I’d laughed nervously. For days
Ian had been thinking of excuses to
not do the ride, worried by the threat
of rain. I’d laughed again, the threat
was now very real. Oh adventure!
Progress came easy, road condi-
tions ideal. I’d refused to slip into
complacent comfort and slowed the
pace. For some, this wasn’t ideal, for
me it was. The scenery in this part of
the world was spectacular and need-
ed a more relaxed approach. How
else could it be appreciated? Every-
thing felt right; bike, land and rider
all at one.
Wide open expanses of red earthed
track occasionally gave way to lime-
stone topped road. Both packed
hard by recent rain, dust was at a
minimum. The occasional mudhole
provided little challenge, we’d been
able to ride on the drying edges. The
life providing rain had greened what
would normally be dry, parched land.
The blooms of wildflowers providing
a surreal backdrop to the already
stunning beauty.
Tjukayirla Roadhouse became our
first nights stop. Since planning the
ride almost two years earlier, I’d be-
come almost obsessed by this area
and now we’d bypassed the aborigi-
nal community Cosmo Newberry. I
looked on at the hand painted sign
with a heavy heart. One day I’ll be
back. Heavy black clouds had been
following us since late-morning, rain
wasn’t far behind. The roadhouse
run by the Blackstone Aboriginal
Community seemed a much wis-
er choice for the first night’s camp,
TRAVERSE
21
there had been a chance we would
find ourselves delayed for a few days.
We made camp and settled in as light-
ning illuminated the distant horizon.
Machine gun fire! Startled awake!
I’d failed to comprehend the noise.
Rain! Heavy rain falling in the dark,
amplified by the small tent. I’d tried
to doze, yet sleep came uneasy. Day
break brought clarity, the rain had
been heavy during the night, yet now
there was none and the ground gave