Arkaroola and Urandangi Run

Emma and I started off a few days after Greg, the Clubman Tourer formally known as Spitzy, Gilles, Ali, and John Miller from the V-twinners club. Norm started with us but was travelling a bit too fast for our caravan of courage. Liz and Mike had left a few days previously to tour the National Parks of western NSW. We were late to meet Norm at Eastern Creek Caltex and were travelling too slow during the day to make it to Hillston so we stopped in Condobolin instead - Norm had gone on to Lake Cargelligo as he was making better time. The predictions of rain for the following morning were a little worrying given you can hardly stand up in the resulting mud let alone ride. So we headed off to Nymagee (another outback town Captain Chaos must return to incognito) and just made it to the tar before the rain hit. Then it was the boring Barrier Hwy from Cobar to Broken Hill which was taken at a mind-numbing 80-90 to save the knobby tyres - getting 27km/L was no consolation.

Mac from Brisbane on a Varadero joined the group in Broken Hill and was planning with Greg's group to only go to Yunta the next day, however Mike, Liz, Em and I all wanted to get into the southern Flinders to camp that night. We camped in Wilkawillina Gorge in the eastern side of the Flinders. Beautiful campsite, typical Flinders scene, red wine, campfire, but that night it bucketed down and the wind howled and kept stoking flames out of the embers. The road into Blinman was a bit interesting with the mud patches - one claiming Mike when he ignored the perfectly good side track around the outside of the gloop. On the way to Arkaroola, we took the side route to Chambers Gorge - a winding track down through high gorge walls to aboriginal rock carvings with lots of emus on the way.

In Arkaroola, Greg had organised for the Honda V-twinners to meet for a few days. A selection of Africa Twins, XLV750s, Canyoneros, Transalps and a hotted desert racing outfit with a Transalp engine were gathered. Those of us on non-Honda singles were permitted to pay the appropriate respects and sit quietly in the background thinking of the mistakes we had made. The ex-sheep station, now wildlife sanctuary is situated in the Gammon Ranges to the north of the Flinders Ranges - the site sits amongst what the guides describe as 'a riot of mountains'.

Arkaroola is day ride/walk/sit/drink heaven, with a hundred different things to do. Not big mountains but there are a lot of them. Some did the mandatory Ridge Top Tour and a plane was chartered for a lunch trip to Wilpena Pound - if you needed any proof that the profile of motorcyclists is changing here it is! On one morning most of us gathered to attempt the Echo Camp back track, which is a self guided 4wd tour which starts out in a dry creek bed and soon heads up the steepest hill in the vicinity. And then down again of course. This first hill took a few casualties and caused a few retirements. It wasn't exactly motocross but let's just say it wasn't on Honda's test circuit for the 'Dero. The track went up and over a number of these lovelies - sand holes half way up just where you needed some drive, through gullies and past the end of roo filled gorges. The views out over the ranges and Lake Frome to the east were magnificent. And it was all very easy on Emma's KLR - Rob having turned back to have a good fang on other roads on the Dakar. Even Paul Dandy going past two-up on a Transalp along a fairly twisty track couldn't upset me - much. There was a bit of shuffling and assisting over tricky bits but all made it through with only a few scrapes.

Some went home from there while Greg, Mac and John Miller headed up the Birdsville Track. Em and I wanted to get to Birdsville via Innamincka as we hadn't been there before. So we headed off by ourselves up the road to the Strezlecki Track - Blue had joined us in Ark the day previously and was planning to come up the next day.

