2007 Postie Bike Challenge. (or Heat, dust and an ouch.)

[Jantar]

Sure enough two mini busses soon arrived to take us to a formation known as The Rangeland Rifts. This is a rock formation situated about 13kms north of Winton on the Hughenden Road. The Rifts consist of the most amazing rock formations caused by natural erosion, which have formed corridors and caves. Apparently, according to our guide, 75 million years ago this area was a mountain 15000 feet high. Over the years it has eroded to now form an escarpment that is only 500 feet high.

When we arrived at the top of the Rift a family of kangaroos was hopping around and just playing in the late afternoon sun. We were led through a maze of eroding rock formations where it would be quite easy to get lost.

After an amazing tour we wandered down to the cliff tops facing west, arriving just before the ute carrying the beer. Dinner consisting of a chicken curry and rice was served to us just after sunset. However the bar soon ran out of beer and it was time to head back to our camp for the night.

Photos

1 & 2 The Rifts
3 Sunset
4 Dinner after sunset

[shafty]

Bloody good read Malcolm, and sweet pics to boot, keep typing Mate!!

[Daffyd]

Brilliant writeup Malcolm. All the best for your trip to Dunedin.

[Jantar]

Sunday 21st was to be a short day in distance, but over difficult terrain. We departed Winton at 7:30 am and headed north straight into a strong head wind. As we were leaving town, my bike started making a strange noise from the rear. I stopped and put it onto the main stand, and spun the rear wheel. It sounded like the front sprocket was excessively worn and there were signs of steel filings on the chain. I flagged down the mechanics truck, and they determined that as the chain wasn't jumping the sprocket that it would get me to the nights stop, and they would change the chain and sprocket then.

It was hard going into the wind and I could only manage a top speed af around 62 kmh. No one else was much better and the 86 km to Corfield took an hour and a half. From here we turned west onto a dirt road towards Sesbania. Well, the aussies called it dirt, I would call it sand. However it was hard packed and not too difficult to maintain a good pace now that the wind was no longer right on the nose. I turned on the video camera and drifted back towards the back of the field while getting as many on camera as possible. Once at the back I powered on a bit and passed riders while still filming. I passed about twenty riders in total and was following Gus quite closely when he went down.

I have seen many crashes over the years, and experienced quite a few, but this was totally different. Normally with a high side there is a loss of traction at the rear, the tyre grips again and tosses the rider, but not this time. One second he was riding quite normally and with no warning the bike just stopped and flipped him and the bike into a single forward flop. (Later I stepped out the distance from where his front wheel hit the hidden bull dust to where he was laying on the ground. It was less than 2 meters from close to 70 kmh to dead stopped.)

I immediately stopped behind him and could see no sign of any movement at all. As I ran up to where he lay it was obvious that he wasn't breathing and was unconcious. He was still attached to his bike and both feet were still on the pegs so before I could do anything else I had to get the bike off him. As I extricated the bike, another rider, Jeff, arrived to assist. We cleared his airway and he began breathing but in gasps, and not getting much air into his lungs. There was blood coming from under the helmet which gave us the dilemma as to whether or not to remove the helmet. On closer examination the blood was from the facial area and so with care we supported his neck and gently as possible removed his helmet. By now more riders were stopping and we had additional assistance so we gently as possible rolled him into the recovery position and almost immediately his breathing became strong and steady.

The backup crew soon arrived and we were able to rig some shade for Gus and call for medical assistance via the sat phone, then about 15 minutes after the crash he started to regain consciousness. Once we were sure he was out of immediate danger and the backup crew had everything in hand Jeff and I headed out to try and catch up with everyone else.

Bull dust is terrible stuff to ride in and times I was struggling to control the bike at under 20 kmh, yet at other times I was comfortable at 70. Often it was safer to ride along side the road than to try and plow through talcum powder consistency dust that was 20 - 30 cm deep.

About 30 minutes later I came across another rider (name forgotten) who had crashed a few minutes earlier. His hand was swelling rapidly and showed all the signs of being fractured and his front forks were badly twisted. He was going no further so I just made sure he was comfortable and had food and water, and left him for the back up crew.

All along the road there were signs of numerous crashes, but as the riders and bikes were no longer there they obviously weren't serious ones. I soon caught up with Greg and slowed down to match his pace, around 50 kmh. We both passed Hoppy and a minute or two later I let my attention wander.

