After some early interest in the run, it was looking a few months ago that Emma and I were going by ourselves, but another email flushed out Kevin and Stephi Wallace (on the eminently suitable RT), Paul (Hopkins) and Gail on a newly purchased R100GS and newcomers Paul (Glaister) and Jenny on an R1100GS. Emma was on a '94 Dominator recently purchased from Antonio and I was on the Dakar. If taking the Dakar on tar to Uluru is like 'taking a knife to a gunfight' (to borrow a phrase from Woodsie), at least it and the Dommie are steak knives (the latter being far superior to the 'oyster fork' KLR).

Kevin and Stephi left Sydney a few days early to check out Broken Hill in more detail. The rest of us shivered across the mountains to Orange on Thursday night. It wasn't the best way to sell the trip to the group but we warmed up with a few beers in the pubs of Orange. Unfortunately, being the night before Easter, the locals were raucous late into the night so we weren't exactly well rested for the run out to Broken Hill the next day.

In researching the trip there seemed to be so many 'essential' things out in Central Australia that the only way to get to see at least a few of them was to blast out in three days, have four days out there, and return in three. And Emma had a weird desire to actually make it to the destination this time after tangling with a naughty sand dune last August. Thousand k days are bearable if the tiredness doesn't catch up until the next day, but if you try to string two of them together and whack on 750 the next day it can get a bit tough. But the sun was out down the Barrier Highway, we weren't at work and the desert was calling again, so we pulled into the Lakeview Caravan Park at Broken Hill without a hitch. The Wallaces were there to greet us and we all headed down to the jumping pizza café in the centre of town for a feed and some well-deserved beers.

There was some discussion about rising early and not stopping too often and for too long (fortunately no smokers!) in preparation for the next day but the most effective way to get Paul and Gail up was to not tell them about the time zone change so they were up half an hour early with a spring in their step. Our time efficiency efforts were thwarted by the Yunta roadhouse, whose staff were taken unawares by the arrival of eight guests wanting breakfast at the same time.

The road down to Peterborough was straight and fast with only the huge wedge-tail eagles reluctant to relinquish their fresh roadkill creating a need to concentrate. We were making good time across this fairly dry part of SA where you dip for a moment into marginal farming country before heading up from Port Augusta north on the Stuart Highway back into 'you want to grow f….'n what?' country. Horrocks Pass, just before PA offered a set of much needed twisties before the drone of the Stuart. I felt like putting in a call to the Easter group to trade corners for sunshine. 6500ks of nice sweepers over 10 days would have been great.

The low salt bush for the first 200ks gave way to rocky plains somewhere past the Woomera turnoff (for some reason other travellers were interested in the detention centre which is now closed down). We were averaging around 130-140 with Paul's airhead GS taking up fuel camel duties for the Dommie which was doing marvellously well keeping up. Emma is now officially certifiable for making positive comments about the comfort of the seat on her bike when others had decried it as amongst the worst in the world – perhaps it makes sense after the KLR.

We pulled in to crazy Coober Pedy to find the town was having its Opal Festival that night so there was already an air of expectation. We stayed in the Lookout Cave Motel under one of the hills in town. Coober Pedy isn't that old and it is mainly inhabited by people who swore blind that they would only stay for a while until they made their Opal fortune. So it doesn't have any old buildings or really anything that you would call a town centre, just a few shops and a pub and motels and opal shops scattered around. It is very post apocalyptic. We had a Greek meal in a restaurant where we were tricked by the staff sitting at the window tables trying to make the place look busy. And just as we were about to order they all ran outside to see the local fireworks from the festival.

The underground rooms were very still, quiet and warm but it was quite stuffy. The ventilation stacks ran up to the top of the hill but they didn't have enough of them so we were a little disappointed in the experience. Emma and I stayed in the nearby Desert View Motel on the way back down and that was much better for ventilation. The rooms are just cut out of the soft rock with an excavator. There are circular groove marks on the walls and the whole lot is just sealed to stop it dusting.

On the road out north to Alice there are thousands of conical shaped piles of rock and soil waste from Opal mining. The shafts are vertical so they just dump the waste next to each shaft. There are warning signs to not walk backwards in the opal fields, coupled with a.picture of someone falling down a shaft.

The gibber plains started to sprout more grass and scrubby trees as we got closer to the NT border. Then the flies came. A $7 fly net over the head wasn't going to win any fashion awards but it made being outside bearable. My bike decided not to start leaving Kulgera but fortunately we had enough nous and tools to work out fairly quickly that it was a dirty battery contact and we were off again heading for the Uluru sunset.

We made it to the massive Yulara resort (capacity 18,000 and thereby the 4th largest town in NT when full) just in time to grab some beers and head out to the designated Uluru sunset carpark – the start of the sightseeing part of the trip. I expected to be a bit blasé about the big rock but it was completely the opposite. It was simply amazing. The scale is what gets you first, and then it is the magic of the changing colours and finally the close up detail in the sculpture of the rock and small gorges where a grove of trees hang around a tiny waterhole. We were all happy to have made it without real incident and tucked into a few beers while enjoying the sunset.

