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Old 09-15-2013, 12:45 AM   #1
Captain Awesome
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Joined: Apr 2007
Location: Middle Park, Brisbane, Australia
Oddometer: 7,856
Failed trip to the Flinders Rangers S/Australia.

After moving city, and then moving house three times in the last two years, as well as several different jobs, I was finally in the position to do a decent trip again and the departure date was that morning.

I had originally booked holidays with the intention of crossing the Simpson Desert, but money and time problems put an end to that…

That and a few people said I was going to die if I tried it…

So I changed my plans to go to Birdsville, the start (or finish) of most popular Simpson crossing routes, spend a day in the desert having a play and evaluating what I would be up against for the planed crossing next year.

And then my lovely wife pointed out that the Birdsville races were on that weekend, and so I would have to contend with the expected 10 to 15 thousand people expected to hit the small desert community, and traveling the dry dusty roads in the opposite direction of hundreds of buses and four wheel drives.


Change of plans a week put and I was heading the Flinders Ranges in South Australia.

I was a bit disappointed until I started reading about the area, its stunning scenery and its legendary riding.

I had a few hundred dollars in my bank account more than I expected, so I gave my trusty 640 a going over, changed the tyres for a set I had laying around, put new wheel bearings in because mine started to look a bit dodgy, and hoped like hell the rust spots I found on the forks wouldn’t tear the hell out of the seals.

So having prepped the bike for the run better than I had done before I jokingly said to a few people that I was now going to break down in the middle of nowhere because the bike is so ready.

It was 4 in the morning when I decided to get out of bed and get ready to go, my bike was packed the night before and all I really had to do was get dressed, pack my toothbrush and go.

But I at a low breakfast, double checked everything, and sometime around 5:30 I struggled to get the bike to the top of our steep driveway, kick the old girl into life, point it west ward and go.

The first day of my week long trip was all about getting me to a good starting point.

I had picked the small town of Thargomindah about 1000K of boring highway to the west of where I started, from there it was going to be pretty much dirt for the 500 or so K to the Flinders and very little tar until I was about 1000K from home on the way home.

Well that was the plan anyway.

The morning was a bit chilly as I hit out westward through Toowoomba, picked my way through the road works to Dalby, took a wrong turn and followed the wrong highway for two or three klms, and hit my first stop at the small crossroad location of Moonie.

They apparently have the world’s biggest wild pig exhibit or something.

But I was more interested in eating my crumbed sausage, drinking my instant coffee and buggering off.

I had hit St George next, another deep fried bit of mystery meat and then settled in for the 300K to Cunnamulla.

Nothing happened, and that was great as far as I was concerned.

I took more fuel on board at Cunnamulla, and gave the bike a quick check over and found there was oil all over the engine, down the swingarm and on the rear wheel…
I checked the oil sight window and saw it was low on oil.

And the inner mudguard end of the muffler and numberplate are covered in black sooty oil

Oh crap, I thought, and then grabbed the bottle of oil I had stashed in my bashplate only to find it empty.

I was kind of relieved to find the oil came from the oil bottle getting a hole in it from buzzing around in the bashplate, but it left me with only 250mm of spare oil in a container that was not going to fit into where it needed to go to top up the oil.

So I go back into the servo in search of oil, and find nothing bike specific.

So I head into town looking for a bike shop, find one that was closed, continued on to find another servo so I thought I’d try there.

So I’m looking over the few assembled bottles of oil and notice the old guy behind the counter has finished talking to the bloke I assume he was serving, and is now looking at me.

I decided I had better say something, and so in my best indoors grown up voice I say “I’m just chasing a bottle of motorcycle specific…”


The, what I assumed to be customer looks at the bottles and says “My son uses that Castrol TT shit, is that what you want?”

“I just want some oil that can go in my bike…”

So after they give up trying to sell my two stroke motor mower oil, the tell me to go back down the street to Landmark (a sort of rural bit of everything you need for the farm shop looking thing) because “they got that Castrol TTS shit or what ever its called”.

