Day 33 – The end

The beauty, the beach and the Indian Ocean. Happiness.

http://www.justgiving.com/William-White4 

The city appears. Yes I did change my
shirt. Vanity is an illness.

So this is about as good as times can get. Am sat writing this sat in a café looking out over Cottesloe beach to the Indian Ocean beyond. The oh so yuppie Goji berry muesli was delicious, have a latte and chocolate brioche on the go, and nothing, absolutely nothing to worry about. No timetable, couldn’t care less that it sounds like the back wheel is finally buckling, and all my knees have got to do today is rest, and swim in the sea.

It’s just about as perfect a feeling as you can have. All the stress, worries, pain, screaming at the wind in the outback, flies, heat, motels and if I was honest, loneliness of it all, and it’s over. Not just over, but worth every sanity stretching minute of it. And, to my great satisfaction it’s over damn near on the target time of four and half weeks.

Looking back at a great,
if grey, view.

Out of habit, more than design, I was wide awake by 04:30, and outside the funny lodge place I stayed at last night by 05:50, looking mournfully at the sky. Rather than the milky grey and pastel pink of a clear pre-dawn, there was a huge black cloud pressing down on the city. It was humid as hell to boot.

Clear and crisp it was not to be. Within 2 miles I was forced to take cover in a bus shelter as the first Perth rain since December came down heavily. Sat in a graffiti strewn bus shelter looking at a dreary commercial park was not quite the dream, but it gave me half an hour to sit there and take in what was actually happening.

Luckily once the shower passed, that was it. The short 20 mile odd ride just got better and better. Almost entirely on cycle paths, for the first time all trip I was plugged in to iphone and thumping through the miles to a soundtrack.

So great a view in fact, I put my ugly
mutt in front of it

As the tower blocks of downtown came into view I was joined by a wonderfully eccentric old grandfather in board shorts and T-shirt of the dude from the Big Lebowski. Unlike the lycra clad MAMILs hammering it to work, he seemed to have all the time in the world. He was great company, guided me through downtown past besuited office workers frowning their way to their desks, and on down to the Swan River and the bike path towards the coast. He then just waved me on my way and disappeared.

Moody boat shed

The ride out to the coast zig zagged through cycle paths and back roads. Today was not a race against time. Then as Chase and Status’ Alive came through the earphones, I came over the brow of a hill and there in front of me was the Indian Ocean as far as you could see. It felt epic, really properly awesome. It’s a feeling of bodily relief and utter bemusement that somehow I’ve made it. You spend months and weeks dreaming about this view, and suddenly it’s there in front of you.

Striking quite a pose at the Ocean

Have then just spent a couple of hours wandering up and down the beachfront in a happy muddled bubble. It’s harder mentally, than physically, to pull the brakes on. Really hasn’t sunk in. Have to keep telling  myself that it’s really done. I really don’t have to be on a bike after breakfast, after lunch, tomorrow, next week. It’s done.

2,465 odd miles, two punctures (oddly both on the same day), one snake spotted, no spiders that I'm aware of, two shot knees, a burnt nose, more flies than stars in the sky, more motel, hotel and roadhouse meals than you should ever eat, miles of road trains, caravans, vans, utes, mountains, deserts, plains, hills, hot hot days after beautiful crisp bush mornings, kangaroos (dead and alive), emus, parrots, funny friesian magpies, so much gloriously terrible municipal art, two stripped tyres, one very untrue back wheel and so much else besides. And it's done, all done.

However before signing off would like so say some thank yous.

Cottesloe Beach, a good place to be

Thank you to everyone who has donated so far. Your donations will go towards the excellent work the MS Trust do to support those affected by MS. If you were waiting for me to finish, then the Just Giving site is still open - http://www.justgiving.com/William-White4 . Thank you for any donations, big or small.

Cutting a pose with a
vast cushion sculpture. Pass

Thank you to Mike and Claire, Tom, Emily and family, Charles and Kay, and Roger and Di for letting me stay. Helping set me on my way and letting me stay at their homes rather than motels for a few nights, has meant more than I think they realise.

Thank you to everyone who's read my dyslexic rambling on this, then emailed, texted or messaged. People wishing you on is vital on a trip like this. You have spurred me on more than you know.

Appropriate sculpture at the
end of Cottesloe jetty

Whilst doubt they’ll ever read this, thank you to every trucker, caravaner, holiday maker, car driver, ute driver, bus driver, you name it, who waved, tooted, offered sweets and water out the windows, teased me in roadhouses, wished me luck and generally willed me on my way.

