After 3,056kms I’ve made my first destination, Burketown at the bottom of the Gulf of Carpentaria.

I guess I should explain that one of the “points” of this trip is NOT to race from point to point, but to take time to explore the places and people of interest that cross my path.

To this end it was highly appropriate that my first stop was to visit Mandy and Simon Gilbert in Mudgee. Simon is one of Australia’s most respected wine makers and Mandy is the daughter of Geoff Benness the inspiration and patron Saint of my expedition. It’s also worth noting that my arrival coincided with that of Mandy and Simon’s second grandson!

From Mudgee I travelled to Lightening Ridge via Gulargambone (yes there really is a place called that), and Coonamble (the ancestorial home of my great mate Tim Koster). It’s obvious the tide has gone out at a number of these regional towns and the main streets are testament to former days of population and prosperity.

Why Lightning Ridge you might ask, it wasn’t exactly on my route but ever since watching some of the reality series Australia’s Opal Hunters I’d had an interest in seeing it? After getting there I was asking myself the same question, I think the TV show presented a false impression and it’s reputation outweighs the reality. Not much to see here other than what seems to be a giant human ant farm and a lot of people looking for something to do.

Anyway, after unintentionally waking up in a layby on the outskirts of town under the watchful gaze of Stanley the giant emu made of old car parts it was time to hit the road, onward to Bourke and beyond.

At the Goodooga turn off I was alarmed to find the “bra tree”, and not to be outdone, next to it the rather second rate “jock tree”. My alarm was more to do with the imagined discomfort the respective donors would have felt travelling these very bumpy roads than any sense of moral outrage.

Bourke and the Darling river seem to have a legendary status in terms of our inland history, and the fact that an old school mate, John Kissner’s family owned a pub in Bourke back in the day made a detour into town essential. It’s fair to say that Bourke, like so many other of our inland towns, is a shadow of it’s former glory. In it’s heyday it boasted seven pubs, now there a sole survivor and nobody seems to remember the Kissner’s or their pub, but on further enquiry Marc Scamps, another old school mate and good friend of John’s, came to the rescue and sent me an old photo of the Federal Hotel, the Kissner’s pub in 1909 The fact that John now lives in London seems to tell the story of so many sons of the west!

The first time I’d ever heard the name Cunnamulla was many moons ago when I met a young lady named Jocelyn who said she came from there. Over the intervening 45 years Jo and I have enjoyed a sporadic friendship and after a typical six year hiatus I contacted her to say that I’d be passing through her old home town. This is another important aspect of this trip for me, a catalyst to reach out to friends who I have lost contact with and reconnect. Already it amazing how many people I have reconnected with and how this in turn leads to new connections and suggestions of people to meet and places to see.

Jo recommended a special place on the banks of the Warrego where she had spent many happy youthful days, and I was lucky enough to spend a night there and witness a sunset over the Warrego which is a quintessentially Australian experience.

From Cunnamulla to Longreach via Charleville is a long haul through increasingly barren country, my first real tase of the timelessness and scale of the outback. After a long day in the saddle my first impressions of Longreach were not great. It seems to me it’s trying too hard to become a tourist mecca with the Qantas Founders Museum and the R M Williams Stockman’s Hall of Fame prime examples of this. I guess you can’t blame them for trying but it all seemed a bit confected and out of character to me and on checking the fact that Qantas actually started in Winton seemed to add to the veneer of inauthenticity.

One redeeming feature was a great bar / restaurant called The Branch where I had an excellent dinner and breakfast, it’s owned by a local couple who believe in the fact that if you offer good food, great ambience and attentive staff they will come. Good to see a level of sophistication and quality can thrive in an outback town, rather than relying on the same old tired outback theme. Highly recommended!

In truth my attitude toward Longreach wasn’t improved by a chance encounter with a kangaroo who had a bruising introduction to Max and a cracked windscreen thanks to a passing road train, both incidents appropriately enough happening on Friday 13^th!

Another long stretch lay ahead on the way to Cloncurry via the afore mentioned Winton, which, in addition to Qantas lays claim to the fact that it was at a property with the unfortunate name of Dagworth Station on the outskirts of town that Banjo Patterson wrote Waltzing Matilda, and in tribute to this the highway that runs from Longreach to Cloncurry via Winton is called the Matlida Way. Of more interest to me is the fact that Winton is the dinosaur capital of Australia, and looking at the surrounding landscape it’s no surprise they became extinct!

A highlight on the Matilda Way is the Blue Heeler pub at Kynuna, this unexpected oasis coincided with arising thirst and as an unsung classic outback pub it takes some beating and somehow the tattered XXXX banner on the rooftop sign seems appropriate, and it’s worth a visit. Much more authentic than it’s more the famous Walkabout Creek “Crocodile Dundee” hotel up the road at McKinlay, which is also with a visit, but if you only have time for one beer make it at the Blue Heeler and enjoy reading some of the graffiti on the bar room walls.

Pulling into McKinlay I met a couple and their dogs who have been travelling for over twenty years, they left home in Melbourne and simply never went back. When asked where they were going the answer was predictable…wherever! The spirit of Ken Kesey and the Merry Pranksters lives on in the Magic Bus!

As luck would have it I arrived in “The Curry” on one of the biggest social occasions of the year – The Cloncurry Cup (although as far as I can tell they seem to run this several time a year?). It seemed like there were about five time the population of the town in attendance and they’d had a great day which was extending into the Saturday night at the pub! The local lasses had made a big effort with the race day wardrobe, and even some of the guys had lashed out and bought a new pair of thongs.

After waiting over two hours for my dinner I gave up and went back to Max to share a can of baked beans. I suspect there might have been a few sore heads in the Curry that Sunday, but for me it was onward and upward – Burketown or bust!

The final stretch to Burketown was a relatively easy 450km run via the appropriately named Four Ways and Gregory. Like the previous 1,000 or so Kms the road was dominated by disappearingly long straights followed by apparently random bends, one of which had recently claimed a road train which had rolled, fortunately the driver seemed ok and gave me a friendly wave as I hesitatingly made my way past (I didn’t have the heart to take a photo). The other noticeable feature was a stretch where they had designated it as an emergency runway! Taking note and keeping my eyes peeled for low flying aircraft I headed on to the Gregory Downs Hoey Moey for a very late lunch, the only option being a ham and pickle sandwich which was remarkably good and which would never have been my choice if I’d had an option.

On the approaches into Burketown I kept a close eye on the clouds in case a first ever Evening Glory should materialise, which it didn’t but I did manage to catch a classic FNQ sunset. I’d arrived at the end of the beginning and couldn’t help feeling it had been a bit of a race to get here, which was NOT the point! As I suspected, the biggest challenge for me on this trip will be to slow down and enjoy the ride!