This topic contains 25 replies, has 0 voices, and was last updated by 
-
Thursday 7th October 2010 (Day 9)
From: Kulgera Roadhouse To: Mt Dare Via: Finke
Distanced Travelled: 253 km
Drop Count: Jetstar John 2, KTM John 3, Kat 1, Support Truck got bogged
Day’s Experience:
There were a few sore bodies this morning but not sure if it was due to yesterday’s ride or the large consumption of beers/rum & cokes. It was overcast and the wind was blowing from the west but thankfully it wasn’t raining. I munched down a big breakfast and panadine forte knowing that I had more mud riding to do today…. But hey we were experts after yesterday’s experience. Went back to the room and got into our wet cloths but thankfully my BMW liners were still dry. My right knee was no longer looking like a knee but a purple tree trunk. I’m so lucky I didn’t need to put a frock on with high heals.We tried to remove the mud from our bikes as much as possible then fuelled up. Whilst waiting, I meet a local farmer who owns 2 million acres of land down the road and has a couple thousand head of cattle that he was mustering with helicopters and trailbikes (he also is an ex Finke/Australasia Safari bike rider). He gave us the low down on the state of the dirt road to Finke. When you get the response “you’ll be right mate” followed by a laugh you know you’re in for a rough ride. He suggested that there were a few sections that will sort the men out from the boys. So what about a girlie – the laughter got louder. Oh SHIT.
So we crossed the only bit of tar road and straight into mud and heading for Finke. The first bog and slippery section occurred at the 5 km mark. Jetstar John had a really big off that rocked his confidence. KTM John felt sorry for him so he decided to take the same route but got so bogged that the mud locked up the front tyre and it took three guys to push/grunt it out. It pays to watch so I gingerly went around the side of the bog hole and gave them my supporting wave.
It was on one of the many bog holes that Dudley on the TTR250 burnt out his clutch. Dave the mechanic pulled the clutch set apart and noticed it was black and tried rubbing the plates, washing and filing them. In between this we heard lots of swearing. Once he put it back together he rode it for only 3 feet to realise it still stuffed. This was time to phone a friend – the Yamaha dealer. After much scratching around a makeshift rubber clutch plate was made and that put enough pressure on the clutch to work.
Finke was bit of a non event.
Hardly anything there but a petrol pump that costs you $10 fee just to get them to open it up during middle of the day. So we didn’t stay long and off we went for Mount Dare.
Our support truck was also challenged in the bog holes and found himself stuck for many hours waiting for a tow out by the one and only tow truck in the area (from Mt Dare).
Coming into Mount Dare sharpened our skills on rutted roads. In my case I had no skills so it was “do my best” impersonation.
Unfortunately this wasn’t enough and whilst out there on my own I had a big off that caused the handlebars to twist by 30 degrees. The knee took another hit and I just sat there leaning up against my bike and let the tears flow. Couldn’t see anyone so stood up, lifted the bike and finally Adrian came through and saw my skid marks and he scratched his head. We decided to leave the bars as is and spend the next couple of hours limping the bike in. I wouldn’t have got to the end without Adrian riding in front.
This was a moment to have a break whilst Adrian stood on the SA/NT boarder plus open the gate.
It was the longest 40km of riding… I’ve decided give me mud any day but don’t ask me to ride in ruts…. Every rut experience has caused tears.
Got into Mt Dare at 5pm and went straight to the bar and ordered rum/coke and waited few hours for the truck.
By 8pm the truck arrived then got into mode of setting up tent, shower, dinner, pills and sleep with a few rums under my belt.
Friday 8th October 2010 (Day 10)
From: Mt Dare To: Simpson Desert/French Line Via: Road of Stone, Dalhousie Springs, Purni BoreDistanced Travelled: 174km – 70km Road of Stone, 100km clay and flood plains and sand dunes
Drop Count: Jetstar John 1, NZ Mike 1, NZ Al 2, Mick 1, Adrian 1, NZ Peter 1, KTM John 2
Day’s Experience:
So after breakfast Magnus, Dave and Adrian all had a go at straightening my bars. Anything was better than what they were. Looks like I’ll need to replace it on my return to Sydney. The knee now looks really ugly. I strapped it up with tap to give it extra support but the swelling was bludging through.
