Deadly Treadly

Heading North on a Pushbike

[deadlytreadly]

Darwin

I spent four days in Katherine. It was a good chance to catch up with Mum and rest my weary legs. We checked out Katherine Gorge, where Mum saw her first freshwater croc (in the water we planned to swim in). Edith Falls were amazing. The water was perfect swimming temperature and we spent all day there swimming, and relaxing in the shade. I had generous serves of rest, good food and drink, and I felt ready for the last leg on the bike. There was 320km to go before Darwin. I planned to do around 140km on my first day but that never eventuated. Around 30km out of Katherine I was pedaling up a long hill and changing down gears to make it easier when something gave way and I became stuck in my highest gear. I pulled over to have a look at what had happened. I thought the cable must have slipped or snapped and I saw that it was really loose and hanging off the frame. I pulled on the cable and there was no resistance, which indicated that it had snapped. I was pretty frustrated as it was something I thought I couldn’t fix. The bike could still operate but I’d be stuck in a high gear for the last 290km, which would be difficult with the hills I had to cross. I had a spare cable in my toolbox but it was something I’d bought quickly for a few dollars before the start of the trip without really looking into whether it was compatible. I pulled the broken cable out from the bike in order to remove it so it wouldn’t get in the way while I was riding and found that it had snapped inside the shifter. I undid the plastic casing of the shifter and could see how the cable was fed through. It wasn’t as complex as I’d imagined. I got my spare cable out of my tool kit and it seemed like it was the right size and length. I thought I’d better have a crack at fixing it given the distance I still had to travel. It took me a little while to get the snapped end out of the shifter, and used tweezers in the end. I cut the end off my new cable to feed it through but my wire cutters weren’t great and the cable frayed. I tried twisting it back together and pushing it through but it was pretty clear that if the cut end of the cable didn’t stay together at roughly the same size as the rest of the cable then it wouldn’t fit through the narrow opening. I cut the cable again more carefully, which was a bit better but still too frayed so on my third attempt I decided to superglue the strands or wire together before cutting the cable. I had to squeeze the cutters a few times; add some glue, make a few more cuts, more glue, and repeat until I’d cut all the way through. It still didn’t fit so I started to shave off most of the excess glue, and just as I was about to give up the cable passed through the opening in the shifter. It was a triumph. I ran the cable through the outer sheathes, tied it off, and tensioned it so that it changed gears smoothly. I had to remove the pannier bag on the gear side to run the cable and as I did I noticed that one of the tubes on my rack was completely snapped through; reflecting exactly what had happened on the Gibb on the opposite side of the rack. It was probably caused by the bike falling over. This time I hardly even cared. I had smooth bitumen roads ahead of me and Mum had met me for lunch by that stage so I threw the rear pannier bags in the van. I only had two zip ties left and didn’t even attempt to fix it with them. I got back on the road and I left with the feeling that I’d be limping into Darwin rather than charging. We stayed at Pine Creek that night, a small historic town 90km north of Katherine, and well short of where I’d planned to be by the day’s end. There were lots of mango plantations leading up to Pine Creek, and some massive mango trees in front yards throughout the town. I couldn’t believe how many there were; and so easily accessible to anyone walking past. The squeeze tests weren’t productive though, they were still rock hard. That night around dusk we saw a cloud of bats flying overhead. They flew by for quite a few minutes and it seemed as though they were in their thousands. They didn’t seem to mind the under-ripe mangoes.

  I looked at the map over breakfast and decided I’d aim for the Acacia roadhouse 165km from Pine Creek. With most of the weight off the bike, and with fair winds I thought it was achievable. Since leaving Kununurra the daily temperature was still reaching 40 degrees and it didn’t cool down much at night. I was so tired when I stopped for lunch that I had a small sleep before I got on the bike. It helped a lot and I pushed on into the afternoon. I noticed the landscape change, with ferns and palms becoming more frequent, and the foliage becoming a vivid green. I saw mum pull up in the van in the late afternoon and she told me Acacia had been shut down but there was a free roadside camp spot not far from it. Around that time the headwinds kicked up and It took a lot longer that I had expected to ride the last 15km for the day. Not far from the camp I saw my odometer click over to 6000km. It was a good feeling. I made it to the campsite just as it was starting to get dark. I was glad to get off the bike. I had done 160km over 8.5 hours and my legs were feeling exhausted.

I woke up before dawn for my last day on the road and ate my breakfast in the dark, as I had done so, so often on my travels. It was Day 134 since leaving Perth and I only had 70km to go. I pulled on my damp, sweaty cycling clothes for the last time. The sunrise was beautiful and the overcast morning kept the sun at bay for a couple of hours to make the cycling pleasant. About 20km out of Darwin the traffic dramatically increased and it became noisy and hectic to ride in, especially compared to what I’d been used to. I was forced to ride on a freeway for a couple of kilometers when I passed a sign that indicated bicycles could no longer proceed, however, there didn’t seem to be any cycle path to exit on. There was some intense moments in the last 10km with tight lanes and lots of traffic but I eventually made it onto a bicycle path that took me into the CBD and I finished on the lawns of the civic centre. It was super exciting and the sense of accomplishment began to sink in.

  I’ll be in the Northern Territory for a couple more weeks to check out some of the amazing things and places on offer. I’ve only begun to reflect on my trip, however, I’d like to take the opportunity to thank my friends and fam for helping me make journey possible and for the love and support I’ve continually received along the way. So many people, most of which I met along the way, have helped me out in some way or have simply made kind gestures and I'm very grateful to exist amongst such amazing human beings. I feel really lucky to have been able to see my country in the way that I have. I've lived it, I've loved it. The trip has allowed me to discover what’s really important in my life. I’ve found new self-confidence, experienced true solitude, endured hardship, had an absolute ball, and have developed an insatiable desire for further travel and adventure. There will be more in store in the future but for now I’ll be hanging up my helmet and enjoying some time off the bike for a while. Thanks for reading.

[deadlytreadly]

Kununurra, Keep River, and Katherine

Kununurra was really hot whist I was there. I couldn’t be out in the sun after 6:30am without sweating profusely. I spent four days in Kununurra, which involved relaxing, eating, watching the grandy, and preparing my bike. On my fourth morning I met with my good buddy Kais. He works on a mine site south of Kununurra and had just finished a swing. We hired a 4wd with the idea of going to El Questro Wilderness Park on the Gibb River Road. Before we got onto the Gibb we checked out The Grotto. I passed the turnoff or it when I was heading to Wyndham but had no idea what it was. I was on a mission at the time and thought it was just a lookout so I didn’t call in. I found out in Kununurra that The Grotto was a small gorge with a deep swimming hole at one end. It’s actually ridiculously deep; around 100 meters. It was hot by the time we got there so after we climbed down into the gorge we jumped straight into the water. It was deluxe. There were a few water monitors around also enjoying the water. There was a rope swing over the pool, which we tried out. It’s the best one I’ve seen in many years. We climbed up onto a rocky ledge a few meters above the water to swing from. It felt sketchy as the first part of the swing is over the rocks below; however, there were no close calls. We were soon on the road again heading for El Questro. After entering the park and sorting out our camping spot we drove out to El Questro Gorge. The walk through the gorge was supposed to take four or five hours all up but we decided to complete it as we had most of the afternoon free. Although it was a hot day there was a microclimate inside the gorge and the temperature to accompany the difficult walk was really pleasant. The gorge was loaded with ferns, and palms, and it felt like we were in a rainforest. About halfway along there was a large boulder sitting in a pool of water. To continue we had to wade out into the chest high water and scramble up the side of the boulder one at a time, passing our stuff up as we went. It was a really hard walk, but it was spectacular. The pool at the end had a small waterfall and the swim was a great reward. We were the only ones out there; it was serene. The following day we headed straight for Zebedee thermal springs; they were awesome. The water seemed slightly warmer than body temperature. Smooth rocks enclosed the spa like areas. Afterwards we headed to Emma Gorge. The walk to the end was really hot, and we noticed a few people struggling. The pool we arrived at was amazing. There was a droplet waterfall and a thermal spring at one end. We spent a lot of time out there swimming and taking it all in. We had luxury lunch at the resort restaurant before checking out Moonshine Gorge. We really only wanted to go for a swim and chill out for a while but we couldn’t find a good swimming spot or shady area to sit in and ended up completing the 5km loop walk. It was really hot and we were so exhausted by the time we got back to the car. After regaining some energy we drove back to Kununurra and Kais dropped off the car at the airport. It began to rain as I was putting my tent up. The weather was definitely starting to change.

