Perth to Airlie Beach Ride Report – 29 Sep 10

From: Wongawol To: Geraldton Bore Via:Mingol Camp, Carnegie Station
Distanced Travelled: 340km
Drop Count: no drops

Day’s Experience:
So everyone was up and ready to go early. After breakfast Adrian did some bike maintenance on my bike (top up the oil) we started riding at 7.30am.

Mingol Camp was our first stop at 53km where we saw a small billabong then it was off to Carnegie Station. The station sits on 1 million arces and has 2000 cattle and is the most western station before hitting the Gibson Desert. The road into Carnegie was a straight red dusted road that was nice and flat made for easy riding. We were able to fuel up, water up, wash our faces. I looked into their sheds and saw 3 new Honda trailbikes lined up and it brought tears of joy. I noticed that they were CRF230F’s (the unregistered version of my bike). Apparently these bikes are very popular on cattle stations for mustering. They are light, powerful and reliable

Little did we know that the next section was the commencement of riding in hell. The road from Carnegie Station to Geraldton Bore was a corrugated road that rattled every part of your bike and body.

(Corrugated road that went for 150km in straight line!!)

I tried all sorts of techniques to get comfortable but nothing worked. I tried riding as fast as possible to try skipping over the ridges …. That didn’t work. I tried riding slower but the bike rattled even more and for longer…. Nothing worked so the only thing I could do was try to relax my muscles and allow the bike to bounce under me and try not to use too much energy. Luckily we had a short break whilst I witness Mick and Adrian herd up 9 camels of which 4 were babies and one bull. The funny thing was to watch them herd the camels them towards the other riders who were stopped on the side to watch. The camels charged start for the riders and you could see their eyes widen with fear as the camels pealed off at the last moment to get around them. You could hear Adrian laughing from a mile away.

We made it to Geraldton Bore at 3pm and decided that camping near water gave us a chance to clean ourselves and wash some cloths. I had quick scotch and coke to calm the nerves then Adrian assisted me washing my hair/body…. In my bikini of course. (sorry no photo’s taken)

Having drinks around the camp fire tonight we heard there is something called “camel slapper” and it goes to someone who can ride next to a camel and smack its arse. If only Adrian knew about that before today cause I think he could have joined the camel slapper club he was that close.

We were told that tomorrow’s ride will divert onto the ‘abandoned’ Gunbarrel Hwy. Most 4WD do not take this road as it’s deteriorated so much that it’s impossible with lots of sand, gravel and more corrugated roads. That gave me something to think about all night and made for a difficult night sleep.

Kram – Adrian was a magnet for being on bikes that kept breaking down. It became a running joke. But in saying that these bikes were on their final trip before being ‘put to rest’ so to speak. By Wiluna he had gone through 3 bikes. Magnus was using his best bush mechanic skills to pull bits of other bikes to get just one bike to work. The truck had 2 bikes on the back in bits. So Adrian still had a bike to use.

Monday 4th October 2010 (Day 6)

From: Million Dollar Corner To: Ayers Rock Via: Gunbarrel Hwy, Warakuma Roadhouse, Docker River,

Distanced Travelled: 570km

Drop Count:
Jetstar John – 1, Dudley – 1, KTM John – 1

Punctures Count:
NZ Peter – 1

Day started at 7.30am on our bikes and tackled the shittest end of the Gunbarrel Hwy. There were lots of empty creek beds to traverse and a mixture and sand, rock and heavily rutted sections that didn’t allow for smooth riding. We definitely left the easy part of the ride behind us now. On many occasions you were confronted with deep ravine’s that provided some opportunity to have some jumping practice without meaning too. NZ Mike bike blew a newly fitted rear suspension. So I was able to get my hands dirty and help replace it.

On one occasion I got in a tricky section where the road collapsed and decided to stop and have a rest whilst working out how to get the frig out of the creek bed or was it a collapsed road? Went to turn the bike on to find out the bike wouldn’t start. It was a blessing cause I really needed to take a break. I didn’t have any tools so waited for Dave to arrive and confirmed the battery cable had slowly worked its way loose after the many kilometres of corrugated and rocky roads. I was surprised I didn’t get a puncture throughout this session because the rocks were brutal. You had to look hard on KTM John’s rims where there weren’t any dents. This section was so gruelling physically and mentally that I was starting to hallucinate. What I thought were the guys sitting under a bush waiting for me were only trees. Lunch break was only 20mins and only other breaks were waiting for fuel. Our support truck was struggling through this section and could only average 10km/h.

