Townsville to Geraldton by Motorbike

* Article original written for W.A. Senior’s Journal

I had always had an interest in motorcycles since my first 1935 Triumph 500cc side-valve bought (not working) for £5 in 1948 when I was fifteen. Since then I have owned, amongst others, a BSA Bantam, an old Coventry Eagle, a Brough Superior, a Triumph Tiger 100 and two Triumph Speed Twins. During my early family-raising days I gave up motor-cycling, but when I eventually went back to the local university full-time I was forced by economic necessity to return to motor-cycling. Since then, I have had a 350 Yamaha, two Honda 350s, and finally a Honda CX500. This latter I kept until 1988 after which our financial situation improved and at the urging of my mother in law; I got out of motorcycling altogether. So it was not from necessity that I decided to buy what has become my last motor bike, a Yamaha XT600 and ride it across Australia. This came about when I was visiting an English cousin and he suggested we should both ride across Australia on off-road machines. I got quite enthused and back home in Australia I looked up the possible route and costs. Sad to say, a month before departure my cousin was stricken with a prostate problem which prevented him joining me. I’m glad to say this has since cleared up. I did consider giving up the idea, but thought, “Oh well, I’ve come this far, I’ve got the money, I’m retired and I’ll go.” You never know when illness will strike.

So I bought a Yamaha XT600 fitted with semi-knobbys, which I was assured was a good tyre compromise for both road and off-road work. Now, although I was still competent on a bike on surfaced roads, I had no experience off-road, so I went to a local off-road school and learned the rudiments. They did a good job with me but all the training was on bumpy, gravelly but mainly hard roads, and I got quite a shock on the trip when I first hit ten-centimetre deep bull dust (the fine talcum like powder on many remote rural roads in Australia). I needed to carry a tent, stores and spares, so I had a super carrier made in stainless steel which could accommodate everything. The throttle (accelerator on a bike) was modified to stay at a certain opening. Basically, it was a jamming lever, giving me a crude “cruise control” (it worked brilliantly). So that I could and did often ride ‘no-handed’ on the long empty straights on some of the paved road.

The appointed day arrived and, fully loaded, I went first to the Coral Sea at Townsville to dip my tyres in it, and hoped to do the same in the Indian Ocean at Geraldton W.A. when I arrived.

 

My route from Townsville was to be on paved roads to Boulia via Winton, then on to the dusty unsurfaced Plenty Highway, keeping on the dirt until nearing Alice Springs; good road to Ayers Rock (Uluru); then the long dirt Docker River road across W.A., finishing on a mostly surfaced road into Geraldton.

On the eve of departure day, May 7 2002, I found it hard to sleep and set off for Boulia at 6.15 a.m., and was glad to arrive safely at about 5.40 p.m. My wrists were a bit stiff and my bottom was sore, but I was in good shape otherwise. In Boulia I took a motel room and early next day got onto the dusty Plenty Highway.

Shortly after getting onto the very soft dirt, I realised that I didn’t really have the necessary skills or nerve to be a successful off-road rider. I nearly lost the bike twice running into deep patches of bull dust. Then I was almost written off by road trains.

These usually carry cattle, are fifty metres long, and driven at high speed, raising a big dust cloud. I stayed on the road, moving slowly as the road train approached; it was fairly close to me as it passed, but there was a second one close behind that I had not seen. I don’t think he saw me at all and missed me by about a metre. I don’t blame the drivers but I was thoroughly unnerved; from then on I always kept an eye open for dust clouds ahead and behind and got off the road whenever one came up.

Rarely could I get going faster than 80 kph and when I slid in the dust and nearly came off, I would slip back to 50 for a while until my courage returned. Some experienced off-track riders I met told me that you should just wind back the throttle to 100 kph or more and not worry.

They could certainly do it, as they sped off into the distance; but I could only look on enviously.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE OLGAS AND AYERS ROCK (NOW CALLED ULURU IN ABORIGINAL)

So it took me longer than anticipated to get to Alice, where I had an R & R day before setting off for the dirt of the Docker River Road. This was another 1000 kilometre stretch of dirt from Ayers’ Rock to Laverton. The surface was not as bad as the Plenty Hwy and with my spare fuel cans I had enough to stretch between Warakurna and Tjirrkarli Road Houses and Laverton. I had done nearly 2000 kilometres on dirt and was improving as a rider, but a bit of over-confidence brought me off. With only about 100 kilometres of dirt to go I hit some thick bull dust and got into a wobble which got bigger as I decelerated then the front wheel slid away and I was off.

Fortunately I wasn’t going fast and I came off in thick dust with my padded clothing protecting me. The bike was OK—the oversize luggage rack took all the impact, and I was soon (slowly) on my way. Nothing else of note happened. I reached a surfaced road into Lenora met a small stretch of dirt around Sandstone then roared into Mullewa and finally Geraldton on a good road. A night in a motel, and I dipped the tyres in the Indian Ocean—I was across.

The rear tyre was badly worn and I had to buy another in Geraldton. The choice was either a road tyre or a full off-road knobby. I thought about returning across Australia by going Geraldton to Three Ways via Halls Creek and Katherine on the sealed north coast road, but this was 1200 kilometres further. Finally, I opted for the knobby and went back on the dirt mostly the way I had come as far as Alice Springs where my resolve crumbled. So I bought a road tyre in Alice Springs and stayed on paved highway all the way back to Townsville (what a coward-afraid to ride in the dirt!). I breathed a sigh of relief as I sped past the Plenty Highway, knowing that I need not face its rocks, potholes and dust. I camped my way back to Townsville without anything more exciting than dodging some horses and kangaroos. I passed Woodstock, near Townsville, as the sun started to set and arrived home, just before real dark set in, to a good roast dinner and wifely welcome.

So here endeth the last long bike ride of N. Taylor. I had thought of motorcycling to Cape York some day, but decided I was not an off-road rider, and sold the bike and equipment soon after. The whole exercise cost me about $2500, including losses on the bike and equipment sale. In future, I think I will stick to sailing, where I believe that I really know what I am doing.

Norman Taylor 2002. (Taken from my trip diary.)