24 October 2020

 I'm awakened by a combination of early morning light and that gentle sound of waves lapping / breaking on the nearby beach.  Eyes closed in an attempt to go back to sleep, I roll over, but as it becomes obvious that it's not going to happen, I start to think that perhaps we should be getting up and on the road again.  Eventually locating my watch, I find that I've woken at the surprisingly (and disappointingly) early hour of 5.30AM and conclude that despite waking after only about 5 hours of sleep, I feel quite good.  There's no important soreness or stiffness, which is remarkably good news.

The view from the swag is quite nice - we're closer to the sea than I'd imagined, despite being able to hear it clearly.  The clouds look a little ominous, but the forecast does not include any notable rain.

I check the news, emails and all of that crap, then decide to get moving.  Mr C is still asleep as I head off to the bathroom for a bit of a morning ablute.  On my return, he's still not moving.  Poor little fella is all tuckered out - looks like he might be able to sleep all day!

He eventually stirs with some gentle shaking and grudgingly comes awake.  We pack up the swags and get things organised on the bikes.  I look around for an option to pay for our camp site, but there doesn't seem to be anything.  The office opens at 8AM, which we're clearly not going to wait for so off we go.  I push the bike down to the front entrance of the park before firing it up - don't want to wake anyone who might be still asleep, although it's probably a forlorn hope.

We head off out of town with an expectation of finding a service station, and therefore breakfast, but before too long it's getting a bit rural and no sign of the hoped-for station.  Reluctantly, we turn around and head back to town, eventually finding somewhere to fuel up bikes and bodies.  Let's just say it wasn't a particularly healthy breakfast!

We're eventually on our way at about 7AM, far later than it should have been due to our (my) stuffing around and poor choice on where to find fuel.  Off we go in a westerly direction through a series of relatively rolling green hills, moderately cloudy although there are small patches of blue sky.  The road is quiet, with just the occasional car and truck, both in our direction and the opposite.  Temperatures are lovely - nice and cool.  Lovely day for a bike ride!

It's really quite nice down here and having never been before, I resolve that I must come back again, although who knows when that might be.  Kilometres continue to tick by - first we arrive in Ravensthorpe for the first refuel and toilet break, then onwards to Jerramungup, where Highway 1 swings south for a while on its way to Albany.  My buttock soreness is increasing...

My mental calculations of fuel economy thus far on the trip, the distance since Ravensthorpe, and remaining distance to Albany has me concerned about the chance of actually reaching Albany.  There has been a surprising lack of fuel stations since Jerramingup, where I didn't take the opportunity to fuel up while Mr C was have a bathroom break, as I was stretching my legs.  With the appearance of the fuel warning light with a good 100km to Albany, I continue to curse my earlier stupidity...  Dropping down to 80-90 km/h to conserve fuel, it seems remarkably slow.

Driving through the hamlet of Manypeaks, I spy a fuel pump in front of the general store.  I loop back, pull up and find with disappointment that it is only 91RON fuel, which is below approved specification.  The lady behind the counter seems to be rather disappointed and somewhat curious as to why I've only put about $7.50 (6.2L) worth of fuel in the bike.  I sheepishly explain about the fuel quality issue and that I only need a few litres to get to Albany.  She loses interest very quickly...

We roll into Albany and find a service station on the main roundabout where we need to turn north towards Perth.  There's a little bit of last-second maneuvering through the roundabout to get to the fuel but we pull it off without being run over!  Of course, there's a delay due to the presence of a fuel tanker filling up the system, so we take the opportunity for a healthy pie and sausage roll(!), washed down with a Coke.

Fueled up, northwards it is.  Mental calculations about time remaining to the 24 hour mark and the remaining kilometres to get to 1,600 - it's not looking good.  In fact, it's not going to be possible at any level of legal speed.  Damn it.  We cross the 24 hour mark about with about 1,570km completed.  Damn it.  Mr. C takes a happy snap from his GoPro thingie to mark the occasion.

