Stronger Than Ever

My mind is at rest from the constant worry that something may go wrong and threaten this journey’s equity.

The Mule was running great, I had been religious with my oil changes and the bike mechanically and cosmetically was A1. I was enjoying life to the fullest, cruising up the west coast of the Eyre Peninsula. I had met Callum and Ash a couple from the south coast of NSW who were slowly making there way to WA to find some work and explore everything on the way. Aljoscha, a 20 year old German legend. Who I had met and surfed with in Tassie then ran into at Bells Beach was also in our surf convoy up the coast. Although it had been fairly cold and wet, The good waves were making up for it.

We took off seperately one morning all with things to do, knowing we’d probably all run into each other by the end of the day. It was a crazy day, there was a constant thick fog all the way into the afternoon. It was mid afternoon and I headed for a break just north of Elliston. Callum and Aljoscha were already standing at the look out staring at this left hand reef break from the top of cliff. I saw one break as I was getting off the bike. The boys said the sets were big and weren’t keen on going out. There was already about 4 guys out, I started suiting up not looking at the waves so I didn’t phsyc my self out. Callum and Ash still had things to do, I was secretly hoping Aljoscha would start suiting up too. We scaled down the cliff face, probably getting laughed at by the locals for going the wrong way and paddled out into the haze. From the line up you couldn’t see the sets until they were literally on top you, and after a wave I was using the white water line as a guide back to the take off. Some local guys were ripping, pulling into the bigger sets that were dredging on the rock. I was sitting a bit wide, paddling into the middle size ones and the ones that were breaking too wide for the guys on the inside. They were still a good 6ft and heavy. My little 5″10 twinny was just hanging on, the fins were humming. It reminded of watching Dad fly down the face of a big set at Boneyards, on the same board probably ten years ago. I had such great surf, Aljoscha would paddle back out from a wave with the biggest grin I’ve ever seen! We had both got a couple of barrels and were frothing.
It got late and we had to find a camp, so we went in and got warm. And went and found Callum and Ash just on dark. Ash had cooked us all a massive bolognese. These guys were Gurus! I could stash wine in there van and cheese in there fridge. If we came in from a surf, Ash would boil the kettle and we’d all drink tea and warm up. At the time I wasn’t feeling well but we had a few to many glasses of wine or port anyway. The next day I felt crook as, I think it had something to do with all the tuna I was eating at that point and the alcohol didn’t help. I was slow to pack up, the crew had all bailed. I gulped a few Panadol, and hoped I would feel better after a while on the bike.
I was coming up to the intersection to turn onto the highway, I started flicking down through the gears and slowing down. I don’t know what I did wrong, wether it was a lazy gear change or shit clutch control. But next minute there was snap, crackle, pop from my gear box. The rear wheel locked up and was put into a big slide about 50 meters from the highway. I instantly knew I wasn’t riding out of there. I sat with all my gear still on just staring at the motor, wondering wether to start stripping it down hoping it would be something simple, I tried to turn the motor over one more time. I couldn’t get into neutral and with the clutch it wouldn’t roll. I hit the starter, it made a loud clunk then nothing.
I had one bar of reception up the road. When I was departing home, my generous sister gave me some money towards road side assistance. I arranged a tow, to the nearest mechanic at Elliston. Which was the same bloke that towed me. He didn’t want to touch the bike, the nearest bike mechanic was in Port Lincoln, 250k away. The Mechanic was a funny bloke. He said, “I need to do some groceries, ask them if I can tow you to Lincoln”. I geed it up with the insurance mob and before I knew it I was back in Port Lincoln, the Mule was at a workshop getting Diagnosed, I was in a motel room lapping up the luxury that the small fee at the beginning of my journey had bought me, while the Mechanic from Elliston was getting paid $750 to go to town to do his shopping with a bit of company and a trailer.

The next afternoon I was told the bad news that 3rd gear had shattered the rest of the gear box and threw a shift fork into the crank. Leaving the head the only thing salvageable from the motor, even the inside moldings of the casings were broken.

I left the bike there for one more night and started making phone calls, searching for a new motor. I found a contact in Port Lincoln from a ADVrider forum online. I went up to Matty’s house and we talked bikes and thought of options to get the Mule back on the road. Matty invited me to stay at his house from the next night. He brang his car and trailer the next morning and we parked the Mule in his shed along side his original model KLR650.

