The Longest Friday

The vast majority of Australia boasts all the vertical variation of a pancake

…..and it almost seems that the slightest change in terrain warrants the immediate designation of a national park, which is superb because there are protected areas set aside for recreation use.  (in some areas, the North West Territories remind me of Texas…where vast tracks of land are privatized by cattle barons and therefore legally inaccessible to the public.)  Kings Canyon is one these bumps in the vast Australian pancake – The Australian pancake is a legitimate scientific geographical term(that I made up) describing the greater portion of Australia.

I had the pleasure of linking up with a Danish Dairy farmer making his way around Australia on a motorbike.

Bernhard from Denmark

Our shared appreciation for the outdoors convinced us to spend a half day hiking in the Kings Canyon.

Cool rain drizzled down on us through out the hike,..but the canyon was still hot enough to lure me into those rare outback oasis.

Staying true to his wheels, Randy hunkered down with his bike at the nearest roadhouse.  By the time I arrived at the station I was in dire need of a cup of joe and some feed.  As he’d been there waiting for hours already,..he set of for Uluru.  That’s the way with bikers like us.  While you never leave a buddy hanging in tight spot,..if you want to go,…you go,..and make plans to link up down the road….nothing should interfere with your individual freedom and personal riding style.

Uluru is a little town located just outside Ayers Rock.  Its exists to serve the loads of tourist that make the long trip out to see the big rock.  Everything is uber expensive,…but I guess that’s what keeps the place protected and maintained.

Ayers rock is a big deal,…and I was itching to see it.  I was hungry and tired after the drive out,…but just had to go out to take a gander.  I put off setting up camp and shot out towards the national park.  I paid up my 25 bucks at the gate and rode in on an immaculate road that gently twisted through the dunes and over the low lying hills.  It just felt good to be there,..it was evening,…perfect temperature….the low angle of the sun cast a beautiful golden glow over the landscape, and recent rains had replaced the dusty breeze with a pungent and refreshing scent of sage and spinnifex.

I’ve had the privilege and good fortune to visit some the worlds biggest tourist attractions.  Most of these attractions looked far more extravagant in photo graphs and brochures,..than in real life, so I actually wasn’t expecting a big deal with Ayers Rock.

But,..as it rose up in front of me out of the outback scrub…I was stunned.

It was a way bigger deal than I’d imagined. No photo I’ve seen has done it justice.  Maybe it was the timing and circumstances,..by myself,..sun setting,..perfectly beautiful evening,..on a motorbike,..I don’t know exactly why,..but Ayers rock blew me away.   Its absolutely spectacular.

this photo doesn't do it justice,..the rock is much bigger than it looks

After stopping to snap some photos,..I was back on the road to get in close to the big rock.  My hunger, thirst and fatigue from riding all day was forgotten as I was revived by the glory of this awesome site.  The road continues to wind its way in a complete loop around the Rock.  I was the only one on the road and I screamed around it with child like bliss… again, and again,..and again,..until it got dark.

The following morning was a very different experience.  It was still pretty cool, but the crowds were there.  Randy and I hung with a tour guide and a full flock of tourist for about 20 minutes…then buggered off.  Running around the world free as can be on motorbikes..has spoiled us…leaving us with little tolerance for crowds.

couldn't help but capture this image with my camera

I would title this into the red hot center,..but its been pouring for days.  That’s POURING not raining.  The dry river bed (and transient camp for aboriginals) is currently suitable for white water rafting.  Its not the rainy season,..just weird weather.

The locals are loving it,..aside from discovering leaks in their roofs(and not caring cus its not going to rain like this for another 80 years),..the rain has cooled down the air temperature and graced the usual parched red land with greenery.

Good grazing land stretches out along the creeks in pastures and sprawls beneath extraterrestrial looking pines and gum trees.

Alice was a sort of hallmark for my Australia tour,..I’d heard about it since I was kid and it felt great to have finally arrived to see if first hand.  My first impressions were perfect.  By chance I’d wandered into the outback styled bar of Bojangles.  A historic pub decked with memorabilia of a wild and turbulent past….loads of guns, swords,..gator skins,..tributes to Ned Kelly(Aussie Outlaw)…line the walls and hang precariously from the ceiling. They even had a skeleton sitting atop an ancient motorcycle with a live python twisting through the rusty rig.  The skeleton is wearing a metal chastity belt. I didn’t think there actually was such a thing,..and I didn’t expect to see one displayed by a grinning skeleton on a motorcycle providing habitat for a live python in an Alice outback pub.  Not unlike some Alaskan towns,..there’s a feeling of frontier permeating the atmosphere.  Lots of strange folks, with even stranger stories.  I spent a few hours in the pub having a yarn with some truckers over various cold but mediocre beers and a whopping Kangaroo steak.  After I probed with a few questions, I was resting assured that none of the truckers were hauling bulldozers,..so I didn’t have to rip one of the swords off the wall.

Another key point for me in Alice was linking up with Randy.  He’s another overlander working his way around the globe on a bike..but with a very cool twist. He’s your modern day Maverick,.. playing poker in each town with enough success to put gas in his tank and keep himself on the road.  Definitely the only guy I know doing that.  Back in Panama we’d met up and gone in on a Sail boat to get our selves and our bikes around the Darian.  Over several stomach wrenching days of rough seas to Colombia,..we’d gotten to know each other.  We never actually toured together, cus I was a biker with a paragliding and mountaineering problem…and was not making very good time as I rolled south.

Randy at the 24 hour laundromat,..thats open 24hrs……. except when its raining.

So it was with some degree of wonder that we both ended up in the same town on the other side of the world…in the desert during an epic rainstorm.   We agreed to team up for an attempt on the Gunbarrel track.  General consenses on the route was not favorable from those we’ve talked with,..so we are approaching with enough fuel to back off at any point.

