Devil gave us only one chance to make a quick getaway on the cold morning of Tuesday 13th of September, but we blew that opportunity by stalling her. Our first idea was to try the jump-start technique on our steep driveway, but the rear tyre locked up on all three attempts. The success of the trickle charger seemed hours away but after fifteen minutes Steve gave her another try and Devil sprung to life, it seemed she was looking forward to a life on the road too. In this flurry of activity we nearly pulled out of the driveway leaving the garage door open. We were both able to compose ourselves from this trying moment in the privacy of our own helmets and within an hour we were cruising along the Brookton Highway, home seeming another world away.
Fraser Range Station
We rode the 2000kms from Perth to Ceduna in four straight days camping at Merredin, Fraser Range Station (100km east of Norseman) and Eucla. The wind chill on these cold spring mornings made the riding uncomfortable. When we arrived at Southern Cross, Steve was actually shaking from the cold. Cup-a-soup was an enjoyable reward at lunch time while we warmed our bellies and soothed our chapped hands. We both concluded this was our most challenging Nullarbor crossing by motorcycle.
Head of the Bight
The Southern Right Whales put on a great show at the Head of the Bight and we watched in amazement at least a dozen mothers and their calves in the sheltered waters of the bay. One calf was practicing all his moves like spy hopping, breaching and tail slapping; it was hilarious.
We holed up for a day in Ceduna while it rained, but this is no punishment as the salt and pepper squid and the scallops from the local fish and chip shop are to die for, and the genuine Italian style pizza is not to be missed by any pizza lover.
Nullarbor Plain
Unfortunately the rain caused the caravan park’s resident huntsman spider, who we named Big Ced, to take refuge on the inside of our tent’s fly. I disturbed Ced one night and he fell into the open tent as I was about to climb in. I called to Steve for assistance but while we were rummaging qaround for head lights, Big Ced must have climbed out. After completely emptying the tent and shaking and turning everything inside out a dozen times there was no sign of the spider. Big Ced never turned up again but I think of him sometimes and half expect him to make an appearance at an inopportune moment.
When we leave home on a long motorcycle journey, rain is our worst enemy. Nothing will test our resolve more than riding in the rain and trying to keep water out of our small tent. On Thursday 8th September everything looked rosy for a slow ride from Perth (Western Australia) to Broken Hill (New South Wales), 2850 kilometers. By Friday morning everything had changed. A complex weather system had developed, seems the mere whiff of Devil (F650GS) and Dwarfie (R1200GS) riding across the desert plains to was enough to break the drought single handed. In the shear desperation to get under way, we decided to leave on Saturday, and substitute the slow ride for long days in the saddle, in the hope of staying ahead of the rain.
Devil and Dwarf rearing to go.
When our alarm sounded at 5am on Saturday morning, I bolted out of bed. Adrenalin filled my veins as I both relished and feared the prospect of trying to out run an ugly looking weather system. Steve woke up in a more sensible mood. After a serious consultation with the latest weather information we decided this was no way to begin our ten week road trip on the bikes. Better to stay warm and dry at home until a more suitable outlook appears. Good decision? We will only know with the benefit of hindsight.
While travelling on my motorcycle (The Red Devil, a BMW F650GS
twin) I often get ideas for new songs.
The inspiration for “Six Hundred Outback Miles” came to me
when riding between Barkley Station and Daly Waters in the Northern Territory,
Australia. By the time I arrived at the camp site, the tune and the first verse
were set in stone. Over the next few weeks I had the pleasure of musing with
the lyrics while I enjoyed riding the roads of the Northern Territory and
listening and learning about Aboriginal Culture and Country.
I have just finished recording this song, which is on my
latest album, “Does
it Rhyme?”.
Another motorcycle adventure is about to start next month,
so stay tuned for more blogs.
