Adventure Down Under - Part 1
It was decided one evening over dinner. Having toured eight Southern African countries several times on GS’s, it was time for something different. “How about the USA?” I said to my wife, Daryl. She replied that she would love to tour Australia on the GS. “Great! Let’s do it!” I replied. After consulting the calendar the following morning it was decided – we could make 77 days available for the trip towards year end. Within a few days we had committed ourselves by paying for our airfares.
After researching bike rental options, it became clear that it would be cheaper to ship our own GS ADV to Aussie. Hiring a standard 1200GS costs AUD 115 (R 800) per day x 75 days = R 60 000 plus insurance and excluding tank bag and Load Lugger Straps so luggage would be limited. Since we would have to carry fuel over vast distances this was not an option. Buying and selling a GS was also not a good alternative. Shipping to Adelaide from BMW George and back costs about R31 000 and the Carnet de Passages en Douane that requires a holding deposit. Lynn Schroeder BMW in George knocked down and crated the bike as we made our final preparations for the exciting journey on which we were about to embark.
The big day finally arrived and we excitedly boarded for Joburg en route to Adelaide via Perth.
Public transport in urban Australia is great, so a bus from Adelaide airport dropped us right outside Adelaide BMW. We were travelling with hand luggage only as all our clothes, tent, sleeping bags, tools, helmets, riding jackets, compressors, etc. were sent with the GS. Our bike had been impounded for 2 days by the notorious Australian Customs Service because I had decided to be clever and send my own supply of Irish Whiskey with the GS and they were suspicious of the home made sacks of silica gel that were in the panniers.
South Australia
After being reunited with our GS, I programmed the GPS (which I had pre-loaded with Australia/New Zealand map info) and we set off to get a temporary permit to ride our bike on Australian roads. It was sunset when we finally got out of Transport South Australia, so we set our GPS for the nearest caravan park to overnight.
In the morning we left Adelaide heading north to Port Pirie where we booked a 'budget' cabin in a caravan park and set off for the local supermarket to get the makings of our first ‘barbie’. By now we had realised how incredibly expensive Australia is for someone who is converting from SA Rands. After sharing a tin of baked beans for breakfast, we headed north along the Stuart Highway.
Riding on Australian roads is a pleasure, the only frustration being the 110km/hr speed limit on national roads. Drivers are disciplined and courteous and accidents are uncommon. Keep an eye out for the infamous roadtrains - they are up to 53,5m long, about 120 tons and travel at 110km/hr! They do not stop, slow down or move out of the way for anything! If you see one approaching, get off the road and let them pass!
Northern Territory
Our objective was to reach Coober Pedy, an opal mining town in the outback, but with the well-enforced speed limit of 110km/hr we only arrived at 5 pm, having refuelled at Glendambo Roadhouse en route. We booked into an old mine converted to a backpacker’s accommodation. Our room was underground with shared ablutions on the surface level. Many buildings in Coober Pedy are built underground in the mined out opal mines – it saves on building costs and is a lot cooler than ground level. At sunset, a big group of Harleys rumbled in and the friendly Aussie bikers befriended us and swapped stories late into the night.
We left Coober Pedy early and raced a front approaching from the south west. It caught up with us, and we rode in a torrential downpour for over an hour before arriving – completely drenched – in Alice Springs, 680 km north. The Todd River, usually dry, was in full flood!
Australia is unbelievably big and distances between towns in the Outback are vast and landscapes are diverse and the vegetation reminded us of the Karoo, Kalahari, Waterberg and even Gauteng.
The cheapest accommodation we could find in a hurry was a budget cabin at G'day Mate for AUD 100 (R 700!) - our soaked tent and sleeping bags ruled out camping. Dinner was 2-minute noodles and cheap wine. We decided to give Ayers Rock a miss as it was too far out of our way and instead opted for a 4 x 4 track through West Macdonnel National Park, a 400 km loop with some spectacular features along the way.
In search for cheaper accommodation, we moved to Alice's Secret Backpackers, where we managed to get a small, wooden hut resembling a garden shed for AUD 55 per night; although small, it was rather cosy inside.
