Beasts in Jungle

June 7th: Soudan Bore to Avon Downs Rest Area – 64.2 km

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Day 237

No chance of the wind slowing today. It was already gusting at breakfast and continued throughout the day. Although flat it was still slow going with our average speed right around 12 km per hour. The trees that sheltered us somewhat from the wind gave way to grassy fields without a single tree in sight.

In these fields were herds of some the most healthy horses we’ve seen. While most animals run the other way when they see our trikes, horses are drawn to them. An entire herd came right up to the fence to watch us pass.

It was great to have a change in the scenery and the fields were quite beautiful with the clouds casting large shadows over the golden grass. Like the horses we have been broken and have accepted that if the wind keeps up this will be a slow journey. We could pedal all day long at 12 km an hour and we just might have to.

We arrived at Avon Downs Rest Area. There is water and toilets here and some well placed little trees for shade. Although we don’t really need the shade I would guess that the temperature never went above 25 Celsius today. We set up camp and were happy to have gravel instead of powdery red dust.

We ran into a couple traveling with their 3 very young children – a toddler, a 2-year-old and a 6-year-old, who we met in Edith Falls almost 3 weeks ago. Understanding our situation perfectly we were given a cold beer and a lemonade, maybe we should have offered to watch the kids for a few hours. After they complimented us on our bravery, I returned the compliment that they are quite brave, traveling for an extended period with children so young. Darren revealed that he and his wife had asked each other, which would you rather do, caravan with the kids or the trikes without the kids? His wife chose the latter, while he chose former. I have to wonder which we would choose in the same position. Although like most things that are challenging and rewarding, we will probably remember the struggle whether it be children or trikes with selective amnesia, sugar-coating the worst and highlighting the brief moments in the sun.

June 6th: Radio Repeater Tower to Soudan Bore – 54 km

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Day 236

All night the wind made strange noises. It whistled through the towers girders and played individual notes on the barbed wire around it. It was quite eerie. We had just finished watching a horrific episode of Game of Thrones, where Oberyn fights the Mountain. Sweet dreams for us, in the middle of nowhere next to an abandoned building with the wind howling around us. To put myself to sleep, I read a little bit of A Handmaid’s Tale, nothing like a post apocalyptic novel to put me you ease. Cher woke up in the middle of the night and asked, will the tent hold? I said yes, more to assure myself than her. I did get to see the stars though. The moon had set and the sky was so clear that the milky way was clearly visible stretching from horizon to horizon. I could even see some of the subtle twists like an enormous double helix of DNA. Stupidly I had chosen the highest spot on this flat windy landscape to pitch our tent, and the wind was strong enough that it was moving the tent with us in it. We had shifted about 5cm by the time we rolled out of bed.

Of course the bush flies were waiting for us when we got up. They start when the sun comes up and abruptly stop when it goes down. I made Cher breakfast in bed. We had a power breakfast of oatmeal with bananas, chocolate chips, honey and powdered whole milk. Despite our restless night we were in good spirits, though not sure why.

Once again the wind was in our face. We could barely manage 10 km per hour in the morning. It’s like climbing hills all day with no down hill at the end. We weren’t too worried though we only had 54 km to go to get our net stop. We originally planned to do two 90 km days but thankfully we have the option of doing three 60 km days. We have plenty of food and both rest stops have water.

We rolled into Soudan Bore in high spirits. With low traffic and a lull in the wind we have been practicing balance riding. With our hands above our heads we lean side to side and the trike goes the opposite direction.

With plenty of water we each took a shower. Even though the temperatures are around 26, and the water is warm the wind makes your teeth chatter as soon as the water hits you. As I was dumping water over Cher’s head as she washed in her undies a lady stopped and tried to make small chat. Hoping she would recognize this was a bad time I told her “could we please chat later.” Cher, despite having lost some muscle control due to her shivering, took the time to answer some questions. She’s a saint! Which we will need the patience of if the wind keeps up from here to Townsville.