We left Mt Dare with trepidation with the first 70km known as Road of Stone. I had images of large rocks littering the road but it wasn’t too bad after all. The knee felt every bump so I took it easy and averaged 60km/h. Poor Dave had to stay with me as the last rider so I didn’t get into too much trouble.
The land was so green after all the rain they have had over the last month. We went down the one and only steep hill which in our terms would classify as a mound. There were lots of clay mud plains to cross and it helped following the tracks of my fellow riders. It was sometimes difficult to negotiate sections as the tracks disappeared into water but paddling with my feet seemed to get me through without going for a swimming.
We arrived at a bore to wash down our bikes to remove the large build up of mud. The boys made up a makeshift hose thanks to Jetstar Johns water pack.
The next stop was Dalhousie Springs for a swim and lunch. That was enough of a reason for everyone to push hard to get there as quickly as possible.
Which way do I go?
It didn’t take long into the ride that the effort of getting mud off the bike was a waste of time. The bike was full of mud again but this mud was mixed with salt as we cross the large salt plains. The ruts coming into Dalhousie Springs gave ruts a new definition and caused the butt muscles to tighten. Finally got to the springs and found the boys all in the water looking pleased with themselves.
I did the made dash to the lake, got into my cossie’s and into the water but didn’t realise it was full of little fish that nibble on your dead skin. That took some time getting use to. I must have a lot of dead skin.
After lunch we were off to the Simpson Desert. It was a gradual experience riding on mud then to hard packed sand to then going over dunes. We had to pair up with a buddy who travelled at the same pace so NZ Peter was going to be my new best friend. We stopped quickly at Purni Bore for a looksie.
The riding felt comfortable but I was reminded by Dave and Magnus that the sand seemed well packed down due to the large amount of rain that occurred over the last month. If it’s going to be like this I’ll lick it in. We got to the French Line sign which I suppose is the official start of riding in the Simpson when all things changed.
KTM John’s side stand came loose and a makeshift stand was created thanks to Adrian.
That hard pack sand turned to soft and slippery. We lasted 4km before thankfully finding a camping spot for the night. I was so shitting myself during the 4kms that I started to worry how I was going to do the next 326km.. I had all night to worry about that one.
Magnus cooked a roast in the camp oven and mixed with a very strong rum/coke with panadine forte things were looking rosie.
The discussion over dinner was how to ride in sand comfortably. Good time to get a instructions on the do’s/don’ts of riding in sand. Didn’t sleep well but had lots of time to visualise how to ride in sand. That started my anxiety attack.
Saturday 9th October 2010 (Day 11)
From: Simpson Desert/French Line To: Simpson Desert/French Line
Distanced Travelled: 140km of sand dunes
Drop Count: KTM John 3, NZ Peter 2, Kat 1, Dudley 2, NZ Mike 1
Day’s Experience:
Sometimes it helps being a girl because you can justify being emotionally out of control. I woke up at 4.30am and by 5.30am I was in full anxiety mode and my crying woke Adrian up. I was sitting on the edge of my cot thinking “how was I going to cover over 100km of sand today”.
So the best recipe for managing an anxiety attack was to keep myself busy so we started packing our stuff up and had breakfast. I was very quiet and couldn’t even sit with the guys to talk through fear I would break down in front of them and make things uncomfortable.
With everything packed up and nothing else to do but start riding the anxiety feeling went up another level. I went over to NZ Peter (my riding buddy) and told him I’m nervous as hell then the tears stated to flow again. I headed up one of the sand dunes and had a ‘meditation moment’ followed by a hug from Adrian. Adrian confirmed he would stay with me this morning to help me through the initial period. Dave also stayed with us and was responsible for taking some of the most amazing photos of me in action.
So we headed out and I tried to relax into the ride asap.
The French Line is one straight track for as far as you can see. Just had to cross 1500 dunes to get to the end.
The dunes were fantastic. The sand had been compacted by the unseasonal rain and made riding easier than expected. The wildflowers were breath taking.
I got into the mode of powering the bike up the sand dune, throttling off towards the top but not too much that slowed the bike down, then quickly assessing whether you needed to veer left/right or straight, and maintaining power down the dune, leaning back and allowing the front wheel to go where ever it wanted to go.