So I pick up a bottle of some Castrol mineral stuff after convincing the sales kid that I don’t really care about it being better value in the 4L bottle, and 1L would be much more convenient for me and my mode of traveling at this time.

So I leave town, and as I’m looking down a road to see if any cars are coming, I notice a big red “S” on a shop, and wonder why the guys at the servo didn’t just send me to that bike shop that was holding up the giant red “S”.

Surly that shop sells oil as well as holing that “S” up all day…

I sop out of town and top up the oil (which wasn’t that bad) and then try and remember checking it after doing the oil change before I left, and that is one thing I can’t seem to do.

I hit Eulo about 60K later and thought how much of a little Australian town it is the way it had cattle grazing in the main street.

And then it was all dodging road kill, goats and emus on the last leg of the day.

It amused me the way people seemed to forget all about mirrors and road rules once you get a certain distance from the coast.

I went to overtake a small bus on a narrow section of road when it wandered into the opposite side of the road just as I was overtaking it, and forcing me onto the gravel.

I thought it was a bit rude until I saw the driver jump when he noticed a bike and rider just outside his window.

Not 5 mins down the road I had to hit the brakes as a 4x4 towing a caravan decided that it was going the wrong way and the best course of action was to do a U turn without looking.

I didn’t have to hit the brakes hard, and I was in no danger of hitting it, but if I was a truck or a bus…

Well I’d be pretty useless I guess because I can’t tow anything or carry passengers, but if a truck or a bus had of been where I was in at that moment, instead of me being there because that would have ruined my day if myself and a truck or a bus were occupying the exact same bit of road at the exact same time…
Well anyway you know what I mean…

And the other thing I noticed out there is that they are still very backward in there racial thinking…

So I made sure all my valuables were secured and made my way into Thargomindah.

Fuel and accommodation was in order, with fuel first.
All my tanks got topped up in preparation of some big distances without seeing anyone tomorrow, and was a bit pissed to see the previous owner of my rear tanks had put some screws into the side of them at one stage, and one of these screw holes started to leak.

I found some small self-tapping screws that worked a treat to plug the hole, found no oil and then went in search of a patch of dirt to pitch my tent.

The nice lady talked me into getting a cabin for the night, and I thought it would be good so I could leave early and not have to pack up a tent and crap.

I had a nice night in the communal kitchen chatting with a nice couple with a wife who kept trying to get her husband to tell me about his bike and how fast it goes, and as I was getting some hot water for my coffee on my way out, the guy from the cabin beside me was doing the same and asking about my bike.
“It’s a KTM 640 Adventure.”
“Oh, a Charlie Bormann special type thing?”

I don’t quite know what he meant, I wasn’t drinking a latte… It was a mocha, one of those mocha type thing that comes in a packet all ready mixed with whitener…

Purely for the convenience…
I was packed and out of there just as the sun was rising and it was a glorious looking morning.


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Old 09-15-2013, 12:57 AM   #2
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Joined: Apr 2007
Location: Middle Park, Brisbane, Australia
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This was the day I had been looking forward to since I parked my bike from a trip around Tassie almost two years earlier.

I did a few laps around town trying to remember which road I wanted, before taking a punt and getting it right (not that impressive considering there was only two options).

And it wasn’t long before I was of the tar and not expecting to see any for a while.

It was a perfect morning barrelling down some nice gravel roads on my all time favourite bike, the temperature was just right and there was no breeze so the dust I was kicking up just hung in the air for ages.

There are a few gates to go through.

And I saw a boat beside the road that is apparently closed…

It was just one of those perfect days that don’t seem to come around too often, and I was really looking forward to the next week of exploring more of the country.

The problem with some of these little used roads is there lack of signage.

I was tearing along one section when the road suddenly split in two with nothing indicating what road goes where.

