to the bottom and continued to the relative cool 41 degrees of Kununurra.

Broome to Kununurra
 

Retracing back to the fork, I looked forward to the 35kms to fuel up.

I continued on to the much anticipated Lake Argyle. After three days of blue skies I was faced with this,
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which soon looked like this
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and a quick look down a side road revealed these plumes of smoke.
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Fortunately the road veered away from the storm to get to Kununurra.

I fuelled up and Ziggy suddenly turned 40.
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I passed up a range of great photo ops along the lake as it was getting late and I had covered almost 600kms today. 35kms out of town and I turned off to Lake Argyle and once again the road was indescribable in its beauty and richness. Even the clouds were spectacular.
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Everything was lush green and with each rocky outcrop and bluff, it was like a competition for the wow factor.
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Of course the finale was here.
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Then it rained. But not for too long…to start with.

My brother and I did the Gibb River as part of 11,00km from Canberra to Perth in 2012 oin two KLRs. We had intended to do the Tanami but learnt that the servo in the middle no longer does fuel, so we didn't have the range to do it.

The Gibb River Road was probably a better option - fantastic scenery, amazing roads (apart from miles and miles of sand and corrugations) - a truly memorable part of our trip that I would recommend to anyone.

Beautiful part of the world indeed…at the right time of year!
Welcome aboard to HU Old Father Tyne!

PN

You did well to get out of town ASAP from Hall's Creek. I flew in there with my wife in a Yak52 (Russian warbird), and as I shut down the engine, the first sound that I heard was the discordant shrieking of drunks brawling in the bushes. Took me right back! That was the first sound that I heard the first time, thirty years before.
Since then, my wife and I have toured through, me on my Sportster, her on her Yamaha 650, stopped for fuel....
Same sound in the bushes as the last two times!

Rob

Too funny Rob!! Long way to go for a repeat performance lol.

Kununurra to Darwin
 

The loud crack of thunder woke me suddenly at 1.30am as torrential rain pelted my new tent being tested for the first time in the rain. It leaked. Not through the material, but there is a technique to setting it up which I apparently didn’t quite master.
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I dragged my riding pants out of the new pool of water and realised my trusty (well we’ll see) new MacBook Air was also in the tent with me. Fortunately it was in its plastic waterproof bag, unfortunately I had left open so I frantically wiped drops from the outer surface. Hmmm, we’ll see.

In the hot light of day the only real casualty was my box of waterproof matches…
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Lake Argyle was as beautiful in the morning as the previous day. I wasn't dreaming. I wanted to stay a week but had to be in Darwin for a bike service in two days.

After riding the stunning 35kms to the highway, I noticed in passing that Darwin was 800kms away so I’d be sleeping in transit again tonight. Four hundred kilometres doesn’t seem such a big day, but I was still fighting jetlag from Europe, it was now 40 degrees with humidity rising and there were all the photos I wanted to take!

Shortly after entering the highway I was in the Northern Territory.
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I began riding at 10.30am and within half an hour I was here and had to move my clocks forward one and a half hours. Now it was 1.30pm so I stopped as soon as I could for lunch so I wouldn’t get to hungry. I usually like to have lunch earlier than that.

The day became long and hot. I played imaginary stories with the clouds, then the rocks, then the termite mounds; seeing characters in the shapes. In my mind I stopped and took a hundred photos but in reality it was about five.
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I felt particularly affected by the heat today, my lower back started to hurt and my bum was numb, so I pulled over at the edge of the Mitchell National Park, near the Victoria River. It was 5pm.

I decided to camp here as it was idyllic.
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The humidity was climbing and perspiration was pouring from pores I didn’t know I had. The flies are particularly friendly here and they continually dive-bombed my eyes and ears just so I didn’t forget to say hello. I looked like an Arab Sheik after I had protected myself from them.

I set the tent, cooked a small meal, packed up the bike and jumped onto the tent and lay on my air mattress. The tent was still and hot, just like the outside air, and the remaining water in my body drained from my pores as I fell into a slumber.

When I woke I was much drier and I checked the time to see how long before the sun came up. It was 11pm. Bugger. This was not my best nights sleep.