Heading north from Alice, we were pleasantly surprised when the speed limit became 130 km/hr! We arrived at 3 Ways Roadhouse just north of Tennant Creek around 16:00 where we camped for the night, along with about sixty of Harley crew that we had met at Coober Pedy. We had a raucous party which was still in full swing when we retired at 11:30. There we met Ted and Jen who had travelled all the way from Sydney on their Hyabusa with their cattle dog, Bundy. Tex and Bundy do over 80 000 km/yr, raising hundreds of thousands of Dollars for various charities. Google them!
Throughout our trip we were surprised at how few GS’s we saw in Aussie comparison with South Africa. In the Outback we saw only Harleys and the odd superbike or small bore enduro.
The next night we camped at Daly Waters, an abandoned WW2 airfield with a lousy campsite and a quaint pub. This is the outback of the outback! The typical Outback roadhouse consists of a pub, possibly a small store, a couple of fuel pumps and basic camping and accommodation facilities. They all tend to be high in price and low on cell phone signal.
The following two nights we camped at the best campsite yet in Katherine Gorge in Nitmiluk National Park. I chased a cheeky wallaby from our tent in the early hours but he had already eaten a part of my Superbike mag!
The weather was VERY hot - over 30°C by 08:30! As a result, we could only hike in the early mornings and late afternoons and spent the rest of the day in and around the pool, downing cold beers to prevent ourselves from overheating.
We headed toward Darwin, another 350 km north where we arrived at 13:30, feeling as if we had heat stroke! As I collapsed under a palm tree, Daryl made a beeline for the surf, but was stopped by a screaming local who warned that are enormous estuarine crocodiles in the surf - swimming is prohibited! We settled for a beer in an air-conditioned pub and then headed about 30km back south to Coolalinga where we stayed with friends for the next two nights.
With a much lighter bike, carrying only what we required for 2 days, we made our way to Litchfield National Park, where we stayed at a basic, but nice, facility which had some grass for camping. Aussie National Parks are centered on geographical features rather than wildlife as in South Africa. Wangi Falls and Buley Pools are two rare places where one can swim in the rivers as crocodile access is controlled by park officials. Daytime temperatures hovered around 40°C, so we took a dip at every opportunity. We saw a ‘4 x 4 only’ sign, indicating a lost city, 18km off the main road so we decided to investigate. On the way, a giant ‘Sand Monster’ jumped at us out of nowhere and dumped us onto the scorching hot sand. The Lost City is a large area with strange sun-blackened rock formations that, with a bit of imagination could be a lost city of some ancient lost tribe. Litchfield is really worth visiting.
From Litchfield Park, we headed back to our friends in Coolalinga to find that there had been a bush fire in our absence. Everything besides their house and garage was destroyed - including one of their motorcycles that had been reduced to a blackened skeleton lying in molten magnesium. We left on Thursday morning and headed south, staying over once again at Katherine Gorge.
Be warned that travelling in the early morning or late afternoon can be dangerous because wallabies and kangaroos, known for their incredible stupidity, scatter in random directions when you approach, often directly towards you! We had more than one close shave with these vacuous creatures during our trip! On Friday morning we left the gorge and headed back to Daly Waters Roadhouse where we refuelled the GS and turned east onto the Carpentaria Highway (a single width strip of tar) and arrived at Cape Crawford which, contrary to its name, is nowhere near any kind of water! Rather it is 200km inland and consists of a typical outback roadhouse aptly named Heartbreak Hotel. Considering the size and weight of our bike and load, most locals advised heading south to Barkly Homestead, east to Cloncurry and then north to Normanton but two very laid-back, rough-looking dudes in the bar reckoned we could make it via the 4x4 track bypassing Borroloola (an Aboriginal settlement) if we took it easy.