Although an outstanding urban rider,… The Maverick’s poker life style has kept him out of the bush and in the casinos.  So we are breaking him in gently on bush camping, as we’ll be riding wilderness on the Gunbarrel.  He’s picked up a good tent, bed roll, extra fuel containers, ect and he’s squaring away his bush kit as we get closer to the route.  I’m hoping he swaps out those bungees for some rachet straps…we’ll see.

Alice was a spot to gear up,..although prices were astronomical…the gear was there.  My BestRest Pump had recently failed as well as all my attempts to repair it(warranties aren’t much help when you  consider shipping costs overseas).  So its back to the ghetto slime pump,..which works just as well anyway.  My nice primaloft sleeping matt is blown out as well.  20 minutes in a river trying to find the holes and squeezing out a full tube of seam seal didn’t solve the problem…so its back to the 15$ blue foam….some times its good to be forced back to basics.  Since I’m rigged for it, and comfortable hauling a big load with that solid 1150 motor,..I’m the mothership for this trip,..carrying the majority of food, fuel, water, cooking equipment, spares, ect.

We are working our way towards the Gunbarrel via Kings Canyon and Ayers Rock.  The next few days will give us time to asses our kit and our capability on these dirt roads in regards to heavy rains.  Our first 100k of dirt was fanstastic.  The KTM dealer in Alice told us to stay clear(best intentions for tourists,..I’d say the same thing), but we went anyways and it was a blast.   The rain helped keep the dust down and the mud was a breeze compared to that nasty stuff seeping out of the South American Jungles.  However, this was just one dirt road, and we can’t fully judge whats ahead by a mere 100k.

The bush camping was top notch.  The flys were horrid as usual,..but we’ve got a system in place to deal with them.

Anytime you stop for more than a few minutes during the day…the head net goes on.   At dusk the solar charged flies back off and we can remove the head nets, cook up some feed, and enjoy the sunset.

Massive down pours arrived a little after midnight, slamming against my tent with such force I had to resort to earplugs to get back to sleep.  Its times like this when your glad you’ve got a high quality shelter over your head.  (Thanks Ian for helping pick out the Aussie made bombshelter of a tent)

We pitched our tents this evening at Kings Canyon Resort.  It’s an impressive lodging and camping resort just outside Kings Canyon.    Nothing beats bushcamping for a scenic campsite,..but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the pool  and hot shower,… and Randy treated me to a 7 dollar glass of beer….prices are up out here.

It was high time to head down from the cool weather refuge of the mountains and embrace the heat desert….Australia is after all mostly arid landscapes… I’m think’n to see it,.. you’ve got to suck it up and step into the oven.    I was heading for Alice Springs, via Cobar, Brocken hill and Port Augustus.  My contacts from the Sydney rally extended as far out as Cobar,..where one of Perry’s buddy’s put me up for the night.  It was classic Aussie hospitality with endless barbecued steads and some of the best scalloped potatoes I’d ever laid into to.  My morning routine had me going over the bike, checking for any issues before I stepped off. I traced some residue to a severed oil line leading off my rear shock preload.  Over the last week since the rebuild, I’d managed to not see an oil line making contact with the rear tire…that one’s definitely on me..bugger.  So I was mobile,..but had no shock preload…meaning I was not offroad capable until I got her fixed.  As the shock is a sealed unit,..it had to be mailed off to the nearest shock expert.  In an incredible gesture of kindness, Bill dropped the shock off his very own and beloved GSA and swapped out with me. He was either doing me a huge favor…or desperate to get me out of his house J..  Thanks very much Bill for letting me pull parts of you bike..,..I’m in your debt.

With Bill’s shock installed, I rolled west for Broken hill.  Just outside Broken Hill, is the one horse town of Silverton…..the filming location for Mad Max.  the perfect setting for a lone Aussie Cop (mel Gibson) to single handedly take on the post  apocalyptic world of evil!  Any man with an ounce of motor loving testosterone…loves this movie! …or series I should say…if you haven’t seen the mad max series…stop reading this immediately and go watch all three Mad Max movies!

Silverton,..the filming location,..is a historic mining town,…with about five old buildings…the pub being the one showing any sign of life.  Turning down a dirt street(main street) I knew what I was looking for,…and there it was parked outside the old Silverton bar…The Mad Max interceptor!   Booyah!!

It was a ghost town until about eight oclock when loads of folks emerged from the country side to grab a cold brew in the bar.  Silverton’s lonely bar way out in the middle of the desert was suddenly a happening place.

I was sitting out front on my motorcycle ….inquiring from the locals where I might track down some of the local emus.  Emus, like Ostriches and Qasuaries(sp) are just another bit of Aussie wildlife that baffles my imagination.   While a local old timer gave me directions, a hairly look’n wasp the size of small bird landed on my shoulder.  It wasn’t going to get through my riding armor (BMW does special RD to protect its riders against Aussie nasties), but its close proximity to my exposed ear made me feel a bit vulnerable.  I gave it a quick flick and sent it flying to the dust beside my tire.  I looked over at the local old timer and inquired on the name of the insect. He just shook his head “never seen one of them things around here,..and spit on it,..then crushed it under his boot heel before I could snap a photo of the anomaly. That says to me you could probably live here all your life and still see no end of weird things that might show up perched on shoulder.

As the sun was setting I was off into the desert about 6 miles out of Silverton.

I’d got caught up in the excitement of seeing two emus way off in the desert,..and I’d broken away from the dirt track was riding cross country across the hard desert floor.  I wasn’t even coming close to catching up to the birds as they blasted over the desert terrain like hover crafts.

