In the Australian Outback there is a requirement to leave a considerable gap between bikes on dirt roads,
but I felt Andy was too far back, travelling too slowly.
My relief at seeing him appear in my rear-view mirror soon turned to concern.
He's too close to the edge of the track.
The two foot high sand drift along the edge of the track to Mungo National Park
was not a good place to ride a heavily laden 650cc overland trail bike.
As I peered into my mirror the bike and rider following disappeared beneath
a mushroom cloud of blood red sand.
Day one. Lesson One, never close the throttle in sand.
Both Andy and the bike survived largely unscathed, the sand drift actually not
a bad place to tumble off a bike, in retrospect. Minds suitably focussed, we
became better dirt riders by the hour.
The first effect of being on non-bitumen roads is that the front wheel moves.
It twitches with every stone, tries to follow a rut and would quite like to
sink-in and stop in sand. The initial queasyness of riding a bike behaiving
in this way soon eases when you discover the technique of holding the power on, always,
and maintaining a vice-like grip on the handlebars.
A motorbike is not steered as such, it is always a question of subtle
body-movements with very light touches of the bars.
On loose ground, it is the rear wheel which largely causes direction changes, the front can
buck and twitch, if you hold the power on and point that front wheel roughly
where you want to be, it works.
It's a miracle, but it works. Mostly.
Creek crossings provide the added
excitement of not being able to see clearly the rocks and pot-holes you are
about to encounter.
We'd keep a thumb over the engine kill switch, as an immersed bike with it's
engine running will take in water, leading to catastrophic fluid-lock in the cylinder.
Corrugations are ridges a few centimetres high which run across the tracks and
cause a horrible hammering vibration. Thankfully our bikes have a lot of
locknuts and threadlock retro-fitted and held together.
Most Outback roads are deemed closed in wet weather, riding them risks heavy
fines (1,000 dollars per wheel). Occaisionally we'd encounter wet
dirt roads and they are truly scary for the two-wheeler.
The natural weaving
of the bike through the soft stuff is exaggerated by the nicely lubricated
mud. The back wheel has to deal with the tread pattern becoming
clogged, creating a slick tyre.
There were many, many times, particularly on the last day, that I thought a
mud bath was imminent.
In the dry, talcum-powder fine bulldust is kicked up by vehicles. We referred
to riding second as 'In The Grey Room'. The high incidence of kangaroo,
wallaby, feral pig, emu, bulls and sheep provide a uniquely Australian challenge.
But meeting the challenge was the most enjoyable part of the trip.
When the track was just loose enough to cause you to hold every muscle tense
for hours on end, stealing a quick glance at the view, or ducking under an
eagle, or a flock of Zebra Finches, you felt truly in touch with the land.
So many tracks provided sheer motorcycling bliss. A handful of vehicles per day,
sublime surroundings and always the promise of more over the next rise,
or tomorrow, or next week...
On the first part of the journey, I was looking at all the life,
there were plants and birds and rocks and things, there was sand and hills and rhynes.
See us on Page 76 of Chris Scott's latest Adventure Motorcycling Handbook !
We'd keep a thumb over the engine kill switch, as an immersed bike with it's
engine running will take in water, leading to catastrophic fluid-lock in the cylinder.