The search for a new motor went on and on, a sale fell through and a motor with no history was $2500 exchange with the old motor from a parts wrecker in Melbourne.
After a few days of hanging out with Matty and Haansi, a German fella riding a Transalp, who also came and stayed at Matty’s place a few nights. I eventually found a DR650 going cheap only an hour from home.
With a lot of help from Mum and Dad, my epic sisters and brother in law. (No pressure) they had the motor from the donor bike in a crate and on a truck to Port Lincoln.

I had a few days to kill until the motor arrived and Matty wasn’t working. We spent the next day sailing his Yacht out to Engine bay where we moored the night and sailed back the next day. I had a ball, even though it was dead calm and we had to motor most of the time. I convinced Matty to put the sails up, he turned the motor off, we were barely moving. Drifting at 1.5 knots. It was still an amazing experience, climbing to the top of the mast.

The motor arrived the afternoon we got back to Port Lincoln. I didn’t hesitate on putting it in that evening then finished it off the following day and also sending the shattered motor and my surfboard home, as I was headed for the desert and wouldn’t be finding any waves out there. I was stoked on my last surf which was a good feeling to finish that era of the trip.
Matty escorted me out of town on his KLR, we said farewell and I thanked him for helping me out and keeping my spirits high.

I raced to Cactus beach to catch up with Callum, Ash and Aljoscha. They told me of the great waves they had been scoring, I was jelouse but enjoyed my time in Lincoln and was just happy to be back on the road.
Aljoscha lent me his long board to surf to surf Cactus with him and Callum. I should have counted my losses. The surf was great, I was having a ball on the mal. I got caught inside by a bigger set. In the turbulence I thought another board hit me, I popped up to see Aljoscha’s beloved longboard in two pieces! I felt like sinking and drowning. I was not in a good head space.

Aljoscha took it surprisingly well. I took off that afternoon to try and sort out bike problems.The new motor wasn’t running right. It was surging at top end, and leaking excessive oil, which I could not pin point the source.
I stripped it down multiple times looking for carby problems and the reason for the oil leak, with no luck.

For the next two days it rained and was crazy cold, I slept wet each night and due to the wet conditions of the tracks and my lack of confidence in the reliability of the Mule. I was forced to take the more populated beaten path up through South Australia to the Red Centre.

I met up with Aljoscha again in Port Augusta and gave him some money to help get his board fixed and said our final farewells. I prepared my self and the bike for the desert and with the burden of a problematic bike between my legs, proceeded towards the Northern Territory.

A few fun days on the Oonandatta Track and dropping into Cadney Park Roadhouse to catch up with some friends I had met in Tassie. I was enjoying not having the board strapped to the side anymore. I could ride a lot more confident and aggressively.

I was blessed to be asked to meet up with Stuart Jones and Phil Pallas in Finke to help out with the Spark Australia program, a program creating awareness of Alcohol and other drugs in Aboriginal communities over the weekend of the annual sports carnival. Taking aTroopy load of the local fellas to Dalhousie Springs, camping for a night amongst other eye opening experiences, like hunting Kangaroos and Emus and watching the Finish and start of the Finke Desert Race made an awesome week that will hold in memory for a very long time.

With Cape York in less then Half a month. I needed to get back on the road too explore places like Uluru, Kata Tjuta and Kings Canyon. All these places left me speechless, the natural beauty of these rocks and Gorges in such an arid, flat landscape is something pictures can’t do any form of justice.

The Mule had finally over come it’s surging problem and was running great, but the oil leak was still giving me grief. I was done trying to diagnose the problem my self and took it to the capable hands of a bike shop in Alice Springs. $85 and a new timing chain tensioner gasket and the haunt of the oil leak for the last month was gone. My mind was fresh and I was keen to get to get to Queensland where the weather would be a touch warmer.
Feeling happy and free I covered over 700klm along the Sandover highway the following day, falling just short of the Queensland boarder.

It’s now just over a week until I meet up with Susie, Stuart and Jake for a 3 week mission from Cairns to Cape York and back and I’m jumping out of pants with excitement! We are back, stronger than ever.

