This is Helmut's story of the journey: from the left, Peter, Ralph, Helmut and Rod Return to Outbike-ride Development

Part 2: Outback Epic Bicycle Adventure Challenge Race Showcase Wrap

Day 10 Road to the Painted Desert

The Turn-off was about 45 km from town, we were told. Rob was not sure, that he would be fast enough to arrive there by the appointed time, 10am, but was adamant, that he wanted to ride all legs to Coober Pedy. Most were choosing the easy option of the truck that morning. Forty km by ten would be a good ride. I did not share his particular passion of needing to ride all legs, but he had asked me to accompany him. He wanted to leave early, at about 6am, well before light. I agreed, but was running late in the morning, so he left and I was to catch up. After about a good half an hour, I left, it was still pretty dark, but light soon. I made good time and really pushed hard, to catch Rob as soon as possible. After a huge effort, I finally saw him. There he was, having a short bludge on a hill in the distance. Soon we were riding together, according to his regime.

We had spread our resources with a reasonable margin and despite the headwind, expected to reach the turn-off in good time, well before 10am. However, after 45km, there was no sign of a sign and we started to worry and look for a sign. We had eased-off slightly and were now under pressure. That sign did not show up until 50km, we only just made it. On the way, we had picked up two cans, which we wanted to use to our advantage. As agreed, when the peleton arrived, we were resting, with cans in hand, looking very cool. They asked, how long we had been waiting, and to my mild annoyance, Rob said "We have only just arrived". I would rather he had been more vague in his reply. He restored my faith in him, when he added with a smile " It’s not a race, but we got here first". At any rate, they had done very well, but left themselves short, because the deadline was 10am. As it turned out, this was not critical, because the two trucks with the others only had arrived by 10.30.

The Painted Desert was a worthwhile detour. We had marvelous views, colours and shapes. We also had lunch, with that morning’s cyclists being given priority. During the way back to the main track, there was much cool discussion of plasma physics in the front of the vehicle, and heated discussions about trivia in the back. For my part, I was tired and not looking forward to another 40kms that afternoon. I must have eaten into my reserves that morning. Several riders were to be dropped along the way, including Ralph. Rob wanted to ride all the way and was imploring me to accompany him. In the end, I acquiesced. At the junction, after arriving just before 2pm, preparations were being made. The peleton was ready to move, and I called out "Race starts in two minutes". This lighthearted joke on my part was not funny to some, however in less than a minute, they were gone. I called out "disqualified for breaking the start", but they were out of hearing range. Several minutes later we could see them, a good way off, on a crest, burning up the track against a heavy headwind.

Rob and I made heavy weather of it, that day. I, in particular, was very tired. The wind made it more difficult. We were sweating on afternoon tea, but at the designated distance, there was none. We kept going. It was then that we began plotting, initially just as a distraction from the disappointment, but the plotting gained momentum. I suggested to Rob, that I might go early, tomorrow, on the last leg, to win the big one, although it was not a race. Rob thought that the peleton may anticipate such a move on my part, at say 5am. It would then screw me by leaving at 4am, therefore, I must leave at 3am. Better still at 2am, better still to be safe rather than sorry, don’t go to bed at all and slip away quietly after dinner. We shrieked with laughter and painted further such mad scenarios. The distance passed more easily while we joked and horsed around and so were able to cope. After a while, we managed to pick up Ralph. At one stage we were all spread out on the road, flat on our backs, the three of us, dead tired and resting. Just when we had written off afternoon tea, there was Peter, on the side of the road. We were livid, but moreso when he told us, that there were another 8km or more to camp, when it was almost dark. I was speechless. It meant, that we would ride 118km that day. I could not believe that we would make it. Wearily we set out again. It was almost dusk and Rob fell in some ruts, which I had avoided. Then at long last we could see the campfire, back from the road. I just dropped my bike near the front truck and sat down at the fire. BT had made a fabulous dessert again, a jam roly poly, in the camp oven. There were some speeches which I have forgotten, but I waited for Rob to let loose, in the Green Cap conferring ceremony, but he had calmed down and I was too tired. I was in plan mode, did not change, borrowed Peter’s fine torch and withdrew to my designated tent, kindly erected for Rob by Charlie. He however declined, preferring a swag. I did not wish to attract attention to myself, so quietly I rationalised my gear in the tent, in case I chose to go early. Only the barest essential survived. I packed 3 staminade bottles, 2 tubes, repair kit, pump, including one tyre lever and one spoon, 2 candy bars, in my haste I could not find the others, 12 speed tablets. I wore what I wore, my normal bicycle gear plus my thin windcheater. The front basket was removed, with camera. Everything was then packed into my large red bag, which I dumped into the luggage trailer. I then took a swag and positioned myself near my bike. I located Rob in his swag and told him that if conditions were favorable and I felt good, I would do a bolter, in which case could he roll-up my swag. I returned to my swag and tried to go to sleep, however I realized that in my haste, I had packed my sleeping bag. I was slowly freezing, started to chatter and shiver.

