Steven Raucher's World Tour
2002-02-25 in Alice Springs, Australia
Be Careful What You Wish For
I did end my last story rather wistfully longing for adventure, and guess what? I got it. But was it the adventure that I was looking for? No, it was something far worse�
It all began on a sunny Wednesday last week, when I left Adelaide in dire need of some countryside and some beautiful scenery. After surviving some amazingly strong winds along the coast of South Australia, I turned right and headed north towards to the Oodnadatta Track and beyond. My first stop on the road was for a bottle of water after 80 kms for my supply had already become tepid. I met an elderly gent who recommended I stop in Quorn on my way north, and how lucky I was to have listened to him. In the campsite in Quorn (population 480) I met a lovely Israeli couple, Roy and Alona, who happened to be heading up the track in their 4x4. We decided to travel together - they get to carry my water and I am to be of assistance if they have any mechanical hiccups � this goes as far as me fetching help, as those of you who know me will attest that I am much more adept at arranging things than I am at understanding the machinations of anything more than a pogo stick.
So off we go, taking a detour through the Flinders Ranges and taking the scenic route around Wilpena Pound, which is a giant geological formation, ie hill, that looks great if you hike to the top or take a scenic flight � what are the chances? So I have some very un-impressing photos of the sides of this hill which give no clues to the actual formation. That night we camped in what must be the worst camp site in Australia, in a town called Leigh Creek. Words fail me here just describing it, just avoid it like the plague if you are ever in the neighbourhood.
The next day the adventure begins and we hit the dirt. The dirt road from Leigh Creek to Marree (Marree is the official start of the track) feels more like tarmac than dirt and of course this presents no problem for me. In Marree we learn that although we are in both the driest and hottest parts of Australia, the northern sections of the track of closed due to torrential downpour and our only viable option is to head halfway up the track and then turn off for Coober Peddy, a nutty mining town, but more on that later. The halfway point to this new route is a town called William Creek (population 8). This is one of those places that typify any stereotype associated with the outback. At 6 pm the whole town was in the pub, babies and all. It had been a good day, except for the really bad stretch of road on the first half of this leg which is sprinkled with �bulldust�. Before you wonder what this is let me explain: Bulldust is very fine gravel that looks like regular dirt but behaves like soft sand and is impossible to spot until you find yourself strangling your handlebars, dragging your feet and shouting choice expletives at any roadkill that will listen, in short it is very unpleasant.
The next morning I wake to the light patter of rain drops on my tent. Not a good start since I still have another 200 kms to do on a dirt road and flashbacks of the mud in Cambodia come rushing up to haunt me. I raise the others, throw my tent and all my gear in their 4x4 and begin racing against the rain. It was only when I was on the last 80 kms of the road that I started having trouble with the slippery conditions, but through a combination of luck and foolhardiness I hit the throttle and managed to keep the bars straight.
We arrived in a Coober Peddy a bit worse for wear and spent the day in true backpacker style eating pizza and watching videos. The rain did not let up the whole day and kept going the following day when I decided to shoot off ahead of the rather sluggish 4x4. And this, my friends, is indeed where the adventure starts.
Cruising at 140 kms an hour about 150 kms north of Coober Pedy and 600 kms south of Alice Springs my bike starts shaking violently and I pull over with the mother of all adrenaline rushes. The smell of burning clutch is unmistakeable. (The very clutch which I just had replaced in Melbourne) I get off the bike, roll a cigarette, enjoy the rain for about 15 seconds and then begin to try waving cars down for help. After receiving many benevolent returned waves (they are a very friendly bunch out here) someone finally twigs that I am signalling for help and pulls over. The gent tells me that I have just gone past the nearest help about 8 kms back and not to worry he will send them over to collect me. Another half an hour (in the rain) goes by and I manage to pull over another motorist and he promises to put in the call to the same roadhouse, yet another half an hour goes by and my buddies, Roy and Alona pull up. I send them back to the roadhouse and finally half and hour later someone comes out to get me.
Successfully towed back to the roadhouse I quickly assess my situation. In the middle of nowehere and needing a ride north I begin to count myself lucky that the roadhouse is full of road train drivers (�truckies�) and also has accommodation. My plan suddenly takes shape, I begin to harangue every driver I see and beg for ride for me and my bike, this goes on until 4am when I give up for the night and decide to try my luck the next day � as if I had a choice! Sunday was my lucky day, the first vehicle to pull into the roadhouse that I see is a pickup truck (�yute�) with a young guy named John who lives on a cattle station north of Alice. After some mild persuasion and the offer of the ever-ready Dollar he accepts and we spend the next 4 hours discussing the merits of castrating one�s bulls early and the ins and outs of branding cattle. My enthusiasm for these subjects must have made a dent in his resolve and by the time we arrived in Alice, he both dropped my bike off at the local dealer and dropped me off at a hotel and refused to take my money � gee, I sure lurrrve the country!
I reciprocated the only way they know how out here. Straight to the �Saloon� (complete with swinging doors and John Wayne posters) and bought the rounds.
So next time you go looking for adventure, remember that there better ways to arrive in town than on the back of a pickup truck, you don�t get as much wind in your hair!
 The stunning sky of the outback alongside the Karma Tourer |
 the flinders ranges, as seen from the side |
 the beginning of the Oodnadatta Track, with Alona's 4x4 and my bike in the background |
 on the track in the middle of nowhere |
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