Posts Tagged ‘Cycling’


There are mountains. There are lakes. There are climbs and descents. And there are lovely mountain landscapes. Well, rolling hill landscapes. I put in 9 hours today to put me one long day from the skiing village of Thredbo.

My lovely camping spot

My lovely camping spot

I started with following the Hume Dam – firstly on the road until I realised that the bike track in view of the road was actually flatter (being an old train line). The climbing started in earnest after about 65km, and from then it’s been up and down.

The Hume Dam

The Hume Dam

The flatter bike path

The flatter bike path

The bike path fizzled out

The bike path fizzled out

Today I passed 1000km from Adelaide. It sounds like nothing after my 41000km from Eindhoven – still, that trip also started at zero.

1000km

1000km

The rolling hills view

The rolling hills view

It is 100km to Thredbo and over 3000m of climbing (!). Tomorrow will be fantastic weather, and then the heavy rain will set in. I really want to make it to Thredbo to weather out the storm. I’ll give it my best shot.


Today I saw some small hills. They were in front of me and around me in the last kilometres before Albury. Music pumping in my ears, I realised I am, once again, on the road. I laugh. In front of me are the Snowy Mountains!

Lunch on the Murray

Lunch on the Murray

It’s taken 6 days to have those cobwebs brushed away. This is not a weekend expedition – I’m on the road. Tomorrow I’ll be climbing into the Snowy Mountains – Australia’s highest mountains, to near the source of the Murray – Australia’s longest river.

It is the music. This music always does it to me. Infected Mushrooms – I feel the blood pumping through my body, and I feel alive. Today the music made me laugh because I can see the end of the plains. It made me laugh to think of the cooler weather in the mountains, and the beautiful alpine landscape.

But, today was a day of the river. I followed the Murray River, alternating between roads in Victoria and in New South Wales. I swam in the river in the morning, and at lunch, and remained in its green belt – the green belt of life the water gives to the land.


‘You’re from Adelaide. Lot of left-wing greeny tree-huggers there. Wanting water from the Murray River for “the environment”. Lot of bullshit. And it’s a good thing that Donald Trump is in. He’ll shake things up.’
I was amazed. The first Australian Trump supporter. I kept my mouth shut and laid low.

Murray River

Murray River

And then there was the guy that stopped in the middle of nowhere, got out, and gave me stuff – whatever he had was mine to take. A cake. Water. Chips. He was wearing a cycle t-shirt. He worked at the Murray River environment management. Cool guy. He wasn’t a Trump supporter.

Today was hot as hell. I left late and hung out in supermarkets – in Deniliquin and in Finley. It’s cool there. In Finley they even had a ‘cool area’ for the beer – and for hot cyclists. They didn’t sell individual ice-creams, so I was forced to buy 4 Golden Gaytimes. Such suffering.

Four Golden Gaytimes

Four Golden Gaytimes

It was hot, but was threatening to rain for a lot of the day. It didn’t rain more than a sprinkle, but it was windy and dusty. I thought it was time to return to more civilisation – rather than great distances across flat, dry plains – so I headed south to the mighty Murray River. There are camping spots all along the river, and the idea of going for a swim was very appealing. So, here I am, camping on the banks of Australia’s longest river, and on the border between Victoria and New South Wales. My tent is situated on the sand just next to the river, with all eucalyptus trees around. The cockatoos screech and fly overhead, and the cicadas purr in the background. It is a beautiful place.

Murray River

Murray River


It’s warming up – the weather and the people. Meetings with farmers – at the start and the end of the day, and a meeting with a Belgian backpacker couple. Drinks were shouted by everyone. The land is getting flatter, and bleeker. Today was a cycle through a plain with just dry grass as far as the eye can see. Beautiful.

Endless plains

Endless plains

I was escorted with kangaroos this morning, hopping along next to the road, travelling at my speed through the grass. Lots of rotting carcasses were on the road – you can smell them from a long way off – in different states of decay. First the scenery was similar to yesterday – mallee scrub and the odd wheat field. Also, there were some lakes with lots of birds. After lunch at Moulamein the trees stopped, and it was a ride under the stark sun on and on across the plains of dry grass.

Moulamein pub

Moulamein pub

Ready to leave into the heat after lunch, a Belgian couple invited me for a drink. Then, 16km from Deniliquin, at the first sign of life since lunch, I was called in for more drinks by a lovely group of farm workers, and then invited by the new owners for a lovely shower and a free camping spot. So, here I find myself, camping on the lawn behind the Pretty Pine Hotel.