Keep Riding
Billy.

Today I learnt the news that a school mate passed away in an accident last night. It’s brung me to think that you never know when your number will be drawn. So get out and enjoy your life. Your dreams may be there tomorrow but you may not. Rest In Peace MJ, my thoughts are with your friends and family.

More Then Just Work

To be able to keep this journey in momentum I need to be able to afford to live without an income. So finding work along the way is the not only good for the bank account but a great way to meet new people and enjoy new experiences as well.

Lucky enough for me I got hooked up from a good mate at home, Sean Condous. “Oh yea, I got a mate in Tassie who might want a hand”
Next thing I know, I’ve aced a few weeks work with Adam Leard at Agricultural Netting Services. Erecting bird nets over fruit orchards in south east Tasmania.

I couldn’t have asked for a better gig, working for a better bloke. Adam knew my plans and helped me out in every way he could. He hooked me up with onsite accommodation and invited me into his home with his family on the weekends when there was no work. Giving me a bed to sleep on and keeping me full with some awesome meals. All this while having Tim, another work mate stay at his house at the same time!
We had some good times at work and on the weekends, between drinking beers on Adam’s deck, camping and shark fishing down at South Arm or surfing 2ft slop with Tim in the freezing Tassie waster. There was never a dull moment.

On my second last night in Tasmania, Adam and Kylie had me over for dinner. We ate like kings, and drank a bit too. Adam and Kylie’s sons, Sam and Connor, drew me pictures and made me bracelets to take ahead on my journey.

One last massive thanks to Adam and Kylie, with out people like them this dream would not be possible! I hope I can come back and work for you again in the not to distant future!

After leaving Adam and Kylie’s place at sun break, I had to make it to nearly the other side of the state to get new tyres fitted that afternoon. I saw all four seasons that day, rain on the way out of Hobart, ice on the road in the highlands and beautiful spring lunch coming through Golden Valley then the heat of Devonport in the early afternoon.

I headed to Zane’s Bikes n Bits, Zane helped me out with a front and rear Mitas e-07 and new brake pads all round for a good price.
My rear brakes were so worn they looked as though it had been metal on metal the whole trip! It took a good 10 minutes of grinding to get the disc to resemble anything of a new one.

After the Mule being fitted her new shoes and an era of trip with in hours of ending. I called up Darren Nightingale, I had met Darren, his brother Marcus and they’re old man Rob. At a place called Macquarie Heads, Only a week or so after it had began the Tasmanian leg of the trip.
Between the three of they knew Tassie inside out and could tell me countless awesome places to go.
I got in touch with Darren and I made my way out to his place, we had a coffee and Darren showed me his pride Joy, it was a mint as Kawasaki Z900. Darren started it up for me, I became weak at the knees and almost hit the deck.

Darren’s wife Jodie cooked us a brilliant meal and we went and caught up with Marcus one last time. Before heading back to Darren’s for some shut eye.
Running on minimum sleep I left the comfort of Darren’s spare bed trying not to wake the household and rolled into Devonport to jump on the ferry back to the big island.
I was so lucky I didn’t have to pitch my tent on the last night, thanks to Darren and Jodie!
Looking back on Tasmania there is still a lot more I need to see, a lot more I want to do, and new friends to catch up with. I can’t wait to go back!!

Keep Riding!
Billy

Surf! Surf! Surf! Part II

After leaving Stefan’s property and my few good nights sleep in the cave. I was keen to get down to Shipterns Bluff to check out what I’ve only ever seen in videos and magazines.
Shipsterns, known as Shippy’s is a shallow, right hand point break that only works on big southerly swells. As far as I know it only does it’s thing 2-3 times a month in the rite season.
I camped at the start of the 1.5 hour walking track in, with the only other access being by water craft.
I arrived in the afternoon following a surf at Remarkable Caves, not far from Port Arthur.
I had looked at the swell forecast, and it did look promising that Shippy’s could have at least some sort of form. Just to make things clear, I had not planned to surf it at all. The wave is known to be one of the heaviest breaks in the world. My reason for going was primarily to see it in the flesh. Wether people were surfing it or not.
I woke at about 4:30am to voices in the car park of the walking trail. I I thought they must have been divers or fisherman, up early to get in and out before work. I stuck my head out of the tent so see about 5 or 6 guys, with boards and camera gear!
Pumped to go and watch, I quickly got dressed and hit the walking trail in pitch black darkness.
I had no idea where I was going, just following what looked like a track under the light of my headlamp.
As the sun slowly rose, I knew I was heading in the rite direction. After just over an hour walk I arrived at Shippy’s. It was cracking!