The road on the right looked like it had seen more traffic lately, but the one on the left “felt” like it was the one to follow.

So I hit the left fork and tried to block out the little nagging voice in the back of my mind that wasn’t convinced, but a few more K down the road, another track joined the road I was on and I could see that it was the rode that I chose not to ride.

And so I felt like I had a little victory by choosing the right road, even thought they were both the right road…

I had no idea how far I had traveled when I eventually came to a sign pointing to Bulloo Downs station, and another pointing to some station beginning with “T” that I couldn’t recall ever hearing of before, and I knew I had to go near Bulloo Downs o get where I was going, and it looked like the right road because the other one just went to a couple of gates.

So I turned down the road, rode through the middle of Bullo Downs station, thought the road went a bit close to houses, followed it out the other side and into some cattle yards…

I had clearly taken a wrong turn, so I whip out my map and it confirms I should have gone straight at the sign…

So I turn around as quiet and raising as little dust as I can and try to make my escape before I disturb them anymore, when I see a cloud of dust coming from the homestead heading my way.

So I pull up figuring they were coming to tell me to bugger off, they pull up and look at me.

“Err, I think I took a wrong turn, if I go back to that sign and turn right is that the right road to Cameron Corner?”

“Yeah go back to that road with the sign on it that says Trig, Trent, Tra-something or other and head that way.”

“Thanks, umm, you do know you’re dragging the chain don’t you?”

“Yeah.” And they continue on their way in an old open top four wheel drive dragging about 5 meters of chain…

So if you’re out this way and you come to this sign, keep heading straight.

I have no idea how I didn't recognise the name "Tibooburra".

So through a few more gates, down more fun roads, a stop to make sure the oil isn’t moving and it is still an awesome day.

Tree covered sand hills started to appear as I rode closer to the desert and I was getting a bit excited.

At the next gate crossing I lent the 640 on a post as I closed the gate and noticed the subframe bolt was missing and the lower bar of the subframe was swinging in the breeze.

A quick search found the correct bolt (I remembered packing it) and I did a little victory dance, and then went about replacing it.

I had everything lined up, started screwing it in, but it didn’t seem to be taking hold and the bar of the subframe was jumping of the end of the bolt…

Something is wrong here.

So I pear into the hole and see part of the bolt is still in there.

“Oh bother!” I said loudly.

I tried with various screw drivers to get it to move but nothing was working.

“Gosh darn it!” I exclaimed.

I couldn’t get the bolt out, and I could do some serious damage to the bike if I tried to continue.

I tried to get as much weight of the rear as I could and started of slowly toward the next road that would take me out of there.
It was looking like my short lived holiday was over.


Of course, drat, darn it, and gosh may not have been the words I used, but I think the words I used were something like that…
Picking my way other the shitty rocky track this awesome road had now become. I started making plans to get myself and the bike home.

I’d head to Nocundra, borrow some tools, and fix it as well as I could to get me home.

Then I thought if I could fix it well enough to get me home, I could fix it well enough to continue on my way, and if I could fix it Nocundra, there is no reason I couldn’t fix it at Cameron Corner.

So my plans went back to the original plans and my annoyance at the whole situation lessoned.

So it hit mainish road, and my memory of the map was that I had to head south for 2 klms and I’d come to the turn of I needed to get to Cameron Corner.


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Old 09-15-2013, 01:09 AM   #3
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Joined: Apr 2007
Location: Middle Park, Brisbane, Australia
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After a few K I came to a well used road, but it had only two station names on separate signs, and the turn off I was looking for had a big sign with shit loads of place names and an old tyre hanging from one of the posts, so I continued on in search of the road.

After 5 or so K I still hadn’t found it and decided the map must be wrong and it must be north of the road I I came from, so I turned around and headed back the way I came swearing at Hema for producing inaccurate maps and being really pissed at them for putting unnecessary strain on my existing subframe bolts.