The Photographs:
Charles Knife Canyon,
Pilbara, Western Australia
Lake Argyle,
Kimberley, Western Australia
Cape Range National Park,
Western Australia
Great Northern
Highway, Pilbara, Western Australia
Great Western Tiers,
Tasmania
A Jump-Up, Channel
Country, Western Queensland
Overlander Roadhouse,
Western Australia
Kata Tjuta (The Olgas),
Northern Territory
Daly Waters, Northern
Territory
Pemberton, South West
Western Australia
Aboriginal Art, Wyndham,
Western Australia
Mt Roland, Tasmania
Playing Music Sticks @
the Katherine Markets, Northern Territory
Campsite Porongurup National
Park, South West Western Australia
Porongurup National
Park, South West Western Australia
Gig @ Kalangadoo
Crafts, Narrikup, South West Western Australia
Uluru (Ayers Rock), Northern
Territory
Aboriginal Rock Art,
Kakadu National Park, Northern Territory
Kimberley, Western
Australia
Kings Canyon, Northern
Territory
Kings Canyon, Northern
Territory
Mabel Downs, Kimberley,
Western Australia
Kakadu National Park,
Northern Territory
Litchfield, Northern
Territory
Kimberley, Western
Australia
Porongurup National
Park, South West Western Australia
I felt delighted with the styling and comfort of my new BMW
Summer Pants, and just to be sure, I tested the conversion from pants to shorts
and back again before I left the dealer showroom. The proof of the pudding is
always in the eating, so the following day I decided to take my new jeans on a 500km
run from Safety Bay (Western Australia) to Porongurup. My Ulysses Motorcycle Club
bear came along for the ride, too, as he had been nagging me for some time about
a badge for his riding jacket; like everyone else, Bear’s got to earn his
stripes too.
Bear at Donnybrook
The air temperature was 24°C
and the jeans felt comfortable and were breathing well all the way to our first
pit stop at Donnybrook. The cargo pockets are great, although I would prefer a velcro
fastening instead of press studs. It was nice to see that I stopped worrying
about my keys as they were safely stowed away in a zipped hip pocket. The velcro ankle strap is worth its weight in
gold and easily kept the jeans off the ground and stopped them from riding up.
It warmed up for the next leg to Manjimup, my temperature gauge
nudging 32°C.
Not far out of Bridgetown, a crow decided to test the hip protection and
slapped me on the right. Sadly the bird lay stone dead in the road but the armour
did its job and I don’t even have a slight bruise to help tell the story; I was
starting to think “I was meant to buy these jeans.”
I felt warm in my jeans while I sipped tea in Manjimup, but
I was smiling in the sure knowledge that if I’d been going for a walk around
the township, I’d just convert my Summer Pants to shorts and be pretty dam
comfortable.
Some nice back roads
While the farming folk were home enjoying lunch in the cool
of their farmhouse kitchens, we rode on to Porongurup. Although the sun was
lighting the way, it was hot on our backs and I started to understand why there
were venting holes in the knee armour. We stopped at Rocky Gully to hydrate
once more and I was hot in those jeans, but I would have felt hot in any jeans.
In summary, I’m loving my new Summer Pants, I haven’t washed
them yet but with a two year warranty they’ve got the tick from me.
Bear showing off his Albany Commemorative pin
PS It seems that commemorative pins are out of fashion in
small towns like Porongurup, so Bear had to ride on to Albany before he could
find a pin for his riding jacket.
After several years and many kilometres Steve’s favourite touring
helmet, an OGK Aeroblade II was looking worse for wear. So after a full day of
checking out the local shops and trying on heaps of helmets a decision was
finally made. A new Kabuto (previously OGK) Aeroblade 3 Maverick White/Red was
purchased.
This is what Steve had to say:
The Aeroblade 3 is a great improvement from my previous
Aeroblade II. I was always happy with my previous lid, but after four trips
across the Nullarbor, and 80,000 kilometres, it was well past the time to
change.
I took the new helmet for its first ride today, we did a favourite
loop of 200 kms. Heading east from our house soon puts you on some quiet back
roads where you can make your way to the Darling Range for some twisties. A
coffee stop at the Blue
Wren Cafe, Dwellingup, a great bikers joint. Then back down the range to
Waroona, along the flats to the Harvey Estuary and lunch stop at the Bouvard Tavern. Then back home along
the coast. A tough way to spend your day!
So what about the helmet:
Just as good a fit and comfort as the old OGK (obviously
depends on the shape of your head).
The helmet is very light (very noticeable when turning
head). It seemed to be one of the lightest available.
Seems like very good aerodynamics, very little buffeting riding
the Red Dwarf (R1200GS, so an upright seating position).
Great ventilation, never before had a helmet where I could
feel the air over the top of my head.
Very quiet (more so when vents shut).
