This is Steve's trip report of the great Across The Middle And Back Around The Top trip.
Aim of the trip: to ride as many dirt roads as possible to the Off Centre Rally at Gascoyne Junction in WA, then ride more interesting roads the long way round to get home again.
 | Australia is big. Really big. And flat. And dry. And dusty. Really dusty. It has quite a bit of wildlife as well, though a bit less since Steve travelled some of its highways and byways. One less emu and one less kangaroo, in fact. |  |
Headed out early Monday morning on July 31st and spent a fair bit of the day at Dalby Moto getting a new front rim and two new tyres fitted - Dunlop D606 front, Dunlop D908 rear.
John English had arrived (in the rain) by the time my bike had been finished and we rode together, dry but with the threat of rain, to St. George where we camped for the night after
haggling the sites down from $15 to $10. I was less than happy with the feel of the new D908 on the tarmac, the bike weaved noticeably. A bit of a trait with these tyres apparently,
something which goes away once they have worn down from a couple of thousand kilometres of use.
Next day dawned frosty and the tents were packed away wet. Our first leg of the day, to Brewerina, included some dirt roads and the D908 still felt squirrelly, although the grip was fine.
We were to meet up with KTM rider number three in Brewerina - Stuart Woods. He was there waiting for us but was unlikely to be going any further that day. We found him parked at the
local servo minus a clutch cover and with a trail of oil leading to the bike. Seems that a clutch bolt had come loose and smashed through the clutch cover. Stu decided to patch up the
cover and ride back to St. George for an oil change and fitment of a new clutch. John and I headed onward, with a mixture of tar and dirt roads. The D908 continued to give concern, the
weaving it induced quite scary at times. Having depleted the lightweight travelling wallet the previous night we elected for a free roadside stop for this night. Very peaceful, much nicer
than a commercial site.
In an effort to stabilise the bike's weird handling I lowered tyre pressures, and later increased rear preload. Seemed to help a bit. Still not enough grip to compensate for my first big
mistake of the trip, when I tried to dodge a dirt-road water crossing by riding around it and sank to the axles in sticky mud. Jack was somewhere far ahead so I couldn't expect assistance
for a while; instead I removed all the luggage and tried to lift the bike out of the goop. No way, I was well stuck. One of the owners of the property through which I was riding happened
along in her 4x4 just as Jack returned to see what I was up to, and with a tow rope attached to the 4x4 we were able to drag the bike backwards out of the mud. A few trips back and
forth through the (easy!) water crossing removed much of the mud and we were able to continue to Tibooburra. A quick refuel, then on again to Cameron Corner for a beer and another
free campsite.
We made a casual start the next day to give Stu a chance to catch us after his clutch repairs, and were surprised to see him roll into Cameron Corner around 10am, having made really
good time on the most direct route from St. George. The three of us set out for Lyndhurst at a lively pace over the rise and fall of the many dunes, with my bike still feeling very insecure
at speed. A slight shortcut along a fun sandy track led us onto the Strzelecki track, which was wide and fast but with lots of loose chunky gravel masking the ruts and making all the bikes
feel pretty loose. I even stopped at one point, convinced I had a flat tyre. Just after joining this track we made a short stop to look at the bore and campsite there, and met Gideon and
Marianne, Ulysseans who had been to the Adventure Riders gathering at Arkaroola. They reported that the event had been rained out, something of an overstatement according to other
travellers we later met at the OCR. They were travelling in an old ute festooned with pots and pans and with a roadgoing Honda CB250 complete with worn road tyres hitched to the back, with which Gideon intended to ride the
Simpson! The Strzelecki brought us to Marra where we headed north on another high-speed dash before settling in for the night at a comfortable camp spot near an old railway track.
We made short work of the 130 km to William Creek, where... no fuel! Seems a convoy of about 140 vehicles had passed through ahead of us and cleaned out the bowser. Local pilot
Trevor helped us out with enough avgas to get us to Oodnadatta. Our most expensive fuel of the trip at $2.25 per litre (of which 25c 'freight'), but it certainly made the bikes perform
well. Fortunately none of us had the original catalytic converters fitted so the leaded avgas caused no problems. I had spare fuel in my jerry can but rode the reserve out to see what
range I was getting, and ran out just 2km short of Oodnadatta, at 80km on reserve. After a short break at the pink roadhouse we rode on to Marree, but not entirely without incident - it
was on this leg that I collected my first Aussie icon, hitting an emu which came out of the bush metres ahead of my front wheel. I only had time to think of grabbing the brakes before I
had hit the poor bird full-on. The KTM ploughed straight through unperturbed, the emu was badly hurt though and John had to finish it off when he got to it. We made another bush camp
that night, another very pleasant spot where we sat around the campfire until late (well, 10pm was later than most evenings so far).