Riding past the first road I came to I decided to stop and reconsult my maps.

It was about in the right spot, but the two stations it mentioned were way north of where I thought I was, so I just shut down the bike and looked around.

Once again this road just felt like it was the right road, and I noticed that there seemed to be way to many poles in the ground for two station signs, and then I noticed a few more posts sitting on the ground in the bush.

I think the sign has been nicked I think to myself, and head off down the unknown road.

It wasn’t long before I came to a familiar sign, and that improved my overall mood.

Isn’t it amazing the way people start writing on, and sticking stickers on signs as soon as get out into these lonely places…

The sand dunes started to appear more readily and what seemed like a very short time I was pulling up out the front of the corner store.

There was a couple out front eating lunch when I arrived, I said hello, hoped of the bike and inspected the damage to the swingarm.

“Got a problem?”
“Yeah, Subframe bolts broken off and stuck in there.”
“Where you headed”
“Home if I can’t get this bolt out and another in.”
“I’ll just finish me lunch, and then take it to the shed to see what we can do.”
“And I’ll go and have a beer while you finish lunch.”
It would be rude not to…

So my beer was had, I went to grab the bike and another bloke offered his services, I didn’t care who did it as long as it got done.

So of to the shed, the guy brakes out the drill and attacks my bike.

At this stage I’m really starting to wish I had made more of an effort to try and get the drill off him so I can do it, but I just hold the bike and hope he knows what he is doing.
After a few failed attempts to extract the bolt, he decides to put a longer bolt through and a nut on the end.

I stop him and point out that there isn’t enough clearance, he says there is, and then I ask him to take another look, and he changes his mind.

We end up getting another bolt in from the other side and a nut on the outside, he burrs the end over with a hammer and chisel, and its job done.

I’m incredibly grateful to this guy for saving my holiday and tell him so a few times.

I fuel up the bike (front tank only, I drained the rear tanks first and didn’t want to risk putting any unnecessary weight on the subframe), offered him money for fixing my bike, which he refused saying that because he was a bike rider himself he didn’t like charging guys on bikes, I was on my way again to the Flinders.

I checked the time before I left, and I was still on schedule, which was a surprise.

I had settled into the seat and was just letting my mind wander thinking how much of a relief it was to have a bolt in there, and how boring this road was compared to what I had been riding in the morning, when I had a look down at the newly added bit of metal to my bike when my heart sank.

The nut was coming off…

I stopped, tightened it as best I could, but could feel it wasn’t enough.

It was the last straw, I knew I was going to stress about it even if it didn’t fail, but I knew it would fail before I got to far.

Gutted, I turned and headed for home.

I briefly considered dropping back into the corner store to try again, but a wave of depression came over me and I just wanted to be home.

I briefly thought about going back the way I came, but thought the relatively smoother and better travelled road to Tibooburra was a smarter option while I was nursing a wounded bike.

I went through the dog fence and into NSW, tried to look slightly less depressed as I waved to some other tourists just inside the fence and headed down another boring road.

Not far into the state I looked down to see the bolt had loosened again, I stopped, tightened it as best I could, burred the end as best I could, and then added the last of my oil into the thirsty beast, making a mental note to replace the countershaft and gear lever seals when I got home.

I decided not to look at the bolt anymore because I would be stuck out there all night if I stopped to tighten it every time it came loose.

I had done a few hundred K without a bolt in there so a few hundred more won’t hurt.

Generally hated the world about half an hour later, the bike started dying, coughing then coming back to life, and then lurching and dying a whole bunch of times, like it wasn’t quite getting enough fuel.

It had happened to me once before when I ran out of fuel on the main tank and switched to one of the rear tanks, but cleared up when I fuelled up and went back to the main.

But it came out of the blue this time, and it just made me really pissed at the world.