Admitting defeat, we stop for a relatively long late lunch in the roadhouse at Williams, where there's a nice salad to balance out the earlier evils.  It's very warm by now, so it'd a great opportunity to enjoy some air-conditioning and take a layer or two off.  We discuss our failure, but accept the fact that it was all to do with the long and slow exit from Perth.  A smarter starting point would have been out at The Lakes, or at El Caballo - anywhere but the middle of the city!  If we had of done that, then we'd have been fine.

The ride back to Perth seems like the slowest part of the trip.  It seems endless, my bum is very sore and it's hard to find a comfortable position for more than 5 minutes, and probably a whole lot less.  And then we're there.  Down the escarpment and stopping at the traffic lights in Armadale, I take 10 seconds to stand up to relieve the agony.  It's truly remarkable how much it helps.

Now it's a matter of navigating the stop-start of city traffic on the way home.  We make a final fuel up a few km from home.  I'm keen to get home and watch the remaining half of the Grand Final (AFL), but Mr C is not so interested, so he decides he will head straight home.

Unpacking is done to a minimal level, then it's time to settle in on the couch.  I find it endlessly amusing that the first thing I was to do when I've been on a long ride is to get off the bike and sit down.  It is true that my couch is far more comfortable than the bike seat...

Final fuel economy, fully loaded with luggage system and swag, trying to sit on around 118 km/h (110 km/h actual), has been 15.6 km/L.  Not so great, and means there's barely 300 km out of the tank.  Means there's a lot of breaks to fuel up, which is going to make it hard to keep up that 100 km/h average speed.  There's a bit to think about for future attempts at the 1,600 km in 24 hours!

23 October 2020

We meet up at my place at about 12.30pm in readiness to head off at 1pm.  As a bonus, my daughter also came along to see us off.  I take the opportunity to give last minute instructions in the off-chance something goes wrong...  Fun thoughts 😬

After some photo's of the intrepid travellers, we begin to get on board... and then there's a crashing sound.  I look around to see C's bike on the ground and him staggering away from it.  It seems he has misjudged getting on the bike with the swag and the bike has moved unexpectedly and then fallen over.

After checking that he's OK, which he fortunately is apart from a bit of ego bruising, we lift the bike and inspect for damage.  There's nothing major, although the end part of the clutch lever is snapped off, but certainly still usable.  The front indicator stalk is a little more problematic, swaying and hanging as it is like a pendulum on the wiring cable.  After a few moments thought of whether we will have to abandon the trip or we just ignore the problem, we decide to try and splint it with a few small pieces of wood (ice cream sticks from my collection of woodworking bits and bobs) and a heap of electricians tape!  In a matter of minutes, it's looking robust enough that we decide to continue with the trip.

On we get and head off to our starting point on the Great Eastern Highway - the Puma service station at Burswood.  Of course in the excitement of C falling off in the driveway, which is something I've done myself in the past, I've managed to forget my phone and wallet.  The phone is a crucial piece of kit for tracking our travel, taking photo's, recording fuel consumption etc. that it is impossible to think of going without it, let alone the impossibility of proceeding without a wallet!  It is a frustrating moment.

After a quick trip back home to collect the forgotten items, it's back to the service station to fuel up for the official start (the time stamp on the receipt).  It's 1.30pm and I have a real need to get going.

Getting out of Perth via the Great Eastern Highway is, for those who know the route, an exercise in (further) frustration given the amount of unsynchronised traffic lights.  We seem to catch every single light, although in reality it is possible we made it through one or two.

Up into the hills and the flow of the traffic opens up a little, although still at relatively low speeds dictated by the signage.  I also now realise that I've forgotten to put in my ear plugs to protect my hearing, so yet another stop to put them in.  It's all adding up to a rather slow first hour getting out of town!

Once we make it past The Lakes, we're up to full speed.  The GPS indicates that the speed needs to read 107-108 km/h in order to achieve the 100 km/h I want to average over the course of the next day.  We therefore need to be sitting on an indicated 118 km/h in the 110 km/h zones, which is not so easy with most of the traffic following their speedometers.

