Photo albumAustralia 2014 - (3) Postie Bike Challenge

Day 1 (Sunday 7 September 2014) – Brisbane to Chinchilla

It was an early start – I was up at 4.30 am with the intention of having breakfast before leaving the hostel, but the kitchen was closed and I had to abandon my food and make for the train station instead. I got the 5.34 am train to Mooroka then a taxi at 6.00 am to the Pro Honda garage where the Postie Bike Challenge was starting from. We’d set up our bikes the day before at the registration day so it was a quick route briefing and we were off.

First section was on motorway. We had running sheets attached to our handlebars and thankfully I was following another guy (John) who was doing a better job of following them than I was as I’d have missed the turn off for Esk if he hadn’t turned off ahead of me.

Off the motorway it became very pastoral as we headed over the Great Dividing Range. I was loving it – the bike was so easy to ride and very stable.

The Postie Bikes only hold enough fuel to cover about 120 km. To supplement this we have a 5 litre jerry can in our milk crates which gives us another 150 km, but as today’s total mileage was 361 km we had a refuel at Goombungee. From there we continued through various small towns then had a diversion off the main road to see the Dingo Fence near Jandowae. After this I missed the next turn to “Warra 26” and was 20 km off course when Andy, one of the support team, caught up with me and made me turn around and go back. That added an additional 40 km onto my journey causing me to run out of petrol 12 km from our destination of Chinchilla, just as the rain started pouring down. I had to pull onto the side of a very busy road and tip in the last of my fuel before finally making it to the showgrounds at Chinchilla where we were staying for the night.

As it was still pouring down, I set up my tent in a small cattle shed on top of a pile of hay and old manure – “a shit place to sleep”, according to Christian, one of the other riders. It made me laugh.

Day 2 (Monday 8 September 2014) – Chinchilla to Nindigully Pub

The day started well – I was up at 5am with my tent down and everything packed by breakfast (our meals are provided by local community groups). I made good time to the refuel at Condamine then mis-read my running sheets and missed the next turning to “Meandarra 52”. There was a column on the sheets that gives the mileage to the next point – what I didn’t realise was that the number given is a cumulative total, not the next distance to be covered. Consequently, I wasn’t even expecting there to be a turn off outside Condamine as the distance to the turn, as I read it, was 61.5 km. What it actually meant was at the 61.5km point there was a turn off (as we were already at 58.3 km this mean the turn would be in about 3 km, not 61.5). Sometime later when I got to a sign for “Meandarra 38” and no-one else was around, I figured something had gone wrong. As “38” seemed less distance than “52” I took this road and eventually got the Meandarra around the same time as everyone else. It was only when Andy pulled up in the support car and asked what had happened to me that I realised my mistake. Unbeknownst to me, some of the other riders had seen me miss the turn, alerted Dan (the organiser) and he’d gone 50 km after me before Andy was able to confirm that I’d shown up in Meandarra.

Given the chaos I’d caused, I decided I’d better ride with someone else from then on, so turned to the two guys next to me (Pete and Stew) and asked if I could ride with them. And thank goodness I did as the last stretch to the Nindigully Pub was on a gravel track. Stew took off at 80 km/h and as I was between him and Pete, I thought I’d better keep up and whizzed along the thing at 80 km/h too. It was a bit scary going into some of the turns and I quickly learnt using the brakes was not the way to approach them. Rolling off the power worked better as it avoided the back wheel locking up.

When we pulled into pub, it seemed news of my slight detour had reached the rest of the support crew asevery time I passed one them, I got some comment about “What way did you come, Jill?” Cheeky beggars!

Day 3 (Tuesday 9 September 2014) – Nindigully Pub to Charleville

The next morning, as if to make up for slagging me yesterday, Scott (the mechanic) greeted me by saying “So how’s the wonderful and lovely Jill today?” I had to give him a kiss for that and it left me grinning all morning.

