July 28, 2013 by foonbikeride

Are you lost?

Boroloola to Mataranka via the Limmen National Park

The beginning of the toughest section

I’m sitting in a shaded area of the Territory Manor caravan park in Mataranka. It’s midafternoon and Astrid has just put on the water for the 6^th cup of tea of the day. We are with some new friends, Liz and Scott (who have cycled here from Kangaroo Island) and a relaxed quietness has come over us, which is rare and special with people you have just met. I am feeling exceedingly happy, the reality of dust and corrugations from the last few weeks is already beginning to fade.

Relaxing and tea

Moving back the wheel, southern lost city

Let’s go back to the dust however. We left Borroloola feeling somewhat refreshed, filled with anticipation (and an alarming amount of fried eggs) about what lay ahead. This section – Borroloola to Roper Bar is set to be the most challenging so far. Firstly, it’s 400km without services, which means carrying 7 days worth of food and about 30 L of water most days, although we will obviously be able pick up fresh water from the rivers as we go along. Furthermore, we have heard many reports about the road being in terrible condition, so we really don’t know how many km’s we will be able to cover in a day.

I did manage to fall off during one river crossing!

As soon as we turned off the tarmac and were once again on the unsealed Savannah way I noticed a change in the landscape. It took me a few minutes to put my finger on it, but then I realised that this part of the Savannah way primarily runs through the Limmen National park. The difference is quite remarkable. Although the scenery is much the same, open woodland, savannah, termite mounds and rivers, the country looks a lot less worn. I can only surmise that this is due to the absence of cattle in the national park (although there are some feral buffalo). Much of the previous Savannah way traversed through large cattle stations.

mornings are the best out here

It certainly was a pleasant change cycling through this lusher, greener country. Unfortunately it wasn’t long until the fresh feeling disappeared with the rising temperatures. We are both feeling generally fatigued now, which is compounded by the tough roads and hot weather. It’s nothing that a week or two off the bike wouldn’t fix; Darwin is certainly in our consciousness now. Luckily we reached Battern Creek early and had plenty of time to relax, drink tea and read before needing to swing into our evening routine.

another amazing morning

It’s taken us a while, but our morning routine now runs like a finely oiled machine (most of the time) and we usually pedal out of camp at 0700. Mostly this has to do with the unpleasantness of riding in the heat of the day, which we can’t completely avoid, but at least this way we get a few hours of coolish cycling. Some days on the road just suck and that second day out of Borroloola certainly tested us. It started off fine for me, but Astrid was really suffering from the word go. She described her bum as being excruciatingly painful (like someone poking it with knives) to the point of tears (and Astrid is one tough lady). This made coping with the corrugations, heat and thoughtless drivers that showered us in dust almost unbearable. My heart really went out to her and although I tried to help, I think I didn’t quite succeed in my efforts. When Astrid is down, it tends to infect me, which is not helpful and I need to find the thing inside me that can rise above that, to actually be of some use. It’s something that Astrid does a lot better than me.

The afternoon wore on and the cycling got worse. It was a constant zigzag across the road to avoid the corrugations and bulldust pits. Our hourly km’s plummeted to a dismal 10-12km and we were often walking through deep sand. To top it off, as I hit a particular bit of loose sand the Green Fairy began to wobble so I decided to bail, putting my foot down. Unfortunately I had misjudged my speed and the weight of the bike and that momentum caused me to have an intimate relationship with the ground and my whole right side was covered in fine dust. Until that moment I had been holding it together but the fall bought me unstuck and I shed a few tears of exhaustion and frustration before pulling myself together.

This became a habit of mine

To our great appreciation, not long after the dust pit encounter a kind traveller pulled up to have a chat and then presented us with two ice-cold beers. I can’t describe how great it tasted. It seemed after that our luck turned and we finally reached our camp at the “southern lost city” after 8 hours on the go. “Lost cities’ are pillar like rock structures that started forming 150 million years ago when vast parts of Australia were beneath an inland sea. They looked beautiful as we set up camp to the setting sun but it was the next morning that we really got to appreciate them. We were up and walking amongst these spectacular formations just as the sun was rising. What made it even more beautiful was that everything was shrouded in a fine mist. It gave the whole place and eerie, magical feel and I really felt I was walking on an ancient land. Both of us agreed the previous day of doom had been worth it to see this.