They warned us to be careful of ‘bull dust’ - patches of powder-like dust that fills holes and is very difficult to see. We opted for the latter route as it would save us 700 km and we prefer the dirt route anyway. Or so we thought…
We left Heartbreak Hotel Roadhouse early on Saturday morning with a full tank and quickly came to the end of the tarred 'highway' 115 km to the east as we bypassed Borroloola. At first, the going was pretty good and we averaged around 60 - 80km/hr. There were many creeks, most about calf deep - all with signs warning of crocodiles in the water (affirming the cautioning by the locals at Heartbreak) but seeing as the water was shallow, clear and fast-flowing most times, we crossed with Daryl carefully eyeing the water for signs of crocs as I negotiated the crossings!
Then we arrived at Surprise Creek which was almost waist-deep and lined with large rocks! Surprise!
All the 4 x 4s we had passed had snorkels and now we knew why. It was obviously too deep to cross with the GS. Panic began to creep its way into my mind as I realised that we did not have enough fuel to go back. I walked downstream along the river’s edge (keeping at least 4 meters from the water’s edge - another croc safety tip) and found a possible crossing point a short way from the original crossing. It was shallower than the other crossing but also wider, with a deep pool close downstream.
With our hearts beating in our throats, we waded through, first sans bike to get Daryl safely across (the plan was for her to bolt as I wrestled any attacking crocs Steve-Irwin-style) then I went back to fetch the bike, all the while watching the water’s surface for signs of approaching crocs and revving the motor and blowing the hooter hoping that the cacophony would scare the crocs into thinking I wasn’t worth pursuing! Crossing a croc-infested river was an adrenaline rush unlike any that we seasoned junkies had ever experienced!
Once safely across, we sat down under a tree and had a few good swigs of good old Tullamore Dew to settle the nerves!
We continued eastwards along gradually deteriorating roads, hitting occasional patches of bull dust - some with the ability to raise the pulse! Without warning, we hit a large patch of deep, soft sand as I simultaneously ran out of riding talent! We got dumped – hard - at about 80km/hr. Daryl’s foot got caught under the bike and began swelling immediately.
We tore a strip off her sarong and bound her foot, but her ankle was soon so painful that she soon couldn't walk. Daryl sat on the side of the road as I scouted the area, but the sand was powder as far as 100 m either side of the road! Incredibly the GS had only a few scratches and bent crash bars! With Daryl loaded back onto the bike, we pushed on, trying to get up and going but the wheels just sank in, helped by the fact that our all up weight was nearly 500kg! I was concerned about burning the clutch so I had to get up some speed in order not to have to slip the clutch to maintain momentum which in itself produced a number of big scares. The thought of dropping Daryl again was mortifying to me as we negotiated the thick sand, which lasted for another 20 km. It took us over three and a half hours before we reached firmer ground.
Queensland
Eventually, we arrived at Hellsgate Roadhouse where we bought a Coke and topped up with fuel. We pushed on eastwards, finally making Burketown at 19:00, completely knackered with Daryl in utter agony having endured over 400 km of rough dirt roads since the tumble. She had to keep her foot clear of the peg most of the time to avoid jolting. My wife is one tough cookie!
The only accommodation available was at the Burketown pub. There we met a friendly marine biologist who, fortunately, had a first aid kit. She iced Daryl's foot and gave her anti-inflammatories and pain killers to last until we reached a hospital.
The distance from the point where we fell to the nearest x-ray machine was a staggering 1 150 km! The only other option would have been to wait at an Aboriginal clinic for one of Aussie’s famous Flying Doctors. From Burketown we tried to make Cairns in a day, but only got as far as Georgetown by nightfall. I felt sorry for Daryl as she bravely tried not to complain about the agony she was in - by now her ankle was about the size of a melon and totally blue. The remainder of the trip to Cairns was uneventful.
We went straight to the hospital when we arrived in Cairns and, following x-rays, discovered that Daryl’s tibia had a bad spiral break. She was now in plaster from the knee down!
We spent a few days relaxing in the beautiful city of Cairns, exploring and doing daily outrides to points of interest, mainly National Parks. (We must have looked like real die-hards cruising around Cairns, Daryl on the back of the bike, leg in plaster and crutches in hand with me lifting her on and off the bike wherever we stopped!)
