The beads of sweat were forming now, his concentration absolute and all around him time seemed to slow. Sounds were absent from his consciousness except for the big V-twin that was alive, like a wild beast, looking to bite the very hand that fed it. A tight right-hand turn across the face of the hill, leading into an immediate climb. Get it right and he would sleep well tonight. Get it wrong and he would experience immediate pain and suffering, until the cartwheeling 950, which would inevitably follow, came swiftly to provide
a merciful knockout blow. The decision was made. With a slight, ever so slight, twist of the grip, man and machine inched forward. A sense of euphoria washed over his mind and soul at the thought that he would indeed survive the gauntlet, but just then, his world imploded! The Pirelli squirmed, breaking free of its precarious bite on mother earth. The big beast spun up and forward motion halted. Then slowly, ever so slowly, gravity took hold and doomed our man to a downward trajectory. He scrambled for ground and finding none, fell, fell with a crushing blow that knocked what seemed like all life and being from his worthless (and overweight) body. Was that the fabled light he now saw? Should he go towards it? Should he have had paid more homage at the altar of the orange god? No....Craig, as the Cannonball Charity's lead rider, this is a pink tutu and it's what you get for crashing your bike in the driveway before even starting what will become an epic 3,500km ride from Toowoomba to Tassie!!
Yep, this year's ride, like those before it, would become a journey of self-discovery, not just a dirt bike ride to the edge of the world (literally), but a journey of the mind. Just how far and fast can a 950 be jumped at the beckoning of the little evil one known as Dave, before it would end in tears? Or, in fact, how many tears would Ryan shed, while his WR250 seat was removed from his butt after he completed the first day's 10hr, 650km leg? Or, indeed, after finding no red wine in Queenstown with a vintage of more than 12mths, how would Allan make do in such primitive surroundings? Everyone would have a story to tell - this is mine.
Back in 2006, on the return from a ride to Cape York, a decision was made to go into running long distance adventure rides for those that craved adventure but were time poor and needed someone else to scour the maps to sort an interesting route, provide backup support, great catering and first class medics. All this, of course, without removing any of the excit ement of riding a dirt bike (big or small) over long distances with lots of challenges. Katie Warfield decided she would take on this task and raise some much needed coin for the Endeavour Foundation in the process. Since then, an ever-growing group of 'Cannonballers' have done some amazing rides including, 'Up the Middle' (Mt Isa to Normanton and back) in '07, 'Across The Top' (Cairns to Bro ome) in '08 and now this one, to the Edge of the World in '09. But this, like other rides, was no cappuccino sucking affair, with all riders expected to get in and get their hands dirty to keep the whole train moving when bikes broke, riders disagreed with table drains or luggage trailers needed packing. Yep, this is the Cannonball Charity Ride 2009 - Toowoomba to Tasmania!
Day 1
Starting at about 8am, WIN TV in Toowoomba turned up to support Endeavour and do the official wave-off for our brave group from the workshops. The sun was shining as the 130 or so guys and gals of the Endeavour workshops lined the street, waving and cheering the tutu-clad Craig as he led 21 riders out onto the street and into the first corner...then back again...to take the marked corner. Ah yes, this navigation thing was going to take some getting used to if we were to make Tassie in nine days time. Some time, and many, many corners later, with dark approaching, riders pulled into Baradine, 650kms of dust, corrugations and thousands of flies later. At the riders, briefing the previous night, Katie had been right, the first day was gonna be a doozie. Those who had played up at the bar during the welcome dinner the night before had a quick feed and slinked off to their rooms to be up at 4.30am (thanks, daylight saving) to do air filters and chains before the next day's assault.
Day 2
The group moved out early to meet up again for lunch at the Rabbit Trap Hotel, after spreading out to let the dust settle between riders. The day's riding was again to be fast sweeping gravel roads, where there was plenty of time to practice feet-up slides into and out of the 90 degree bends around paddock corners. For Mark (the sweep), much amusement was had by looking at the skid marks coming out of the corners as he knew those up front were have a whale of a time. Even more entertaining were the skid marks going into the corners where it was evident that, for some, perhaps speed was overtaking ability! Wherever you looked, the land looked baked and the drought was certainly biting hard on our country cousins. However, country hospitality still remains top notch and every little town that we stopped in continued to welcome us with open arms. Having Endeavour branded over everything certainly helps, given that some of the party were not the most attractive to the eye. The overnight stop for today was Lake Cargelligo which, to my mind, was just bizarre. In the midst of all this desolate country was a huge natural lake. Apparently, I’m not the only explorer to think this as, in 1817, John Oxley (a real explorer), who found the place said, "We were most agreeably surprised with the sight of a very fine lake ... the noble lake before me gave a character to the scenery highly picturesque and pleasing." See, just like I said... bizarre.
