Desert.
The word really has a different meaning to me now than before I’d physically been in a few ones myself. Raised in the forests of Sweden, my few references to these exotic, barren lands have all more or less resembled what one picks up from Disney’s Aladdin as kid. A never-ending beach without sea.
Tanami is green. It has a wet season and gets flooded each and every year. Resulting in a flora that definitely wasn’t part of my former cartoonish idea of these places. Green or not though, Tanami does provide it’s visitors with more than enough sand for everyone to share.
As some sadist compensation for the lack of dunes, the track you enter is a total sand pit.
I usually enjoy sharing a tale or two in posts like this. Let you in on a few of those more or less absurd events that take place in the life on two wheels. And though there are some quite peculiar ones from this ride as well, they were so far from the main ingredients of this ride.
More than anytime before, the one big thing has been the total absence of big (or small for that matter) things. With food setting the limit, I only had that much time to make my way through the 1100 km desert stretch. And reaching the daily distance did consume quite a bit of time, not to mention energy.
While I did meet the occasional trail angel and nutjob, had some quite memorable times in the couple of aboriginal communities along the way, and just about avoided running over a snake or two. I mostly just cycled.
Cycled. And Cycled. Pushed my way though the sandiest patches. And then cycled some more.
And there really wasn’t much more to it.
In a day there was (terribly slow) riding.
There was food.
At times there was a bit more sand and flies than one might prefer.
And then – there was the best part of the day.
Not too exciting, huh?
The funny thing is though, there are few things I enjoy nearly as much as this. Solitude is incredibly underrated. And considering that all those retreats people go to are so sought after, I seem not to be the only one thinking so. People ask me why I’m doing this, and I can’t describe it in any other way than that this is my dusty version of a couple weeks of silent yoga on Bali.
Plodding along a sandy desert track with a ridiculously heavy bicycle isn’t necessarily easy. But it sure is simple. The magic in that slow but constant movement is difficult to pinpoint to someone who’ve never experienced it. And I think those who have, really don’t need an explanation.
When thirsty you drink, and when hungry you eat. When tired you sleep, and wake up when your body thinks it’s time to continue. When letting our basic human needs rule your life, the importance of all those other things we’re caught up in fade a little more for each day passing.
There is gold in spending two full days with your one mission in life being to reach that next bore water tank.
Don’t worry. The odd taste is all from the pixie dust sprinkled in the water
I’m not sure how to wrap my head around it. How while I love all things new – be it seeing places, learning whatever or sharing moments with others. I thrive out here. When being nowhere. Doing nothing (oh well..). Meeting no one.
I don’t get it.
But hey. Who cares about understanding everything all the time? I don’t need to know how this works. I’m just happy it does. And I’m quite sure it does for a few of you guys as well.
Tailwinds,
Fredrika