most 100 metres.
Together we freed the bike and I
rode to the other side amongst many
cheers and well wishes. It felt good.
My partner had made his way back
to his bike and rode across. By now
the crowd had gone, looking back we
laughed at what was essentially an
easy crossing … then we looked at the
bikes.
My rear tyre was flat, a quick check
of the pressure revealed that it held
absolutely no air. Bugger!
We were only a dozen kilometres
from Home Valley Station, so headed
there after pumping the punctured
tyre to a level that was rideable. It was
an excuse to stay, an excuse to stay
two nights. Our reasoning; have a few
beers that night, relax and refresh and
repair the tyre in the morning when
the day was still cool. Seemed perfect.
The repair was easy, the Mitas E07
rear tyre easy to break the bead and
TRAVERSE 51
replace the offending tube. The job
was completed within 30 minutes and
drew a bit of a crowd. It was here we
heard some startling news.
A fellow traveller from Darwin
asked if we had crossed the Pentecost.
To the affirmative we replied.
“Oh, so you saw the crocs?”, he
asked.
“Nah,” Leigh brushed him off.
“There’s no crocs in there, it’s just a
ploy to keep the tourists happy.”