The sets were 12-15ft plus, the guys that walked down with there boards must have known a shortcut, as they were already there psyching up to paddle out.

The sets were not possible to surf without being towed in by jet ski. 3 guys rocked off and paddled into the take off zone. The roar of the waves dredging below sea level, peaking into the sky and throwing over like a curtain and crashing on to the rocks was enough make my knees weak, and I was safe on the headland.
The blow out from the tones of water moving across the rocks looked like it would rip ones wetsuit off.
The 3 heroes sat for about an hour before one of them caught a wave. He paddled into what looked like a middle size set. As it hit the rock and started to dredge, it grew to at least 3 times overhead. He took the drop, made a perfect bottom turn, stalled and he disappeared behind the curtain. I thought he was gone for good, never to be seen again, until he shot out of the barrel like a cannon ball.
By now there was a small crowd of body boarders and hikers watching. The headland was like a mini stadium, people cheering and clapping. The surfers caught a few more waves while I sat in amazing watching.
It came around lunch time, it was cold and raining, I hadn’t eaten yet. so I thought I would try to find the shortcut back to the car park. 3 hours later I finally found the car park. You think I would have learnt by now, not to take shortcuts!
I was so stoked to be lucky enough to see such a world class surf spot, surfed by what I would call, world class surfers! I definitely have had some great luck on this trip!!

It was hard to capture the waves on camera, so you may have to use your imagination a bit.

Over the next few days I worked my way up the East Coast of Tasmania. I surfed some fun waves, did a small amount of fishing and met some more great people.
One of my most Favourite camps on this trip so far would have to be Bay Of Fires. A free camp nestled in the dunes of the beach near Binalong Bay. I stayed here for 3 nights surfing twice a day and enjoying the relaxation of the white sand and aqua clear water.

My funds were starting to decrease a bit faster then I first thought they would before I left home over 2 months ago. I didn’t want to run out of money all together before trying to pick up some work. Thanks to Sean Condous, a good family friend. I’ve picked up 4 weeks of work erecting nets over a cherry orchard. I have accommodation on site, work with a great bunch of blokes and have a workshop to work on my bike at my own will. I couldn’t ask for a better set up.

Looking ahead, I’ll be heading back to the mainland around the middle of April. Meeting up with some much missed family and friends then start making my way to Alice Springs for the Finke Desert race, the long way around!
This trip so far has been one of the funnest, craziest, and most fulfilling things I’ve ever done. Traveling alone can sometimes be lonely, but I’ve found your never alone. There is always someone to have a chat to. And more often then not these people will make you feel at home where ever you are! Get out there!!

Billy.

Surf! Surf! Surf!

Tasmania has brung me some great luck with waves over the past few weeks.

After getting fun waves on the West Coast. I decided to make tracks, find some waves on the East Coast and try to pick up some work. Before heading back to the mainland for the RipCurl pro at Bells Beach, around Easter.

I rode to South East Cape, the southern most point of Tasmania to tick that one off the list. It was a long weekend, the camp grounds were packed but it was a beautiful area. I snuck into a walking track on the Mule and found a secluded spot on the headland to my self. After 3 nights of living off fresh fish and Abalone, there was no waves so I hit the beaten path again in hope to get wet.

I made my way up through Hobart, stopping in at Mt Wellington to look over the top of what Hobart has to offer. The view at the summit was stunning. The temperature difference from 30 minutes down the road must have been at least 10-15 degrees! I was sweating it out in the Hobart traffic and freezing cold at the top of Wellington.

It was getting late into the afternoon, I was cruising along looking for a place to set up the tent when I saw the sign for the ferry to Bruny Island. Next thing I know, I’m at a place called Cloudy Bay with the tent pitched, dinner cooked, sipping on a cup of dirty red, watching the sun set over the mainland land of Tasmania.