southern lost city was worth the day of doom

The southern lost city

view of Western lost city

The day continued to be such a contrast to the previous one. First of all Astrid had a hilarious encounter with a Dingo that darted out in front of her and then continued to watch her as it proceeded to run straight into a tree. Ah, Astrid and the animals. First a head on with a kangaroo, now causing a poor Dingo to run into a tree! Secondly, our day of cycling ended after about 30km as we had decided to stop at Butterfly Springs. What a gorgeous spot. A real oasis in this often harsh and dry landscape. The source is a natural spring and the water cascades down a small waterfall into a clear pool, with a sandy floor. Just off to the side is a rock wall, covered in hundreds of butterflies. We spent the day by the spring, our water filtering by in a tree (loving the gravity fed filter), reading, writing and napping (my personal favourite).

Butterfly Springs

Butterfly Springs

A half day off is nearly as good as a rest day and we set off early, ready for corrugations, dust and sand. The morning treated us kindly with only moderately bad roads. But this is Australia, which means we better mine the fuck out of everything, and where better to put a mine but in the middle of a national park? For us this translated into absolutely shocking roads (think walking through massive sand pits and endless corrugation) thanks to the mining vehicles chewing up the surface. While most workers passed us (showering us in dust) a dude in a massive crane thing pulled up alongside us and shouted out the window,

“Are you girls lost?”

Astrid said, “No, are you?”

Evidently they found us quite amusing and ended up giving us a big bag of assorted fruit and muesli bars. Needless to say we were delighted.

St Vidgeon’s ruins

Roper River

Lying next to a fire beside the Towns River (far away enough from the crocs) and looking up at sky filled with stars in the middle of the outback fills me with such peace. Life is simple now (even more than before) and is filled with achieving our basic needs; finding somewhere to sleep, finding water, collecting fire wood, filtering water, cooking, pedalling. Rest periods are filled with writing, reading and observing nature (unless we meet some friendly nomads). The ebb and flow of this existence and its meditative simplicity is something I treasure. Like all things in life, it will pass. Soon we will be back on the highway, there will be more distractions, more people. Then Darwin, full of friends and family. I look forward to those changes as well as appreciating the magic of what we have now.

Yep!

The joey at Tomato Island

After Towns River it was onward to shiny Tomato Island, a new camp ground recently opened by Parks NT. It was right beside the Roper River and the ranger was raising an orphaned joey that we briefly got to babysit. What a gorgeous creature. We both fell in love. I also got to see my first crocodile, which was kind of thrilling. These prehistoric creatures have been on our consciousness for weeks now and it was almost a relief to see one because when it saw us it reversed off the riverbank and swam away. Probably that’s mostly what they do, only out here you are constantly aware of stories about people being eaten and stalked by crocs. They had become a kind of monster in my mind.

red dust got everywhere!

Shit road/sandpit

The anti-climax

The whole way on this section of the Savannah way we have been following signs to ‘Roper Bar’. It was where we could next pick up supplies and where we would know that the hardest part was over. To us it had become a destination. What an anti climax. I know we are in southern Arnhem Land, I get that it’s remote but Roper Bar was really rather lame. Just an overpriced general store down a 3km stretch of road with nothing in between (why the 3km?!) and a camping ground not even anywhere near the store. The highlight was eating a 2L tub of ice cream to celebrate completing the most challenging part of the journey so far. And we did get to see a road train stranded on the actual bar, which was kind of entertaining.

Yep, we ate it all

Road train goes to fast across Roper Bar

The next day and a half of riding into Mataranka was a bit of a slog. We had come through the scenic and difficult part and now we just wanted to be there, soaking in the hot springs and drinking a beer. The cycling was hot and we were both in need of a rest day. We did have a bit of a celebration on reaching the bitchumen! What a bloody relief. I’m definitely happy not to see corrugations or sand for a while! Finally, mid morning of the second day we hit the Stuart highway. It felt amazing. Half way across the country on the toughest roads either of us had ever cycled. The dust, corrugations, fatigue and sand of the last few weeks paled in comparison to our sense of excitement and achievement. Things only got better as down the road we not only met Graham and Gilda again but also another cycle touring couple, Liz and Scott. We were delighted. There is something truly wonderful about meeting people that instantly get you because they are doing exactly the same thing. No explaining, no crazy looks. They had even heard about us from other travellers. It’s that minor celebrity thing again, which is quite funny. It appears not that many women cycle the Savannah way.

