DEANO'S THEORY OF MOTO-VATION

Sorry, bad complicated Darwinism joke.

Leaving

Pack my bags it's time to leave

out by ten new places to be

 throttling again to places unknown

still half the country till I see home

Dean

 Listening to PUB WITH NO BEER Slim Dusty 1957

Iconic Aussie country song made famous by but not actually written 

by Slim. Adapted by a bloke named Gordon Parsons from a poem by Dan Sheahan in 1954 and later picked up by Slim. Remember this and be a star at your next quiz night. Me, I've forgotten it already!

I've been to Darwin too.

The fifty buck donga. 

(Also known as a bunkhouse)

It's ten am and time to get out of here. I haul myself up off the bed reenergising a fine cloud of dust which hangs momentarily in the half light of the tiny window,

One of these and a huge
shed...all a man needs?

before silently descending to the floor awaiting my next move. I grab my helmet, flick the telly off and kill the air con which dies with a tired bang and a sigh. The donga heats instantly as I scan the tiny space for stray belongings. Nothing in the one tired power point, only loose lino tiles on the floor, and there's things under the bed that ain't mine and I wish I'd not seen. A pile of frozen dinner boxes, banana skins, and plastic bags vie for floor space next to the tiny overflowing bin, all bearing testimony to the frugal existence I've led for the last two days. As I swing the heavy steel framed door outwards I'm  instantly blinded by the sun and half miss the grey besser block front step on the way down. I stagger about in the red dust moat surrounding the donga block tugging at my helmet strap and forcing sweaty hands into sticky gloves. The old boy two doors down sits on his front step in the blazing morning sun clad only in ancient footy shorts and thongs. Pretty sure he's a permanent resident. Blue smoke drifts from yellowed fingers and the red dirt around his step is a vast cemetery of discarded smoke butts. His sun scorched naked torso has the colour and texture of a dried out rotisseried chook and honestly he looks like shit. I've been listening to him hawking and coughing his guts up through the thin donga walls for the last two nights so hopefully todays smokes are menthols. 

"Off are ya" he croaks. 

'Yeh mate off to stay at the Hilton on the Esplanade for a week'.

He laughs in disbelief coughing until he almost drowns in his own phlegm and rasps

 "Might head down there meself tonight".

 I swing onto Precious, hit the start button and fire back 

'Ya might wanna iron that shirt first'

 ...which sets him off hawking and coughing again so badly he can no longer answer. Another smoking butt joins it's dead brothers in the dirt around the step and the yellowed hand shoots up and slowly rotates giving me his version of the royal wave as I ride off...to the Hilton!

Seven nights with my own toilet and free slippers.

 Marianne and I spend the next seven nights in the Hilton Doubletree on the Esplanade. Sounds flash eh. We've not spent an extended time in a reasonably

Eighth floor at the front, perfect!

expensive hotel before so it's pretty cool. Marianne managed to cut a deal with the hotel which includes an awesome breakfast. I eat till it hurts everyday hoping to fatten myself up a bit before going back on the road. The hotel is right on the water and we have a magnificent view from the eighth floor. The weather is so good it's almost boring bringing low thirties every day with the occasional light breeze. Darwin's kinda an odd place. It's not huge, there's no real traffic which is good, didn't see any beaches, and it appears to be pretty spread out with bits all over the place. With the big ticket tourist places like Kakadu and

,

Litchfield down the road Darwin appears to sometimes struggle to be any more than a jumping off place for these venues. Luckily for tourism, they got bombed bigtime in WW2, cyclone Tracey  wrecked the place in '74, and they run a pretty good supercar race. At least that gives the local tourist operators some traction and something to talk about!  As all of our previous plans had been cancelled we didn't  venture far and just took it easy. We jumped on a shuttle bus down to the Adelaide River to see the crocodiles, went for a spin in an old army truck for a city and wartime tour, enjoyed a sunset dinner cruise and soaked up the beautiful weather. 

It was a top week and so good to see Marianne again. 

Taken from the window on the first night.

The above pic in the daylight.

Now the first rule is...no limbs outside the boat...got it?
(see below)

I've seen a bit of stuff around the world but for jaw dropping 
value for money the crocs at Adelaide River were right up there!

So I'm going in this contraption? Oddly Marianne really
enjoyed bouncing around Darwin in the back of this
ex WW2 Studebaker. Maybe I should get one!

Waiting for the cruise boat on Stokes Wharf.

Do I go out and look for the sunset....or wait for desert...