I’d read that the only fresh fruit and veg that you could take into NT from WA was citrus and bananas. I stocked up on both, along with dehydrated peas and onion flakes for my vegetables. I left Kununurra and only had to travel 35km before I got to the border. It was a great feeling crossing over. The quarantine info I’d read must have been false as there was no requirement to declare anything. After crossing the border I entered Keep River National Park. The road in was really corrugated and I almost stacked a couple of times in soft sand. I went to the first campsite, about 20km in and set up. I was eating some lunch when I heard thunder. At first I couldn’t be sure if it was thunder or a plane but after intermittent bursts every ten minutes or so I knew I was in for a storm. The thunder clouds on the horizon kept developing and were coming my way. There was a short loop walk adjacent to the campsite and I’d decided to take my camera on the walk and try to get some shots of the storm front but it unexpectedly hit before I’d set off. There was no rain; just really strong gusty winds. The first gusts picked up loads of sand, dust, and leaves and blew them towards me as I was putting something in my tent. The debris blew straight into my open tent and covered everything that I’d put in there. I watched it unfold but couldn’t do anything about it. My bike blew over next; closely followed by my tent fly being blown off the tent. It was saved from blowing away by one trusty tent peg; the only one still in the ground. I picked up my bike and tied it to a bench so it couldn’t be blown over by the gusts and commenced reattaching the fly, this time tying it firmly to the tent poles and some nearby bollards so it couldn’t come off again. Once I’d finished that I set about getting the debris out of my tent in between gusts. It wasn’t a fun experience. By the time I’d sorted everything out the wind had died down a lot and I went on the walk. It was fantastic. It weaved through ancient sandstone formations and around every bend there was amazing views. I met a traveller the following morning and she gave me some mangoes as she was heading to WA and would have to discard them at the quarantine. I did about 100km on the bike and camped in a dry creek bed. It was strangely cool that night and I had to use my sleeping bag. I turned my phone on the previous day to see if I had any reception. There was none so I switched it off but the phone must have sensed the change in location and adjusted the clock automatically for the time difference. I’d set my alarm so I could get on the road as soon as it was light but I didn’t realize the phone had adjusted the time and I woke up well before I was supposed to. I was eating my breakfast at 2:30am before I checked my watch and realised what had happened. I went back to sleep and got up at a more appropriate time. There was a specific moment about halfway up a hill, still very early in the morning, where the temperature of the air drastically increased; like someone turned a heater on. I must have chanced upon a cool spot in the creek. One of my favourite aspects of riding along the Victoria Highway was witnessing the massive willy willies that frequently occurred. If they were close by I’d often hear the roaring sound they made as they rattled foliage before I saw them, however, I saw a lot from a distance where plumes of dust and leaves were launched well into the sky. I reached the very small town of Timber Creek in the late afternoon and bought some fresh fruit and veg for the stretch to Katherine. They have facilities there for travellers and I was able to have a shower before leaving the town. I stopped to set up my tent as it was becoming dark and looked up to see bushfires burning across a nearby hill, I hadn’t noticed them previously. It was a surreal moment. When I woke the line of the fire had moved to the other side of the hill, which would now be blackened. I noticed a green distance sign to Katherine after I’d been riding for a little while. I’d previously only been seeing the Timber Creek signs and the first Katherine sign was a bit of a shock. I’d imagined I’d be doing around 130km a day after crossing the border but for different reasons I never achieved those distances. My mum was flying to Darwin on the 7th, picking up a hire van, and driving down to Katherine to arrive that night.  The green distance sign read 270km and I had already completed about 7km. As it had taken longer than expected to get to that point I only had two days to cover that distance to stick to the plan of meeting in Katherine on the same day. It was exhausting riding in the 40 degree heat and I wasn’t interested in riding two big 140km days and arriving by nightfall. I really wanted to cruise in to Katherine on the 7th with enough daylight left over to grab some food and get established in a caravan park before Mum arrived. I decided then that I’d try to camp 70km out, leaving another 200km to complete that day. The biggest day I’d previously done was 140km and that included an early start and night riding so I knew my plan was ambitious. The headwinds started like the previous days; they were never strong but they were persistent and annoying. I was also experiencing the occasional ‘face-melter’. The term I dubbed for specific short bursts of wind that seemed to be super-heated from the road, and made my eyes sting. They’d only last about a minute but they packed a punch. I’d done about 80km when I got to Victoria River Roadhouse. I planned to have a twenty minute break to eat my lunch and fill my waterbags. That time pushed out to an hour through chatting to other people, studying my map aimlessly and enjoying an icecream a French traveller gave to me. After 110km I hit a wall. My eyelids had felt heavy for a while and I found myself closing them for as long as possible for relief. I couldn’t continue. I pulled over, pushed my bike off the road and found a patch of ground amongst the savannah grass that seemed fairly clear. I put the bike on its stand, rolled up a shirt to use as a pillow, and laid on my bush bed. There were stones and grass stubble sticking into my back but I was so content to be able to rest my eyes properly. I think I slept for about thirty minutes before a passing car woke me up. I willed myself to get back on the bike and pushed on. The snooze had done the trick. I’d watched the sun rise whilst on the bike and after travelling 140km I watched it set. I turned my bike lights on and kept going. Whenever I stopped to fill up my water bottle or have a snack my legs began to seized up. I found pushing the bike before getting back on warmed them up again. Riding in the dark was good. The temperature became pleasant, the headwinds disappeared, and the traffic dropped right off. I stopped thinking and simply rode album to album on my mp3 player. The green distance signs flew past, time went fast. It was getting harder as I went though. My legs were got increasingly exhausted, my butt hurt, and my eyes began to lose focus. I didn’t question the strange sights and sounds of the night. The last 20km were the hardest. I knew I travelled roughly a kilometer for each song I listened to and I couldn’t help counting songs when I hit the 80km sign. During song eight I saw the final green sign; 70km. The sign was located just before a bridge over a creek and I could see a gravel track that led down towards the water. I rolled down the embankment and found a spot on the track that was free from stones. I removed my bike light and shone it on my bike computer. The trip meter showed I had travelled 208km for the day, pedalling for 12 hours and 14 minutes. I was too tired to cook dinner so I ate oats and almonds instead and fell asleep as soon as I laid down. I set my alarm for 7am but a passing truck woke me up around 6:30. It was already light and I didn’t feel too tired so I got up. It was a lot easier packing up in daylight but it was really warm by the time I was on the bike again. Getting to Katherine all went to plan and I met mum in the early evening.

  Katherine is really hot; and only becomes ‘cool’ for a few hour before the sun rises. There’s fully loaded mango trees everywhere but I haven’t found any fruit that is close to being ripe. There are lots of gorges, caves, and swimming spots that we’ll be checking out whilst we’re here before completing the last 310km to Darwin. The final chapter of the trip.

[deadlytreadly]

Gibb River Road

I stocked up on food the day before I departed for on the Gibb. The initial food list I made to get me to the other side totalled 20kgs. After finding out that the roadhouse halfway across the Gibb stocked grocery items I reduced my list to about 15kg worth. It was a massive amount and I wasn’t sure how I would all fit on the bike. In the late afternoon a touring cyclist appeared in the caravan park and parked his bike a few sites down from mine. He came over and introduced himself as Pascal. He had just spent two weeks riding the Gibb from Kununurra. He checked out my bike whilst I asked him questions about his experience. Another cyclist soon appeared. He was a friend of Pascal’s and they had ridden together from Darwin to the Kununurra. We all agreed to go out for a meal. It was a great opportunity to hear about their perspectives and experiences on the Gibb and of lands afar. It was fitting to eat well before setting off on the Gibb. On the morning of leaving I got up at 2:00am and made my way to the empty camp kitchen with my bike, gear, and food. I spent the next few hours cleaning, packing up, and organizing my gear to fit the bike. Along with the water the bike weighed a lot (similar to the feel of the bike when I first started). I consoled myself that it would get lighter as I used up the food and drank the water. I set off at 6:00am and rode until sunset. I managed over 100 kilometers, which was mostly on bitumen.