About 100ks up the road we started to go over some low dunes running perpendicular to the track. It was on one of these that Emma's trip came to an abrupt end. I'll let her take up the story:

'It was a beautiful day and the road, which would meet with the Strezlecki, though not as good as the Arkaroola roads, was good in that the various surfaces one encountered were supported by a solid base. And then I came over a rise and came across a patch of sand that was deeper than the others. The bike fishtailed in huge sweeps and just as I thought "I'm bloody well in doubt, so I'll power out" I was sliding along the sand. I knew immediately that my shoulder was sore but that I was otherwise OK. Jas came over and helped me crawl off the road where I lay in the sun and pondered how quickly great plans can come unstuck. I tried sitting up but my shoulder just wouldn't take it so I just lay there. Finally, Jas went back 15 kms to a station we had passed to see if anyone was there. In the meantime, Norma and Bill, my guardian angels arrived. Bill is an ex-ambo driver and after a few pertinent questions and a bit of a feel of my arm constructed a rudimentary brace across my back and arm, piled me into the Jackaroo, stuck the KLR on the fire wood rack (!) with the help of Glen and Gai, and set off for Leigh Creek hospital. It was a long trip (I stacked at about 10am and got to Leigh Creek about 5:30pm) prolonged by a flat tyre, but I don't know that there were alternatives. After a couple of doses of morphine (oh yeah), they stuck me in front of the x-ray machine, which revealed a dislocated shoulder. Some more drugs and some manipulation and my shoulder looked as it should (the x-ray nurse told me I looked a bit deformed). The KLR got a bit mangled - the head light and the instrument panel was totally smashed and the ignition key looks like a piece of spaghetti but everything else seems OK.'

It took half a day the next morning to organise a plan to get Emma back home via the milkman (free), a bus from Port Augusta ($40) and a plane from Adelaide ($130). The KLR went to Adelaide with the supermarket supplier ($80) and then a haulage company ($160). The bike is going to cost around $400 to fix. So not as bad as it could have been. Given that I would have had to ride home by myself, we (yes people, I had bipartisan agreement) decided that I should continue with a modified plan.

So I did. It wasn't the same without Em but I would have been very disappointed for it to finish there. I headed up the Birdsville Track about 50kms before camping at Clayton Wetlands - Innamincka was ditched due to losing a day. Most of that area is above the Great Artesian Basin so there was a cut down plastic tank and outlet forming a lovely outdoor hot spa in which I sat reading AMCN with a miners headlamp under the stars. I had spoken to Mac at Birdsville during the day and he said to take the inside track which you had to have directions to follow - the tourists are directed up the rocky outside track. The inside track was much softer and had some interesting dune crossings at the north end, but the Dakar handled it beautifully.

Mal, Wayne, Mark Ewdale from Kempsey and Bruce, Les and Ron from northern NSW were there at Birdsville. We had the obligatory beers at the pub but went in search of the hippie-run curry house in the back streets. Sure, the curries are shipped up from Adelaide but that just means the ingredients are good quality. It was fun to sit out the back with the psychedelic light show and crazy dogs watch the Royal Flying Doctor Service (RFDS) fly yet another Off Centre casualty out to a larger town. There is a lot to do in and around Birdsville but we only had time for the Working Museum - the museum is actually as much the eccentric guy who runs the tours as the displays of machinery, old manufacturing memorabilia and, well just stuff. Well worth it but it won't mean anything without the tour, which is twice daily, I think.

From there it was up to Boulia where we were joined by Captain Kaos (Jim) on his trick Husky (mucho $ but well sorted for it) and Michael from Port Macquarie on his almost as trick AT - I challenge anyone to out-trick Kaos. We had a fun night at the pub at Boulia watching Jim stir the locals on that fine line only he can see. The grass was slowly clawing back lost ground from the gibber pebbles by this stage with the odd Brahman cow ambling around.