The sunset part of the dinner cruise was kinda hazy.

Oh oh time to go already. Perfect break before hitting
 the road again. Marianne has brought my slightly less tattered
jacket from 2014 to replace my current fully tattered one.

Listening to SOUNDS OF THEN Gang Jagang 1985

Also known  on the street as This is Australia. Cool eighties rhythmic song painting daily life in Northern Queensland.  Even used on a pretty good Coca Cola ad in 1988. 

 Westward ho!

The job's not finished till the paperwork's done.

(Written on a toilet seat cover we had at home when I was a kid)

The Western Australian border is open...but with covid things change fast. To get

 into WA I have to fill in a controlled border form which erm, downloads an app etc etc etc blah blah blah. I'm crossing the border at Kununurra  which is a five hundred kilometre ride from Katherine sooooo, don't stuff it up Deano! There's a myriad of questions dealing with hypotheticals of what you will do if you have to quarantine over the border and  if this and if that, which...so...you need to give a hypothetical for a hypothetical for a ...aaaargh I just want to get it right. Anyway I bang in all the rightish scenarios, push the submit  button and "bing", I get an email back saying I'm good from the nineteenth. The nineteenth is exactly fourteen days from when I entered the Northern Territory from Queensland. 

As long as nothing changes in the next three days,

I'm approved...hmm...maybe I'll write a crappy song...

...er sorry!

 The controlled border blues (simple 12 bar)

Well there's a border way out  west (der dum dee dum der dum dee dum)

you won't be crossin without a test (der dum dee dum der dum dee dum)

there's a million stupid questions, and my application's a mess

yeh I've got the controlled border blues

I've got the controlled border blues

Questions about who I've seen

Questions about where I've been

Yeh I've caught the controlled border blues

weeeell they're askin if I smell (der dum dee dum der dum dee dum)

an they're aaaskin if I taste (der dum dee dum der dum dee dum)

 and is that cough you've got there and have you got a temperature

yeh I've got the controlled border blues

I've got the controlled border blues

'n Have your tests come back clean

'n how many states have you been 

Yeh I've caught the controlled border blues

(Could somebody play a lead on air guitar here please)

Dean

The pass I need to pass...
...to pass the border that is.

KLR Ken and DR Deano do the Gibb.
Ok back story. Marianne and I were wandering about in Darwin doing holiday stuff when I spotted a  KLR 650 Kawasaki fully kitted for adventure parked at the kerb. Of course, (eye rolling moment from Marianne) within seconds I was chatting to the owner and met KLR Ken.  Ken is also on a trip round Oz on his KLR and was also heading towards Western Australia before covid got involved. Both of us were thinking of heading down the infamous Gibb River road but we both weren't that sure about doing it on our own due to it being rough as guts. I was really not that keen...but hmm, !@#ck me how did this happen...we exchange phone numbers and kinda commit to doing it together...oh oh...
...aaargh more corrugations and sand!
I leave Darwin on a hot humid morning and head for Katherine. Plan is to spend two nights in a bunkhouse in Katherine Caravan Park before setting off for

Sunset over the Donga...still doesn't sound
romantic huh?

Western Australia, crossing the border just before Kununurra. It's a hot boring drone back down to Katherine and I ride the whole three hundred plus kilometres without stopping. The traffic is heavy and with long waits at road works it is a forgettable ride. I have to waste a day in the caravan park before heading towards the border to complete the fourteen since I left Queensland. It's a long day. I fiddle around with the bike, repack my bags, renew my border pass, try and read, but slowly hour by hour self doubt keeps nagging at me. Do I really need or want to ride down a legendary shitty road in conditions I hate, hmm, and  flogging an already tired motorcycle that still has to get me back home...that's pretty stupid...
...ah what the hell, it's just a road, how hard can it be?

Listening to TOMORROW Silverchair 1994

Ah what a great song. This is the first song most of us remember  when we think about Silverchair.  We all marvelled at how young the band were as they shot to fame both here and the USA. 

 Brilliant Aussie flavoured grunge rock angst!

Borders, meh easy!

