Day 69 | Where else? Carnarvon: finding other things to do

rest day

CGAOB, the Crazy guy on a bike website, first popped up on my desktop screen as I was contemplating my own trans-Australian ride almost exactly 3 years ago.

I became engrossed, mostly while I might well have been doing other things.

I was immediately sucked into the exploits of the long term touring stars of the day, Victor Weinreber, (before he turned into a Cactus), Jeff Kruys, etc. They were just out there, doing it, month after month, their own personal adventure, sounding enticing.

I also read some of the older journals, page by page, one of the key being Ryan Conaughty’s who had a list of his own outstanding journal recommendations. All great, but Shane Keating’s Off is a standout, filled with insecurities and personal discoveries.

Mostly these journals are such great reading because they paint a bigger context, not just a bike trip from A to B but oblique dissertations on friendship, love, loneliness, family, finding a place in the world, discovering a world beyond the suburbs, etc. There’s a common pattern, mostly, of personal growth and excitement in immersing in a new “real” world outside old boundaries. It’s, usually, beyond the simple experience of turning those cranks.

During those last months in Melbourne as I wound down my life, counting down the days, I followed from the early stages a few just embarking on a long ride, soon to be stars. Their daily updates gave scope for my own dreaming and scheming.

Keith Hallagan’s slow ramble, halfway round the world, did he really average about 12km a day for 3 years, has a similar philosophy to my own travels, use the bike to see the world and meet its inhabitants however strange, or similar, it all may prove to be.

Aidan Pedreschi takes this approach to its gonzo extreme, fitting in with the locals, his reluctant use of guns remains the single funniest situation I’ve read on CG. But not for the vegetarians.

On the other hand David Holmes, more your cycling puritan, managed to cycle 60,000km on 4 continents while I was mooching across Australia.

Somehow I felt particular affinity for the randomish wanderings of Wayne Maurer, another fly in a bottle traveller, and man, finding true love out there on the trail, I hope it worked out, it’s always concerning when someone’s journal halts when they are stationed in unknown territory, maybe his laptop was nicked.

The common denominator for all these multiple tales is the solo traveller thing, it might be more fun to travel in a group/pair but it often makes for turning down the dial on introspection, although as soon as I write that I’m aware of the obvious, (often honeymoon), exceptions.

Actually there’s something else in common with them all: they were set for the long haul. Most were over 500 nights out, Jeff almost cracking 1600, mostly stealth camping, you could get involved with the excitement, disappointments, crises, the shear thrill, you really got to know them, their lives, hopes and dreams, because these blogs reveal a whole lot more than you initially imagine. (Yikes. Now I’m worried about my own.)

The journals that most interest me are often travelling through mundane landscapes that probably bore the speedy car travellers intensely but provide fewer distractions for those who are self propelled. That boredom brings out a more introspective, philosophical, side, or, gives space for descriptions of the whacky characters/situations, intense conversations with people met 5 minutes previously or acts of unprovoked kindness. In the end there’s much less interest in how steep those hills were, 100 mile days, what people ate, etc.

Hanging out in Carnarvon for a week with my own power outlet, adjacent to the bed, has given me time to reacquaint myself with a few of my own hidden gems:

Olski Bololski clearly deserves his rating as the most consistently funny journal on CG, a meditation on overcoming perverse situations and friendship. I even like his (non) journey to Spain.

Carsten Hoefer avoids travelling to the usual traps, instead Visiting Dracula. His tales of travels to less frequented parts left me licking my lips for more.

Sarabeth Matilsky’s First Journey is a huge inspiration for anyone needing to assuage initial fears of bike touring and is a touching tale for even an old cynic like myself. Reckon it’s the best, most uplifting, most complete, coherent, story out of CG’s 6000 journals. Overcoming doubts, mostly about herself, finding love, albeit with the first guy she ever kissed. And she makes the least fuss of mountain pass climbing of anyone here.

Marcus Mcshane, and East into the badlands, well, who can’t warm to a story of a relationship breakup, a period of chronic contemplation mostly alone in a foreign country, then a soppy ending. Sharp, perceptive view of America, with not an insignificant level of nostalgia welling up for good ol NZ.

There’s a couple of journals from Australia that also catch my imagination.

Warren Hudson with his Several Trails in the Australian Alps revealed a part of Australia, and the more rugged end of bike touring, than is common. It’s a considered aimlessness, aimed at simply at experiencing the offerings of the landscape, I’m sort of halfway there with my own travels, but then again I might have had similar fun traversing the less than highway experience Gregory National Park.

Michael Rodgers intersected with Wazza in some remote hut on his Big Nasty Track. I’ve real admiration for the true masochists of the bike touring genre, averaging less than 2km/hour, ie half walking speed some days on his 39 day true adventure.

The benchmark, of course, remains Neil’s original journey, the documentation of his ride has many imitators but few with the wit and insight to equal it.