I turned off the Gibb headed for Windjana Gorge. After riding for a day and a half I saw the limestone cliffs emerge. I started to get excited. I entered the national park and parked my bike near the entrance to the Gorge, the cliffs were truly towering over me. I couldn’t wait to get in. After walking through a narrow opening in the rock I was in the gorge. I started walking and after about five minutes I saw my first wild freshwater crocodiles up close. I watched them for ages, not knowing that there were many more to come. I entered the floor of the gorge, which was made up of beach-like sand. I found heaps of crocs on the water’s edge. I got close enough size up their teeth. They were really docile. I walked to the end of the gorge on the gorge floor and came back on the walking trail. As I walked back I heard big commotion of what I thought to be birds. As I approached I found a massive flock of bats! They caused such a racket but they were really cool to watch. I’ve seen and heard many bats since I’ve been on the road but only as they fly around at night. It was great to see them in this manner. I finished the walk late afternoon and kept riding to find a camp spot. I decided not to use my tent fly anymore. It was too hot, and leaving it off allowed me to stargaze before I slept. The following morning I set off to see Tunnel Creek. Since reaching Derby the temperature seemed to have increased substantially, and I found riding between 12:00 and 2:00pm fairly trying. I approached Tunnel Creek, which had similar overbearing cliffs as Windjana. I climbed down into the cave opening, torch in hand. I walked through the cave, which has various pools along the way, some of which you have to walk through. There were a lot of fish in the pools, which had adapted to low light. About halfway along there was an opening to the outside which let light in, and was used by the local bats used to get into the cave. There were literally hundreds of bats hanging from the ceiling of the cave. It was another awesome opportunity to study them in daylight. The cave darkened again after this point and the water crossings got deeper. The last crossing before the end of the tunnel was about a metre deep. I got back to the same camp spot that night.

  I entered the King Leopold Ranges and the scenery became amazing. About 10 kilometers out from Lennard Gorge a fast driving ranger pulled over to tell me that there were really bad bushfires up ahead and that he’d like to offer me a lift past them. I declined but he insisted that I couldn’t pass without a lift. I reluctantly agreed and we loaded up the bike on the back of his ute and he drove me past the fires. Lennard gorge was completely burnt out, and was still smouldering. The road in was closed. We passed the fires and I was slightly disappointed by what I saw. Although they were quite extensive and some were close to the road they weren’t anywhere near as bad as what I was expecting. I asked to be dropped off and told him I’d probably see him at Bell gorge later, as that is where the rangers were set up. Later in the day I’d stopped at a lookout and met some travellers coming from the opposite direction. We talked about the fires and they told me that Bell Gorge just been closed. I was doubly disappointed and didn’t really know what I’d do with myself as I’d wanted to see both the gorges that were closed. The travellers told me about a swimming hole at an unofficial campground around five kilometers from the lookout. It was really hot so I decided I’d go for a swim and work out what I was going to do afterwards. I was toying with the idea of riding back through the ranges where I’d been transited but I didn’t want to get in trouble with the ranger. After some difficulty I eventually found the water hole. I was glad to see it! I’d never swum in one before and it was a bit unnerving seeing as it was so deep and had palms and foliage growing all along the banks leaving a steep narrow pathway for getting in and out. I plucked up the courage and jumped in. It was awesome! I was never fully relaxed whilst swimming though as it was really deep and the unknown was playing on my mind. After getting out I set up camp. That night I decided I’d double back to where I got picked up; see a couple of lookouts from the bike, have a look at Lennard Gorge if it was reopened, with the possibility of Bell Gorge being open again by the time I got back. It was a great day for cycling and I made good time. It was some of the most amazing scenery I’d ridden through and I didn’t feel burdened by having to double back. Lennard Gorge remained closed so after I’d go back to where I’d been picked up I turned around and rode for Bell Gorge.I stopped off at the waterhole again for a quick swim. I passed the turnoff to Bell Gorge but the blaring yellow sign indicated the road was still closed. I figured I’d ride on the Imitji; a small Aboriginal community and camp near there for the night. There was a free campsite just up from Imitji and I stopped there late in the afternoon to set up. I figured I could ride back to the small Imitji store in the morning; grab some more fresh fruit and veg, and find out about Bell Gorge. The smoke from the fires blanketed the skyline and it became dark very early. In the morning I headed to the store. I managed to stock up on some great fruit and veg and enjoyed coffee and cake. While there a massive offroad tour bus arrived for a break. A lot of the patrons asked me questions about my trip and a nice lady pinched two biscuits from their morning tea table and passed them to me. What a ledge! Bell Gorge remained closed and seemed like it would for be a couple of days. Although disappointed as I’d been told it was amazing I couldn’t wait around for it to reopen so I kept going. I decided to leave the Gibb for Mornington Wildlife Sanctuary run by the not for profit organization; Australian Wildlife Conservancy. After turning off the Gibb I got to the radio hut. It is a requirement to radio the camp before entering. I radioed ahead and explained that I’d be coming in on a pushbike. They said they’d be happy to see me. Sweet! It was 90 kilometers off the Gibb and although the road was decent I didn’t make it until the following morning. It was a really nice cycle with ranges in the distance, lots of cattle, and greenery.

  The main aim of Mornington seems to be to protect and regenerate natural and endangered species and they employ lots of environmental initiatives to accomplish this, as well as conducting a significant amount of research. It’s really great what they’re doing. I spent four days at Mornington to recoup and relax, and check out the gorges, waterholes, and nature walk trails on their land. On my first day I went for a swim in the waterhole close to camp where I was told that there were freshwater crocs residing. I relaxed more in this waterhole than the previous I swam in. I set off on my bike the second day to see Sir John Gorge. I was the only one there and it was serene; it felt very spiritual. I also checked out one of the waterholes on my way back, which had a great rope swing. I caught up with some of the workers that evening and one of them asked the manager on my behalf if I could stay overnight at Dimond Gorge as it was a 23km bike ride to get there. The manager gave the go ahead and the following morning I loaded up the bike with everything I’d need for the day and night. I booked a canoe for the day as the gorge cannot be traversed on foot and also loaded a paddle and life jacket onto the bike. The track to the gorge wasn’t too rough but it was a warm day and there were a few rocky creek crossings on the way. I arrived around lunchtime and hauled my gear down the hill to the canoes. I selected a trusty vessel, chucked my gear up the front and set off. It was so exciting, I couldn’t stop smiling. The gorge is a few kilometers long and I spent the afternoon paddling its length. It’s not something that could be rushed. I pulled the canoe up onto a beach that seemed like an ideal spot to camp around 4:00pm. I had a swim before putting the billy on to brew some tea. The day trippers had long since departed and I was alone in one of the most beautiful places I’d ever seen. I read my paperback into the night and watched the stars and moon come alive. I went to bed early but unfortunately didn’t get much sleep. It happened to be quite a windy night and I was sleeping out in the open so I was bombarded with beach sand for a few hours until it died down to stillness again. I got up at first light and had the canoe in the water as the sun was breaking over the walls of the gorge. I reached a new level of calm as I paddled back.

  The morning I left Mornington did not fare well for the bike. As I was making my way back to the Gibb an aluminium pole I was carrying got caught in my front wheel and bent a couple of spokes. This was closely followed by one of my occy straps getting wrapped around the rear wheel and snapping. Later on I heard something rubbing on my rear tyre. I just glanced back to see what it could be and noticed my left pannier bag swinging into the tyre and grazing the sidewall. I thought to myself that the bag shouldn’t be able to swing that much and I brought the bike to a stop to inspect. There are two tubes connected to the bottom mount of the rack, one of them was completely snapped through. I couldn’t believe it! I pushed my bike to the shade of the nearest tree and set about bracing the rack. I scoured my toolkit for anything I could use to set the broken tube back into position and add enough strength to hold the weight of the pannier bag. I epoxy glued a spare bolt into the tube to hold it roughly in position, ran my spare spokes either side of the tube for bracing, wrapped the broken spot in wire, and fixed a hacksaw blade, and a pair of scissors between the tubes to transfer the stresses to the intact tube and to stiffen it all up. I carry quite a bit of handy stuff in my toolkit but have rarely needed it, however, on this occasion I was glad I had it. It took me a couple of hours but my efforts seemed to be enough to hold the bag again. I took most of the weight off the broken side and it all held together when I rode. It caused me some concern as I still had over half the Gibb to cross and I’d been told the second half was more deteriorated. I winced after every big bump or rock I hit. The rack became a little project for me and I kept an eye out for anything I could use to strengthen it further as I rode the Gibb. I found some broken two way radio arials on the road that had been shaken off cars by the corrugations, which I chucked into the mix. They were light, strong and not bulky as to get caught in the spokes when the rack flexed. After I was happy with the rack I spread the weight out evenly again it seemed to hold together.