I saw Greg ride over a cattle stop, and then go down into a dip. I couldn't see his wheels and knew subconsciously that as a result I also couldn't see the road surface. As I crossed the cattle stop I could see Greg about 30 m ahead, but I made the mistake of looking at him rather than the road surface. Next thing I was on the ground with my bike revving away next to me. I tried to get up and realised I couldn't move my left arm, and I was in some pain. I somehow managed to struggle to my feet and get the bike upright before killing the engine, then I started to assess the damage. My crash was an almost carbon copy of Gus's one earlier. The front wheel dug into the bull dust, twisted the handlebars out of my hands and dumped me over the top. The distance from where my front wheel first hit the bull dust to where it was stopped was less than 2 meters from 50 kmh.

Hoppy came over the rise, saw me and stopped. He helped pick up my gear which had spilled from the bike, and my left glove which was somehow lying in the dirt. After getting helmet, jacket, right glove etc off, I soon determined that my left shoulder was dislocated, but I had no other obvious injury. The bike had the headlight lens pushed in, but not broken and the crate with fuel, water, lunch, etc had broken free of the bike.

Greg had stopped further up the track when he realised I was no longer behind him, and another group of six riders were not far behind, so I had plenty of support, but no-one who knew any first aid. I taught Hoppy how to make a sling out of the triangular bandage in the first aid kit, and just waited for the back up crew to arrive. Richard, one of the mechanics was next on the scene with the mobile workshop, and he waited with me while Hoppy and the other riders carried on. It wasn't long before Lang, one of the back up crew arrived with a utility and loaded my bike on the back and I climbed into the passenger seat.

As we carried on to Proa Station and our overnight stop we could see lots of marks in the bull dust where many other riders went down. I was supporting my left arm with my right hand, even though it was in the sling, and that seemed to ease the pain a bit. Lang was driving fairly fast when he hit an unexpected dip in the road; I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder and a pop, after which the pain was only a dull throb. I felt around with my right hand and it appeared that my shoulder had popped back in. This was great as it meant that with a bit of massage I'd be riding again the next day.

However, when we arrived in Proa I took my arm out of the sling and still couldn't move it. That suggested something was still amiss. The rider with the injured hand was in the very next truck, and it was obvious that he also needed medical attention. Katrina, one of the organisers, rang Julia Creek to see if a doctor was available and was told to bring both of us straight in.

So at 5:30 pm, two motorcycle riders, covered in dust, arrived at Julia Creek Hospital. Julia Creek is a small outback town in the middle of no-where. It is about the size of Palmerston or perhaps Tirau yet has a hospital. The two nurses on duty did all the basics, and had the Xrays done by the time the doctor arrived. Yes, the other rider had a broken bone in his hand, but my Xray showed nothing conclusive. The doctor wasn't prepared to give me a diagnosis and gave me a referral to Mt Isa for more Xrays and an ultrasound scan. The nurses did replace my makeshift sling with a proper collar and cuff, and plastered up the other guy in such a way that he could still ride on smooth going.

We arrived back at Proa at 8:30 pm to find that dinner had been kept for us and we were sleeping in the shearers' quarters so didn't have to worry about setting up tents. Most importantly, the bar was still open.

Photos: My makeshift sling

[Jantar]

The giant air compressor alarm woke us at 5:30 am on Monday morning and I immediately had to learn a whole new set of skills. Like how to shower and then dry myself with only one arm. To put on a shirt, then to tuck it into my trousers. How to pack all my gear into the carry bag now that I was no longer wearing my riding gear. All sorts of things that I normally take for granted had to be re-learned. Other people would offer to help with things that I didn't need any help with, then other skills I would refuse help with because I knew I had to be able to do them by myself. Even now, over two weeks later, I still find the hardest thing is to dry myself after a shower.

While packing up I realised that there were two items that had been in the crate on the bike that were no longer with me: My book of maps, and my reading glasses. They were both obviously lost in the dust 70 km back down the road.

We left Proa at 7:30 am with me in the lead vehicle as we made our way back to Julia creek and the bus station. It was sad to say farewell to everyone, but I did promise to meet up with them in Cairns, or earlier, if possible. At Julia creek I unloaded my bags at 8:15 am and sat outside the News Agents so I could wave to the riders as they passed by.

Julia Creek is a small town consisting of a pub, a stock and station agent, a news agent / bus depot, a real estate agent, a general store, a clothing store, a library, a petrol station, a mini superette, a post office and a hospital. The News agent didn't open till 9:00 am and at that time I booked the first bus I could get to Mt Isa; it was due to leave at 3:20 pm. So how to fill in 6 hours in a small town? Well the library had internet, and for $6 per hour I could access kiwibiker for most of the day. The librarian did kick me out for an hour at lunch time, but then she didn't charge me for the afternoon session.

The bus arrived at 3:15 pm and had the surliest driver I've ever struck. He abused the passengers ahead of me, grunted at my ticket because it was issued after he started the run (which meant he had to enter my details by hand) and made me wait till all other luggage was loaded before I was permitted to swing my bags on one handed. I had to move other luggage to be able to do that.

