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EARLIER
About NINE MONTHS ago a general plan was hatched to do an outback adventure for a week in western NSW (New South Wales) and eastern SA (South Australia). Winter is cold, but there is no way I’d be riding out west in summer. Winter is also the time when most of us were available due to our own and our kids sporting and other commitments.
After some changes to dates because the original clashed for someone who can only have holidays during school holidays (do I feel envious or sorry for him??).
Expressions of interest were sent out to like minded riders who I thought would be able to put up with a week of me in the bush. There were lots of “yeah maybe” “if the stars and planets align” and “I wish” bandied about. But at the end of the day only four rock solid “bloody oath I’ll be in that” answers came in.
The three musketeers were off again on another ride!
Shane – owning a VOR changes a man.
Bucky – owning a Tenere changed this man
Me – I’ve always been different
We have been riding together for about 20 years. Though these days one of us pilots a 4wd, not that there’s anything wrong with that. But that helps us out too as we can live better on the road than we might otherwise do.
The other two on our trip are
Tractor – Hard KORE Guru of the interwebs and carrier of what ever tool you need.
Fred (son of Shane) – apprentice human, official trip photographer and all round good young bloke! When he gets on two wheels I see him becoming and even better bloke. Fred likes the Googles, he uses them to verify the information given to him by the old blokes on the trip.
Fred loves the Rock Star glasses, but not as much as the girlies at his school! Shane tells me that Fred has a six pack… and the girlies love a six pack on a 15yo boy!
There was lots of to’ing and fro’ing. In the end there were THREE distinct groups who would all meet at Cameron Corner on Sunday the 29 June, 2014 for a beer and a meal before heading off to Arkaroola, Yunta, Broken Hill, Silverton, White Cliffs, Tilpa, Louth and finally finishing up in Bourke.
GROUP ONE – Tractor
HARD to the core. He was riding from the Newcastle area to Bourke to meet group three. Tractor left home on Thursday morning. Tractor was carrying a SPOT tracker so we could watch him as he made his way from coffee house to pub across the country.Mr Hard Kore (that’s how all the popular kids spell it these days apparently) ran into some of his own problems along the way. Including issues with his side stand and some MAJOR frost on his first night hard coring it.
Ouch!
Mr Fix its shop.
Hard Core camp 1
Hard Kore assures me that the white stuff on his seat is not talcum powder for his cheeks but frost!
On his second night he went all limp and holed up in a pub at Coonamble or Coonabloodybarrabran or some town whose name started with a C and had two O’s in it. My spy pics showed he was manly drying out his tent in his room while he sat by the fire in the Ladies Lounge warming his tootsies.
My wife was rather concerned with this lack of progress when we last spoke on Friday night. She claimed he’d never catch us or we wouldn’t be leaving on time on Saturday. From the comfort of the soft core time and continuum traveller Bucky and I decided that the dead line would be 1pm in Bourke. If Mr Hard as nails wasn’t in town by then he cold chase our dust until he caught up… I mean who rides 1000km to get to the start of a ride? That’s just nonsense!
GROUP TWO – Shane and Fred
If it’ll fit in we’ll take it. Shane left home on Thursday morning with his six month old Hilux with more batteries and gadgets than the Apollo moon landing. He was good enough to carry the beer, food and extra baggage for the bike boys.
Note the VOR sticker on the top of the esky!
We nicknamed his truck the Kamaz after those Paris Dakar trucks that chase motorbikes down…
Shane also had some type of tracker set up in his truck. This meant that Bucky and I could sit back and watch these blokes as they ventured off on their holiday while we remained going about our daily business and itching to get going ourselves.
Shane and Freddo did a lap into south western QLD and down into SA before meeting us at the corner on Sunday afternoon.
Nocundra pub
Moomba gas fields
There’s no flies on our Fred!
Shane also went to Inamincka, but we don’t talk about that. He’s going to take FOREVER to get over it, he’s so scarred he’s openly stated he’ll never go back… and that’s a long time!
GROUP THREE – Bucky and JTB
Soft to the core and proud of it! Due to other commitments we couldn’t leave until lunchtime Friday. I was leaving from the western suburbs of Sydney and Bucky from Newcastle. We trailered our bikes to Dubbo where we met and transferred Bucky’s gear to my car and trailer.
Marc COMA doesn’t ride to the start line, neither should we!
A mate of mine (Gonz) kindly allowed us to leave Bucky’s vehicle at his place while we trundled on to Bourke and spent a week riding around the country side. Thanks Gonz! It was cool in Dubbo. What else would a soft core adventurer do but turn up the heater and pull into a fast food joint for a fast meal!