The next big trick is to understand what sort of mileage (or kilometrage) we're getting from the bikes that are far more loaded than usual.  I've got the full luggage system (Hepco & Becker side and top boxes, plus the swag) and travelling at a full 110 km/h, it's about as aerodynamic as a brick.  It's still a bit of a surprise to see the reserve fuel light come on a bit after 220 km, so we get our first fuel at the next town, which turns out to be Merredin.  C is rather bemused at my need to get fuel already, as he is expecting a range of some 500km out of his bike.  Helpfully, he notes that the KTM seems a bit thirsty!

We plow onwards to the east, by design heading away from the setting sun.  Past experience in cars showed that heading west in the sun as it makes its way to the horizon while motoring along the aptly-named Great Eastern Highway is uncomfortable and I was loathe to be travelling in this direction on the bikes.  Following the same idea, it's also why I didn't want to be travelling east into the rising sun.

There's relatively little traffic along the road which is nice.  The buffeting received from trucks moving in the opposite direction really doesn't add a whole lot of fun to the trip, although it definitely does keep you alert!  We pass the occasional slower vehicle, while faster vehicles overtake us, despite feeling that we're moving with some urgency.  It seems others have even more than we do.

Roadworks along the Highway to the east of Merredin provide both welcome benefits and unwelcome delays.  It's nice to have the opportunity to stretch those muscles being abused by their static riding positions when we stop at the traffic control signs at the beginning of each section of road being repaired, however the downside is the delay and reduction of average speed along the route.  It is usually only a couple of minutes of being stopped before we get underway again, but occasionally it does seem interminable, especially as we only travelled a few kilometres since the previous repaired section of road.  I remain hopeful that we'll be able to make up the time, but it is certainly going to be a challenge and the GPS trip computer refuses to give me much hope.

I lose count of how many sections we stop at, and somewhat ironically we always seem to be at the front of the queue.  It feels like a dozen times, but in reality it was probably less than six.  We head off again, sun blessedly lowering and the temperature also slowly falling to a very agreeable level, such that I'm no longer noticeably sweating.  I reach a point where suddenly I realise that there hasn't been any roadworks for a while.  Holding that thought, the kilometres tick by and it seems we might be past the delays.  We roll into Southern Cross and I fuel up again despite it only being 110km or so from Merredin, as this is the last assured supply of petrol until we get to Coolgardie.  There are a couple of small roadhouse type of places between Southern Cross and Coolgardie, but I'm uncertain as to whether they will be open and whether they will sell 95RON fuel and I have no real desire to run out of petrol in the middle of nowhere.  Whatever the delays to our progress have been so far, that would be a far worse option!

Refueled and downloaded, it's off into the deepening dusk we go.  Darkness descends rapidly and then it's just headlights and shadows.  There is a strange absence of vehicles moving in the opposite direction to us.  I'd expected a late afternoon exodus of people from Kalgoorlie heading to Perth for the weekend, but that isn't happening.  Perhaps they went earlier?  Perhaps they're going later?  Perhaps they've decided that Kalgoorlie isn't such a bad island to be on during COVID?  Regardless, traffic is light.

Bum and knees aching, the journey continues.  We pass those little isolated roadhouses where fuel definitely would have been available, one of which was lit up like a Christmas tree and looked reasonably inviting, the other less so.

Coolgardie is normally a sleepy little town, but tonight it seems positively abandoned.  There's an almost complete absence of cars in the street, an absence of signs of humans apart from the occasional light in a window.  We pull in to the brightly lit Caltex and fuel up.  Bright lights, two attendants tucked away behind the cash registers, waiting for us to complete our tasks and then return to their peaceful evening.  It's just after 7.30pm.