Cairns is surrounded by mountains which means mountain passes - woohoo! We hadn’t used the sides of the tyres for weeks so we really enjoyed zooming up and down the beautiful passes – something we take for granted at home. What fun! We were astounded by the beauty of the landscape and Daryl had me riding through every tropical forest nearby in her quest to spot a tree kangaroo!
Throughout our trip we were touched by the hospitality of the Australian people. In Mossman, we had stopped at a pub for lunch and to find out about accommodation, where we encountered David (who could be mistaken for Crocodile Dundee) who, after seeing the ZA stickers on our bike, picked us up like strays and took us to his home in the Daintree Forest! There we met his wife Tobi-Lee, who welcomed us into her home and let Daryl cook dinner for us all in her kitchen. We stayed up chatting until all hours until we crept into bed in David’s art studio - a great evening was had by all!
The next morning we checked into a budget cabin in a caravan park in Port Douglas and set out to explore the area and soak up a little of the local vibe!
The following day we toured the Daintree forest, crossed the croc-infested Daintree River by ferry and rode up to Cape Tribulation. We were in awe of the natural scenery, and on the way back we nibbled on a packed lunch at a deserted beach right at the edge of the forest. Daintree is the world’s only tropical forest that ends in the sea.
We left late the next day during a break in the relentless rain and rode 200 km south until we saw a sign for Mission Beach and decided to investigate. It turned out to be a lovely, relaxed village on the beach, so we stayed overnight.
We moved along the coast headed toward Airlie Beach, when we came across a nice town called Bowen. There we found a reasonably-priced caravan park and booked a cabin for two nights. We spent our rest day exploring Bowen mostly famous for its mangoes and for being one of the locations for the film Australia. Surprisingly, we couldn't find mangoes there.
We continued to Airlie Beach a vibrant tourist spot, which was too busy for our liking so we left and headed south again. We rode into the city of Mackay which, for some unknown reason, was very expensive compared to other towns on the Queensland coast. We overnighted in a tacky caravan park.
We rode inland on dirt tracks from Mackay to avoid the traffic on our way to Rockhampton. At one time, the track we followed ended in a corn field and we had to backtrack. We lost a lot of time and realised that we would not make Rockhampton by dark, so we checked into a surprisingly cheap motel in the middle of nowhere. Here we met some rough ladies on their trikes and Harleys who taught us how to drink!
The next day we bypassed ‘Rocky’ and took a back route to Hervey Bay, a beautiful seaside town. We were invited to stay at the home of Colin and Julie, a couple we met in Coober Pedy on the Harley Davidson charity ride. We spent 2 nights there.
Having passed the 10 000 km mark of our trip, we aimed for Ipswich, south west of Brisbane, where I was re-united with my cousin, Anton, whom I haven't seen for nearly 25 years! We arrived at their house looking like a pair of drowned rats after enduring more than two hours’ riding in hard rain. After we had changed Daryl was complaining about the inside of her cast feeling like a slush puppy. This continued the next morning and when she asked Anton for a pair of tin snips, I quickly realised that I had a problem on my hands....she was adamant that the cast was to come off!
I decided to opt for a compromise and convert the cast to a 'split type' by cutting it into 2 parts that could be re-fitted, so we sat her down on his stoep with Gin & orange in her hand and proceeded to cut the cast off with a drilling machine & cutting disc. My nerves were shot as I was afraid of cutting into her leg. Anyway, an hour later, we had the fibreglass cast off and a smiling Daryl! From then we removed the cast at night and before riding each day, we re-fitted the 2 halves and tape them together with duct tape.
We had a fantastic time reminiscing and looking at old snaps and Daryl enjoyed the luxury of using a hair dryer again!
It had been raining since our arrival, but when the rain abated on Sunday afternoon we saw our gap and left, feeling refreshed, and headed south west toward Warwick. Halfway there, we hit more rain so we turned south east and ended up staying in a little town called Casino.
The following morning we set off for Tamworth - the Country & Western capital of Australia. We were looking forward to the only area in eastern Australia that boasted clear skies! We based ourselves there for three nights and did some much-needed laundry. Tamworth is a beautiful town with a great atmosphere, but there were no pubs with live country music as we had been led to believe.