Belgian couple

Belgian couple

Friend at Pretty Pine

Friend at Pretty Pine


The days are heating up, and my initial burst of speed has returned to a sustainable rhythm. Today the earphones were off, and I drank in the landscape – a very familiar one. I am now in New South Wales, and all set to veer off the main drag to Sydney.

Wheat

Wheat

This countryside is so different to lush Europe where I’ve spent the last half of my life. The sun, blasting from above, creates this parched landscape. You can feel your skin shrivelling up and burning when the sun is overhead like nowhere else I have cycled. Only the spindly mallee trees with their tufts of grey-green on their tops provide a bit of shade. Behind the trees that line the road where before was more mallee scrub, there are vast fields of wheat. I remember that this is the fertile corner of the nation, and there is water – rain water, artesian, and from the Murray River.

Wheat

Wheat

Mallee

Mallee

This dry, crusty landscape feels so familiar, and makes me smile inside. This is the landscape that I grew up in, and it feels like home. The flocks of pink and grey breasted galahs that launch from the road as I pass, and that call from overhead. The magpies that swoop, and the crows that screech.

In the mid-afternoon I crashed – just over the New South Wales border. Like in Uzbekistan, I decided it was time for an afternoon snooze to pass the hottest part of the day.

Afternoon snooze

Afternoon snooze

New South Wales

New South Wales

I decided to stop early and relax, so I find myself in the last piece of civilisation for 50km – in the little pub at Kyalite.

Kyalite

Kyalite


Cycling along the long road through the endless mallee, I realised I needed an early night, and I needed a bit of company. Cycling was long and straight and uneventful, and then eating to replenish the calories. I swung in to the caravan park in Ouyen, ate a kilogram of yoghurt, a mountain of spaghetti, spoke to some girls walking 500km for charity, and spoke in hindi/urdu to two Pakistani guys.

The mallee

The mallee

Clement and I raided the quarantine bin in Marla when we entered South Australia – a right feast of fresh fruit and vegetables. I had hopes of doing the same thing at the Victorian border. No. This border crossing is more serious. Video cameras and people waving cars in for checking. No raiding of quarantine bins here.

Victoria

Victoria

The dark clouds loomed in the afternoon, dumping rain on the horizon to the side, and I was unsure if I was going to get wet. The need for company, the need for shelter and the need for a shower drove me to the campsite, and so here I am.

Looming clouds

Looming clouds

Ouyen

Ouyen


The road through the mallee was long with lengthy stretches with noone. To pass the time I repeated the town names, over and over again, rolling the r. Lameroo. Pinnaroo. Lameroo. Pinnaroo. I didn’t make it to the Victorian border in one day, but almost. Over 10h30 on the bike.

Lameroo

Lameroo

I learned early on that I should not follow the ‘bike route’ that my app constructed.

Not an easy road

Not an easy road

I’ve had lots of sandy road before in the desert in central Australia, but I don’t need it here. I only had 500m or so of deep sand, but it was a bit of a slog in the sun.

The rest was just keep on pedalling through the quite strong side-wind. Tomorrow Victoria. Yay!


And he came galloping down the road as the cars banked up behind him, and behind me. A cute galloping koala – I’ve never seen one run like that. Frightened by the cars, it cowered away from them, at my feet, looking up into my eyes. Finally he crossed the road and clambered up a tree. The cars kept coming and coming as I waited to cross the road too, and be with my new little friend.

My friend the koala.

My friend the koala.

My friend the koala

My friend the koala

Today my distance from the starting point was reset to zero. The starting point of this trip is the end of my last one – Brighton jetty – which is 41483km from Eindhoven by bike. This trip is less ambitious – a little jaunt to Sydney for Christmas. I’m looking forward to getting on the road again – even if it is only for a few weeks. I hope to scale Australia’s highest bump (mountain) on the way. 🙂

Zero kilometres - Brighton Jetty.

Zero kilometres – Brighton Jetty.

Good bye Adelaide for the time being. I will be returning in the new year to study the aboriginal pitjantjatjara language. If all goes well, this will be important for my future projects.. More on that later if my hopes develop further. Anyway, for the time being, Sydney – here I come!


Sitting at a desk in Adelaide, a world bike journey may seem like a world away. Stress, deadlines and meetings make days blur into years. Want to make a change and step off the merry-go-round for a while? Well, this is for you. Some tips for cycling around the world.

