The Gibb River road; 650km of dirt track running through the wilderness of the Kimberley region in Western Australia. From the start near the town of Derby, whose claim to fame is for having the highest tides in Australia, there is nothing apart from a couple of petrol stations until one reaches the large town of Kununurra. Huge cattle stations, often of over a million acres found along the road offer stays, but being set many kilometres from the track are usually out of reach of most cyclists. Built back in the fifties for the beef trade the road has become increasingly popular for four wheel drive tourists in recent years. Unfortunately for me and any other cyclists high speed land cruisers are never far away and my vision of being the only person on the Gibb soon evaporated as I was regularly showered with gravel and dust. Being there in the school holidays didn't help either.
The Gibb River road at its best before the motor tourists have had a chance to extract themselves from the campsites. I loaded up with food in Derby and planned to make it through to Kununurra without buying more supplies. The two road houses, Imintji and Mt Barnett were well stocked with food but inflated prices meant I was happy with my decision to carry a heavy load of food. I settled with a cold coke. The beauty of the Gibb is that finding water is rarely a problem as small creeks are common where bottles may be filled.
The road's surface varied from smooth hard packed clay, to corrugated gravel and through to patches of soft sand where pushing was required. Luckily the sandy areas were few and far between while the corrugations spread for most of the length of the road. Nothing too major apart from a side road that led down to the famous Windjana gorge. It sounded like shouldn't miss this spot so I made the twenty three km side trip only to find a virtually unridable road. And at the end a pretty gorge swarmed by a million tourists. Although pretty, I was hoping for wilderness without hoards of people so after the day cooled I pushed back to the main road in the dark. The idea of seeing those corrugations again wasn't too inviting!
large and grotesquely formed termite mounds are common in Western Australia and provide a convenient place to lean the bike. Because the days were pretty hot while I was on the Gibb early starts were the plan. Cycling as the sun began to rise meant some peace and quiet before traffic started flying past. I'd usually have a couple of hours until the first dust cloud would appear in the distance. Approximately 100-150 vehicles would pass each day, most at break neck speeds. Some kind people would stop for a chat and offer some water or something to eat and even cold beer on a couple of occasions. This of course was most appreciated. But most would speed by while clicking photos from the window. It must be hard being trapped in such a fast moving world that even when you are out in the wilderness you can't slow down a little.
Windjana Gorge; nice spot but overcrowded with tourists. I heard a group talking about the freshwater Crocodiles that inhabit the creek. 'I wonder where they have all gone...there used to be loads here'. Maybe they had left because hundreds of people passed within a few feet of their home each day. Just a sneaky suspicion. Fossils found in the rocks indicate a giant crocodile used to live in the area back in the age of the dinosaurs.
It warmed up towards midday so I took advantage of any road side water for a cool off dip. Most creeks were clean and still flowing but some were already slowing to a trickle. I stripped off and jumped into this slightly green pool finding instant refreshment after a few hard hours on the dusty road. As I cooled down an adventure bus carrying thirty people passed and must have found the sight particularly interesting; Naked man in the middle of nowhere with no transport!
Surprisingly some tourists towed their caravans over the Gibb. Although designed for off roading, the caravans must take a massive hammering and be a constant worry for the driver. I kept trying to figure out what's wrong with a good old tent?
Camp spots on the Gibb River road could often be found by cool water holes. Under a starry sky frogs and crickets would serenade me to sleep. The local mozzies that carry such diseases as Murray river fever meant it was better to sleep in the tent rather than take the preferred option of open air. At least with the water close by it meant unlimited tea on tap!
Some areas of the road became quite rough with sharp gravel. The bike tyre were ok but it seemed the vehicles didn't fare quite so well. Often I would see shredded tyres discarded in the bush and once I came across a couple whose rear tyre was cut to pieces. They had no idea how to change the wheel so I did it for them. A cold coke was offered for my trouble as I wondered what they were doing out in the middle of nowhere without even basic mechanical knowledge! Luckily for them it seems these days in Australia help is usually just around the corner.
Strung along the Gibb are a series of fabulous gorges which is a welcoming sight to a parched cyclist. It seems in the past camping was allowed but thanks to inconsiderate tourists leaving litter it has been banned. Sometimes on the bicycle there is no other option but to stay where you are when darkness falls and a couple of times I was near a beautiful gorge.
Adcock Gorge is a truly stunning spot in the Kimberley. Fresh cool water tumbles ten metres to a perfect swimming hole before dropping down a series of cascades into the creek below. For those who look carefully shoals of small fish can be seen in the deep dark water while high above agile rock wallabies make their homes on the orange cliffs. The bird life around the water is rich; many species of parrot frequent the area while ubiquitous Galahs and Correllas arrive every evening in a great cacophony to prepare for sleep. Quieter birds such as honey eaters flit amongst the trees looking for their sugary food. I arrived late at the gorge and was greeted by a full moon rising above the surrounding hills which bathed the area in a pure white light. Swimming in the moonlight in the quiet of the Kimberley was something to remember.