We got to Warakuma Roadhouse at 2pm and knew we had another 250km of dirt road & tar riding before we got to Ayers Rock so that would put us in at 6pm. So I put my head down and we were off. I knew I would need one fuel stop before getting there so was dependant on the support truck. Thank god for my ipod nano and the R&B genre to kept me going. The Olga’s came into view and it was spectacular with the afternoon sun hitting the rock and giving off a rich red colour. We stopped at the ‘Welcome to Northern Territory’ sign for a group shot.

Then off we went for mad rush to get into Ayers Rock at a reasonable time. I think I saw the Olga’s and Ayers Rock in the distance but after such a long day I didn’t give a stuff to stop and take photo’s. They only focus was to get to the campground, have a rum/coke at the pub, setup tent, have a shower then dinner in that order.

I think I hit the tar with 40km to go at 6pm and trying to get the bike to do more that 120km/h. Got into Ayer Rock and found the campground and all the bikes/guys sitting around. We immediately found the pub and off we went to lubricate our throats…. Very important maintenance required on our bodies.

Mike’s bike broke down on the tar road into town and took Dave’s bike so he could get to the pub. Magnus and Dave pushed the broken down bike into the bushes and hoped no one could see it from the road. Apparently that worked in one direction but clearly visible in the other direction. But alas we all made it to Ayers Rock and downed a few drinks before setting up our tents in the dark, having a long hot shower and getting back to the pub for our first steak in ages. We didn’t have too late a night as the eyelids wouldn’t stay up so back to the tent for a long sleep in.

Tuesday 5th October 2010 (Day 7)

Lay Day: Ayers Rock

After a nice sleep in and some breakfast we did some maintenance. Adrian worked on my bike (boys job) and I did our cloths washing (girlie’s job). We didn’t have the energy to do anything but sit around have a swim. Didn’t even go to see Ayers Rock. The storm came over at 4.30pm and didn’t stop raining all night. The guys who went to see the rock that afternoon were looking like drowned rats on their return. Dinner was cooked in the camp kitchen and early night was had in preparation for another big days ride. Our original road to Finke was closed due to flooding so an alternate route was discussed but to be finalised tomorrow morning after assessing the conditions.

Sorry guys this is a big day that is worth lots of words… photo’s coming

Wednesday 6th October 2010 (Day

From: Ayers Rock To: Kulgera Roadhouse Via: Curtin Springs, Mulga Park

Distanced Travelled: 360km (100km tar then 260 km of every type of mud – red clay, black and grey sludge)

Drop Count:
NZ Mike 2, NZ Al 1, Kat 1, Dudley 1, KTM John 2, Jetstar John 1

Punctures Count:
Matt – 2 (one caused by a bad tyre change!!), Peter 1 (on tar)

Day’s Experience:
We had a new rider join the group last night. Matt from Sydney (Honda boy) who tried this trip in April but had to by-pass the Simpson Desert due to rain. We think he left Sydney and brought the rain with him as it rained all night and was still raining as we packed up our tents.

After many calls to the local police stations along the route, Magnus confirmed the worst that the roads to Simpson Desert were all closed. Matt was experiencing déjà but regardless we all got on our bikes and rode 100km up the tar road to Curtin Springs for a refuel then reassessed the situation. We lost NZ Mike who missed the one and only fuel stop at Curtin Springs and decided to keep going. Once he realised no one was behind him he turned back and ran out of fuel 20km away. He got to stand in the rain till we arrived. Not happy JAN.

Whilst at the fuel stop I got to literally run into a guy I knew from Berowra running club. God it’s a small world. He was with a group of 6 4WD who tried to cross the Simpson Desert during the rain of which 4 trucks didn’t make it…. 3 were towed out to Alice Springs and 1 was totalled after a serious roll down a dune. He wished us all the luck in the world then laughed. This is when I decided to stock up on a bottle of rum (cost me double the price but it was going to be worth it).