Continued in Part 2 in a separate posting
It was decided one evening over dinner. Having toured eight Southern African countries several times on GS’s, it was time for something different. “How about the USA?” I said to my wife, Daryl. She replied that she would love to tour Australia on the GS. “Great! Let’s do it!” I replied. After consulting the calendar the following morning it was decided – we could make 77 days available for the trip towards year end. Within a few days we had committed ourselves by paying for our airfares.
After researching bike rental options, it became clear that it would be cheaper to ship our own GS ADV to Aussie. Hiring a standard 1200GS costs AUD 115 (R 800) per day x 75 days = R 60 000 plus insurance and excluding tank bag and Load Lugger Straps so luggage would be limited. Since we would have to carry fuel over vast distances this was not an option. Buying and selling a GS was also not a good alternative. Shipping to Adelaide from BMW George and back costs about R31 000 and the Carnet de Passages en Douane that requires a holding deposit. Lynn Schroeder BMW in George knocked down and crated the bike as we made our final preparations for the exciting journey on which we were about to embark.
The big day finally arrived and we excitedly boarded for Joburg en route to Adelaide via Perth.
Public transport in urban Australia is great, so a bus from Adelaide airport dropped us right outside Adelaide BMW. We were travelling with hand luggage only as all our clothes, tent, sleeping bags, tools, helmets, riding jackets, compressors, etc. were sent with the GS. Our bike had been impounded for 2 days by the notorious Australian Customs Service because I had decided to be clever and send my own supply of Irish Whiskey with the GS and they were suspicious of the home made sacks of silica gel that were in the panniers.
South Australia
After being reunited with our GS, I programmed the GPS (which I had pre-loaded with Australia/New Zealand map info) and we set off to get a temporary permit to ride our bike on Australian roads. It was sunset when we finally got out of Transport South Australia, so we set our GPS for the nearest caravan park to overnight.
In the morning we left Adelaide heading north to Port Pirie where we booked a 'budget' cabin in a caravan park and set off for the local supermarket to get the makings of our first ‘barbie’. By now we had realised how incredibly expensive Australia is for someone who is converting from SA Rands. After sharing a tin of baked beans for breakfast, we headed north along the Stuart Highway.
Riding on Australian roads is a pleasure, the only frustration being the 110km/hr speed limit on national roads. Drivers are disciplined and courteous and accidents are uncommon. Keep an eye out for the infamous roadtrains - they are up to 53,5m long, about 120 tons and travel at 110km/hr! They do not stop, slow down or move out of the way for anything! If you see one approaching, get off the road and let them pass!
Northern Territory
Our objective was to reach Coober Pedy, an opal mining town in the outback, but with the well-enforced speed limit of 110km/hr we only arrived at 5 pm, having refuelled at Glendambo Roadhouse en route. We booked into an old mine converted to a backpacker’s accommodation. Our room was underground with shared ablutions on the surface level. Many buildings in Coober Pedy are built underground in the mined out opal mines – it saves on building costs and is a lot cooler than ground level. At sunset, a big group of Harleys rumbled in and the friendly Aussie bikers befriended us and swapped stories late into the night.
We left Coober Pedy early and raced a front approaching from the south west. It caught up with us, and we rode in a torrential downpour for over an hour before arriving – completely drenched – in Alice Springs, 680 km north. The Todd River, usually dry, was in full flood!
Australia is unbelievably big and distances between towns in the Outback are vast and landscapes are diverse and the vegetation reminded us of the Karoo, Kalahari, Waterberg and even Gauteng.
The cheapest accommodation we could find in a hurry was a budget cabin at G'day Mate for AUD 100 (R 700!) - our soaked tent and sleeping bags ruled out camping. Dinner was 2-minute noodles and cheap wine. We decided to give Ayers Rock a miss as it was too far out of our way and instead opted for a 4 x 4 track through West Macdonnel National Park, a 400 km loop with some spectacular features along the way.
In search for cheaper accommodation, we moved to Alice's Secret Backpackers, where we managed to get a small, wooden hut resembling a garden shed for AUD 55 per night; although small, it was rather cosy inside.