Day 3
Things were now starting to get a bit more serious as we headed to a place noted in the route sheet simply as Whistle Stop. However, today also proved not so good for me, as for the first time in 30 years of riding dirt bikes, the chain snapped and on the way out, despite a case saver, took my hydraulic clutch master cylinder with it. It was on to Jumby's backup ute within about 10 minutes of the incident happening. Jumby is a pretty keen rally driver in his spare time and always seemed to appear on the spot just when an incident occurred. With my bike now on the ute and probably going faster than when I was riding it, I was relegated to Vanessa's sweep vehicle, which being the latest top of the range Landcruiser Sahara with leather seats and air-conditioning, was kinda nice if you gotta go by tin top. The group itself pressed on. Matt, who was in from India for the ride and who would go on to win the title of 'King Cornerman', cranked his DR650 to warp speed and roared through the pack to have the pleasure of sitting on the next corner, where he would simply repeat the process like clockwork. Jeromy (Qld) on his Kato 450 mixed it up with Matt (SA) on his XR 400 and Ryan (WA) lurked in the undergrowth on his WR250 with helmet camera on, just waiting for the next unsuspecting rider to overshoot the corner and think, wrongly, that they had got away with it unseen. With tanks fuelled up in Wagga Wagga, the ride entered the hills out the back of Humula and Tumbarumba with the best riding to date. Steep inclines and triple cautions on the route sheet meant the small bikes were back and punching hard - not the place you want to be in a sweep vehicle. Emerging into some wide-open paddocks, a strange sight was beholden, that of a train very much off its tracks but looking as though it belonged. This was indeed Whistlestop and the accommodation was superb...a campfire was lit and beverages handed out liberally from the much-applauded, tough-as-nails OZexplorer fridge. Once again the party came alive.
Day 4
With 431km to cover today and the route now getting progressively tighter, the day was still lining up to be a big one. With my bike on the ute, I came to realise two important things. One was the level of detail that Katie goes to, to make these rides a success. I was handed a route book (perhaps some 3 inches thick) and told I was going to have to navigate in the support truck that followed the field, collecting the ribbon that led to the corners. Katie is very particular that, once we have passed through a section, there would be no sign left that we had been there. What blew me away was that there would have been a route instruction no more than 200m apart - a washout here, a corner there, a caution here, a gate there. When you think Katie had done this for over 3,500km, it really drives home how much work goes into making an event like this work like a well-oiled machine. The second thing that I realised is that the support crew (all volunteers covering their own costs) are there for a good time and nothing is too much trouble. Ron and Jen drove a good 4-hour round trip to Wodonga to grab my much needed slave cylinder so my ride could continue. On arriving at camp, they wouldn’t even hear of me giving them anything more then a beer, saying it was a good drive and they enjoyed the diversion. How cool is that? Thanks heaps guys - my ride could have ended there if it wasn't for your extremely generous efforts!
We arrived in Alexandra and everyone hit the tools to do some much-needed maintenance on their bikes. Alexandra Motorcycles offered a tyre changing machine in support of the rally and then helped out by staying open till after 10pm so tubes, oils and other bits and pieces could be bought as needed, to ensure we would all make the finish line. However, the biggest effort of the ride goes to Dave Oliver from Tyres for Bikes (Brisbane). Dave was primarily there on holidays, but he fired up the tyre changer and set to work on what must have been 30 or 40 tyres, so all the riders could make the pub in time for dinner and a beer. On ya Dave! Incidentally, Motoz, who were keen to support the ride, did an AWSOME deal whereby everyone who bought a rear hoop for 50% off, also got given a free front hoop! (Think about that, two tyres for half the cost of one rear!) I thought the fast open dirt roads of the first few days would have seriously screwed what looked look like very aggressive full-on enduro knobbies. But they stayed so strong, a few of the crew threw them on the back of their 950s where they again put up a huge fight. (Not sure this is their intended use, so consult your Motoz dealer.) What some of the lads were paying for tyres for the big bikes, the Motoz appear to get the same life for half the cost.