A quick tube change was required on Peter’s TTR250 and was kindly helped by an emu who loved to pick up the tools and NOT hand it to you. We headed up the road and turned right onto a dirt road at 11am. The road looked partially under water and had a ute pulled over with bonnet up. From all reports from the local guy the dirt road was awash and in bad shape. We only had 260km of which the last 30km was tar. So only 230km in rain …. We could do that. …I was soooooo wrong.

So we all set of one after another and all I could see were guys having their back wheel trying to slide ahead of their front wheel. Guys were riding bikes like they were on ice. All I could say was “I’m so screwed” oh well let see if I can be a ballerina on my bike…. Without the tutu. The art was to dodge the rivers on the road and ride along the sloping edge but remember every 300m you had to come back onto the road to ride around the little creeks. I got into a rhythm and time seemed to race by but the km ticked over slowly. We had a quick 30min stop for lunch/drink at 1pm after only covering 60km in 2 hrs. This is where we came across an old Falcon car with about 8 aborigines sitting on the side of the road with a fire going…. Not sure how they got the wood to burn. They had been stuck there for 2 days and wanting help…. mmm. The local police were called up on the 2-way but I don’t think they were rushing!!.

It was tuff getting mentally and physically back into the mode of mud riding knowing we had another 200km to go. There were times where you were looking in amazement at the rider in front you doing an acrobatic display then trying to concentrate on your own situation without giggling. Dudley did a graceful drop that took out a gear lever.

This was the first time I’ve ever felt that it didn’t matter how fit you were, what skills you have, what bike your on … if you didn’t have the mental ability to get through this adversity and still be smiling then you should take up knitting. …. I was looking for the needles and wool by this stage!!

I had a bit of a brain fart moment at about 2.30pm where we hit one of those creeks and Jetstar John stopped suddenly in front of me so I decided to go around, power up the bike and commit like a girl but found myself down an embankment, into a very deep creek where the front tyre got suck and I went over the handlebars, kissing the dirt and making sure I hurt my bad right knee and thigh.. Told the guys I think I didn’t break anything but corked my thigh. Peter wanted an explanation on what a corked thigh was but he realised very quickly that I wasn’t in the mood to explain after every second word was f##k. After getting up and walking around for a nano second I was back on the bike… on the pegs and crying like a girl. We caught up with the guys and got typical boy sympathy – 140km to go.

Just when we were getting on our bikes we were told that the last 50km of mud was the most difficult of the day. I found that hard to understand as the whole day was difficult but I was soon to be taken to another level of mud riding.

So I needed to stop at 4pm for a short break. The truck came up beside me and they were debating how they were going to ride my bike. I just wanted to know how far it was to the end so I could count it down. Apparently once I was told only 100km to go they saw me go into some type of zone, my eyes glazed over, my shoulders went back and my commitment was evident. They breathed a sigh of relief because they didn’t want to get wet. I rode like a possessed demon and as the light was fading and the km were counted down I could see a light in the distance that I thought was a township. I knew straight away when I hit a different type of mud this was going to be the tough bit. The grey mud built up around the tyres and didn’t flick off like the red and black mud did. The grey mud stuck to the tyre and you couldn’t get any sort of traction at all. I still don’t know how I got through but somehow you adjust and pray that it doesn’t last long.

After another hour of riding I came to the intersection of the dirt/tar and there was Adrian on the bike pointing the high beam headlight towards me giving me guidance as to how far to go. It was a monumental moment when he came over and congratulated me on making it to the end. He knew I was doing it tough. Magnus and Pam got out of the truck and the hugs & congratulations killed the pain in the leg. We did the last 25km of tar as fast as possible knowing there was a rum and coke waiting for me at the pub… plus some painkillers.

Mick organised hotel rooms as we were all incapable of putting tents/swags up and all in need of hot showers and a ‘normal bed and toilet’. After a shit load of rum/cokes and big dinner I was escorted back to the room (carried) where I laid down and had the biggest smile on my dial.