Durack River crossing; it was 10am, 60km covered and i'd just been given a cold can of beer by two touring farmers who judging by how many beers they carried were probably living on the stuff. It was not really a good idea at that time in the morning and it meant the next hour was pretty hard going. It didn't help when the cable holding my bar bag to the bars snapped and the bag tumbled to the gravel. A hot half hour in amongst the gum trees and dry grass saw the problem fixed with a spare brake cable and I was back on the track towards the Pentecost River and ranges.
The Pentecost river crossing; everyone warned my of the danger of crocodiles but upon my arrival it seemed that the regular stream of four wheel drives would have scared them all far away. To be fair, although wide it was pretty shallow and didn't look to difficult to cross. Being a fisherman my other logic was to 'match the hatch'. With so many Pardos and Landcruisers to feed on why would a croc want a skinny cyclist? So I unloaded my bags from the bicycle and carried half the load across the river and then started to wade back for the rest. Half way back and a Kimberly Wild bus pulls up and gaggles of tourists start filing off and taking photos of me! Just what I wasn't in the mood for as I had already had my photo taken 15000 times and was getting a little bored of it. Next thing the Khaki Clad tour guide who's shorts were far to big, marched over and said 'you're not going to ride that thing across are you'. I was a bit put out by her referring to my trusty bicycle as a thing but managed to keep my cool and reply that I was going to carry it across. At this point in an almost hysterical voice she said 'what about the crocodiles?' so i replied that we had an understanding and turned, put the bike on my shoulder and marched off across the river! I could almost hear the steam coming from the tour guide's ears. I imagined how she had been building the crocodile danger to all her tourists only for me to ruin it for her. The funniest bit was the back of my shorts were ripped to pieces and as I walked off across the river my arse was on show for all the old dears to photograph. I'm sure they were all thouroghly entertained!
The Gibb River road at its best before the motor tourists have had a chance to extract themselves from the campsites. I loaded up with food in Derby and planned to make it through to Kununurra without buying more supplies. The two road houses, Imintji and Mt Barnett were well stocked with food but inflated prices meant I was happy with my decision to carry a heavy load of food. I settled with a cold coke. The beauty of the Gibb is that finding water is rarely a problem as small creeks are common where bottles may be filled.
The road's surface varied from smooth hard packed clay, to corrugated gravel and through to patches of soft sand where pushing was required. Luckily the sandy areas were few and far between while the corrugations spread for most of the length of the road. Nothing too major apart from a side road that led down to the famous Windjana gorge. It sounded like shouldn't miss this spot so I made the twenty three km side trip only to find a virtually unridable road. And at the end a pretty gorge swarmed by a million tourists. Although pretty, I was hoping for wilderness without hoards of people so after the day cooled I pushed back to the main road in the dark. The idea of seeing those corrugations again wasn't too inviting!
large and grotesquely formed termite mounds are common in Western Australia and provide a convenient place to lean the bike. Because the days were pretty hot while I was on the Gibb early starts were the plan. Cycling as the sun began to rise meant some peace and quiet before traffic started flying past. I'd usually have a couple of hours until the first dust cloud would appear in the distance. Approximately 100-150 vehicles would pass each day, most at break neck speeds. Some kind people would stop for a chat and offer some water or something to eat and even cold beer on a couple of occasions. This of course was most appreciated. But most would speed by while clicking photos from the window. It must be hard being trapped in such a fast moving world that even when you are out in the wilderness you can't slow down a little.
Windjana Gorge; nice spot but overcrowded with tourists. I heard a group talking about the freshwater Crocodiles that inhabit the creek. 'I wonder where they have all gone...there used to be loads here'. Maybe they had left because hundreds of people passed within a few feet of their home each day. Just a sneaky suspicion. Fossils found in the rocks indicate a giant crocodile used to live in the area back in the age of the dinosaurs.
It warmed up towards midday so I took advantage of any road side water for a cool off dip. Most creeks were clean and still flowing but some were already slowing to a trickle. I stripped off and jumped into this slightly green pool finding instant refreshment after a few hard hours on the dusty road. As I cooled down an adventure bus carrying thirty people passed and must have found the sight particularly interesting; Naked man in the middle of nowhere with no transport!
Surprisingly some tourists towed their caravans over the Gibb. Although designed for off roading, the caravans must take a massive hammering and be a constant worry for the driver. I kept trying to figure out what's wrong with a good old tent?
View over the King Leopold Ranges on the way west.