Day 5
Bit of a short day today - we left our hotel in Alexandra and made the very cold ride through the Victorian high country to meet at a motel in Healesville, where the bikes would be loaded onto massive trailers built by Katie’s Dad to be taken to Tassie on the ferry, while we took the plane and grabbed some much needed sleep. The ride was an eye opener for me, as it was my first look at the de vastation the bush fires have caused. While I may never comprehend the fear and destruction which occurred on Black Saturday, I felt for those affected. It reminded me that, regardless of the silly way Victorians play footy, we are all Aussies and we need to stick together when times are tough. Upon loading the bikes on our lunch break, we bussed it to the airport where Russell, who was wearing the tutu for the day, proceeded to run foul of airport security.... but in a good way. The officials, Vanessa, Glen, Ron and Jen, had to take the overnight ferry to have our bikes ready to go by breakfast the next day in Davenport. No riding time lost crossing Bass Straight - how cool was that – on ya guys! In fact, the only thing lost was Glen's Apple iPhone. When he got so excited at the ferry arriving, he dropped his new toy into the drink at the end of the jetty. Fancy all that flash technology and they can't make the buggers float!
 
Day 6
Today was a 336km leg from Davenport to Smithton via the Milkshakes Hills Forest Reserve and over the Campbell Range on some tracks identified by the locals as a 'hoot'. A quick pre-breakfast (6am Queensland time) blast down the highway (very cold) got us to our breakfast stop at Gunns Plains Caves, where the locals had bacon and egg burgers with fresh coffee ready for us. Then, because we were with Endeavour, we got a special sneak peak into the caves themselves. Discovered in 1906, the immediate 54 steps leading down to the cave floor were steep and provide their own level of excitement when negotiated in a set of wet dirt bike boots, as does the ladder! Impressive as the natural assets were, the thought of volunteers taking all the concrete in by hand to build the stairs and viewing areas was even more impressive. The rest of the day consisted of dirt roads and forestry service tracks through Hellyer Gorge State Reserve and the Savage River National Park, constantly winding up and down through the green, very green, countryside. This is the Tasmania you don't see in the normal tourist brochures. For us Queenslanders, the best part of all was no dust.
Day 7
As had become the norm, I was up at daybreak with bags packed and in the trailer by 6am. A hot breakfast followed. This, of course, was after Dave's mate....who we never met...let off a few firecrackers, just to make sure everyone was up and at 'em. The lead bikes fired up and were off and running about 8.15am, which was about the norm for the trip. I was particularly looking forward to the ride today as it would take us right down the western s ide of the island - in fact, it would take us right to the Edge of the World. Here, just after crossing the Arthur River on the far northwest coast of Tassie, is where the longest expanse of ocean in the world hits the beach. Yes, the air does feel genuinely cleaner than anywhere else.
From Arthur River, a very quick, in fact, a very, very quick ride down the Western Explorer route was had to the small town of Corinna, where the bikes were loaded on to a small car ferry to be taken to the other side of the Pieman River. This didn't seem too hard, but I understand that, a couple of days earlier, one of the BMW Safari blokes decided to ride right off the end of the ferry and see how deep the river actually is. Apparently, like Apple iPhones, all the technology in a BMW doesn’t help them float either. We continued on but couldn't see how to access the beach at Henty Dunes so, after a few failed attempts to get over the dunes on the bigger bikes, we went a bit further south and got onto the flat wide speedway...er um I mean beach. While trying to power slide the 950, Dave went down. Within the blink of an eye, bikes seemed to appear from everywhere, like a pack of hyenas in for the kill. So much sand was moved in such a short space of time, it was like one of those National Geographic documentaries where a new island emerges from the sea. We rode the beach south until emerging just a few kilometres up the road from Strahan. We had to haul down the last kilometres of the day on the black stuff until we hit Queenstown. But, in Tassie, even the black stuff is fun, as no road seems to go in a straight line for more than 10m, with plenty of 35km/h corners which, of course, is the recommended speed (ie. not the maximum speed) at which such corners can be taken. Let's face it - when the logging trucks slow down to 35, so will I. After a group photo in front of some amazing scenery, we got to our accommodation and gave the bikes a wash down with some handy hoses. Katie had thought of everything for this ride!