From Coolgardie, the road turns south.  It's pleasantly cool now, longer shadows, and there is the ever-present risk of bouncing kangaroos trying to kill us by bounding across the road that produces sober thoughts about the possibility of a collision.  Actually it's the static ones that concern me more, as their lack of movement against the dark background of the road and bushes makes spotting them a challenge if they sit still - it tends to be the movement that you see.  In the dark, finding on parked in the middle of the road is the worry.  We are fortunate enough to be overtaken by a car early on during this section of road, which will hopefully perform the task of clearing the road ahead of us.  Unfortunately it turns off at Kambalda...

By 9.30pm, we find Norseman.  The big BP service station where you turn off onto the Nullarbor Highway is alarmingly deserted and poorly lit, but it turns out to be open.  Normally this is a hive of activity with cars arriving from the east and heading off that way too.  COVID has had a serious effect here in a place that relies so heavily on the movement of people across the country.  We fuel up again and decide to purchase some of the most expensive cheese and tomato sandwiches on the planet.  They aren't very satisfying, but fill a hole.

Deciding against staying here, I determine to press on to the south.  I've never been on this road further than Salmon Gums, so I formulate vague plans about sleeping there and carrying on in the morning, however once we arrive, it's quite late and doesn't seem so appealing.  My tiredness is notable, as I think I see a kangaroo on the edge of the road and slam on the brakes, with C shooting past me with a surprised look on his face.  Turns out bushes can have similar shapes to kangaroos, and when combined with a reflector on a marker post, it gave me quite a start.

I consider stopping at several of the small hamlets we encounter as we get closer to Esperance, but it's later and later for each one we pass and the idea of just carrying on to Esperance grows stronger.  The halo of light on the horizon advertises its location in the distance, and as it increases in size and strength, I'm feeling more and more pleased to have made it in one piece, despite my growing weariness.

We pull in to the first caravan park we find on our arrival, trying to be as quiet as a 1,000cc v-twin motorcycle with sports pipes can possibly be.  We take the first available parking spots, kill the engines and unpack.  Rolling out the swag, necessary ablutions, and then attempt to sleep.  Turns out we're right next to the ocean, whose gently crashing waves on the shoreline send me off to sleep very quickly indeed.  

22 October 2020

So it seems that COVID-19 is not going anywhere anytime soon and that the WA border remains closed to the majority of us on the inside who want to get out (for a little bit at least) as well as those on the outside who want to get in.  The grand plan of my hot lap of Oz in 2020 is therefore dashed, given that I have no interest in crossing the north of Australia during summer.  It's most definitely a winter thing for me at least.

I've therefore been considering other rides that can be completed internally within WA.  The obvious ones are a lap of the SW of WA, of which there are several possible "sub-routes" the one might take.  Another one might be a ride out to the WA border, or to north along the coast and back to Perth through the interior, and so on.

The northern options don't really appeal to much at this time of year due to the heat, so I have been thinking more about the SW options and the one I can't help thinking of is one that might see me gain membership of one of those crazy long-distance bike riding "clubs", in particular the introductory rides that cover 1,600km in 24 hours.  The route I have decided on is Perth - Coolgardie (B) - Esperance (C) - Albany (D) - Williams (E) - Perth, which is actually around 1,800km.  If I can get as far as Williams, the various web pages I've consulted tell me that will be just over 1,650km, hence meeting the objective.

One additional exciting bit of news, for me at least, is that my son is joining me on the ride.  He'll be on his Kawasaki Versys 650, on which he has already ridden Perth - Melbourne and return, although not quite as long a days as this trip will require.  I think it will be a nice adventure to have together, and even he seems quite excited to be doing it!

I've decided that I will be taking the KTM on this trip, as it's been a long time since I've taken it for a decent ride.  It's recently serviced and also had to have the clutch slave cylinder replaced recently, so hopefully it behaves well.

We'll be heading off at around 1pm.  The plan is to get past Esperance tomorrow night, maybe as far as Ravensthorpe, but we will see how it goes.  If we don't manage to do the trip to Williams in 24 hours, that'll be bad luck.  The aim is always to make it back home safely.  Everything else is a bonus.