The tarmac!!

We are grimy from the road

From Bruce to Stuart!

Without much hesitation we all went and did our shopping (wow so much food!) and then sat in the park and the six of us shared a 2L tub of icecream. It goes without saying really that the rest of afternoon was spent in the shade, sipping beers and sharing stories. What wonderful, like-minded people Liz, Scott, Graham and Gilda are. An incredible way to end this section of our adventure.

love

Jude

Made it! Relaxing with friends from the road, Mataranka

July 21, 2013 by foonbikeride

The long, hard, dusty road.

Leichardt Falls to Boroloola

The long, dusty, corrugated roads.

So I’m riding down this road. It’s a beautiful afternoon and the sun is shining that awesome golden colour that it does on certain days. I’m dreaming about the bakery treats I’ll soon be eating and life is fine. That is until I have a head on with a kangaroo. I don’t know about you, but one does not expect to have a head on with a kangaroo when one is riding a bike. Yep, Jude happily rides passed the roo and scares it, so that it jumps out onto the road in front of me. We see each other, it skids, I scream and slam on the breaks, and we collide – the dirty salmon hits the kangaroo in the rump. Luckily all three of us survive unharmed – the roo, the bike and me.

The hot artesian spring at Burketown.

In comparison, the rest of the ride into Burketown was pretty uneventful. We spent most of the time talking about all the nice things we would soon be eating. Being from Melbourne we love good food. We have been somewhat deprived of late, considering the main delicacies available out here would make the heart foundation tick explode from obesity. For hundreds of kilometres, we had heard rumour of a bakery food oasis in Burketown, and it didn’t disappoint. We had two pies each and a can of lemonade. This was followed up by lamingtons and berry cheesecake. Yes, we were very Australian that day. Heavenly.

Our first Darwin sign.

Our indulgence was also fuelled by the knowledge that the next day we would be heading off on the first of our two long distance sections that would have little to no services. Despite the long distances, intermittent dirt roads, the heat, and the road trains, the Savannah Way has so far been smooth sailing. I must admit that I have at times been a little daunted by the next 800km. Corrugated dirt road the whole way, would my bum and body survive? Would we have access to enough water, as there was no wet this year? Would all of our preparations be enough? This would be the first real test of our outback abilities. Then I had a flashback to woman who cried out hysterically “their mad!” as we left Leichardt Falls. I laughed and knew I was ready.

Some of the corrugations.

I wont bore you with the blow by blow details of the next six days and 500ks, as a lot of it was hard riding in the dirt, dust and heat. Our route took us through Doomagee and Hell’s Gate, over the NT border, through a valley and many rivers, passed Robinson River and on to Borroloola. I will tell you about the little things that made the ride worthwhile, amusing or just plain annoying.

The NT border.

Nerida, Tony and Graham.

The nomads. Grey or otherwise, the nomads are a permanent fixture on the Savannah Way. When they roar passed me on the dirt road, at 80km/hr in their 4WD towing a caravan, showering me in dust and gravel, I’m not a fan. And while they have no consideration for our comfort and wellbeing, they actually wave to us and expect us to wave back – I shake my head and say under my breath “I don’t think so dickhead”. Fortunately, the generosity, humour and joy de vivre of the others, makes me forget the rest. While pedaling, we have had many people stop to chat and offer us water. During the evenings we have had the pleasure of company by communal fires and have been spoilt by a handful of very generous souls. Marcela and Joe sustained us with apple cider and home made banana cake, Sue and Morrie made us endless cups of tea at Hell’s Gate, Bevan gifted us a toast fork for using on the fire, Lydia and Toby gifted us fresh trevally and salmon for our dinners, Graham and Gilda made us freshly ground coffee, Nerida and Tony spoilt us thoroughly with oranges, cheese, beer and dinner, as did Susan, Tom, Cliff and Pam who fulfilled my one month craving for watermelon, and cared for our every need at the side of the Robinson River. We are constantly in awe of the generosity towards us and thank everyone.

Camping with a fire nightly.

Happy Birthday Pam!