Heading north from Alice, we were pleasantly surprised when the speed limit became 130 km/hr! We arrived at 3 Ways Roadhouse just north of Tennant Creek around 16:00 where we camped for the night, along with about sixty of Harley crew that we had met at Coober Pedy. We had a raucous party which was still in full swing when we retired at 11:30. There we met Ted and Jen who had travelled all the way from Sydney on their Hyabusa with their cattle dog, Bundy. Tex and Bundy do over 80 000 km/yr, raising hundreds of thousands of Dollars for various charities. Google them!
Throughout our trip we were surprised at how few GS’s we saw in Aussie comparison with South Africa. In the Outback we saw only Harleys and the odd superbike or small bore enduro.
The next night we camped at Daly Waters, an abandoned WW2 airfield with a lousy campsite and a quaint pub. This is the outback of the outback! The typical Outback roadhouse consists of a pub, possibly a small store, a couple of fuel pumps and basic camping and accommodation facilities. They all tend to be high in price and low on cell phone signal.
The following two nights we camped at the best campsite yet in Katherine Gorge in Nitmiluk National Park. I chased a cheeky wallaby from our tent in the early hours but he had already eaten a part of my Superbike mag!
The weather was VERY hot - over 30°C by 08:30! As a result, we could only hike in the early mornings and late afternoons and spent the rest of the day in and around the pool, downing cold beers to prevent ourselves from overheating.
We headed toward Darwin, another 350 km north where we arrived at 13:30, feeling as if we had heat stroke! As I collapsed under a palm tree, Daryl made a beeline for the surf, but was stopped by a screaming local who warned that are enormous estuarine crocodiles in the surf - swimming is prohibited! We settled for a beer in an air-conditioned pub and then headed about 30km back south to Coolalinga where we stayed with friends for the next two nights.
With a much lighter bike, carrying only what we required for 2 days, we made our way to Litchfield National Park, where we stayed at a basic, but nice, facility which had some grass for camping. Aussie National Parks are centered on geographical features rather than wildlife as in South Africa. Wangi Falls and Buley Pools are two rare places where one can swim in the rivers as crocodile access is controlled by park officials. Daytime temperatures hovered around 40°C, so we took a dip at every opportunity. We saw a ‘4 x 4 only’ sign, indicating a lost city, 18km off the main road so we decided to investigate. On the way, a giant ‘Sand Monster’ jumped at us out of nowhere and dumped us onto the scorching hot sand. The Lost City is a large area with strange sun-blackened rock formations that, with a bit of imagination could be a lost city of some ancient lost tribe. Litchfield is really worth visiting.
From Litchfield Park, we headed back to our friends in Coolalinga to find that there had been a bush fire in our absence. Everything besides their house and garage was destroyed - including one of their motorcycles that had been reduced to a blackened skeleton lying in molten magnesium. We left on Thursday morning and headed south, staying over once again at Katherine Gorge.
Be warned that travelling in the early morning or late afternoon can be dangerous because wallabies and kangaroos, known for their incredible stupidity, scatter in random directions when you approach, often directly towards you! We had more than one close shave with these vacuous creatures during our trip! On Friday morning we left the gorge and headed back to Daly Waters Roadhouse where we refuelled the GS and turned east onto the Carpentaria Highway (a single width strip of tar) and arrived at Cape Crawford which, contrary to its name, is nowhere near any kind of water! Rather it is 200km inland and consists of a typical outback roadhouse aptly named Heartbreak Hotel. Considering the size and weight of our bike and load, most locals advised heading south to Barkly Homestead, east to Cloncurry and then north to Normanton but two very laid-back, rough-looking dudes in the bar reckoned we could make it via the 4x4 track bypassing Borroloola (an Aboriginal settlement) if we took it easy.
