Heading Home

Advanced bike to bike communication system

Sunday, 1^st April

April Fools Day! When we arrived in Adelaide our thoughts had turned to home and it took quite some will power to stay as long as we did. Of course we are glad we did stay as we had a great time. It didn't stop us from packing up our tent with a smile on our faces, the open road beckoning once more.

Coming from a sailing background, Steve and I have developed over the years a degree of superstition - never go to sea on a Friday, always pass the port to the left and so on. I am sure we would never in a million years have set sail from Adelaide bound for Fremantle on April Fools Day, however, we were bikers now and threw caution to the wind. On such a superstitious morning one can never be completely off their guard!

We were soon out of the city and retracing our steps through the beautiful Clare Valley. We met a group of bikers in Clare, congregating for their Sunday ride. We asked "how long will it take us to get to The Stone Hut bakery?" They umm'd and ah'd between them before coming up with one and a half hours. "That far" we said. Was this the April Fools joke we had to look out for? "Looks like its going to be a late lunch then" said Steve. There was no way we were falling for that one, buying lunch in the next town, only to find the bakery turning up five kilometres down the road. The locals were nearly right. We just built up a bigger appetite. I managed to scoff down a custard tart too! We stopped for a cup of tea in Melrose, the main street looking exactly as we had left it seven weeks before. Then it was through Horrocks Pass once more and across the plains to Port Augusta. Our riding skills had obviously improved as we were keeping up with the local traffic easily.

We pitched our tent for the last time in Port Augusta, and prayed for a dew free night so that we could pack up the tent dry the following day. The last three nights of our journey home would be spent in hard accommodation.

 

Monday, 2^nd April

Our prayers were answered! Well nearly! Only a light dew had fallen and the tent quickly dried while we were having breakfast. It seemed surreal that we were packing up the tent for the last time. We were on our way by 8:30am for a pleasant, easy days run to Ceduna, only 468km away. At the fuel stop in Kimba we met a couple of Ulyssians heading east, from WA's Joondalup branch. They were on a Goldwing, towing a camper trailer. Their journey just beginning, ours coming to an end. Our cabin at the Big4 in Ceduna was great. Our own toilet and shower seemed a luxury we had forgotten existed. Of course we just had to have one last seafood basket, they just aren't quite the same in WA.

 

Always happy to stop at the edge of Australia

Tuesday, 3^rd April

Without the tent to pack away we were showered, fed and ready to leave by 7am! It was time to get some real miles under our belts, hoping to make Madura some 673km away. It was a great riding day, not too hot, with a good following breeze, which worked wonders for the fuel consumption. We will never forget the feeling of riding on the open road, mile after mile with hardly a care in the world. Noticing every scenic change, the Highway Heaven feeling so electric at times it almost felt like a tangible thing.

Nullarbor Roadhouse

It was usually me who went and handed over the credit card when we had filled up with fuel. I always enjoyed the brief exchanges I had with the colourful characters who worked in the roadhouses. When we arrived at Nullarbor I was delighted with the guy on duty. He wore a big cowboy hat together with a leather waste coat and he really looked the part. It was a warm day, and I don't know how he managed to keep the jacket on! I noticed right next to the counter, creatures, carefully preserved in large pickle jars - scorpions, spiders, snakes, and asked where they found them. He replied "I caught most of them, usually first thing in the mornin', right there on the door step!" Brought shivers down my spine just the thought of it. I was so taken by this guy that he got a mention in a song I was writing.

 

When the days turn to winter and my spirit gets restless,

Its time to hit the road for a month or three.

Don't look for nothin' special,

Just a chance to find my soul

And meet that fancy dude at the Nullarbor tree!

 

We were making good time when we arrived at Eucla, so we rode on the extra 180km to Madura. The strong following breeze stayed with us all day and it sure made for comfortable riding. In the motel room next door to us was a cyclist, riding from east to west. The strong easterly wind had helped him cover the 180km between Eucla and Madura in one day! We stuck to some good old truckie tucker for dinner and settled in to watch TV before falling easily to sleep.

 

Coffee Break

Wednesday, 4^th April

We were up and away with just a cup of coffee to sustain us until Caiguna, 155km away. A dense fog had descended on Madura overnight, however it was very localised, and the air was clear as soon as we were out of the valley. Caiguna was only one and a half hours away, and when we arrived, we were delighted with the sight of all those trucks parked outside. We knew we were going to get a good bacon and egg sandwich! One thing you have to get used to at the roadhouses, there are prices for truckies, and prices for everyone else. No prizes for guessing who pays the most!

The 46km of road works east of Balladonia gave us plenty of opportunity to stretch our legs when it was our turn to let the traffic through. We had made it all the way to Norseman by 2:30pm, 521km behind us. We stopped at the BP roadhouse for fuel and the comfort of the air conditioned cafe, as the day had warmed up considerably. We spent some time admiring the exhibition of old pioneering photographs. Norseman is a real staging post for travellers heading both east and west. I looked across at the motel where we had spent our first night, and thought "I hope it isn't too long before we pass this way again." But there was no time for sentiment, Kalgoorlie still 190km away! We finally reached Kalgoorlie at 5pm. We pulled into the first caravan park we came to. Booked into a self contained unit and enjoyed a good cold beer or two, before walking into town for an "all you can eat" pizza and roast night, excellent value.

 

Thursday, 5^th April

It isn't all over until the fat lady sings and she sure sung loud and clear on our last day. I left my riding jacket in the caravan park office while we were booking in. Unfortunately we didn't notice it was missing until we were ready to leave. Our first thought was that it had been stolen while we were unloading! Despite polite efforts to contact the office after 7am, and staff arriving at 7:30am, they didn't want to give us the jacket until opening time at 8am! They reluctantly gave Steve the jacket after he stood outside the office looking like thunder. We won't be staying there again! It was going to be a hot day and it hadn't started well. I managed to turn some of the anger to creativity and penned this little ditty while riding along:

 

They must do good tucker at the Yellowdine Roadhouse,

There are more truckies than the eye can see.

Must mark it on my road map and write it in my diary,

Next year when I'm travlin' I will stop for tea.

 

My little Pink Panther mascot has travelled with me for 25 years

We rode on and on. The last mile home can often seem the longest. We got soaked in an isolated thunderstorm as we left Mundaring, and the heavy Easter weekend traffic tested our patience one more time! We finally arrived home at 6:45pm.

To celebrate our home coming there was a huge pile of mail to wade through, the burglar alarm kept going off every two hours, the toilet kept filling up and the blinds kept falling down. As if to say "Welcome back, Steve and Jane, welcome back!"