I'm up at six gutsing my breakfast down wanting to hit the road by seven. The border is about five hundred kilometres up the road with only one place  to stop along the way. I hit the toilets and showers running right on schedule, zoom in the 

Great big rock scenery between Katherine
and Kununurra

dunny, and...no water! Noooo. I zoom back out into the darkness and have a whinge with a bunch of other early risers all milling about waiting for some H2o. Hmm. Can't go to the toilet, (which are all disgusting and full as the water has been out all night) can't wash my dishes, and can't have a shower....aaaargh. We leave all sorts of pleading messages on the unattended reception phone and, well, just wait. At about seven the water mysteriously reappears and suddenly the toilet and shower doors are banging open and shut all along the amenity blocks. I finally hit the road at seven thirty, open the DR to just over a hundred kph and settle in. It's a beautiful crisp morning, the scenery is great, there's a slight tail wind, I'm banging out some great tunes on the bluetooth...this is good. I have a great ride, possibly one of the most pleasant on the whole

Pine Creek...another day another tank of'
'91 for Precious and cappuccino and chiko
 roll for me.

trip...not epic..just pleasant. I stop at the servo in Pine Creek for lunch and a fuel top up. It's a relaxing place to take a break although the toilets are closed for renovation which necessitates a quick visit to the pub toilet further down the street. It's another couple of hundred kilometres to go to Kununurra so right, OK, let's get going and get this border done. The tail wind prevails and soon enough I'm at the border control. I'm expecting a line up but when I arrive I'm the only one there, this is good. I flash my new phone ap to a polite police lady, she checks her computer, thumbs up and I'm good to go...really...that easy...awesome. Must have really nailed those questions! While she's been checking her computer I chat to another policeman who puts me to the honesty test and I'm relieved of all 

This is a border control point. Kind of a 
human sheep dip to make sure you're
not bringing covid bugs in.

my bananas and apples... hmm great...much to his delight I manage to scoff down a couple on the spot leaving him with just the skins. Western Australia is an hour and a half behind in time so suddenly I'm heaps earlier than planned and get to my motel early in the afternoon. I've splashed out a little on a motel as the plan is to rise early again tomorrow and meet Ken at the Gibb River Road entrance on the Wyndham road, fifty five kilometres away. Ken has been camping in Wyndham about thirty kilometres up from the entrance. I figure I'm really gonna need to be fresh and ready for what's coming. That afternoon I

Ah back to 110kph...right in DR650 territory!

grab some more apples and bottles of water from the local Coles. There's no bananas to be had and once again I'm amazed at how empty the shelves are at all these local outback supermarkets. When I was in Katherine the shelves were so bare I thought maybe another lockdown had been announced that I hadn't heard about. One theory I heard was that the huge influx of extra caravanners on the road were draining local supplies in country towns which I guess makes sense.  That night after grappling with the time difference I'm into bed early confident that, well, I 'm as ready to go as I can be. 

I've fuelled the bike, checked everything is tight,

 repacked and padded everything breakable or scratchable. 

Precious and I are ready...ish.

C'mon tomorrow morning, let's get this Gibb road done!  

On the way into Kununurra. OK...I was so 
caught up in planning the next day there is no 
shots of Kununurra...ah well.

Listening to

 AM I EVER GONNA SEE YOUR FACE AGAIN

The Angels 1976

OK 70s people this is the one you've been waiting for.

Put a thousand pissed people in flannies into a crappy venue licensed for two hundred, no air con, crank the sound to eleven and play this. Everybody's happy. 

Never see that again will we!

REALITY CHECK

So I've got about seven or eight thousand kilometres to go. The map says the next bit is all downhill to the bottom of Western Australia so better fuel consumption perhaps? Precious is showing almost thirteen thousand kilometres since she left so we're well on the way home. We've not used a single drop of oil since we left which is remarkable and as long as we don't crash and burn on the Gibb...maybe we'll make it! It's kinda harsh up here. People are nice enough but it's expensive, there's no choices, everybody knows, so you pay up for everything. If you don't take it someone else will. I'm paying through the nose for motels more often now as camp sites are often charged as caravan sites just for a patch of dust in an unpleasant location...there's rarely food nearby, it's a long way to the toilets, bugger it I'll pay up instead for a bed telly and aircon (and sometimes water!). The other night I sat in a Puma servo eating the standard hamburger with the lot (which to be honest was reasonably priced) watching the counter and the amount of cash going through that place was staggering. They were desperately understaffed and people coming in were buying everything not nailed down at almost double supermarket prices. The queues in the supermarkets at the checkouts equal city ones even though many shelves are bare. The staff in a lot of places are new and untrained, and most electronic infrastructure is not up to the job adding to the queues everywhere. 

Seems there's all this cash floating around and no one to take it! 

NEXT BLOG

HMM. I GO DOWN THE GIBB RIVER ROAD.

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CHEERS DEAN