Our unique Outback Ride Experience

This entry is part 9 of 17 in the series Adventure Rider Issue #43

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Izak Bakker, Mark Goddard and few mates decided to give Big Red a go.

The 10 riders – one heading in from the UK and the rest split between Queensland, NSW, and Victoria – and one support vehicle would converge on Bourke as the official starting point.

The plan was hatched over dinner at the Old Fire Station Bistro And Grill in Mansfield during the 2018 BMW Safari in Victoria.

After many late nights checking out everything on Google, reading heaps of ride reports and coming up with excuses to be glued to the computer, the route was decided. The 10 riders – one heading in from the UK and the rest split between Queensland, NSW, and Victoria – and one support vehicle would converge on Bourke as the official starting point. Bikes were dominated by the big Beemers, but the go-to DR was covered by both a 400 and a 650. A lone XT660R represented Yamaha and held up the badge well.

The route from Bourke took in Louth, Wanaaring, Tibooburra, Cameron Corner, Lyndhurst, Marree, the Birdsville Track to Mungerannie and then Birdsville. After a single day in Birdsville to ride the infamous dune, Big Red, the plan was to head home via Innamincka, Thargomindah, Hungerford, and back to Bourke.

Over 6000km of predominately red sand there was many a butt-squeezing moment as the change from ‘soft as’ to bone-jarring corrugations occurred instantly. The more senior member of the crew was heard to offer the wise advice: “Get up, get back, get on the throttle, give the pony its head and hope for the best.”It became my mantra and was some of the best advice ever for riding in the sand.

There was many a butt-squeezing moment over 6000km of predominately red sand as the change from ‘soft as’ to bone-jarring corrugations occurred instantly.

Back up

Some long and challenging sections, including the Strzelecki Track, greeted us and our fast-wearing tyres with rocks, rocks and more rocks. The Englishman, who was reliving his ride from 30 years ago on his trusty XT250, was constantly pulling the DRZ apart in the hope it would somehow morph into the 1200GS he had sitting in his garage in the UK.

He was spotted on the side of the road tinkering with the suspension before eventually riding into Lyndhurst flat on the tank as the freezing southerly head-wind sucked the drive out of everything, including the riders’ motivation.

This was when good planning and the support vehicle carrying heaps of fuel kicked in. There was no fuel in Lyndhurst.

A stick up

So far it probably sounds like every other rider’s Birdsville trip, but three calls to the RFDS and the most amazing 18 hours parked up at the Mungerannie pub made this ride stand apart.

The docs in the sky were first called about 40kms out of Cameron Corner.

One of the Beemers was seen heading at speed into a big corner with bulldust as deep as the bike. The outcome wasn’t good, and the sad rider (who will remain unnamed) did the journey over the ’bars and ended up with a fractured collarbone and, even worse, a smashed ego. The support vehicle and driver came in handy again with the very sad GS being trailered off to Cameron Corner. The hospitality of the staff at the hotel was outstanding.

They organised the airstrip, fed us and kept us well lubricated – that last assisted in raising funds for the RFDS by testing our skills at throwing money to the ceiling and making it stick, Cameron Corner style.

It’s important to make sure of a basic first-aid knoweldge and kit, or better still, ride with a doctor and a nurse.
The RFDS picked up a rider at 11:15pm from Cameron Corner.

And again

The second call to the RFDS was after spending the night in Marree and meeting a couple of the local girls.

They recommended we head to Mungerannie and say hello to Phil Gregurke, the publican and only resident of the establishment, who does every-thing from selling tyres to making a bloody good coffee.

Phil was pretty happy to see us as we were the first to get there after the 2019 floods. He loaded up the DVD with clips of riders’ attempts at conquering Big Red then poured the beers.

With beds organised, the barbeque fired up for lunch and self-catering packs provided, everyone was happy. As he was on his lonesome with no staff, Phil did it all. He aimed to do everything possible to make our stay memorable, and he certainly achieved that.

Phil’s hospitality extended to allowing us to use his workshop to repair the subframe of the Yammie. The rider reckoned the problem must’ve been the rocks on the Strzelecki Track (he was sure it was nothing to do with the weight being too far back). The only condition for use of the full workshop was, “Help yourself to anything, but don’t expect me to help.”

Perfect. The Englishman and The Nurse set about emergency XTZ surgery.

Ready for Big Red.
Bikes were dominated by big Beemers but included a couple of Suzukis and a lone XT660R.

Serious

The rest of the crew got in early, fueled up and nabbed the best rooms away from the generator, known snorers and any possible debriefing/party room. Publican Phil continued to be a congenial host and was handing out beers and stories when a sickening thud was heard. The crew turned around to see the hotelier face-down on the concrete. A bend in a post indicated it had come in contact with the Gregurke head on the way down, and a telling symptom of the possible severity of the injury was no movement from the subject and the stubby dislodged from the hand.