A straightforward ride to Curtin Springs where we had decided to camp for the night, allowing us to get to Ayers Rock early the next day. Camping was free again, but they made
up for that with the prices on food and drink. We met quite a few fellow bike travellers here, many of whom were also headed to the OCR. We heard horror stories from several about the
road that we were to ride the following day, and which had already claimed two GSes and caused injuries to their riders (one had been airlifted to Alice Springs hospital). One of our new
acquaintances was Pete Seskis (aka humanone on advrider, and another KTM 950 rider), and he had helped retrieve one of the damaged GSes; as a result he
had ridden the road as far as Docker River three times that day and would ride it yet again the following day.
We rode next day to the entrance to the Ayers Rock/Uluru National Park where we were able to avoid paying the $25 entrance fee when we explained that we were just transitting the
park to head for Docker River. Still got the compulsory photos of the Rock though, and in my case made the most of a brief period of Virgin Mobile phone coverage to make a few calls.
This was my first phone coverage in days and would prove to be the last for quite a while longer. After the Olgas began the dirt road of which we had heard such horror stories. With
lowered tyre pressures the road was just fine on KTM's and Jack later commented that, based on the horror stories, he could only assume that the road had been graded that day! We
caught up with our new 650-riding friends Tony, Chris, Dave and Lee (met briefly at Curtin Springs), just after Docker River and had smoko together. Docker River roadhouse was closed on
Sunday so we rode on to Warakurna roadhouse. Here too we were too late to refuel so we camped very comfortably behind the roadhouse, feasting with the permission of the manager
on the food left in the camp kitchen by previous travellers.
Began the next day with a guided tour of Giles Meteorological Station, a station manned by Met Office staff who volunteer to do a three month stint here, then fuelled up with Opal
unleaded (specially formulated to be useless to petrol sniffing locals). This took us to Warburton where we fuelled up again before heading north to join the Gunbarrel. This was our
toughest road to date, in fact it is signposted as being unmaintained. We met with some very rough stretches, others were soft sand and many were heavily corrugated (often with
several alternative tracks carved out by previous travellers). I came to minor grief when I dropped the bike in one soft-sand section and more major grief when the bike launched us both
into the bush after attacking some washouts too fast. Some bike damage this time when I head-butted the screen, smashing the top off it, and the Andy Strapz canvas saddlebags burst
at the seams. Both bags burst even though the bike fell only on one side, so it seems likely that the bouncing through the washouts had been the cause. Hobbled into the next trailside
camp where we spent much of the evening with a group of 4x4 travellers. These were kind enough to donate a few litres of unleaded which we would probably need if we were all to make
it to the next fuel stop, and to lend me a woodsaw with which to cut the sharp points off the top of my screen.
I started the day as seamstress, stitching the seams of my saddlebags to try to hold the luggage in - helped for a while, although the seams would let go again within the day. A couple of
bungee cords also helped to keep the contents where they belonged. The day continued with more corrugations and sand, though seemingly not as bad as on the previous day. We all
made it to Carnegie Station for the next refuel, at the second highest price of the trip - $2 per litre. The Gunbarrel officially ended at this point and we continued on better maintained dirt
roads towards Wiluna, stopping short to camp out under a nearly full moon.
The next day we continued via Wiluna, a rather poor looking mining community, to Meekatharra - another mining community, but more prosperous looking. This was the first paid
campsite in a while, quite expensive at $15. We met up with the 650 mob again here, as well as many new faces also en route to the OCR. These included Neville on an 1150GS loaded to
the gunwhales and immediately nicknamed the mutha ship.
After breakfast in town we headed en masse for Mount Augustus where an even bigger crowd of bikers set up camp. Mount Augustus was a slight detour for most of us, but worth a look
as it claims to be the largest rock in Australia. I rode the 45km loop around it but was not persuaded that I should walk one of the several climbs to the top. Next day I had a bit of a lie-in
while most of the bikers left for Gascoyne Junction or headed for the rock to take a walk to the top. Jack and Stu were staying another day here so I headed off on the 400km to
Gascoyne on my own, and thoroughly enjoyed riding alone and setting my own pace. On arrival I and Dave of the 650 mob set up camp next to the pool, reserving space for the
latecomers. We killed some time chatting to the pub's bargirls around the pool, and Dave even risked an icy swim. Although this was officially the first night of the OCR the gathering was
still fairly small.
