Today I have tried to solve the dust issue by using some pipes to draw air from the front of the bike to the air intake. The problem is there isn’t enough space to fit a large enough pipe to supply sufficient air to the sucker. A basic bit of maths suggests it wants around 40L/second at redline if the cylinder is filled 100% in each stroke. So its easy to understand why three 25mm tubes to the front of the bike was not enough. The bike ran at lower revs but when accelerating moderately it would become very rich due to a lack of air.

Righto, rip all that out.

I went back to a more elaborate version of what Donnie had suggested. Basically using duct tape to stop it drawing from near the back wheel. With rags, duct tape and filter foam I carefully redirected the intake forward.

We will see how it works tomorrow.

The ride back out to the main track toward Lakefield National Park was a  challenging but pretty relaxed for the most part.

Huge spreading palms

A nice  spot but heck the mosquitos were hungry and boy there were lots of them

Old dead truck

A lagoon by the road in Lakefield National Park caught my eye.

White lily lagoon

White lily lagoon

Mawson at White Lily Lagoon

One of the crossing in Lakefild Nation Park

Termite fields

Raman spotted a sign to Sweetwater lake so we headed down there for lunch.

Sweetwater lake

I was hot and wanted to wet my hot and sweaty riding gear. Hmmm, croc territory.  Looking closer at the water and….”whats that gentle disturbance?  Bugger that, I am not going near that water. In fact I think I’ll move back a bit and eat lunch behind my bike”.

On the way back Raman copped the first puncture of the trip and boy was it a serious puncture!

Flat #1

Flat #1 close up

Raman did well to change the tube in about half an hour, patching the inside of the tyre with some rubber from the old tube to help stop further material coming in through the damaged tyre casing.

This last leg has been quiet as we had only seen five or so vehicles since Hope Vale. Soaking up the vast expanses by ourselves has been a real treat.

Getting into Musgrave was a reminder that the Peninsula Development Road (PDR) is a dirt highway for the swarms of grey nomads.  Back on this tourist route we must share these remote places with others. There wasn’t too much traffic heading up the PDR to Coen,   perhaps 15-20 per hour which is nice. The PDR,  is in very good condition with minimal corrugations and sand drifts.

We are camped at Coen. I am continuing to have challenges with dust. My air filters are needing to be replaced twice a day. I have changed exactly 10 filters in the time since Cobbold Gorge and Raman has done his just now. So I am ingesting about 10x the amount of dust. I do wonder what Kawasaki were thinking when they put the air intake over the back wheel?!  For Australia’s dusty roads I have to warn of this serious down side to the KLR.

A day to explore. We pulled the gear off our bikes and headed up a very steep hill climb and over a few more hills to another beach and an old resort.

Resort: View from the front door

Raman attempting to straighten his engine guard bars

More collapsed resort

Shells

Jump!

There was no one camped here but there were two boats putting crab pots in the lagoon when we arrived.

The point is pretty but the sun is beating down and there is little shade.

On our way back toward the old resort I noticed the grass had been flattened leading up the valley which  we decided to follow. I had heard there were small caves up the valley but the guy didn’t know how far they were, and didn’t think there was a track.

Apparently there is a track now as the trail through the grass led us straight to the  caves. We immediately found the aboriginal rock paintings that had also been mentioned.

The rock art seems to depict fishing and food gather activities amoung the mangroves. The floor of the cave is dark soil full of shells. A lot of sea food was eaten here.

Raman and I sat for a long while in the shade of the overhanging rocks after looking at the paintings. Watching the trees blowing in the strong wind while letting our thoughts wander.

Some aboriginal people believe photographs take something away from a place so perhaps  I will leave this little gem to the imagination.

We rode a bit further up the valley to checkout the landscape.

The bushland around the caves

Rock art of another kind

I love this image. The colours captivated me. What a pretty landscape…and very hot.

Back along the rough trail and over the hills and down the steep hill and we are back near camp but we still have another stop, one we have saved for the end of our hot ride under the blazing sun. We head a few km south before going back into the hills  to find this spring filling a bathtub under a huge mango tree.

Slightly carbonated mineral water. What a surprise.

We filter water for drinking and washed both our bodies and our sweat drenched clothes.

What an amazing place.