I made it to morning tea after riding for 38km without falling. Things were looking up. After morning tea we set of for 54km to lunch. I knew this was going to be tough. We probably averaged about 30km/h chugging through the dunes before I decided to do a spectacular fall that had the bike mounted on a sand mound. Rodney the teddy was sitting his arse on the sand and the front wheel was decorated in wild flowers. It occurred on the down side of a huge dune. No injuries occurred, just sore belly muscles from laughing too much. Gave Magnus something to laugh at when he came through on the truck. He knew it had all the markings of a girlie fall. I think it was one of the guys skid marks that I saw that took my concentration away from picking a good line….. well that’s my justification for hitting the mound.
Photo opportunity on top of a very large dune:
Found some melons!!
We got to lunch, ate, fuelled up and off we went again. Our next adventure was to cross very large clay/salt lakes that were wet and boggie. This is where you send out the canary – me and determine if one bike can cross then the other bikes follow. Bikes slipped all over the place and wasn’t unusual for the tyres to sink deep into mud that required to place your weight back and hit 2nd gear with lots of power. We made camp at 4.30pm and all up felt good how the day transpired with only experiencing one fall. I’m now feeling better about riding on the sand.
Sunday 10th October 2010 (Day 12)
From: Simpson Desert/French Line To: Simpson Desert/French Line Via: Poeppel Corner,
Eyre CreekDistanced Travelled: 153km of sand dunes
Drop Count: Biggest Drop Count for the trip = total 29
NZ Al 4, David 2, NZ Peter 4, Mick 4, Kat 5, NZ Mike 2, KTM John 4, Dudley 4
Day’s Experience:
The target was to get over Big Red (biggest sand dune in Simpson Desert) and ride to Birdsville so we could enjoy a night at the pub. It was tall order to achieve the distance but everyone was focused.The sand seemed softer and the dunes seem to be growing in height. After about 30mins of riding we came to our first gnarly sand dunes. Dudley tried couple of times to get up the hill but had no success. KTM John did a nice drop before the top. Jetstar John was supporting and assisting where possible. Dave and Adrian were waiting and watching the entertainment!!. I fluked it and got up without any problems. The support truck come through and bedded the sand and made it easier for Dudley and Jetstar John. I think this was the start of the day for Dudley where every sand dune became a problem for him and he mentally lost the plot.
I have to explain that Jetstar John did this trip a year earlier but from Airlie Beach to Perth and got to the Simpson Desert and cross the first sand dune (being Big Red) and had a massive off breaking collar bone and few ribs. Being a Pilot for Jetstar and carrying these injuries meant he was off work for sometime until he could demonstrate he had full mobility some months later. Jetstar John’s courage and tenacity was inspiring and was someone who motivated, supported and guided me. He had a desert to cross and I know he was passionate about doing it in one piece.
We were slowed up by crossing the many salt and mud plains. Sometimes we had to do a detour around that could take additional 20km’s of riding or you took the plunge and try to ride over it.
On one such occasion I went out on my own and only just got to the other side. Dave and Peter followed but they didn’t factor in their heavier bikes and weighing slightly heavier than me – so they got bogged. Dave dropped his bike twice and Peter paddled, grunted and pushed his way through.
On another occasion I wasn’t so lucky and got a little bogged. Thanks to Matt he helped drag my bike out.
NZ Mike and Al got stuck out in the middle and I felt sorry for them so I walked out and between the three of us we were able to push the bikes out. Poor Al was struggling to walk in this shit let alone push a bike.
The afternoon was tiring so much so I lost concentration on a rut and was flipped off my bike and had a side impact on my right shoulder. I heard my bone break (AC Joint) in the shoulder and lay on the ground thinking OMG. NZ Peter was waiting for me on the next sand dune and couldn’t come back. So after counting to what seemed like 1000, I was able to somehow pick up my bike. I could feel the bump on the shoulder joint and since I experienced something similar on my left shoulder about year before I knew what damage I had done. So after moving my arm around to determine mobility I realised that I only had one option and that was to continue riding. I finally got to Peter and after a few tears we decided to keep going and knew that the concentration of riding would mask the pain. Thank god for adrenaline – it’s the best pain reliever.
We visited Poeppel Corner (boarder of NT, SA, QLD) and had time for lunch.