This is one, huge, hot, wonderful, weird at times, brilliant, dusty, beautiful, and kind country. Its people are its heart. It’s been one of the great privileges of my life to have a chance to see Australia like this. The warmth and kindness of the Aussies, has been the quiet constant tailwind of this whole ride.

Muesli, bike outside, the
ocean. All is good.

So that’s it. It’s been a proper experience, worth every inch of pain. Tough, epic, and more than a little emotional. Just can’t really believe I’ve got away with it.

Today is a good day.

Miles: 19 – Guildford – Perth – Cottesloe

Breakfast – Pain au Chocolat and a coffee en route. Then Goiji berry muesli, chocolate brioche, latte, and apple juice with all the brunching mothers at Il Lido in Cottesloe. After weeks of corn flakes on a tray in motel rooms, this is bliss. Pure yuppie bliss.

p.s. Hope you can forgive the indulgence of peppering my mug all over this post, but just occasionally you feel ok about doing this kind of thing.

Day 31 & 32 – The end is, literally, in sight

In the final hour cycling today got to see the first sky scrappers since Sydney, 31 days ago. May sound stage to eulogise about, but it was a hell of a thing. Charging down the severe four mile hill from Mundaring to Midland 20 miles off in the haze could see flashes of downtown Perth off through the trees.

Will be glad to get rid of
this little tan line.

I’d have stopped to take a picture, but with multi ton trucks careering down the hill hardly under control both ahead and behind me, no shoulder to speak of, a Cheshire cat grin from ear to ear, and misty eyes (Which for the sake of pride I’m going to attribute to the 42mph I hit downhill, rather than any emotions I may’ve felt) had rather a lot to deal with. Stopping for a snapshot was not really an option.

It was a great great feeling. I’m almost there. Perth CBD, then 10 odd more miles to the Indian Ocean. In fact the day’s been genuinely awesome since Mundaring. I’m a city boy at heart. I love it as you start to feel the gravitational pull of a big city appear all around you, as the flashiness and fussiness of city living starts seep in go the towns you’re riding through.

You notice the big city/country threshold much more clearly on a bike. And it’s always more sudden than you expect, never more so than here. 40 miles of the day was basically more weary dusty looking farm villages much closer in spirit to the miles and miles of outback to the east than the global city just a short hop over the hills to the west.

Illustrative only. Seen
lots and lots of this. Fun

Then bang, cycle routes, twee cafes, food chains, the lot. Not seen anything like this in four weeks. Will get onto why I’ve not charged straight into the city centre screaming “I’m home…..I’ll take a tall skinny mocha quinoa kale cold pressed smoothie to go,” but first lets cover off the last two days.

They have been ying and yang. Yesterday was 100 miles of cycling bliss in the sun-kissed, rolling wheatbelt, whilst today was half the distance and twice the pain, grinding through the hot sticky hills that seal Perth off against the Indian Ocean.

Trusting the weather report I was up late yesterday and not out riding till 07:30. For once laziness paid off. The wind hammered square up my backside all day. It’s like having someone push you for 10 hours. Think the hills really were lower than the day before, but they all felt like a breeze. With villages and small towns every 15 miles, the only thing slowing me up is think I still may be a little traumatised from the Nullabor. Had to stop myself stopping a every shop. And not only because you start to feel wired on that many sugary drinks.

It wasn’t quite as beautiful as Monday, but there is a still that grandeur to this landscape of vast wheat fields fringed with trees. Sure if the wind had been in my face I’d be saying it was bleak, grim and tedious, but with nature’s push, the temperature right down and the sun beaming it was blissful cruising.

Northam pub looking deceptively
nice at 07:30

Was actually glad the farm homestay I’d tried to organise fell through. Was enjoying pushing hard on to the larger town of Northam. That was till I actually got to Northam. First from the slope coming into town got my first view of the hills that would make today such a hot tedious chore, and then there is the town itself. What to say. Close enough to Perth to know it is tired, weary and scruffy, unlike the towns deep in the outback that wear the look with a rural pride. The only, and very tired looking Motel was full, so I was back in the pub rooms.

The Commercial was the least beaten up of a bunch that all looked like they’d gone eight rounds. Inside it was like all rural “hotels” (as the pubs are known). Serving the functions of doss house, pub, cheap café, betting shop, and restaurant all at once, all under strip lights, surrounded by peeling walls.

Doesn't look much, but
those hills killed

The land lady to be fair was lovely. Ashamed to say I made a snap judgement based on her facial tattoos, but once she started talking she had one of the kindest smiles and the most welcoming manner I can remember. You could see she had been quite a looker in her day. Tough as boots with the rowdy customers, but with an air of sadness about her you got the impression was the result of that smile and manner, not in spite of it, which is all the sadder.

