Day 19: Learning from Leveque, 5th. Lieutentant’s Log

The team awoke at Leveque after having been told that meals were not available from the restaurant on arrival, as we were once again, misinformed, under informed and just late getting to a destination.

This was something we were accustomed to and were able to, instead, digest the information that we had a fifteen minute walk in the dark to make it to the takeaway provider that closed in 10 minutes .Frodo somehow managed to turn this into 30 mins. arriving sweaty and disorientated to the amusement of Wedge who had removed the maps from his grasp and then sped off. The Fisherman’s basket, sans basket, resplendent in non biodegradable bleached wrapping paper proved popular.


Thus began the dawn, and our joy at our location. Somehow we were perched on the point with stunning views in a direction that the darkness of the previous night had concealed. The great sun god Ra arose and beckoned…..


The Robinson Crusoe like dwellings had prompted unparalleled camaraderie from the members and fishing was the order of the day. A local inhabitant had hired us his boat and after a 2 kilometer trek through the dunes we arrived at the launch site. No rods, bait or tackle.

The unparalleled camaraderie was about to evolve into something unforeseen, as a bait gathering mission from the rocks was about to become a burly collection exercise, as the unsuspecting Wedge was stalked from behind by the long suffering, knife wielding, Frodo.

Just as well we had booked in to the restaurant as the bait was apparently as attractive to the fish as it was to us.


Gal, Teflon and Squeaky hung out at the café, wondering if a general all points alert should be activated, as the small vessel which had disappeared around the point , some hours ago had not be resighted.


Finally the weary, sunburnt hunters returned and rudely disturbed Teflon, who had finally reached the one interesting point in a long volume. Page 102. Marble counter tops and love fulfilled. Teflon’s retelling of the storey attracted the attention of the entire group.


Cape Leveque’s rocky forms reminded us of the gorgeous Gorges we had seen earlier, only in miniature.


Satisfied in having crossed a continent, three time zones, at least two deserts, traveled 6000 kms. from Bass Strait to the Indian Ocean and arrived in the tropics, we were somehow transported in mind and spirit to a Bruce Brown moment - an endless summer


Thus concludes the voyage of the 0-to-B and the log of it’s crew. We have endured the slings AND arrows of outrageous fortune and in the process are now nobler in mind.

Friendships forged in the cauldron of the interior will endure like the Tanami sands, like grit in your eyes and the indelible layer of red film.

We have overcome the difficulties of serious mechanical failures through innovation and resourcefulness and yet never managed to quite grasp that an early start would mean an early arrival.

Our journey has inspired us to seek solutions, answers and new sights, the physical having been previously traversed and mapped leaves the former as the realm of the new brave and inventive.

The journey then continues.

Day 18: Broome or Bust

Following the departure of Gal’s faculties into the spiritual never-never, a new force was needed to guide the team to its ultimate destination.

Latent leadership qualities emerged in the Wedge as he hatched a plan for a perfect pelaton. The riders aimed their machines toward Broome, and sped in stunning formation for the final 250 kilometres.

Upon arrival, a symbol was sought to document the moment as testimony to the completion of the ride. Broome does not possess a gateway image (we photographed ourselves under a roadworks sign), rather it is all about the beach, Cable Beach.


Breakfast on the beach was the fitting reward for our efforts, and the team feasted on tasty morsels and regaled stories of a spectacular ride. Self congratulations was short lived as there was still much work to do.


The local population was indifferent as the team unpacked and repacked the support vehicles, rearranged the gear and rushed the ailing trailer to emergency. On this penultimate day of the trip, much preparation for the handing back of the vehicles and bikes was required using precise logistical strategies, something that had deserted the team to date.


Collectively the group shifted mentally into cruise mode as the formal part of the mission was completed. Our next destination for some R& R was Cape Leveque, situated 201 kilometres to the north. The Wedge had been commanding like a demented dictator, and in a final moment of madness both he and Wolverine led the troops directly up Cable Beach into the sandy yonder. The truck and trailer both came to grief, bogged in the murky morass at Nudie Cove.


Gal snapped back into action in response to this decay in discipline. He installed Frodo and Evel as the new crack unit, charged with the responsibility for leading the rabble up Cape Leveque Road.


Road was probably a generous description. The track was more a red sandy luge, furrowed out of the landscape. Our intrepid heroes ground and slid the Suzukis north, while Wolverine, Teflon and Gal whimpered in the Toyotas. Wedge fought back and flayed the Landcruiser up the walls like a half pipe, while Squeaky calmly plotted his course through the motoring madness.


Retired General Gal finally slipped into a sea of senility. He was arrested for grog smuggling by the local constabulary. Gal, a confirmed teetotaler, had been running the evil fluid for years, hidden behind his mask of propriety. Squeaky tried to help and is seen here reaching for the satellite phone to call legal aid.


We hobbled into Cape Leveque, and were transformed by ethereal qualities in the landscape and an evasive attitude to resort planning and time structures. We had reached our own dreamtime, lazing in the lap of true beauty.

Day 17: Kimberley Dreaming

The team awoke exhausted on the banks of the Fitzroy River, reclining in safari tents, proud of their achievements the previous day.


The task for the day was to traverse the Kimberley high plains across to Derby, in a dreamtime tour of the gorges on the Gibb River Road, the last dirt track before we reach Broome.

After riding through a burnt plateau, our first stop is the Gelkie Gorge, where the team touched water for the first time in weeks. Massive limestone walls defined the path of the Fitzroy River, and provided a resting point for several fresh water crocodiles, positioned strategically to excite the passing parade of lens snapping tourists. Wolverine and Frodo lapsed into a trance like state in simpatico with the stories of the dreamtime.


