Streaky Bay to Apollo Bay

There is something utterly untamed and beautiful about the west coast of South Australia. The arid limestone cliffs are surrendering in slow motion to the endless Southern Ocean swells. The sea here is deep, blue, clear and teeming with life. These photos were taken at Venus Bay.

It is said that on the very south of the Eyre Peninsula, there has never been a drought. This is entirely believable on riding through the area in Spring. Crops appear to thrive even though fringed by miles of white sand dunes and limestone cliff-tops devoid of any vegetation.

Bays like the one on the photo below abut every headland on the west coast. I have fond memories of swimming at such beaches many years ago. I can still recall the chill of the water, its absolute clarity, and the fact that we invariably had the beach entirely to ourselves. It was always in the back of my mind that in swimming on the west coast I was potentially part of a food chain. Great white sharks are plentiful in this part of the world but most of the time appear content with the more traditional fare of fish.

A quintessential West Coast bay.

I have been asked by many people about the range of the GS. It has a 20 litre tank which will take me between 250 and 300kms depending on load, headwind, and throttle habits. Distances between fuel stops have exceeded 300kms on many legs of this ride. I have carried two flexible bags designed to hold fuel – an 8 litre and a 12 litre bag. Mostly I have only needed the 8 litre reserve. There were difficulties in handling fuel in a flexible bag with the lid off and trying to invert it to pour fuel into the motorbike fuel tank (try it – when you hold the bag by both top corners the weight of the fuel causes the corners to come together which ejects fuel). But these problems were overcome with a piece of dowel to support the top of the bag and keep the corners apart, and one metre of plastic hose. Not a drop of fuel was lost during refuelling in this manner.

Canola dominates the palette of the Eyre Peninsula landscape in Spring. It smells unpleasant, but attracts photographers in droves.

Liz and I lived in Port Lincoln for three years. In riding from Streaky Bay to Cowell via Port Lincoln, I traversed the two sides of the inverted triangle that is the Eyre Peninsula in a single ride - something I didn't do when I lived there. Around every corner and left and right on every horizon were reminders of wonderful times.


The east coast of the EP is a complete contrast to the west coast. It is on the shores of the Gulf of St Vincent, and beyond the reach of ocean swells (but not beyond the territory of the great white pointer). The waters here are quiet, the beaches sandy and cliffless, but the hinterland is clothed in rich wheat, barley and canola crops. I recall snorkelling off Tumby Bay years ago for scallops, which were then cooked on a camp fire on the beach, with cut up bacon and Worcestershire sauce on top. Warming up by that fire and eating our ‘scallops kilpatrick’ – that was a moment with no room for improvement.

This roadscape is typical of the southern but not the northern EP.

One of the reasons the southern Eyre Peninsula remains a well kept secret is that the Eyre Highway between Port Augusta and Ceduna cuts right across the top of it avoiding Port Lincoln.  The road to Port Lincoln which goes SW through Whyalla is so boring and desolate that even Burke and Wills would have turned back if not before reaching Whyalla, then certainly upon getting to its city limits. It is a mini Pilbara – overburden from iron ore extraction has risen to form strangely unnatural shaped hills, the towns and ports are heavy and dirty with industry, and the saltbush plains are simply unattractive. But the rewards for the well-informed, the truly adventurous or the merely obstinate who push on to Port Lincoln are great.


In Adelaide I spent a very relaxing two nights with Kym and Jo.

Kym.

 
Kym rode with me on his Yamaha Virago to Millicent. We had light misting rain through the Adelaide Hills, where once again the Arum Lily appears wild and in abundance.

The Adelaide Hills.

Robe bakery.

Provincial bakeries are a mainstay of the touring motorcyclist.

My brother Noel and I had arranged to meet in Cape Bridgewater, just west of Portland, on Thursday afternoon.


The GPS wanted me to ride into Portland and then reverse direction and go back to Cape Bridgewater. So at a point on the Princes Highway when I was due north of Cape Bridgewater, I took a likely looking dirt road to the right with the intention of finding a more direct route to the Cape. It turned out to be a 4WD road (or series of roads – many turns were required) which was very sandy. Once again I found myself 3WD short on my 1WD GS. But with the tyre pressures lowered to 25psi, the suspension set to maximum range and softest ride, I spent a final and very enjoyable 30kms standing on the pegs of the GS in the solitude of the coastal scrub north of Cape Bridgewater. Navigating successfully to Cape Bridgewater involved ignoring virtually every suggestion made by that British woman on the GPS. She is clearly out of her depth off main roads, and should be ignored in such areas.

 
While on this road I came across a mother duck waddling along with 7 or 8 ducklings behind her. As soon as I appeared, the ducklings headed for the scrub and the mother took off and flew at low level (2-3 feet) straight down the middle of the road keeping just ahead of me. She was constantly looking back at me. There was no reason why she couldn’t have climbed left or right and turned back to her ducklings. But she just kept flying at my speed and leading me away from them. Eventually I stopped to give her a chance to desist in her elaborate decoy strategy and to give her some show of reuniting with her ducklings before sunset. After I stopped she climbed and peeled off to the left and presumably went back to her family.

Posties get it easy in the bush.

Eventually by continually turning south on a series of dirt and sand roads, I came out on a small bitumen road on the western tip of Cape Bridgewater.

Cape Bridgewater is a tiny settlement, on a vast bay which faces south east. There was a strong onshore wind this day.

The crescent shaped bay with its many kilometres of 60-70 foot dunes is a perfect coastal hang gliding site. The steady 20 knot sou’easterly which blew for the entire period of our stay was the ideal wind for hang gliding - only seabirds were taking advantage of it.

The views left and right from the verandah of Seaview Lodge.

The entrance to Cape Bridgewater.

Room 3, Seaview Lodge, Cape Bridgewater

 
Seaview Lodge is a very nice B&B, most capably run by Dennis. But Noel and I needed a D, B&B. So Noel arrived with two large rump steaks purchased in Portland, a Greek salad complete with fetta and olives, and an apple crumble and whipped cream. They were all in the bag on the back of his bike. We dined like kings on Thursday evening (Noel cooked, I was on standby in a consultative capacity, not needed as it turned out; and I found something more suited to my culinary skills in the form of dishes). We were the sole occupants of the Lodge, and had the dining area with its open fire to ourselves.
 
 

The steaks arriving in Cape Bridgewater on Thursday afternoon.

 
The west coast of Victoria usually enjoys regular rain in Spring, but at the moment it is absolutely sodden. The State of Victoria has received most welcome rains in past weeks, and indeed is in danger of floods in certain areas today. The paddocks we rode past all had water lying in them, dams on farms were overflowing, and in places the water encroached on the road. Despite the many years of drought, this much rain in such a short time is in danger of wearing out its welcome.

L to R

The GS, me, my brother Noel, the Yamaha FJ1200, at Port Campbell.

Just east of Port Campbell on the Great Ocean Road.

GOR just past the 12 Apostles (so called; there are in fact only 8 remaining).

Over the last three years I have ridden the Great Ocean Road more than any other road. I particularly like the view from this spot and have often stopped here.

The mighty GS in one of its natural environments, the temperate rainforest in the Otway National Park.

The GOR just east of Lavers Hill, in the Otway Ranges.

 
 

Castle Cove, near the Aire Valley (where there were more Arum lilies growing wild). Another favourite spot of mine.

Arrival in Apollo Bay on Friday. 17,850kms down, 200kms to go.

Apollo Bay and the west coast.  Where I like to be.

 I will ride the final 200kms from Apollo Bay to Melbourne tomorrow.