About 5 minutes after checking in on my Spot Device. I received a phone call from my Nan & Pop. They had booked me a spot on the Bruny Island cruise for my birthday the very next day.
What an insane experience! The cruise went for about 3 hours and covered the whole South East arm of Bruny Island. I got to experience, dolphins jumping in the surf of the boat, seals sun baking on the rocks of smalls Islands, albatross gliding across the top of the waves all with the magnificent back drop of the jagged cliffs and coast line. A massive thank you to my beautiful Grandparents for the generous birthday present, such a fun day!

I stayed at Cloudy Bay on Bruny for the next few nights, surfing, fishing and being lazy. I had Shipsterns Bluff on my mind and the swell forecast was looking good for the following week.

The Tasman Peninsula had a lot to offer. I ran into a German guy by chance, that I had met a few weeks earlier at Marrawah. He invited me to camp on his property at Roaring Beach. Not knowing that he owned the top of the only whole hill that looks over the beach. I took up his offer and he rondevue’d at the beach later in the day. The surf was on shore so headed to his house. Stefan lived in a small humpy, but had everything he needed for simple living. He offered for me to sleep in the cave, reluctantly I said “sweet, sounds good!” Turns out this cave had the best view in the world and the second most comfiest mattress!
The next two days were spent, waking up to extraordinary views, surfing, picking fresh blackberrys, eating breakfast on the deck,catching possums, Abalone diving and building a fence using old snow skis as posts.

Stay tuned for part II of this blog over the next few days.
In the mean time Go catch some waves or have a burn on your bike!

Keep Riding!
Billy.

Tasmania

It has been an eventful few weeks!
After the World super bikes at Phillip island, I woke early and made the dash for Port Melbourne to catch the Spirit of Tasmania to Devonport.

The Ship ride was smooth and relaxing, I was able to catch up on some much needed sleep after a full on weekend at Phillip Island.
At Phillip Island I was lucky enough to meet, Zane Harmen. Zane has a house and a motorbike shop in Devonport. He let me bunk at his house and we did some much needed maintenance to the Mule. Zane’s hospitality was second to none! I ate and drank like a king and slept in a full size bed for two nights. I can never find the words to thank people enough for their kind hospitality when departure time comes around. But I just hope good Karma comes their way.
I set off for Marrawah, hoping to find surf, I did! It was bliss. Surfing three times a day for a few days made lugging the board around all worth while!

On my last night in Marrawah, I met Pete and Tracey. A couple from Victoria, riding around Tasmania for two weeks on there canary yellow DR’s. We rode the next day together, doing some sight seeing. We rode to Dip falls and Big Tree! Both breathtaking sites.

Pete and Tracey treated me as there son. We camped in a campground at Waratah with hot showers and a pub near by. These two wonderful people didn’t let me pay for a thing! The most I could do was buy them a drink with dinner. I still can’t come to terms with how incredibly generous a complete stranger can be when you share basic threads in interest, travel, adventure and motorbikes.
The following day, the three of us headed to Corinna to get the Fat Man Barge across the river. Where we split paths, not knowing that we would run into each other again the following day.
After a hell of afternoon, taking me 4 and a half hours to ride 26k. I was exhausted and my bike was very worse for wear. I had bogged the bike in a huge black mud hole, it took every minute of an hour and a half and every last bit of energy I had to dig my self out. My board rack was snapped, everything was caked in mud and I had lost a few liters of fuel while the bike lay on its side.

I finally made it to a camp just before dark, set up and got my self warm. The next morning was brilliant, a perfect day but a lot on my mind to get fixed.

I made my way in Roseberry and got the board rack repaired at a small engineering factory. Free of charge, I’m beginning to wonder why people are being so kind. Do I look lost? Grubby? Poor? Who knows, Ill shake there hand and thank them the best I can before I depart again.

I headed for Montezuma Falls. Running into Tracey and Pete again on the track in. It was another rough ride, but well worth it!

After the falls I rode onto my next camp at Strahan with Tracey and Pete, we had a fun ride up the beach and we said our farewells for the second time. As they Headed for Queenstown in the late evening.