Saturday was rally day and a steady stream of riders arrived during the day. I later heard that about 140 turned up. There had been some casualties, some of our new acquaintances didn't make it (including Alfonse and brother on
their KTM 640 Adventures), others made it but without their bikes (including a couple of airhead GSes with drivetrain problems), and a few bikes only made it on the back of a ute
(including a Ducati sportsbike that had been endo'd somewhere on the dirt). The camaraderie rose with the ever-increasing population, and by the time of the roast meal laid on by the
pub everything was in full swing. Many made a late night of it, I was happy to retire fairly early.
No sore head for me the next morning, not everyone could say the same! Jack, Stu and I said our farewells and got away fairly early, taking dirt roads for as long as possible on the way
to the Overlander Roadhouse at the 'gateway' to Monkey Mia. Fuelled up (but without refilling the jerry cans), we all headed out to Monkey Mia to see where the dolphins come in to feed.
A nicely set up park, but we were not pesuaded to wait until the following morning to see a few dolphins being fed and instead headed back to the roadhouse, just making it without
running out of fuel. From here we headed up the coast a ways to camp right on the coast near Yaringa station. Beautiful quiet spot except for the neighbouring generator, but cold, so it
was early to bed.
We were up at dawn and rode the short distance to the nearest roadhouse for breakfast. Then boredom at 130km/h up the dead straight highway to Carnarvon. Boring road, boring
scenery - flat and featureless. Lots of wild goats and birds though, so I suppose they like it. Time to regroup in Carnarvon, where for $15 I got the saddlebags very professionally
sewn up by Parkwood Upholstery, and Sandy of Sandy McGinns Motorcycles very kindly made his workshop available so that Stu and I could carry out oil changes on our bikes. Just as I
was leaving the Honda workshop one of the Sydney R80's was being pushed in, another drivetrain casualty (this time the gearbox rather than the final drive). He had been towed up the
highway by one of the other bikes. Jack and I stayed the rest of the day in Carnarvon while Stu and R100GS rider Ron pressed on for Broome.
Having bought lots of food which would eat into my storage space I decided to jettison my woolly jumper, which almost made it to the rubbish bin before being claimed by one of the
scavenging Sydney mob! Jack and I headed north at a steady pace to try to conserve the knobby tyres - more boring country, although a little better after Nanutarra roadhouse. To
escape the boredom we eventually turned inland towards the mining community of Pannawonica, and the scenery did indeed become spectacular as we rode into the Pilbara. Cheap
($1.36) fuel at Pannawonica, subsidised by the mining company, so I filled bike and jerry can. After a fifteen minute interlude watching a safety video so that we could get a permit to
ride the mining road north to Dampier the next day, we continued to the historic station at Millstream where we set up camp for the night at a surprisingly busy spot. Had an interesting
chat with our neighbours for the night, a couple of Met Office itinerants, and made use of their rooftop flashing beacon to scare some more distant neighbours into redirecting their 240
volt spotlight away from us - something they had previously flatly refused to do. The Met Office guys persuaded us that we should forego the mining road for which we had obtained a
permit as they reckoned that we would find the alternative developmental road much more interesting.
We started the next day with a walk around the gardens at Millstream homestead - a very pleasant oasis with lily ponds and streams - before heading for the developmental road as
advised by our recent neighbours. It began unimpressively but after a while took us through some more spectacular Pilbara scenery via some twisty and fun roads. Once back on the main
highway we backtracked to Karratha and Dampier for a look at the gas processing plant there - reminiscences for Jack, who had worked in this area as a young man. From here we got
back on track heading east towards Broome. Ended the day at Pardoo roadhouse where we had an interesting discussion with a family who had just spent ten days crossing the Kimberley.
They had taken their time and really done it justice.
Strong headwinds all the way to Broome, where the official (and expensive) campsites were all full and we were directed to the much better Pistol Club, where for $5 per night we had
plenty of space. Explored Broome in the afternoon, and liked it - a bit of a cross between Cairns and Byron Bay. Met up with Stu and Ron on Cable Beach to watch the sunset, followed by
a great feed at Divers Restaurant, where I had the biggest steak of suckling pig I had ever seen. Shooting was in progress when we got back to camp but it couldn't keep me awake for
long.
Day two in Broome: scorcio again. A lazy touristy day, a quick visit to the internet cafe followed by shopping and a spell sunbathing on Cable Beach - a drive-on nudist beach for those
that wish it but I kept the togs on. My D908 rear tyre had pretty much had it by now so I had a Michelin Desert fitted at the local bike shop. Jack bought one too, but elected to carry it for now as his own
D908 had lasted the distance rather better than mine. We finished the day with fish and chips at the port (it was Friday, after all). With a couple of beers each the bill was over $80,
pretty steep for a fish supper!