June 5th: Barkly Homestead to a Repeater Tower – 70.5 km

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Day 235

We planned on doing 90 km today but the headwinds were just too strong. John, a solo cyclist in his 60’s, was coming the opposite way and informed us that he was doing 25 kph. He added that all he had to do was stretch out his arms. Cher pointed out that we were going the wrong way, and from what we’ve heard this is going to continue until we reach the coast.

John from Perth doing one of his many grand Australia cycling tours

Although we’ve been told by many that our timing is perfect for the weather, and that’s not a coincidence. I checked the weather. The rainy season ends in mid May, and everywhere we go there are signs that indicated the roads flood, up to 2 meters in some places. Traveling on a bicycle would be impossible. However, I never checked the wind speed and direction. We are on a vast plain and there is little to stop the wind. Which as we’ve been informed is seasonal. Despite the wind meeting John did inspire us to quit our whining and to get moving. We are young and our legs can take a little punishment.

We stopped at a rest area for lunch break. Just when Cher suggested a cup of cold coffee a lady hopped out from her RV offering us hot coffee and tea. As we got to talk, we learned that Angela and Cliff have been traveling for 9 years, practically living on the road and doing seasonal farm work. In the meantime we were offered 2 bananas, 2 oranges, a can of tuna to go with our pasta dinner, a sleeve of cookies to go with our tea, and a jar of bush fly repellant. We couldn’t thank them enough, and I had to reserve my negative judgment about caravaners and RVers from our not so pleasant encounter 2 nights ago.

Having reached our new goal of 70 km we began looking for a flat place to camp. I saw a radio repeater tower in the distance and assumed it would have some flat ground around it. The towers were first erected to relay as early telegraph repeater but now transmit more modern signals. Following a dirt road we made it to the top of a very gradual slope overlooking the flat countryside.

It was windy and the bush flies took refuge on the lee side of our jackets. Bush flies are not house flies as Cher discovered and don’t like shady areas. We went into an abandoned building that used to hold batteries and not a fly followed. Outside in the wind they continue to harass us. They don’t bite, but they do want what little protein, moisture of salt they can get from your nose, ears, mouth or exposed skin. Finally the sun set and the flies disappeared.

We cooked at and prepared to watch an episode of Game of Thrones. Yes, we’re traveling but we’re not a nun and a monk living in a cloister.

June 4th: 41 Mile Bore to Barkley Road House – 112.9 km

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Day 234

Initially we intended to have a short 60km day and camp at Frewena Rest Area, but the tap at the rest area was broken. There was a huge tank, on stilts, probably filled with water, but unless I hop over a barbed wire fence and risk draining the thing by monkeying with the pipes, then we would have to keep moving.

Thorny Dragon

We had enough water for a long day but we hadn’t filled all of the water bottles that we brought. Had we stayed, we would have finished that water we carried before the following day so we decided to keep moving. Once again the wind was picking up and daylight was running short. Our legs were still fresh from the previous 2 days rest and we were able to power into the wind at around 13 kph for the next 3 hours. Just as the sun set we arrived at Barkley Homestead.

We were exhausted and so we decided to treat ourselves to a couple of burgers. They were ok, not as nearly as good at Daly Waters. We also splurged and used the washing machine, it would be at least 2 days until we had a clean cloths. Or plan was to finish the next stretch in 2 90km days. We would pass by some spots to get water, top up, continue on and camp in the bush. With this in mind we filled our 23 liters, and prepared to wake up early.

June 3rd: Tennant Creek to 41 Mile Bore – 92.46 km

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Day 233

The triumph of trikes toured from Tennant Creek to Threeways, and then we stopped and had a coffee at the road house. On our way with 5 of us on the road, we were highly visible and felt safe enough to have a chat riding side by side.

Brian remarked that it felt like one of the fastest 25 kilometers that he had done. Cher broke away to have a chat with Veronique, I chatted with Brian and Pierre amused himself with his seemingly endless supply of energy by taking the lead, dropping way back, before double timing to the lead. We were treated yet again to coffee and a drink, we said our heartfelt goodbyes and went our separate ways.

Although the wind was in our face, we made good time to 41 Bore, which as it states has water.