  Bell Gorge was still closed due to fires when I reached the Gibb so I headed East again. Adcock Gorge was beautiful. I didn’t swim there but I had a much needed shower under a small waterfall. Galvans Gorge was great. I got there the same time as a tour bus and I got bombarded with questions and requests for photos. After the bus left I jumped in the swimming hole and had a go on the rope swing. I saw my first Aboriginal rock art on gorge wall. I met an awesome couple there who were chilling out and doing some photography. I mentioned that I’d be stocking up with food at Mt Barnett Roadhouse and they offered to give me some of their ‘excess’ food. They explained that they’d bought loads of food onto the Gibb but weren’t staying for as long as they’d expected and would be returning some of the food. I think they were just incredibly kind and generous. When I got to Mt Barnett I leant the bike against a tree and when into the store to stock up on food for the rest of the Gibb. I’d written a list of what I needed and as had previously happened on the trip; they had very little of the basic foods I was after. I had to substitute a lot of foods and I ended up with a haul which seemed like it would last for the rest of the Gibb. The dried and tinned fruit, and lentils I’d received at Galvan’s gorge were even more appreciated at this stage as they’re staples not available at the roadhouse. Manning Gorge was just seven kilometers off the Gibb behind the roadhouse and that is where I headed. There was a lake right next to the camping area and I indulged in a swim after setting up my tent. I shared a meal with the campers next to me that night and the following morning we set off together to the gorge. It was an hour walk to get there; starting by crossing the lake on a cable boat. The walk was great and the gorge was even better. Someone told us there was a secluded swimming area around to the right with cliffs overlooking a pool that you could jump off. We made our way around and set up in the shade. It was a truly beautiful spot. We swam for a while and then swam across to the cliffs to jump. It was crazy high but my pal jumped before me so there was no backing out. I jumped; there was a massive freefall and then I hit the water; with my butt. It wasn’t graceful and hurt bad, but only for a minute. It would be the only jump for the day. We swam and chilled out for the rest of the morning before heading back to the campsite. I was planning to stay at another gorge that night but had I known how cool a spot Manning was; I would’ve stayed an extra night. I filled up my waterbags at the roadhouse. I carried the all that I could; twenty litres. Along with all the food I’d just bought the bike had become very heavy again. I set off for Barnett River Gorge. The road was rough and heavily corrugated. It took me longer than expected to reach the turnoff, by which time it was dark. I had my first stack in a while when I hit a patch of soft sand I didn’t see. When I got to the campsite I was offered a beer. I gladly accepted. I walked to the gorge early the following morning. I enjoyed sitting atop the gorge wall and after climbing down into the gorge I managed a quick swim before walking back again in the heat.

  The road continued to be in poor condition after Leaving Barnett River Gorge and I didn’t manage to do big kilometres that day. I camped in a drainage pit at the end of the day. When I awoke it was a beautiful morning and my 24th birthday. I celebrated with a breakfast power bar birthday cake with peanut paste icing. The wind was going my way for a change, the road improved considerably and I had a really enjoyable day of cycling. There wasn’t anything specific to see long the way, just the usual beautiful scenery and I managed 95 kilometres by the end of the day. The following morning I pulled into Ellenbrae Station. I’d been shown a picture of the scones they serve there before I started the Gibb and I couldn’t wait to order some. The homestead was a little oasis and I enjoyed scones and coffee on the verandah. It was a nice reward after some hard riding. A tree snake entered the verandah whilst I was finishing my coffee. I only realized when I saw the manager coaxing it back into the garden with a stick. I stayed at the campsite there and utilized the bath. I only used cold water and stayed in for a quite a while reading my book. I relaxed for the rest of the day and shared a meal with some other people staying there that night. In the morning they gave me some freshly baked damper before I left. I filled up the waterbags again. It was getting really hot and I was drinking around nine liters a day. I hit roadworks towards the end of the Gibb. It was super dusty; especially when trucks passed. I wanted to get off the bike in the late afternoon but because of the extensive roadworks there were no places to camp. Towards sunset I noticed my back tyre had very little air in it an must of had a puncture. I got off the bike and commenced pushing it. I was really exhausted by that stage. I was lucky in that I only had to push the bike a few hundred meters before I found a big drainage culvert I could camp in. I changed the tube over whilst I was cooking dinner and the bike was good to go for the morning. It was a great place to wake up. I was in the Cockburn Ranges; which resembled large hills topped by a sheer cliff of rock. I didn’t have to go far before I was back on bitumen and whilst completing the last section of the Gibb the odometer clicked over to 5000 kilometers. Reaching this milestone and finishing the Gibb felt like an achievement. I decided to head up to Wyndham to stock up on water and food before taking the backtrack to Kununurra. Before I got to Wyndham it got ridiculously windy. A few kilometers before I arrived a car pulled over in front of me and a big bloke stepped out and walked towards me. He introduced himself and we had a chat before he offered to buy me a beer at his local community club. It was a nice gesture and I told him I’d meet him there after I’d got my food and water. I was exhausted by the time I got to town. I met some people on the road and they gave me directions to the store. I heard my first news in weeks from these people who spoke of the new prime minister; elected weeks ago. They introduced me to some kids on bikes, the ‘Wyndham Boys’ and their parents let them help me fill up my waterbags at their place. I bought food that I’d been missing out on; bananas, oranges, dried fruit, oats, and lentils and made my way to the community club. I met the man that had pulled over on the side of the road and he introduced me to all of his pals. He offered to buy me dinner there too but It was fairly late in the afternoon and I still had to make my way to the backtrack and find a camp spot. He was an extremely kind soul. I’d only been in Wyndham a few hours but in that time I met some really nice people. I set off on the backtrack the following morning. It was unsealed and rougher than what I had expected. I was absolutely filthy, covered in layers of dust, sunscreen, and sweat. There are a few swimming spots towards the end of the backtrack, which is what I wanted to check out. It was really hot but I pushed through it and by about 1:00pm I got to Black Rock Falls. I walked down to the falls but it was really dry, stagnant, and there was no water falling from the wall of rock above. I was really disappointed. I met a car when I was leaving and the driver told me that the other two swimming spots nearby were also dry. I decided then to make my way to Kununurra a day early. I rode to the Ord River crossing. There are salt water crocs in the Ord and warnings were posted before I arrived. I was slightly worried. I couldn’t believe what I saw when I arrived at the crossing. The water was cascading over the road and a mother was swimming in the torrents with her young kids. I was hanging out for a swim so I abandoned my hasty plans to get to Kununurra and changed into my swimming shorts. I almost slipped over as I walked out to the deep section as there was a thin layer of algae on the road and the current was really strong. I made it to the lady and said hello. I asked if she was afraid of crocodiles. She said they were on the high side of the crossing but they didn’t like the strong currents and wouldn’t come onto the road. The explanation suited me and I sank into the water. It was like being in a spa but with crocodiles lurking behind the jets of water, and a risk of being swept over rocks if contact was lost with the bottom. After my swim I walked to the other side of the crossing. There was an island in the middle and a longer/deeper crossing on the other side. It was blocked off to cars by bollards and I thought it’d be pretty risky to walk the bike over due to the currents and slipperiness of the road. It was difficult enough walking it. I had another swim and decided to make camp near the crossing and head to Kununnurra in the morning. I packed up early the following morning and turned down another road which led to the highway to Kununnurra as I didn’t want to risk the crossing with my bike. I got rained on on the way; only the third time over the whole trip. The ride in was beautiful, it’s a really scenic place; surrounded by water and hills. I spent  three weeks on the Gibb and another few days getting to Kununurra. It was an awesome part of the trip but I was glad to arrive in Kununurra where I could have a proper shower, wash my filthy clothes, and put my feet up for a few days.