I pulled off for the night among some sage brush.  It was a georgous campsite,

…but it didn’t take long for the massive swarms of flies to locate my camp. I rushed to set up my tent and the retreated from the buzzing black clouds.  Its enough to drive you crazy as the flies maneuver with extreme skill to enter any location that will mostly likely drive crazy..ie your eyeball…nose,..into your ear.  The primary use of my tent on this entire tour has been bug relief…and I’m going to be picking up head net ASAP.

As soon as the sun dipped below the horizon..the dreaded buzzing noise abated and flies wandered off to rest up and plan their morning assault.   I emerged under an incredible night sky.  It was dead silent,…with only an occasional gust of wind ruffling the fabric of tent.  I fired up the stove,..brewed up some noodles.   I was sitting their sipping on a cup of wine,..giving the noodles an occasional stir,..when a moth wandered in to close to the flame and dropped dead below the stove.  It took about 2 minutes for an army of ants to move in and haul off their new found booty.  Its amazing how much goes on right between your feet out here….needless to say my sandals aren’t getting much use….I like the security of the motocross boots.

I’ve been putting in lot of highway miles.  I’d rather be maximizing my time on the dirt,…but I’ve decided to allocate the majority of my time in Australia to far western province of Oz,.. appropriately titled…Western Australia.   So I’m running fast on the tarmac,..putting in long miles to get to Alice to start a new venture into the Gibson  desert.   The highways are’nt too bad.

coming into Port Augusta

Bad being the big superhighways of the US that are only good for making time hauling ass across the country.  These highways are fast,..but only two laned…gently contouring the terrain through a country with very little traffic.  Virtually every vehicle gives me a wave…with the exception of the Bikies.  These are the notorious biker gang types…like the Banditos or Hells Angels of the US but of Australia…the one percenter types…the guys who had trouble making friends back in grade school..ect.   I only saw these guys on the road between Sydney and Port Agusta.  Out on the real roads,..leading up to Alice I didn’t see any bikers.

One thing I didn’t expect from the hot red center was rain…and I got loads of it.  Massive storm clouds reared up in the distance and poured water out in spouts over the desert floor.

The storms have been rolling in during the evenings,…making for some dramatic evening storm displays.

I don’t know why,..but if there was a major storm cloud ahead of me,..the road would inevitably turn right for it.  The first storm was the biggest,..I’ll admit I was little nervous.  I pulled over to decide how to take it.  Lots of lightening,..major crashing thunder,..and I could see the rain in the distance like a wall approaching my position,..it was coming down so hard it was knocking dust and mud back up in to the air in front of it.

An unusually hot blast of air was moving ahead of the storm,..so uncomfortably warm I had to shut my face shield to keep my eyes from tearing.  I ultimately decided I’d rather minimize my time in the storm by pushing through to the other side,..and its always good to have some rubber tires under you if the lightening decides to touch down.

I put on my emergency flashers, switched mp3 player to ACDC and rolled back on the throttle. There was that super exhilarating split second as the front tire burst into the wall of water.  The pelting rain soaked through my riding suite, high winds battered me from different directions and I could smell and taste the red mud as it permeated the air.  It was a rich experience and the drastic change in temperature was huge relief.  Towards the end the storm I pulled over to watch a few Kangaroos drinking water from the pools in along road centerline.

Its easy to pull of on a dirt road,..out of sight and mind from the freeway and bush camp for the night.   After a hot day of riding I welcomed the evening rain in camp.  Rather than getting my clothes all wet, I stripped down to my boots and let the cold soothing drops cool me down.  Fortunately I was back enough into the bush to avoid surprising any locals (other than few kangaroos) as I strutted around camp wearing nothing but motorcross boots.

sorry- no pics here( thats on the “other” website

A few nights ago I woke up to a massive ant infestation in camp.  Not a huge deal,..they were little buggers and they didn’t really sting much when they bit,..but I had a dollar for every bite,..I’d be well on my way to new set of Ohlins.

view from camp

Every so often I find myself riding through massive tracts of private ranching land…the dreaded barb wire fence lining both sides of the road…preventing me from finding a good campsite.  As I passed into the Northern Territories I found myself in one of those endless fenced cattle stations.  While searching around for a break behind a rest stop I ran into a group of Germans, who’d simply made camp at the rest stop between picnic benches.  It was close to the road, but given only about 2 trucks would pass every few hours,..it was relatively quiet, and it was loads of fun to be camping with these folks.  We sat around swatting at flies and swapping stories.

Life’s got its highs and lows and Good times come and go,….and these my friends are definitely good times.

I’ve just pitched a tent on forested ridge deep in the Blue Mountains.

The higher altitude here allows a crisp cool breeze to blow through camp,..a relief from the steamy tropical lowland.  It’s a campers dream out here! Its merely a quick hop onto dirt road to find yourself in open range. When there’s no fences on the sides of road you know your in ADVrider territory,..where you can bound off into the woods as far as your knobby TKC80 tread will pull you.

My technique is to take a dirt road, then a scout out a dirt track…then pull a 100meters off into the bush out of site and mind.  Not that any one comes down these roads anyway….or cares. One thing Australians are endowed with is space…the first pillar of quality life!

Cozy’d up in my fleece liner, I’m lean’n up against a gum tree catching up on this ride report…not easy with the pleasant distraction of a gorgeous sunset slipping below the adjacent ridge, wallabies hoping around camp and those wild looking Aussie parrots pumping out a Jurassic park sound track.

It’s been a LONG time since I actually had a real ride report to post,..thats actual riding..not posts about shipping, or taking up space in a hospital, or sorting through medical bills as I swap out ice packs.  I’m back in saddle…and its never felt so damn good.  I’ve always tried to keep pushing through even when things got mean,..seemed irrational..and cost deeply in all aspects, but its always paid off, and this is no different.

Following a route traced out by Locky(the OZ pannier guy), I rolled west from Brisbane into the Great divide mountains.  It was a much different way than I’d originally set out on so many months ago on that freeway through Tawoomba.  This time I traded fast highways for country lanes with no centerline,..roads that twisted in and out of mountains, through lush rainforest and over swollen rivers on creaky old one way bridges.