Back at camp I chatted to our neighbours again about fishing times. They suggested just on sunset on the rocky point was the way to go, although they hadn’t caught anything. Having said that I went out to the point with them last night and there was a lot more dining going on than fishing. They were also using very big bait and hooks looking for Barramundi.

They gave me some chilled bait fish they netted yesterday. Thanks guys 🙂

I spent a little of the remaining light with my camera.

When the sun set I headed out to the point to catch dinner.

I decided to use a smaller hook and a small bit of one of the bait fish.

Before long I had nibbles. The first few got away as I started pulling them in too soon. I quickly learnt to let the  fish, apparently Trevally, “run” a little.

My efforts got us three fish that amounted to a nice meal. Raman, on my request had sharpened a stick as I had a few crabs come in on the line but they had gotten away just next to the shore. Raman had a go at fishing and brought in a crab and ,with me using the sharpened stick, we added a crab to the evening meal.

With some rice to complete the meal we were laughing.

I recall being told the aboriginals would cook the fish straight on the coals until they looked burnt to a crisp so I though I would have a go. The first one was cooked on the outside but not all the way through. I didn’t have the guts to leave it until it was burnt to a chrisp. The skin was burnt but the flesh was good. I decided to wait for the fire to die down a bit. The next two were just right. The skin, all blackened and charred, just peeled off so easily and the flesh was cook beautifully.

And we watched a fingernail moon set over the water as we ate dinner.

I will remember these days for a long time to come.

We pulled the gear off the bikes and prepared some lunch for a day trip in to Cape Melvile and back to our camp site.

The unloaded bikes rode like a dream in the deep sand. I feel like I am back on the Husaberg 570 again. This is a lot of fun.

See James’ comment at the bottom of the post for an amazing little bit of history that killed the trees around this freshwater lagoon.

Our first sight of Cape Melvile

It is still windy and even more so out on the water.

Riding up the beach takes the sand to the next level. I am not sure we would have gone anywhere on the beach if we had brought all the gear. As it stands though it is manageable. If we stop its hard going getting started but once up to speed its fine.

The deep soft stuff

After riding up the beach a way we came to a dead end. Either the track continues on the waters edge or somewhere else. The tide is up so the creek crossings along the beach are up. We choose to head back a little way and up another track into the hills  in the hope that we can find the mountain spring that a some guys back down the beach told us of.

Fresh water spring fed creek. Paradise. Out of the wind and heat. Beautiful clear fresh water to drink and swim in. Drinking water in this landscape is…. liquid life.

This place really is a milestone for me. What a little gem. After eating we both headed off on foot to explore the boulder field. Following the stream back up into the rocks for a little way was fantastic.

Boulder landscape

Old Tree

orchid of some sort

Heading back out to camp was lots of fun again.

Mawson without side boxes back at camp amongst the white sand

It only took 40 minutes for us to get all the gear back on the bikes. I had actually taken the side boxes off Mawson. Even bolting them back on was pretty quick and we were on our way back out toward Wakooka in short order.

Once again the going was tough with most of the weight back on the bikes. Although we have used a good bit of fuel and a little food of course so the load is somewhat lighter. I fell off a few more times on the way out. Well once I think. But I came awful close a few more times. I amazed myself by managing to keep the bike upright and moving on several occasions when I had almost started to step off the bike, as I was sure I was going down. Almost like there was part of me that doubted the part of myself that was doing the driving. As odd as it sounds I think this doubt tends to take over in my riding as soon as the going gets a little tough. This both protects me and disables me.

Still I have been amazed just how well I have been able to ride my loaded bike though this deep sand. I have been choosing about 50km/h as the sweet spot in speed terms where you cruse over the top of the sand but if things go nasty hitting the sand is still reasonably soft.

Getting back out toward Wakooka I noticed my bike feeling like it was running rich again. Time to pull the air filter sock off.

The track from Wakooka toward Kapowar is pretty good and we made good time. Turning north again onto the Bathurst Heads track we made good progress for the first two thirds of the 45km track and then hit some challenging sand again. I dropped my bike again. None of these little “get offs” in the sand have done any damage at all that I am aware of. That is one good thing about the soft sand it is just that, soft. As long as the bike just tips over side ways the sand slows the bike quickly and you get thrown gently off.