Day 11 The Big One

Sleep was almost impossible, the next hours would be very bleak. I must have drifted in and out of sleep for several hours. Each time I looked out it was either blowing or overcast. I did not feel very comfortable. I was totally cold. At one stage I was able to read my watch/heart monitor and it was 3am. I did not feel like going into the cold dark night all alone. Sometime later I must have woken and needed a leak. I was desperately trying to postpone it. Finally, I resolved that should I be forced to leave the shelter of the swag, I would bite the bullet and bolt. I just had to go, therefore summoning all my courage, I quietly unzipped the swag and emerged, put on my helmet, bag and lifted up my bike, tip-toed the 40 or so metres to the road. As I neared the road, I heard a voice, so I shouted "Where’s that blasted shovel?" as if I were going for a short walk. I walked quietly another 50 metres, then started the long ride, slowly at first, for the big one, in almost total darkness.

I was in a completely new world, in which I could hardly perceive horizons, nor discern shapes. I felt totally alone and not alone. Visibility was about 10 metres, I steered mainly by the sound of tyres on soft gravel. It was dark and intimidating. The darkness was an unknown quantity. I had never done anything like this before. My mind started to play games to keep the demons at bay and eventually must have won, because I must have warmed to the task and gained in confidence. I remembered stories of close encounters in the outback and had visions of flying saucers. My eyes played tricks on me, making me see red lights ahead, as if Eddie had himself bolted and was ahead. Then I saw lights behind me, as if they were coming after me. I stopped looking. Instead, I looked at the heavens for comfort, hoping that I would see a shooting star and therefore make a wish. I do not know what made me do it, to leave the security, albeit cold security, of the swag and the camp. Then there seemed to be road works and the road took a turn to the right. I hoped that I had not taken a wrong turn and would end up somewhere near the main highway to Alice and the joke would be on me. I took comfort in knowing that the moon would soon rise, but when it eventually did, it made little difference. The slight crescent almost made a shadow to comfort me. In vain did I scan the horizon for any sign of light, indicating a settlement. Then I remembered Rod’s lessons on astronomy. I searched for the Southern Cross and made the projections. Yes, I was indeed heading due south. What a relief! Just as well that I was attentive in class.