Approaching Darwin
 

Consuming a quick breakfast, the rest of my water and at least four flies,
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I wheeled out of the little camp-spot, justifiably refusing to pay my camp fees.
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Despite the best intentions, the tanks were empty.
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This was one of those ‘must do’ days where I had to get to Darwin in time to find a place to stay and be ready to drop Ziggy off in the morning. For her 40,000th birthday I’m giving her all new fluids, adjusting the valves and whatever her big BMW heart desires, err…requires.

Katherine was still 170kms away, and Darwin 300kms further north. The roads were again empty as they had been for most of the trip apart from the odd road-train and blue commodore. Storms again threatened and some blustery winds tried to push us around, but Ziggy had none of it and we arrived in Katherine and topped up the fuel.

Due to the rain associated with the recent cyclone and an early start to the wet season, the landscape became greener and more lush; the ‘water over road’ signs marked newly dried tarmac; the numerous floodways had pools at the side of the road inching back from the domain of tyres; all an indication of how recently the rain fell.

But for me and Ziggy it was dry skies and dry tarmac all the way. I came across my first real traffic for the trip as Darwin neared, but being a Sunday I think I was spared the worst of it.

After some spiritual consultation with My Maps, Google Maps, Booking.com, Hotels.com and Google search, I settled on a van park just four kilometres from tomorrow’s rendezvous with Ziggy’s maker…or at least their rep.

I unloaded the gear, and tucked Ziggy into her cover, while I had a well earned dip in the pool, dinner from my vast stores and some calls to worried relatives to advise that I’m still alive and they are still in the will.

A bit light on with the piccies for this leg. The next two full days I spent in Darwin getting Ziggy serviced and catching up with some old friends.

Darwin to Queensland
 

Check out time was at 10am and that’s exactly what time I left; not the early start I wanted but I was heading for Mataranka Springs, a beautiful oasis south of Katherine. It’s my mum’s favourite place.

I decided to drop by and show the guys at Cyclone Motors ( where Ziggy was serviced) the setup of my gear as they only saw her naked. They were a bit busy so I headed back to the highway to go south. It’s pretty straightforward, a single turn-off to the right to Palmerston, and veer to the left to follow the Stuart Highway to Katherine. I veered right. Bugger.

After finding my way back to the highway and only able to turn left to go north again, I rode 15kms towards Darwin before I could turn again and head south. This time I veered left. I wonder if this will be the flavour of the day?

Never ask that question.

Along the highway a bit there was a turnoff to Kakadu that I took, not because I wanted to visit Kakadu again as I had been there several times, but the world famous Humpty Doo pub is a classic place and always has a contingency of bikers there. I stopped in for a large salad and an orange juice. Ziggy chatted with a tough looking Harley over in the shade (the Harley turned up after this photo).
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Back to the highway we were on our way once again. By this time it was about midday and I felt like I was just getting going for the day. My need to get some miles under my belt stopped me from getting photos but there was not a lot to photograph in a wild landscape like this, once again it is stunning country that is easy to take in and experience but difficult to photograph.

I turned off along the Daly Tourist Drive that went a little more to the west, to break up the relative monotony of the highway. It was a bit rough in places but a traffic-less road with lots of bends and undulations was a joy to ride, particularly as I was still recovering from 12,000kms of straight road in WA.
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All was going well today, Ziggy was purring after her service and seemed to be tighter with more power, pulling our load with more ease than before. The road was dry and it was apparent that it had been wet, and in many places flooded, as there were still some witches hats around the place.
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Despite there being threatening storm clouds along the way I only had literally ten seconds of rain, making this a very dry trip so far.
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The wet season has started early and there is almost no-one else on the road because they had all heeded the advice not to travel in the north at this time of year.

Things were going well but it was getting to around 3.30pm and I hadn’t reached Katherine yet so I decided to duck into Nitimiluk National Park and camp.
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There was no-one around at the campground so I had the place to myself. Miles from anyone in this remote area, I backed Ziggy into my selected campsite, put my right foot down on the loose gravel and it continued sliding. Ziggy over-balanced and hit the dirt for the first time this trip! Bugger.
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I had a bit of a giggle at the irony of it and began to put my lifting technique into practice. Maybe if I thought about it I would have unloaded some of the weight, but instead I grunted and strained my back muscles in the same place I had several weeks ago in Europe and that had put me in bed for three days. OUCCCHHH!!