I tried taking the fuel cap off to see if it was a venting problem, it wasn’t, and then I couldn’t get the cap back on.
I didn’t want to stop in case I couldn’t get the old girl going again, but eventually found that if I sat on 97 KPH it would keep going.

But my speed would creep up, it would cough and fart, Id back of to 90, bring it back to 97 and it would all be good again.
About half an hour passed, and the problem seemed to disappear.

I pulled into Tibooburra around 4:30, and decided I wasn’t going to get home the next day so I wouldn’t push it and got a room.

I was not in the mood to set up a tent and I had some spare cash now that I was heading home way to early.

I was glad to be near a TV though, because the North Queensland Cowboys were playing a must win game that night and I really wanted to have a beer and watch it.

Unfortunately there was also an election on, and all but one channel where televising that, so I had some weird ethnic cooking show on TV while I sat on my phone getting updates on the internet.

I did have a rather tasty dish I made using some mash potato powder stuff, a tin of tuna and some other crap I had in my bag.

That night I looked at my maps deciding on the best way home, and thought I might be able to salvage something from the trip if by taking the way through Bourke and make the most of it and doing the touristy thing that way.

And so I went to bed looking forward to restarting my trip, just on a smaller scale and nowhere near as interesting.


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Old 09-15-2013, 01:14 AM   #4
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Joined: Apr 2007
Location: Middle Park, Brisbane, Australia
Oddometer: 7,856
The next morning dawned into another perfect day, the bike was packed quickly and before I jumped aboard to leave I noticed the low rocky hill behind the hotel and caravan park.

I was in a great mood and I thought I’d just jump on the bike, ride over and take a few quick pics.

So I swung a leg over the 640 and flopped down into the seat, and sat there fuming.

I think if some poor unfortunate bastard had off said anything to me I would have torn there head off.

When I sat down the bike sunk and then sprang back way faster than it should have.

I thought back to the afternoon before and I thought I should have a look at what the rebound was set at because it needed more, and now I knew why.

Add blown shock to the list of repairs for when (if) I get home.

The servo was still closed when I went to drop the key off, but as I was just about to start the bike I heard someone ask if they could help me, I told them I was just dropping my key off, handed it to her and started chatting.
She asked which way I was going, I told her, and then she said the road was very rocky for the first 40k, then grate, but then deteriorates badly after Wanaaring, and some guys that had come through yesterday on bikes had a few little offs in the sand there.

I explained my situation, and she suggested heading north toward Noccundra, and then back the way I came would be the least dirt and easiest on the bike.

The most boring way I could think off as well as the safest…

Defeated yet again I turned north and headed for home.

I was just leaving town when I noticed a little park with some old farm gear and a boat up on poles.

Boats seem to be a common thing out here, and I was imaging the discussion that brought so many boats out this way.

In my head t was a mayor of a small town telling a small group of farmers that they needed something to attract the city folk out there when the do decide to go bush for a look, when one of them speaks up saying “How about a boat? I aint never done seen one in real life, I would go out of my way to see one…”
And so it was decided that a boat would draw people to the town and all was well until the mayor is watching TV one day and the show a marina…

The mayor jumps out of his chair spilling his beer screaming “Those bastards stole our idea!!!”

Actually I think that one was a replica of a boat that was dragged there by an early explorer so he could cross the inland sea that the early Australians thought was there.

Anyway, I went to get back on the bike when I noticed fuel pissing out of the carby overflow.

“Fucking great…” I really couldn’t give a rats arse about it now and just ride off.

I passed a couple of trucks just out of town, which was unexpected.

I crossed the dog fence again to get back into Queensland, and noticed the fuel had stopped leaking.


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Old 09-15-2013, 01:28 AM   #5
Captain Awesome
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Joined: Apr 2007
Location: Middle Park, Brisbane, Australia
Oddometer: 7,856
I was just beginning to think my luck was beginning to change when the coughing and farting appeared for a brief second, and then the bike died.

I tried kicking it back to life, but it wasn’t happening.

