Never worry about emptying your dustbag ever again with the new model of Australia, with 'Dual Cyclone Power!'. Most probably because your dustbag, hoover, living room and entire house have been blown away.
Yes that's right folks, the northern end of Western Australia, and most of the Northern Territory is currently getting the stuffing kicked out of it by cyclone 'George' and cyclone 'Jacob'. The gruesome twosome are having a ball up there, wrecking towns, smashing up ships, upsetting peoples hair and generally doing cyclonic things. (That Dyson bloke has a lot to answer for)
Luckily for me, I'm enjoying a serendipitous pit-stop in Perth. (That's at the southern end of Western Australia) I'm pretty much back where I started before I embarked on this adventure, once again staying with friends in Armadale just south of Perth city centre.
I'll be here for a couple of weeks I should imagine, for three main reason (and now the added fourth of there being cyclones in the way of my expedition. Bloody nature!)
Reason one: Bike don't go nowhere without fuel; and the money in my fuel account has gone. Erm...into the fuel tank (and possibly on a few pies). So I've stopped to do some work to top that up a bit.
Reason two: Bike also don't go nowhere if it falls apart. I'll be taking this opportunity to fix a few minor problems that have cropped up with the mechanical workings, and generally do a full on service. Things like adding 'barkbusters' to protect the levers in case I drop the bike; not that I'll be doing that of course. Along with other things like sorting out valve clearances, changing the oil and replacing the 'cush drives'. (which are apparently not a bad 80's cover band as I originally thought) Can't say I know for certain how to do everything that needs doing, but I've got half an instruction manual and a set of spanners; what could possibly go wrong?
Reason three: It's still too wet up north at the moment, and many of the tracks I plan to take are still under water. A week or so more and it should be dry enough to proceed up north, sans-waterwings.
Reason four: Big, big, swirly, whooshing things. (See map above)
So once all those 'reasons' have been sorted out, I shall be continuing up the western coast of Australia and round, over the top and on!
The trip around the south-western section of Western Australia was fairly uneventful. In fact there isn't really that much to write about at the moment. There were some fairly nice towns I stopped in, places like Margaret River. I'm sure you could have a fantastic time there if you liked drinking wine, were there for a week and had a stack of cash. As I fulfilled none of those three criteria, I didn't really find much reason to linger in most of the towns.
Just off the bike, hot, sweaty, smelly and with hair to make a scarecrow blush. It's a wonder I don't get swamped by hoards of gorgeous women more often really.Once again ended up in some nice camping spots, mostly scattered throughout the National Parks that were conveniently placed on my route. Got lost for about two hours in the 'Leeuwin Naturaliste' National Park. Bounced around on a sandy track for most of that time, only to realise it took me on a big loop back round to where I'd started. Where I discovered that a car had parked across the sign which pointed me in the direction of the campsite. Turned out the site was all of five minutes from the main track. Curses! Still, I got to see most of the national park at least.
Lost? Moi?! Why yes, actually...
That's about it for now. Coming soon (with any luck), will be an actual front-page to www.arseaboutface.com. Hopefully it'll lend a bit of credibility to my fund-raising efforts, and get some more donations rolling in. Also coming soon (I swear!), is a proper photo gallery with a nice big selection of photos.
Watch this space. {------} <----That space right there, go on watch it...I dare you.
A smattering of pictures for you:
The Albany Wind Farm. Pretty and also environmentally friendly.
The worst road surface in the world; like trying to ride on marbles. At least I imagine that's what it's like, not ever having ridden on marbles.
I'm not usually in a position to criticise someone else's mangling of the English language, but this one was special. I love a distinguished fire me.
Had a bit of occasional help from a fellow that knew his way around an engine though, so that helped head off any major dramas. Nothing like pulling apart the front suspension, and having the probably very vital parts spring out of the fork and roll under a car. Cue lots of swearing and grovelling under said vehicle.
