Distance: 533km
Dep: 6:00am
Arr: 6:00pm
Temperature: 7°C - 22°C
Total distance to date: 11,986km
Route:
- Wauchope (Devils Marbles)
- Ghan (Erldunda Roadhouse)
- Yulara
Caption: The Australian Outback is so quiet and remote that it somehow forces you to pay attention to certain things we'd normally miss in the city. The crowded mind finally finds peace out here.
Steph and I are the type of people to simply... 'get on with it'. We both woke up around 5am, exchanged glances, and silently slipped out of bed to start our day. We knew what the day was about to entail for us. Well, part of it, at least. I mean, if we knew what the future entailed, would it really be an adventure?
We packed our gear neatly into their allocated spots and I went out to check tyre pressures while Steph went through to do a gear sweep of the place. The flies that stayed with us overnight were now crowded around the light, which seemed to be the only light in existence this early in the morning. Nena's rear pressure: 12psi.
(If Nena could read my mind)
Me: "I am so sorry you are going through this baby. Your poor little shoe has had enough."
Non-riders would assume that being emotionally attached to a machine is silly at best, but they also couldn't understand how this machine has been the lifeblood of this trip, and has carried me safely without a hitch for nearly 12,000kms. I've spent exactly 5 weeks either straddling or caring for this machine, and she's spent the same amount of time doing the best job she can. Nena deserves a new rear tyre, but the real question is - from where?
Our new best mate Michael was patiently waiting in his truck (which was large enough to make the forklift he was carrying look like a toy). I gingerly brought Nena away from the campground and into the roadhouse area so we don't disturb all our diesel-consuming neighbours.
Caption: Nena attached to a portable air compressor, stocking up on some fresh psi for later.
An electric, portable air compressor is an essential item to bring around on a trip like this. It was only few minutes of hearing its little motor go burrrrr while we firmed up our plan with Michael. The sky had just started to reveal its "fairy floss" colours (as Kate calls them) and the temperature, although crisp, was delightful for the amount of moving around we had been doing. Now filled to 44 psi and losing fractions of pressure per second, we hit the road with our new road train friend at the end of our convoy.
Nena didn't seem to mind whether we were going 90kph or 140kph - it doesn't really affect her fuel consumption as it always hovered around 5.3L/100km. Winona the MT-09 does in fact care. In fact she has an "Eco Mode" in which she sips the least amount of fuel at 100-120kph and uses 5L/100km. For the first time since we left Melbourne, we sat at just below the speed limit just to squeeze every last drop of mileage we could get from Winona's tank. We only had about 90km, and with no fuel gauge on Winona, it was anyone's guess as to when she'll putter out.
Much of the first ride toward Barrow Creek was flat, straight, and chockers full of fuel anxiety. The sun was only halfway up into the sky when we saw the slightest incline and curved road in the distance. Steph and I were on intercom for most of the ride as well, with the majority of conversation hovering on when Winona would give out.
(Approaching the only hill on this road)
Steph: "Wouldn't it be funny if it died on this hill?"
Me: "It's also a blind left with no shoulder. That would be hilarious. Of all the places to die..."
Steph: "It's.... it's happening..."
Me: "What?"
Steph: "It happened."
Caption: We had to go across the road to a shoulder that was flat and wide enough for a truck to meet us here.
I checked the rear view mirror to find the glowing headlight of an MT-09 quickly disappearing behind me. I found a shoulder to pull off to, along with Michael's voice through Steph's intercom, then spun a U-turn and rolled onto a wide, off-cambar, rocky shoulder while Michael took off toward Barrow Creek with our 5L and 10L jerry cans. Because of our mileage-milking strategy, we ended up only 12km from Barrow Creek, which is only minutes if you're rolling and half a day if you're walking. I checked Nena's psi once the tyre cooled down - 39 psi. Down 5 from when we started 40 minutes ago.
Caption: Michael comes back with the goods - 15L of fresh power juice for both bikes.
It only took 30 minutes (according to photo timestamps) for Michael to get to the petrol station, drop his trailer, grab our fuel, and reappear in front of us with full jerry cans in tow. We thanked him profusely with a plan to grab breakfast at Ti Tree together. The entire predicament may have added another 90 minutes to our already long day, but it was better than standing on the side of the road battling an army of flies. Besides, we genuinely wanted to get to know this nice, humble man from Townsville, and it was a pleasure hearing about his life touring the country.
