Day 11&12 of Broome to Bowral

Burning up the road

At 4:50 am, Bob and Tom rolled out of Victoria River Roadhouse.

Another early start.

Another 194 kilometres waiting for them.

And another race against the Northern Territory heat.

Jenny and I followed at around 7:30 am, looking for those familiar little flashing red lights somewhere along the Victoria Highway.

By now, this was our routine.

The boys got up in the dark, ate their porridge and disappeared down the highway while the rest of us packed up camp and followed.

We’d catch them somewhere along the road, make sure they were all right, organise food and water, and keep moving.

Some days there were wonderful things to see.

Other days, there was simply a very long road.

Today was a bit of both.

Riding through fire

The Northern Territory certainly knew how to turn up the heat.

It was already 39 degrees.

And then there was the fire.

Backburning was taking place alongside the highway, and Tom managed to capture a video while riding past the flames.

The boys were already working hard enough in the heat without adding a fire to the equation.

But there they were.

Two cyclists, one 82 years old and the other just 18, pedalling along the Victoria Highway with flames burning beside them.

The boys were burning up the road.

Quite literally.

I’d been seeing evidence of burning along the highway for days, particularly around Timber Creek.

It was becoming a familiar part of the landscape.

Fire has long been part of managing this country. Aboriginal people have used carefully timed burning practices for thousands of years, and prescribed burning is still used across the Northern Territory to manage vegetation and reduce fuel loads.

But there is a considerable difference between seeing smoke in the distance and watching two cyclists ride past flames beside the highway.

And still they kept going.

Some days are just kilometres

Not every day of this journey was packed with excitement.

Sometimes the landscape was the entertainment.

The enormous skies, the changing colours, the endless stretches of road and the occasional roadside sign reminding us just how far we still had to travel.

There were plenty of signs advertising things along the way, and some towns had quite elaborate welcome signs.

Katherine, I thought, could probably do with a new one.

Katherine. At last.

And even better, we were staying for two nights.

No packing up tomorrow morning.

No chasing flashing red lights down the highway.

A proper rest day.

Well, that was the idea.

Knott’s Crossing Resort

Our home for the next two nights was Knott’s Crossing Resort, just a few kilometres from the centre of Katherine.

It was somewhere Bob particularly wanted to stay.

He’d been here before, during his 2017 ride from Darwin to Perth, raising awareness for MND and Huntington’s disease.

He remembered the Savannah Bar & Restaurant.

Apparently, the food had been excellent.

In fact, the restaurant had won a Gold Plate award, and Bob was looking forward to returning.

Unfortunately, things had changed.

In March 2026, Katherine had experienced devastating floods.

Knott’s Crossing Resort had suffered enormous damage, including the destruction of 16 cabins and the much-loved Savannah Bar & Grill.

The restaurant was closed.

Bob wasn’t going to get the meal he’d been remembering.

And looking around the resort, it was a reminder that the effects of a natural disaster don’t disappear when the floodwaters go down.

People still have businesses to rebuild.

Staff still have livelihoods to worry about.

And places that once held happy memories can look very different when you return.

Katherine has a long history of flooding. In January 1998, the Katherine River rose dramatically, inundating much of the town and causing widespread devastation.

Almost three decades later, flooding was still shaping life here.

It was sad to see.

Especially knowing how much Bob had been looking forward to coming back.

Lucky gets his boy back

When Tom arrived at our accommodation, Lucky was delighted.

His boy was back.

After spending so many hours each day watching Bob and Tom disappear down the highway, Lucky always seemed pleased when everyone was together again.

The boys were staying in a cabin.

I parked my van behind them.

And I had a little luxury of my own.

My very first ensuite campsite.

An actual bathroom.

Right beside my van.

All to myself.

After weeks of travelling, public amenities, roadhouse showers and whatever facilities we could find along the way, this was rather wonderful.

It’s amazing how quickly your idea of luxury changes when you’re living on the road.

Forget five-star hotels.

Give me a private toilet and shower.

I was delighted.

Crocodiles and a little wallaby

Naturally, I had a wander around the resort.

I found a crocodile.

Well, not a real one.

It was a sign outside the little grocery store at the resort, which sold the usual emergency supplies.

Noodles, sauces, toiletries and all those things you suddenly realise you need when you’re miles from a supermarket.

And then there was a real wallaby.

Much cuter than the crocodile.

By evening, the light around the resort was beautiful.

We’d travelled another 194 kilometres across the Territory.

The boys had finished another enormous ride.

Everyone was together.

And for once, there was no need to rush off again the following morning.

3 July. A day at Katherine Gorge

The following day was our rest day.

And what do you do when you’ve finally got a day off?

Go sightseeing, of course.

We headed out to Katherine Gorge, around 30 kilometres from town, in Nitmiluk National Park.

After so many days travelling along highways, it was lovely to stop and enjoy somewhere without worrying about how many kilometres were left to ride.

We wandered around the visitor precinct, took in the scenery and enjoyed being tourists for a change.

Nitmiluk. More than just a beautiful gorge

Katherine Gorge is part of Nitmiluk National Park, on the traditional lands of the Jawoyn people.

The name Nitmiluk comes from the Jawoyn language and is associated with the cicada dreaming story of the gorge.