They warned us to be careful of ‘bull dust’ - patches of powder-like dust that fills holes and is very difficult to see. We opted for the latter route as it would save us 700 km and we prefer the dirt route anyway. Or so we thought…
We left Heartbreak Hotel Roadhouse early on Saturday morning with a full tank and quickly came to the end of the tarred 'highway' 115 km to the east as we bypassed Borroloola. At first, the going was pretty good and we averaged around 60 - 80km/hr. There were many creeks, most about calf deep - all with signs warning of crocodiles in the water (affirming the cautioning by the locals at Heartbreak) but seeing as the water was shallow, clear and fast-flowing most times, we crossed with Daryl carefully eyeing the water for signs of crocs as I negotiated the crossings!
Then we arrived at Surprise Creek which was almost waist-deep and lined with large rocks! Surprise!
All the 4 x 4s we had passed had snorkels and now we knew why. It was obviously too deep to cross with the GS. Panic began to creep its way into my mind as I realised that we did not have enough fuel to go back. I walked downstream along the river’s edge (keeping at least 4 meters from the water’s edge - another croc safety tip) and found a possible crossing point a short way from the original crossing. It was shallower than the other crossing but also wider, with a deep pool close downstream.
With our hearts beating in our throats, we waded through, first sans bike to get Daryl safely across (the plan was for her to bolt as I wrestled any attacking crocs Steve-Irwin-style) then I went back to fetch the bike, all the while watching the water’s surface for signs of approaching crocs and revving the motor and blowing the hooter hoping that the cacophony would scare the crocs into thinking I wasn’t worth pursuing! Crossing a croc-infested river was an adrenaline rush unlike any that we seasoned junkies had ever experienced!
Once safely across, we sat down under a tree and had a few good swigs of good old Tullamore Dew to settle the nerves!
We continued eastwards along gradually deteriorating roads, hitting occasional patches of bull dust - some with the ability to raise the pulse! Without warning, we hit a large patch of deep, soft sand as I simultaneously ran out of riding talent! We got dumped – hard - at about 80km/hr. Daryl’s foot got caught under the bike and began swelling immediately.
We tore a strip off her sarong and bound her foot, but her ankle was soon so painful that she soon couldn't walk. Daryl sat on the side of the road as I scouted the area, but the sand was powder as far as 100 m either side of the road! Incredibly the GS had only a few scratches and bent crash bars! With Daryl loaded back onto the bike, we pushed on, trying to get up and going but the wheels just sank in, helped by the fact that our all up weight was nearly 500kg! I was concerned about burning the clutch so I had to get up some speed in order not to have to slip the clutch to maintain momentum which in itself produced a number of big scares. The thought of dropping Daryl again was mortifying to me as we negotiated the thick sand, which lasted for another 20 km. It took us over three and a half hours before we reached firmer ground.
Queensland
Eventually, we arrived at Hellsgate Roadhouse where we bought a Coke and topped up with fuel. We pushed on eastwards, finally making Burketown at 19:00, completely knackered with Daryl in utter agony having endured over 400 km of rough dirt roads since the tumble. She had to keep her foot clear of the peg most of the time to avoid jolting. My wife is one tough cookie!
The only accommodation available was at the Burketown pub. There we met a friendly marine biologist who, fortunately, had a first aid kit. She iced Daryl's foot and gave her anti-inflammatories and pain killers to last until we reached a hospital.
The distance from the point where we fell to the nearest x-ray machine was a staggering 1 150 km! The only other option would have been to wait at an Aboriginal clinic for one of Aussie’s famous Flying Doctors. From Burketown we tried to make Cairns in a day, but only got as far as Georgetown by nightfall. I felt sorry for Daryl as she bravely tried not to complain about the agony she was in - by now her ankle was about the size of a melon and totally blue. The remainder of the trip to Cairns was uneventful.
We went straight to the hospital when we arrived in Cairns and, following x-rays, discovered that Daryl’s tibia had a bad spiral break. She was now in plaster from the knee down!
We spent a few days relaxing in the beautiful city of Cairns, exploring and doing daily outrides to points of interest, mainly National Parks. (We must have looked like real die-hards cruising around Cairns, Daryl on the back of the bike, leg in plaster and crutches in hand with me lifting her on and off the bike wherever we stopped!)
