Kennedy Range

This entry is part 2 of 17 in the series Adventure Rider Issue #43

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A National Park about 820km from Perth beckoned to Shaun Terblanche.

The first and final days were planned as travel days to get to and from the areas we set out to explore. The plan was to include Kalbarri, Murchison Oasis, Kennedy Range National Park (two nights), Mount Augustus and then head home via Mount Magnet on the final day.

Let’s just say plans are based around expectations, and it was perhaps a little ambitious thinking we’d complete the Kennedy Range loop on fully loaded bikes in a day-and-a-half.

But let’s start at the beginning…

Paddling, lifting, pulling and pushing nine loaded bikes across the river sand.

Manageable

It must have been just after Western Australia’s tight travel restrictions had started to lift I suggested to a mate from Karratha we should plan a trip and meet somewhere in the middle. I spoke to a few other GS riders in Perth who’d been riding with me for a while and things started taking shape. Before we knew it we had nine riders onboard. Considering we didn’t know exactly what to expect and we’d be traveling through some remote areas, the idea was to keep the group relatively small.

Nine riders, two support vehicles and 2500km.

Prep

Early days in the planning process were interesting.

Some riders had never done moto camping, only a handful had motorcycle luggage to carry all their belongings, and riding loaded bikes was generally not something anyone in the group had considered before. A lot of preparation was done, involving visits to Motorrad Garage for luggage systems, Tent World for camping gear, BM Bikes for tyres and last-minute bike upgrades. There were also impromptu shopping trips to get meals, water and fuel containers/bladders, equipment and more.

One of the rules to join the group was to attend one of two overnight camp-preparation rides leading up to the expedition. We had to work out what we needed, what worked and what had to be ditched when it proved to be useless or ineffective.

Our first overnight trip was a 900km loop to Baladjie Rock, east of Perth. It was a pretty easy run but a few people quickly realised they needed to change their setup and buy smaller/lighter equipment. We also worked out the importance of appropriate wet-weather gear when we returned in bucketing rain as a cold front moved across WA, making the last 250km of the ride wet, cold and miserable.

Some lessons were learnt.

A 350km run from Kalbarri had everyone at Murchison Oasis and ready to camp for the night.

Take two

Three weeks later we set off on another overnighter, this time closer to home but more challenging.

We headed to Julimar State Forest northeast of Perth, renowned 4WD country where hills, pea gravel, sand, rocks and more were all on the menu.

Perth and its surrounds are generally flat, and pea gravel covered the tracks south and east, so the rocky hills of Julimar were a great change of scenery.

The weekend proved to be another learning experience for some and revealed some final tweaks required to everyone’s kit.

Extraordinary clifftop views.

End of the road

The time arrived for us to take off on our expedition.

The first day was a bitumen run from Perth to Kalbarri along the coast, with a few stops which included the Port Gregory Convict Hiring Station. The facility allowed local farmers to hire convicts for labouring tasks, but lasted a mere three years or so from 1853 to 1856. The ruins are spread around a main housing facility of about 17m x 9m which was designed to accommodate 80 men (on a double row of hammocks). Some of the other ruins included a blacksmith, hospital, lock up and the captain’s home-stead, but most of these are now only piles of rocks.

The next stop was the pink lake, also at Port Gregory.

It’s normally an amazing sight as sun-light intensifies the pink colour, but unfortunately it was quite overcast when we arrived. We only caught a glimpse of the intense pink here and there when the sun peeked through the clouds and a few rays hit the water.

A final stop before Kalbarri was at Pot Alley, a picturesque ocean gorge along the cliffs overlooking the Indian Ocean.

Kalbarri was our one-and-only night of sleeping in a bed during the trip.

The rest was all camping.

Author Shaun Terblanche.

Blue-sky time

After breakfast in town we headed off to see the new Kalbarri Skywalks over the Murchison River Gorge, about 40km from town.

The breathtaking twin skywalks project 25m and 17m beyond the gorge rim, more than 100m above the Murchison River,and the view from up there was quite spectacular.

Nature’s Window was next, one of WA’s most iconic natural attractions. It’s a rock arch at the top of the cliffs which perfectly frames rugged views of the Murchison River.