We arrived in Mt Isa at 7:10 pm and I soon found a taxi. I asked the Taxi driver to take me to a hotel or motel somewhere close to the hospital. The driver asked "Are you booked?"
To which I answered "No!"

He then informed me that all hotels and motels in Mt Isa were full and that nearest would be Cloncurry 100 km back down the road. Damn, OK, I suggested then that as I had a tent and sleeping bag that he take me to the camping ground. But when he heard "sleeping bag" he suggested the back packers may have something. Sure enough, they had a double room available, so I grabbed it.

First thing next morning I made my way to the hospital and was sent straight through to Xray. As at Julia Creek the Xray showed nothing, so the Dr booked me in for a scan. The earliest scan was late thursday morning, two days away. I thought that was a bit poor, until Monday this week at Dunedin Public Hospital when I found the waiting time for an orthopaedic scan in Dunedin is 8 - 16 weeks. On the thursday I turned up for my scan and learnt that it appeared that at least one and possibly two muscles were pulled away from the bone. That diagnosis was confirmed in the afternoon, and the Senior Doctor said that surgery was needed, and within weeks, not months. He could get me into Townsville Hospital in a little over a weeks time, and I could get surgery in Australia within one to two weeks after that. My Travel Insurance wasn't prepared to pay for additional time in Australia, so it was decided that I should continue with my planned trip and present myself at Dunedin Hospital as soon as possible after I arrived back in NZ.

Meanwhile, staying at the back packers was quite good. There was a swimming pool that I used twice a day, and it was only a few minutes walk into town. I did find that I couldn't use a knife to cut any food while I held a fork in my right hand, so I lived on finger food like Pizza, Subway, or KFC. Damn, how I missed a good steak and a plate of veges.

[ducatijim]

The more I read about bull-dust, the less I am looking forward to it.....if 'looking forward' is the right term. I do hope a 21" front wheel will give more resiliance.
Great read Malcolm,hope you mend well and soon.

[Bass]

The more I read about bull-dust, the less I am looking forward to it.....if 'looking forward' is the right term. I do hope a 21" front wheel will give more resiliance.
Great read Malcolm,hope you mend well and soon.

Seconded!!

[bell]

Crikey! I was rather enjoying your journey through my old backyard until your fall. I love that area around Winton. Some of the only contour lines you'll see on a map in that part of Central Western Qld.

I'm glad to hear that you survived the Isa. It has a reputation unlike few others in Australia. It sounds like you stayed in the backpackers that was home to a dozen or so travellers at the time that the Leichardt River broke its banks some years ago....it was a dramatic rescue I can assure you.

I do hope Steam is reading this! I think there's probably a few things for him to make note of.

Rest up and heal fast. Hope you get a good looking physio when the time comes. It does wonders for helping one to keep the interest up in the (usually) bloody painful exercises they'll inflict upon you.

[Jantar]

On Friday I flew to Cairns and booked into the same hotel that the Postie Bike riders were using on Saturday night. They even gave me the same reduced rate of $100 per night. I knew Steam was in Cairns somewhere, but I had no internet access and no way of getting in touch.

Saturday morning I managed to get a ride to Mossman with the family of one of the other riders, where once again I became part of the group. Although I could ride into Cairns on the bike, I still followed in a cage and took plenty of photos of riders as we passed them.

Everyone regrouped on the outskirts of Cairns for some group photos and a bit of hilarity before riding to the finish point.

[Jantar]

1 Our lady riders
2 Some Arses on the ride
3 Team Kiwi
4 The last refuel with only 3 kms to go.

[Jantar]

The bikes arriving at Fogarty Park in Cairns. Bike 26 (last photo) is my one even though I'm not riding it. (Note the KB sticker on the side.)

Steam was at the park ready to take over ownership of the bike and pleased to see that it is going to continue its long distance travel.

[Mrs Busa Pete]

This is great reading keep it up.

Hope your shoulder is sorted real quick

[RiderInBlack]

Hope your shoulder is sorted real quick

Aye. Heal well Malcome

[Virago]

http://www.kiwibiker.co.nz/forums/sh...ad.php?t=60713

[Jantar]

Thanks for all the good wishes everyone. It will be a couple of months before I get surgery, then a further 1 - 2 months before I can ride again. So far I've pulled out of all rides for November through to the end of January, but I'm still hopeful for the passes ride in february.

This final batch of photos is at the final nights dinner. The last photo is the group of injured riders who required hospital treatment and were at Cairns. Two others (including Gus) didn't get there.

Would I do it again? I would love to. Its a well organised event and a great bunch of riders all out of their comfort zone.

However, next time I go motorcycling in Aussie, I shall take my own bike over and show Stromfrau what the center of Aussie is like.