When we arrived we noticed that a caravan had parked right in front of the public picnic table. We were not deterred, since we don’t have a table and chairs built into our tent. Even though they had set up a radio, and their other belongings we moved right in and set up our small stove and groceries on the other half of the table. Then we set up our tent in their “front yard,” and like a couple of hobos Cher went over to the water tank in her undies to have a rinse and I strung our bag shower from a tree.

Most caravaners have been wonderful, but every now and again you meet a couple of downers. They make sure to tell you everything that they can’t or won’t do, even though you haven’t asked them.

– It must be hot out there.
– Yep.
– I could never pedal all day.
– Um hm
– Headwinds are really strong, our fuel consumption doubled. There are some wide open fields out there with nothing to stop the wind.
– Yes, we’ve heard.
– Aren’t you afraid the road trains? (as her and her husband chain smoke cigarettes.)
– Yes, we’re careful.
– We’re way too old.
– Most cyclists we’ve met are in their 50’s or older.
– They must have been cyclist before they started.
– …

My theory is that they would like to do something challenging, and they imagine that we’re challenging them to do it. The monologue is a way to let themselves off the hook. We know it’s not for everybody and some days, even though we chose it, we dream of being in a caravan or fantasizing about going out for dinner and drinks. Cher and I laugh at the thought of approaching random caravaners and looking longingly into their homes, it must be cold in there, you sleep on soft beds right? you have a shower every day? Creepy, isn’t it.

In the end they lightened up and did their best to give us some information about what lies ahead. Even if their assessment inferred that we would be emotionally and physically scarred from the effort.

June 2nd: Rest Day and a Triumph is Born!

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Day 232

We met up in the morning unloaded, and Pierre demonstrated some trike tricks like riding on two wheels and then we tried each other’s rides.

Cat Trikes feel more like a sports car, a bit stiffer and you can really feel the power transfer with each stroke of the pedal. Our ICE trikes are more like a Cadillac, a bit softer and not as fast, but more comfortable, depending on who you ask.

After a photo session to mark this unprecedented random gathering, these were the first trikes either of our groups had run into on our various tours, we rode into town for a cup of coffee.

When we walked into town, no one even acknowledged us, unless we were in each other’s path and then only a polite excuse me as we walked by. When we rode into town, we received hellos, waves, and smiles. Trikes are ambassadors of good will.

Having our coffee Brian asked, what do we call a group of trikes? A group of crows is a murder, a group of dolphins is a pod and now a group of trikes is a triumph. Our new friends insisted on paying for our coffee and we agreed to have a trikers meal that evening. We met later that evening, utilizing the camp kitchen we made enough food to make the table sag. Not wanting to miss the opportunity for a group ride, Pierre urged us to join them until Threeways. Cher and I were hesitant, since they were much faster and we feared we would hold them up. But they insisted and we agreed to an early start at 7:30am.

That night Cher and I packed and had to come up with a creative way to store the eight days of groceries we had bought as well as the 23 liters of water total we planned on carrying. I garbage picked several used plastic water bottles from the recycling bin and we washed and filled them. We would need to carry water for 2 days at a time, including breakfast and dinner. We calculated that we consume about 11 liters per day and this includes oatmeal, and coffee in the morning and pasta for dinner. We have found that if we bring pasta to a boil in our 1 liter pot and then let it sit for 7 or 8 minutes, it cooks and absorbs most of the water. It’s not always al dente but it saves fuel and water. We considered buying freeze-dried camping meals but found that for one meal they were 10 to 15 AUD each, whereas a bag of pasta cost a dollar or less, and with sauce, some hard-boiled eggs, or canned fish, we can have a good meal for quite cheap. Packed and prepared we were confident that we could cross the outback without dehydration, hunger or going broke.

June 1st: Rest Day in Tennant Creek

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Day 231

Last night there was a party. We heard singing, laughing, screaming, music, and revelry until all hours. On every side of the caravan there was a different kind of pandemonium, with dogs barking, the corrugated steel fence surrounding the caravan park rattled and banged. The following day the main street which was filled with aborigines socializing, shopping and going about their daily affairs were deserted with only a few people here and there. It was difficult to imagine that these were the same people that we saw on our way to the store the other afternoon, who were quiet, and avoided our gaze when I was just giving a friendly glance. Although we didn’t see who was partying we would have to guess there were more than a few people nursing some serious hangovers.