[deadlytreadly]

Derby

After leaving One Arm Point I called into Beagle Bay to check out a church I’d been told about. The church was built around 100 years ago and incorporates local pearl shell into the walls, floor and alter. It was mother of pearl mania!! As I was leaving town a wandering Jack Russell spotted me and decided I was bad news. It started chasing me, barking, and getting close to my ankles. Two other dogs decided to join in and I had to ride quickly to stay ahead of them as I was chased out of town. My heart was pounding by the time they gave up the chase. I made it to the Colourstone track and pulled off to camp about a kilometer in. The start of the Colourstone was fantastic. It was unsealed pindan but it was hard and smooth. After a few kilometers that soon changed into a variety of corrugations, soft sand, and deep wheel ruts. The track was only wide enough to accommodate one car and had was bordered by scrub. A car passed me in the late morning, the only one I saw all day. The track continued to degrade and although the sand at the bottom of the deep wheel ruts was just hard enough to ride on, it was hard to control the bike and if I wobbled and hit the side of the rut I was forced to stop, straiten the wheels and start again. I was also finding myself pushing the bike in the really soft sections. By 1:30pm I’d managed thirteen kilometers. I did some quick calculations and realised that I wouldn’t finish the 132 kilometer track with the amount of water I was carrying. The lack of cars on the track also increased the risks of a bad situation eventuating. I decided to turn back and head to the highway the same way I’d come up; along the Cape Leveque Road. By 4:00pm I’d made it back to where I started. I rode for another hour and got off the bitumen and back onto the sandy pindan. I met a bloke who was broken down on the side of the road and he said I was the first person that’d stopped for him. I didn’t have the tool that he needed to fix the problem but I think he seemed happy enough that someone had stopped at all. He handed me a can of cool drink, I was fairly nackered by that stage and it went down a treat. He told me of some bad bush fires that were jumping the road a bit further up but it sounded way further than where I'd get to by the day’s end. The sand on the Cape Leveque Road was great to ride on after the joys of the Colourstone. It seemed a lot easier the second time around, but the bumpy bits still felt like I was riding over the back of a tortise shell. After a full day’s riding I’d managed thirty seven kilometers. The following morning I passed the fires that I’d been warned about. They weren’t too bad at the roads edge but I could hear a fierce roaring maybe 50-100 meters into the bush. No one seemed to be doing anything about it. I met some travellers later in the day who couldn’t pass the road as the flames were jumping across to the other side again. Towards the end of the day a massive truck pulled up alongside me, the bloke driving wound down the window, reached down to grab something on the passenger seat and came back up holding a chilled two litre bottle of cool drink. He handed it down to me and with a smile said; ‘have this, you’ve earned it’. I had to explain that I couldn’t carry the whole bottle on the bike but I poured a bit into my water bottle and thanked him. He said he’d seen me a couple of weeks earlier riding up to Cape Leveque and thought I was doing a great job. I set off early the following morning; I had about 30 kilometers of sand to cross before I hit bitumen again. Not too long after I’d been riding I car pulled over next to me. It was a family heading up to Cape Leveque. They said they’d seen me the previous day. They offered me oranges out the window and said they had chilled water and coffee in the back. I would have loved a coffee but there were other cars approaching in the distance so I couldn’t muck around. I was pretty happy with getting the oranges though as I figured I’d probably run out of fresh fruit as I approached Derby. When I got back to the highway I saw a sign say 212 kilometers to Derby; and I got a sinking feeling in my stomach. I started cursing my map as I thought it indicated that there was only 145 kilometers. I knew it would be a big day. When I got to a roadhouse I checked my map; I’d missed a section of road out in my calculations. There was a designated rest area about 70 kilometers from the roadhouse and I decided I’d aim for that. I had the wind behind me and was in a good mood for cycling. I pushed hard for the afternoon. By sunset I knew I wouldn’t have too far to go but I’d been cycling for about seven hours and my feet and back were aching. After another hour I saw the lights of the caravans in the rest stop. I rolled in and checked my odometer under the faint light. It was my biggest day yet; 140 kilometers. I was really glad to get off the bike.

When I was at One Arm Point a neighbour told me of a great little lake 20km out of Derby which was like an unofficial bird sanctuary and would probably make a good camping spot. It was another 95km from the rest stop so I was glad I’d pushed hard the previous day and would only need to spend five or six hours on the bike the following day. As I was packing up my tent in the morning a young guy from the Netherlands walked over holding a banana and a yoghurt. As he got close he held up the food and said ‘breakfast!’. He said he’d seen me get in after dark and was thinking about how all the people with caravans had fridges and eskys and I could only carry non-perishable food on the bike. I thanked him and had a chat about his travelling in Australia then finished packing up the bike and got on the road. The landscape seemed to change whilst I was riding, most noticeably that Boabs started to appear. There was more water around, it seemed to get muggier, and as I was passing over a creek on a single lane bridge I saw my first wild crocodiles sunning themselves in the water. I made it to the lake by early afternoon and set up my tent near the water in the shade of some paperbarks and started to prepare my dinner. It was a great spot. The mosquitoes came out in droves when it got dark so I jumped into my tent to eat. It was still really warm and there was no wind so I started to sweat. Whilst I was eating my soup I heard a sound that sent chills down my spine. The bark of a crocodile. I stopped what I was doing and took in all the sounds coming from the lake. I can’t specifically describe what a crocodile sounds like but once you hear one you know what it is. There was also a lot of splashing in the water, and birds were periodically getting spooked. I decided that maybe setting up my tent so close to the water wasn’t such a good idea. I continued to stress as I finished my dinner. I stuck my head out of my tent and under the small gap between the fly and the ground, and shone my torch out on the water to see if I could spot a crocodile. I saw a pair of glowing eyes reflected back at me. I thought about getting out of my tent among the hordes of mosquitoes, removing all my gear from the tent, and relocating further away from the water, but it would take a while and I didn’t want to draw any more attention to myself than I already had. The lake remained noisy and I kept running through a scenario in my mind where the crocodile would walk up to the door of my tent ready to attack, and with my exit being blocked, I would have to cut a hole in the other side of my tent and leg it into the bush. I got my knife out and put it into position should the scenario unfold. I couldn’t sleep and tried to keep busy until I decided on what I would do. I eventually got out and scouted around with my torch to see how close the croc was. I could see the eyes if the croc I’d seen previously; however, it was now clear that it was on the other side of the lake. I resided back to my tent, somewhat satisfied that I wasn’t in any immediate danger. I caught a few hours’ sleep and when I woke around dawn I had a look for the infamous croc but it had moved on. I was happy to be alive. I enjoyed a cup of tea in the scenic spot then packed up my tent and got on the road for the last leg to Derby. I stopped at the Prison Boab Tree, which was impressive, before hitting town. It took me back to the first day of my ride where I started from the Boab planted at Kings Park. After arriving in Derby and checking into the caravan park I headed down to the jetty to catch the sunset and eat my dinner. It seemed like everyone else had the same idea; it was a great atmosphere. I’ve spent my time in Derby relaxing, preparing the bike and gear for the next leg, catching sunsets down at the jetty, and enjoying salads and other foods I’m not able to carry on the bike.

I’ll be tackling the Gibb River Road next, a scenic, and infamously rough 700 kilometer stretch that will take me to many water holes, gorges and waterfalls, before getting to Kununurra. I’m planning to take my time so I can enjoy all the special spots. There will be little to no mobile reception, one roadhouse halfway across, and I’ll have to get most of my water from the water holes I encounter. It’s really heating up now, which may make this section harder than it already would be but I’m really excited to get out there. It’s time to get wild in the heart of the Kimberley!

[deadlytreadly]

Cape Leveque

Before I set off from Broome I posted some excess gear home. It included most of my warm clothes, my backpack, and everything else I decided I wouldn’t need going forth. My bike instantly shed seven kilos. Cape Leveque Road started off as bitumen but soon changed to the sandy Pindan I’d been warned about. The makeup of the road was basically a layer of soft, beach like sand over the substrate of ochre red Pindan, similar to bumpy concrete. I’d never ridden on this type of material and within minutes of entering it I’d fallen over, bogged the bike numerous times and found myself pushing the bike on foot. I had concerns that I wouldn’t make it to James Price Point 35 kilometers away, nor One Arm Point with around 140km of sandy Pindan to be crossed before hitting the bitumen again. The rideability constantly changes whereby; if you can find the hard pindan then, although bumpy, it will be rideable, but if the soft sand is too deep over the pindan then the tyres will dig in, and all speed is lost in a few seconds. If it’s just a patch of soft sand then you might make it to the other side, if not it’s a case of putting your feet down quickly or falling. Steering is also very slow in the sand. To steer you have to turn the handlebars and hold them in that position until the bike changes direction but turn too sharply and the front tyres dig in and the bike slews wildly requiring over-corrections or picking yourself up off the ground. I had to quickly adapt my riding style to the road if I had any chance of getting to where I wanted to go. I changed into my joggers instead of my cleated bike shoes as I needed to put my feet down constantly. I lowered my seat to find better balance and to make it easier to recover when my bike bucked, and I let my tyres down. Then I let them down again. Frustrations in the soft sand left me letting the tyres down three more times until they were at their limit. It allowed me to ride over much more than what I could at the start but riding at such low pressures increased the risk of getting a puncture through pinching the tube against the rim.