The next day we headed to the Off Centre Rally at Urandangi - 150kms south west of Mt Isa on the Plenty highway which goes to Alice Springs. Bikes were coming in from all directions. Trish and Adam (Clubman Tourers, Alice Springs chapter) had come up the Plenty over hundreds of ks of sand and rocks. Trish had binned it about 10ks out of town and was in the process of recovering. Tales were told of other crashes - the sand, bulldust and wildlife had claimed around a dozen, so there would have been even more than the 80 odd who turned up to camp next to the pub. Of course most of the bikes were BMs given their general superiority as outback motorcycles - hey, the Honda V-Twinners was last weekend. Many old airhead GS, a few oilhead GS and about half a dozen F650 Dakars (I think all had done a radiator in their short lives with one current leaking) one with Touratech 39L tanks from which you can travel more than 900ks if you have the butt for it, Africa Twins, Transalps, single cylinder Japanese dirt bikes, a Blackbird, a modified SV650 with longer travel suspension and a SRV250 cafe racer from across the Plenty - and she said it wasn't a big deal!

There isn't a lot at Urandangi apart from the pub, a few houses and the Drunk Tank which is a small concrete cylinder into which they will stick you if you tie it on a little too tight. But the pub was the venue of choice and the publican made it pretty easy by restricting beer choice to yellow or green. More turned up during the day from all over the country, and around the world for at least four that I know of. A lot of these guys only see each other at big event rallies and some only at this rally so a lot of catching up was done - the technical term is chinwagging. The most memorable entry was from Blue who made it all the way from Innamincka (1100kms - 850 dirt) in one day across rocks, sand and bulldust- the latter two claiming him once each on the way. A mammoth effort which earned him free drinks for the rest of the night.

Given the Urandangi tourism board had pissed off to the Whitsundays leaving sweet FA to do in town, most headed off the next day to create more carnage on the way out - a German tourist broke his collarbone. The RFDS are planning road blocks at the end of the tar next time so non-bikers have a shot at getting rescued over the weekend.

Blue, Mal, Norm and I headed off directly north to Lawn Hill NP via Camooweal. We knew we were in the Gulf when we got to the Gregory River with the lush vegetation along the edge and debris from the wet 6m up a tree. The two concrete crossings were incredibly slippery and we decided to push the bikes over the second as the water was moving fast - later we saw a photo of a 4wd in the large hole in the river next to the crossing. The best place to camp at Lawn Hill is actually at Adels Grove about 10ks out of the NP down Lawn Hill Creek. We camped by the wide, deep creek with beautiful green water under a canopy of trees - much better than the dry and poorly shaded Parks campsite at the Gorge. AG has a shop with basic supplies - but no grog.

We spend a couple of days walking on the tracks along the cliff edges of the gorge, paddling canoes along the creek and swimming in the creek (really a river - 30m across) under waterfalls. Norm gave the retired ladies a bit of a treat/scare by stripping off (peak tourists season so there were a few people about) and splashing about under the falls. I can't bring myself to describe the scene fully. I stayed another morning to do some more walks, with Blue heading off up the Gulf to eventually meet Jenny in Townsville and Mal and Norm heading home.

The Dakar was pointed south west for the 2700ks home in five days. I had been getting around 400-430 to a tank so far on the dirt but once I hit the tar and opened it up into a headwind I had a surprise when I ran out 5ks before Winton after 370ks in central Qld. But being in a club has its advantages as I only had to push the bike for 2ks before Greg comes up behind me on his way from Mt Isa. So he took my empty fuel container and brought back some fuel to get me in to town. We had a look around the Stockman's Hall of Fame and the Qantas Founders Museum in Longreach - both worth a look but a whole load of nothing to get there from any direction.

Greg headed off to Barcaldine to check out some other sights and generally take a more leisurely route home. I was keen to get home to Em so put in a couple of big days through Augathella and St George before staying the last night away at Coonabarabran. I had one altercation with an emu where it was happily grazing by the side of the road and decided to head straight for me as I went past - it put out the wings and skidded to a stop just behind me as I accelerated past.

Emma's crash did put a big dampener on the trip but I was glad I continued after getting her on her way home. The roads were rougher than I had expected but the desert and Gulf landscapes were amazing we I had a chance to take my eyes off the track in front of me. You do need to prepare a bit and a trial run to test bikes and luggage is recommended. But at 4k for a reliable 650 single plus luggage and extras it isn't ridiculously expensive either. The photos here don't really do it justice, you need to get out there, turn off the engine and walk away from the bike to know what it was like for those fortunate enough to go on this trip. A cracker!