What we generally call Katherine Gorge is actually a series of 13 gorges, carved through ancient sandstone by the Katherine River.

And while we were admiring the scenery, it was worth remembering that this landscape has been part of Jawoyn culture for thousands of years.

In 1989, Nitmiluk National Park was handed back to its Aboriginal Traditional Owners.

Today, the park is jointly managed by the Jawoyn Traditional Owners and the Northern Territory Government.

Down to the gorge

We followed the signs towards the river.

Boat tours and canoes were only a short walk away, while the Baruwei Loop and Lookout offered a longer walking option with views over the surrounding sandstone country.

It was a beautiful day.

Blue sky.

Dry bushland.

That extraordinary Territory sunshine.

And, thankfully, nobody had to ride 194 kilometres to get here.

The walking track led down towards the water.

After days of dusty highways and dry country, seeing the Katherine River winding through the trees was lovely.

The water looked peaceful.

Tour boats were moored beside the river, waiting to take visitors through the gorge.

Crocodile country

Of course, there was something else to think about when looking at all that lovely water.

Crocodiles.

Katherine Gorge is home to freshwater crocodiles, and saltwater crocodiles can also enter the gorge system, particularly during the wet season.

Park rangers monitor crocodile activity and use traps to help manage the risk posed by saltwater crocodiles.

Which made me think about those tour boats.

Imagine stepping into one knowing there could be a crocodile somewhere in that water.

I still hadn’t seen a real crocodile.

I’d seen signs.

I’d seen displays.

I’d seen plenty of things warning me about them.

But an actual crocodile?

Not yet.

And I certainly wasn’t going swimming to find one.

A little luxury at the visitor centre

One of the best things about a rest day was being able to eat something that hadn’t come out of the van.

We spent a good deal of our time at the visitor centre enjoying the food.

Proper tables.

Proper chairs.

A menu.

And somebody else doing the cooking.

After weeks of preparing meals in camp kitchens, on the roadside and wherever we happened to stop, this was a rather pleasant change.

Sometimes the simplest things feel like luxuries.

When the river rises

While exploring the area, I photographed a flood level marker beside the road.

It was another reminder of just how different this country can be between the wet and dry seasons.

In July, we were looking at relatively calm water and dry walking tracks.

During the wet season, heavy monsoonal rain can transform the Katherine River into a powerful, fast-flowing waterway.

River levels can rise dramatically, walking tracks can become inaccessible, and sections of the gorge may be closed.

After seeing the damage at Knott’s Crossing Resort, those flood markers meant a little more.

They weren’t just numbers beside the road.

They were a reminder of what water can do.

Remembering Judith O’Brien

While we were at Nitmiluk, I filmed a tribute video for Judith O’Brien.

Judith was Bob’s cousin.

She was the reason MND became such an important part of his life.

Back in 2013, Bob was approaching his 70th birthday and had decided to ride his bicycle from Katoomba to Port Douglas.

Not for any particular cause.

Just something he fancied doing.

Around that time, his cousin Judith had been diagnosed with motor neurone disease.

Bob thought that if he was going to ride all that way anyway, he might as well use the opportunity to raise some money for MND.

And that’s where it all began.

What started as a bicycle ride to celebrate turning 70 became the beginning of years of fundraising, thousands of kilometres on Australian roads and, eventually, this extraordinary journey from Broome to Bowral with his grandson Tom.

Judith died from MND around 12 years ago, but her story continued to travel with Bob.

Even on our days off, the reason for this journey was never far from our minds.

Motor neurone disease.

The people living with it.

The families affected by it.

And the reason an 82-year-old grandfather and his 18-year-old grandson were riding 5,290 kilometres across Australia.

Sometimes it was easy to become caught up in the daily routine.

The kilometres.

The meals.

The packing and unpacking.

The punctures, the heat and the endless search for somewhere suitable to stop.

But now and then, something reminded us why we were out here.

This was never just a bike ride.

Still no real crocodile

Before leaving Katherine, I found another crocodile.

This one was called Hot Lips.

A rather impressive specimen suspended from the ceiling of a shop, with a sign underneath introducing her to everyone.

G’Day, I’m Hot Lips.

Well, hello, Hot Lips.

Another crocodile.

Another one that wasn’t alive.

At this rate, I was beginning to think the only crocodiles I was going to see in the Northern Territory were the ones hanging from ceilings or painted on signs.

Back at camp

By the time we returned to Knott’s Crossing, it was time to get organised for another early start.

The van was parked beneath the trees.

My little ensuite was waiting for me.

And for one more night, nobody had to chase bicycles along the Stuart Highway.

Two nights, then south again

Our two nights in Katherine went quickly.

The next stage would take us south towards Mataranka.

There was also media interest in the ride, with filming planned to capture the boys on the road and help share their extraordinary effort.

More early mornings.

More kilometres.

More Territory heat.

But for now, we’d made it to Katherine.

The boys had another 194 kilometres behind them.

Lucky had his people back together.

And I had my very own ensuite.

Life on the road was pretty good.

From the road Originally posted during the journey on 3 July 2026. View my original Facebook post →

From the road Originally posted during the journey on 2 July 2026.View the original Instagram post →