The lord lovers. Not far out of Burketown a 4WD pulled up next to me. In it were 5 people all dressed in neatly pressed shirts and all wearing Akubra hats. Odd I thought, but who am I to judge. I’m dressed in thermals riding across the dessert. We chatted for a bit and like us they were heading to Doomagee. As they were about to pull off, I was asked if I would like a magazine to read in my spare time. Why not I thought? Why not? Because I was handed two copies of the Jehovas Witness magazine. Onwards Christian soldiers I thought. On the bright side, they did make great kindling for the fires we had the next few nights.

The Doomagee Shire.

Aboriginal communities. I can say that racism and third world standards of living are still a constant presence in northern Queensland and NT. Perceptions, even those few based in truth, can lead to prejudices that are hard to break. Everyone had advice to give us, and most of it was negative about the people and places. We didn’t know what to expect, but like with most advice, it should be taken with a large grain of salt. As we rode towards Doomagee and Borroloola, all the locals driving cars smiled and waved enthusiastically (we love it when people are excited by what we are doing). They were also the most considerate drivers, who gave us a wide berth when passing and slowed right down to not shower us in rocks and dust.

Happy our bikes haven’t ended up like that one.

Doomagee is a dry community, so the locals drink at an area known as ‘the family tree’. I must say that I felt as if I had ridden into a Mad Max movie. The area had recently been burnt, and there were thousands of beer cans and bottles strewn all over the ground. Thankfully, Doomagee township was not like a Mad Max movie. Despite the poor quality housing, that also exists in the Borroloola communities, new communal infrastructure was to been seen throughout the town. We didn’t meet all that many locals in town, but the previous night we had met Cyril. He had come to see where we were, as he had driven passed us earlier in the day and wanted to have a chat with the two girls on bikes. Not a sight often seen in the area, as he informed us. He was great fun and we chatted for ages. Our experience of aboriginal communities was brief but overall, positive.

The Calvert River crossing.

You can see the effects of the wet on the trees around the rivers.

Crocodiles. All rivers in northern Queensland and NT have warning signs about crocodiles. So far we have seen only one from a distance while we were having a wash in one of the many river crossings we have traversed. I’m always super cautious whenever we go for a dip, cross any river or camp anywhere near water. When selecting which side of the tent to sleep on, I’m always torn about who should have the side closest to the river. Do I want to be the first to be eaten, or do I let Jude be the one who is chomped on first? Jude says I have ‘crocodile paranoia’. I know I shouldn’t be as worried as her, as they always eat the German’s first, but I am.

Half day rest day at Calvert Creek.

Another river crossing.

The road. It tickles my fancy that this highly corrugated piece of dirt track, with numerous bulldust and sand pits, that has many river crossings, and rarely has any upkeep, is considered the National Highway 1 – the same as the Princes, Pacific and Bruce Highways. The road on the Queensland side is by far the worst, and I did feel as if I was in a milkshake maker for most of the journey. We have pedaled on quite a few dirt roads thus far, but nothing compared to this. Our normal speed halved, purely due to the shit quality of the road. Then on the last day we decided to push hard, and cycle 105km, to make it to Borroloola by that evening. We reached the Spring Creek Station turn-off, and were feeling tired and hot. Another 28ks seemed like a lot, but the road hadn’t been all that bad. BIG MISTAKE! This was by far the worst section of road I have ever ridden on. The roads in Timor Leste looked like new highways compared to this. Most of the time you can pick a line of the road that is better than the rest, but not this one. 28km of non-stop, body jolting corrugations, with gravel and big rocks as a base. My body, and especially my bum, felt every metre it bounced and grinded over. An ice-cream, a hot shower, a rest day tomorrow, four beers and an ‘all you can eat’ dinner, has “just” made that last 28km worthwhile.

Nice scenery while riding the road.

More dirt…

Jude is happy with an ‘all you can eat’ meal.

My bum. Last time I wrote about my bum, it had taken revenge on the saddle by breaking it. Well the saddle has retaliated many times over. You would think after three months of riding I would have developed callouses as thick as Buddha’s under the Bodhi Tree. This is not the case. Unfortunately the more I pedal the less padding I have to cushion the area, and some days my saddle sores make me wish that I had some Lignocaine gel or EMLA patches to put on my bum – especially with the corrugations. Jude took a photo for me the other day and I almost fainted at what I saw. I’m hoping that maybe a few more years of riding will help me reach nirvana on a bike seat.

So there you have it, the highs and lows of cycle touring. I have really been challenged, but I would not change our new life for anything. This is still by far the best thing I have ever done in my life. With that thought and all our love, I leave you to yours, Astrid xx

Cooking up the fish we were gifted.