During the ride in darkness I could use neither my watch nor my bicycle computer. I was therefore without vital information about my progress. I was flying blind and could not use my instruments. To avoid total disappointment, I picked 20km as the distance travelled that I would be happy with at first light. I was over the moon, when I finally saw a sign – it was round and on it were the letters CP and below them 60. Wow, I had travelled 30km in darkness, in about 2 hours. I now hit the pedals in earnest. 60km is only from Penrith to Mosman, that’s not too far. I’ve done it in three and a half hours, on my roadbike. But this was the outback. Between 7& 8am, it started to blow. That was a huge blow, but I kept going, speed falling to just over 12 kmph, having only the high range at my disposal. Then I saw the next sign: CP 50. I continued. But my bum started to hurt badly. Stops became more frequent but I was now counting down. A vehicle passed me. I could hear another, flagged it down and asked the driver "Are there any other cyclists on the road?" He said, yes, but not to worry, because they were so far back, that I would have enough time to reach Coober Pedy and return to this spot before they showed. This was a huge relief. Then suddenly, I thought he might have been tricking me. 20 km to go. I pushed harder. As the distance decreased, the pain increased. I could see huge mullock heaps in the distance. The road was very smooth and the land flat as a pancake, normally ideal conditions for making good time, but the wind spoilt the party. Slowly, so slowly the kilometers went by. Then it was only 10 to CP. Surely they would not catch me now, I looked back and thought I could see them, but kept going. I was resigned to being pipped at the post. It’s my eyes, they are playing tricks on me again. Those last 10 km must have been the longest ever. I could see the town and make out buildings. Over the hill and glanced back. Nothing. I continued the last kilometer, soon passing the council boundary, and signs alerting to the dangers of hidden shafts. Past the camping ground and right into the main street now, up the hill, past the hotels and shops, up to the main CBD. I’ve done it. A huge effort. Elation filled me.

I saw the Temptations restaurant on the right promising breakfast of bacon and eggs. I took the gypsy woman under my arm and walked up the steps to the tables on the terrace, where I sat down and ordered a mug of latte and bacon, eggs, toast and tomato. Then I walked casually across the road to the supermarket and bought some deodorant, because I must have smelt terrible. At 11am I was eating bacon and eggs on the terrace, overlooking the main street in Coober Pedy. After that huge meal I ordered another, looking north down the street. I then indulged in an apple strudel with cream and a hot chocolate. I did not mind the lack of reception. I was just so happy to be there. I was in a very good mood. I felt wonderful. The first of the peleton did not arrive until about 3pm. I stood at the hotel, watching .Only Paul came to me, shook me by the hand and whispered "Congratulations".

Epilogue

After this huge breakfast, I thought about more mundane things, such as accommodation. I had one peek at the hotel that Ralph had booked for us, and said no. Fear of enclosed spaces is something that has follows me around all my life. I therefore cycled to the camping ground and rented myself a nice cabin with ensuite, but I still needed clothes. This was before 12. After making some enquiries, I cycled to the 2nd hand shop down the road and bought a pair of jeans, a pair of laces for a belt and a shirt that made me look as if were wearing a dinner suit. I bought the lot for $16 and headed for a shower in the cabin. Subsequently, I washed all my clothes twice. Then I cycled up to the pub and happened to see BT in her truck, or she spotted me. We agreed to celebrate with a beer that evening at pre dinner drinks in the pub.

At dinner that night, I think we were all excited finally to be in Coober Pedy. I was on a high, having won the big one, although it wasn’t a race. There were many speeches and many stories. The food, paid for by Ralph, was excellent. I was at a table with the professors, Christine and Rod. There were also Peter, Rob, Lucy and others, the peleton was at the next table, but I managed to speak to Eddie, who seemed to recognise my daring and achievement, when he said that he would have joined me, had he known, and I took that as a compliment. Ralph made a speech, in which he paid tribute to me in persisting despite my bad back. He added that thanks to me, he now had a good idea what extra controls to put in place for future rides. I had to tell and retell my story and Rob was absolutely thrilled that our little plot had succeeded. He said that, after I spoke to him the night before and said our goodbyes, he was sure that I would go. But did he know I would be cycling blind? In my mind, I had not been certain at all. To this day, I do not know what made me do it. In fact, I think that if I had been comfortable in my swag, there could have been a different ending to the story. In the final analysis, well done everybody. For my part, I was very happy in completing the ride, during which I had lost more than 5kgs. That’s about $400 per kilo. It had been a most excellent adventure. In the meantime, watch this space, because I have signed-up for the September tour.

Helmut (part 2)

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