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Crossing the Nullarbor Plain on a bicycle
You must go to the Perth museum and view the new exhibition all about crossing the Nullarbor on a bicycle and all the attempts to break the record.
You must go to the Perth museum and view the new exhibition all about crossing the Nullarbor on a bicycle and all the attempts to break the record.
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The exhibition is on for a few months only I believe and there is lots to see from the very first attempts when the road was all dirt up to when Bruce Hunt who is still alive broke the record in 1974 and also more recent crossings by bicycle.
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The exhibition is on at the Museum of Perth, 8-10 The Esplanade, Perth (not to be confused with the WA museum. The exhibition is open 10-4 Monday to Saturday until the end of January. More info here https://historical.cc/events/2023/10/6/nullarbor-cycling
My first experience of the Nullarbor was quite eye opening. It was in 1971 ,and my husband had been relocated for his job from Perth to Sydney. I decided in my wisdom to drive to Sydney with my seven children. I also towed a boat we had only just purchased ,it even had the engine still packed in the box . As a fairly new immigrant I thought what could be so hard. The whole journey took 8 days as I was also having to look after the children, so limited the kilometres daily. Then after a couple of days travel we approached the dirt road . That was an experience in it self. Seemingly stretches of smooth and sandy road was deceiving. Just a few kilometres in I experienced the “ bull dust” . Down I went into potholes and sand spraying up from the wheels. I was really cautious after that. After encountering a particularly deep hole ,I lost the boat trailer lights and a few kilometres a suitcase fell of the back of the boat. Fortunately we were able to recover them thanks to my parents following in a VW camper van. The camper van was adequate for them but so old, but it lasted the distance. I had two children develop tonsillitis on the journey ,but we managed to see a doctor at the first town. If you are wondering how we slept ,well I had a Ford station wagon, I made up beds for the youngest ,it’s surprising how you can fit so many but they were so tired. Two of the older children slept in the boat which was a cabin cruiser. Regards the boat,I was very surprised at the offers of purchase that were made. I didn’t even give it a thought ,after all it was our sleeping quarters. So where did I sleep? the only place left was the driving seat. My children did me proud, they may have realised this was no place to squabble. I remember after that trip across the Nullarbor , we reached Broken Hill and parked up behind the hotel . My memory of that was of the whole yard was full of spiny double g’s . Needless to say our stay was very short lived. Would I do it again, well it would be far easier with sealed roads ,but my travelling days are limited. Ps . My family was large but I had two sets of twins, that boosted the family quite considerably. So many tales to tell of our entire journey, but the Nullarbor is most vivid in my memory.
On Saturday morning we picked up our POOPS dog Nellie (Pets Of Older Persons) and her owner and took them for morning coffee and I mentioned the cycling Nullarbor exhibition and she is now 83 (I am 86) and she said in 1960 she crossed from Perth to Sydney in a VW beetle and her had parents advertised for someone to accompany her. Two foreign male backpackers got the job but Jan said when she got to Adelaide it was evident that neither of them could drive so she dumped them there and carried on by herself to Sydney where she had a teaching job.
I was part of a support crew for a guy who cycled from Perth to the Gold Coast in 15 days in 2007 for charity (The Endeavour Foundation). After studying the weather patterns for previous years, we thought we knew what he was in for. What we didn't expect was the inland rain depression (and wind) caused by a recent cyclone. What a fantastic experience that was.
Here’s my brother, Alan’s story as told by him: A pushbike ride across the Nullarbor (47 years ago)
I’d been hitchhiking up and down the coast of Western Australia, Perth to Broome, back to Perth and was looking for something different to get back to Brisbane.
I had met someone who had push biked from Adelaide to Darwin, I was impressed by the muscles in his legs.
Being young and carefree (or careless, as Mum might say) I thought riding a bicycle would be a fun, simple and a cheap way of doing it. Plus, I could really take my time and get off the beaten track and explore the sights along the way. Something I couldn’t do hitchhiking or flying.
So, I bought a second-hand bike in Perth for $45 that had about 4 gears that I never used for the whole trip as I didn’t know how and was too embarrassed to ask anyone.
I told the salesman I was going to ride to Brisbane, he must have had a great laugh when I tried to scoot on the bike and hit the median strip in the middle of the road and fell off.
I hadn’t ridden a bike since I was probably about 10 and it didn’t come as easy as I thought or remembered.
The seat was very narrow, my bum was sore from the very first day and only got worse for at least the first week but then miraculously was never a problem after that.
I had with me (from what I remember) just a hippie like shoulder bag that carried my water, a billy can and some rice, potatoes and matches. Also, some newspaper which I would use for campfires and toilet paper. Plus, a sleeping bag rolled up with a few clothes that I was able to tie up to the back of the bike. I was using the billy an to boil my rice and potatoes.
I started touring and southeast WA and remember camping in a cave at Margaret River right near Margaret River beach. I was there for a few days enjoying watching the locals surfing.