We left Dubbo and headed north west, through Glen McGRATH country and on to Nyngan. Not much happening in Nyngan so we set sail along the 200km of straight bitumen that is the Mitchell Highway to Bourke. The closer we got to Bourke the more roo’s we saw. I knocked it back to 60kph and we cruised into Bourke and my mate Chinner’s place. My mate Chinner had a huge shed that we unloaded the bikes in and then stored my trailer and Prado in while we were gallivanting about the country side. Thanks Chinner!
Chinner was also kind enough to put us up for the night. Bucky was given the Chinner King bed visitors room and I was given the double bed visitors room. To top that off Chinner handed out some free beer and we watched a bit of the tele with those blokes who ride around in circles on the tar at stupid speeds. After turning down the air con a tad we went to bed.
DAY ONE START
We got up at the civil hour of 9am or so, had a hot shower and took the grand tour of Bourke. We had a lovely pie for breakfast while sipping a latte at the Bourke Bakery. We did the tourist thing and had a look around before ambling back to Chinner’s house to get ready.
North Bourke Bridge
Port of Bourke Wharf on the Darling
Trucks are bigger out west
Chinner suggest that as we were taking a big ride that arvo we shouldn’t do so on an empty stomach. While I was doing something inane in the shed with my bike I hear the “loud pipes save lives” exhaust note from a KTM640ADV out the front. He made it on time! Groups one and three are now united. Off to what used to be the Bourke Rissole but is now some type of lunch venue. I saw the crumbed lamb cutlets on the menu and chose them as did Bucky. Every day of the trip I must have heard Bucky mention how good the crumbed lamb cutlets were in Bourke! He loved them.
Lunch over it was time to get back to Chinner’s, gear up and mount up.
Finally I throw my leg over the bike, GPS on? Check. UHF on? Check. Bag and pannier lids secure? Check. I fire the Ten up and soon enough we’re away on the trip I always dreamed of doing. Thirty seconds down the road and Mr Hard KORE tells us he needs fuel… ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh kayyyyyyyyyyyyyy.
Hard KORE pulls into the BP. I spot a few local lads hanging around outside the servo. I’ve spent enough time in the bush to know that I shouldn’t pull up where they are. I go down the road 50m and pull over. I look in my mirrors and there’s city boy Bucky surrounded by traditional owners. I laugh to self and fish around for the camera. While I’m doing that one appears from no where, across the street and asks if my black Tenere is a “Katie Emmmmm”. I know that if you engage your gone so I replied “Yep” and he’s off to talk to Bucky. By the time I get to Bucky he’s convinced that Bucky’s white Tenere is a DRZ! The group then proceeds to push, pull, touch, tilt and tamper with anything they can. Lesson learned Bucky.
Now that KORE has filled up we’re off! 50km of bitumen starts our ride… I HATE bitumen. The only thing it’s good for is driving cars down it to take your trailer to the good riding spots. While I’m getting along I notice two things. Firstly there is a strong westerly wind blowing and secondly I haven’t put my ear plugs in. So I stopped and rectified the ear plug issue and got going.
Soon enough we hit the dirt. It’s poo, sandy and corrugated. I found the best line on the other side of the road right at the edge of the formed road. We struggled along on 100kph where we could.
Big sky country out here!
Eventually I came up behind what, from the dust, I thought was a truck. As I suit there wondering how long we’d have to wait to be able to get around it… BOOM! A two trailer road train blasts out of the first trucks dust heading towards Bourke. I had just enough time to yell to the boys over the UHF to get off the road as there was a road train coming at them at pace. I ducked off the road and waited for the dust to settle.
Then I hear Bucky in a distressed state saying he’s stuck under the bike. We’ve been riding together for a long time and I’ve never heard him sound so panicked. I raced back to find him pinned awkwardly under the bike, leg and knee twisted and head lower than his body over the edge. It took KORE and I to both lift the bike enough for Bucky to get his leg out. As Bucky sat in the dirt next to his bike he spied me taking the camera out and made the most miraculous recovery since Jesus himself roamed the earth two thousand years ago.
Bucky limps about for bit, then he gets back on the bike and we endure the rest of the road into Wanaaring. As we hit the tar in Wanaaring we come up behind the truck we were behind earlier as he stopped to drop his dust, we blasted past him.
One of the boys used to work for the government. When you do that, people know people who know people. This ends up with us staying here…
The vacancy sign is always lit.