He may not have made it on to Mount Rushmore, but Tricky Dickey graces the walls of the Kimberley. There are plans to fashion the image of other world leaders such as Bill Clinton inhaling, or even John Howard, but some wise members of the team suggested that he may have fossilised already.


The intrepid riders returned to the track and battled their way through a string of obstacles. Chief rider Gal led by example, by climbing every mountain, fjording every stream and following his dream. Frodo stayed back, in awe of the leadership displayed by the master, only to be cleaned up by Wedge in apparent control of the fast approaching and wildly careering truck.


Frodo suggested we visit his extended family in the caves at Tunnel Creek. Here the throng emerge from the black lagoon, and are drawn to the light in a throbbing devotional frenzy, in deference to the sun gods.


The team escaped from the primordial clutches of the tunnel people, and swiveled and wobbled their way into the distance. Evel was light years ahead of the others in riding prowess, and had sufficient time between stops to satisfy his passion for anthropology, botany and the wonders of the natural world. He would analyse and theorise on the texture of native grasses. It was Evel who explained to the team, that the boab tree was not a genetically modified construct designed to incarcerate wrongdoers, but a desert fig with a thyroid problem.




The Gibb River Road summoned the team toward Derby. A dusty and hazy path pointing to the edge of the continent. Spiritual Leader Gal became transfixed by the setting golden orb, and was drawn to the end of the Derby Pier in an irrational and other worldly transportation of the mind and body. His devotees were left lost and confused, unable to muster a plan for the final step to their ultimate destination.

Day 16: The Tanami Tamed

Actually waking up intact after a night spent at Wolfe Creek gladdened the heart of the team. The regular routines of the morning began to unfold.

Squeaky pounded the dust to the sounds of Vangelis, keeping the Adonis well prepared for the grueling days ahead. Squeaky had proven to be a very adept chef, creating a bush penne amatriciana for the team the night before. Packing a healthy dose of chilli, it made a night of sleeping in a confined space unpleasant for some.


The Wedge took a less vigorous approach to the new day and slowing started blending into the landscape.


Field Marshall Gal summoned the troops and laid out the plan for the final assault on the Tanami. Firstly he sought a report on how seven architects, builders, engineers, project managers and an international financial consultant could miss the real camp site and an adjacent clearing last night, and why we had to set up our base on a road. He decreed that the answer lay in the force of Wolfe Creek and ordered a sortie to the crater.


Many million years ago, a massive meteorite gouged a giant hole in the desert, forming a primeaval coliseum like space. Teflon contemplated the significance of this geological catastrophe and sought inspiration for the ride ahead.


After another 150 kilometres of corrugated hell and undulating dusty corners through cattle station territory, the end was in sight. Teflon embraced the bitumen as a long forgotten friend. As the road temperature soared over 40 degrees, it was fortunate that nothing sticks to Teflon and vice versa.


The Tanami had been tamed. The group embraced again (not unlike officers in the British Army), in a moment of self congratulation and vigorous back slapping. The moment was only a temporary highlight, a small victory in the overall theatre of operation, a now known known, for the remainder of the continent remained unconquered.


The group aimed the machinery toward Fitzroy Crossing, with a minor incursion into Halls Creek. The power of the Kimberley landscape with its rocky folds and vast plains overwhelms with its raw beauty.


The team had passed through a few indigenous communities, and while not possessing the wisdom or authority to judge, were sufficiently moved to question whether current policies would rectify the situation. We visited Yiyili, a community of some 300 people. The schoolteacher escorted the group past a gallery, elders sitting and painting and sleeping school children. We felt a sense of hope and committed a small amount of money on behalf of Southern Chances to assist children in their pursuits.


The local bovine population welcomed us into the Kimberley.

Day 15: Nightmare at Wolfe Creek

Refreshed from a good nights sleep, the team began to contemplate the day’s journey.


Squeaky had stepped up to join Wolverine as one of the Iron Chefs for dinner and breakfast. The day started ominously as Wolverine used Squeaky’s personal plate as a meat tray. Now Squeaky is a vegetarian Adonis, and particularly sensitive to intrusions on his personal herbivorian space. The issue was resolved amicably, but the omens were not good for the day.

Early morning activities included bike skills training at Evel’s suggestion. Exercises included a slow race and a slalom course around bush objects.


The grind through the dust continued, as the kilometers passed endlessly through the morning.


Eventually the border with Western Australia was reached, revealing a spindly entrail into the distance.


Disaster struck as the super size corrugations gained revenge on the ailing trailers. Vigorous argument erupted between Frodo and The Wedge on the intricacies of trailer repair, with Frodo once again throwing himself onto the ground, displaying his new pants to the passing wildlife.


Evel suggested driving practice down the Tanami as a diversion from the mechanical stresses. His efforts in coaching Gal in the fine points of golf would be enough to make Greg Norman choke.


The spiritual connection that Wolverine held with the crater at Wolfe Creek, intensified as it grew closer. The electro-magnetic crossover between the two strengthened, effectively buzzing the wiring on Wolverine’s machine. His bike was rendered completely useless and ground to an agonizing halt.


The team still managed to proceed through the Western Australian desert

Passing through local communities opened our eyes to the dilemma of the indigenous population living in a western environment.


The mechanical collapses retarded the progress of the team in their quest to reach Halls Creek. A last minute dash was made to Wolfe Creek in the eerie darkness. Buffeted by deep sand tracks, the team became completely lost and set up bush camp for the evening in the only clearing they could find, a dirt road. They nervously awaited the morning.