Other places I camped was in a golf club. In those days I never thought twice about breaking into places like this. Most were unsecured. I once crashed (slept) in a country hall and got found by a farmer and his son who weren’t alarmed at all and wanted to hear my story.
I found the same warmth near everywhere I travelled and had lots of conversations with farmers who were working on their tractors.
Somewhere along the trip around SE WA I hooked up with another cyclist doing the same trip. He however wasn’t going across the Nullarbor so we parted ways at Esperance which was basically the gateway to Norseman which was the start of the Nullarbor.
For my preparation I got 3 or 4 empty 2 litre cordial bottles and filled them with water and bought some straps to tie them to my bike. I filled my shoulder bag with food.
I figured I would stop at the several petrol stations along the Nullarbor to replenish my supplies.
On the very first day, which was November 7, I had a strong Westerly wind blowing and I was travelling that fast my feet couldn’t keep up with the pedals. My shirt was filled with air, it was like I was sailing.
I travelled about 180 miles by about 3 or 4 o’clock (I had no watch or phone) and then the wind suddenly turned the opposite way and just as strong. I could hardly move forward so I decided to camp by the road for the night.
I just loved the days and the nights at the Nullarbor. The big wide-open nothingness might look monotonous but it seemed to me that every metre of Nullarbor I passed had its own story, its own history and was only too happy to have someone like me to share it with.
A wildflower here or there, that only I would get to see, or a wombat crossing the
road, some kangaroos and emus. The Nullarbor might be a desert but it’s not empty
or void of life.
At night just being covered by a million stars made me think I was on another planet.
Some people crossing in cars would boastfully tell me how quickly they travelled through the Nullarbor.
I felt my 7 days was too short. I loved it!
On the second day there was very little wind and I really had to pedal, it was hot. Unfortunately, the day before I was going so fast that 2 of my water bottles got bounced off my bike and burst on the road.
Water started to become a problem. I recall stopping at one roadhouse and buying water, but it was so expensive I never stopped at another roadhouse again.
Instead, when I ran out of water I would flag motorists down asking if they had some spare. It was amazing to me how few people stopped. I reckon it was a lower success rate than if I was hitchhiking. Very few stopped despite me clearly showing I was out of water.
And it was amazing how quickly I would run out of water. I’d drink 2 litres and then 30 minutes later I’d be literally feeling like I was dying of thirst again.
This for me was the worst part of my trip, having to rely on others to get water.
Next time I do it I’m pulling a water tank behind me.
Another problem I was developing was my hands were starting to become permanently clenched. When I got off the bike , it was hard to open my hands so it was very awkward trying to wipe my bottom or cut my potatoes.
I think while crossing the Nullarbor, I only had 1 meal a day and that was a rice and potato meal I boiled together in the billycan.
This was much different than during the rest of the trip when there were shops. I had such hunger that I remember having a milkshake and apple pie for morning tea and then half a dozen salad roll for Lunch! I have trouble eating 2 now.
The day I finished crossing the Nullarbor was November 14th (mine and Dad’s birthday) and I remember ringing Dad for his birthday, it was only then that I told my family for the first time that I was riding a push bike from Perth to Brisbane and for mum not to worry as I already had made it across the hardest part.
The next day I was travelling fast down a hill, I got into the loose gravel on the side and the bike started to shimmer, I lost control and fell off and badly cut up my elbow.
I then cycled to the nearest hospital and had got patched up and it was there that I found out why my hands were all clenched up. The doctor explained that it was the shoulder bag across my shoulder that was cutting circulation to my hands so when I carried it over my right side it would cut circulation to my left hand and vice versa. I then started to carry it around my neck and under my shoulders.
I continued to have trouble with my hands however for years afterwards especially in cold weather.
I stayed at Pt Lincoln for a few days and continued on with my journey with a few adventures on the way.
After riding to Melbourne and spending Xmas at Phillip Island with Auntie Audrey and Uncle Ted.
I resumed my trip to Queensland and got picked up by brother, Mark, at the Gold Coast sometime in January (I think). He drove me home to Brisbane.
The best part of the trip was the Nullarbor.
The most disappointing thing was that I never got muscled legs despite never using gears.
The End.
I’d been hitchhiking up and down the coast of Western Australia, Perth to Broome, back to Perth and was looking for something different to get back to Brisbane.
I had met someone who had push biked from Adelaide to Darwin, I was impressed by the muscles in his legs.
Being young and carefree (or careless, as Mum might say) I thought riding a bicycle would be a fun, simple and a cheap way of doing it. Plus, I could really take my time and get off the beaten track and explore the sights along the way. Something I couldn’t do hitchhiking or flying.
So, I bought a second-hand bike in Perth for $45 that had about 4 gears that I never used for the whole trip as I didn’t know how and was too embarrassed to ask anyone.
I told the salesman I was going to ride to Brisbane, he must have had a great laugh when I tried to scoot on the bike and hit the median strip in the middle of the road and fell off.
I hadn’t ridden a bike since I was probably about 10 and it didn’t come as easy as I thought or remembered.
