“We’ll be heading back on the
Oodnadatta and Birdsville Tracks,”
Clay went on. “We need to do this
out of safety, for you guys and for the
riders. Are you ok with that?”
I felt for Clay, I could clearly see
that this decision was affecting him, it
was the right decision that he and his
team had made. The riders couldn't
continue with the long distance,
in these conditions, often riding at
night. Someone could be seriously
hurt or killed. It was the right de-
cision. And besides we were now
heading to one of my favourite parts
of the Australian desert.
We moved on towards the west as
the riders were told of the decision,
some would be disappointed, some
would be angry, hopefully all would
understand … they could all still say
they had crossed the Simpson Desert
and many could say that they had
done two ‘iconic’ tracks for the first
time.
Sitting in the Transcontinental with
a cold beer in my hand, laughing at
Willy’s hardships and his remarkable
life it dawned on me what the point
of the Frontline Safari was. Crossing
the Simpson, one of the harshest
environments on Earth, was second-
ary … the Frontline Safari was more
about the participants, the bonds, the
stories, the experience … the mate-
ship.
It became evident quite early, in
a ride such as the Frontline Safari,
everyone is an equal and everyone is
a superior … we’re all one while we
all learn from each other.
In the following three days we
heard stories of challenges, of hard-
ships, military conflicts in far off
lands, of pain and even death, yet one
thing always came to the forefront;
be there for each other and never
leave a mate behind. There were
laughs, there were even perhaps a
few tears, yet everyone was talking
and isn’t that where it first starts?
Where healing starts? Something
that Soldier On promotes and that’s
TRAVERSE 27