July 12, 2013 by foonbikeride

Turning Left

Townsville (Alligator Creek campground) to Leichardt Falls via the Savannah Way

Leichardt Falls

I’m sitting in a place called Leichardt Falls, the sun is shining softly though the trees (its about 27 degrees) and the water on the stove is just coming to a boil. It’s one of those leisurely rest days, where breakfast blends into lunch and time is marked by cups of tea. We are camped on the top of what is a waterfall in the wet season, overlooking the Leichardt River. Kites glide in the sky high above us and occasionally another camper’s voice carries to us on the breeze. It’s peaceful here and after doing 117km of dirt road yesterday, it’s a perfect place for a rest. But I am jumping ahead and will go back to the beginning of our time in the outback.

Choice spot, Leichardt Falls

The epic left turn was finally upon us as we pedalled out of Alligator Creek, bidding farewell to Ash and Sophie with plans to meet again on the road or in Darwin. This turn inland towards Darwin was always going to be the most challenging part of the trip and at times has intimidated me. For weeks we weren’t even sure which road we would take, just that at some point we needed to chuck a left. But after a bit of research, map studying and date and kilometer crunching, it was decided we would turn left at Townsville on the Hervey Range Development road, followed by the Gregory Development road and onto the Savannah way at The Lynd. This would take us through Einsleigh and Forsayth and then up to Georgetown where we would stay on the Savannah way (which connects Cairns to Broome) until Mataranka (hot springs!) where we would finally turn north up the Stuart highway, cycling via Kakadu to Darwin.

The epic left turn!

top of the Hervey range

The actual left turn wasn’t that epic, as we found ourselves cycling through Townsville suburbs, but it didn’t take long for the buildings to disappear and the land to subtly change; the appearance of termite mounds and a generally drier landscape. As we cycled, the Hervey Range grew larger and we were mildly alarmed, as we had been warned that we would need to push our bikes in order to ascend. This might be true if the idea of cycling 5kms causes you anxiety (exercise seems a foreign concept to a lot of the Queenslanders we have met recently) but for us it was easy, nowhere near as hard as Eungella! At the top of the range we had a great view right to the ocean and to our delight a camping spot presented itself just another 2km down the road, right opposite to some Heritage Tearooms.

Heritage tea rooms on top of the Hervey Range

Giant scones of joy

cycling up the Hervey Range

Tearooms are a bit like camping at the base of a mountain you can climb up. You can’t just camp next to a place that makes Devonshire tea and not partake. So we patiently waited till 9am to eat the biggest scones I have ever seen. I was almost full. The day was spent climbing the rolling hills that are the northern end of the Great dividing range, carrying an extra 30L of water as there was nothing between us and the Bluewater springs roadhouse, about 115km away. Our camp was made 6km from the Gregory road turn off at what could be interpreted as a rest stop. It had a table, so we were happy. We built a fire and watched the super moon rise over a clear sky. A brilliant start to our outback journey.

the ‘supermoon’

a table is always a luxury, camping on the Hervey Ranage road

At The Lynd where we joined the Savannah Way

The next day we were up early and pedalling keenly towards the roadhouse. I have decided to embrace all the greasiness associated with roadhouse food in my mind. So I was imagining all the horrible things I could eat (yes, I am totally food obsessed) and was rather disappointed to find a lack of greasy food on display on our arrival. On our way to the roadhouse we had ridden through a lot of roadwork and gotten some mixed responses from the workers; from blank stares of confusion, encouragement, and being videoed on i phones. It’s funny, people either completely get what we are doing, and why, or just think we are totally crazy. The people that get it, don’t really need an explanation, and the people that don’t, probably will never understand. I don’t really care if people think we are crazy (although it does get a bit tiring hearing it over and over again) it’s all a matter of perspective. People that buy big houses they can’t really afford and fill it with stuff seem crazy to me. Anyway, not long after leaving the roadhouse we were chased down by a farmer on a quad bike who wanted to have a chat. We told him our story and he told us about farming and travelling through Africa in the 1970’s. Its those kind of interactions that are so unique to cycle touring which I really treasure.