Cairns is surrounded by mountains which means mountain passes - woohoo! We hadn’t used the sides of the tyres for weeks so we really enjoyed zooming up and down the beautiful passes – something we take for granted at home. What fun! We were astounded by the beauty of the landscape and Daryl had me riding through every tropical forest nearby in her quest to spot a tree kangaroo!
Throughout our trip we were touched by the hospitality of the Australian people. In Mossman, we had stopped at a pub for lunch and to find out about accommodation, where we encountered David (who could be mistaken for Crocodile Dundee) who, after seeing the ZA stickers on our bike, picked us up like strays and took us to his home in the Daintree Forest! There we met his wife Tobi-Lee, who welcomed us into her home and let Daryl cook dinner for us all in her kitchen. We stayed up chatting until all hours until we crept into bed in David’s art studio - a great evening was had by all!
The next morning we checked into a budget cabin in a caravan park in Port Douglas and set out to explore the area and soak up a little of the local vibe!
The following day we toured the Daintree forest, crossed the croc-infested Daintree River by ferry and rode up to Cape Tribulation. We were in awe of the natural scenery, and on the way back we nibbled on a packed lunch at a deserted beach right at the edge of the forest. Daintree is the world’s only tropical forest that ends in the sea.
We left late the next day during a break in the relentless rain and rode 200 km south until we saw a sign for Mission Beach and decided to investigate. It turned out to be a lovely, relaxed village on the beach, so we stayed overnight.
We moved along the coast headed toward Airlie Beach, when we came across a nice town called Bowen. There we found a reasonably-priced caravan park and booked a cabin for two nights. We spent our rest day exploring Bowen mostly famous for its mangoes and for being one of the locations for the film Australia. Surprisingly, we couldn't find mangoes there.
We continued to Airlie Beach a vibrant tourist spot, which was too busy for our liking so we left and headed south again. We rode into the city of Mackay which, for some unknown reason, was very expensive compared to other towns on the Queensland coast. We overnighted in a tacky caravan park.
We rode inland on dirt tracks from Mackay to avoid the traffic on our way to Rockhampton. At one time, the track we followed ended in a corn field and we had to backtrack. We lost a lot of time and realised that we would not make Rockhampton by dark, so we checked into a surprisingly cheap motel in the middle of nowhere. Here we met some rough ladies on their trikes and Harleys who taught us how to drink!
The next day we bypassed ‘Rocky’ and took a back route to Hervey Bay, a beautiful seaside town. We were invited to stay at the home of Colin and Julie, a couple we met in Coober Pedy on the Harley Davidson charity ride. We spent 2 nights there.
Having passed the 10 000 km mark of our trip, we aimed for Ipswich, south west of Brisbane, where I was re-united with my cousin, Anton, whom I haven't seen for nearly 25 years! We arrived at their house looking like a pair of drowned rats after enduring more than two hours’ riding in hard rain. After we had changed Daryl was complaining about the inside of her cast feeling like a slush puppy. This continued the next morning and when she asked Anton for a pair of tin snips, I quickly realised that I had a problem on my hands....she was adamant that the cast was to come off!
I decided to opt for a compromise and convert the cast to a 'split type' by cutting it into 2 parts that could be re-fitted, so we sat her down on his stoep with Gin & orange in her hand and proceeded to cut the cast off with a drilling machine & cutting disc. My nerves were shot as I was afraid of cutting into her leg. Anyway, an hour later, we had the fibreglass cast off and a smiling Daryl! From then we removed the cast at night and before riding each day, we re-fitted the 2 halves and tape them together with duct tape.
We had a fantastic time reminiscing and looking at old snaps and Daryl enjoyed the luxury of using a hair dryer again!
It had been raining since our arrival, but when the rain abated on Sunday afternoon we saw our gap and left, feeling refreshed, and headed south west toward Warwick. Halfway there, we hit more rain so we turned south east and ended up staying in a little town called Casino.
The following morning we set off for Tamworth - the Country & Western capital of Australia. We were looking forward to the only area in eastern Australia that boasted clear skies! We based ourselves there for three nights and did some much-needed laundry. Tamworth is a beautiful town with a great atmosphere, but there were no pubs with live country music as we had been led to believe.
Continued in Part 2 in a separate posting
