I think the first thing that people wonder is why did he do it, but then people often say I wish I had done something like that.

Moving further south I came to the Devils Marbles which are very large round boulders laying around some on top of each other - the name is quite good as they looked like monstrous marbles, thrown around by nature.

Alice Springs... a magic name so a place you imagine to be quite special. It is the most central part of Australia and that is why I thought it very special. The town itself was not that different to others to look at but I felt different about it - maybe it was the time of the year as, when I saw the place, the Todd River no longer existed as it had dried up. Aboriginals camped on the river bed which, I was told, was a very dangerous thing for them to do as when the rain hits the high land it rushes down and fills the river bed again without much warning.

It was around 200 miles from Alice to Ayers Rock and I set off one morning intending to get there by the end of that day, but I did not really know what was ahead of me. The southbound road itself was ok and looked ok when I turned off in the direction of Ayres Rock but there was only about 50 metres of bitumen. After that I could see that the road conditions looked quite horrendous. There were cars coming back from the Rock, so I stopped a couple of them and asked what the conditions were like further on. I was told it was like it is here and in some cases worse. The most positive thing that was said was do it and go there because it is a sight worth seeing. Well it took me about another 2 minutes to decide I was going to do it.

Looking back now I would not have changed my decision though it was one of hardest tasks I could have put myself and the bike through but if I had not have done it I would not have known what I am capable of doing. From the main road there were 152 miles ahead of me. Riding was so dangerous due to the corrugations, deep holes and deep sand and I had to keep my speed down to 15 to 20 miles per hour. That night I arrived at Curtain Springs about 50 miles from the Rock. I pitched the tent and crashed out after quite a tiring ride.

I got up the next day to continue the rest of the trip and, as I got closer to the Rock, it seemed the sand got deeper and riding got a bit harder. I was at this time beginning to think I may not be able to ride much further as the conditions were very hard. However, I got to the Rangers post, signed myself in, and then pitched the tent. The next thing was to ride right around the Rock, and this made me realize how big it was.

I picked up a t-shirt and oddments at the shop, a bit to eat and had a couple of beers which were well deserved and that helped to wash down a lot of the roads dust. Suitably refreshed and with a little Dutch courage I decided to climb the Rock. As I was going up I met people coming down, who advised me not to continue as it was very windy. However I continued, as I considered this an opportunity not to be missed. The distance from the bottom to the cairn at the top is 1 mile and 7 feet. It is all well-marked and I signed the book before coming down. I now hit a problem - I was wearing motorcycle riding boots, which made it hard to go down such a steep slope forwards - so I descended backwards, holding on to the chain handrail...

The next morning, when I got up, was a bit damp with a lot of dew around and I saw the Rock looking silver in colour. I had heard about the rock changing colour but never expected to see it.

It was time to hit the road again and make my way back. When I was riding I found myself constantly using my senses and waiting for something to happen. I was on the road for about 1½ hours when I smelt oil burning. I stopped to look and found that the oil feed pipe at the top of the head had worn on the coil and was squirting oil onto the exhaust.

I stopped and waited and eventually somebody pulled up. He exclaimed
'Ah! You're the fellow who was coming down the Rock backwards!'

I said yes... he then asked what was the problem. I told him what had happened and he said
'Just your luck for traveling on your own.' and then drove off. I thought why stop if you were going to give a comment like that. The next person who stopped was towing a caravan and had NSW plates on. He asked what had happened and when I told him he said
'Let us have a look under the bonnet. What about the washer pipe? That looks about the right size.'

He cut a piece off for me and would not take anything for it - what a great person he was.

I carried on for quite a way and then the oil leak started again. I saw a young fellow with a ute and saw he had some wire on board and asked him for a small piece. He kindly gave me some and I stripped the plastic sheath off and used it to tighten the oil pipe - that got me right through the rest of the trip and was still on the bike when it returned to the UK.

I continued the rest of the day and it was dark by the time I got off the dirt road. I stopped at the Roadhouse at Kulgera right on the border of the Northern Territory and South Australia, where I pitched my tent. I had to stay at Kulgera 2 or 3 days as the rains had caused the roads to become impassable. I spent those few days in the roadhouse, which was quite small, talking to people who were also waiting for the rains to stop so they could also make tracks again. Reports came through that the roads were drying up and should be OK to start making progress south. I set off the next day and there were large vehicles still on the side of the road some looked to be stuck and waiting for help.

The Norton In Australia Archive

NVQAssessor

18.05.06 Front Page

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