And on this occasion the shop was shut.
So we unpacked in the secure parking area
Bucky felt the serenity… or was that the security?
The man who works for the government, let’s call him “B.” was most hospitable! He had bought a heap of meat and salad, stocked the fridge with a selection of beer and best still, had pre purchased us some fuel so we didn’t have to wait for the local servo to open before we left town!
Bucky cooked up a storm on B.’s BBQ and we sat around telling tall tales until at least 9pm (told you we were soft core). Then I was shown to my suite…
I really don’t know why they say this adventure riding stuff has to be hard. Cold beer, warm and comfortable beds and BBQ’s… what’s wrong with that picture in between rides?
Bucky tells me a woman’s work is never done…
Bucky even slept in the old cells out the back. He probably took a few pics, but they’re somewhere out on the Strez track, but we’ll get to that in good time.
Thanks to B! I’m wondering why it took so long to get into this adventure riding stuff? When we do our trail/enduro get togethers we sleep in shearing sheds! How good is this adventure riding stuff?
The end of DAY ONE.
More coming after I download some photo’s and write some more wordage.
DAY 2
So we’re up bright and early and leave Wanaaring just as the sun is breaching the horizon.
The main drag, Wanaaring during peak hour.
The sun chased us west
Mmmmmmmmmm… red dirt
It was cold, down around 1 or 2 deg Celsius I guess. But that didn’t take into account the wind chill. I hadn’t got hold of a pair of winter weight gloves and was riding in my Fox motocross gloves and pants. I had thermals on underneath, but was still cold. I had a fluro green rainsuit in my panniers and cracked that out. For the rest of the trip I ran three layers on my bottom half every day. Each morning I’d put the rain jacket on but usually take it off by lunch time and have my enduro jacket as the outer layer on my top half.
Somewhere in the middle of no where in particular
Finally, Tibooburra turned up… straight to the servo.
Tibooburra while still very remote has a few more amenities than Wanaaring
B. even showed up for a coffee! When he asked how the ride was I told him I was bloody cold… he made a point of telling me how comfortable it was in the Pajero cab with the air con set to 21 deg c! Bastard.
Had the WORST meal of the trip in Tibooburra. If you are in town do NOT go for the lamb and gravy roll from the store across the road from the single storey pub. It sounded great, mentally I was comparing it to one I have here in Sydney… It was a hot dog bun with something they claimed was lamb and meat, and who puts cheese on a lamb roll (for any US cousins reading this, we don’t use cheese as a condiment over here).
Soon enough it was time to get going so we could hit Cameron Corner with time to set up camp in the daylight and hopefully meet Shane and Freddo before the sun went down. Mentally I had Tibooburra to Cameron Corner as a 240km trip. In actual fact it’s about 140km, bad blue, but a positive one. We ended up with more fuel and time at the end of the day.
We headed north on the Silver City Highway (dirt road) before hanging a left and entering the Surt National Park and generally heading west to Cameron Corner where NSW, SA and QLD state borders meet in the red sand.
My fluro rainsuit in action!
Hard KORE was still having drama’s with his side stand and was having to put the stand down on the left and then get off the bike on the right hand side…
Stones every where, slippery bastards to ride on.
Close up of the same stones
Toona Gate Road turnoff
The landscape changed continually from black soil, to red sand to clay, to small stones, white sand… an amazing part of the world.
About 30km from the corner we came across this dry lake. It was home to millions of flys.
Lake is up behind those trees
That clown in the green suit is everywhere! I used all the safety colours, my neck warmer was fluro orange from the $2 run out bin at one of the bigger camping chains… BARGAIN and safe!
My ignorance showed at the gate which is the border between South Australia and New South Wales. The other two blokes who hadn’t been there before were chasing their camera’s for pics. I’d been there four or five times before and it was just an obstacle between me and our destination. In fact I didn’t even walk up to the post at the corner this time. Sad case of “been there done that”. But I don’t begrudge them their want to take pics… it was EXACTLY what I did when I first layed eyes on the place.
I’ll get the gate boys…
Anytime you’re ready…
Bucky was loving it… I was impressed. This was the same bloke who told me less than 12 months ago he wasn’t really interested in exploring outback NSW as, apparently, there was just lots of “nothing to look at”. I think I can safely say he’s changed his views.
On clearing the gate we reach our destination… photo taken by Hard KORE from South Australia of the Corner Store/pub in Queensland having literally just crossed the SA/NSW border.
Hard KORE at the corner!