Was rather taken by her, even if her description of the room as “beautiful” was wildly wide of the mark. It smelt and looked like the plastic under sheet they’d kindly included, was more a reflection of reality, than an unnecessary precaution. The shower screen was smashed, the TV didn’t work and I have weird bug bites all over my body today. I’ll be glad when places like this are not part of my existence, even if you do see a side of life in those bars, that once you’ve got past your initial prejudices is rich in heart and humour.

Normal life againg, I resisted both and
Maccers. Feel strong

Today by comparison has been mostly gritty, till the glorious end outlined above. Everyone had told me the hills just outside Perth would be tough. They were not exaggerating. It was sharp hill after sharp hill, hour after hour, never giving my shot knees a chance to recover.

Up late and keen to get out of Northam in a hurry, forgot to have breakfast. The first 10 miles was grind your teeth hard running on fumes. First shop I found only had microwave pies. So stocked up on a steak and kidney pie things did improve slightly, but it’s degrees of pain. The temperature was rapidly up pushing the 40C end of the 30s, and the humidity was sapping.

When there was hard shoulder life was tough going, but liveable. Shift down into the granny gear, and just plod up at 5 or 6 mph. However WA has continues to be erratic on where and when they tarmac their shoulders. It would suddenly run out for the odd mil here or there, and my rhythm would be broken and I’d find myself trudging up the dirt beside the road pushing the bike. Walking at this point felt galling. Sure the scenery was fine, but whenever I got the sweat out my eyes not sure I ever remember looking up and being blow away, till the hill down from Mundaring.

First open bike shop in
1,800 miles

May sound silly, but getting to the bottom into the town of Midland and past the first open bike shop since Mildura in Victoria, three weeks ago, suddenly hit me, I really am going to do this. Anything can blow now, I can lose any tools, any spare parts. I’m back in a world where you can walk to the next local bike shop. Whatever happens in the last 20 miles, the mechanical issues with the bike, always the biggest fear, can’t stop me. It is a special kind of relief that only comes from pent up fears days in the making.

So why stop 20 miles short of the finish. After weeks of the weather, mechanical issues, and physical strains dictating your plans, you become a little obsessive about controlling how it all finishes. Just didn’t want to arrive at the beach rushed, flustered and sweaty in the bleached out sunlight of mid afternoon sun or into the storms that are still looking threatening this evening. Sunrise rides are what have been so special about this trip, so that’s how I want it to end. In the cool, crisp morning. Can’t (insert swear word) wait.

Miles: 100 Merredin – Kellerberin - Northam

Miles: 49 – Northam – Mundaring – Guildford

Breakfast

Tuesday – Standard, in the motel café, with a contractor in work overalls who insisted on burping in a pro-actively uncouth way for the whole meal. He did get into a truck that had a huge sticker saying “Effluent Happens” on it, so half forgave him

Wednesday – Steak and Kidney pie, don’t knock it, was rather good at that time in the morning

Lunch

Tuesday – Chicken and Avo baguette in Kellerberrin. Very good

Wednesday – Got all my meals up the spout, so technically two Fanta slushies at 12:00 and a spinach and feta sausage roll in the bakery here at 17:00 (all they had left)

Dinner

Tuesday – Satay chicken fried rice from the Malaysian takeway. Not going to win awards, but reasonable

Wednesday – Caesar salad – Woodbridge pub. Good and the pub is done up for city people. Am a happy boy

Thank you again

Thank you very much to everyone who kindly donated yesterday.

All donations to the excellent work the MS Trust do are hugely appreciated.

This is the link again to the just giving page:

http://www.justgiving.com/William-White4

Thank you in advance

Day 30 – Not a whole lot to say

A sign of civilisation. Praise be.

Going to keep this brief, as their isn’t a great deal lot to cover. 68 rolling miles, with the wind firmly behind me, villages every 15 miles or so, temperature hovering at a high of 30C, barely a cloud in the sky, few sharp hills, and beautiful countryside to boot. Sweating and swearing away in the outback days like this had been the dream. It didn’t disappoint, talking about it just doesn’t make great copy.

I’d made it to the rather agricultural town of Merredin and the first branch of Subway in over 1,300 miles by 14:00 (to be clear only went there because almost everywhere else was shut on a Monday. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it).

It’s been a busy afternoon fighting a bit of a battle to try to get my final plans for Perth into order. Frustratingly having hoped for a Wednesday finish, come to the conclusion it will now have to be Thursday. Can’t really face writing out the details of why, but the logistics just don’t work for Wednesday.

