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.