I think the new Aerobalde 3 is a vast improvement on an
already good helmet. It’s lighter, quieter, better ventilated and with improved
aerodynamics. I’m very happy with the purchase, so if you’re in the market for
a new lid, check out the Kabuto Aeroblade 3.
Red Devil (BMW F650GS) and Red Dwarf (BMW R1200GS) pulled out of our
driveway early on a Sunday morning in late August, both bikes dressed to the
nines with camping gear, and Steve and I smiling from ear to ear in
anticipation of a three week ride to North West Cape, the north-western tip of Australia.
Sunday's aren't as quiet on the road as they used to be and we had fun snaking
our way through the early morning traffic. The chilly 9°C had me switching my
heated grips to full bore and within the hour we had made our way to the northern
end of the freeway and were drinking tea and enjoying a bacon and egg roll at a
roadside restaurant. Fulfilled and refreshed, we rode northwards amongst the
wheat fields while bees made a mess of our visors and we developed a healthy
respect for those who ride with no visor at all.
Green Head
We camped for a couple of nights at Green Head to walk amongst the
wildflowers in Stockyard Gully and Lesueur National Parks. Then it was onwards
and upwards, taking the Indian Ocean Drive and the Chapman Valley Road, to the
historic town of Northampton. In Northampton we met Tim Spiteri and his
partner Jo Noesgaard. Tim is a modern day adventurer, currently riding a
bicycle around the country. Last year Tim was part of a team rowing across the
Indian Ocean; thanks for the inspiration, Tim, we need folks like you to remind
us what is truly possible.
Overlander Roadhouse
On the road from Northampton to Carnarvon, the bees were replaced with
butterflies, and they made a mess of our visors too, but it didn't matter as we
were enjoying our ride along the North West Coastal Highway. At times we had to
slow down for the great wedge-tailed eagles that were pecking at the latest
road kill. There are hundreds of travellers on the road these days and we had
to queue for fuel at Overlander Roadhouse; $1.80/lt for unleaded petrol made me
smile in the sure knowledge that we had arrived in the outback. We stopped for
a while, just hanging out with the bikes, and watched the road trains
thundering by.
Apparently the fruit and vegetable farms around Carnarvon provide 70%
of Western Australia's total requirement but more importantly, as a traveller,
Carnarvon is home to one of the best fish and chip shops in the state. We built
our own seafood basket for two at Westcoast
Fish 'n' Chips with one serve of snapper, eight prawns and eight
scallops; all fresh and truly to die for.
Six-pack habit
We don't have refrigeration when we go camping with Devil and Dwarf so
at around 4pm each day we would wonder over to the nearest grog shop and return
with a cold six-pack to keep us amused and smiling until dinner time. This
ritual became known as our six-pack habit and we enjoyed beers from the big
brewers to boutique establishments, depending on what was on special.
Six-Pack
Habit
I've gotta six-pack habit when I'm on the
road,
Where I headin' know body knows.
When the sun goes down I'll be sittin'
around,
With my six-pack habit in some outback
town.
North West Cape lighthouse
At Minilya Roadhouse the road forks left for those travelling to
Exmouth and this quiet run through the desert is interesting and fun with a few
curves to keep bike riders amused. On the approach into town we were warned to
lookout for sheep hanging around on the road verges and sure enough we spotted
our first woolly inhabitant 50km out of town. This unexpected desert dwelling
herd kept us on our toes for the last half hour of the ride.
We spent five nights in Exmouth enjoying Ningaloo and Cape Range
National Park. We took Devil and Dwarf for a run to Yardie Creek and a swim at
Turquoise Bay. Only Dwarf went on the 4WD only ride through the gorge at Shot
Hole Canyon. Riding pillion, I could enjoy the towering gorge walls without the
anxiety of dropping Devil in one of the stony creek beds.
Jane and Hini
In Exmouth we met Hini
Krutzfeldt. Hini shipped his BMW F800GS from Germany to Perth in July 2015 and
will be riding around the country until November. Hini is an adventurer rider
and street racer and we had great conversations at dinner time. I will always
remember Hini whenever I reverse down a steep slope using the clutch (with the
engine switched off) instead of struggling with the rear brake when the front brake
won't grip.
