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.