Now in agony, I knew I couldn’t lift the bike by myself and thought it was a good time to use my super little block and tackle – the one I had spruked about and never practiced using! Slowly I unloaded gear and the high side pannier, then hooked up the block and tackle. So far so good but I badly needed painkillers and to rest.
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Tension on and I backed up with the 5:1 ratio and succeeded in sliding the back wheel towards me half a metre. A few adjustments and away we went again, pulling, the bike moved, started to lift…CRACK!!!

The climbing rope with two and a half tonne breaking strain – broke. I took two or three steps backwards with the momentum and for a slight moment thought I could recover, before landing on my back and winding myself. To laugh or cry…no, best to breath first. GASP!

I lay there for a good minute, not knowing if I could or even wanted to get up. Slowly I manipulated my battered body to a sitting position but that was bad for my original back problem so I managed to get on all fours with the finesse of a turtle trying to right itself and I started resembling a biped once again.

I walked to the still resting Ziggy and looked at the tangle of lightweight cable and climbing rope, not impressed with the first and final performance of the latter! So at this stage it was still around 38C, I was in pain with my back and I noticed a grazed shin, it was less than an hour to sunset, I still need to pitch the tent, and discovered that after selecting a nice spot at the back of the camping area only the toilet block at the front of the camping area was open due to the wet season.

My eyes were drawn to the BMW tie-down strap I use to secure the waterproof bag, and realized I could loop it around two points and do the job of the climbing rope. Good thing I wasn’t climbing, I thought! I hooked up the strap and secured the end into the ratchet and attached the carabiner.

I clasped my hands around the light wooden dowel handle and started walking backwards. Like magic, Ziggy lifted slowly to her wheels and came to rest on the sidestand that I had fortunately remembered to put down. Ziggy was back. The lightweight, ultra-compact block and tackle has earned its place well and truly in my tool kit.
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Putting up the tent with a sodden t-shirt, flies in my eyes and ears and the ever-present back spasm, seemed like a minor event in comparison. Air mattress inflated, I assembled my chair to collapse in sweaty agony before contemplating making a meal. Having a chair with a back is bliss – another well earned piece of kit.

With the stove operation now routine, I prepared a good meal and eventually climbed into my tent. I lay there thinking how important it has been to reduce the weight of my gear and have simple to remove luggage. Carrying this extra weight and hard panniers has shown me that going ultralight with gear is how I want to travel. Once I get to Brisbane I will be removing those panniers for the last time.

The overnight rain was nice, now that I’ve learnt to set up my tent correctly. I stayed dry.

Darwin to Queensland
 

Repacking the panniers and folding camping gear was slow going this morning. I had gone for a long walk to see the falls and cliffs of this part of the park, but the focus had been on stretching and freeing up the painful area in my back. The river was beautiful,
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and the crocodile trap was a reminder not to swim
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The front toilet block also had a shower with hot water so I aimed the nozzle at the offending part of my back, which along with the movement, helped. They were the most interesting toilets for the trip so far.
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Another 10am start, I rode my way back to the highway and the 60kms to Katherine. I stopped for a nice cooked breakfast and large mug of coffee and was feeling human again.

Another 100 metres down the road was the shopping complex where I bought some breakfast things, fresh fruit and slipped into the pharmacy for some much needed pain-killers and anti-inflammatories. It was only another 100kms to Mataranka Springs where I pulled in with the mercury approaching 40C.

The springs were as I remember them. At around 33C, the springs form part of the Roper River in the Elsey Conservation Reserve. The surrounds have a walking path and stone walls, almost resembling a swimming pool. Tall palms full of thousands of red flying foxes surround the area with their calls and quarrels echoing through the dense canopy.
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I relaxed in the water for a good hour and a half, reminding me why this is an oasis and a must to visit. The homestead with overpriced campsites - $24 unpowered – is at the entrance to the park.