Back on the road after the interlude in Broome, more boring tar until Derby, with the hot tar playing havoc with the tyres. Time to slow down a bit. Derby was nothing interesting and we
headed straight back out after fully fuelling up for the Gibb River Road. After 50kms tar the road turned to corrugated dirt. We arrived at Windjana Gorge in good time to set up camp ($9)
then head south for a detour on the very rough and dusty road to Tunnel Creek where we walked the impressive caves (total walk distance in the caves about 750 metres). I rode more
aggressively back to camp as I began to trust the Michelin Desert rear, and the road felt much smoother as a result. In bed by 1900, dog tired after a very hot day.
Took an early morning walk from the campsite into the Gorge for some great photos which unfortunately couldn't capture the primeval sounds of the white cockatoos echoing through the
gorge. I half expected to see dinosaurs around each bend in the track. No dinosaurs, but plenty of freshwater crocodiles which live in the pools of the gorge and come out onto the sandy
banks to bake as the sun rises. From here we rode to Bell Gorge and walked the rocky 1.5km to the waterfall and pools. I could easily have spent all day here (others were doing exactly
that), but after a paddle to get the riding gear nice and wet to keep me cool we walked back to the bikes and retraced our tracks back to the Gibb River Road. The Bell Gorge detour was
to become an issue as the fuel stop shown on Jack's map supplied only diesel, and it was still quite a hike to the next roadhouse. By riding ever so gently I squeezed 96km out of reserve
but that was still 5km too little to get me to the roadhouse. Jack to the rescue, he took my jerry can on and came back with a few more litres so I could ride to Mount
Barnett Roadhouse. This was the most expensive petrol since Carnegie station, at $1.97 per litre. On again to the night's stop, at Ellenbrae homestead, with the last twenty kilometres
being ruined by a tour bus that doggedly refused to respond to my request on channel 40 to let me pass. This despite the fact that I know he heard me as he was chatting for a while on
that same channel with a local road crew. The dust behind the bus was completely impenetrable (the Kimberley dust was worse than any we encountered elsewhere), so I had to hang back and crawl
along until the Ellenbrae turnoff. Bastard. For $5 the campsite was very nicely set up a short distance from the homestead, with BBQ and donkey-heated shower.
Next morning Jack got away first and I was some fifteen minutes behind. After about a half hour of travel I got stuck behind the same Swagman tourbus that had baulked me the night
before. Bastard, bastard. He eventually pulled over (not for me, just to show his tourists some scenery), and I was past. Shortly after, after a winding descent, I arrived at the Pentecost
River where Jack was already waiting on the other side. I called him up on the CB and he suggested that keeping left was the go. I got a passing 4x4 to take my tank bag full of camera
gear and other electronics, then set off across the river. Lucky I had taken that precaution as I misinterpreted 'keep left' as 'go left' and ended up on big rocks which soon had me and the
bike beat, and down I went. Jack waded in and between us we got the bike dragged back onto the crossing proper, after which it was an easy ride out. Jack stopped to dry his socks, I
just emptied my boots and pushed on. We reached Kununurra quite early but it is a very pleasant township so we stopped for the day anyway. There is lots of water available courtesy of
nearby Lake Argyle and various irrigation channels running from it, so the town and surrounding area are very green. The place has a real cared-for feeling, quite different to many of the
townships seen elsewhere on this trip. Jack and I had planned to camp at the same caravan park but got our wires crossed and ended up at different parks - both overlooking the lake, but a
few kilometres apart. Jack was staying another day in Kununurra and I was moving on, so we said our farewells by phone rather than over a cold one as planned.
On my own for the rest of the trip, I began with an easy ride out of Kununurra but turned off soon enough onto the dirt of the Buchanan Highway, a historic stock route. The first part of
this run was quite twisty in places with lots of loose gravel, so attention was required. Some good scenery though. Passing Victoria Downs Station, the yards were full of horses,
helicopters and light aircraft - obviously a very big operation. This was another day with a very stiff crosswind/headwind, which was wearing but kept the dust down and made it easier to
pass the odd bit of traffic which I encountered. I had planned to end the day at Top Springs but it wasn't too inviting so I refuelled and continued on badly corrugated dirt roads to Daly
Waters where the camping was fine for just $6. The Michelin Desert, new in Broome, was already looking pretty sad. It doesn't wear nearly as well as the D908, although it also doesn't
compromise the handling like the Dunlop.
