ing gear and into shorts fast enough.
A hot punishing hike and we reach
“the signpost” out on a rocky crag
that marks “The Tip” of Australia, it
all seems more than worthwhile. Af-
ter photos at the edge of the Arafura
and Coral Seas, the water looks real-
ly inviting for a swim with the tur-
tles, however with the many other
sea creatures, which unfortunately
TRAVERSE
48
includes sharks and large saltwater
crocs, we opt out. The surprise spray
of champagne will cool you down.
From the Cape we continue through
the network of dirt roads and 4WD
trails, pausing briefly at the tropical
Somerset Beach to watch some bloke
with an impressive mullet (that’s hair-
style, not fish – Ed) doing donuts on a
kid’s trike. After Somerset, our ride
takes us down a series of beaches, for
some of the riders it is their first-time
riding on a beach, meaning wheelie
practise and donuts aplenty as well
as filling in anyone who tipped over.
By lunchtime we are back at camp for
sausage sandwiches, a cold beer and
an impressive sightseeing helicopter
flight, to view “The Tip” from the air.
Our first day’s riding ends with an
irresistible swim off the Seisia jetty
with the local kids, a feed of lamb
chops and a few cold beers is magi-
cally back dropped with a stunning
display of the sun setting over the wa-
ter.
The sound of galloping hooves
wakes the camp at 4am as one of
the brumbies (wild horse) thun-
ders through the campsite, scaring
the crap out of everyone who had
plucked up the courage to sleep out-
side. Three hours later and we’re
awake again, this time to the sound
of bacon sizzling over the campfire.
There’s no rush as Roy tells us that,
“it’s a holiday not a race”. We enjoy a
hearty breakfast and hop on the Su-
zuki’s around 9:30am.
Our little convoy winds through
the township of Bamaga and we visit
a couple of World War II plane crash
sites: a Beaufort bomber destroyed
on the ground by a Japanese bombing
raid, and a Douglass DC3, which ran
out of fuel 3km short of the runway.
We ride out of the trees along a
short trail and spend the next hour
choking on patches of bull dust. This
stuff is superfine chalk-like grit that is
as slippery as mud and it can be up
to a meter deep, it hangs in the air
like a cloud. The guide briefing be-