Burketown breakdown

So far the Savannah Way had treated me well. But after 16,000km's it was time for another breakdown. I managed to ride into Burketown without any dramas and found that the people were particularly friendly and welcoming. I checked into the caravan park where I met another cyclist and was able to relax and rejuvenate. The local pub had burned down, and I was thankful for this as I heard that some of the locals had earned a bad name for the town. No pub meant peace and quite. I stayed for a rest day in order to glimpse the famous 'Morning Glory' cloud formation, unique to the area. So I was up at 5am both mornings, sadly to a clear sky.

It was then time to move on once more. So I packed my belongings, said my goodbye's and hit the dirt again. But after about 80km's... disaster struck once again. Well 'disaster' is overkill, this was just a nuisance. One of the arms that attaches the trailer to the bike snapped clean. I was able to use a hose clamp to temporarily re-join it, and fixed it with zippy-ties and trusty tape. My bush fix did the job. But I was forced to turn back towards Burketown rather then forwards to Normanton. I knew that Burketown had an engineer that 'should' be able to help me. Well... he couldn't. In fact the blokes working in the engineering shop were next to useless. 'Bull-rider' sat crouched next to the trailer looking deep into the break scratching his chin thoughtfully. He was dreaming up a cleaver fix for my trailer, or maybe he was thinking about Friday night activities for the upcoming weekend. The later seemed more probable. I was sent away with a make-shift brace to hold it together until I reached Karumba, some 200km's away. My Dad had once more worked his magic in organizing a replacement trailer part. He had worked hard making many phone calls, sparing no time to help me out of this pickle. The replacement part was going to be mailed to Karumba, but would take more then a week to arrive. But this time luck was on my side.

I rode once more down the dusty track towards Normanton. It was a rough ride, and in the heat I found myself taking water out of rivers, creeks and even dams. At the peak of the days heat a huge road-train slowed to a halt to give me 2.4L's of icy cold water. At that moment I really loved that man. He was my saviour. 

Days earlier I had met a man named Ray. Ray was the owner of a huge cattle station some 70km's before Normanton. He had told me to pop in to say hello and have a proper dinner and somewhere to sleep for the night. When I did indeed venture down his long, windy driveway, I was unaware of what was in store for me...

                                                                                  Graeme

                                                                               Bugger!

                                                                    Waiting for the Morning Glory cloud formation with my friend Rodney in his off-road truck

  

                           The bore water spring at Burketown. That water is 68 degrees!