Day 25 - Normanton to Karumba

After a fitfull sleep through a mild night punctuated by the chorus of a hundred dogs, and the occasional strains of party music, the boys saddled up for the last time.

We ambled out of Normanton, pausing for a couple of photos of the team in lycra out the front of the Purple Pub and in/on/beside an enormous crocodile ... okay, a crocodile sculpture.

Spirits were high as we rapidly ate up the first 30 km over smooth bitumen. The troopie caught up with us as we turned west for the last 40 km to Karumba, our destination on the Gulf of Carpentaria. We swapped more grateful thanks for dried fruit and water and saddled up for the real downhill stretch.

We say "downhill", simply because we have this perception, probably mistaken, that the road mirages over the last 20 odd days have been leading us steadily uphill. This perception has been very strong on headwind days. If all this is true, we were expecting a descent of about 3,000 metres back down to sea level!

Well, there was no such descent. Instead the countryside flattened out completely and gradually the trees and shrubs, that have been our roadside companions and harbored all that wonderful birdlife for the past few days, gave way to boggy and swampy fields and our first taste of salt air for 30 days. It dawned on us how tough it must have been for Burke and Wills on their final push towards the Gulf. The land is cleared of the mangroves now, but it would still be a real cross country challenge away from the road.

Our iPods provided the usual variety of soundtracks to this, our last day on the bikes. We rode four abreast into the outskirts of Karumba shortly before 11am with Alan, Julie and the troopie waving to us on the video. With a few sighs, woops, high 5s and congratulations various, we continued on the final 5 km to Karumba Point and our first glimpse of the sea for 29 days.

To think, that four Sunday mornings ago, on 18 April 2011, we had paused with our rear tyres sitting in the Spencer Gulf at Port Augusta ...

What a journey it has been.

A flood of thoughts, memories and emotions flashed through all our minds as we do the best we can to imprint them on this trip of a lifetime.

A few final photo opportunities were gratefully taken, first behind the 'Warning Crocodiles' sign above the beach, and then, a little more boldly, on the beach and with our tyres nudging the waters of the Gulf of Carpentaria. Nerves were taught, and a small splash behind us (probably a tiny fish) caused Dom to yelp, and the rest of to head rapidly back up the beach to the safety of the local pub.

Alan returned with a fine bottle of Aussie sparkling, and while we toasted each other and this fabulous trip, another bottle appeared courtesy of some friendly and chatty grey nomads.

With lunch around the corner and Julie clamouring for the fresh prawns Karumba is famous for, the lads set up our final camp at the Sunset Park, had a swim and cleaned up. With prawns washed down by lemon squash (honestly), the boys cleaned and oiled their bikes for the last time. Pete and Dom set off for further reconnaissance of Karumba Point (ie, they went to the pub). Ric and AP did some reading and emailing before the whole gang met up at the Sunset Tavern for a delightful celebration dinner. With Barramundi, prawns, oysters, steaks, salads and chips washed down by beer, wine and nightcaps of scotch and Drambuie, the night was a fitting culmination to a great trip.

Day 24 - Bang Bang to Normanton

For our last bush camp, the ashes from the previous night's fire were hot enough to rekindle for our breakfast - shame it was muesli again! Nevertheless, another day started at 6:00 am with the sounds of zips on the tents and swags together with the billy being boiled by Alan for the morning coffee.

With a 110km day in front of us, we were prepared for some tough hours of riding into Normanton. The variable wind forecast had us cautious, with the expectation of headwinds for part of the day.

The cyclists have got into the groove of riding for 10km, and then taking a break to stretch the legs, have a drink or snack and generally shoot the breeze. For some parts of the day we ride together, and other parts we spread out over 500 metres or so depending on who is feeling stronger at any one time. When the head winds picked up later in the day we again rode peleton style, so that only one rider takes the brunt of the wind. This makes it easier for the other three, and we then switch over every couple of kms.