Anthills dressed up

We spent the day catching up on the blog, which seemed to be a never ending battle. We did avoid the daily dose of wasted time on the Internet, but we had to dedicate all the rest days to the updates. Internet out here is scarce, and when we do have it we are using it to solve our day to day needs, like locating water, food and shelter.

From here to the next major town – Mount Isa is 658 km and we don’t want to be forced to buy double priced groceries, or go hungry in between. We should be more concerned about the latter than the former. But since we are now fed, we can worry about our budget, which is going to be much more than we thought. We are already spending about $45 per day, and we’ve only eaten out twice and are living out of a tent all the time.

However as we learned at the Red Rooster, wages are very good here, hence many of the high prices. Once the manager there learned that we were from Hong Kong, he announced that he’s been there 3 times and the last time he brought his family of 8 and they went to Disneyland. Trying to do that on McDonald’s wages in the States, Hong Kong or most places for that matter. Cher and I were amazed.

Today we met a few extraordinary people. We met a lady, 70 years of age, living out of a tent and touring Australia in her little car. She stood out in the crowd of caravans. We started chatting and learned that she had been planning this for a while and when her sister, loosing the battle against Parkinsons urged her to go, reminding her that she may not always have her health. She planned on traveling for at least a year, and hadn’t made definite plans on where to go next. We would have never guessed her age. She was fit and looked perfectly at home in her little tent. She showed all the self sufficiency and capability of a well heeled traveler. Cher and I were inspired.

When we finished our dinner we heard that there were a group of people who just arrived on the same “funny bikes” as we have. Cher and I wandered over to their cabin and began snooping around their trikes. They weren’t home yet but we couldn’t resist. We later found out that they did the same when we were out. Finally we found the other trikers we had been hearing about for the last 2 weeks. Of course they were a quirky and interesting group – Pierre and his partner Veronique from France and their friend Brian from Australia. Each of them were in their 50’s or older, we didn’t ask. They were traveling from the South to the North and were putting in at least 100 km per day. Traveling fast and light on aluminum framed Catrikes with 26 inch rear wheels, they were making quick work of their tour.

We decided to meet with them tomorrow and to take a tour of Tennant Creek and to have a coffee. Cher and I decided within minutes of meeting them that we would be taking another rest day.

May 31st: Banka Banka to Tennant Creek – 102 km

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Day 230

Preparing for a long day, we ate our breakfast under the morning star and were packed by sunrise. We weren’t sure how we would feel so we decided to play it by ear. If we got to Threeways and were exhausted then we would stop at the roadhouse, but if not we would continue the extra 25 km to Tennant Creek so we could restock. The wind continues to blow from the SE and we were wary about what we would be heading into when we began heading east. Nevertheless the wind was in our face all day, but a little aerodynamics and air in the tires goes a long way. Cher’s achilles was beginning to ache and although we were tempted to stop at Threeways, we were more motivated by the prospect of affordable fresh food. It had been a while since our last big town.

We stayed at the Tennant Creek Caravan Park, and went to the Red Rooster to get a “snack.” The young man behind the counter was surprised when two of us ordered the family size fish and chips. We devoured it. It’s best not to grocery shop hungry. We walked to “The Food Barn” and were not disappointed. Their local brand Black & Gold was cheap and delicious. When we left the grocery we each had enough to fill our panniers, if we took out all of camping gear.

That evening Cher wasn’t feeling great from our heavy greasy meal, but I finished it off by eating 3/4 of a cheesecake for dessert. With a big breakfast planned the following day and heaps of calories within easy reach we settled in for a much deserved rest.

Since Australia’s states are so vast we have broken our trips down into water holes, rest areas, caravan parks, roadhouses, towns, and cities. Tennant Creek was a mid-point for us before the crossing a vast ares with very few towns. With big meals and rest days to look forward to, it makes the vastness more manageable and so far we haven’t suffered too much.