Camp spots on the Gibb River road could often be found by cool water holes. Under a starry sky frogs and crickets would serenade me to sleep. The local mozzies that carry such diseases as Murray river fever meant it was better to sleep in the tent rather than take the preferred option of open air. At least with the water close by it meant unlimited tea on tap!
Some areas of the road became quite rough with sharp gravel. The bike tyre were ok but it seemed the vehicles didn't fare quite so well. Often I would see shredded tyres discarded in the bush and once I came across a couple whose rear tyre was cut to pieces. They had no idea how to change the wheel so I did it for them. A cold coke was offered for my trouble as I wondered what they were doing out in the middle of nowhere without even basic mechanical knowledge! Luckily for them it seems these days in Australia help is usually just around the corner.
The Gibb stretches off to the horizon. I had to rush in my own way, as unfortunately my supplies were limited to what could be carried. A hundred kilometres per day was average which this guaranteed a sound sleep at the end of the long day. I would usually be up before the sun rose and cycling as it peeped over the horizon to make the most of the cool morning and also the lack of traffic for the fist few hours. To cover a hundred kilometers would usually the best part of the day but with a decent siesta throw in for good measure.
Strung along the Gibb are a series of fabulous gorges which is a welcoming sight to a parched cyclist. It seems in the past camping was allowed but thanks to inconsiderate tourists leaving litter it has been banned. Sometimes on the bicycle there is no other option but to stay where you are when darkness falls and a couple of times I was near a beautiful gorge.
Adcock Gorge is a truly stunning spot in the Kimberley. Fresh cool water tumbles ten metres to a perfect swimming hole before dropping down a series of cascades into the creek below. For those who look carefully shoals of small fish can be seen in the deep dark water while high above agile rock wallabies make their homes on the orange cliffs. The bird life around the water is rich; many species of parrot frequent the area while ubiquitous Galahs and Correllas arrive every evening in a great cacophony to prepare for sleep. Quieter birds such as honey eaters flit amongst the trees looking for their sugary food. I arrived late at the gorge and was greeted by a full moon rising above the surrounding hills which bathed the area in a pure white light. Swimming in the moonlight in the quiet of the Kimberley was something to remember.
Contrasting features of the Australian bush; a boab (Adansonia gibbosa) grows near a clear water creek. Being a species that is supremely adept to surviving long dry conditions it seems this one has an easy life. There are eight species of baobabs, with Africa and Madagascar being home to seven of these and Australia just one. Unsurprisingly there are various theories of how the boab arrived in Australia, including seeds drifting on the oceans and also the trees being a relic left when when the continents split 65 million years ago. Probably we will never know but for sure they will remain an icon of the Kimberly region for a long time yet.
Nearing Mt Barnett stores a fair way down the Gibb and looking forward to a cold can of coke. I planned to cover the next 400 km in the next four days depending on how the road conditions turned out. A couple of old characters kept me entertained at the stores as they tried to figure out why I hadn't followed convention and tackle Australia in an air conditioned 4wd like most people.
Some sections of the Gibb River road proved to be hard going as the road surface deteriorated into deep sand but luckily these stretches didn't usually last for too long.
The Schwalbe Marathon XR as always performed well on the dirt track but a recently purchased marathon tour plus began to bulge by the end of the Gibb and needed to be replaced in Kununurra.
Durack River crossing; it was 10am, 60km covered and i'd just been given a cold can of beer by two touring farmers who judging by how many beers they carried were probably living on the stuff. It was not really a good idea at that time in the morning and it meant the next hour was pretty hard going. It didn't help when the cable holding my bar bag to the bars snapped and the bag tumbled to the gravel. A hot half hour in amongst the gum trees and dry grass saw the problem fixed with a spare brake cable and I was back on the track towards the Pentecost River and ranges.
Rest stop by a magnificent Boab tree on the flats below the Pentecost ranges
High speed tourist traffic was a downside to cycling on the Gibb. Thick dust and getting peppered with gravel wasn't great, but didn't seem to concern most drivers who mostly seemed desperate to reach somewhere in record time. Thanks to those who did take the time to slow down a little.
Stretches of the Gibb River Road were badly corrugated and slowed progress considerably. The road will usually be better after the wet when grading has been completed, but arriving in the school holidays and relatively heavy traffic meant the conditions deteriorated daily. Still, per day 100km was a viable target to cycle.
A fine Wedge tailed eagle feeds on road kill wallaby. On the roads in Australia many eagles and kites end up going the same way as their meals. Unable to make a fast getaway after gorging themselves, fast moving traffic makes short work of them.
Stopping to top up my water bottle I heard a beer rolling on the gravel, and thought it was the wind. Luckily for the goanna I saw him tapped in the can walking in circles, getting perilously close to the road. It was a sad sight indeed but a little knife work the lizard soon had his freedom again. Perhaps a good warning about the dangers of drinking.
Rescued goanna ready to run away at high speed!
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