The landscape changed again through the day, from flat plains with one metre high grass, to scrubland and delightful rivers with substantial bird life.

We have never seen so many Wedge Tail Eagles - just majestic. And we have also been captivated by the Brolgas. These birds are like over-sized Flamingos with huge wing spans. They seem to travel in pairs or fours, and they really like the long grass near the roads. As we rode past they would take flight.

Julie made some great curried egg sandwiches for lunch that we demolished in Normanton. The caravan park had a great spa which the team relaxed in for 30 minutes, until the discussion of "was this layer of scum on the water here before we were?"

We did a pub crawl starting at the Central Hotel, and then the Albion, finishing at the Purple Pub. Alan had checked them out earlier in the day, and we went from worst to best. The Central Hotel was essentially a large room with a barrier between the punters and the rather tough looking bar staff.

Dinner was good fun at the Purple Pub, with most of the team opting for steak and prawns.

It has been a day of little celebrations, as it was our last "significant" day of riding with only 70 km to ride tomorrow.

We went to bed with expectations of completing our epic sometime before lunch tomorrow.

Day 23 - Burke & Wills Roadhouse to Bang Bang

No need to set alarms on this day. The peaceful sounds of sunrise were shattered at 5am by the symphony of sixteen 600 horsepower Kenworth road trains each starting up and clearing their pipes of dust and diesel sediments. Nonetheless, Ric did his dutiful morning rounds, "AP, 6am rise and shine city boy". Greeting each of the others in a similar fashion, his tone lacked the customary undercurrent of excitement and anticipation around the day ahead.

With the coveted maillot noir et bleu (black & blue jersey), for most stacks, safely in Ric's keeping, and the race for most punctures looking safe with Puncture Pete, the day before the penultimate stage was not expected to be a remarkable one.

As the crew bade farewell to the roadhouse, and rolled out: direction Normanton, 90km up the road at Bang-Bang awaited the last bush camp and camp oven bread, providing much needed incentive to get the weary legs moving.

The highlight of the day was the amazing landscape littered with thousands of ant hills measuring 60cm high. These vast grassy plains, more like one of those microscope images from high school biology, have to be seen to believed.

The peleton cruised into Bang-Bang around 12:30, happy to call it a day. Lunch was taken, then onto the usual camp routine of pitching tents, setting camp kitchen, camp fire, and bush showers.

Less than 200km to go with the epic journey drawing to a close, the camp mood is a little more subdued than normal.

Day 22 - Leichhardt River to the Burke & Wills Roadhouse

Just as Pete was signing off from yesterday's blog and heading off for a swim (Dom lives by the way, no need to call the insurers ... yet), Ric took himself off for his insanely customary 6-8 km run after 100 km in the saddle.

Ric headed down one of the tracks along the river, and managed to cross it in ankle deep water about a kilometer from where we had camped. He continued running along the far bank, saw a small shack, then a sealed track, followed it and (re) discovered the mythical Kajabbi, and the Kalkadoon Hotel. Sadly the pub was shut, and looks like it has been for a while. With a couple of locals cruising by with guns as the sun went down, Ric decided not to explore much more and headed back to the river bank across from the main camp. Hailing the team with the good news (ie, we could cycle 120 km not 140 km tomorrow), Ric paddled and waded back.

After another cool night by this lovely river, we saddled up again to follow the newly discovered route to Kajabbi and beyond. The track across the rock strewn riverbank was tough going - too tough going for Ric - who came off twice left and right in the space of 5 metres!

We toured Kajabbi for 30 seconds, stopped to take a photo at the pub and read about the local warriors who forlornly stood fast against the white settlers in the 1800s. After one false trail heading out of town to the WWII era airstrip, we struck the right route and knuckled down to a 40 odd km stretch on dirt.

The first 10 km rolled past uneventfully, but then the going got tougher as we hit unsealed track torn up by cattle hoofs in the recent wet. Ric managed two more spills in the morning taking his total to 9 stacks for the trip - surely an unassailable lead? With morale flagging on the dirt stretch, we had one more challenge to overcome with the final 7 km into a blustery headwind.