Due to my usual late start (always tough to get your kit right after being off the road for a while), I’d finally made camp well after dark.  As I expected, locky had set me up right,…a quiet spot along a river off the old Grafton road, a ways out from Glenn Innes.

This camp had A LOT of critters.  Under the light of my headlamp I was pulling my tent off the bike of the bike when I heard a rustle in the woods.  Glancing up I was alarmed to see a furry white thing twice the size of dog bolting right at me.  Totally spooked, I jumped to the side putting the motorcycle between me and the incoming creature.  It stopped just on the other side of the bike about three meters away from me,..staring me down and huffing a bit. Sure,..it was furry and cute..but it had .,..crazy eyes!  The cute furry ones are the ones you got to look out for …like those drop bears they keep warning me about J.   Realizing it was just a wallaby, I relaxed a bit and enjoyed the company.  I think it was maybe the light that brought him in, cus I turned it off and he bounced away.

Everyone I meet seems to have their own opinion on the bizarre behavior of kangaroos and wallabies or wallaroos.  Some say light makes them do weird things.  I met a guy that says he’s had 3 kangaroos hit his motor home.  He didn’t hit them,..they actually charged across the road and slammed into the side of his caravan.

Of course anyone that drives in the country around here has an enourmas roobar in front to fend off the ,.”the mongrels”…as one trucker refers to them.

Speaking of roobars…my buddy Perry recommended I strap a KTM to the front of my bike as a sort of modified roobar (good knock on KTM! I get enough jokes from them on my BMW…ahhh the pic I could pull together with photoshop!

I also had the pleasure of 4 foot python in camp the other day, as well aas a plethora of cool lizards.

When I walked over to this lizard,..he flattened himself on the ground, lifted his head and stuck out bright blue tounge.

I had the company of two other campers in the area.  Both of which invited me over for a “cuppa”. I’ve got hand it to the Aussies,…they know about camping.  I’ve seen camping rigs that put our land yachts back home to shame.  None of those low riding super RVs..what they’ve got out here is something better. Its camping with comfort, but with out comprisming on 4×4 capability.  Were talking,.. pop out tents,..big tires, snorkels,..extended range fuel tanks..and of  course the roobar.

The old Grafton road is ADVrider territory,.. remote, no fences,…so many good river front camping I gave up logging them into my GPS.

Following Locky’s route description I turned off the middle of the old Grafton to continue a 97mile dirt route through the mountains.  The road was a blissful track tracing ridge lines and offering expansive views of the river valley below.

In a full day of riding I passed 3 other vehicles.  As for people,..only a few ranchers working their herds by horseback in valley pastures.

The sunlight was fading fast as I hit the tarmac and rolled for Moonan Flats.

I’d been clued in that Moonan flats was a meeting place for ADVriders heading out to the rally at Karua River.  It’s a one horse town off a dirt road.  Even though it was 1130 at night and pouring down rain,..finding these boys was easy.  About 30 two wheel adventure machines were parked around a pub that was clearly the happening place.  I hardly had my helmet off when I found myself with tasty brew in my hand and surrounded by the sort of folks you might expect to run across in Aussie bar in the middle of no where…we weren’t short on character in this pub.  It was hand shakes, laughs and a lot of good natured jokes on me (you gotta expect a certain number of jibs when you roll around covered in BMW patches)

It was great fun,..with great people.  It was well after midnight when last call came and we stumbled through the down pour out to the tents.  I gotta hand it to these guys,..every year they come out here, to ride through the down pour and hold a soppy wet camping rally.   It rains every year, and they know it,..but it doesn’t deter them a bit….cus they’r dedicated riders

I had whole slew of new riding buddies by the next day…and just pulled in with them as we rolled up over the Barrington Mountains to the  Karua River Rally.  Was good to be riding in a group for bit.  The paved roads are full of bikers,..but its not every day you get this many duel sport riders together in one spot.  These guys were good riders,..pulling hard and fast around those gravel bends.

I was truly impressed with extensive assortment of bikes.

It wasn’t some flashy bike week rally,…where your kit consists of entirely of a towl and spray bottle to polish your chrome every few hours.  This was more about riding whatever you got…what ever appeals to your sense of adventure.  There were old BMW Airheads,…rocket fast KTM dirtbikes,…Hondas, Kawasaki’s, sidecar outfits, many that I’d never seen before….there was even a diesel drink’n Einfield.   There were two ways in,..both were back woods dirt routes through the rainforest.

While riding the pass I pulled over to help out an older fellow on a R80 who’d just taken a flat.  I pulled out my plugs hoping for a quick puncture repair, but he’d bent his rim on rock in a bad way.  Never having had to deal with this on my spoked GS rim, I figured he was in trouble. But the guy just grabbed a big rock…hammered in the rim,..and we used my compressor to blow it up.  To my amazement we were back on the road in a few minutes.  Leave it to the R80 boys to show you how to keep it going with a little rock bashing.

I haven’t been to many rallies, but this one would be one my favorites.  I couldn’t walk twenty feet without being invited over to a campfire to swaps stories, meet other riders,..and tell lies over luke warm beer….”No shit…there I was” type stories..the best type.

check this moto trailer camping rig

Its hard to imagine a better place to meet riders and make contacts. Invites flowed like the booze. I was offered places to stay all over, which ultimately led me to Perry’s place in Sydney following the rally.

Perry is a legitimate ADVrider who both rides and builds bikes.

Only he could turn a Ducati Monster into trail bike (I’ve seen the pics).  I didn’t know it when I met him at Moonan Flats, but Perry doesn’t have legs.  An accident with a train as a child left him as a double amputee.  This guy has done more in life than most folks who’ve got all their limbs.  Truly an inspiration!  And he can barbecue a steak better than anyone I know! Thanks to Perry, his wife, and two wonderful kids,  I had a very rewarding experience in Sydney.