It was hot and the road kept throwing up hill after hill and the rolling resistance was high, making our progress slow and painful. Lunch time raised our spirits as some kind travellers (who totally got what we were doing) gifted us a loaf of bread (we had not been able to buy any) and we chatted with them and their kids for a while. All this improved my mood and then thankfully the road deteriorated, which meant it was smoother and faster for us. We reached Greenvale after nearly 120km where we were greeted by a myriad of people who had passed us or who we had chatted to during the day on the road. Then it was time for a much needed shower (I was covered in a thin layer of grime). This was followed by an equally important beverage(s) at the pub.

the mirror is great for traffic, especially while listening to tunes!

Due to some issues with my rohloff, which were sorted after a few phone calls to Commuter Cycles, we left Greenvale a little later than ideal. Lunch was at the Oasis roadhouse, where the kind woman behind the counter gave us an icecream after she heard we were cycling to Darwin. Here we also filled our water and hit the dirt road. It wasn’t too bad and we made camp about 30km down the road at a river, built a fire and prepared to relax in the quiet of the outback. Then the nomads with caravans and a generator turned up. My pet hate of this trip so far is definitely the hum of a generator in surroundings that would otherwise be serene. I can deal with it if it’s for a short while and quiet, but these were not. Still, even generators can’t spoil the fact that we now leave the fly off the tent which means every night we fall asleep while gazing at the starlight sky. Definitely something I will treasure forever.

Jude and the Green Fairy v’s the road train

We rolled out of camp and bumped up the road until we reached the very small (pop. 32 people) town of Einsleigh. The pub was the main feature of the town and we met some friendly locals who did their best to try and convince us to stay. We even got offered a job! I don’t think they see many women out here. If we hadn’t our Darwin goal, I reckon it would have been fun for a week or two. Instead we went for a nudie swim in the beautiful Copperfield gorge (totally worth it and free, unlike Cobbold gorge) and then bid everyone farewell. I have come to realize that 2 beers in the afternoon doesn’t lead to pleasant cycling afterwards. We slowly began climbing the Newcastle range as well, which added to my generalised, but thankfully brief, hating of everything. Soon the light started turning golden and we searched for somewhere hidden to camp. This part of the day really is magnificent in this country, the harshness goes out of the sun and the land is bathed in soft light after the sun sinks below the horizon. It always makes me feel at peace and is relief from the heat of the day. That night we discovered the excellent feeling of nudie stretching to the setting sun.

Copperfield Gorge, Einsleigh

Afternoon beer, Einsleigh Hotel

The road became bitchumen as we got closer to our next small town, Forsayth, the following morning. I was having a tough time of it and was feeling more hungry than normal. Most of the ride I spent fantasising about cold rock icecream. What I wouldn’t have done for a delicious icecreamy treat! Luckily things took a turn for the better when we arrived in Forsayth. There we met Graham and Nicky who ran a bed and breakfast in a charming turn of last centuary Queenslander. Think; large balcony surrounding the house, cool breezy rooms and really beautiful architecture. An oasis in the outback and a unique find for out here. I thought I can picture myself sipping beer on that porch. We had just checked in to have a cup of tea but when Graham offered us a really cheap rate to stay the night it didn’t take us long to decide an afternoon off would do us good. I did spend the afternoon sipping beer and reading my book, but Astrid got to work pruning the hedge for Nicky because she has been missing gardening so much. An added benefit of being in Forsayth that day was that the Savannahlander (a train that runs from Cairns to Forsayth) was turning up in town and that locals could go on it while it did a loop and turned around. So Astrid and I and a bunch of local kids leaped on the train with glee while it did it’s turning around. We were then treated to the most delicious dinner thanks to Graham. It was so exciting to have vegetables and salad again! There has not been much in the realm of fresh produce out here so far. It really was a treat staying with Nicky and Graham who are both such wonderful people.

Graham and Nicky and their beautiful B&B, Forsayth.

Loving the gardening, Forsayth

The Savannahlander, old time train from Cairns to Forsayth.

We reached Georgetown in the morning the next day and stocked up on fresh produce and water and headed onward to Gilbert River, 75km down the road. Unfortunately Gilbert river had no water in it and the rest stop was nothing more than a dust bowl. We had planned to have a much needed full rest day here but soon decided to push on the next day to Croydon. Luckily Croydon was the goods. Something I have forgotten to mention earlier is that my mum has been sending “care packages” to us along to way, consisting of her amazing dehydrated wares and usually a few extra treats. In Croydon we were delighted to pick up another package and especially excited to see the 4 blocks of Lindt chocolate we has been sent. I may have accidently eaten an entire block in about 10 mins. The caravan park in Croydon was cheap, with free laundry, “beer and bullshit” around the fire at 5pm, and a pool. Rob, who manages the place was a top bloke and he along with some of the other gentlemen convinced us to come to the pub (which had just reopened that day post a scandal and the publican being made to leave town) for “two beers”. Somehow that turned into about seven.