The trip can be viewed/followed by the following link;

https://spotwalla.com/tripViewer.php?id=24c3d5f91846a6f9fc&p=sillyboys

I will, of course, be posting a trip report of some sort once we get back.  Not sure how many photo's there will be as there won't be much time for stopping and smelling the roses!

Time for sleepy bo-bo's now.  Will need to be well rested for tomorrow.

19 May 2020 - the test run

One of the major worries I have for the trip is the distances required to be travelled each day if I am going to achieve the objective of doing the trip in 14 days.  Actually, it is THE worry that I have.  Everything else is of considerably less importance, even the reliability issue.  Covering more than 1,000 km per day, for 14 days...

In order to gather fresh data to help me decide how this might go, I decided to make a test run through the southwest of Western Australia on Monday 18 May.  This day was chosen due to the relaxation of the coronavirus restrictions for travel through parts of WA, with the southwest being opened up on the 18th.

I came up with a route that allowed me to do the 1,000 km.  Now it was a matter of seeing how long it was going to take for me to do it, what issues I might have, along with gather some up-to-date mileage (or kilometreage?) data.

The route I chose was, firstly, down to Albany, then across to Denmark and Walpole, then up to Bunbury through Manijimup and Bridgetown, and returning home from there.  Allegedly 958.7 km, with an estimated time of 12 hrs 10 minutes.  Could I do it?

Of course I could.  Just a matter of how long it would actually take!

I planned to leave at 6 AM.  Of course when the alarm went off at 5.30 AM I was fast asleep, despite having expected to wake before the alarm.  Underneath the covers was nice and warm, while the arm I stuck out to test the temperature found it to be a bit cold.  Maybe I could just go back to sleep and head off tomorrow instead...

After closing my eyes for 5 seconds and seriously contemplating the idea, fortitude arrived and I got up, showered and breakfasted.  I woke up properly about half way through breakfast.

Given the cold, I threw on an extra jumper - an old hoodie - really by chance.  Once I got outside, I was pleased I did.  The hood fits nicely under the helmet and keeps my remaining hair nice and warm.  All suited up, I went to switch the GPS on, only to find that I'd not installed it onto the bike last night, and it was still in the house.  Cursing, I had to find the keys (which of course had hidden themselves in the bottom of a pocket underneath everything else) go back inside, find where I'd left it, install it on the bike, find the power cable, fit it to the unit, get everything back on until, FINALLY, I was ready to go.

The bike fired up at the first touch of the starter and I rolled away from the from gate at 6.31 AM.  Only half an hour behind schedule.  Good start...

Despite the early hour, there was plenty of traffic and I seemed to catch just about every traffic light on the way to Armadale, where I'd swing off the suburban roads and on to the real beginning of the Albany Highway (from Victoria Park to Armadale, it's only the signs that indicate it is a highway).

At about this time, as the sun began to make its mark on the day, I was beginning to think that it was a bit foolish of me not to have taken into account the early morning temperatures, which although expected to be relatively low, were in fact rather cold.  The temperature gauge showed 6-7 degrees C and it certainly felt like it.  My head was warm, my torso was fairly good, feet were OK, but hands, arms and legs were cold.

As I headed south and the sun rose higher above the horizon, the situation did not improve very much at all.  Occasionally the temperature showed as 8 degrees, then 9 degrees, then back to 8, depending on the topography, shadow.  I also realised that I had forgotten to buy a Camelback - a water pack worn as a backpack, with a long hose to drink from - so I was thirsty.  A headache increased slowly but surely, a combination of thirst and (probably) eye strain from my stupid multi-focal glasses - a rant for another day.

I eventually stopped after two hours for a drink and to change over to sunglasses.  Drink was achieved successfully, however at the first instant, one of the lenses fell out of the sunglasses.  Fortunately they were an old pair, so no major problem, other than I didn't have any others to change over to.  There's a lesson right there for the longer trip!