The middle of the twin track was either a raised sand mound creating deep ruts either side, or patches of spinifex growing along the middle of the track.

Moving on

With the sightseeing done, and Kalbarri added to our list of destinations for a future dedicated tour, it was time to take off and make our way to Murchison Oasis.

We gave it some thought after the locals told us the tracks we planned on taking were the harder option. We had to allow some time considering it was rated a 4WD track and could throw a few surprises our way.

This was the first time we’d be on the dirt roads since departing Perth, and the initial 60km or so was easy going. Then we progressively saw more sand appear on the track, reminding me a little of riding through Chowilla and Danggali in South Australia. Some deeper patches of sand were responsible for GS-tango action and some of us had good fun weaving across the road. A total of 350km from Kalbarri got us to Murchison Oasis where we camped the night and caught up with a group of sidecar riders who were heading to the Off Centre Rally.

Some deeper patches of sand were responsible for GS-tango action.

Getting serious

Day three started off with an easy 300km run to Gascoyne Junction and a couple of stops to stretch our legs along the way.

Chris led, and as the terrain became more rugged and rocky I felt the excitement and anticipation building. We were nearing the main attraction of the trip, the Kennedy Range. Very few people ever do the western side of The Kennedy, and I hadn’t heard of anyone doing it on bikes.

At Gascoyne Junction we met up with Izak on his DR650, who joined us for the Kennedy Range and Mount Augustus loop. With tanks filled, water and other beverages stocked, and water and fuel bladders topped up, we covered 30km of bitumen to the west, followed by a short, 6.5km run of relatively easy tracks to the Gascoyne River crossing.

Early morning clifftop views in the Kennedy Range.

And that’s where things got interesting.

I was the first to set off, following the tracks created by 4WDs, but my run was interrupted when the loaded bike got the better of me and went down about 100m into the 500m sandy riverbed.

This was the moment the whole group knew we had a challenge on our hands.

The next hour was spent paddling, lifting, pulling and pushing nine loaded bikes across the river sand.

Exhausted, we regrouped on the other side and the next mission was reaching a campground for the night. The sun was fast approaching the horizon and we were about 20km from our intended campsite, but it was never going to happen. As soon as we crossed the river we were presented with a mixture of rocky, hard-packed terrain with sections of deep, twin, red-sand tracks and my worst nightmare was hearing a horn behind me and a scream from a fellow rider.

Was this where we were to spend the night waiting for an evacuation team?

The intriguing rock formations of Honeycomb Gorge.

Reality bites

Luckily it was only a scare. A bike trapping a rider can be quite unnerving, but wearing the right gear gives the rider a fighting chance, even with a 300kg bike pinning them down.

There were quite a number of bike drops as everyone tried to find their mojo riding loaded bikes in deep sand, and the likelihood of reaching camp diminished by the minute. But there was a sigh of relief when we reached Mooka Creek Campground less than 30 minutes before sunset. It wasn’t our intended overnighter, but my parked bike was a welcome sight for everyone. We set up camp, and when Nic from the support vehicle approached us with cold ones from the Engel it was the icing on the cake.

It had been a tough afternoon, and silently each one of us hoped the next day would give us a reprieve from the challenging conditions. We’d only completed 50km of our 285km loop, and I’d expected it to take us no more than two days.

A sunrise campfire.
Mookarite Rock – only found in the Kennedy Range.

Good spot

By now we’d already forgotten which day of the week it was. We didn’t have any mobile reception and appreciated the break from technology and everything that accompanied it.

The fourth day started with working out who else had heard the wild dogs howl in the early morning. It turned out it was only Chris and I. Everyone else was fast asleep getting much-needed rest after the previous day’s demanding efforts.

The second challenge of the morning was to find the track.

A rocky climb straight from camp was hidden in plain sight, and after a walk up the hill we found the tracks heading further north. I suggested Gary take the lead for the day while I rode sweep, helping out with lifting bikes and any other issues.

Kalbarri Skywalk Views over the Murchison River.

The tracks started off better. Hard-packed rocky sections were easier to deal with than continuous red-sand twin tracks. Some sandy creek crossings and the odd sand patch kept us on our toes, but we made some good progress. The landscape was rugged and rocky, and spinifex seemed to be about the only thing that survived out there, with the exception of beautiful, lush, green creeks where it hadn’t dried up yet.