Approaching the pass

A quiet road in the back blocks in Uzbekistan

  1. How to I actually DO it? Tell people about it!

You’ve heard stories of people making life decisions with mates at the pub after a few too many? You say what’s on your mind, and what you want to (and are going to) do. Then your mates keep you to your word. The cat is out, and now they’re watching you now follow through. No more letting time pass with inaction.

I decided that my bike trip was not just a dream when I told a friend, and excitedly she said she would come along too. At that moment I realised it was not crazy, and I could totally do it. My mind switched from it being one of those things you just dream about, to something that was going to be a reality. That friend ended up not coming along, but the more people I told about my excitement to do this, the more I knew I really would do it.

Road to Blinman

Approaching the Mawson Trail in the Flinders Ranges, South Australia

  1. How do I know what bike to take?

There seem to be two philosophies.

The first is take a totally standard bike with standard everything. Things will break and you will need to fix them – which will be possible. This philosophy relies on there being replacement bike parts wherever you are. Even if the part is not available (if you are on the Pamir Plateau in Tajikistan), but there are always people to help, makeshift tools to borrow, and hacks to be made.

The second is to buy an expensive high-end bike with ‘unbreakable’ parts that are built to survive a lifetime. If they break, the parts are so uncommon and unheard of outside of the western world, you will be stuck. Take spare parts of the most uncommon things and hope that everything really is unbreakable. This is the option for the total technically incapable bike user.

I am hopeless with bike maintenance and I followed the second philosophy.

Road to Mimili

In the aboriginal APY Lands in northern South Australia.

After going on a 1000km bike tour in Norway and my bike collapsing beneath me (spoke after spoke broke), I went to a bike shop I trusted and let them go through all the different options regarding bikes and their parts, and I ended up with the bike I needed for my adventures.
 

  1. What should I take?

Take photos of home and photos of your bike trip up to now to give to the beautiful people you meet on the way. They really appreciate it. It’s wonderful to share your trip with them, like they are sharing their life and home with you!
 
What else? It depends on where you go. I went through hot and cold areas. In the mountains and desert I needed to cook for myself and be more independent. In south-east Asia, there’s cheap and good food to be had everywhere, so I sent my cooking things home for that leg. A tent there is not needed (as it is too hot), but a hammock and mosquito net is a plus.

In general you will need a bike, panniers, a sleeping bag and mat, clothes and repair stuff. Most cycling blogs have a list of things they took. Here is my list: https://arctic-cycler.com/equipment/

Money money money

US$100 in Uzbekistan som.

  1. How do you prepare your route? What about the visas?

I read blogs. I got excited reading blogs. And videos. I’m going there and it will be amazing! I read blogs to see what the options are. In general, cycling from Europe to Australia, you go through Europe, Turkey, Iran (or Azerbaijan if you are American and can’t get an Iranian visa) and then either Central Asia and China, or India and Burma. From there, it’s down through Thailand and Malaysia to Singapore. Many people fly from Singapore. I cycled through Indonesia to East Timor – an absolute highlight. Here is my list of blogs that inspired me: https://arctic-cycler.com/links/
 
For visas, it is an ever-changing story. Iran, Central Asia and China are the most challenging. I was lucky enough to apply for my Chinese visa in Tehran in the short window of time they were handing out 90 day visas with no questions asked. I understand they no longer do this. The latest up-to-date information can be found on http://caravanistan.com.

Vero giving us tips on the Pamir Highway

The touring cyclist legend Vero in Dushanbe, Tajikistan.

  1. How should I train for it? Will I be able to do it?

The bike journey is not a race – it is a life journey, and you have time to do it. Start slowly and stop to smell the flowers (there are lots around at the moment in the desert – it has rained a lot). Cycling will get you fit for cycling, and as you go on, you will do more, you will seek more challenging and amazing roads and places, and you will become more confident with what you can achieve.

I have met world cyclists of all ages from 18 to 72. I have met westerners, Chinese, Thai. I have cycled with people on budgets of $5 a day (including cycling in Australia). Sure, save some money up to do it, but don’t wait too long. You can start today. Who knows what might happen tomorrow. Your plans may be Trumped by a new situation, and your dreams may remain just that – dreams.

This was an article I wrote for the BikeSA blog in November 2016.

The thai cyclist

A thai cyclist we met that has covered over 100,000km by bike.


The trip is over. At Brighton beach a photographer from the local newspaper took photos of me and my father at the jetty where my mother’s ashes are scattered, and where the bike trip ended. A few small words in the local papers to mark the end of the trip, and the start of the next stage of my life.

Article in the Adelaide Advertiser

Article in the Adelaide Advertiser

Article in the Messenger

Article in the Messenger