The seat was very narrow, my bum was sore from the very first day and only got worse for at least the first week but then miraculously was never a problem after that.
I had with me (from what I remember) just a hippie like shoulder bag that carried my water, a billy can and some rice, potatoes and matches. Also, some newspaper which I would use for campfires and toilet paper. Plus, a sleeping bag rolled up with a few clothes that I was able to tie up to the back of the bike. I was using the billy an to boil my rice and potatoes.
I started touring and southeast WA and remember camping in a cave at Margaret River right near Margaret River beach. I was there for a few days enjoying watching the locals surfing.
Other places I camped was in a golf club. In those days I never thought twice about breaking into places like this. Most were unsecured. I once crashed (slept) in a country hall and got found by a farmer and his son who weren’t alarmed at all and wanted to hear my story.
I found the same warmth near everywhere I travelled and had lots of conversations with farmers who were working on their tractors.
Somewhere along the trip around SE WA I hooked up with another cyclist doing the same trip. He however wasn’t going across the Nullarbor so we parted ways at Esperance which was basically the gateway to Norseman which was the start of the Nullarbor.
For my preparation I got 3 or 4 empty 2 litre cordial bottles and filled them with water and bought some straps to tie them to my bike. I filled my shoulder bag with food.
I figured I would stop at the several petrol stations along the Nullarbor to replenish my supplies.
On the very first day, which was November 7, I had a strong Westerly wind blowing and I was travelling that fast my feet couldn’t keep up with the pedals. My shirt was filled with air, it was like I was sailing.
I travelled about 180 miles by about 3 or 4 o’clock (I had no watch or phone) and then the wind suddenly turned the opposite way and just as strong. I could hardly move forward so I decided to camp by the road for the night.
I just loved the days and the nights at the Nullarbor. The big wide-open nothingness might look monotonous but it seemed to me that every metre of Nullarbor I passed had its own story, its own history and was only too happy to have someone like me to share it with.
A wildflower here or there, that only I would get to see, or a wombat crossing the
road, some kangaroos and emus. The Nullarbor might be a desert but it’s not empty
or void of life.
At night just being covered by a million stars made me think I was on another planet.
Some people crossing in cars would boastfully tell me how quickly they travelled through the Nullarbor.
I felt my 7 days was too short. I loved it!
On the second day there was very little wind and I really had to pedal, it was hot. Unfortunately, the day before I was going so fast that 2 of my water bottles got bounced off my bike and burst on the road.
Water started to become a problem. I recall stopping at one roadhouse and buying water, but it was so expensive I never stopped at another roadhouse again.
Instead, when I ran out of water I would flag motorists down asking if they had some spare. It was amazing to me how few people stopped. I reckon it was a lower success rate than if I was hitchhiking. Very few stopped despite me clearly showing I was out of water.
And it was amazing how quickly I would run out of water. I’d drink 2 litres and then 30 minutes later I’d be literally feeling like I was dying of thirst again.
This for me was the worst part of my trip, having to rely on others to get water.
Next time I do it I’m pulling a water tank behind me.
Another problem I was developing was my hands were starting to become permanently clenched. When I got off the bike , it was hard to open my hands so it was very awkward trying to wipe my bottom or cut my potatoes.
I think while crossing the Nullarbor, I only had 1 meal a day and that was a rice and potato meal I boiled together in the billycan.
This was much different than during the rest of the trip when there were shops. I had such hunger that I remember having a milkshake and apple pie for morning tea and then half a dozen salad roll for Lunch! I have trouble eating 2 now.
The day I finished crossing the Nullarbor was November 14th (mine and Dad’s birthday) and I remember ringing Dad for his birthday, it was only then that I told my family for the first time that I was riding a push bike from Perth to Brisbane and for mum not to worry as I already had made it across the hardest part.
The next day I was travelling fast down a hill, I got into the loose gravel on the side and the bike started to shimmer, I lost control and fell off and badly cut up my elbow.
I then cycled to the nearest hospital and had got patched up and it was there that I found out why my hands were all clenched up. The doctor explained that it was the shoulder bag across my shoulder that was cutting circulation to my hands so when I carried it over my right side it would cut circulation to my left hand and vice versa. I then started to carry it around my neck and under my shoulders.
I continued to have trouble with my hands however for years afterwards especially in cold weather.
I stayed at Pt Lincoln for a few days and continued on with my journey with a few adventures on the way.
After riding to Melbourne and spending Xmas at Phillip Island with Auntie Audrey and Uncle Ted.
I resumed my trip to Queensland and got picked up by brother, Mark, at the Gold Coast sometime in January (I think). He drove me home to Brisbane.
The best part of the trip was the Nullarbor.
The most disappointing thing was that I never got muscled legs despite never using gears.
The End.
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We (my late Husband and I) crossed the Nullabor a couple of times (both ways), a memorable time was when there was still some dirt road. It had rained and we drove carefully, only to find a huge truck had flipped and made a big hole in the dirt. Very glad we were going slow.
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