I spent a couple days riding various dirt routes through the Blue Mountains west of Sydney.

Aside from great rides, a big highlight for me was seeing a wombat (which no Australia experience would be complete without). OZ has a lot of nasty poisonous things,..but at least most of them are no match for my alpine star riding boots.

I’ve seen some wild look’n snakes,.,,but most of them crawl off the dirt road before I can swing back around and get a photo.  I was warned not to run over snakes.  Some guy out west ran over a king brown or something…. The thing got stuck on the undercarriage of the car…then survived long enough to get revenge at the next fuel station when the guy was refueling…he didn’t make it.  You only get stories like that out here.

Camping gives me that opportunity to witness what crawls around the woods out here.  As I was reaching for a my tea, my head lamp light reflected off two little eyes on a log next to me…..damn! they’ve got some big spiders out here,…never seen a spider with eyes big enough to reflect off my headlamp….I just tucked my pants into my riding boots,..dont need any 8 legged residences look’n for meal in my pants. If it comes any closer, I’m retreating to my tent.   I’ve also scored all sorts of new 6 legged stowaways on the bike.

I dont like leeches though,...nasty buggers!

They make good riding partners…never complain,…don’t weigh much,..always agree with me…and taste good when dipped in Nutella (okay…telling lies again…although inevitably something crunchy always ends up in my camp coffee).  Speaking of food,..check this out,..when you order a standard hamburger in Australia, you will find between the buns…a beef pady, lettuce, tomato,  pinapple, sugar beat, and a fried egg…..why…cus this is F*&*cking OZ…there’s no rules here!

Its no secret that one of the richest parts of traveling is meeting locals, being invited into their homes,..and getting a snapshot of their lives.  By chance I met up with Verity at a diner in Oberon.  Conversation eventually led to all my questions about local wildlife, and it turns out that she is running a sort of volunteer animal rescue at her home.  I was stoked to be invited to meet her collection of wallabies and wallaroos.

The wallabies, wallaroos, kangaroos..often end up as road kill cus they gravitate towards  the roads in search of the green grass that grows alongside( one theory)(the other being that they are just there waiting to ambush caravans)  So inevitably there is a lot of animal carnage on the roads.  Verriti has rescued several of  young from pouches of killed wallaby mothers.  Because she hand raises them,..they are super friendly…and absolutely love a good scratch on the chest.

As we went out back to have a look at her motorbikes, a big clidestale named Ben came around to check in on us.  I never thought such massive and powerful animal such as clidestale would be so social and friendly, I’d say it’s a credit to Verity’s skill with animals.

Her son Luke,…let me in on some his secret tad pole snaring tricks.

I’m now working out a  plan to head west towards Alice Springs with a few stops in between…its time to take the old girl to the desert.

you can always tell its my campsite due to the certain yard sale appearance.

An Tribute to Locky

Its been a pretty rough start for the Australia leg of my tour…but Locky turned things around for me and got me back on my feet…or wheels I should say.

Thanks to him I’ve got a motorcycle again.  He took me in, gave me room, full access to his shop, and ultimately helped me accomplish in 3 days,. what would have taken me weeks.  Locky dropped his current projects and spent his days with me tearing off the subframe, rewelding it, reinstalling it, fixing various components, fabricating parts, and attaching a new rear rack,…and installing a beautiful pair of tough-as-hell panniers.  (will give full report on these as I tour)

This guy is a super cool dude, brilliant with motorbikes… and I can not communicate in words the gratitude feel for the amount of time, effort and materials he freely invested in me.   Thank you Locky,…been real good knowing you!

Locky and his 1100gs (he’s not running his own panniers, because they are selling faster than he can keep a set long enough to mount to his own bike…thanks for putting another biker first…again)

Now that I’m a biker with bike again…its time to start turning the adventure touring back on.  The Kaurara river Rally is definitely on.  As long as I can keep at least one of Locky’s panniers between me and the grim reaper’s bulldozer,..I’ll make it there!  I hear its gonna rain loads.  I’m so thrilled to be back on a bike and camping after this whole recover ordeal,..that I couldn’t care less…rain,..sandstorms,..cyclones,, what ever. Hope to have the opportunity to meet some of you guys out that way.

After the rally I’m thinking about Sydney….since its there.  I’m not a big city guy,..but I figure I should see it.  (Brisbane was a pleasant surprise,..any place that has natural climbing walls in the middle of the city gets high marks in my book)

Following Sydney,,..I’m shoot’n for Alice.  Then….if its open..the gunbarrel.

Tim always clues me in on the best Australian intel

vid  comes from The Gruen Transfer episode 10. The section called “the pitch” where ad agencies come in to make funny ads.

Just received this map of Australia over email from an Aussie friend,..had to share!  Thanks Tim, only thing missing is the big rig with a D9 bulldozer on the back.