Having learnt my lesson about riding alone, I asked a man I’d been chatting to at the Dingo Fence the day before, Dave (Cardiac Surgeon from Sydney) if I could ride with him. It was slow going as there was a strong headwind along the 250 km road to Mitchell. But what beautiful scenery – huge panoramas of empty bushlands.

I made the mistake of eating an apple at the fuel stop at Mitchell which left me very parched and thirsty and feeling quite odd. When we came into Morven I was completely overheating and had to strip out my jacket liner and dowse myself in water to cool down.

The road from Morven to Charleville I’d done on my last trip so felt I was coming into familiar territory here.

We camped at the showgrounds at Charleville and I almost cried with laughter when Pete’s chair collapsed beneath him during dinner.

Day 4 (Wednesday 10 September 2014) – Charleville to Windorah

As there were only six turns to make on our running sheets for the day, I started off alone, thinking even I couldn’t go wrong with that. I hadn’t gone far before I caught up with Ned so rode with him as far as the roadhouse at Cooladdi. Here, Diana, one of the six women on the trip, noticed there was oil all over my front mudguard. Fortunately, Andy was there and tightened my “tappit” which seemed to fix the problem.

Some distance further on, Andy passed me in the support car and indicated for me to pull in. Now my brake light was jammed on. Scott sorted this by wiggling a wire at the refuel at Quilpie.

In Quilpie I had a Powerade with Pete and Stew who then offered for me to ride with them. Unfortunately the Powerade went straight through me and within 50 km I had to leave them and head for the bush for an emergency toilet stop.

Today was a good day. Saw my first live kangaroo (as opposed to all the road kill), some emus, lots of cows and sheep, some wild horses and two emergency airstrips painted on the road.

At dinner, Scott came up to me and informed me my footpeg had fallen off my bike. I couldn’t believe it, surely I would have noticed something like that? But right enough, when I went to have a look, it was gone. Once again, I had become the butt of the support crew’s mirth.

Day 5 (Thursday 11 September 2014) – Windorah to Birdsville

Today’s ride started out wonderfully. After leaving Windorah, we entered the vast plains of the Channel Country. Only a few escarpments in the very distance stood in the way of uninterrupted views for miles and miles.

The first 110 km were on bitumen. We all rallied together at the end of this, just before we entered the dirt road of the Birdville Development Track. From there on in, my riding fell apart. I’d asked Dan the night before for some pointers on riding the dirt and he’d said the main thing is to keep the centre of gravity as low as possible by putting pressure into the footpegs and if the bike starts to wobble just to let it and it will usually right itself.

I started off down the track at 60 km/h, doing just what he’d said. But it was terrifying. Everytime I hit a trench of gravel, the bike would start to wobble and it felt like it would surely go over. By the refuel point 100 km later I was down to 50 km/h. After that the road became a carved up mess of gouges with deep corrugations, sand pits and gravel grooves to get caught in. The remaining 200 km into Birdsville was the most gruelling riding I’ve ever done. I was down to 30 km/h. The corrugations were bone shaking and by the time I got into Birdsville my arms were aching with having gripped so tightly (a phenomena called arm pump). I was one of the last to reach the town and as I rolled into the campground, Scott told me I’d have to go back out and fuel up at the petrol station as Dan had had to take two people to hospital and wouldn’t be doing the refuel in the usual way.

John, an elderly English man, and I had done the last 30 km together and when I pulled into the petrol station behind him and took off my helmet I burst into tears. I was completely shattered and the emotional and physical pounding of the day had left me a mess.

I had really been looking forward to seeing Birdsville, in fact, it was the main reason I’d done the trip in the first place, but I’d arrived so late in the day, I barely had time to set up camp before running across to the bakery where dinner was being served. I really struggled to keep my emotions in check during dinner and went to bed immediately after, having seen nothing of the town I’d come to see.