I pressed on to my first refueling stop at Kojonup.  After paying for the fuel, I tried to enter the data into my preferred app for tracking fuel useage (www.fuelly.com).  My hands and body were shaking so much - shivering - that it was really difficult and I realised I was quite cold, despite my head being warm and thinking that my torso was fine too.  Obviously the cold blood from my limbs was having an effect on the rest of me.  I made a mental note to bring more clothing next time!

Shortly after I left Kojonup, I ran into the first major bug for the day.  It was a big, juicy one, presumably a bee, that hit my visor squarely between my eyes.  The smear was a considerable inconvenience, but not terrible enough to stop and clean it off.  Fortunately a short distance further, it commenced raining.  My earlier mental note now had waterproof pants added to it as the rain increased in intensity.  Fortunately the bug had not dried completely so the rain, combined with a 110 km/h wind, washed the spatter off and visibility was good again.  The rain also stopped after a few minutes and the sun came out.  The riding position on the Stelvio is quite protected, so as it turned out, those exposed legs didn't get wet at all.

On to Albany with only one additional brief rain shower and no further problems.  I found my turn-off to Denmark and Walpole and headed off in that direction.  I then managed to miss the turn to follow Highway 1, but shortly afterwards lucked on to a scenic route that parallels it for about 30km or so before joining back on to it.

Temperatures had risen to about 15 degrees on the coast, so I was feeling relatively warm, but the southerly wind had increased significantly in intensity, so I was buffeted quite strongly.  Throughout it all though, the Guzzi behaved very well - certainly no worse than other bikes I've owned in a cross-wind.

I decided that I'd make it to Walpole to refuel and this turned out to be correct distance-wise, but unfortunately discovered that they only have 91 RON unleaded fuel and not the minimum standard 95 RON (let alone 98 RON) available.  Bit of a nuisance, but nothing for it - in it went.  I also had a pit stop for a bathroom break and a bit of lunch.  A nice, hot, warming chai and a pie and sausage roll from a bakery.  All were quite good, although the tea was certainly the highlight.  The shaking appeared to have gone by this stage!

Rolling on to the north through Manjimup, Bridgetown, etc. through to Bunbury was relatively uneventful, apart from the magnificent stands of massive trees in the forest along the way.  I passed the Valley of the Giants tree-top walk and reminded myself never to bother going there again.  My other discovery was the 40 km/h speed limits through some of the towns, which made this segment quite a slow one.

I eventually got to Bunbury and needing fuel, started heading north out of town.  Not remembering how far it is to the next service, I paid a relatively exorbitant price at the Shell on the north side of town.  I then measured the distance to the next service (Puma Energy), which is a bit less than 30 km to the north and much cheaper, especially with the RAC discount.  Next time I will remember!

The road back to Perth and home flowed quite smoothly as one would expect.  I arrived home at 5.30 PM, after exactly 11 hours and 946 km completed.  The last part of the trip through Perth traffic was exceedingly slow and the seemingly interminable traffic lights made it feel like I was crawling.

Fuel consumption for the day averaged about 17.5 km/L, so with a tank capacity of 18 L, that should give me a range of 315 km.  Tolerable.

Lessons for the day;

• Must have a camelback to drink from during the day
• Must have waterproof / windproof pants
• Must respect low temperatures One more jumper might not be necessary all of the time, but when you need it, it will be appreciated.

The human on the bike certainly had a sore bum at various stages, but a bit of fidgeting sorted that out.  Most surprisingly my shoulders were quite sore at various times.  My back held up well.

I take from all this that yes, I can do the required 1,000 km in a day reasonably comfortably.  The Perth traffic on departure and arrival certainly slowed me down across the day, so in more isolate parts, I should be easily able to get an additional 50-100 km in.  I also stopped at 5.30 PM, so in reality, I could have ridden for another hour or so as well.  The only uncertainty now is whether I can do this for 14 continuous days.  I imagine that after a few days, I will be accustomed to it and it won't present any great problems.