May 30th: Renner Spring to Banka Banka – 57.6 km

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Day 229

Breakfast went as planned and we were both well fueled. We started quickly but Cher was still losing steam. There were still plenty of hills and we were pedaling into a headwind. Maybe it was the wind. I resolved to check everything when we got in. I suspected the addition of the ukulele was effecting Cher’s aerodynamics and the last time I checked the tire pressure was a long time ago. We passed more crests, shrubs, and grass, and were able to see as far as the horizon when a gentle rise lifted us over the flat landscape.

For a relatively short day we were both weary when we arrived at Banka Banka. The owners greeted us with 2 bottles of cold water and charged us a discounted rate since we were on “push bikes.” We were shown to a nice grassy spot and told that the water here was the best in the region. Banka Banka does it right. Simple facilities, well maintained, clean and functional. Showers were hot, and we had places to hang our towels and set down our cloths. In the camp kitchen we found burners, a hot water pot and a barbecue. It was an oasis.

Our tent set up we began chatting with our neighbors who immediately offered us tea and biscuits. When we began doing laundry our neighbors also lent us clothes pins so our cloths wouldn’t blow away. Then later when preparing dinner we were given a can of stewed tomatoes. I told them they although we were living out of a tent that we weren’t destitute, feeling a little guilty that maybe some one else would be more deserving of such charity, but she just said, “it’s nothing.” Cher and I are taking note and we both think we have learned a thing or two about hospitality. We can only hope to pass it on when we less mobile.

Caravaners maintain a vast social network covering much of this wild landscape and share a great amount of information about what and who’s ahead. We have heard from several people tells us that there was a “chinaman” coming from the South by the name of Jimmy and that if we saw him to say hello. We have also heard rumors of more “funny bikes with 3 wheels.” This evening Jimmy arrived. He had been working as a meat packer and hadn’t learned much English, but being from Taiwan, he and Cher had lots to discuss.

Taking some time to give the trikes some attention I quickly found the problem, low tire pressure. We have been so consumed with finding water and food that we neglected the most basic precaution. I was inflating Cher’s tires to match her weight giving her slightly less to eliminate some road noise. This proved a to be a mistake because even a small drop in pressure made her trike sluggish. I also moved the Uke, which she had with the broad flat bottom over her shoulder, like an extra head, to the back of my trike where it could lay flat behind me covered by my height. With our tires rock hard at 70 psi, we hoped to make it to Tennant Creek the following day. We have been told that there is a reasonable priced grocery store there. We could use some fresh food and fresh legs and would get some needed rest there.

May 29th: Newcastle Waters to Renner Springs – 113.8 km

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Day 228

Seeing a lake called Lake Woods on the map south of Elliot, we hoped to stay there. But on the way into Elliot, we met a policeman who warned us that it was over 30 km off the main road along a dirt track. We stopped at the local post office / general store in Elliot and bought some desperately needed but outrageously priced food. We paid 10 dollars for a kilo of rolled oats that cost 6.50 in a supermarket. But It was pay or go hungry. Elliot was a sad little town and we decided we would be better off pushing for Renner Springs.

A balanced meal with a good bit of protein really sticks with you. The hospitality of the night before could not have been better timed. Not only did we have a long day but we also had strong headwinds and a series of small hills. The hills by themselves would have been fine but with the headwind we found we had a good amount of work the both the ascent and descent.

I also got my first flat today in over 10,000 miles. A small piece of glass worked its way into my tire and waited there until it wore down enough to push it through the protective layer.

We have been warned that one of the greatest difficulties is the monotony of the landscape, but I have found that either we arrived at the perfect time or I have a great appreciation for grasses, and shrubs. Along the road there are three layers, first a low amber grass, then small bushes with yellow flowers and behind them a variety of eucalyptus trees. Of course this is all bordered by the deep red dirt. I find it quite beautiful. Cher has been pushing hard though and with cramped legs not even I look good to her.