I made it to Barred Creek by nightfall, about halfway to James price Point, and set up camp overlooking the creek. I had to push my bike the last few hundred meters. The tide was way out in the morning exposing the creek floor and leaving pools of water everywhere. I expected to see crocodiles but there were none around. The midgies and sand flies marauded me whilst I got changed into my riding clothes. It was already pretty hot by the time I left. I got a puncture in my rear tyre just out of Barred Creek, the first on my trip. It wasn’t easy to fix with the fully loaded bike especially in the soft sand but I was gifted with shade while I did it. I made it to the James Price Point protest camp later in the afternoon. I met the caretaker of the site which was the only person staying there at the time. The protesters moved on after Woodside announced that there would be no further development at James Price Point so the empty camp simply remains as a snapshop of a very different time. The caretaker was a cooky guy who invited me to sit down for a cup of tea and said I was welcome to set up my tent in the camp. I was told that the beach on the other side of the dune that rested on the camp’s edge was better for swimming than James Price Point a few kilometers further on. I was pretty knackered by that stage and had been thinking about going for a swim all day so I decided to set up in the camp and check out JPP the following day. Before I headed to the beach two other travelers arrived at the camp and also decided to stay as well. We all went down to the beach together for a swim and to watch the sunset. I’d been hanging out for it all day and it was everything I wanted it to be. When it got dark we headed back to camp to cook dinner (chocolate chilli) and play cards into the night. We spent the following morning at the beach swimming and reading and I took the time to walk down to James Price Point. It seems ridiculous that it would be ruined for a gas hub. There would be plenty of other areas that are better suited. In the afternoon we got word of a beached whale at Quondong Point, about 10km south of where we were. I went with the other travelers to check it out. It was astonishing when we climbed over the rocks and caught sight of it. It was a profound experience seeing something so big and majestic dead and being pounded by the waves. That afternoon I read my book and watched another sunset at the protest camp beach, it’s such a good location. I decided to leave for One Arm Point the following morning. I wasn’t returning to Broome as planned as I could fill up my waterbags at the camp and I figured I’d have enough food to get up there. I got back to the Cape Leveque Road after the first day. I tried to ride at night but it was very difficult as my bike light wouldn’t throw enough light out onto the road to show the line to take in order to stay on the hardest material. I pulled off into a road run-off drain and as soon as I was off the bike I found myself getting attacked by a horde of mosquitoes. They were the worst I’d seen in terms of numbers and persistence, and although clothes covered 99 per cent of my body I still managed to bit. I set about cooking my dinner straight after setting my tent so I wouldn’t have to get back out once I was in. When I entered my tent to eat I was faced by about thirty mosquitoes that I had to eliminate before I could relax. It was like a miniature massacre. I got back on the road by about 9am, with my lunch and dinner already cooked. It was already pretty hot by this stage. I enjoyed the ride, and the concentration required to ride these roads meant I was never bored. Towards the end of the day the road got really bumpy. When I heard a couple of strange noises I decided to stop to have a look. I found one of my rear pannier bag's support brackets had half fallen off, which caused the bag move and hit spokes of the wheel. It was lucky nothing was broken. After unloading the bike I found the fixings and set about remounting the bag on its bracket. I distributed most of the weight around to the other bags as a precaution and rode until it was dark. Three cars pulled over to ask me how I was going for water, and two of them offered me a lift to the bitumen. I kindly declined and decided to set up camp instead.

  The late starts and issues with the bike had left me about 20kms from where I wanted to be. I got up well before dawn and set off before 7am, while it was still cool. I had 30 kilometres of sand and 90 kilometres of bitumen before I reached One Arm Point. I’d never ridden as far in a day previously, however, it was my earliest start ever and the bike was light as I’d worked through my food and water. By 10am I’d reached the bitumen. I pumped up my tyres, raised my seat, and changed my shoes. I managed a good pace on the bitumen and arrived in One Arm Point to the clapping from my childhood friends and a few of their buddies. It was awesome and it did feel like an achievement. My odometer showed 133km for the day, my biggest ride in a single day ever!

I’ve been in One Arm Point for the last week staying with my friends. It’s an awesome place and it feels wild. The coastline here is beautiful wherever you look, especially as the sun is setting. I’ve spent my time here relaxing, snorkelling, swimming, exploring, and crabbing with traditional spears. I’ve seen locals cook hunted turtle in their Baali’s (traditional family-owned beach shelters), and watched bull sharks swim in the same place I’ve snorkelled. Sleeping in a bed and enjoying the food I’ve dreamt about on the bike has been a welcome change to the life on the road and I’m truly grateful to have been able to stay here. After leaving One Arm Point I’ll be travelling to Derby via the Colourstone road, the backtrack to the highway. It will be fairly remote but it should be equally beautiful. With a bit of luck I might see a crocodile.

[deadlytreadly]

Broome

I left the safety and comfort of Karratha to get back on the road, heading for the Kimberley. It took me three days to cycle from Karratha to Hedland. There were more trucks on the road in this section than any other type of vehicle. They were mainly long or oversize mining trucks carrying ore, plant, and supplies. There was already fairy gusty winds pushing me around and that coupled with the cacophony of engine noise, rattling, and vibrations from the trucks when they passed close-by, around 100km/hr quicker than me certainly got the heart racing. The trucks punch through the air and create their own wind. When the wind hit me it was so powerful and direct, it felt similar to having a wave crashing over me in the sea. Given the headwinds I welcomed the trucks heading the same way as me, I surfed their wind. I got dumped by trucks heading West. In this stretch I met a couple that are running a marathon every day to get around Australia in one year. They are raising awareness for healthy eating and lifestyle, and are raw-vegans themselves. Inspiring stuff! I subsequently met a nice Canadian guy riding the whole way round Aus. He had very minimal gear and was traversing 200-300km per day. My bike looked ridiculous in comparison. I have taken inspiration from him to reduce my own belongings to get somewhat closer to the bare minimum, and will be posting more stuff home before leaving Broome. I stopped in South Hedland for lunch and to fill up my waterbags. The town seemed to have some issues. I had a major gripe because they’ve removed the handles from all of the publicly accessible water taps. I don’t know what they’re trying to achieve by removing the handles. I think the water belongs to the people and I can’t see the good in denying access to this service. I wasn’t pleased when I tried to fill up for the first stage of the 600km leg to Broome. I generally camped out in water runoff drains or in the open areas made for accessing rail and telecommunications infrastructure. The temperature seemed to increase daily as I rode and mirages seemed to appear more commonly. I loved the desert look of the raised ground above the plains melting into the surrounds like a popsicle dropped on the pavement. On my first day past Hedland I met some travellers broken down on the side of the road. I lent them my tools but they weren’t substantial enough to solve the problem. I did however manage to open a can of braised steak and onions for them so I guess that counts as a small contribution to aid their plight. Pardoo roadhouse was my first destination, around 140km from Hedland. I thought it would be an easy 'day and a half' ride but super strong headwinds made for long days of cycling. On the end of the second day from leaving Hedland I’d only just got to Pardoo roadhouse with about 50km on the daily odometer. The wind dropped off in the afternoon and I decided the only way I was going to be able to get to Broom in a reasonable timeframe (and without running out of water!) would be to start up the night riding again. I left Pardoo in the dark, however by that stage there was very little traffic on the roads. The stars were amazing, the air was cool, there was no wind, and I was riding fast. It was good. I managed 111km by the end of my first big night ride. I was glad to get to Sandfire Roadhouse a couple of days later, where I met quite a few of the travellers that were passing me. I generally judge roadhouses on the exotic birds they keep. Sandfire Roadhouse has peacocks. It was awesome!!