Time will tell.

19 May 2020 - the bike

The choice of the bike to take for the hot lap was not as simple as it might seem - go to garage, get on bike, head off into the wilderness.  I am fortunate enough to have a choice of two that are completely suitable for the trip.  In the end, as I have indicated earlier, I've chosen to go with the Guzzi.  A 2010 model Stelvio 1200 4V.  And the reason is very simple - it has a very wide seat that is pretty comfortable and I'm of the opinion that I'll need that on the trip!  The KTM seat is narrower and while it has proved comfortable on previous long trips, I think the Guzzi has a slight edge.

The Guzzi also has slightly better fuel consumption despite its larger engine displacement, which won't hurt.  Mechanically, I'm more worried about the Guzzi failing in some remote location, but to date it hasn't given me any problems that weren't readily resolvable.  Let's keep fingers crossed that remains the case!

The Guzzi has sufficient space for the swag to be stowed on the rear passenger seat, plus the spacious top box should be fine for emergency tools, first aid kit, a bit of water and food, and some spare gear (waterproof pants etc.).  Then I'll have a bag for clothes on top of the swag.  Simples.  I'm not going to bother carrying spare fuel, despite some temptation, as there are plenty of fuel options at appropriate distances (< 300 km apart) along my preferred route.

11 May 2020 - the Route

Now that I've set the scene for what I'm planning to do, the next thing to decide is the route.  As I mentioned earlier, there's a defined route for "record" laps around Australia.  While there's absolutely no chance of me being able to set the fastest lap ever, I figure that if I can at least follow the official route as best as possible, my dodgy claim to the fastest lap on a Moto Guzzi might have some chance of being recognised by others and not just me.  Of course, that is if I choose to push my claim in any way that is within the public domain, which is by no means a certainty.

First thing required is the decision as to whether I'm going to do it in clockwise or anti-clockwise direction.  Naturally there are definitely pro's and cons for either direction, however popular opinion is the anti-clockwise is the best direction, largely due to the benefit of the prevailing winds being a tail wind while crossing the Nullarbor Plain.  As I understand the situation, it is by no means a certainty of strong headwinds travelling west across the Nullarbor, but having spoken to people who have done it on a bike, when there are headwinds, it is very hard work!

Starting in Perth, there is a distinct advantage to the clockwise direction, in that by the time I get to vicinity of Sydney or Melbourne, the bike will be due for a 10,000 km service.  Additionally, should I need repairs or new tyre/s or anything of that sort, then availability of Moto Guzzi specialist knowledge in those population centers will be much higher than it would if I were to go anti-clockwise.  In that case, I'd be due for a service somewhere around Darwin.  Not that I have anything against Darwin (other than it being bloody hot), but there aren't any official service centers for Guzzi's there, plus there would be an age to wait if I needed any specialized parts while in that part of the trip.  Of course I could have a service done in Brisbane before heading off to the north if I went counter-clockwise...  But then if the bike is to break down, then I fantasize that it is going to be in the first half of the trip...  There are too many things that I feel I should consider that will sway me to decide one particular way or the other, so in all likelihood, I'll probably just toss a coin.

And then go clockwise.

Despite the concern about the headwinds, the argument for being able to get the bike serviced in Sydney or Melbourne has me fairly convinced about clockwise.  I'd also prefer to deal with the heat of the top end while I'm fresher.  I'll also have a chance for a small rest, perhaps half a day on about day 10, when I'll be passing through Portland, where my parents live.  They have only recently moved there and it is more than 20 years since I passed through that part of the world, so a visit would be nice, however brief it might be.

As I mentioned earlier, I'll be aiming to follow Highway 1 for as much of the trip as possible.  A map  of it is shown following (hopefully without incurring the wrath of any lawyers acting on behalf of WickedWalkabout.com, who as an aside, have quite a good website!).