25 km north of Renner Springs, as the sun began to set, we saw 5 cyclists, without panniers and carrying only a small bottle of water each. Where on earth could they be going at this hour? Elliot was at least 90 km away. There’s nothing out there – Cher thought, or there’s nothing out there but yellow-flowered shrubs – I thought. A cyclist stopped to chat and we found that they were following the repeater towers route from Adelaide to Darwin, with a support team carrying their supplies. They were getting in an extra 25 km so they wouldn’t have to do it the next day. A van would pick them up and drive them back to the camp site at Renner Springs.

Cher and I were amazed. What they hell were we doing? Cher suggested that she could be my support team, all I had to do was get her a van. They were doing about 100km per day and they asked us if our average was over that and if our average speed was 28kmph. It’s understandable that our trikes look futuristic, but the engine that powers them is the limiting factor. We are not the fastest vehicles with our shelter, clothes, several days of food and water. On the positive side, we don’t miss a stone nor a bush as we creep past them. Not like those petrol powered vehicles, they must miss all those little stones that we get to see.

Speaking of power we picked up grub for a large breakfast. We find that we are craving heavier food than our normal staples of oatmeal, bread, and pasta. For breakfast we planned on baked beans, fried eggs, and bacon. Maybe Cher will see some flowers tomorrow.

May 28th: Dunmarra to Newcastle Waters – 76.4 km

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Day 227

A day of uneventful riding.

Stopping 25 km north of Elliot, the free rest area Newcastle Waters as promised has water and as a bonus we found heaps of hospitality. When we arrived we met a Polish couple who also cycled through South East Asia, but more extensively than we did. When they arrived in Australia, they decided to get a car, after his wife saw the enormous distances between civilizations.

Cher asks for a car whenever the going gets tough, but she also admitted that she’s glad that we persevered. The distances are daunting. This is more like backwoods backpacking where you have to plan your meals, and most importantly mark water spots on the maps. In between the long stretches of nothing, we stop at water holes. Here we meet all the other animals, either flying freely on their wings or driving in cars and caravans. We are all animals but we can also be hospitable, empathetic animals.

When we arrived the Polish couple immediately offered us coffee and biscuits. Which we happily accepted. We shared our woes and joys of couples cycling and they left for their next destination, but plan on cycling again once they reach New Zealand. We then met Phil and Linda who invited us to join them for dinner, while Phil was trying to help us setting up our little tent.

Before dinner time, We decided to look civilized and wash up using our pump bag as a shower. Our pump bag, which is just a dry bag with a narrow nozzle is used to pump up our air mattress, but doubles as a shower. Cher was reluctant to use it since we had to shower in public. Wearing our running shorts and Cher with her sports bra we washed ourselves while some curious motorists watched.

It was worth it since we spent 3 hours with them and our smell, well at least my smell was repellant. Phil and Linda treated us to mixed drinks called cowboys, with ice cubes! For dinner we had steak, salad, potatoes and salad. The insisted they just had to get rid of the steak. But after overhearing a conversation with their daughter who they are obviously very close with, I would presume that they are the type of people that would have shared even if it wasn’t extra. Phil and Linda both retired recently and this was their first excursion as nomads. Thanks to them, the cynical part of me had to admit that caravans may not be a bad way to travel.

May 27th: Daly Water to Dunmarra – 51 km

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Day 226

Alcohol goes straight to your head when you only have it every once in a while, but we had a short day planned.

Extravagant lunch in the bush

Not much changed over the next 50km and we arrived early at a nice little grassy spot. There we immediately spotted another cyclist. Like the nomads, when you see another cyclist it’s best to stop and trade information and if you’re lucky they came from the direction that you’re going.

Chince, we learned was cycling solo around Australia for about 8 months. We wouldn’t have guessed it if he hadn’t told us that he’s 58 years old. He prefers to sleep in the bush and carries 25 liters of water and a little cooler for fresh fruit and vegetables. Chince is an intense individual and his penetrating stare was a bit intimidating at first. But after we warmed up we found him to be a warm, and exceptionally positive replying to everything I said with “alright big brother,” event though he’s 22 years older.

He warned us about the lack of water ahead, and encouraged us to carry more water than our current 7 liters. We chatted for at least a couple of hours, and although I don’t remember a lot of what we said, he left us upbeat and ready to take on whatever the next long lonely stretches had for us.