Today is laundry day, after 3 weeks of no washing I’m looking forward to clean clothes! Unfortunately, I pulled my computer out to write this blog to find the screen on my laptop had shattered. So please excuse my spelling and lack of grammar as typing on my phone is not something I enjoy.

Here’s a shot of Tracey and Pete. Many thanks for your help and Hospitality P & T. It’s great to travel with some like minded friends for a while!

Keep riding. Billy.

Adventure Film Festival

Just a quick write up on The Australian Adventure Film Festival.

I was lucky enough to be in Bright, Victoria last weekend for the Film Fest. A small but growing festival covering all corners of adventure. Wether it was motorcycle travel, four wheeled journeys, or a walk from Perth to Sydney in a storm trooper suit. You were bound to find something to inspire you to get out there!

I was able to meet and talk to a whole variety of over landers from across the world. Sharing stories of there journeys through crazy countries I would never even think of travelling to.
The films were epic, most being low production, low cost clips filmed with hand held action cameras and edited by the journeymen them selves.

I need to give a few people a big shout out for having me along to be part of such an awesome event! I could write a whole list of names but ill concentrate on a selected few that helped me out and inspired me to keep documenting all my travels through words and images.

Rupert Shaw and lez (unable to retrieve last name). These two guys were just a couple of the main organizer’s of the festival. They welcomed me with open arms, hooking me up with a weekend pass and invited me to put the Mule on show in the festival grounds!

Rowan Sked. What a guy! Being a fellow bike rider, we got chatting and had a bit of a ride into the mountains together. After I told him that both my cameras had failed me and stopped working. He was kind enough to lend me his Drift HD Ghost camera for my journey. Such an overwhelming gift from someone I had only met days earlier! Cheers Rowan!!!

Adrian Podlich, one of my best mates I haven’t seen in about 7 months. AJ made the trip down from the coast to catch up for the weekend after just returning from Canada a few weeks back. A few stories were exchanged over a few to many beers. I was lucky enough to show AJ some of the incredible places the high country had to offer.

Grant from OffTrack motorcycle adventures and rental. Grant hooked me up with a new tyre for the Mule and even let me bunk under his Marquee for a night at the festival.

A last big tanks to all the other organizers and volunteers of the Film Fest and Our little drinking posse. It was a great weekend, hanging out with like minded people and sharing experiences and stories!

I suggest you pencil in the weekend of the 14th, 15th and 16th of February 2015. Get down to Bright and check out some of the activity that the Film Festival Has to offer.

ATFF Homepage

Keep Trippin!!
Billy.

Mt Kosciuszko

Well, I made it! To the top of the highest mountain on Australia’s mainland.

After spending Thursday and Friday nights relaxing by the Murray river, enjoying the surrounding wildlife reserve and the odd swim in the river I decided to make the short trip to climb Mt Kosciuszko.

Saturday was early start, out of the tent and all packed up not long after sunrise. I headed to the town of Corryong to fill up with fuel. I followed a track on my maps device which was supposed to take me over a small mountain and into the lower end of Corryong. It was a warm morning and I was feeling pretty good about my chances to make it to the summit of Kosciuszko by lunchtime. Unfortunately the track that was to bring me into town was non-existent. I followed a small trail which was heading the wrong direction but looked promising to bring me out into some sort civilised area. After about an hour of descending down a newly created and very sandy track I found my self at two gates both leading onto locals property’s. The option of going back wasn’t really one I was keen to take. So I headed through the gate that looked the most used, after about 15klm of dodging cows and there freshly laid patties, I came to the house of who must be the owners of the property. Sneaking past there wasn’t any signs of movement in the homestead and I spotted the front gate which led out onto the tarmac road. Just as I was shutting the gate, a car came along the road and pulled up by the mail box. Asking me if I was lost as I was on his property I told him what I was up to and the farmer was happy enough to tell me the more convenient route to town.

I finally made it into Corryong, topped up the Mule with some much-needed petrol and set off for Kosciuszko via the Pinnibar Track. a fellow in town told me that the Pinnibar track was freshly grated and it would be possible to get a two-wheel drive car through to Tom Groggin.  It was good news, I could make up some time and get to Tom Groggin before it got to hot. That didnt happen, the track was rough, I don’t think a grater would even make it up to the to of Mt Pinnibar, let alone getting down the north side. After some good events trying to get the fully loaded Mule over some fallen trees and an intense hill climb which had me lay the bike down once I finally made it to the Mt Pinnibar trig point.

