Alice Springs to Sydney

I leave Alice Springs in the morning after getting a new tire. the shop gives me a good deal as a returning customer. right out of town the dirt road to Finke beginns. this is the same road that gets raced once a year in the famous Alice/Finke/Alice race. there were winner cups and front pages of newspapers on the wall of the bike shop. it does not invite me to race, quite the opposite. I find it hard to keep the bike in a straight line in the deep sand. I clamp the handlebar and sit back hard against the luggage, it’s hard work. there’s hardly any traffic and a little way in I wonder if it was a good choice to do this road. there are holes in the road like this one and I see it just in time to stop.

Two guys on two big KTMs like mine stop and we talk. the track further south is ok they say. they are having fun, more than I do. the track changes to some sandy bits mixed with firmer bits. I make it to Finke, 250 km south of Alice. the local service girl tells me the road is gonna be better further south. thank god.

 

there’s a storm coming in from the east. cold air is the first thing I feel. than lightning, a few raindrops and then hail starts to fall on the ground and on me, hail the size of small marbles. it scares me a bit, there’s no shelter and I don’t know if the hail’s gonna grow in size or if it stops. it stops and I carry on.

 

occasionally there’s a detour around  soft, muddy and deeply rutted sections of the road. mostly the detours are the better choice and here it definitely would have been the better choice but I take the straight road. it only looks muddy in the centre and I ride on the dry side until at the end of it the muddy bit widens out and the side bit gets trenched by deep, hard ruts. I attempt to throttle over the deep rut on an angle, the front wheel falls into it and the bike and I go down in an instant. I take a deep breath while laying on the ground and scan my body for injuries. all good. next I take a shot while I’m down here.

only damage: one broken off indicator.

 

the storm is still there, just a bit on the side so I stay dry. later I meet a guy I overtook before and he’ll tell me he almost didn’t make it cause there was so much rain that in some parts the water created ponds. knee deep water he had to get through where I rode on dry land only one hour earlier.

 

I cross the border to South Australia and check my bags for chainsaws and pets.  Phew, none of those illegal substances in my luggage.

 

 

I make it to Mt. Dare roadhouse and get a campsite in the old meat room. a roof to pitch my tent up under and I’m glad for this roof. this night’s gonna be a wet one.

 

the couple who runs the roadhouse came with their kids from Adelaide and settled for the quiet life. a tasteful decorated oasis of good food, drinks and conversation in the middle of a desert track. both I find very helpful and easy going. thank you guys. there’s a sleeping beauty from gone days at the camp site:

 

those huge green beetles like to camp under the tent. dozens flee the light in panic when I take the tent down the next morning.

 

time to leave this warm place but not before every kid gets his mam or dad to take a picture of him/her on the bike. they love it.

 

‘looks like snow’ I think driving past those salty flats.

 

next stop Dalhouse Springs, the famous start of the French Line, the track through the Simpson Desert that crosses over 1000 dunes and needs fuel and water for 700 km.

and a lighter bike. I’m not even tempted to think about doing it alone. people have died here. its on the list though. Dalhouse Springs has a spring that produces 3 million year old water at 38 C and leaves it sitting nicely in a pond for visitors to enjoy. so I do.

 

I really should get going but this spa I enjoy a lot. tiny fish nibble on my skin. bio-dermabrasion beauty treatment a la oz outback. thank you mother nature. I get going. next stop Oodnadatta. the road to there is pretty good and there’s more traffic coming the opposite way. there’s really not much there, mining probably, but the roadhouse is something special.

pink for a start and run on an almost complete self service system. I as everyone else make my own plunger coffe, get the milk from the fridge and get my cup from the shelve. ‘we’re working on a system to have the customer cook their own meal’ the lovely lady says with a smile. this place has character like not many in australia.

I have an Oodna-burger with the lots. tastes great.

 

Coward Springs got recommended as a nice camp site. I make it there and stayed almost dry. there was a little rain just a few kms back and I mention that because this is a region that doesn’t get much rain. sometimes none at all for years and then 2 days in a row when I’m here. today and tomorrow. and I didn’t dance for it, honestly. this is the camp info place with honesty box, something unimaginable further north in NT:

 

three dads and their sons are on an outback adventure and invite me over for a beer. they are very hospitable and Tony offers a range of beautiful australian whites and reds. thank you very much for your hospitality Tony, Craig and Warren. it was a pleasure to meet you. I made it to bed alright. next morning was pretty slow, only the drizzling rain kept me packing and going.

 

the toilet and shower block was built from railway sleepers.

 

 

 

I come past this artists site:

 

 

and have a rest in Marree. a strategic place for me cause here I need to make a decision between going north east to Sydney via the Streczinsky track or going south east via bitumen. rain and very bad track conditions convince me to go bitumen. in Marree I have late breakfast, eggs on toast and a latte, since they’ve got a real coffe machine. ‘I’ll make you a coffe to die for and you’ll love it sweetheart but it won’t be a latte,’ the lady owner says. well alright then and surprise surprise, it was good coffe. I move on and in Leigh Creek the road turns bitumen for the rest of the trip. from here on its pretty much straight ahead 1700 or so km east to Sydney. I stay the night in Olary hotel, a really friendly place, basic and cheap and the first place I’ve ever been in that has a remote control for the lights and the fan. wow, that’s the last thing I expected here!

 

the next day I leave early and set myself Orange, the town, as a goal. 1037 km to go and my first over 1000 km a day trip. its basically little steps of 150 kms to the next tank stop and then on to the next. further down the road I don’t take one tank stop, too early and promptly run out of fuel. I stop at a rest area and ask other travelers. no one got any. I wave at an oncoming grey vw van, the driver looks at me and refuses to stop. the next car does stop and has some spare fuel. thank you guys and you even refused payment once you learnt I’m a visitor to your country. thanks mate. at the next service station I refuel and see the guy who passed me without stopping having lunch with his girl and his kid. when he goes outside I follow and tell him: ‘ you just drove past me when I asked you to help. I ran out of fuel, hope you never need help.’ he replies: ‘I’m from Sydney mate, I don’t do help.’ I leave it at that and think he’ll fry over his own answer.

I made it to Orange that night and even got a bed at a pub. so lucky cause the Bathurst car race is on and that’s only 50 kms away and 180,000 visitors come to see the show. must’ve been the last bed in town. I get very tired and fall to bed, sleep like a rock.

the next day I do my final ride in australia, from Orange to Sydney, ca. 250 km that take ca. 4 hours. lots of traffic and lots of speeding checks. no ticket for me, actually no ticket the whole trip, thank you australia. I get to Go! Logistics depot, clean the bike, crate it and pack the luggage that goes with the bike.

 

a feeling of accomplishment arises in me and now I look forward to new adventures back home. Australia, you’ve been a great host. you showed me your treasures of nature, your beautiful warm, helpful and hospitable people, well mainly, your warm climate, your incredible huge and empty spaces, your amazing dirt roads and, most of all, you gave me a new perspective of how I see the world, you gave me new eyes. thank you Australia!

and Australia would reply: ‘No worries mate, no worries at all.’

 

• October 11, 2010
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