“Blooming heck!” I may have said, or it may have been slightly more vulgar, can’t quite recall.

After checking everything and swearing some more, I just hit the starter with the intention of draining the battery to make me feel better (well that’s about all I thought it would do), but to my surprise, it chugged a few times, then came to life, and promptly died just as I threw my leg over it.

I was pretty much emotionless at this stage, and gave the kick starter another stab and to my surprise she fired up again, and this time stayed running all the way up until I hit 110 kph, then died until I hit 92 and would only run nicely if I sat at or below 97.

What seemed like hours later I saw a bearded dragon dart across the road, and noticed it was a different colour to the others I had been seeing and very similar to the one my wife has at home, so I stop and turn around to get a pic, but he has disappeared, so I decide I don’t want to shut the bike down anyway and go to move of when I hear a metallic “tung” sound like something hitting the spokes.

I look down at the rear to see some barbed wire is now part of the swing arm.

Engine off, stand down and off the bike, the first thing I notice is the bearded dragon sitting a few meters away from me, so I snap a few pics,

and then remove the wire surprisingly quickly.

And then the bike starts surprisingly quickly…

I take off suspiciously.

I roll onto the bitumen, and then Noccundra not long after, fuel up, have a beer and talk about how much I don’t give a shit about the election and I wanted to watch the game, and then buggered off.

I had a brief stop at Thargomindah to look at their old artesian driven hydro power station display.

And an old house.

And then went on to the road I had traveled just a few days before…

Fuel at Cunnamulla, again…

And surprised myself by making St George before sun set.

A KDX is way cooler than what ever you ride...
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Old 09-15-2013, 01:33 AM   #6
Captain Awesome
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Joined: Apr 2007
Location: Middle Park, Brisbane, Australia
Oddometer: 7,856
I stopped at the servo for fuel, a burger chips and an apple juice.

The apple juice was a last second thing, I haven’t had one in ages.

And then it was off to the caravan park I once stayed in on another aborted trip.

Getting of the bike at the cabin I had rented, I was heartbroken to see my apple juice had fallen of in the short ride from the servo to the caravan park, and it had disappeared by the time I went back to look for it…

So with a dry throat, I unpacked, ate and did some repairs to try and get me home.

I thought I’d drain the carby in the hope it was just some crap in there, it looked a bit crappy when I took the drain bolt out, but not incredibly shit.

I put the drain bolt back in and was just thinking I didn’t want to put to much pressure on it because I’d hate to strip in, when the suddenly, spanner came free.

I knew what had happened but I was afraid to look, and when I did, I was confronted with the snapped of head of the bolt.

After the shock of losing my apple juice, this was getting a bit much.

I did the first thing anyone would do and started a “Help” thread, then had a cup of coffee and thought about it.

I had just had the brilliant idea of using metal putty to hold it in, when I checked the thread and someone had just mentioned it.

So with renewed enthusiasm I dug into my gear looking for the metal putty that I clearly remember packing, and no I had to move it to find the bolt I was looking for when I first saw the snapped bolt.

But predictably, it had vanished, but I still had some radiator and fuel tank repair epoxy that should work.

Unfortunately on part of the epoxy had hardened and the next morning it had not set.

So I did a mad dash to look for my apple juice again and get some more metal putty.

No luck on the apple juice, but I did get some epoxy stuff that the guy at the servo assured me is what I wanted and not the quick drying stuff I asked for.

Anyway, 2 hours later, fix number 2 was still very putty like in its consistency, but I had to leave because it was getting past the 10 am check out time, so I took a punt and left town.

Not far down the road the bike started to die.

I said some swear words, but it came good again, and then died.

So I pulled over and checked the carb, it was still holding, so I guessed it was that old problem returning.

And I was right.

It was a slow boring trip to Moonie, where I grabbed a bite to eat and fueled up.

And thankfully nothing happened when I got to Dalby, and a short time later I was heading away from Toowoomba on the final leg toward home.