The Red Dwarf, Shothole Canyon, Cape Range National Park
On our way south I fell in love with the snorkelling and the laid back
lifestyle at Coral Bay. We didn't take a snorkelling tour; we just launched
ourselves off the beach and let the current take us for a drift over the coral
reef. We had anchored our Sparkman and Stephens 34 foot yacht, Roma II, at Pt
Maud, one nautical mile north of Coral Bay, on 16th September 1993. We enjoyed
a walk along the beach to the place where we had been before. According to our
ships log we had waited six days for the wind to drop below 25knots.
With the sun behind us we had an easy ride back to Carnarvon, to
restock the pantry pannier, and then took ourselves for a bikers look at Shark
Bay.
We had our first bad travellers experience at Hamelin Pool Caravan Park
(after over 100,000 kms of motorcycle travels). On returning from a short walk to the
old shell quarry, there was a note tucked onto my bike asking us to "come
and pay for our showers as showers are for paying customers only." We had
not been near the toilets or the showers so Steve took the note back to the tea
rooms and informed the girls that we hadn't had a shower. They accusingly replied,
"Someone told us you had." They never apologised for insulting a
couple of bikers, they just kept saying, "Someone told us you had used the
showers." There was evidence that they had tried to take our riding
jackets as ransom, fortunately they were locked onto Steve's bike. I hate to
think about the outcome had they taken our jackets. Well, Hamelin Pool Caravan Park, we'll be
spreading the word on your incompetent hospitality skills, and advising
everyone we meet not to give you the time of day.
Compulsory photo of Dolphin at Monkey Mia
Monkey Mia is a must see for Western Australians and we were lucky, on
the morning of our visit, seven dolphins came to play at the sanctuary. These
days the dolphins are only fed a snack sized fish and it is wonderful to see that
the dolphins visit Monkey Mia to enjoy the people interaction and nothing more.
The weather turned against us when we were ready to ride for home so
we holed up in Kalbarri to let the wind and the rain pass through. Then we were
on the road for our last days ride, looking forward to the comforts of home and
at the same time savouring the last moments of a thoroughly enjoyable three
weeks camping with Devil and Dwarf; something deep within the soul told us
"this is how we should be living."
One look at the
radar to confirm the severity of the thunder storms tramping through the South West
and we delayed our departure for twenty four hours. Although we were
disappointed, we knew if we were caught out in a severe thunder squall we'd be
wishing, harder than we'd ever wished before, we'd found some patience.
We were riding away
from the city's streets by 8am. A few spots of rain collected on my visor but I
didn't let them dampen my mood, instead I tuned in to the gentle purring sound
that Devil (BMW F650GS) makes when I'm listening through a set of disposable
ear plugs. In the heat of summer it was a joy to ride under a cloudy sky. A
quick burst on the freeway and we were slinking our way along Patterson Road
all the way to Pinjarra. A windmill confirmed there was not even a zephyr
stirring the air and we knew we had made the transition to country culture when
a ute pulled into a servo outside Harvey carrying two large hay bales in the
tray.
Just another truck.
Timing is
everything, even down to who you follow along the highway, and unbeknownst to us
we pulled out a few kilometres behind a dump truck carrying a skip full of
rubbish. The stink was in the wind and up our noses for over 20km before we rid
ourselves of the offending vehicle. We weren't complaining though, as one of
the wonders of motorcycle riding is you are fully immersed in the environment
you ride in.
We brunched at the
Apple Pie Bakery in Donnybrook and then we were on the road again, enjoying our
own thoughts and dreams as we rode along. From Bridgetown we found Winnejup Rd,
a country lane, at times only wide enough for a single vehicle, before joining the
Boyup Brook - Cranbrook Rd for the run into Frankland. There were a few trucks
on this stretch of road but the first truckie must have made a call on the
radio because all the others kept well to the left.
Porongurup National Park.
There is a great
rest area in Frankland and we took the opportunity to hydrate and educate
ourselves about the local area. The map on the tourist board indicated that
Bunbury was only 104km away. A spirited discussion erupted around the bikes
until a map was produced proving that Bunbury was more like 200km away.
When the Stirling
Range appeared as we approached the Albany Highway we knew we were nearing our
destination at Porongurup. We had cruised along all day in near perfect
conditions with only pot holes full of water to remind us of the storms from raged
the day before. Dwarfie (BMW R1200GS) went ahead to open the gate for me and as
I eased Devil down the gravel driveway I noticed I was singing a few lines from
the old classic "What A Difference A Day Makes."