I decided to use the hammock tonight as there were two solid straight trees and a shady spot to park Ziggy. I felt it may rain as it has for most nights since I’ve been in the Territory so I set up the parachute tarp – still unsure if it has earned it’s place in the kit yet.
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I completed the camp set up, covered Ziggy and walked to the bar area for a refreshing lemon, lime and bitters. The heavens opened up and continued pouring for three hours, amongst some spectacular thunder and lightning.
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I waited for the rain to stop before picking my way through the muddy ground to the hammock. My bed was dry. Bonus!

G'day Paul,
Enjoying reading about your travels and adventures mate. Your photo's are wetting my appetite to travel the top end. Safe travels and keep the updates coming! :thumbup1:

Cheers

Barry

Thanks for your comments Barry and welcome to HU!

Darwin to Cairns
 

I stayed for two nights at Mataranka to rest up and experience some wildlife
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then packed up camp and decided to spend the day at Bitter Springs, another spring within the same river system and same National Park, but a little further north of Mataranka.
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After some relaxing meditation and chillout time in the water, I walked back to the bike and cooked up some pasta for lunch.
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It is the wet season but the sky looked like this.
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This is where I met Steve and Jo, and their six kids. The youngest was adopted from the Philippines. They had been travelling around Australia from Tasmania since August, in much the same manner I was. Find a place, stay, do the activities then move to another place. They home-schooled the kids and I don’t think I have met a family that is so close. They would all stand around to tell a story of a place they had been on the trip, and five of them would fill in bits of the story as they went. It was like how twins finish each others’ sentences, but this was the whole family doing it.
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We hung out for a while, Steve was a really interesting guy who built strawbale houses and a range of other things.

At the end of the day I said my farewells and headed down to the camping area in the National Park and told them that I had found the Mataranka Homestead a bit expensive for a patch of mud and no power. No sooner had I set up the tent and in came the van, making us the only campers in what ended up being a very large and extensive camping area.
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We ate together and chatted about travel and bikes and travel again. The sleeping setup in the van was amazing with kids sharing single bunks and beds placed in the tightest of places. But these kids, ranging from 15 to 2yrs, were all happy and helpful to each other. Their behavior and maturity really impressed me.

Running a bit behind!!
 

Hi faithful readers. Just to let you know that this trip has now finished and I am in Brisbane, but I'm working at posting the whole story as I can get Internet access.

Please bear with me!

PN

Darwin to Cairns
 

Over Breakfast, Steve and Jo said they were going to visit the waterfall, a four kilometre bushwalk. Without hesitation all the kids donned their hiking shoes, water packs and off we went. It was really hot again, approaching 40C, and these kids just went along without complaint, the older ones waiting for and helping the younger ones.
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Not exactly the biggest falls on the planet!
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Steve told me about the things he had done with his kids such as white water rafting, canoeing, hiking into the mountains in Tasmania, camping in the snow, various swimming holes. It seems that there was nothing he wouldn’t take the kids to do, if he could do it, he’d take the six kids and they would all help each other get there. It was a different type of parenting that I wasn’t accustomed to but couldn’t help be impressed by. Their cohesiveness as a family was rock solid.

After a photo shoot around Ziggy, we said our farewells and as I headed south, they headed north. Farewell lovely people. Travel safe.

It was hot. After the walk I didn’t leave until nearly 1pm, so I stopped back at Mataranka for a cold drink and a fruit salad to fuel me up a bit. The temperature gauge hit 43.5C at one point and hovered between 41 and 43. Seriously hot riding and I felt quite tired today.

I arrived at the town of Daly River and pulled into the caravan park near where I planned to turn off the main highway for a while. I walked into the cool office/bar/restaurant and asked for their prices.

Basic room – $110
Cabin - $120
Deluxe Cabin - $130

Do you have camping?
Yes. Powered site $25

Do you have unpowered sites?
Really? Yes. $7.
Does that include the pool?
Of course.
I’ll take it!

