boot came off for the first time , two weeks later in Townsville ( Queensland ). A tale better left there .
The ride tested me to any normal person ’ s limits , but somehow I did not feel normal ; there always seemed to be a greater presence which totally consumed the bubble in which I was living life .
There were times when riding through the remote and baron outback of the Savannah Way and the Pilbara ( northern Western Australia ) where I felt totally insignificant ; extremely vulnerable to the whims of Mother Nature . Strangely I never felt in harm ’ s way .
Stupid or bloody mindedness ? I knew I could take on almost anything with success , such was my determination and focus to achieve for my two ladies .
I spent many nights camped out in the scrub , always a few kilometres away from the remote roads . I don ’ t know why I went so far from the road , no-one was going to come across me out here . I would light a small fire before it got dark , set up the gas cooker and pour a can of stew into the pan .
Half-baked in the hot , relentless outback sun , the food didn ’ t take long to cook . Afterwards I would go straight to my tent and lay on the blow-up mattress and contemplate why I was putting myself through this .
I ’ d often hear the howling of wild dogs and the thudding of a nearby ' roo . These sounds always gave me the answer ... I needed a life changing event , one which would delineate the past from the present . This was certainly it !
The 6 hour days of constant 6 inch deep corrugations began to take a toll on my body , especially my left ankle . The heat and total isolation of the solo ride , so far from my normal existence began playing with my thoughts , selfdoubt began to occupy my mind . Should I take a safer and more inhabited route , who would know ?
I managed to stay true to my original challenge . I knew I ’ d regret it when I got home if I did not do what I set out to achieve .
I remember setting up the tent somewhere near Kununurra . I had just driven the last peg in the ground when I felt a pair of eyes on me .
Yes ! A 3 metre crocodile had decided to take up co-residency with me for the night . I was not shifting , I was too buggered and wanted to do nothing else but sleep . He was as determined as I was not to move , even after throwing several stones in his direction .
Reaching a stalemate , I decided that security was needed . That night I zipped up my tent flap .
Travelling from Pardoo to Port Hedland I experienced a huge explosion towards the rear of my motorcycle . I began to lose my steering . Bringing the tank slapping moment under control , I jumped off my bike to find that my newly purchased heavy duty canvass barrel bag had been blown apart and my trusty 10 year old tent was incinerated along with some jocks , socks and my best speaking outfit .
The culprit was my portable gas
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