The landscape and forest changed many times on the way in.

Heading out toward Bathurst Head

A really pretty ride.

Salt mud flats

We have stopped on a huge beach over looking Princess Charlotte Bay looking west toward the main peninsula which is off somewhere over the horizon.

Princess Charlotte Bay

A local resident

Camped

Fuelling up in Cooktown

Heading out of Cooktown we stopped in at the lookout where Cook once stood, surveying his predicament. He had got his boat stuck in a small inlet in the far north of Australia. Cook’s problem was the winds that had blow him in were not going to take him out again and he could not seem to find a way out through the many reefs and sand bars.

June 19^th 1770

COOK – “This afternoon I went upon one of the highest hills over the harbour from which I had a perfect view of the inlet or river and adjacent country which afforded a very indifferent prospect, the low lands near the river is all over run with mangroves among which the salt water flows every tide, and the high land appeared to be barren and stony”

June 30^th 1770

COOK – “In the am I went myself upon the hill which is over the south point to take a view of the sea, at this time it was low water and I saw what gave me no small uneasiness which were a number of sand bank or shoals laying along the coast; the innermost lay about 3 or 4 miles from the shore and the outermost extended off to sea as far as I could see with my glass, some just appeared above water. The only hopes I have of getting clear of them is to the northward where there seems to be a passage for as the wind blows constantly from the south east we shall find it difficult if not impractical to return to the southward.”

BANKS – “The ship was now finished and tomorrow being highest spring tide it was intended to haul her off, so we began to think how we should get out of this place, where so lately to get only in was our utmost ambition. We had observed in coming in innumerable shoals and sands all round us, so we went upon a high hill to see what passage to the sea might be open. When we came there the Prospect was indeed melancholy; the sea every where full of innumerable shoals, some above and some under water, and no prospect of any straight passage out. To return as we came was impossible, the trade wind blew directly in our teeth,; most dangerous then our navigation must be among unknown dangers. How soon might we again be reduced to the misfortunate we had lately escaped ! Escaped indeed we had not until we were in an open sea.”

Cook’s map of the inlet. The image below is from the bottom right hill looking West North West inland.

Small boats anchored in that inlet Cook once looked out upon

We topped up on fuel in Hope Vale and checked in with the local police. Our SPOT Connect is our emergency communications device should events turn bad. It is tested and working. We have a large amount of food that should keep us well fed for at least five days and keep us alive for two weeks or longer if needed. I am carrying 8L of water and Raman 6L. He has a water filter so we can drink basically any water we come across if necessary. We know there is water along the way from talking with the police. I have 46L of fuel and Raman has about 35L (he only has one fuel bladder, I have two).

Last little bit of bitumen out of Cooktown.

The track toward Starke station isn’t too bad. A little muddy from the rain but ok.

The road to Starke

Our first sand at the Starke River mouth

The beach at the mouth of the Starke

Lunch in behind the dunes. Starke River Mouth

North of the Starke the track gets smaller

And more rutted

Enjoyable riding.

Grass lands and white gums.

Raman tells me he is having a bad day. He doesn’t know why. He thinks everything is good but he is just feeling bad.

Getting to Wakooka in the mid to late avo feels exciting. We are close to Cape Melvile now and the tracks have been perfectly manageable. No sand to speak of yet.

Turning off the main track now and heading for Cape Melvile the track quickly becomes sandy and in places its hard to tell if its sand or bulldust. The latter is worse for two reasons, no matter how fast you go there is no skimming over the top and its powder fine dust that explodes everywhere as you sink into it. The absolute worst thing for my air filter. Fortunately there are only short sections like this, some of which can be avoided. The sand on the other hand isn’t so bad for the air filter as it doesn’t kick up as much unless you are falling off or trying to get started again. Once moving though the sand doesn’t get kicked up. The real challenge is staying upright. Getting moving in the deep loose sand is very hard going even with the tyres let down to 9psi (front) and 13psi (rear). The bikes get very hot.

The track to Cape Melvile is getting hard going but we are managing to ride in this stuff some how. I have no idea how I am doing it….

I stopped to check my air filter. My bike is really damn hot. I have to keep it running to keep the water circulating for a minute. The air filter does need changing.

In the heat of the hard work and challenge, Raman and I have an argument. Classic time to have short tethers I guess. And right when we need to be working as a team as best we can.