Daly River to Cape Crawford
 

BIG day in the saddle. At just before 7am I took the road to Borooloola but was undecided as to whether I would go all the way and head up to the coast and camp or turn right at Cape Crawford towards Barkly Homestead.
The road looked like this
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I stopped at a rest area and practiced a Tiffany type self with my camera on the helmet on the ground
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Via Borooloola would cut of over 500kms, but a combination of 250kms of dirt, numerous river crossings, back still giving me pain, overloaded and recent rains, all contributed to my decision, that I made eating lunch at the Heartbreak. I opted to go straight to Barkly Homestead and do some long miles.
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I set off at 1pm, fuelled up body and bike – at a price -
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to take on the thin red line on my map. Not much choice paying those prices
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The road looked like this.
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Some hundred or so kilometres into it, I had a rest…I wasn’t the first!
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Not everyone makes it.
Attachment 11493

Thanks for the warning, I think it’s wandering stock!
Attachment 11492

Cape Crawford to Barkly Homestead
 

To break up the monotony there are some turnoffs,
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Attachment 11497

a few locals,
Attachment 11505

a river that actually had some water in it
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and after a while the road looked like this.
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It wasn’t getting any cooler.
Attachment 11501

Note to self. It appears that if a Hema map indicates that there is nothing there, there is nothing there.
Attachment 11499

Did I mention the number of times I stopped for crossing cattle, for trucks coming the other way, and that the road had a patchwork surface that was often raised in the middle where the trucks had sunk it on either side of centre.

Did I mention the trucks?

At the Barkly Homestead I was too tired to take a photo after 650kms…until I saw this on the wall in the bar!
Attachment 11502

Still trying to figure out YouTube! will sort soon!!

I know of Chris - he recently returned to Newcastle with bike and rider intact.

Thanks Scootergal - that was a tough road on a 1200! A postie...well he must be patient!

I've just done 6000+kms around Vic and Tassie and about to head west across the Nullabor to complete my circumnavigation.

A Postie just requires an attitude similar to a bicyclist... slow and steady does it.

Well that's bloody amazing, hat off to you!! Popping a few corks I hope when you finish the trip? jeiger

Glad you made it back to Brisbane safely. Enjoyed reading of your adventures and of course the great photo's. When's the next one begin ? :)

I'd love to know where to get a little winch like that, even given its shortcomings. I cannot lift my bike either, due to "great age and decrepitude" and the results of trying to fly an aeroplane through a tree years ago. (Hint: don't try this at home..)

Dave Barr, the epic legless RTW biker, used an electric winch mounted on his crash bars to complete his "Southern Cross Tour", a few years ago, but I'd rather not have the weight or expense.

Rob

Hi Barry,

Just putting the final planning touches on round the world starting Feb. 2014. Thanks for the comments and appreciation!!

Regards, PN

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

Barkley Homestead to Mt Isa
 

Another early start
Attachment 11522

– 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.
Attachment 11523

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!
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As we approached the desolate and now windy AND hot Queensland border, I reminded Ziggy that this would be the last of these signs.
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Hello Queensland.
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First town I arrived at was Camooweal.
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Slightly underwhelmed, I rode forth. These places became my friend.
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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.
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Mt Isa.
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Hot.
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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.

Mt Isa
 

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.
Attachment 11533

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

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.
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It was a far cry from my recent Roman ruin visit in Morocco
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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.
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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.
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The countryside became very outback, harsh, hot, unforgiving, even Ziggy needed a rest in the shade.
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There were some low ranges in the distance. The scrub was dry and repetitive, but surprisingly tinged with green.
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Not even the creeks seemed happy.
Attachment 11662

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.

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.

Bloody Physics!
 

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

PN

The Gulf Country
 

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.
Attachment 11692

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.
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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.
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Trucks are big out this way
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Nearly in Cairns now.
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At last some water on the road! I’m catching those storms eventually!
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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)
Attachment 11698

I finally reached Mt Surprise and set up camp at a main street camping site for $10.
Attachment 11701

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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Cairns!!
 

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.
Attachment 11702

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. bier

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

Sailing in Cairns
 

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.
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A crew of seven were we and a motley crew we be!
Attachment 11705

One of the crew had spent the previous day wrapping tinsel around everything that didn’t move,
Attachment 11703

and we all were required to wear red Christmas shirts and hats. Ross and I looked dapper in our size 16 ladies tees!!
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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.
Attachment 11708

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.
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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.
Attachment 11712
My view in the morning
Attachment 11713

Sailing in Cairns
 

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.
Attachment 11714

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!!
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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.
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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!

Heading South
 

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.
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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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