By 
Four to the floor Marika Edstein looked adventure in the eye when she headed to Alice Springs for her first big ride.
The author’s bike on the Oodnadatta Track. The track was in good shape for this ride.
After months of planning we loaded up the bikes and left Gloucester, NSW, and headed along the tar to Bourke and the start of the real riding challenge. There were four of us: Chris Macrae, Kyle Rodger, Andrew Pearce and myself, all on 650s.
I was suffering from some serious nerves and had no idea what I was about to face. I wasn’t sure I’d make it to the end of day one, let alone to Alice.
After stopping at the end of the tar to adjust tyre pressures we set off on our baptism of fire.
Kyle, Chris and Andrew at Lake Eyre.
Need a lift
There was no easing our way because the road was ordinary from the start. We tackled it in 50km sections, and as I was bringing up the rear, all three boys were off their bikes by the time I had an unexpected ‘park’.
Yes, 50km on the sand and I had my first off. Low speed was always going to be my Achilles heel, but to only make 50km and to have everyone’s attention was a tad embarrassing. It was made worse by repeating the experience 10 metres later to the other side – just to even up the sand patterns! This time there were no witnesses, which was good, but as I couldn’t lift my bike I was left waiting for help, hands on hips, frustrated and wondering what the hell I was doing heading into the middle of nowhere.
Relaxing at Dalhousie Springs.
A little shade in a dry creekbed on the way to Dalhousie Springs made for a good stop.
Buckle down
It seemed like it was all going to be thrown at us on the first day.
About 70km from Tibooburra Andrew became separated from his bike on a corner. Thankfully he was okay, but his bike was less so. It had a buckled front rim and bent forks.
In the excitement of the day Kyle had ridden straight past without seeing him and the sun was disappearing.
After getting Andrew’s bike back on the road and the forks as straight as possible, Chris and I headed to Tibooburra to find Kyle, leaving Andrew to hobble in behind arriving just before dark like the champion he is!
Flinders’ ruins…the buildings, not the riders.
The author enjoying her success.
Fillet up
Repairing Andrew’s rim proved more challenging than anticipated.
After borrowing some extra tools from the locals, we still resorted to plan B, and the next day Andrew grabbed a ride to Broken Hill with the local police-man, Glen, in search of a new rim. At the 11th hour Rob’s Dirtbike Repairs saved the day by building Andrew a new wheel.
After a couple of days off the bikes we set out for Cameron Corner and the promise of camping under the stars.
Chris and Andrew found their campsite from last year, and thankfully Kyle rode my bike over the very soft dune and we made camp. It was spectacular!
It turned out we were closer to the Strzelecki Track than we thought. I was pretty excited about that because it meant no more sand for a while.
I hated the Strzelecki! The crosswind was exhausting and I found myself looking forward to getting on to the track that would take us to Arkaroola.
The run to Arkaroola was great fun, full of fast whoops, dry creek-bed crossings and watching the boys herding emus up the road.
That night most of us felt the need to sample the national coat of arms – both kangaroo and emu were on the menu at Arkaroola. While I was happy to find my emu fillet on the small side, the boys looked forward to a heartier taste of kangaroo. It seemed they’d worked up an appetite.
Ready for action at Mt Dare.
Make and mend
If I’m being honest there are some things men are better equipped to deal with than women. Having to navigate boots, knee guards, Skinz, pants and so forth in addition to finding some sort of cover, just to go to the toilet, had me bring along a trusty Shewee. I have to confess, even with practice runs before the trip, after three riding days of persevering, the risks of disaster were just too great.
It remained in the backpack for the rest of the ride.
An easier riding day took us into Leigh Creek and included more great roads and wildlife encounters, and I nearly wrapped my arms around an emu at a creek crossing.
The easier riding allowed time to do some bike maintenance.
The Old Ghan Railway is a great backdrop for the hardworking bikes.
In tents
I was happy to find the Oodnadatta Track in good condition – by ‘good’ I mean more gravel than sand – on the way to William Creek, and we stopped off at Maree for the boys to have a play with the trains.
We set up in the camp ground at William Creek Hotel which had amazing showers and spent the night hanging with the locals at the hotel and talking to an empty tent – that’s a long story.
We eased into a new day checking out some rocket memorabilia, changing air filters, packing up camp and then heading further north towards Oodnadatta. The boys had some fun on the way into town. Note to self: Leave space between me and the bike in front – I broke a headlight. Damn Chris!
Thankfully there was a bed to be had at The Pink Roadhouse. I was exhausted and I don’t think I could have held it together if it was the tent for me that night.
Even the long straight roads had spectacular backdrops.
Sucked in
A famous Oodnadatta burger, a rest day, clean clothes, a bed and some sleep had me keen to get back on the bike.
There was a slight delay on hitting the road, as Chris chose diesel over unleaded fuel. There was no permanent damage, just a chance to get the tools out.
Eventually we were on the way to Dalhousie Springs.
The road was much looser, with plenty of large stones and a couple of dry creek crossings for good measure.
Stunning Red Mulgas lined these creek crossings, and their blood-red curly bark was such a striking contrast to the muted tones beneath them. To say the road had rough corrugations would be an understatement. Kyle and Andrew had some trouble keeping their bags tied on their bikes, and this gave Chris and me a few breaks while we waited for them to realise what they were missing.
Once we’d set up camp it was time for a rewarding dip in the springs and the fun of being nibbled on by hundreds of tiny fish.
It was an early night though, and as soon as the sun dipped below the horizon the tranquil setting of the afternoon became a mosquito-infested swamp.
The little bloodsuckers could even find skin through denim!
The boys rock.
Distance
After a morning swim in the springs we headed off for Mt Dare.
Finally, after 10 days, I started the day feeling like I’d finally found my rhythm. How wrong could I be?
Everyone had suggested we take the Blood Creek detour to Mt Dare.
My undoing was four kilometres of hell, riding through the deeper, winding sand sections. Watching Kyle and Chris battle through the first deep section of sand knocked my confidence. My bike and I planted into the bank, only to be told by my rescuer there was a worse section up ahead.
Somehow I managed to stay upright as my bike and I used the entire width of the road and some of the bank, but we got through the next section. My excitement was short-lived when I dropped it again.
I was feeling defeated, and the boys rallied to my side and after some pep talks I made it to Mt Dare. Eighty-four kilometres had never felt so far!
Approaching Wanaaring. The gravel roads are a lot easier to ride than sand
Success
Mt Dare was a haven, and after taking a rest day to energise and to do some work on the bikes, I was as ready as I would be to tackle the Finke Road and make Alice.
I have to confess, other than remembering an early start and just focusing on the 20km to 50km sections ahead each time, my only memory is that it wasn’t as horrendous as I was expecting. The road was much straighter than previous days in the sand, so we were able to travel along pretty quickly.
It was such a massive sense of relief when we hit the tar just out of Alice and I realised I’d done it!
One adventure down, many more to come.
Comments