Nullarbor , and just our luck we had happened upon the track while it was still sodden .
Mud . Tracks full of water where the road dipped , a rarity as the Nullarbor is as flat as a shitcarters hat . So flat that the curvature of the earth is clearly visible . Nothing to see but a low scrub and the occasional hungry dingo wandering about looking for food .
The big puddles created by the twin tracks were to be tackled in one of two ways ; you could avoid them by riding over the bank and into the scrub , or the other way , feet up , full throttle and plough through . I chose to err on the conservative , most times , and head into the scrub , but I soon got sick of that and decided to have a go at the other method , charging through .
A puddle , a big one , more like a small billabong . Going round would have meant a long detour . Going through was risky . I went through , full throttle , feet up , fourth gear . The front wheel ploughed into the bank , the handlebars wrenched from my hands and the bike stopped its forward progress and began a skyward trajectory . I parted company spectacularly , landing heavily on my left shoulder with my head against the only rock on the Nullarbor Plain .
Staggering to my feet , in shock , I felt a burning pang within my left shoulder and chest .
A bike following me stopped . He ’ d enjoyed the spectacle then helped me get my bike back together , as various parts and attachments had become detached and were spread over the country . The speedo was broken , frozen at sixty seven kilometres per hour , the speed I was doing when I went over the handlebars , and miraculously the bike started with little effort , disappointingly as I would have much rather sat out the rest of the afternoon in someone ’ s ute . It wasn ’ t far to the Nullarbor Roadhouse , and stories like mine abounded , with one victim heading to a remote nursing station and another abandoning the ride altogether . I got a bag of ice , some pain killers , and a motel room , and surveyed the damage . My chest was black from my shoulder to mid section . I gulped down a handful of painkillers and lay on the bed with the ice bag on my chest , my shoulder throbbing . I wondered if I could go on , if my ride , which I had prepared for so meticulously , was over prematurely . I was halfway between Perth and Melbourne , halfway between my destination and home . The pain was excruciating . I cried a little , actually , a lot . Pain , disappointment , frustration . Slowly the pain subsided , and I met up with the others at the bar and asked about the road ahead .
“ The hard part ’ s done ” lied the
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