28jan10 (Return to OZ after 4 month  recovery from injuries)

At some point on the flight back to OZ, I opened up the shade thing covering the window, and took a gander expecting to see more water..or clouds ect…. But laid out under the wing was the Australian Outback…and it scared the sh*t out of me! you could really get your butt handed to you out there. Thats a whole lot of epic desert wilderness! It was hours until I spotted any sign of man..not to mention water or a tree.  The Australians told me about it,..how it was the real deal,..but I didnt realize how remote and expansive it is until I saw for it myself. I guess flying over it isnt really seeing it….cant wait to ride it,..smell it,..and fry like bacon under that unforgiving sun.
Just got in to celebrate the national holiday(Australia Day)…good stuff,..these guys have a lot to celebrate,.good people, good country,..the culture reminds me of the American West, from what I’ve seen so far (which is limited I admit)
So now I’m sifting through parts at my buddy’s apartment in Forest Lake (Brisbane). Fortunately he doesnt have a car…cus I’ve commandeered the entire garage as the “operation room”. Essentially I did as you guys recommended,…scoured the US used parts market and shipped it all back.
and that my friends….is a perfectly strait subframe…oh yeah

This is going to sound a bit negligent on my part,..but I didnt actually locate my bike until today. I had arranged with some folks I’d met to have it removed from Morgan and Wacker BMW after the initial assesment many months ago,..but uh..er..shit happens., and I found out today that it was still there..oops,…Jason over there in the service department was very cool about it all. Initially, I was fortunate to have friends allowing me access to everything I needed (shop tools, welding, solid advice), but they’ve seem to have their hands full, and are out contact.. I understand that the world doesnt revolve around my motorcycle tour (but what a world that would be!)

So I’m standing by for a few more days to see if I can reach them, then I’ve got to find an alternative- ie renting ute, trailer,.finding some one kind enough to let me use their tools and keep the bike on location for a bit while I work on it.

my biggest project is swapping out the subframe after reinforcing it with welds. Locky a local rider and tour operator has really come through for me…upholding his original offer on panniers, looking forward to meeting him in person. The rest of the work should be relatively simple (never is,..but I like to be optimistic.

My goal is to get the old girl back on the road in time for that Karuah River Rallly.

Dec 31

I put a message out on the Australian forum of ADVrider.com,..asking for tools and shop space.  In under an hour I had folks across Queensland offering their support.  I was more than relieved to finaly have my hands on the bike again…I can still see my dream machine under all that bent metal.  Things happen when you virtually abandon your bike for three months,…but all said things looked all right,.. the bike wasn’t cannablized or rusting outside.  Key was gone…but what kinda advrider would I be if I didn’t have spare.

Lachlan and his family have been incredible hosts.  I’ve got full access to what is every man’s dream shop(if you didn’t like this shop, there’s not an ounce of motor loving testorone in you body),..and Lachlan’s got serious skills in motorcycle everything.

And they’ve offered me a room ,…so I’ve can work on the bike as soon as I roll out of bed.

Pulling the frame turned out to be a relatively easy….thanks to good German engineering.

We showed up at Rob’s welding and engineering shop,.. he put aside his work and knocked out my frame reinforcements on the spot.

Rob and I had two things in common,.. we both wear oversized boots and shorts with no shame,…and we are both enourmas fans of the celestial pursuit of trout with a flyrod.   Rob’s wife made some killer sandwhiches and conversed the finer points of things that matter…like bikes, travel..the outdoors,..and fishing.

Back in Lachlans shop we spent the day pushing,., pulling and wedging the new frame on.  Fortunately Lachlan had the foresight to brace the bike in the right spots,.. so that the frame eventually lined up and bolted down.

Tomorrow, we’ll be fitting varios parts,..and ultimately a shiny new set of panniers.  At some point, hopefully tomorrow,… I’ll fire it up and see if any surprises announce themselves. I’m not going to celebrate yet,..but its look’n real good!

Its been over 3 months of regrowing bone and ligament, and every day I’d head out to the garage and test my hand on the clutch.  This week, with a great deal of satisfaction I finally reeled in that stiff  lever on my father’s R75. I new it was time to fire her up and I was thrilled to be back on two wheels.  It wasn’t my beloved GS, but I made up for it in classic style on that beautiful airhead.

I’ve still got a little more therapy to do(cant fully close my left hand yet, and the ankle is still a bit swollen),..

Its not like they were pretty feet to begin with anyway

check this device out, it cranks your ankle into certain positions to try force extended range of motion…I’m pretty sure it was actually designed during the Spanish Inquisition… I certainly feel like confessing every time I turn one of those knobs.

….but I can smell the open road..and it wont be long.  I’m giving myself another month, then I’m heading back to Australia.  I don’t know how long its going to take to fix up that GS, but I suspect I’ll be rolling into the outback some time in February.

I can’t confirm a route until I get the bike repaired, but I’ve got an ambitious plan in mind.  A couple possibilities. As of now I’m shoot’n for red.

always room for a few more screws!

A lot folks are curios about the circumstances involving my crash. So am I? I’ll be up front and tell you that I hit my head pretty hard and I don’t know exactly what happened.  I don’t remember the collision, only an immediate transition from a beautiful Friday morning ride on a freeway…. to the dimly lit cavity of an ambulance, and the two medics  fussing over me, announcing that I’d just been slammed by a bulldozer blade.

That being said, I can tell you all I know and what I’ve gathered since.  But it would be prudent to back up a bit so I can at least post a few photos and maybe even pull together a ride report of sorts.

Two weeks before I set out from Brisbane- I had just got the bike out of quarantine, did all the easy maintenance myself, then dropped her at local shop for a throttle body synch, fd gaiter replacement, ect.     I made the most of my down time scoping out the flying sites.

I had the good fortune to meet some retired Aussie Soldiers,..top notch fellows, these guys hooked me up with their skilled welder, between the three of them my pannier rack was cut and rewelded into a super rack…suitable for both adventure motorcycle touring and combat operations!  Thanks guys…didn’t know it at the time but that rack would save my leg a few days later.

I’m not a very superstitious person,.. but if we were to talk bad omens there’d be a few things worth mentioning.  As the final weld set on the frame and I was ready to ride off…. the winds started picking up and the sky darkened over head.  I’d witnessed over 30 days of near perfect weather in sunny Brisbane,…and now that I was finally ready to roll, nature decided to change course.  The sky turned yellow and copious amounts of dust fell from the sky.