The only variation I'm currently planning on making is to avoid the first half of the east-west part between Darwin and Cairns due to it being largely dirt and seemingly unachievable distances (for me) between fuel stops.  Additionally, it appears to be across Aboriginal lands and due to the permit requirements for traveling through them interacting with the current coronavirus situation, it might be that travel is still restricted.  At this stage, it seems prudent to avoid those areas.  The bonus of the slightly southerly route is that I get to pass through Mt. Isa, which I've always wanted to visit.  Once I get to Cloncurry, I'll then swing north to Normanton (passing through the Burke & Wills Roadhouse!) and back onto Highway 1.

Sounds easy enough!

10 May 2020 - The end of the beginning?

Riding around Australia seems like a good idea - at this stage.  My plan is to do it in 2 weeks, which if I work it out, means I have to average just over 1,000 km per day.  Nice round numbers and no big deal.  Until I think about the last time I traveled 1,000 km in a day on the bike.  Which would be never.

Actually it is possible I did it once, when I rode from Santiago to the Iguazu Falls (4,500 km) and back in six days.  I have a memory of one very long day on the way back which may have cracked the 1,000.  But those were not overly punishing days, involved long and leisurely lunches and no great pressure.  And it was only a week.  And it still hurt (at times), despite the marvelous scenery.  And it still didn't average close to 1,000 km per day.  That trip did have the disadvantage of being stopped half a dozen times a day at road blocks for a chat and a check of my documents, which didn't help the average.

This will be different though, with Australia's famous wide open spaces and good quality roads, so I'm (currently) feeling confident.  There will be lots of new and interesting scenery to behold, as I've never been along the east coast north of Bega!  The only question will be whether I can maintain the pace.

Perhaps another obvious question is why it needs to be done in 2 weeks?  It's mostly because I work FIFO at the moment and have two weeks of rostered time off after my field stint, during which I don't have a huge amount to do.  I usually catch up with my kids for a bit, but they've got their own lives to lead and if I didn't insist, I'm not sure if they'd notice if I caught up with them or not!  There would also be some friends I'd miss out on seeing, but again, if I skipped a break there's every chance they wouldn't notice.  It is possible that at some stage my roster will revert to it's 'normal' 12 / 9 cycle, and nine days is certainly not going to be enough for the lap.  I therefore need to make the most of my time.

If I'm honest, it will also be an interesting thing to do as a celebration of the coronavirus lockdowns coming to an end - a celebratory ride around Australia to enjoy some liberty after being metaphorically locked up for the last few months, although to continue this honesty theme, the whole thing hasn't affected me very much.  Life has been pretty much normal, other than catching up with a few friends.

Perhaps the last question I should answer is what's so special, if anything, about setting a lap record of Australia on a Moto Guzzi?  Well, there are a couple of reasons, but I'm afraid that all of them are really quite simple.  Firstly, of the two motorbikes I'm fortunate enough to own, the Guzzi has the most comfortable seat.  It's a bit like a tractor seat and while it certainly could be softer, it's still pretty comfortable.  The alternative is my KTM and although I've done some long distance riding on it, and although it has a better luggage-carrying set-up, this trip is going to be a fairly frugal one and I don't expect to have many needs.  It will be me, my swag, a few spare cloths, some emergency provisions and that's about it.

The second reason for taking the Guzzi is that, as far as I can see, nobody has ever written about doing the lap on one.  Perhaps that should be a warning sign to me as, to be fair, Italian motorcycles have not traditionally been a byword for reliability.  It may be that plenty of people have done it, but no-one has thought to publicize it in any way.  Be that as it may, I'm going to claim the national record, and others can challenge me for it.  Hopefully at the very least, I can prompt a fun conversation about the whole thing, and see where it goes.  Even if nobody cares, I'll have had fun.  And let's face it, if some WA wheatbelt farmer can declare his farm is an independent province and call himself a prince AND get away with it, inventing a new record category for a lap of Australia is rather harmless in comparison.

It should also be fun, highly memorable, and will be easier to do know than in 10 years time when my knees and back will hurt more...