Day 6 (Friday 12 September 2014) – Birdsville to Mungerannie Hotel

During breakfast, John, my English compatriot, told me he was pulling out of the Challenge. This really upset me and left me feeling very shaky about the whole trip. By the time I got back to camp, I was a mess. Anthony, a gorgeous Hugh Jackman look-alike, who’d I’d met on the first day and had a few laughs with, was camped next to me. As I was packing up he started chatting to me. I have no idea what he said as the next thing I knew I was bubbling uncontrollably. The thought of spending the next 3 days on dirt tracks like this was overwhelming me.

Before leaving Birdsville, Dan wanted to get a photo of us all lined up outside the Birdsville Hotel, an outback icon. As we lined up our bikes and started taking pictures, Anthony came up to me and said “I’m just going to take it easy today if you want to ride with me.” I could have kissed him. He was an experienced dirt biker and was always the first one into camp each day. “I’ll pick out some lines and you can follow me,” he promised but as we left town and joined the Birdsville Track south, we got separated in the mass of other riders and I ended up on my own again. I was all over the place. I had no idea how to handle the ruts and was even stopping and manually paddling my way over ridges and troughs to try and find smoother ground. After about half an hour I became aware of someone ahead of me. It was Anthony – true to his word, he’d waited for me.

He watched me ride for a bit, then pulled me over and told me what to do. I was struggling with the trenches. “Whenever you come to a set of grooves, pick your line, keep your speed up and power through it,” he said. “If you develop a wobble, the momentum will carry you through.” Then he set off and I started to follow. We hit the grooves at 60 km/h and amazingly, he was right. It was actually much easier to ride the road at speed than it was to ride it slowly. But it took nerves of steel.

By the time we got to the refuel I was feeling much better. As I climbed off my bike, I went over to Anthony and gave him a big hug. “Thank you” I sighed. “No worries” he said, “you’ll be up at 70 or 80 by tomorrow”. “Hah, not likely,” I replied.

He stayed with me for the rest of the day – sometimes letting me ride ahead, sometimes letting me fall behind. It transformed my riding and we were amongst the first to arrive at the campsite at the Mungerannie Hotel. There were hot springs there so I jumped in, fully clothed. It was a great end to an amazing day and I went to bed that night thanking my lucky stars that Anthony had taken me under his wing and shown me how to ride the dirt properly.

Day 7 (Saturday 13 September 2014) – Mungerannie to Maree

After my lesson with Anthony yesterday, I blasted it down the rest of the Birdsville Track today, sometimes at 70 km/h. I felt much more in control and as we only had 208 km to cover there was plenty of time to stop and take some photos and take in the scenery.

At one point we came across an escarpment so detoured off the road to walk up – amazing views from the top of flat, endless plains below.

By 1.30 pm I’d made it to the end of the Birdsville Track at Maree. Gary, “Hand” Mike and some others were already at the sign, so I jumped off the bike and ran over to celebrate with them. I was in the pub half an hour later with Anthony congratulating me for having overtaken half of the field on my way out of Mungerannie. “See, I told you you’d be up at 70 today,” he said.

A great night in the pub with everyone in high spirits from having survived the Birdsville Track.

Day 8 (Sunday 14 September 2014) – Maree to Arkaroola

Despite the joys of completing the Birdsville Track yesterday, I was weepy again this morning. The hotel TV was full of reports about the forthcoming referendum of Scottish independence from the UK and, somehow, it made me sad. I was also worried about the next stretch of dirt we’d have to tackle.

So far we’d most been on flat, straight tracks, but today we were going to climb into the hills to a place called Arkaroola. Dan, during his morning briefing, advised us there would be lots of steep ascents and tight bends so to be careful. Linda, one of the Postie Princesses (Linda & Kylie) and I had been trying to work out how to avoid doing any more dirt the night before in the pub, but now accepted we’d have to do it. Before setting off I asked my riding instructor Anthony how to handle the bends. “Okay, as you approach a bend, pick your line, roll off your speed and then keep the speed steady through the bend,” he advised.