The Gun Rider arrived at agreed destinations a good 30 minutes ahead of the everyone else.

Phew

This was where good planning kicked in again.

It’s important to make sure of a basic first-aid knoweldge and kit, or better still, ride with a doctor and a nurse. After our BMW-riding doctor attended to Phil’s immediate medical needs he was back on the phone to the RFDS in Port Augusta.

“Are you the same doctor we were talking to a few days ago from Cameron Corner?” was the greeting.

We were getting a reputation.

Some others in the crew also required attention due to tripping over obstacles, dropping beers and over exertion in their haste to help, but everyone looked on as Phil slowly regained consciousness.

Furrowed brows were wiped and tensions eased.

PAYG

Our good doctor received instructions from the RFDS on how to access the life-saving goodies stashed away in the onsite RFDS emergency cupboard. Some pain-relief medication was administered and further diagnostic pokes and prods were executed.

Questions only doctors can ask were answered. There was no sign of a rubber glove or lube, but the assessments did identify Phil should get on the plane and head down to Adelaide to see the neurosurgeon.

There was no plane available until the following day, as it turned out.

It was decided things were under control. Phil was in good hands with a neck brace on, his own medical team, a crew to run the pub, pull the beers, keep the DVD playing and cook up a feed for everyone, including the local grader drivers and a couple of tourists.

This gave Phil enough time to recover further and give his situation some serious thought. He came to the conclusion he should stay put. His decision may have been influenced by seeing us making a mess of his well-stocked kitchen and not keeping the beers up to the patrons as he would’ve liked. Even direct phone contact with the neurosurgeon and RFDS couldn’t change Phil’s mind. We roped the tourists in to running the pub while Phil would be away, and even that wouldn’t convince him.

The RFDS plane was cancelled, Phil was well medicated and headed off to bed with regular wellbeing checks provided by his personal medical team. The accountancy skills of the support driver kicked in and he diligently kept the bar tab.

So the story goes

The next morning everyone pitched in and completed the paving in the courtyard to remove the trip hazard before settling up prior to jumping on the bikes and heading to Birdsville.

The country looked sensational as the floodwaters moved through to Lake Eyre.

We did the trip out from Marree to see the lake and bumped into Chris Urquhart and Miles Davis mapping out the next BMW Enduro Safari ride.

Settling up the account at the Mungerannie pub provided insight into the importance of adventure riders doing what we do best: supporting rural economies while having a good time.

Phil is The Man at Mungerannie. He had a sore head and bruises to show for his experience, but was last seen sitting behind the bar waiting for his mate to turn up and the next group of bikes so the yarn could be spun.

The publican and only resident of the Mungerannie pub does everything from selling tyres to making a bloody good coffee.

Almost famous

The third contact we had with the RFDS was a far more positive experience.

Hungerford pub is full of character and a place not to be missed. We camped nearby in Currawinya National Park next to Lake Numalla (possibly the coldest place in Queensland as the tents were totally iced up), and the pub had not only great hospitality but hosted community events. We happened to turn up on Wellbeing Day, sponsored by various organisations, providing the opportunity for the community to get together and access preventative health and wellbeing services. A quick yarn to the RFDS doctor and IT person identified they’d heard of our exploits. It seemed we’d earned quite a reputation and it was great to see the community work being done by the RFDS.

Happy endings

Did the bikes need any first aid?

There was the broken subframe of the XT of course, but the Yamaha continued on to complete the journey. The Englishman never did turn the DRZ in to a GS and ended up throwing in the towel on the last day of the trip as it continued to have fuel issues…or perhaps the last 400km of blacktop looked so boring he elected to throw the bike on the trailer and keep the support driver company until we hit Toowoomba.

The Gun Rider, on another GS, paid the price for arriving at agreed destinations a good 30 minutes ahead of th everyone else by absolutely shredding his rear tyre just outside Mungerannie. The rest of us watched him endeavour to plug a tyre that looked like a cheese grater. The spare tyres in the support vehicle came in very handy.

The very broken GS made its way back to its recovering owner on the back of a truck from Cameron Corner and the benefits of having a good insurance policy kicked in. The replacement – a 1250GS – was delivered with new riding gear. The smashed ego remained though, and still causes pain whenever the topic is raised.

It must’ve been noisy in the bar. He shouted himself hoarse.

Key lessons

• Support the RFDS whenever you have the means
• Be prepared. If possible ride with your own medical team, but if that can’t happen, make sure you’re sorted on first-aid skills, have the right gear and know how to access support wherever you’re going
• Keep riding to those remote areas and support the locals to halt the rural decline
• Get up, get back, get on the throttle and give the pony its head in the sand. It worked for most of us and we all came back better riders and better people.

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