Day 8
Leaving Queenstown, we were greeted with another brilliant bit of blacktop as the road climbed out of the valley, past the huge environmental disaster that earlier mining practices caused and over the ridgeline. This bit of road is actually one of the stages in the famous Targa Tasmania Rally. Some light rain, knobby tyres and very cold weather slowed us down a bit, but it was still a hoot and scrubbed the Motoz tyres again in ways they probably weren’t designed for. The same tyre abuse was dished out as we crossed the Victoria Pass, close on 1000m and very cold in a typical Tassie drizzle. Nonetheless, the majority of the day was again back into the forest for a trip that saw us virtually cross the entire island west to east via the lakes region and the very historic town of Ross. Ross is Tasmania in my mind - a small hamlet set in green fields where all the buildings seem to be hand-made from convict labour. If you look at the stonework closely, you can actually see the individual pick marks made from convicts where they cut the blocks from the quarry. After lunch and somewhere deep in the Mt Puzzler forest, we came across a Beemer. Given that I have never won anything, to find a pretty good BMW (except for where it was bent, and it was bent in a lot of places) in the middle of the bush seemed pretty good to me. But Katie just had to go and get on the Sat Phone to find out that it was part of the BMW Safari and, while the owner had to go to hospital, the recovery vehicle was still to get the bike. We offered to throw it on the ute but the Safari guys said it was well in hand and they would be there soon. The day wound up with another famous Targa stage as we blasted through St Mary's Pass, dropping down to St Helens and to our night's accommodation overlooking the local fishing fleet moored in Georges Bay. A very nice place for a beer.
Day 9
It had to come; no one wanted it to, the last day of the ride. By ride standards, the 261km on the route sheet looked like an easy cruise and, in some respects, it was, after the last 3,300 odd kilometres. However, Katie had worked in a number of sightseeing venues, so those that had not been to Tassie before could sample some of the Apple Island's delights, other than moist tacky forestry tracks. First stop was the Pub in the Paddock. The jury is out as to whether the pub is more famous for being in the middle of a paddock or for Priscilla, the beer-drinking pig. My money is on Priscilla. This was followed by lunch at Targa, which seemed rather appropriate given that we had conducted some of our own “special” stages. But the last stop-off for the day was Ben Lomond Ski Field and the famous Jacob’s Ladder. The switchback road starts about 1,000m up and leads to the top of a very impressive cliff, close on 1,200 meters above sea level. Riders left the bottom car park at 30-second intervals with the intention to enjoy the impressive scenery, which soon translated to seeing if you could catch the bike in front. Naturally, road rules were obeyed, not sure which ones though. For the tourists already at the top, you could not buy this sort of entertainment. A 950 with twin akrapovics in full song climbing the road below is indeed the ultimate addition to such a magnificent landscape, well, in my mind anyway.
The pack rolled in (some on reserve) to the final night's accommodation after the author made a navigation error on the last corner of a 3,500km journey. Oops. Katie and Sherry from Endeavour had organised a welcoming party and the whole support crew were there, including Katie's husband Daniel and brother Michael. These guys, who no one had met until now, were travelling a consistent two days ahead of the pack with her father Paul, laying ribbon, marking cautions and putting up corner arrows so that, by the time we arrived, usually at some considerable speed, it was all smooth sailing. A final dinner was had, awards handed out and a few glasses of rum drunk for what was the end of another amazing event. Even though it might be a year or more before we all meet up again on the next Cannonball Adventure, I am sure just like this year, we will once again be back on our bikes, riding each day into new adventures and it will seem like nothing has changed between mates. When friends are made through the common interest of adventure riding, time may pass but the friendships stay strong. This is what it means to be part of the club of dirt bikers that call themselves 'Cannonballers' riding for Endeavour. Come on, join the club!
Post note:
This year's ride took in the sights of western Queensland and NSW, the high country of Victoria (limited due to the bushfires), Melbourne Airport (entertaining in itself when you are wearing a pink tutu) and wilderness of Tasmania. Twenty-one riders started and, more impressively, 21 riders finis hed! The ride caters for all bikes, with ample time provided for oil changes on some of the hi-tech enduro weapons. Husband and wife teams are also encouraged.
Cannonball Charity Rides are fully catered and organisers carry all fuel, service, camping and cooking gear. The cost of each ride depends on the location and accommodation. The 2010 ride will run from Dalby to Darwin, taking in the sights of Tambo, Jundah, Barkley Homestead, Daly Waters and Litchfield National Park to name a few. If you’re keen, and you should be, more info can be found at http://cannonball.endeavour.com.au. Alternatively, call Katie on 0402 750 900 or email cannonballride@optusnet.com.au. Either way, just get out there and do it!
Supporters:
As this is a charity ride, we would like to thank our suppoters for their great assistance. We can say their gear is great because, even though we are grateful for any support given, you can’t take chances when you are responsible for the lives and well being of lots of people in remote places. For this reason, we only use the best gear and from the following companies.
Motoz Tyres, Oz Explorer Fridge/Freezers, Fourby's 4x4 Superstore, 3D Embroidery, Fluidstar,