Given the straight and flat roads, it isn't surprising that the resort 'sees you coming' when the bill arrives. $7.50 beers were a bit hard to take but the food was good local roo, emu, crocodile, barramundi and the usual stuff. Paul and Jenny were staying three nights so they didn't have to race out the next morning to the other side of the rock to the sunrise carpark like the rest of us. Emma and I got pulled over for overtaking a Park Ranger at 20ks above the speed limit on the base road but he turned out to be ok, telling us later of others doing over 150 and a Japanese biker racing off away him only to discover the road was a loop. The sunrise was the same breathtaking sight of changing colours but with the slight difference from the crisp morning air. We rode (slowly) around the base road and checked out the two little gorges where there were some stories of aboriginal dreamtime, which gave it an extra layer of interest. It is easy to imagine how important it was to them - it felt like a big resting creature up close.

The whip was still down so we headed 50ks further out to Kata Tjuta (Olgas – a lot of things have an aboriginal and European name but I am using the aboriginal one because it got there first) with Emma and I doing a part of the Valley of the Winds Walk in the heat and the others heading around the 300ks to Kings Canyon early. We could only think of the trip as a reconnaissance: we need more time! It's all so good. Yeah, speak to the helmet kiddo and get going!

Kings Canyon has a much smaller but equally expensive resort a few ks out from the Canyon itself. Emma was followed by a very bold dingo pup into the grounds – there are signs warning people not to feed them. We did the 3hr rim walk around the top of the Canyon which was another fantastic experience. The cliff walls were sheer in places where the rock had decided to just let go. The canyon floor was covered with palms and gums and the upper narrower section had a series of pools big enough to swim in. KC was less of a mind-bending experience than Uluru but enjoyable for the view and the variety along the rim walk.

The mornings were fairly comfortable to walk so we were finished up by lunchtime to head around to Alice – 480ks. We were used to long distances by now but it was good to have a couple of days of relatively less hectic pace. The town is pretty big and is dramatically placed in a gap between the West and East MacDonnell Ranges. Paul H was spotted by Adam Younie (old Clubman member with an XTZ660 but buying a DR650 for the tighter local tracks) in a bike shop in Alice so we had dinner with him and Trish (DR650) one night in an Indian restaurant/Irish bar. They gave us the low down on the town, some of the stuff they don't tell the tourists and generally seemed to be very happy there (“The longer we stay, the more we love it!”). They are going to do the Great Central Road soon, using Avgas when the unleaded runs out.

Emma and I went out to see some of the gorges of the West MacDonnell Ranges which were up to 80ks west of Alice. The creeks have created dramatic north-south slices through the range. Ellery Creek Big Hole was particularly dramatic with a large swimming hole and small beaches between the cliff faces and is the only permanent water hole. Paul and Gail went out to check out the Desert Park, which is a sort of showcase of local plants and animals.

On Friday we had everyone together again for a 4wd tour to Palm Valley which is 100kms south west of Alice and accessible only via the rocky and sandy Finke Gorge. PV is the last remaining vestige of the rainforest palms that once covered the whole area millions of years ago. The width of the gorge and the drainage through the rock combine to support only a 2km stretch of fairly dense palms, grassy undergrowth and ponds. We were all glad to have someone else drive for a day (especially over the sand) and the lunch was superb. Plus you get all the local stories and history. We stopped at a natural amphitheatre that has natural stone 'faces' around the edge that the aborigines believed were protective ancestors for their meetings in the centre. The last stop was at Hermannsburg where Albert Namatjira was born – they had two of his original watercolours in amongst the historic buildings.

After a night of celebrations in an Alice bar we headed off back down the Stuart Hwy, though Stephi flew home from Alice to get to her sister's birthday party on Saturday night. I could only make it to Coober Pedy after waking up at 4.00am and not being able to get back to sleep, but the rest of the group made it down to the Glendambo Roadhouse. (The only incident was Emma's top box falling off after hitting the 1000th cattle grid at 140, but she has learnt her lesson.) We caught up with them in Mildura the next day after only 1150ks! Mildura isn't such a sleepy town these days and we had a good night in an excellent pizza bar where the beers flowed freely – thanks Kevin!

Only another 1000ks to home! Kevin peeled off in Mildura to head for Melbourne to visit a mate so he escaped another tough day – all relative on an RT. And the rain came down from Yass all the way up the highway. There was one poor bastard at the Yass servo on an XT250 with a flat tyre, no tube, no tools and no idea. We offered tools but we didn't have a tube that fitted. He had NRMA cover on his car so we left him to contemplate an addition to the fold. We made it home around 9.00pm soaking wet but happy.

I don't think any of us would go so far in such a short period of time again but there are no regrets. That part of Australia is a must for all. The other highlight was the group itself. Everyone seemed to get on well, all getting away almost promptly enough for Kevin, all working as a team and not afraid of a beer or two! Thanks guys for making it such a great trip.