As we hit the highway again, we were pleased to see Julie, Alan and the troopie again. After a quick pitstop of dried fruits and snakes, we turned north again and enjoyed the sealed road and a tailwind.

We had paused by the side of the road on one of our 10 km stretch breaks when Dom inadvertently flagged down two obnoxious tradies. Apart from giving us some "encouragement" they gleefully let us know the troopie had pulled off the road up ahead with some mechanical problem.

We arrived on the scene about 10 minutes later to see that the trailer had thrown it's right wheel. Alan had noticed smoke and the wheel wobbling just before real disaster struck, and pulled to the side of the road just in time. Alan's practical mechanical skills in rebuilding the Model T (and heaps of other things) meant that he had the bearings off in another few minutes. Alan and the troopie then departed back to Cloncurry in search of the critical spares. Julie of the Desert was content to remain behind with the trailer, and 83 crosswords, so the boys cycled on the remaining 50 odd km to the roadhouse.

We arrived just after 3 pm - another long day for us, and treated ourselves to a couple of plates of hot chips and some cold beer. AP recorded a dissenting vote, enjoying a salad roll and a fruit juice after washing the dust away with a single beer.

Alan, Julie and the troopie arrived just on 5pm and the world resumed its normalcy, well, at least for us.

Some of the boys switched tyres back to our road combination, and then enjoyed a typical roadhouse meal - burgers with the lot. And then, once more, it was early to bed.

Day 21 - Cloncurry to the Leichhardt River

What a cold start to the day! All the sleeping bags, jeans and jumpers were in use up until the last moment before the cycling gear was donned. The road trains (53 metres long with 4 full trailers) were still cruising through Cloncurry as we made our way to the local bakery for another one of the best coffees of the trip.

The riders loved the southerly wind that made the first 50km of the morning more like a Sunday ride. The landscape of the Gulf country is flatter than around Mt Isa with small yellow tufts of grass and loads of 1 meter high red ant nests.

We saw three Wedge Tail Eagles up close, and they must have had a wing span of over 2 metres.

40 km into the day we rolled pass Quamby, which was essentially one hotel. We were going to stop there for a break but it did not open until 10am so we continued on. Quamby has a rodeo each year - it seems that each small town aligns themselves with a yearly event. Boulia and the camel races, Birdsville and their races, and other towns with horse dressage or stockman competitions.

With 77 km completed of our 100km day we all thought we were in good shape to be having a beer at the Kajabbi pub by 1:00pm. All we needed was to change our tyres from road back to dirt for the last 26km of the day, when it all went pear-shaped for Pete's front wheel.

2 punctures and three failed tube patches, takes Pete to the leader board for punctures and the recipient of puncture jokes for the next week. This all happened before "Puncture Pete" even got on the bike!

It was relief when we finally got the wheel sorted out and headed off for a relatively tough 24km on dirt which took us to a lovely river called the Leichhardt. We have been unable to find the road across the river as we think that it has been totally washed away. We contemplated swimming across with our bikes, but that leaves significant risk with the cyclists and/or the troopie being stranded.

Today's cycling turned out to be significantly tougher than we first thought, and we stopped at about 3.00 in the afternoon after starting off at 7:15am. There goes our beer at the Kajabbi pub! We were all amazed that there was no information on the road that it was impassable (and looks to have been impassable for quite a long time).

We have now set up camp on the banks of the river, we can see small fish swimming, there are calls to go for a swim (which I will be doing in the next 5 minutes). The river is about 100 metres wide with large river rocks along a river bed that extends another 50 metres from each edge of the river.

There has been discussion of whether there are crocodiles this far south, so we have decided to send Dom in first as the test case. We'll let you know tomorrow how he went.

We are all grateful to be out of the "fly" areas, as we all looked like a bee keepers' convention with fly nets over our heads.