We are both stuffed. Picking my bike up when I drop it is only just possible for me if its up the right way. If its angling down hill I have to try to drag it around till it is facing up hill before I can lift it.  Even then its borderline manageable.

Raman heads off before me as I am still tinkering with my air filter.

I continue on my way, struggling in the deep sand. I dropped my bike upside down in a sand rut. Picking it up is a real effort. The track divides in many ways here as people attempted to go around the loose sand and in short order a new track has been formed with equally soft sand.

For those keen to get a feel for one of the most challenging rides on the Sunken Miles journey, the following video shows a little of the difficulty riding in deep sand.

Getting going again I happened to notice Raman by the side of the track that I happened to take with his tent set up.

I gladly stopped and set up my tent too.

Raman is not happy with me. I am not sure he really wanted to camp in the same place as me and I wonder what the hell would have happened if I hadn’t seen him. I get the distinct feeling he wouldn’t have stopped me if I had ridden past.

I find working as a team with Raman very challenging at times. When in these remote areas I have to admit I get a little shocked at time by his “autonomous” actions.

Basically our disagreements stem from a different way of going about life. I plan things, use reason and logic while he chooses his path with intuition, making choices from the heart in the moment.

Still, life has not separated us and all is well and I am grateful of that.

We are both quiet tonight and doing our own thing to a degree.

A hard day. I think I will take all my luggage off and leave it hear tomorrow for the rest of the way out to Cape Melvile as we must pass this way again on our way out to the main track at Wakooka.

Despite the challenges, my day has been great. I enjoyed the riding today and I am managing, amazingly, to ride this heavily laden beast in very deep and loose sand. Its hard, but I am managing. And the bike will be lighter every day as we use fuel and food.

Camp

Time to rest this weary body.

Left Ben’s in Mossman and headed north via the familiar Bloomfield track.

Huge Strangler Fig on the Bloomfield Track north of Cape Tribulation

Stopped at the Lion’s Den to take a picture of the amazing hanging flowers.

Plastic hanging flowers at the Lion’s Den…wait they aren’t plastic, they’re real! Gee the tropics has some amazing plants.

We had a dinner here with Donnie the night before he left when we stayed with Mark.

The Lyon with the Lion 

The black mountains between the Lion’s Den and Cooktown.

The weather in Mossman over the past few days has been windy and raining on and off. I thought this might change once we got past Black Mountain (the end of the wet tropics). This evening in Cooktown it is still blowing and the rain coming and going.

Tomorrow we set out on the longest and toughest leg of the trip. We will be between fuel and food stops for over 550km. The track will take us from Cooktown to Musgrave road house via Cape Melvile and Bathurst Heads. Many have assumed I am talking about the “Battlecamp Road”. I am not! We hear that much of the track is deep sand which means hard work for us and the bikes. We are looking at over 550km from Hope Vale (last fuel out of Cooktown) to Musgrave and some significant amount could be deep sand which could use a lot of fuel depending how we manage to ride the bikes. The less experience one has in the deep sand the slower one tends to go and that means sinking in rather than skimming over the top which means lots more sweating and horrible fuel economy. This leg of the trip is what I bought the fuel bladders for. I have used them moderately elsewhere but this leg I will be taking both 12L bladders full. We will need to carry lots of water and food too. The bikes will be the heaviest they have been for the whole trip and we will likely be face long miles of deep sand, something I have not experienced yet. Needless to say I have a little trepidation as well as the excitement of the adventure.

For now I must sleep to prepare my self for the days ahead.

While the adventurers are out of contact anyone can keep track of their route in real time using the Spot Connect website

Most “messages” just give a position but occasionally Oliver will add a short message (and can indicate an accident or other problem)

If you zoom in using the satellite image  rather than the map, you can see the nature of the country they are travelling through and generally see the rough tracks they are following.

Good fun for serious Sunken Miles neards (armchair adventurers)

David Holmgren (chief Sunken Miles neard

Thanks to Ben for putting us up in Mossman while we ordered parts for Raman’s bike and fixed our bikes.

New water pump housing installed

Before bottom view

Before top view

Raman’s SW Motec boxes reriveted together.

Time to head north again.

Who knows when we will be back in mobile range again.