Here’s some  wikipedia fun from   (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2009_Australian_dust_storm)

“On 23 September, the dust plume measured more than 500 kilometres (310 mi) in width and 1,000 kilometres (620 mi) in length and covered dozens of towns and cities in two states.^[3] This concentration of dust broke records in many towns and cities.^[5] The CSIRO estimated that the storm carried some 16 million tonnes of dust from the deserts of Central Australia,^[6] and during the peak of the storm, the Australian continent was estimated to be losing 75,000 tonnes of dust per hour off the NSW coast north of Sydney.^[7] The dust storm coincided with other extreme weather conditions which affected the cities of Adelaide and Melbourne.

MODIS Terra satellite image of the dust storm over eastern Australia taken on 23 September 2009”

wikipedia-above

Another weird occurrence happened as I was loading up the bike.  I damaged a talisman that I kept in my tank bag for luck.  Before you start laughing at me, I’ll tell you the story.  Back in Bolivia  I had been wandering through some back streets of La Paz.  I happened upon a sort of witches market.  Actually,.. it was definitely a witches market, there was no “sort of” about it.  You could buy all sorts of weird shit, like dried llama fetuses,.. and various bottled magic potions.  More out of personal entertainment and curiosity than actual seriousness, I approached one of the old gals.

I’d been struggling through an unusual number of stomach illnesses and  bike issues since leaving Peru and I figured it wouldn’t hurt my odds to score some local joss off a creepy Andean witch.   I told her about myself, where I’d been , where I was going and then respectively asked for her recommendation.  She grunted in acknowledgement and continued to stare at me while working over a ball of coca leaves from one side of her mouth to the other.  I was feeling a little weird about it all and was about to make my retreat. Then abruptly she broke her stare and leaning over her table began rummaging through her wares.  With a grunt of approval she withdrew a clay figurine and dangled it before me,,… “para viajar “she said.  For about 50 cents US I scored a clay figurine of some deity meant to offer protection to the traveler.  I guess you could call it third world travel insurance.  Not being an adept in the arcane, I inquired on how to use it.  The old weather beaten face just stared back at me.  I got the hint and bugged off.  The Talisman has graced my tank bag ever since.

It was with some disappointment when I broke a piece of it off. So a record dust storm hit and my talisman broke.  No.. I don’t seriously think it had anything to do with the misfortune that lay ahead. But, its entertaining to consider all the mysterious possibilities.

The storm lifted and it was time it ride. I was on the verge of setting out on another great adventure..  The bureaucratic monster was appeased with taxes paid, forms filled and reviewed, … and I was legally free to hit open road..  The frame was further reinforced and all those chassis fractures from rough Bolivian roads were sealed.  The boys at the shop got her up to show room operating condition.  As 1130cc of German engineering cranked to life, she emitted that rhythmic purring, that only comes from a perfectly tuned machine After a month of tedious preparation in Brisbane, I was finally ready to break out and realize a dream of the great Australian Outback.

At the last minute I decided to swing through downtown Brisbane to pick up more brake pads.  I got my new brakes from the BMW shop, but found myself trapped in Brisbane rush hour.   I was sweating in the afternoon heat, cursing my futile attempts to beat the traffic, when a biker on a beautiful black Triumph pulled up next to me.  “you got a lot kit!,” he called out.  “I’ve been living off this kit for ten months, its like my house,”  I replied defensively.

“follow me, I’m buying you a beer” he said.  Its not like I was getting  through Brisbane in this traffic anyway, …so I slid in behind him and we rolled out.

I had no idea what was in store for me.  The Triumph rider, Michael, took me to a famous establishment called Regatta Inn, where I was treated to one finest steaks that I’ve had the good fortune to savor.  Leave it to Australian hospitality to transport you from heavy traffic to fine dining and great company in matter of minutes.  Thanks Michael, had a blast! Look forward to riding with you down the road.

Michael offered me his place to stay that evening, but after a month in Brisbane, I wanted desperately to ride.  I put a few hours in on great roads…rolling west, then pulled off on a dirt road and made camp in a patch of woods.

It felt good to be camping, real good…..  just to lay back in my sleeping bag, reading a bit and listening to critters rustling around out in the darkness.  I was content as I drifted off to sleep. I poked my head out the in the morning to greet a beautiful day.  A perfect day to start out on the Australian leg of my world tour.  I was plotting my route for the day, smiling as I realized I’d be camping in the outback that evening.

I had just emerged from a gas station and was now on the freeway.  Everything was cherry. I vividly remember noting to myself what an incredibly clear morning it was with light traffic and good tarmac ahead of me.  I was riding west, living the dream.

What followed was obviously not the dream I had in mind.   It felt like I was waking up in the middle of night.  It was pitch dark, I could hear voices, and I knew something was amiss but couldn’t put my finger on it.  I didn’t know where I was or what I was doing.  Gradually the darkness gave way to the glowing lights from inside an ambulance.

I found myself gazing up at a couple medics hovering me.  As my head cleared I looked around and began to piece it together.  It all came flooding over me, the motorcycle tour,  Australia, riding down the free way.  I wasn’t in pain I was obviously injured since I had at some point swapped my beloved GS for an ambulance.

“So I take it I crashed my motorcycle?”  I commented to the medics.  “Uh, sort… of yeah, you got swiped from behind by a bull dozer blade” one of them said.  “Lucky to still be around,” the other one chimed in.  I recall thinking to myself.. when things go to shit…no matter how bad things are,  guranteed..there’s always someone there to tell you how lucky you are!

I nodded as if it all made sense…..which it didn’t!   How the hell do you make contact with a bulldozer blade wile riding on a four lane freeway.  For the moment I didn’t care how it happened, I just wanted to know the damage.  My idea of worst case scenario is not death but ending up paralyzed.  After a run in with a bull dozer blade on the free way I was relieved to escape either tragedy….maybe there was some luck to it, but I’d say it was being decked out head to toe in the best riding gear on the market that saved my butt.

