Distance: 777km
Dep: 7:30am
Arr: 5:30pm
Temperature: 16°C - 30°C
Total distance to date: 7822km
Route:
- Exmouth
- Ningaloo
- Nanutarra
- Karratha
- Port Hedland
Caption: The road from Exmouth to Nanutarra was very quiet. Bliss.
On reflection of my entire ride in 2017, I was grossly underprepared.
I had tools, just enough to stay lucky, but nothing to truly get me out of trouble. I didn't have any tyre repair kit, no air compressor, jump starter, or any other basics that one should have when spending weeks on the road in remote areas.
What made me aware that these are necessities were experiences that have happened since. in the last 8 years, I've had multiple flat tyres (thanks, tradie neighbour!) and dead batteries (thanks, Quadlock!) so, for this trip we've over-packed on such potentially lifesaving tools. I also love being hands on, so if there's a problem with any of my bikes, I enjoy researching to see if I can fix it myself.
The problem with relying on your phone as an alarm is that it needs enough battery to last until it goes off. I had been relying on my (until today, predictable) body clock that has woken me up every morning at 5:30am. Today, during one of the longest rides of the trip, the phone died overnight and we both slept in. We wanted to be on the road by 7am to get to Port Hedland at a decent hour, and woke up at 6:30am amongst an explosion of gear on every possible surface of the cabin.
We packed in haste, got the bags onto the bikes, and I went to jump the small curb we were parked on and onto the road.
I knew something was up immediately. It made a noise I hadn't heard before, and the back of the bike sagged way too low to be comfortable. We had to get our tyre pressures checked anyway, and our first stretch before another petrol station was 277km. This meant we had to fill our jerry cans for the first time.
We made our way to the nearest Ampol.
Winona (MT-09) tires:
- Expected Front psi: 40
- Real Front psi: 39
- Expected Rear psi: 42
- Real Rear psi: 41
Nena's Tyres:
- Expected Front psi: 40
- Real Front psi: 38
- Expected Rear psi: 42
- Real Rear psi: 20
I checked 3 times for my own sanity. Unfortunately the gauge was correct.
Caption: My new little nail friend blowing a spit bubble at me. Rude.
*Sigh.*
Amanda: It's a puncture. I'll roll my bike and you tell me when to stop.
As agreed, Steph stopped me when she found a shiny looking head of a nail well-embedded off to the left of centre of Nena's rear tyre.
I stared at it for a while, and as it looked quite embedded, we decided to refill the PSI up to 44 and ride to the next stop with the nail still in.
Caption: Posing with one of the many sand dunes (in the background) on the way toward the National Highway 1 turnoff from Exmouth.
The bike handled exactly like a BMW would on a race track in warm weather. Nena didn't seem to notice she was slightly wounded and happily responded to the throttle when it was asked of her. The scenery and air temperature were straight out of a feel good movie. I attempted to catch some of the views on my Insta360, only to be awestruck by an even better view a few kilometres later. The sun was cloaked behind a thin layer of clouds, which then caused soft shadows to appear on the road ahead of us. It felt like we were underwater and the waves above us made the sunlight dance on the road in slow motion.
Caption: A beautiful cloud formation above us as we temporarily went southbound to leave Exmouth.
It was 166km to cut off into a T-interection higher north the one we entered from near Minilya, making what would be a 320km ride shorter by 43km. Of course, I went on autopilot and totally missed the turnoff, so we chucked a U-ey and continued our journey toward National Highway 1.
Convinced our tanks now had enough room to fit 5L of fuel in, we pulled off to the side and unpacked the jerrys from Nena's panniers and emptied the cans. The safest place for fuel is the fuel tank, though we wanted to make sure we didn't have to stop more than once.
Caption: Refuelling Nena on the side of the road for the first time. Her range is typically 250-300km per tank, but Outback conditions (wind and speed of travel) play a huge part in fuel economy. Better safe than sorry to get to Nanutarra.)
A simple left turn got us onto the main road bound for Nanutarra. Rock formations started appearing all around us, deep red with flattened tops and obvious signs of millions of years of erosion. 277km doesn't feel as long when you're treated to some refreshing new sights every few hundred kilometres.
Caption: A few things have changed since 2017, especially that map at Nanutarra Roadhouse. I mean, look at the boldness of the new sign and the updated graphic design. Incredible.
Nanutarra Roadhouse was a good opportunity to try one of the region's best sausage rolls (admittedly they were very good) and a salad roll for some much needed nutrition. I popped some rubber glue into the puncture and pressed into it using a sticker off the ground. I had my doubts that it would work, but having done this in the past and surviving 1000km of sharp twisties over a weekend, I had my hopes up.
Caption: What else could you want in a travel partner? Someone who manages to stay calm even if you are riding around with a hole in your tyre. Steph's also the type of person who would be calm even if the bike is on fire.
We didn't want to faff around with the rising temperature, so we made our way back onto the road as soon as the glue was somewhat dry. As we were turning onto the main highway, we let a compact SUV pass us and followed them for a while. Long story short, never trust an arrogant man behind a wheel after you pass them on a motorbike. This exact situation occured earlier in this trip, but I decided not to write about it. Now, it's happened a second time!