Caption: Nena's tyre continues to bubble despite having a fresh plug put in yesterday. Time for a tyre swap!
I still needed to sort Nena's tyre, which was rapidly losing psi by the second. Reception out here was non-existent, which meant it was near impossible to even look up any motorcycle shops in our next stop at Alice Springs. Once Google Maps eventually loaded, calling was of little help because the friendly chap on the other side couldn't hear me through static.
There are residual Telstra payphones all around the country. Relics from generations past, before the rise of personal handheld phones. I am of the last generation to use these, at the cost of $0.25 per call back in the day. Now free of charge, Jetcor Alice Springs could finally hear me and within minutes I had a tyre change sorted.
Caption: We made it to Alice Springs!
We bid our goodbyes to Michael and rode a steady and mentally concentrated 194km to Alice Springs, a township in the heart of Australia that is situated nearly directly between Darwin and Adelaide. Within minutes, Nena was rolled to the back and Steph left to grab us a hearty lunch of meat pies from the BP.
Caption: Jetcor Alice Springs were able to slot us in for a quick tyre change. Great service and a fast changeover - exceptional price too!
The UV was insanely strong, so much so that I was already burning when I made any contact with sunlight. Despite being slathered with sunscreen and lip balm, my entire face was already tender - then I put a hot pie to my mouth, and managed to sear my already compromised lips to a blistering crisp. Cheaper than lip filler and with a faster result than botox.
An hour spent in Alice Springs meant continuing onto a 450km ride at 2:30pm. My head cold has settled in nicely and I was blowing my nose every few seconds. I looked like a Temu lovechild of Kylie Jenner and Mr Krabs all thanks to the rays of the sun licking my face through my visor all day. My burnt lips were so tender I had to drink water by squirting it in my mouth [that's what she said].
Heading southbound from Alice Springs there is a rather astonishing view of Mount Johns as you pass through The Gap. A sharp right turn comes out of nowhere, keeping us on the A87 instead of the road to the airport, and a completely empty road lead us 200km south toward Ghan (Erldunda Roadhouse). Having passed through here multiple times, I've never known it to be quiet. It's a hotspot for tourists because of its position as the last main roadhouse before Yulara, and at the corridor between Alice Springs and Adelaide. It also has a few feathered mates that thousands of travellers have taken selfies with over the years.
Caption: One of the many residents of Erldunda Roadhouse at Ghan, before the turnoff toward Yulara.
Google Maps reckons it'll take us 2.5 hours to get from Ghan to our last stop in Yulara (a resort town near Uluṟu). This means we'd arrive after sunset, while suffering through squinted eyes thanks to our final westbound travel toward the setting sun. We reckon Google Maps isn't familiar with high powered motorbikes, so we took a few sips of water and flicked on the engines.
Caption: The sun is still nice and high in the sky, but as it makes its way toward the horizon, things get increasingly difficult to see.
Westbound travel during the afternoon does make it more difficult to see, especially while riding a motorbike. Shadows become longer and come right toward you, while the glare of the direct sunlight makes you naturally squint. Cows stood on the side of the road, camouflaged by the sun's glare up until the point where we were nearly beside them. My eyes were watering from congestion and I was blowing my nose into my own hand. Getting blasted by cold desert air kept our body temperatures at a minimum.
Caption: I wasn't even posing for this shot, I was actually quite tired - only 50km to go until we reach Yulara and the sun is setting quickly. We're also wearing all the longsleeve tops we could manage before looking too Michelin Man.
Difficulties aside, it was a doable ride. Sure, we were sore everywhere below the eyebrows, but the roads were safe and smooth, and at times the road seemed to lead straight toward the sun. I thought to myself that if I died one day, this would probably be the last sight I'd see - riding my favourite bike straight toward a glowing light, feeling the way I'm feeling: free.
Caption: Steph refuelling Winona during our one and only stop in the 250km sprint to Yulara.
We were cautious but determined to put our efforts into modern teleportation and were able to shave 30 minutes off our total time.
Caption: Theft can be an issue here, and we aren't taking chances.
Rocking up to Yulara was a breeze as we have been here before on a separate trip, on the way back from the Simpson Desert. Familiarity was so important when you've just spent the last 12 hours travelling.
We checked in, locked our bikes up near our room, and stripped down to near nothing. Two queen sized beds meant going full starfish mode to recover.
(15 minutes later)
Steph: "You hungry?"
Me: "Yep."
Steph: "Let's go."