By this time it was starting to heat up and my visions of being at the summit of Kozi by lunch time were looking pretty slim. I started to descend down the north side of Pinnibar, things got pretty hairy! it was steep, loose and very unforgiving. My breaks were getting hot and hadn’t changed out of first gear for at least 12klm. I was starting to think the worst, “what if the track doesn’t go through? I will never get back up what I just came down”. Or if my breaks burn out, “I am going to end up engraved into one of the big gum trees on the side of the track”.

Just as I was starting to stress my self out a bit too much, the track let up and I was making some ground in the right direction. I stopped to clear my head and give my wrists a break to find I had lost one of my shoes, my leg rope had fallen out of my failing board cover, spun itself around the rear wheel and snapped. There was no chance of going back for the shoe, so I carried onto to Tom Groggin. A few river crossings and meeting a posse of four-wheel drivers along the way I finally made it to Tom Groggin where I planned to start my trek to the summit of Kosciuszko.

It was well after lunch, and pushing 35 to 40 degrees. Such an eventful morning had me drained and I wasn’t positive about the 18klm trek. I cut my losses, rode into Thredbo and forked out the cash to ride the chair lift up the mountain. Turning the 18klm trek into a 13klm stroll. It was beautiful up the top, although it was a great day the wind chill took the bite out of the sun as I strolled along the steel grated path to reach the summit. To my surprise it was quiet busy, foreign people wearing platform shoes on guided tours, locals going for a romantic picnic on a Saturday afternoon and guru hikers carrying enough gear to make the Mule small. The view from the top was very magnificent, but I think some of the other summits I had reached on previous days such the Blue Rag were much more stunning. But it was definitely a one time feeling being the highest person in Australia at 2230 meters.

It was late in the afternoon once I had returned from the top, I didn’t have much choice but to camp in the Kosciuszko national park and pay the fees that come with it. Luck was on my side though, I got into the camp ground late and left bailed early the next morning dodging the Ranger and the fees.

life on the road Is all about budgeting, and if you can skip small fess like this. It makes a lot of difference down the track to push through an extra couple of weeks without having to look for work.

Keep Tripping!

Billy

I

This is Australia

We definitely live in a lucky country, although my journey is still only just beginning. I am continually being blown away by all the beauty Australia has to offer!
From sneaking through locked gates to get a free nights sleep, to the vast amount of legal free camps there are on offer. There is no excuse for anyone with any mode of transport to not get away and enjoy a part of it.

I feel like I have been held captive by the Victorian high country. After spending some time on the coast around Merimbula and the Ben Boyd national park I made my way up the Snowy River towards Delegate, into the Snowy River national park. Trying to stick on the dirt roads all the time isn’t always possible. But its amazing what you find when you jump off the beaten path! As I headed for a camp by the name of Willis, which is situated on the banks of the Snowy River on the Victoria and New South Wales boarder. I routed a path along McKillops Road. A tight winding dirt track through the Alpine national park with severe cliffs faces on the right and plundering drops on the left down into the gorges below, it was like something out of a National Geographic magazine. Crossing McKillop bridge was an experience., the existing bridge was built in the early 1900’s and it definitely feels like it when your riding over it!

Heading towards Willis, I was lucky enough to spot a herd of Brumbies on the road, something I had never seen before which was amazing. A swim in the bath warm water of the Snowy River was good to wash the dust off!

The following day, I rode into Omeo and treated my self to a beer at the pub which went down a bit too well and had to be chased by a second.

Hearing news that my sister and her partner had bought a bike from Bairnsdale. Which was only a few hours ride away had me head back to the coast to catch up with them for a night at Lake Tyres as they headed back to Sydney with their fresh new steed. I managed to get some fishing in and spend some time at the beach.

Still with the high country on my mind, I couldn’t resist it for too much longer. I shot north-west again and made my way up through Dargo and over the range toward Bright. The Dargo High Plains Road had a lot to offer and led me to a track that I’ve always been curious about, called the Blue Rag track. A steep loose fire trail heading west leads out to a trig point. With views over the mountains for as far as the eye can see, this place is more than magnificent.