This driver saw us pass, and risked it all to try to maintain our (admittedly Outback-focused) speed and keeping right up behind Steph. Luckily, both Nena and Winona the MT09 have the ability to make cars disappear into the rear view mirror, so we let them do their thing and was able to peacefully ride solo for another hour.
Caption: Longer than usual distances between fuel stations meant getting off the bike midway to stretch and refuel our bikes.
He would have had to break the sound barrier to catch up to us at that point, but those familiar headlights reappeared in our mirrors eventually. We allowed him to pass us by hugging the left line and signalling with our arms to go past - he refused until we slowed down to 70kph. When he finally passed with conviction, he drove just under the speed limit in front of us, unable to maintain any sort of consistency. Why do people do this? We have the entirety of the Outback, just let us be! Steph's theory is that they are incredibly bored while driving these types of roads, so they include us in their roadtrip games.
Caption: Pulling into a rest stop to lose the guy with no speed control whatsoever. See ya!
We pulled out to a rest stop for a refuel and re-sunscreen. By now we could feel the tan forming through our visors. The desert heat was noticeably higher now, but bearable. We kept a 1.5L bottle of 'rubbish water' straight from the tap in our cabins in Exmouth, just so we can wet our shirts and neck gaiters. With nature's air con back at work, we flew past the next hundred kilometres of flat, grassy plains and made it to Karratha in great time.
An icy pole at Karratha made us sit still just long enough to:
- Notice the nail in Nena's tyre is now completely absent
- Speak with a fellow rider who had just come from Port Hedland to join the tail end of the Pilbara's region Toy Run.
A Toy Run is a charity motorcycle ride that aims to collect (mostly) toys, and sometimes clothes or food for families in need. Imagine our surprise when, after travelling for 23 days and rarely seeing another motorcycle rider outside the major cities, we inadvertently joined over 100 cruiser riders while leaving Karratha's otherwise extremely remote petrol station.
Steph and I giggled to each other about how out of place we look on loaded up sporty bikes while literally surrounded by quite the opposite genre everywhere. Understandably, group rides will always travel a bit slower, and multiple road trains on a section of mostly double solid lines made it near impossible to pass. We took advantage of the few opportunities we were given and found ourselves near the front before they turned off the highway to head to the pub. Relieved that we didn't have to pass the leader, we finally picked up the pace and continued on to wrap up our last hundred kilometres before our final destination.
We have never had a slower 100km in the entire trip - literally - because right on the road, in the far distance, looked to be some sort of house with flashing amber lights. It took up the width of both lanes simultaneously. As we crept toward it, we realised it was a large mining truck surrounded by smaller trucks to warn others of its oversized load. It was amusing for the first few kilometres, but with the sun setting behind our backs, it was difficult to think about anything other than to pass them. Unfortunately it was a grassy drop off on both sides of the road, and it's bad etiquette anyway. We pulled into another rest stop to refuel and eat a couple lollies, snap a few photos, and realise we completely forgot to eat lunch.
It wouldn't have mattered how long we took to eat said lollies, because we caught up to the little parade of work vehicles and wide load quickly. We were left with no choice but to sit back and smell the roses at 30kph for a very... very... very long period of time.
Caption: Nothing like chilling behind one of these to force us to be patient.
A section of the road became slightly wider than usual, and the white truck in front of us made a break for it. We followed suit and continued our merry way all the way into the very rust-red town of Port Hedland. Not without combatting approximately 100 vehicles with boats in tow.
With a smithereen of remaining sunlight, we went straight to the accoms, dumped our luggage except 1 of Nena's panniers and her Tully Tailbag, and went straight to the servo with a tyre repair kit. We wanted to be close to an air pump so that I don't use up my Co2 canisters.
Caption: Spot the hole - the nail removed itself somewhere between Nanutarra and Karratha.
How to Plug a Motorcycle Tyre*
- Identify the culprit - A nail, screw, or other foreign object.
- Position the hole at a 45° angle to the ground
- Prep the plug - Pull the plug through the insertion tool - have this ready
- Remove the foreign object (using pliers, or a flathead screwdriver)
- If possible, have someone else hold the front brake so the bike is more stable
- Ream the hole with the reaming tool to make the hole larger and symmetrical - takes some strength!
- Add rubber glue to the plug
- Push the plug inside until the 2 ends are sticking out about 15mm
- (you may need to use your whole body weight for this part)
- Gently pull the insertion tool out, it should cut the plug on its way out so that the plug remains in the tyre
- Cut the excess plug with a razor
- Add rubber glue to the outside of the plug
- Apply water to the hole (or in my case, we had no water, so I used saliva) to check if any air is coming out (in the form of bubbles)
- Pump air back in
- Let the rubber glue set (~30min) though in this case I waited overnight after gingerly riding it back to the accoms at 30kph.
- Check the PSI later to see if anything has leaked
*there are many ways to do this, but based on my own personal experience only, I found this the easiest way.
Caption: Wolverine, from Temu
While we waited for the plug to set, Steph went to get us celebratory Chinese takeaway and a few bottles of water from Woolies. We then proceeded to lay motionless on the bed to let the day catch up to us.
[Day 24: A rest and work day spent by the pool, and 2 separate walks to the only shop open on a Sunday - Woolies (supermarket). We also went for a pleasant walk along the beach once it wasn't so bloody hot.]
Caption: The bond between us is always continually growing the more we go through together.