I called Dalby Moto and arranged to have my part-worn Heidenau rear tyre shipped to Mount Isa, then headed east to Cape Crawford to refuel at Heartbreak Hotel and enquire about the road
conditions past Borroloola. Couldn't get much information so I rode on anyway to Borroloola where I asked again at the police station. They reckoned that there were some water
crossings (normally dry at this time of year but still flowing due to the late wet), but no real problems, so I pressed on. There were some corrugations on the recently graded road but
these were not too bad once I let some air out of the tyres. Of the water crossings, two were shallow and straightforward but the Robinson River was flowing fairly strongly and looked a
bit deep, so I walked it first. By keeping to the downstream edge of the crossing I was able to avoid the depths and all went well. The ride was going well until the low fuel light came on at just
210km. I squeezed 100km out of reserve then added my spare fuel from the jerry can and made it, just, to Hell's Gate Roadhouse. The road had become a lot worse on crossing from NT
into Queensland. "Better roads for Queensland"? We need them! Hell's Gate will be the destination for the next OCR, in two years time, so I passed on the news to the current managers.
They hadn't heard this from anyone else so I can probably claim to be the first bike through there since the decision was made at Gascoyne Junction. Camped here for the night.
I refuelled (expensive, at $1.89), then rode steadily to conserve tyres and chain, all of which were on their last legs. One stretch was newly graded and in perfect condition so it was pretty
annoying having to keep the speed down. The water crossings on this stretch were all dry, just as well as they look set up to handle serious volumes of water and would be a real
challenge when flowing. I filled up bike and jerry can at Tiranna roadhouse (much more reasonably priced than Hell's Gate up the road, someone is ripping off the traveller), before turning
south for Mount Isa. My RACQ map of Queensland didn't show fuel stops so I wasn't sure that I could ride into Lawn Hill NP on my fuel range. Instead I tried to take the scenic route
through the dirt roads to Mount Isa. This didn't work out as I missed the turnoff somehow, so I ended up detouring via Cloncurry and riding into Mount Isa just after dark. Both of the town's campsites
were pretty ordinary and a ripoff at $17 per night. I unfortunately had to be there to hopefully meet up with my Heidenau tyre the following day.
Next day I hoped that my tyre would turn up as promised and packed up camp. No tyre had arrived at the Post Office so I found the local Followmont depot and asked there. No tyre here
either and after multiple phone calls no idea where it was as their tracking system had 'lost' it. I tried and failed to get a new chain, as the local KTM dealer was not authorised to work on
the V twins, left Dalby Moto and Followmont to try to trace my tyre between them, and decided to move on - very steadily, given the state of tyres and chain. Pulled into Winton at dusk,
didn't much like the look of the available campsites, so rode on again and pulled into a roadside stop shortly after dark. Seemed wiser than continuing in the dark and risking hitting a
kangaroo...
Up at dawn and on the road by 0700. At 0800, riding steadily and in full light, I suddenly felt an almighty thump and was riding with my windscreen in my lap - without seeing anything of
what I had hit. I pulled up and walked back to the scene of the crime, and sure enough - one dead 'roo. Strike one emu, and one kangaroo. The bike had ploughed straight through this
time as well, so I was fine but the bike was looking quite secondhand - screen gone, both side panels creased and pushed back by the impact, indicator gone etc. The steering was
compromised by the pushed-back bodywork but the bike was still rideable. I rode the remaining 80km into Longreach and hunted out the local RACQ agent before phoning RACQ to invoke
my Ultracare to hopefully get me and bike shipped home. Shipping myself home worked out well, with an overnight bus to Brisbane followed by another bus to Noosa, with the bike to
follow. Once home it transpired that RACQ would ship the bike but only after it was repaired, and there are no KTM dealers in Longreach. No drama though, my bike insurer
gives me my choice of repairer and will ship the bike to the Sunshine Coast for repair. Once home I also chased up the location of my missing tyre, which turned out to be... Brisbane! Egg
on the face of Followmont but they made up for it by shipping the tyre straight to my home, which worked out better than having to retrieve it from Mt. Isa.
So, not quite the ending I would have wished for the trip, but maybe something of a blessing in disguise as I half expected tyres or chain to let me down if I had to ride the remaining
1,500km home, and now the bike will get carried home. And I know that a few BMW fans will have scathing comments about chains, in which case I suggest that you re-read the story
above and count the number of BMW's to have drivechain problems on this same trip. I think this was one rally where the Beemers had it pretty tough! To be fair, the tally of man and
machine failures was very high all round. It proved to be a tough trip for quite a few. All part of the fun!
~ Steve
Category Rides ~
Category Dirt Rides ~
Category Camping ~
Category Long Distance ~
Category Rallies
The Wild Geese