Wildlife The predictions of a lot of wildlife feeding near roads were correct, and how! During the trip I saw Emus, Roos, goats, eagles, sheep, cats, dingoes, and cattle. There were a lot of emus and roos – which contributed to the crash toll. I had a near miss with an emu, which definitely ran straight towards me. In packs they behave like suicidal Velociraptors with stupidity as their weapon – several distract you while another hits you from the other direction. I did actually collect a small bird on the way home, which hit my helmet with a splosh/pop sound and left a splatter of blood over the helmet and visor. I got a few funny looks in the next town before I washed it off.

F650Dakar and Luggage I thought some might be interested in how the bike and the luggage performed during the trip. I only had the bike for a month or so before I left and had only done one short trip outside Sydney so I really didn't know what to expect. Even before I left, the custom luggage rack started to fall apart – not fully welded unfortunately. It was held together with an increasing number of hose clamps as the trip continued but that worked well. The soft Gearsack panniers were too big for the Dakar and I forgot I wasn't on the 1100GS any more and took way too much stuff. Towards the end the straps fell apart and I had to use rope and then straps to hold them down. The BMW Dakar tank bag has elasticised hooks and zips down under the seat. The bottom didn't move but the top section sat permanently off to the left a few inches. It could do with a couple of side straps to hold the top in a better position. The bike was a blast in the sand, very stable even at low speeds and I never had a 'moment' – sure I wasn't exactly where I wanted to be all the time, but I was very impressed. I hadn't opened it up really until I was on the tar on the way home and I had been worried about the vibration at around 5000rpm (115) which I thought would just get worse up the rev range. But on the tar I realised this was just a small spot and the vibrations lessened above 5 so sitting on 130 was a breeze, it will get to 170 without a problem. Sure it takes a bit longer than a twin to get there but it will sit on 130-140 all day without doing the sort of long-term engine damage that will probably occur on other big singles. The fuel economy was excellent – ranging from 27k/L at 90 on the tar to save the knobbies to 21k/L at 130 into a head wind. All up I was happy with the switch to the lighter bike given my desire to have more dirty fun, but I do miss the GS coming out of a corner on the tar. Oh, and the radiator started leaking the week before I left. A replacement was found in Melbourne but that exploded when it was pressure tested before going into the bike, so another one made it in the day before I left – and that one seems fine. Apparently it is a common thing – most of the Dakars at the Off Centre had blown them, my BMW mechanic has replaced 4. Everything else made it over the fairly rough roads without a problem – the sand chewed my chain and sprockets but you have to expect that.

Wreckage I haven't been to an Off Centre Rally before so I don't know if the bike/rider wreckage this year was unusually high, every person we met there or along the way had a story of carnage. Apart from Em's shoulder and ribs and bent KLR and the other crashes mentioned, I heard of: Mal White grinding the switch gear down on the 100GS after flipping it completely over trying to overtake a road train in the dirt (no comment), a sidecar hitting an emu near Innamincka, a WA rider doing a shoulder in a sand hole north of Birdsville, Rob (responsible for the Tyres for Bikes stickers all over the outback) cart-wheeling his Super Tenere with a TRX engine in a table drain, Barry from Newcastle ending up in the same bed in Broken Hill 8 months later (emu, ankle, wrist) after hitting a sandy rut near Hungerford, countless people with varying degrees of injury just out of Urandangi, a 250 road bike on the Plenty to Alice using a stick as a replacement clip on handlebar, and Greg sticking a knife in his wrist, cutting a vein in the process, at Mt Isa trying to cut a cable tie on the AT. Amazingly, Kaos who normally provides entertainment in this area had no spills – you hang on just that bit tighter if spend 20k on a dirt bike. So if you come next time make sure you have NRMA Plus, good ambulance cover and for god's sake give the RFDS a donation whenever you can.