Cows eat cars!

loving a rest day, Croydon

Croydon Hotel

On this trip I have really glimpsed another way of life, of taking the slow road and finding a peaceful existence in amongst the rush of modern life. There are people out here who have made the road their home, who stop at weeks for places because they meet people they like or find a place they are particularly fond of. They have no real end date or destination and I feel like that may be the ultimate freedom. There were three guys at Croydon that we met that were like that and it was a pleasure to spend time with them over cups of tea on our rest day. We also met a young guy, Liam who has been hitch hiking around Australia for the last 16 months or so. He had so many interesting stories and like us has the distinct impression, contrary to popular belief, that most people in the world aren’t rapists or serial killers. Although I don’t really feel like we are rushing I think we are both inspired to explore Australia at an even slower pace in the future.

Jabiru

After Croydon a strong tail wind helped us across the flat Savannah land 128km further west to Leichardt Lagoon. This was a friendly Grey nomad city and we were greeted with collective curiosity and then received some wonderful hospitality from our neighbors. They encouraged us to use their stove and gave us some red wine, which we drank while watching the sunset with them. The only downside was falling asleep to the hum of generators.

Normanton train station

Normanton was only 26km or so up the road so we headed there the next day to pick up supplies, make some phone calls and use the internet. They have a truly great information Centre and library with really reasonably priced wifi, which has been extremely hard to find in Australia. I won’t bother starting on my abysmal wifi in Australia rant. We even ran into two guys who are travelling around Australia on postie bikes for ‘save the children’. Running errands in towns always inevitably takes longer than desired, so it wasn’t until the afternoon that we rolled out of town. A few k’s down the road we hit the dirt which was to be our friend for the next 120km or so. Towards the end of the afternoon we visited Burke and Wills camp 119, their second last camp before the Gulf. It was a slightly eerie place and had me reflecting on the bravery and ignorance of the early European explorers. It felt too weird camping at the 119 site so we found a spot near the river about 3km away.

the guys on postie bikes

Normanton

Big Croc, Normanton. Modelled on a real sized croc!!

Burke and Wills camp 119

We always try and leave early but even if we set our alarm for 5.30am, it still usually takes us around 2 hours to get moving. This is partly because packing our panniers is slightly like playing tetras but also because we like fitting in meditation and a cup of tea before we leave. So yesterday we left not really expecting to make it all the way to the falls as the going was pretty rough, lots of corrugations and the afternoon heat is quite wearing too. One of the nice things on these more remote dirt roads is that we have had many nomads, and travellers in general, pull up next to us on the road and ask if we need any food or water. We even met one couple who had heard about us in Artherton and someone else who did a u turn so that they could get their photo taken with us. It seems we are some kind of minor celebrities! Although the day was tough, somehow we ended up making it to Leichardt Falls and we were immensely rewarded for our effort. It really is a special spot.

Leichardt Falls

So next for us is Burketown where we hear rumours of a splendid bakery. Our crossing of the outback is going swimmingly so far. I am enjoying the vast beauty of the land. It really is a different Australia out here and the people that have made this part of the world their home, certainly have to deal with a lot of things we never think of in the cities; huge distances between services, terrible roads, un-passable roads (in the wet), no phone reception, hours for any kind of emergency services and huge costs. The price of food out here is immense! One refreshing thing that I have noticed is the lack of commericalisation. Aside the obligatory XXXX Gold signs, there really are no chain fast food joints, no supermarkets, no pokies. Both of us are in good spirits, if a little tired. It’s hotter and rougher out here and even though we are still loving it, we are looking forward to some weeks off the bike in Darwin.

Till next time.

Love

Jude

ps there are way too many photos of me! Going to steal the camera off Astrid for next time! (:

foonsonbikes

Melbourne to London by bicycle. Then London home via Cairo to Cape Town.

cycling the savannah way

Are you lost?

The long, hard, dusty road.

Turning Left