Posts by BIKE-HEDONIA
Road Kill
I woke an hour before dawn, momentarily confused: the full moon had moved overhead and was shining through my tent and into my eyes, li...
On the Banks of Coopers Creek
I’d been trying to leave Navarra for a week, but there seemed to be a force holding me down, like extra gravity, every time I tried to ...
Pot Scourer Soup
Goodbyes are hard and so is packing a ridiculous amount of stuff onto a motorbike so that it doesn't fall off. I felt like I was right ...
Misadventures Resumed
Beastie was ready to go. Sitting in Shane's garage in Brisbane, waiting for me, waiting for the misadventures to resume.
I packed up...
From the jaws of defeat
We rode back to Brisbane in the freezing rain then turned around and drove back again in the ute. In the pitch dark, I waited with trep...
Deluge
Beastie was running nicely and I had a couple more days in Brisbane. I suggested to Shane that we should go for a ride - a bit of a tes...
Tears, snot and starter clutches
It's maybe 1500km from Navarra to Brisbane. I watched the open spaces of the outback being replaced by manufactured landscapes and conf...
Things are not right.
The following week Andy and I were back in town. I got the bike out of Roy's shed and wheeled her back to the bike shop.
It still doe...
Rocker arms
So I went to work for Andy, and tried not to think about my motorbike.
I helped him install solar pumps and passed up pieces of windmil...
Waiting for Beastie
So it was back to Navarra, a couple of weeks earlier than planned. With Beastie racking up bills for me, I was happy that I'd accepted ...
Beastie’s in the shop.
It was a two day haul back to Longreach. Unimogs don't go very fast - highway cruising is not really their thing - so we draughted one ...
Moto Problems
What's up with Beastie? It's the burning question. She was running fine, but suddenly became difficult to start. I thought flat battery...
This Fishing Life
You wake up at six, when it's still dark, and blindly slather all exposed flesh with sunscreen and insect repellent. Then you go and ha...
Barramundi: the sweet taste of victory
The centrepiece of the fishing camp was a giant insect-netted marquee grandly named the Taj Mahal. It was here that I found more of tha...
Across the claypan
My fishing friends were hard to miss in their Unimog. They no longer had the air conditioned galley on the tray of the truck, nor the a...