I rode up to the pub while the boys got their photo’s to look for Shane. He found me… walked out of the pub with a freshly cracked and cold beer. CHEERS! Finally here again, fifteen years after we last did it together. Both having been back since.
We decided to set up camp before it got dark. This’ll do nicely! No fire needed as we were eating at the pub. We’d just walk from Queensland to South Australia and jump in our swags!
That’d be me in the fluro work top! Can’t beat the swag, three buckles roll it out get in. I had sheets and blankets and even a real pillow from home. Couldn’t carry it on the bike. Just as well I’m soft core and have a great mate who is happy to drag it around for me.
Why the place exists.
Shane or Freddo got very artistic
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The tuning fork machine that got me here and around our whole loop with zero problems, all I did was put fuel in, check air, oil and water and tension the chain every second day as the chain was new for the ride and was stretching a little.
We are the little group on the right. When we set up there was NO ONE to the left of the pic. Within ten minutes of us setting up they came from everywhere with caravans and roof tents and more lights than a major city. You come all the way out here and have to camp on top of everyone else????
Just on dark we wander back over to the pub…
Freddo wishing he had Googles around to help him verify what the old blokes were saying around the table
Couple of these while we waited for dinner time
Then I ordered the Scotch Filet for just $30… you’d pay more in Sydney for less of a feed than this. THIS WAS THE BEST PURCHASED MEAL OF THE TRIP!!! We didn’t purchase many due to our on tour chef Shane’s abilities in the kitchen.
While eating, this shirt was highlighted to me. It looks like even the hard core come out here? I have spoken with most of them on the interwebs and even ridden with one or two of them. Small world.
And that was our night before we walked to South Australia and went to bed. Luckily the “campers” had a street light set up and we didn’t need any torches to get back to where we belonged. Watched the gazillion stars for a bit before tucking my head down into the swag due to the cold.
Another day on the road tomorrow!
DAY 3
Finally we were altogether and the excitement showed, we were up at very dark o’clock. Not so sure of caravanning neighbours would have been all that happy with our early departure. Mind you we weren’t the first vehicles to leave that morning. We watched as a group of about four or five four wheel drives left. When they got to the main track two turned left to head east into NSW, the other two turned right and stopped. Maybe they weren’t together after all? Thirty seconds or so the two left turners must have changed their mind… ‘cause they came back and joined their mates and headed west towards the Strzelecki Track! We had a bit of a chuckle about that one.
View to the east from our camp
There was a little ice on my rear bag this morning… but it’d be worse in a day or two.
About to move out
We headed west with me up front… Fred, the teams official photographer, was in the passenger seat and in the better bits was able to snap a few shots of me mobile, towards the Strzelecki.
There were a few (four to be exact) bad bull dust holes that were identified by red flags in them. I saw them, called them on the UHF for the blokes following on two and four wheels. Some of the dunes had really steep faces on them, I stayed left when cresting and generally didn’t have too many drama’s. Excepting for one dune where I crested at about 80kph, I was standing. All good front went into a bull dust hole and banged hard when it hit the far end… next thing I know is that I performing a “stoppie” without the use of the brake going down the road at 80kph! It was the only “scare self” moment I had during the whole 2200km of the trip. Next I hear Shane on the UHF, he was behind me and saw the whole event unfold “You blokes better watch that next dune, John’s just had a moment!” it didn’t help that he was pissing himself laughing… no photo’s or anything! I’d just like to thank who ever invented gyroscopic force, because it wasn’t my skill that kept me upright.
So I continue west and come around this corner…
… suddenly the pink line on the GPS turns left. Bugger! I didn’t see that turn? I go back and find this…
Bugger me! That wasn’t in the plan. It was a very new sign. I know blokes that have been that way to get to the Strzelecki and then south.
We have a discussion. You can’t go on private property. When we get to where the track intersects with the Strzelecki Track we find a copy of the sign at that end too.
While we waited for Shane to catch up we had a blow and a look at the Strz Track
The track coming out of Lindon station onto the Strz… look ed really interesting too!
Something was growing where it had no right to
Bucky and I discuss the meaning of life in the middle of the track
Shane caught up and we helped ourselves to lunch from the tailgate selection
Fred whacked up the HF aerial
And Shane did a bit of CQ’ing on the travellers net
Fred did some maintenance on the canopy retaining bolts which had loosened off a bit with the corrugations
Bucky’s pony waiting to be given it’s head…
I have to say I was very impressed with the low speeds the road trains travelled at on the dirt, mind you the Strzelecki was, without doubt, THE WORST road we travelled on during the trip.
