Trials and Tribulations on the Tanami

The weight of my bike was intimidating as I left the comparative metropolis of Yuendumu for the emptiness of the Tanami Desert. My trusty steed was fully loaded with enough food for over a week and maxed out with 22.5 litres of water. It would be a whopping 600 km to the next settlement of Bililuna.

The Rabbit Flat Roadhouse, about 300 km from Yuendumu closed over ten years ago and along with it a vital source of water for cyclists like me. I was hopeful that the Granites mine, about 260 km along the track from Yuendumu would offer me some water after having read some positive accounts from earlier bike tourists. I knew that I would otherwise be at the mercy of people traversing the Tanami in vehicles (Tanami Water Information).

I’d heard from my mate Tom that there are plans to fully seal the Tanami. It will completely change the dynamic of riding through this epic part of the Australian Outback. However, I suspect the desires of adventurous cyclists are quite far down the list of priorities for the NT and WA governments. There were roadworks for the first 50 km or so from Yuendumu suggesting that these plans are underway. 

corrugation (noun)
cor·​ru·​ga·​tion 
1: the act of corrugating
2: a ridge or groove of a surface that has been corrugated

It wasn’t long before the first of the infamous corrugations reared their arse jarring, bone rattling, bladder dislodging, bucking bronco simulating heads. At first it was quite funny as my bike and I were thrown up and down. I soon realised that trying to take on the corrugations at speed would quickly sap my strength and with such a heavy load, potentially result in a cracked frame.

At times my speed slowed to a grinding crawl. I would try to find the smoothest possible line weaving back and forth across the track. There was often nowhere to hide with shoulder to shoulder sandy ripples. More than once I cursed the ‘selfish’ drivers who had ruined the last slither of smooth dirt in their own quests for a less lumpy way through. Weren’t they thinking of the poor cyclists like me out here in the middle of nowhere?

There was nothing to do but grin and bear it. I reminded myself that I had chosen to be here, that my route was completely arbitrary and that this type of struggle was one of the reasons I am doing this adventure. I firmly believe that life wouldn’t be nearly as interesting if it were always easy.

The scenery flanking the road was changing. Trees were becoming much less common and I noticed the appearance of termite mounds that began to multiply by the thousands. Every now and again a road train would roll past, usually moving not much faster than me and announcing its presence with a booming rumble.

Finding a patch of ground devoid of spinifex was also becoming a challenge but with a little perseverance I would find a suitable spot. The weather was changing too – it was becoming noticeably warmer during the day. At night I would occasionally see a beacon of light in the distance. Ten minutes later a road train would lumber past, lights dotted along the semi-trailers like an amusement park ride. Quite an interesting sight in the darkness of the desert.

On my third day shortly before I got to the Granites Mine a friendly driver stopped for a chat. Vivienne was on her way back to the mine after some time off in Alice Springs. Workers usually fly into the mine’s airport but Vivienne had chosen to drive. She topped up my water and even gave me a bag of ice – what a legend! I pulled into the mine for a cheeky look and was greeted by another friendly face – Audrey who loaded me up with frozen electrolytes. Not a bad haul!

It didn’t cool down much overnight and the following day it felt like someone had cranked up the heat. It was only going to get hotter from here and I was thankful to have the extra electrolytes. A slight incline and a hot headwind made the corrugations even more challenging.

After a seriously tough first half of the day I noticed my rear tire seemed to be a bit soft. I gave it some air with my pump and continued on. Not much further down the road I felt a wobble towards the rear of the bike. I stopped to take a look and discovered sealant bubbling from a decent sized tear near the bead.

After a few failed efforts to repair the tear, I decided to swap it out for the spare tire I had lugged all the way from Melbourne. I wasn’t able to get the bead to seat which meant I would need to use a tube. Going back to a tubed set up left me feeling quite vulnerable as I had pulled quite a few tiny thorns from my tire already. It was a hard day in the saddle and I slept very deeply that night.

Onwards and upwards! I called into another mine that I had been told might be staffed. Caretaker Aaron met me at the gate and let me in to top up my water. A cook named Kathy was delighted to see a new face, offered me some lunch and even made me an AeroPress coffee. It was great to have a yarn and interesting to learn more about life working in a remote mine. 

Towards the end of the day I was given a few cold cans of soft drink by the generous Stewy & Moya – cheers folks! The track turned due west and after another long day on the Tanami I finally entered Western Australia. I was stoked to be in WA and looked forward to checking out some of its famous national parks. 

About halfway through my first day in WA, I noticed some dark smoke rising in the distance. I assumed it was a bushfire and would need to proceed with caution. As I got closer to the smoke I noticed an Aboriginal family sitting on the track beside their van. It looked like they had been there for a while with a tarp set up for shade. I asked if they needed water or food and what had happened.

Walter explained that they had run out of fuel the previous afternoon and were waiting for help from their hometown of Balgo, a community that forks off the Tanami. With no phone signal I offered the use of my Garmin InReach to send an SMS via satellite. I cooked us a big pot of rice, dehydrated peas and TVP. It was nice to share a meal and have a chat.

After an hour or so, a couple of utes appeared on the horizon. The drivers stopped and I explained the situation. The utes were en route to a prospective mining site and after some convincing on my part one of the drivers gave Walter enough fuel to get them home. I had encountered several vehicles coming from the opposite direction over the previous 24 hours. I wondered whether any of them had stopped to offer help. Walter and his family hadn’t flagged me down. But given the remote location I’d expect that passers-by would stop to check if everything was okay. I left the scene with mixed feelings and more questions than answers. 

Later I passed the bushfire I had seen earlier – the spinifex burned hard and fast whilst the fire seemed unable to penetrate the hearty bark of the desert eucalypts. A fascinating sight.

The following day I arrived in Bililuna. I was stoked to have made it through this extremely remote section of the trip and looked forward to an ice cold coke. Shout out to Chris for the bottle of frozen water whilst I waited outside the Community Store with some cheeky Aboriginal kids hyped up on a jar of Nutella.

I had read about a small body of water about 15 km south of Bililuna called Nyarna (Stretch Lagoon). I still had about 200 kms to go but the lagoon would be the perfect place to unwind and wash off some of the Tanami dust.