  The next stretch was about 300km and took me to Roebuck Roadhouse, just out of Broome. There is very little in between. My left headphone stopped working after I set off from Sandfire, which caused some anxiety but the right held in for the journey. I hit my 3000km on this section and whilst celebrating on the roadside (yelling) someone pulled over as they thought I looked like I was in a state of emergency. A couple of days out of Broome I started to notice the trees change and there seemed to be butterflies everywhere. I make little goals at the start of each day and the goal a day out of Broome was to get an ice pop from Roebuck Roadhouse by the days end. I got it! After filling up my depleted waterbags at the roadhouse I found a nice drain about 30km from Broome to set up the tent in. It would be my last drain-camp for a little while. Nine headwind riddled days after leaving Karratha I gladly arrived in Broome. My first task after arriving was to wash my filthy clothes and have a shower to get rid of the red grime hat was ingrained into my skin. After that I headed down to Cable Beach for a drink and some deluxe food for dinner at sunset.

  Whist at the beach I met some cool travellers from France, Britain, and Japan and we had some drinks and food together. We spent the next day at the beach where we swam, ate, and saw a lot of sun. I love Broome. It has really good tropical vibes. I’ve spent most of my time here relaxing. One night I went to a bohemian beach party that was hidden behind some dunes. There was DJ decks, lights, a fire, awesome food, and fire twirling. Someone taught me Poi (spinning balls of fire suspended on short chains), which was great until I got over-confident and one of the flaming balls hit me in the chest. I passed them on shortly after.

  From Broome I’ll be heading up to James Price Point, and One Arm Point north of Broome. I’ve loved the Kimberley so far and I can’t wait to see more!

[deadlytreadly]

Karratha

I’ve been hanging out with some family for the last week in Karratha. It’s a big mining town with lots of big machinery and infrastructure in the area and high vis is everywhere. I’ve enjoyed a week off the bike. Beds, couches, showers, and home-cooked meals are great. It’s been awesome hanging out with my nieces and nephews; watching movies together, checking out red dog, and going fishing amongst the mangroves. One of the highlights was the disco party I had with the kids after finishing the last hole in glow in the dark minigolf! Whilst exploring the historical town of Cossack I got a chance to see some awesome paintings that were part of the Cossack Art Awards happening at the moment. There’s some great talent in the Pilbara and surrounding areas. The Roebourne Cup provided me with my first experience of the races. It was a great day out and the fierce bouts of two-up after the races finished provided quite a spectacle.

  I’ve had a chance to get the bike back up to scratch including replacing my two month old chain that was stretched to the point of ruin by the time I’d got to Karratha, probably because of all the weight the bike has had to carry. The next stage of the trip will take me to the Kimberley. There’ll be a few days of riding to get to Port Headland and I’ll be pushing on to Broome after that. There’s only one road between Port Headland and Broome so I’ll be sharing the bitumen with everyone else that is heading up that way. There’s very little on that 600km stretch apart from a few roadhouses and stations. I’ve dreaded this section since I first started planning the trip and my expectations are still fairly low, however, I’m excited about where I’ll be ending up. I’m calling on the wind gods to be kind on this leg. Bring on the Kimberley!!

[deadlytreadly]

Mt Augustus, Tom Price, Karijini, and Millstream

After leaving Wooleen I passed through the Shire of Murchison and called into the roadhouse to buy some snacks. I met the owner there who told me his grand plans of getting rich through developing a sail that attaches to the front of a bicycle. I liked his thinking. I bought a chocolate bar, a packet of liquorice, a slice of fruitcake, and two bananas. Everything I’d bought was gone but a banana by the time I’d left the bitumen; about 500 meters down the road. I was aiming for Bilung pool where I planned to stay and fill my waterbags. While riding I was hailed down by a 4wd driven by some travellers. They offered me a cold coke, some water, and finally a cold beer in that order, however, I still had quite a bit of riding to do and my waterbags were full so I declined all three. It set me in a great mood though. I felt the need to cover some distance so I would have some free time the following afternoon to rest at Bilung so when it got dark I chucked on my trackies and jacket and pushed on into the night. I managed to cover 95 kilometers before I stopped to make camp. I woke up to a steady headwind. It slowed me down considerably and made the cycling really difficult. I attempted my first of many creek crossings, which was the highlight of the day, however whenever I needed to stop I got attacked by mosquitoes and midgies that hammered any part of skin not covered by my clothes. In the afternoon it started to rain, and with the persistent headwind I didn’t get to Bilung until sunset. The mosquito attack whilst I set up my tent was intense. After I jumped into my tent I decided that there was no way I was getting back out amongst the rain and mosquitoes to cook my soup so I ate a raw carrot instead. It rained all of the following day I decided to have a rest day in my tent. When I awoke the following morning it was a clear sky and the wind was going my way for a change. I filled my waterbags from the murky water of the pool and set off. Sometime around lunch I was hailed down by another 4wd which overtook me. The people that stopped were a couple that were similarly heading to Mt Augustus and they informed me that the recent rains were a lot more severe north of where we were and that most of the roads were closed. We couldn’t find the road I would be taking on the road closure sheet they had but they urged me to chance it anyway. Before they left they offered me a piece of fruit. I was getting low so I kindly accepted. I ended up with two apples and two oranges. I was stoked!

  I made it to Dalgety Downs Road and it seemed ok, apart from some really soft wash outs that made me stack hard before I learnt how to approach them. The following day presented a cruel headwind and although I had entered the ranges and was cycling in stunning country I found it really hard to enjoy. I decided there were only two types of weather experienced when cycling; fair weather and unfair weather. Although I’d set off at 9:00am, I had only managed 50 kilometers by the time the sun was setting. If the wind was doing the same thing the following day it could take me an extra day to get to Mt Augustus; especially as the small community store at Burringurrah Aboriginal Community (the only store I would pass before Tom Price – in another 10 or so days) only operates a handful of hours so if I missed it I’d have to hang around for annother day. I decided to chuck on my warm clothes and pushed on into the night. The wind died down and the stars came alive. Apart from being exhausted it was a beautiful ride, I felt tiny under the stars. I stopped when I couldn’t ride any further and set up my tent. I wasn’t sure how far I’d got so I had a look at my bike computer before I got into bed. The time was 11:30pm so after setting off over thirteen hours ago I’d managed to ride 90 kilometers. The roaring headwind the following morning told me I’d made the right decision to press on and after a few ks' I got to the end of the road and was heading North again so the wind didn’t give me too much grief. As I got closer to Mt Augustus I noticed a lot more of the water I’d been told about, and some sections were super muddy. I got to the outskirts of Burringurrah by nightfall and the following morning I ambushed the store as soon as it opened. When I entered the store I was asked what I was after; I replied ‘A bit of fresh fruit and veg’. The storeperson said ‘we don’t have any of that here’. I traipsed around the small store which didn’t have a logical set out and made up my stores with dried, tinned, and alternative foods to what I had  on my list, however, I was happy enough with what I’d managed to find. Throughout the day the wind turned to a tailwind and I was pushed into Mt Augustus; at one point I was cruising at 22km/hr up a corrugated hill with a smile on my face.

  Mt Augustus is the biggest rock in the world and the caravan park basically sits at the bottom of it. After being on the road for eight days I was pretty desperate for a shower and was glad to have the other facilities that a caravan park offers at hand. The view from my tent was amazing (minus the 44gal drum). I met up with a couple of travellers that I’d met at Wooleen and we climbed to the summit of Mt Augustus together the following day. They also cooked for me that night and left some biscuits and a tin of rice cream for me before they left. I had offers of food by other patrons of the caravan park before I left and ended up with a small bounty of food that couldn’t be bought in the surrounding area. Whilst at Mt Augustus I picked up some sort of stomach bug and decided to fast until I felt better. When I tried to leave I had some serious words dropped on me by the national park volunteers and caravan park managers however I felt like it was time to leave so I backed myself and set off. After not eating for two days I could hardly pedal the bike but I managed 33 kilometres with an average speed of 8.5 km/hr (slow!). The following morning I felt better and ate some apple and donated crackers and biscuits for breakfast. Before long I hit the l Dooley Downs Station where I met a group of cattle musterers. The five people there all stopped what they were doing so they could sit down to have a cuppa and a biscuit with me. It was great! The section between Mt Augustus and Tom Price was a really tough as I was on a rough 4wd track with constant hills, corrugations, floodways and headwinds and I didn’t see a soul for days. I was joined by cattle, kangaroos, bald eagles, snakes, and dingoes. The rewards were in the scenery with mesmerising geological formations that changed around every bend, and the ranges of flat topped hills blanketed in spinifex. I managed to find some potable water in a small pool when I was down to about 1 litre and started to see cars when I got closer to Tom Price. My mum and brother were driving a campervan to Tom Price and meeting up with them was all I could think about (especially the food we would be eating together). I hit the bitumen five days out from Mt Augustus and had to share the road with heavy traffic again. The amount of mining supplies and equipment passing on truck was amazing. As I knew I’d be hitting Tom Price soon I increased my food intake and I basically arrived with no food or water, but I had regained my strength completely. After seven days out from Mt Augustus I arrived in Tom Price.