With the smell of Birdville we were off again. Mike decided to make his own tracks by bush bashing through a section only to find a nice hole to fall in. Took 4 guys to help him out.
By late afternoon it was evident we weren’t going to make it to Birdsville. Mike decided he could make it on the fuel he had so he was off in the direction of Big Red. We ended up camping at Eyre Creek. Apparently this was the first time in 70 years that the creek had water in it. Adrian and I went down for a swim to work off 3 days of tears, sweat and sand. It was a hard day, the shoulder and knee were hurting and I was trying to remind myself that this was my ideal holiday.
Monday 11th October 2010 (Day 13)
From: Simpson Desert/French Line To: Betoota Via: Big Red, Birdsville
Distanced Travelled: 354km
Drop Count: KTM John 1, Dudley 1, Kat 1, Matt 1, NZ Mike 1
Day’s Experience:
Our last day in the dunes and my body was very stiff and sore. We travelled for 30kms with the knowledge that Big Red was ahead of us and there was only one option for getting over Big Red…. That was to ride over the top.During the ride there we had multiple soft dunes to cross. One undid me and I fell towards the top on my sore shoulder. If I couldn’t get over this one how was I going to do Big Red. We could see it in the distance and it felt like looking at a tidal wave of sand that sits in one place. We could see some of guys attempting the dune but looked like they dropped it three quarters the way up. Well if they are having troubles then I’m sure when it’s my turn they will have some entertainment.
It took about 40mins of riding around a lake full of water before we got to the base of Big Red. It was surreal to see so much water in the desert. By this stage all the guys were up the top of the dune looking down at NZ Peter, Dave, the support truck and myself. NZ Peter went first and got three quarters up when the bike came to a stop. He was able to recover and get to the top without to much effort.
It was my turn next. Dave gave me a counselling session before attempting it.
I took my bike out as far as possible into the creek bed so I could get as much of a run up as possible. The boys thought I would run out of petrol if I kept going. It was my stalling technique so I could get myself mentally prepared. I started the bike in 2nd and open the throttle then click it as fast as possible into 3rd and kept the throttle open. My screaming stared when I was in 2nd gear. Rodney legs were flying in the air and my butt muscles were tight as. I got three quarters up and clicked it into 2nd, the bike was bucking over the soft ruts when I got to the top all the guys were cheering. I got huge hug from Adrian then Jetstar John. I DID IT.
Kat going up Big Red:
Please turn down your sound as my screaming might hurt your ears….http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iJtXrx1qaOc&feature=share
Dave came up next making it look so easy. The support truck was last one up but after a couple of attempts Magnus didn’t make it so he did the slow crawl around the base of the dune. The other side of the dune had another lake that again required you to do a 30km detour.
On to Birdsville and the sniff of a pub drove us as fast as possible to our next destination. Once I arrived Adrian had a rum and coke ready for me at the bar. Either I’m so spoilt or Adrian is well trained…. Maybe both.
In the Birdsville Pub:
The mobile was working so I was able to ring Mum and Dad to let them know I made it across without needing a helicopter. Next call was my made to my 4WD enthusiastic brother who wanted the fine details of the Simpson Desert. After few drinks we headed off to wash down our bikes so the salt/mud didn’t harden up then the next stop was the caravan park for a shower then the bakery. Some tried the camel pie I just did the normal sausage roll with weak hot chocolate with soya milk (the guy laughed at my hot choc).
So by this stage I felt like I’d lost a lot of weight. I started the trip at 54kg and I was easily down to 49kg. I’m not complaining it just made it funny seeing my cloths hang off me.
After some debate we decided at 2pm to keep going as we were half a day behind schedule. It was difficult to leave Birdsville as a few of us wanted to slowly drink, eat and slept the afternoon away but alas we headed to Betoota – 175km of open fire trail mixed with some rutted sections before we got to our campsite…. Thank god there were no RBT’s on the road. It was a nice feeling that the hardest part of the ride was now over.
Well done Kat, you made Big Red look like a mole hill
Anonymoushiya Kat :cheer:
just read your epic adventure.Well done on kickin the red centres butt
i bet it was a life changing experience :cheer:
very proud of ya :cheer: and a big bloody high five in your direction
thanks for sharing it with us Old Bulls.Bol :woohoo:
You must be logged in to reply to this topic.