23 June 2026

The long road east

The boys were up and away before us.

Bob and Tom left Willare early, while Jenny and I stayed behind long enough to have breakfast, pack up camp and get the vans back onto the road.

That became the rhythm of our days.

The boys rode. We packed. Then we went looking for them.

Somewhere further along the Great Northern Highway, we would find the boys and pull over somewhere safeish for what became known as second breakfast.

By Day 2, the roadside kitchen was already taking shape.

Chairs came out. The little table appeared. Out came the butane cookers, the kettle, the frypan, the water bottles and whatever else we could find. Lucky stayed attached to the tea towel rack inside my van because there wasn’t anywhere safe for him to wander.

And my culinary standards were already reaching extraordinary heights.

Two-minute noodles with a fried egg on top.

Ramen, eat your heart out.

Bob and Lucky

While Jenny and I prepared food, Bob found something considerably more important to do.

Cuddle Lucky.

Bob loved dogs, and Lucky certainly wasn’t going to object.

It was one of those tiny moments that had nothing to do with kilometres, fundraising or crossing Australia, but looking back, those are often the photographs that tell the story best.

The Kimberley begins to change

For much of the road out of Broome, the country had felt incredibly flat.

Now the landscape was beginning to change.

Large rock formations appeared in the distance, and the vegetation changed with them. Along the highway, boab trees began appearing, some with those enormous swollen trunks and others not nearly so swollen. We would continue seeing them for a long way yet.

At 11:29 am, the temperature showing in the van was 28°C.

Tom recorded the temperature of the road surface at 40°C.

In these first days across the Kimberley, Tom was drinking around 11 litres of electrolyte water a day. As his body adjusted to the riding and the conditions, what he ate on the bike changed too. The lollies he’d been using for quick energy disappeared, replaced by things like sultanas and muesli bars.

Then there was the wind.

For Bob and Tom, 234 km was already a very long day on bicycles. Add strong headwinds and a road surface sitting at 40°C, and every kilometre became harder.

From inside the air-conditioned van, the highway could look deceptively simple.

Straight road. Blue sky. Dry grass.

On a bicycle, it was another story.

30 km to go

Late in the afternoon we reached the FC 30 marker.

Thirty kilometres to Fitzroy Crossing.

In a vehicle, it isn’t much.

On a bicycle, after riding most of the day into headwinds, it was still more than an hour on the road.

We pulled over and waited for Bob and Tom to catch us.

Lucky watched from the driver’s window. There were many times during the trip when he couldn’t get out. The highway was too close, and in places there was barely a shoulder at all.

Once we knew the boys were okay, Lucky and I went ahead.

My job was to reach the campground first and find somewhere suitable for both vans before everyone else arrived.

Fitzroy Crossing

The sun was getting low by the time we reached Fitzroy Crossing.

I made camp while there was still daylight.

Jenny arrived around dusk.

Bob and Tom came in just after her.

They had left at about 5 am and ridden 234 km, finally reaching Fitzroy Crossing around 5 pm.

Twelve hours after starting, Day 2 was done.

Our home for the night was Fitzroy River Lodge, an Indigenous-owned tourism business operated by Leedal Pty Ltd, trustee for the Fitzroy Crossing Trust. Leedal represents six beneficiary Indigenous organisations from communities across the Fitzroy Valley.

The vans were parked.

Bob headed for a shower.

And before long, there he was with his customary XXXX beer in hand.

Somehow, after a day spent beside one of Australia’s longest and loneliest highways, we were sitting down to bread dipped in olive oil and dukkah.

It seemed strangely elegant in the middle of the Kimberley.

234 km down.

Tomorrow: Fitzroy Crossing to Mimbi Caves.