The BMW Rally II suit, Sidi riding boots, Thor gloves and Arai xd helmet take full credit for preventing further injuries and or saving my life.   Its all ruined now, but it held together just long enough to get through.

.

The ambulance dropped me off at the nearest trauma center were I was diagnosed with a broken ankle,  broken hand, and various road rash/burn. It was my first experience with public health care.  From the moment I entered the hospital, I got a whole flood of questions concerning insurance, payments, and choices in hospitals. If you can imagine my disposition,…laying on a rolling stretcher with a bone sticking out of my hand,  a busted ankle, a million thoughts and emotions running through my head,…I was a bit frustrated with all there questions. I had great insurance to cover just this sort of accident.  I didn’t understand at the time why they couldn’t just dial the emergency number on the back of the card.

At this point a uniformed lady named Karen came to my rescue.  She would be the first of a number of complete strangers that came to my aid.  Karen advised me on my options and helped me sort things with billing agency and police.  Even though I wasn’t in her ward, Karen continued to check in on me for entire time I was there.

It was my first experience with a public hospital.  I waited 24hrs to get surgery on the compound fracture in my hand.  Then another few days for surgery on the ankle. 

I was in a room with six patients, all of them older folks.  Over a week I had the opportunity to get to know each of the patients as they came and went.  Only one guy was in that ward longer than I.  His name was  Brenden…. and he was crazy.  No one slept in that ward unless Brenden was sleeping, cus when he was awake he made sure everyone knew it, by emitting a bizarre ruckus rivaling that of any Costa Rican howler monkey at dawn.  As disturbing as it was, how could I blame him, locked down to his bed in a form of a strait jacket, and not having a clue of why he was there or what was going on.  I got a 24hr exposure to the worst of Alzheimer’s for eight days. It was a disease I previously new nothing, and I now have enormous compassion for those affected by it. Its an experience I wont soon forget.

I did manage to discover a form of temporary relief for Brenden and his condition by slipping him a magazine that had been passed off to me.

I can see it now…leading headlines for next months medical journal… “Sleezy Magazines Used Effectively In Treating Alzheimer’s”…”side effects from viewing pictures of scantily clad women are still under testing”

It wasn’t Boulder community hospital back home in Colorado, but given the circumstances and all the good samaritans that came to my aid. I’ve no right to complain. The food was great, and there where a few nurses that really went out of there way for me.

News of an American biker spread through the hospital reaching one of medical operators down in the operations room.  Barbara visited my ward and introduced herself as a member of the local BMW club.  She and her partner Justin were an enormous help. They explained to me that I was struck by the blade of a D9 bulldozer that was being hauled by a semi truck,..the blade was wider than the truck, so it clipped me as the truck passed.  The accident is bizarre and I’m still piecing it together.  It doesn’t help that I’ve got amnesia spanning the event.  I always figured it would be a Boilivian bus on a mountain road that got me. It just goes to show you, its never what you expect, its that thing that blindsides you on a sunny Sunday afternoon…or in my case a sunny Friday morning.

Barbara and Justin visited the crash site, secured my bike, trailered it to their house, and provided me with a number of pictures to help me asses the damage.  I felt humbled by the great lengths they went to help out a stranger.

In addition to those kind folks who helped me at the hospital,  The Queensland Adventure riders frequenting the ADVrider.com website continued a 5 page thread about me, giving encouragement and offering me assistance. I had bikers coming in all the way from Brisbane to offer their assistance.  I was extremely grateful to have these guys showing to say hello

me and the surgeon (Phil -an advrider)

and break up the monotony of long depressing days in the hospital.

With help from the local BMW chapter and ADVrider boys I was in really good hands. I have a serious beer debt to pay in Australia!

I finally received the long awaited release authorization from the physical therapist.  David had already made the long commute to Tawoomba and had tailored my bike back to Brisbane.  Phil was going to come all the way out to give me a ride, but a nice couple visiting hospital offered to drive me back. The friendly couple took me on scenic drive through the county, fed me lunch and invited me for visit once I got back on my feet.

The folks of Queensland, Australia made an enormous impression on me.  As foreigner in a strange land,(yes Oz is a strange land!) I never expected so many people who didn’t know me, to rush to my aid. It is with sincere gratitude that I thank all those folks who offered there support and assisted me through this ordeal.

So where does all this leave me in regards to a world motorcycle tour.  Its pretty grim. I’ve lost copious amounts of time and funding over this. I dare not ponder where I’d be right now if I hadn’t crashed..its desperately disappointing. Regrettably my plan of riding both India and Africa is no longer feasible.  I’m still waiting on the damage assessment from BMW, that will be a huge factor. But I’ve got a few things going for me, like a knack for being stubborn and sticking it out,..and lot of folks cheering me on.

I didn’t plan on finishing the tour until the end of summer 2010,..and I’m going to do whatever it takes to keep touring internationally until then.  I’ve got a holiday work visa for Australia that’s my wild card.  I’ll get that bike back on the road and then go work for some coin to bump me off the island to the next continent.

For now base camp is in South Carolina.  I’m taking advantage of good home cook’n, jamming to bluegrass and enjoying the company of my folks as I heal up.  Doc says it’ll be a good 3 months till I can bump that 600lb bike through the bush again.  So I’ve got some time to do my homework and figure out how to get back on the road.  At any rate I’ll be back in OZ in a few months to give her another go.  (will be returning with a special respect for bulldozers)

Its true that this site will slow down a bit since I’m not riding for three months. However, I’ve got a ton of vid footage to edit, so I’ll be posting vids. I’ll also be posting updates on my recovery and future plans as well.  The tour continues!

If any one sees any deals on the following please let me know, its my first step in refitting

BMW Rally II Pro Suit size 52

BMW Rally Glove size10

Arai XD size L