  My fam got in to Tom Price soon after I arrived and I was over the moon just to see them. We treated ourselves to sunset drinks and had a sausage sizzle for dinner. It was deluxe. We went nuts in the supermarket the next day and headed towards Karijini the following morning. That night we camped on the outskirts of the national park and I had my first campfire on the trip. I’d wanted to go to Karijini for years and once there we spent time exploring the amazing gorges, swimming in the freezing pools, and relaxing. After parting ways at Munjina Gorge, east of Karijini, I headed through the spooky town of Wittenoom that still has five resistant residents before heading north towards Millstream. The dirt road was super bumpy and dusty, especially when being passed by road trains, but the oasis of Millstream made it worthwhile. After taking a couple of days off at Millstream I jumped on a massive tailwind which pushed me to Karratha where I’ll be hanging out with some family for a little while.

  Although it has been incredibly tough at times with the roads, weather conditions, being unwell, minimal food, water and inhabitants, and being disconnected from the world, I’ve discovered beauty in the remote Australian outback I’ve travelled through and I feel truly privileged to have been able to experience it. I’m also inspired by the generosity and good will of the people I’ve met in my travels.

[deadlytreadly]

Wooleen

I left Mullewa after posting over two kilos of stuff home, which I found I didn’t really need. I was traveling up the Carnarvon Mullewa Road and my legs felt renewed. There's a mine site about 50km out of town that extract their ore and truck it out past Mullewa. The trucks were huge! They carried four fully loaded trailers on the back. It was crazy when they passed but they were good drivers and there weren't any issues. The weight of the trucks changed the originally flat roads to ripples. I saw sheep, goats, cows, emus and kangaroos along this stretch. 

After passing the turnoff to the mine site the road turned to gravel but it had been graded recently and was in good condition. I rode into the night. After crossing the boundary into Wandina Station I swear I heard a dog’s bark, which was strange as the homestead was kilometres away. I had been told previously that the wild dogs up north were a problem and could kill entire herds of sheep in one night. I quickly searched for my pocket knife in my handlebar bag but it was dark and I couldn’t find it. At that stage I decided to camp and pulled off into a little clearing in the scrub. It was cold and I was so exhausted that once I was in my tent I couldn’t be bothered getting out again to cook dinner. I ate an apple and some oats. The following day only three vehicles passed me; a caravan, a 4wd and a truck hauling cattle. I found out later that the cattle were coming from Wooleen Station. I set up camp on a hill  and managed to watch a great sunset. The stars and moon came out and were bright enough to cook under without needing to use my torch. I ate as much as my pot could hold. It was my favourite campsite yet.

As soon as I jumped on the road the following morning four cars passed, all travellers. One stopped for a chat as I was adjusting one of my bags. I didn’t see any more cars for the rest of the day. There had been recent rains in the area which were greatly welcomed and I noticed a myriad of livestock tracks surrounding the roadside puddles. It was a good ride apart from ripping a cleat straight out of my shoe, which took some time to repair. I got into Wooleen station in the early afternoon and met the owners and station employees working for the season. I was shown a quaint old donga that I’d be staying in whilst I volunteered. I was looking forward to the bed, doona, and hot shower.

I’ve been on Wooleen for just under a week and in that time I’ve assisted in the running of the station by dismantling unused sheep fences, removing and repairing stockyard gates, gathering fire wood, and servicing work vehicles, among other homestead duties. I’ve found it really interesting to experience life on an operating station, and especially at Wooleen where they are employing alternative management strategies to ensure the station can remain environmentally sustainable. My favourite part has been sunset drinks after a hard day’s work at one of the stunning locations on the property. I’m back on the bike today and will be spending the next five or six days getting to Mt Augustus. It’s going to get really remote as it will take around two weeks to get to the next town – Tom Price, and mobile reception is non-existent in the area. Adventure time!

[deadlytreadly]

Perth to Mullewa

Getting to the starting point was super stressful as the bike took way longer to load than expected plus Transperth had unexpectedly cancelled train services between Mandurah and Rockingham so I became stranded and inevitably late. After some help I arrived in Kings Park ready to go. Thanks to everyone that came down to help me start the journey, it was awesome!

As I was starting later than expected I had to rush to get to my first campsite in Yanchep National Park. It was the first time I’d ridden the bike fully loaded and it took some getting used to. Especially when the cycle paths ended and I had to ride on the road alongside cars. I got in around sundown but couldn’t manage to find the ‘bush camping’ area as indicated by the symbol on my map so I found a nice hidden spot near the golf course. I set up the tent incorrectly three times as it was dark, and similarly the first time I’d tried to assemble it. I settled in for a cold night. I decided to spend the following day at Yanchep reorganising my gear and grabbing a few extra hours of sleep as I was still pretty exhausted from the day before.

After recharging the batteries I set off to Ledge Point as my friend has a holiday house there and said I could stay there a night if I wanted to. It was a fantastic day for cycling and I was happy to set off. I had a late start as I was still getting used to packing up everything efficiently (whilst trying to avoid being seen by the NP gardener mowing some lawn nearby my camp). I stopped at Moore River for lunch and met some nice people there. One guy was completely loving what I was doing and told me that when he was around my age he’d kitesurfed from Perth to Geraldton in four days carrying provisions in a backpack. Gnarly!! I got to the holiday house and was glad to have a warm bed for the night as it’d been pretty cold in the tent. The electric kettle was a novelty too.

The next two days of coastal cycling  were excellent  as the landscape switched between green pastures, coastal scrub and sand dunes. One night I slept in a drainage culvert beside the road and another was spent in a sea of sand dunes after becoming a bit lost at night. I was pretty used to the traffic, which consisted mainly of cars towing caravans and boats, and I was lucky enough to meet a couple of touring cyclists along the way. One bloke was riding from Darwin to Perth! It’s pretty much the same trip as mine but in reverse, so I spent ages picking his brain about his experiences and how he’d gone living on the road. I had my first stack as I forgot to grab my helmet when I left in the morning and did a u-turn on the road to go pick it up. Towards the conclusion of the u-turn I lost speed, lost balance and forgot to unclip from my pedals. I went over sideways on the bitumen but the panniers took most of the fall. All because I forgot to put my helmet on!

  After Leeman I headed inland to Eneabba. I found a honey farm on the way and I witnessed another amazing sunset.

  After Eneabba I started to head north on backroads towards Mingenew. I was loving this country, which changed between scrubby nature reserves and rolling green pastures. I saw my first reptiles on the trip – three bobtails, I learnt the joys of soft corrugated gravel roads, and I got to stay on a lovely farm.

  The next day I had a feast in Mingenew (great bakery) and made my way to Coalseam Conservation Park. It was one of my bigger days; 85km, but it was all enjoyable. I met some horses that galloped alongside the road to keep up with me and when I got to the end of their paddock they let me feed them over the fence. I felt like a cowboy. The views and scenery at the CP were well worth the diversion. When the stars came out they were the brightest I’d ever seen. It was unreal.

I was heading to Mullewa and planned to have a break as my legs were absolutely spent and my butt hurt. All that stood in my way were massive hills, headwinds, and rack/mudguard issues. The scenery was still amazing but it was hard to enjoy it when I was so exhausted. I got to visit some abandoned town halls on the way which was cool/spooky. Such a shame, they were beautiful buildings. Mullewa is a sleepy little town and I’ve been resting and eating (a lot) here for the last few days. The rest has been great but I’ve got itchy feet again so I’m jumping back on the bike today to head to Wooleen Station where I’ll be volunteering for a week or two on one of their ongoing projects before heading northwest to Karrijini. For every day that I’ve spent on the road I could easily say it has been the best day of cycling of my life, maybe with the exception of the stresses of leaving Perth, and struggling into Mullewa. It’s going to get a lot more rugged now as I move into the Gascoyne/Pilbara regions but I can’t wait to get out there.