We are in the last week of our adventure now, with only 4 more days of cycling to reach Karumba on the northern coast of Australia.

Tomorrow will now turn into our longest distance riding as we have to back track back to the main road - so the day will be 140 km including 24km of rough dirt track.

The team has loved the kind feedback from people reading the blog, so thank you for taking an interest in our journey.

Day 20 - Mount Isa to Cloncurry

There was a real chill in the air overnight, so the boys were keen to get underway for the 110km planned for the day. The warnings we had been given about traffic, and particularly road trains, proved to be prescient.

Our route basically took us due East, quite a change from our generally northerly heading of the past three weeks. Unfortunately, we spent much of the morning pushing into a pretty steady headwind.

With road trains zooming by us at pretty regular intervals, the cautious approach was for all four of us to get right off the road. This had been relatively easy along the Birdsville Track and other unsealed sections, as these monster rigs were easy to see and hear in the dust storm they created. On the Mt Isa to Cloncurry Highway though, we had plenty of twists and turns to negotiate, and a couple of times the road trains managed to sneak by the eagle eyes of our Tail End Charlie causing some undue excitement for us all.

Unfortunately, the headwinds and traffic on this stretch detracted from some lovely rolling countryside, punctuated with some spectacular rock outcrops, covered with thick scrub, shrubs and plenty of trees.

We rolled into Cloncurry in the early afternoon and headed straight for the bakery on the recommendation of the lass that cut Ric's hair in Mt Isa. We enjoyed the odd sausage roll and sticky bun, and discovered the best coffee we had enjoyed since leaving Sydney. Pete - a notoriously tough coffee connoisseur - awarded the bakery 9 out of 10!

After a quick clean up at the designated campsite, we headed along to the Royal Flying Doctor museum/John Flynn art gallery. The museum does a terrific job in recreating/telling the story of the establishment of the RFDS over the last 100 years. There are models, replicas, plenty of photos and lots of stories about the doctors, nurses and pilots and the people they served. It's well worth a visit and a bargain at $10.00.

Ric took himself off for another run while Pete and Dom checked out the local pubs. We dined on some terrific spaghetti bolognese, and hit the hay nice and early.

Mt Isa - Rest Day

It was a welcome rest day to recharge from the cumulative tiredness after ~ 20 days on the bike.  It was late morning before we were up and ready to mix with the locals from Mt Isa, or do some domestic chores.

After his customary run, Ric was looking a bit shaggy, so found the barber for the military #1 cut. Andrew, Ric and Dom then ventured downtown in search of the ultimate coffee, while Pete - the ever thoughtful son - took Julie Mother's Day shopping.  Pete had success, but coffee rated 6 out of 10.

Dom and Alan ventured off for the afternoon Mt Isa underground mine tour. It was an excellent three hours providing a terrific insight to underground mining. Looking fashionable in our orange overalls, and equipped with head torches we descended down the shaft and travelled by underground rail to explore aspects of underground mining.  We walked around inspecting the drilling, blasting, tunnel securing activities, and talked through the different mining equipment.  The equipment is bullet proof and weighs an absolute tonne...a strong man's job. While modern equipment has made life easier, Alan & Dom are happy to stay with their day jobs.

Late afternoon we were treated to a display of whip cracking.  Andrew had purchased a stockman's whip, and we were universally atrocious at getting it to 'crack'.  Over walks our camping neighbour (on route to his next mustering gig) and treats us to a lesson.  The show included whipping a gum leaf out of Andrew's hand.....made it look too easy.

The rest day may also have gone a little to our heads, so we posed for a very special photo ...

A bed time brew, avoiding talking about the next day's 120km to Cloncurry. A due east ride and praying for a westerly.

Our thanks to Sandra for her contribution to the Inspire charity. Personally, she knew of numerous youth suicides in Mt Isa, which brought to light one of the many challenges in living in these more remote areas of Australia.