Rolling onto tonight’s camp at a place called Smoko river, I found a nice shady spot by the cascading river. Half way through writing this post I hear what sounds like a Lada Neva running on two and half cylinders making its way towards to me, it’s just a friendly farmer on his tractor letting me know I’m camping on his land, but is more than happy to let me stay a few nights.

Plans for the next week or so are to give the bike some much-needed attention, a new rear tyre, fork seals and an oil change are high on the list. Then hopefully heading up to climb Kosciusko and spend some time on the Murray River before heading down to Phillip Island for the World Super Bikes then over to Tasmania on the 24th of February.

Many more good times to come and so much more exploring of this wonderful country of ours!

Keep riding.

Billy

Benny’s Worlds Greatest Shave

My best mate Benny, hasn’t had a haircut for two years! He has made a noble commitment to shave his head in the name of the Leukaemia Foundation, on the 14th of March, 2014. The Leukaemia Foundations acts in providing practical and emotional support to people with blood cancer, as well as investing millions in research.

This is an inspiring decision made by a dude who is always there to help out a friend or anyone in need. I am sure that every one in the world knows someone who has, or has them self battled a fight with the evil cancer. This post is dedicated to those people, and to help out Benny achieve his goal of $500. He has already raised $210!! I think that if enough people go with out that coffee on their lunch break tomorrow, or that extra schooner down at the pub next weekend. Benny will be able blow his goal out of the water! It only takes five minutes and you can donate as little or as much as you like. Every cent helps!

Jump on this link to donate to Benny and help out those in need! https://secure.leukaemiafoundation.org.au/registrant/FundraisingPage.aspx?RegistrationID=518598#&panel1-5

THANK YOU! GO BENNY!!!!

Billy.

On The Road

Been on the road for a week now. Everything is exactly what I had imagined. Awesome people, Epic places, disasters and good times!

After leaving the coast and heading inland because the surf was flat and peak season had all the beaches packed with people, I camped in the Deua National Park and planned to head to Bendethra caves the following day. I plotted a route over the range which in theory should of only taken me an hour or two. A ranger came around to hit me for a camping fee, I told him of my plans and he insisted that I wouldn’t make it through that track. I should have listened!

Woke up to a beautiful day and kicked it off with a swim in the creek, packed up the Mule and hit the track. I decided to go the way I had planned, the track couldn’t be that bad! A few sketchy sections at the start had me on my toes but nothing extreme, I came to the bottom of a steep hill climb with a slight bend in it. Its looked ok, so I throttled and hit it at a good pace. Less then a stone throw from the top, the surface turned to sandstone with a few inches of sand on top. The Mule couldn’t hold straight, I bounced off a good size rock from one side of the track to the other and everything went pair shaped. I dropped the bike on the board side, I rolled away with out a scratch, just a corked hip from hitting the board. Fuel was leaking out of the breather hose, the board was jammed under the bike and I didn’t have the strength to lift the bike back on its wheels. I eventually got the board out and ended up sliding the bike around to point it down the hill. Using every bit of strength I had I got the Mule back on her feet and rolled back down the hill. A quick assessment of the bike and board found no damage. There was no way with out unpacking and walking all my gear up the top that I was getting up. With a bruised ego I back tracked and went the long way around to Bendethra Caves.

The next couple of days I spent exploring the caves and relaxing by the crystal clear creek. Packing up the Mule to head back to the coast to try and get some waves I noticed on the the brackets that the rear rack is bolted to had snapped off the frame. The other three mounts were just enough to hold it together so I could make it about 100klm of dirt road to Cooma to find someone with the gear to weld it up. Everything went to plan and the guys that helped me out with the bike were legends. I was back on the road by midday and everything was back on track.

On the road again, I hit up a free camp just out of Bega that night with toilets and showers, It was good to wash the dust off! Met a couple of really cool people and ended up spending the next few nights camping on the coast with Tom, riding his pushbike from Melbourne around Australia and enjoying all the adventures along the way.

Its been an insane week, if its anything to go off the rest of my journey is definitely going to be one to remember!

Keep Riding! Billy