Monthly Archives: August 2016

Australia Pt. 10 – Chocolates

Life was totally hunky-dory. Camping was better than ever and I was free again. Out of the mud (read about that here) that after a full week finally had let me go of its grip. The roads were more or less all dried up and the previously slow track now looked more like a highway that someone simply had forgotten to pave.

Easy breeezy!

On paper, at least. In practice – I was drained.

Drained as in that the only 2 photos I have from the last couple of days along the should be relaxed Oodnadatta Track is the one above, and the one below this sentence.

Low on everything from food to moral I finally rolled into the settlement of Marree and what had been my final outback destination ever since entering my first Aussie dirt track a couple of months earlier. Usually I reach these finish lines with a mix of celebratory joy, and an odd sensation of sadness to put another leg behind me. This time though, all I could feel was relief.

‘Done. Good job, girl. Now, where can one find chocolate over here?’

With heavy legs I parked my muddy ride against the rugged roadhouse that was obviously the social hub of town, and stepped inside. Only to have my hunt for a good old Snickers bar take an equally quick and unexpected turn. 10 minutes after later, I didn’t only exit with chocolate between my teet. I did so with a… job?

What the..?

Just now I’m simply too lazy to jot down what actually happened inside the Oasis roadhouse that afternoon. So for now, let’s just settle with repeating another one of those old clichés (we all know they’re true anyways).

Indeed, we should expect the unexpected.

Because you just never know which chocolate bar will be the one. The one getting you a weekend gig at what could be the most peculiar camel race the world has ever seen.

And those tired legs? Yes. I definitely forgot all about them.

Until next time,

Fredrika

By |August 29th, 2016|Oceania, Travel Logs|

Australia Pt. 9 – Mud, Mud & Madness

If one’s looking for time consuming activities, making detours on a bicycle is a great idea. Making detours on a bicycle in Australia, is a genius one. After reaching Alice Springs and the halfway point of my quest to cross the country north to south I had taken a right, headed straight west. Making the so called Meerine Loop, taking me past Uluru (Ayers Rock), along with a few more of the continent’s most important landmarks.

In the end this side trip added up to 800 extra kilometers. 800 great ones. Anyone who’s read the previous couple of posts of this blog know that. As we just settled though, making detours on a bicycle takes time. And this particular one had surely put a strain on the remaining time on my visa. Though things still were totally alright, the margin of error I’d found comfort in up until then was now long gone.

I still had time enough to complete the route I’d set out to do, but not much more than that. Tasmania got scratched off the map. So did plans for proper breaks. Along with any single days of rest to speak of. And getting sick? Don’t be silly.

Time was border lining between being just, and not enough.

Then came the rain.

Let’s make a long story short with this one.

I’d just made it back onto my actual route and was back on yet another outback dirt trail, winding it’s way south. From the tiny aboriginal community Finke, I was about to ride south along the outskirts of the equally big and dry Simpson Desert. We’re talking very dry. Dry as in that the region has an average annual rainfall just above 100 mm.

…which this particular weekend fell during a period of 48 hours.

QUÈ?!?

Rain in itself doesn’t bother me much. On mud roads however, it rules your life.

Considering alternative outcomes, I was in great luck. Thanks to a perfectly timed snap of a cable – I happened to be held up in Finke just as the rain rolled in. And instead of being flooded in my tent somewhere along the road, I got to spend those couple of days with a roof over my head (thanks again, guys!), making friends with the always so hilarious village kids and their ‘pet’ pigs.

Great times, but fact remained – I was in a total rush. Time kept moving forward without mercy while and I was dead still. Until that morning when the local police finally decided to let me hit their closed road, a couple of days before any other traffic.

‘Alright then. Give it a go, we won’t stop you. Get ready though – ’cause the road probably will.’

One deep breath and an awkward smile later, I tied my shoes and swung one leg over the frame. Doubting, but definitely hoping that the 400 km between me and the next settlement somehow would turn out do be doable.


First impression: a little rough.


Second impression: a lot of rough.


Third impression: …

So, what happened? Instead of going on too much about it, I figured I’ll just show you some of what the muddiest week of my life looked like. Putting every hour of daylight into moving forward, I was still struggling to log more than 50-60 km a day. Trying to stay on track for my visa quickly lost priority though, and once again food and water set my time limit.

I don’t have that many photos from it, and the ones I do have are taken whenever my hands were clean and dry enough to want to touch my barbag. Anyways, I think you’ll get the gist of it.

Here we go.

Keywords: Mud. Flooded creeks. More mud. The odd combination of lactic acid and patience. Mud again. And above all else – beauty.

There was quite a price to pay for it, but fact is that rain equals life. And I was lucky enough to see this normally arid, dead landscape greener than it’d allegedly been in 30 years. 30 years! Ankle deep in mud, sure. But desert flowers springing straight out of the road?

Always, always worth it.

When life gives you lemons… :)

Fredrika

By |August 24th, 2016|Oceania, Travel Logs|

Australia Pt. 8 – Rocks & Magic

It’s been a while, again.

And anyone who’s been following this journey for some time knows my pattern by now. When things are great, I tell you all about it. When things are too great to even cope, I disappear into the experience and go dead silent. Just like I did halfway through Australia. Writing this I’m not even still in the country, but luckily for this blog, I’m not ready to let go just yet.

There are lots to tell, and little by little I’ll let you in on what really happened during those last weeks in the outback. Physically some of the tougher ones I’ve had on this entire adventure, spiritually some of the better ones of my life. For the sake of chronology though, let’s start off where we left things last.

Deep in the Red Centre, right by the spiritual heart of Australia.

At Uluru.

Central Australia is ranging from being very, to ridiculously empty. Drawing nearer to this mythical rock though, vast numbers of people are rapidly making a quick reentrance in ones life. Like from this magnetic pull, hordes of caravans, camper-vans, tour buses (and the odd cyclist) are all pilgriming mid desert to get a glimpse of this glowing piece of mystery.

Parking my bike at the entrance of the national park, I spent a couple of slow days hitching my way back and fourth between the natural wonders of Uluru and Kata-Tjuta.


Laughing the days away with some people…


…and trying to figure out what’s going on in the minds of some others…

And of course, simply let nature take my breath away.

Never in my life, would I have guessed that this place could even get close to living up the the insane hype around it. And in a way I guess it didn’t. This was something different.

I’m not sure how to put it into words. But Uluru isn’t merely another ‘Must See’. In fact I don’t think it’s a must see at all. This place is a Must Feel. Many of you reading this has been there, and I’m absolutely convinced that you know what I’m taking about.

The rest of you, simply have to go and find out. Go, and feel an Uluru sunset for yourself.

This is gold.

Until next time,

Fredrika

By |August 11th, 2016|Oceania, Travel Logs|