The further north we traveled the more rocky and technical it became.

Stony hills and deep-water ruts across the road meant we all had to focus and continually scan the tracks. The key was to keep a steady pace, maintain momentum and make good progress, but do so in a controlled manner without damaging the bikes.

The lunch stop came abruptly. Gary turned a left corner in a creek bed to be faced with deep sand and large slabs of rock with not much room for error.

That was where his bike decided it was a good rest spot for lunch.

GS camping.

Day’s end

After lunch we were presented with a hill climb to get to the top of the escarpment.

The terrain on the escarpment could’ve been referred to as red dunes with spikey spinifex shrubs growing as far as the eye could see.

The red sand was relentless. The middle of the twin track was either a raised sand mound creating deep ruts either side, or patches of spinifex growing along the middle of the track. Along the sides of the tracks were bushes growing high and big enough to bash the handlebars of any-one riding in a wheel track no wider than the pages of this magazine. Along a few sections the sand had compacted and created a hard edge ranging from about 50mm to 150mm right along the wheel track. It seemed endless and was tough going on the big bikes.

By about 3:30pm we knew our plan to be on the eastern side of The Kennedy was long gone, and we still had another 20km of crazy sand before we would reach an area we could call a camp spot.

‘Tired’ was quite an understatement by that stage, and Nic, one of our two support-vehicle occupants, had been running up and down helping with fallen bikes, as had Izak and I. But the group’s resilience was quite impressive. Everyone pushed through to end the day at a most spectacular clifftop campsite, with the most amazing views, right on sunset.

By now we were already a full day behind schedule.

The plan had been to be back in Gascoyne Junction by the end of the fourth day, but we’d only completed 110km of our 285km loop.

Rock show

The next morning we were spoilt with an extraordinary sunrise over the rugged landscape, and a dehydrated breakfast got us going before we headed off for some more sandy twin tracks. It seemed like we would never see the end of the sand.

We wound our way along the edge of the escarpment, enjoying astonishing views, until a winding downhill sandy track led us into the valley below.

We had made it around the northern-most part of The Kennedy!

We now had to make our way to a large, dirt, main road heading to Gascoyne Junction, but that wasn’t without some additional challenges.Two long stretches of fast-paced sand were the final hurdle, and we all had a feeling of relief and accomplishment after completing some of the most grueling riding any of us could imagine.

It was after midday when we headed down to have a look at Temple and Honeycomb Gorges, the most intriguing rock formations, and areas where the cliffs had broken away leaving perfectly smooth vertical rock walls. Photos do not do these places any justice.

Job well done

We finally completed our Kennedy Range loop and arrived back in Gascoyne Junction at around 3.00pm on Friday where showers and a pub dinner were much appreciated by everyone.

The original plan wasn’t feasible anymore and we’d received news a major cold front and storm was approaching Western Australia, due to hit on Sunday, scheduled to be our final day of the trip. Some options for the return leg were considered and after throwing a few ideas around all agreed the best plan would be to make the 1100km journey home on Saturday. Most of the riders in the group had never done more than about 500km-600km in a single day, so the push home was yet another challenge. Long-distance master, Nev, briefed us on how to make it happen efficiently.

We got up at 5:00am, packed up our tents and set off at 6:30am, just as day-light started breaking through the clouds, and dodged a few kangaroos and some cattle between Gascoyne Junction and Carnarvon. Eleven hours later we pulled in at the final meeting spot to have a coffee and go our separate ways home, having all completed our 1000km challenge for the day.

Sunset at Mooka Creek.

We concluded the trip after six days, 2500km, extremely tough conditions and had no major damage to the bikes – not even a puncture – and no major injuries. Mount Augustus, which we missed out on, will now be part of a Karijini trip in the next year or two.

Would I do the Kennedy Range loop again?

It’s unlikely. But if I did, it would most definitely not be on a loaded bike.

Hats off to the crew who made this happen. The west side of the Kennedy Range is a special place. It’s easy going in a 4WD, but not so much on a bike, and each challenge was well rewarded with stunning views.

On to the next one we go.

Tracks hidden in plain sight.