Bar that not a lot to say, other than have discovered I’m riding alongside the longest pipeline in the world. Called the Golden pipeline, no less. Not sure if this is interesting, or just factual, but there is little doubt it’s an impressive feat. I’ve been riding along side it for three days solid now.

Had assumed it was something to do with all the wheat farming round here, but a little half arsed googling tells me it supplies the goldfields back East of Coolgardie. Something new everyday, and not always something interesting.

Miles: 68 – Southern Cross – many little villages proudly announcing on their welcome signs some gloriously banal historic wheat related fact unique to each location – Merredin (favourite wheat fact on a welcome sign was the hamlet that proclaimed it had produced the largest wheat stack in Western Australia....in the 1929 season. There's something defiantly heroic in celebrating information this irrelevant)

Breakfast – Standard

Lunch – Subway Chicken foot long. Yes please.

Dinner – Some rather rank chicken pasta dish, the motel had not cooked well.

Day 29 – Happy days with the desert storm trooper

Lad

http://www.justgiving.com/William-White4

Great times. Final day out in the bush, and caught up with the man I’ve heard about since before Sydney. You’ve got to be happy that you live on planet Earth at a time when something like this exists. If you look at the picture above and don’t love the pure genius of a man who makes a stupid bet then, sod everything, goes and follows through with it to spend 18 months of his life walking round Australia dressed like a Storm Trooper, then you may want to consider seeking professional help. This is pure joy.

Happy days

He’s called Scott, a 45 year old from Melbourne. He is 9 months in, aims to raise AU$100k for a Children’s hospital and has cheered up more people than you can count. Amazingly he’s also a really normal decent bloke. Not a nutter, not a bore, just a normal bloke who made a silly plan, then for once went right ahead and did it. Simple as that. People like this make the world a better place to live in. Hero.

Meeting him was a midday treat on a cracking day’s riding. There’s not a lot to write about in terms of the landscape. Till the last five miles it was just 110 miles of outback road, telephone pylons on the left, water pipe on the right, then thick bush as far as you can see. No human life off the ribbon of tarmac, but the hills, the wind and the heat were all down, meaning I could truck through mile after mile at a good steady pace.

11hrs of the day

Main reason today was so great is it was my final bush day. Five miles from Southern Cross dense scrub and trees suddenly cleared and I was out onto the vast bleak fields of the Wheatbelt, the 250 mile wide doughnut of intensive agriculture that insulates Perth from thousands of miles of bush and desert in all directions.

Farms, fields, villages, human life. It’s been two weeks and over a 1,000 miles since I saw anything like this. If my slightly over emotional reaction was anything to go by I’ve been missing the human touch far more than I’d realised.

Getting here to Southern Cross is also the final big milestone before Perth. From here on the ride is basically supported. Villages, towns, shops, petrol stations, everything you need to get through the ride come up every 10 or 20 miles. The 95 mile crossing from Coolgardie to Yellowdine (20 miles short of here) was the final of the trip. It’s been enjoyable and challenging being this remote, but am done with it now, and just keen to fire on into Perth.

Big enough drill piece for
a police escort. Nice

Five straight days riding at 100 miles or more having risen at 04:00 has definitely taken it’s toll. My legs are shot and I’m feeling properly tired. As a result, have decided to reroute into Perth, taking in a half day tomorrow before pushing hard for Cottisloe beach for the final two. The end is definitely in sight, just don’t want to blow it with an injury now.

Only slight dampener on the day is as Perth gets closer the roads are noticeably fuller, even though the roads themselves are still pretty rough and ready. There’s still no hard shoulders. With heavier traffic some people are are cutting it too way too fine, leaving me spluttering in red dirt strips more than once every hour. It’s unnerving and a little draining concentrating that hard on the mirror for hours on end.

Wheatbelt good times (1)

But this is a minor glitch in a good news day. And to top it off have a rather geeky brag to share, with between 230 and 240 miles to Perth, either last thing today or the first thing tomorrow I’ll have ridden further than the 2013 Tour de France in only five days longer than it took Chris Froome et al, which is rather satisfying.

Miles: 116 – Coolgardie – Yellowdine – Southern Cross

Breakfast – Standard (which btw is cereal and peanut butter toast with coffee in case I never spelt it out)

Wheatbelt good times (2)

Lunch – Someone (thanks AW) pointed out by email that I may have got a little OCD about chicken sandwiches for lunch, so went for beef and chutney today. Change is a good thing. Plus S&V crisps and a some beef jerky, healthy.

Dinner – It’s Sunday so everything’s closed in town. Had the yummy beef teriyaki trekkers freeze dried pack in my room. Eaten with a plastic tea spoon on a motel bed it’s a rather depressing way to live. Roll on Perth.