The first part from Maree to Copley was mostly on bitumen and was a joy to ride. At Copley the dirt started again. I’d stopped for a cup of tea there where I’d been talking to Canberra Mike and Alice Springs Dave, and when I left, Mike decided to ride with me. I was ahead and did exactly what Anthony had told me to – found my line, adjusted my speed and kept it steady through the bend. It worked a treat and we had a lovely trip up through the mountains to the outdoor centre at Arkaroola.

It had been another hot day and as there was a swimming pool, I dived in fully clothed. God, it was freezing.

Tonight Dan had arranged for us to stay in proper beds in the outdoor centre so I was sharing with Diana, a lovely lady from New South Wales whose husband had had to drop out of the Challenge the day it started due to a very bad cold.

Day 9 (Monday 15 September 2014) – Arkaroola to Orroroo

Today started with another warning from Dan about the treacherous condition of the roads ahead – “I’ve actually put ‘Beware dips, sand, gravel’ in your running sheets and I haven’t done that anywhere else, so be warned, this is not a good road surface so take it slowly.”

We back tracked the first 30 km then took the road to Blinman. This took us onto a high ridge and we were battered with strong cross-winds. At one point the motocross boys were standing by the side of the road waving at us. At first I thought they were just being friendly, then as I got closer, I realised they were signalling for us to slow down as there was a huge sand pit which I later found out had broken two of Christian’s spokes when he landed in it. I managed to roll off just enough power not to hit it too hard and bounced through to the other side still upright. This marked the start of the “dips, sand and gravel” Dan had been warning us about. The next 200 km were a nightmare of sand pits, steep ascents and carved up surfaces but surprisingly I found I wasn’t thinking about it anymore. Maybe I was just too tired to worry anymore, but I was no longer talking myself through all the tricky bits, I was just doing them. Even a couple of wobbles didn’t frighten me anymore as I knew the momentum would carry me through. Having said all this, it didn’t stop me from prostrating myself on the road and kissing the tarmac when we rejoined it at Blinman.

Now you’d think rejoining the tarmac would be a joyous occasion, but now the wind had got up and the last 100 km through the spectacular Flinders Ranges mountains into Orroroo was a painful ride into a strong headwind.

Thankfully the local people had prepared hot soup and a fantastic dinner for us so we all had nice warm bellies to fend off the cold winds whistling through the campground.

Day 10 (Tuesday 16 September 2014) – Orrorroo to Adelaide

At breakfast this morning Scott asked how old I was. “Fifty-one” I replied. I have never seen anyone look so stunned in all my life, his face literally froze in shock. “I thought you were more like 35 or 40,” one of the Mikes said. I turned to thank him for the compliment and when I turned back around, Scott had vanished. Any thoughts he may have been having about staying in touch were obviously quashed in that moment.

Dan told us all that we were on a deadline to reach Adelaide by 2 pm because the Rotary Club would be waiting to meet us then and take the bikes away. Hence it was another intense day’s riding. Our final ride was accompanied by another strong headwind, although thankfully not quite as bad as yesterday’s one. We refuelled at Clare which was more like a Formula 1 pit stop with Andy waving us in, us filling our tanks, and then jumping straight back on the bikes and continuing.

As I came into Gawler, “Hand” Mike passed me which I was quite pleased about as the running sheet directions were quite complicated and I feared I would easily lose my way. However, between Mike and some others catching up with us we were able to find our way onto the right road through the Adelaide Hills into Adelaide. We all rallied together in a shopping centre car park then rode into the city into formation.

We made it to the rendez-vous with the Rotary Club in time and then that was it. It was over. We’d covered 3,500 km in 10 days through some of the most beautiful and remote country on earth.

We were booked into a 5 star hotel that night and a celebration dinner was laid on. We all got certificates to mark our achievement then, slowly, we all disappeared off to our rooms. The Postie Bike Challange was over and I had survived.