Ready to hit the road after a good long stay with Ben in Mossman. Thanks Ben.

With parts on order in Cairns we have a few days to wait. We decided to head south toward Cairns. Having stayed the night with Mark( Donnie’s mate) after finishing the CREB , we wandered our way down the Bloomfield track, which is like a dirt highway after the CREB. All this jungle is here for a reason, because its wet, very wet. It started raining as we approached Cape Tribulation.

The Cape seemed like a nice enough spot so we found a camp site. I recall vivid stories of my fathers recounting his trip up the east coast as a youngster, hitch hiking around Australia. Those stories drew me to stay here at Cape Tribulation.

I recall one story of coconuts. I too wanted to drink from a coconut at Cape Tribulation. Raman climbed a very tall tree and got us our first nut.

Cape Tribulation Beach

The following day I ran into a girl we met in Eungella, Sara. She was as excited as we were about getting more coconuts and she took a few photos which really capture the experience.

Climbing

Cutting the the bunches

Some of the haul

there is nothing like it! 😀

Thanks for sharing this time with us Sara.

We got over 30 coconuts. There were plenty to share with our neighbours at our camp.

Heading up through some open grazing land just before the beginning of the CREB track

The first crossing of the day

At the first gate my glasses fogged up immediately. I partly lowered them to see over the top, closed the gate and followed Donnie and Raman into the jungle. The glasses began to unfog as I moved. The track was in shadow and was muddy. I had sun glaring in my eyes and as I reached up to push my glasses back up I got caught in a rut in the mud at about 15km/h and dropped the bike. The others were out of sight and sound ahead. I got my bike up and put my tripod in my backpack as one of its straps had broken off. The side box got a small dent as well. Otherwise I was ready to go again. I took the glasses off. The mud was slippery as butter however with two hands on the bars and proper vision I headed on wondering what the infamous “Big Red” (the biggest hill and most challenge part of the CREB apparently) would be like. “Gee this could be bad. Maybe the track is too wet”.

I came around a bend and up a hill a little further on to watch Raman attempt a hill and drop his bike.

The XT660 on its side on a muddy slope

I parked mine and went to walk up the hill to help hill. My feet were slipping! I tried walking sideways…I nearly fell over several times before I got up to him. We managed to pick the bike up and Raman got going again. He mentioned he had already gone done once before that he got on camera. I nearly hurt my back walking down the hill when I slipped. “Friggin hell, this is slippery”

I have to admit I was a little worried about getting up this one. Raman was gone. “Oh well, here goes”. I took a different line and got up fine.

Soaking it up

Donnie helping Raman pick his bike up after falling off on a big slippery rock while trying to cross the creek.

The side boxes are looking awfully banged up these days and the right box actually partly came off on this stack. I late found his phone in the creek too. It was off when it went it in. We’ll see if it works. I’d be very surprised. It was in there for perhaps 15 minutes.

Taking a break after the stack.

Raman noticed his water pump housing is broken. Oh damn! Poor Donnie, ahhh deary me.

The spot we are stopped in is really pretty.

The broken water pump

With some quicksteel and a few other odds and ends I have for such eventualities we patched the bike back together.

The Fix

Raman forgot to add water to the radiator (he did add water to the coolant tank) so it got pretty hot before he realised. Hopefully no damage.

The steepest hill on the CREB. Once at the bottom we discovered there is an alternate way that is more manageable. There is some footage in the CREB video below of Raman descending this hill.

A few other adventure riders we ran into on the CREB. Three Tasmanians riding DR650’s, the eldest being 67. Nice going.

Big Red wasn’t all that bad after all. No rock ledges and not that steep, just lots of clay that was moist. I can image it would have been bad if were any wetter!

Unfortunately Raman dropped his poor ol bike again an the fix broke. So fix number two. This time it wasn’t as elegant and didn’t seal priorly. Several hours and lots of fiddling later we got back on the track heading north with a slow leak that require topping up every little while.

Waiting for the second water pump fix

Finally we got out and headed up to Donnie’s mate, Mark, at Rossville. Raman called Yamaha in Cairns with the last five minutes of the day before 5pm. We are in luck, the part is in Australia and will be in Cairns by Monday (its Thursday evening).

A little of the CREB captured on video.