Soon enough we had the aerial down and the luncheon stuff packed away and we were off southbound. The Strzelecki is one of those iconic roads in outback Australia that I had heard about as a kid, far too many decades ago. It would appear that I wasn’t the only one who heard about it because it looked like many others had been this way
As “tracks” go this was freeway wide.
There was one section of tar in the 150km section we travelled with this sign at the end
No shit Sherlock! Maybe it was for those who camped there the previous night and forgot about the crappy road they travelled?
My view of the view
That bloody white Hilux that was stalking us
Not long after this photo I follow the pink line to the Mt Hopeless turnoff. I see Bucky and Hard KORE parked up where the red arrow is.
There were two bikes just moving off from them as I approached, one fellow on a black Tenere like mine and another on a DR650?? I think…
Anywho, doesn’t matter as I decided I’d just keep moving. Shane stopped with Bucky and I moved to the gate (bottom centre of the above pic), I got on the radio and told Shane I’d keep moving and leave the gate open. Could he ask HK or Bucky to make sure they shut the gate? I zoom off. This is where things started to change on this trip…
Around every corner and over every crest the view just got better and better until we set up camp that night! Not only was the view good the track and it’s condition made it one to be ridden, not just droned down like the Strz Track we had just left. No words I could utter about trhis track and afternoon would go anywhere near describing it. I know I wasn’t dreaming it because we were all experiencing the same thing in our respective helmets/cabin.They coming? There were some comms issues with Bucky and Hard KORE, so we had to revert to old school… count the bikes and keep going.
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Hard KORE being Hard KORE
Bucky loving it… yet to be hit with the bad news.
Why do they tell you how bad it can be AFTER you’ve finished?
Finally we pull up at this intersection which is the turn off to Arkaroola. I’m told Bucky’s bad news… “You what?”… “You lost your mobile phone back at the intersection of the Strzelecki Track?”… “Fark!”…
Bucky looking for his phone… Fred finds it humorous that it’s over 150km to where it was last seen.
Turns out Bucky had it out (using it as his camera, just like I was). When the other bikes turned up he thinks he may have put it on his rear bag to chat. Then as they pulled away Shane and I turned up and basically just kept moving. In his haste to put his helmet back on and catch up with us and Hard KORE he just plain forgot.
So if you’re around the intersection of the Strzelecki Track and the Mt Hopeless turn off to Arkaroola please have a look around for Bucky’s HTC One XL that looks just like this:
He’d be very appreciative if it was returned to him… apparently his computer nerdness rating is zero out of ten. He had EVERY photo he had ever taken still on the phone and they hadn’t been backed up elsewhere, even I can do that Bucky!
But he took it all rather well and we proceeded into Arkaroola. My earlier comment “Around every corner and over every crest the view just got better and better until we set up camp that night! Not only was the view good the track and it’s condition made it one to be ridden, not just droned down like the Strz Track…” still held!
Up this way
Hard KORE on the juice
The views from the servo at Arkaroola…
The following are taken in the camp ground
The moment Fred realised the snorer had placed his tent closer to the neighbouring camp than ours!
I remember the whole mountain being this colour…
The colour doesn’t look as spectacular in this one.
Everybody was feeling the serenity
That night Shane knocked up some steak, train smash and a pasta concoction. It was washed down with a few beers. Arkaroola campsite also had a shower block that we utilised. If you only used the hot tap and could survive on a trickle you had a shower. But I have to say it made me feel like a million dollars, especially after a change of clobber.
A great day on the bike, which ended up in a spectacular camp site. There was no timber around so we for went the fire tonight, but a bush camp was to be had tomorrow night and that meant a fire!
More soonish.
Great trip and fantastic report JTB
About time you blokes got backhuskybloke wrote:geez i thought one of them guys looked familiar, its my brother :blink: whats he go under hard kore?He’s Hard to the Kore!
I thought it would be rude to call a bloke who rides from Newcastle to the start line at Bourke “Really STUPID” when Bucky and I were trailering out.
Or maybe because his arse is HARD to put up with 10-12 days sitting on a KTM seat while covering about 4000km. :whistle: And we won’t even start on the tools he was carrying or his 1.6million dollar sleeping bag! :whistle:
“i thought it would be rude to call a bloke who rides from Newcastle to the start line at Bourke “Really STUPID” when Bucky and I were trailering out.”
i have to agree with my brother a bike trips a bike trip , not trailer it halfway then get on it but as i said we would both use any excuse to go for a ride
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