I have never been so glad to see home, and as I coasted down the driveway, around the back of the shed to park the old girl in the spot it still sits in now, I sat for a moment and thought.

Under my breath I said “You have been good to me over the years old girl, but it’s time for you to go.”

And now, just under a week from that moment, I’m watching the last half an hour of an eBay auction, hoping someone will bid on the bloody thing, because I’ll just end up keeping it if it doesn’t get sold…

A KDX is way cooler than what ever you ride...
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Old 09-15-2013, 02:12 AM   #7
waiting for the big one
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Joined: Mar 2005
Location: Melbourne
Oddometer: 2,474
Good stuff mate! The trials and tribulations. But you got out there!!
If the 640 doesn't sell... pm me, I have things your's needs!
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Old 09-15-2013, 03:05 AM   #8
Gnarly Adventurer
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Joined: Jun 2006
Location: Camperdown NSW
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Must have been that black cat you killed with the mirror you broke
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Old 09-22-2013, 01:29 AM   #9
so little time
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Joined: May 2008
Location: south australia,ceduna
Oddometer: 2,050
thats an adv ride i reckon,always next time trev..the flinders is worth another go.
nothing sweet about me
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Old 09-22-2013, 01:48 AM   #10
Tryin Hard
Joined: Apr 2006
Location: sydney
Oddometer: 2,984
what a great read mate - many times you get a better (or just different?) perspective when the plan unrolls in the first 30 seconds :)

Hope you have better luck next time.
He immediately paid me the one of the highest compliments an Advrider can receive: "You're nuts!" (Alcan Rider)
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Old 09-22-2013, 02:18 AM   #11
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Joined: Jul 2005
Location: Australia SE QLD
Oddometer: 360
"it'll all be ok in the end.......if it's not ok, it's not the end"

Now that's an adventure, thx for sharing :)
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Old 09-22-2013, 02:21 AM   #12
Aussie Trev
aka DRTrev
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Joined: Nov 2007
Location: Gawler, South Australia
Oddometer: 5,949
What a saga! Bad luck mate, but at the same time what a fantastic effort to get home. Shame about the Flinders but if you put the first weekend in April in your calendar, we are running the 7th Flinders Ranges Classic up there with about 100 starters. I can offer you guided tours, some cold beer, fine red wines and a great group of people to enhance your Flinders experience........
2011 Triumph Tiger 800XC
1982 PE175Z
Full member......Quorn Schnitzel Club

"Just having a crack"
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Old 09-22-2013, 02:58 AM   #13
hunting and riding!!
theMISSIONARY's Avatar
Joined: May 2006
Location: Devonport Tazmania
Oddometer: 2,235
well Rob and i could come up for a "Flinders" ride......but you do know when the 640 plays up we will be there for telling you how Awesome the WR250r is whilst doing doughnuts and rob dreaming up some wild idea for fixing it.....that would involve all sorts of Machinery that is not on Hand

sounds good........right?!

hmm..... now to find that time and money
Happiness is a warm barrel....i don't care if its the bikes barrel or the rifles barrel!

WR250r of with extra added Awesomeness!
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Old 09-22-2013, 03:56 AM   #14
Joined: Dec 2009
Location: Ottawa
Oddometer: 74
Wow, and that's your favorite bike? Cool story but what a frustrating piece of machinery.
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Old 09-22-2013, 05:08 AM   #15
Captain Awesome
tHEtREV's Avatar
Joined: Apr 2007
Location: Middle Park, Brisbane, Australia
Oddometer: 7,856
Not really.

She had been almost faultless for nearly 70000k and 5 years.

I usually kill a bike in under 2 years.

I have fixed most of the things that went wrong already and I'm expecting another few years out of it yet (if I don't sell it).

The 640 Adventure is an awesome bike for that kind of riding.

A KDX is way cooler than what ever you ride...
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