The Mighty Intrepids get dirty! Bargara to Biloela Qld: Thurs 28 June 2012.

Once again we woke to more drizzling rain and grey skies in Bargara, near Bundaberg; so depressing. Dave said, "This place is feeling like Ground Hog Day, Time to go!" So we packed up our tent in the miserable drizzling rain, while others in caravans were also packing up in a similar mood. Our plan was to ride on to Cania Gorge Caravan Park. Our laptop was showing us that sunny weather was on its way.

I was the good wife following my husband; he was the expert ("Has-Been Drip under Pressure", ha ha!) with the GPS, leading the way. We rode on past a sign that said "Monto - Cania Gorge" on a good bitumen road, but I kept following my husband on my motorbike; he knows what he is doing.

Then ages later we turned off a road which was bitumen, but quickly turned to "Gravel Road". I stopped, Dave stopped, and he told me it was only for a while, "We need to go on."

Being the obedient wife, I followed Mr Intrepid. Such a trusting woman am I.

So, we slipped and slid on our motorbikes for about 15kms on a horrid dirt road. The scenery was nice but sometimes I thought we might end up sliding into the middle of it. Some sections of this gravel road were so muddy and wet, especially in the lower bits, that I had fun trying to keep my motorbike upright, but I did it, pulling on more throttle and relaxing my arms so the handlebars kept upwards and onwards. Dave's trailer in front of me looked fairly steady, so I felt safe, following his line. Ignorance is bliss!

Yesterday our motorbike speaker system "Senna" broke, so we had no helmet to helmet communication happening, which is just as well, because if I had heard my darling Intrepid Dave in front of me I would have heard his curses and epithets as he was terrified by the slippery wet gravel track we had got ourselves onto. I thought it was a "normal" gravel road. Although from behind, his trailer looked like it was going along fine, I did not see his big Honda sliding sideways in front of it as he battled onwards.

We expected the gravel road to turn into a bitumen road soon, and it did. Wowsers Penny! But only for about 200 metres, then back to more scary gravel dirt. Then after more kilometres of heart stopping stuff, we came across a farm ute with sheep dogs in a cage on the back. It was pulling out of a farm gateway. Out got 2 blokes, a father and son, both in big Queensland type hats. "What are you doing?" Dave spoke to them first. Soon we found out that the next 40km was dirt and all downhill, and the young bloke said "The river shouldn't be up too much flooding yet". More discussion from our conveniently sighted guardian angels showed us that it was sheer folly to continue on this gravel track. The father and son farmers then told us that we were actually on a logging truck road and if we didn't get our motorbikes out of the way we would be skittled soon. The young bloke said "If we run like s*** to the crest it's just coz we're warning the trucks you're here". Oops! These nice farmers helped Dave unhitch the trailer to turn his bike around. The father said they were off to "catch a horse" to round up some cattle. He had one leg shorter than the other because he'd had a crash on a motorbike years ago, a 4WD had taken him out, and he told us he "Only trusted horses from now on, because they look where they are going!" His son looked at us wistfully though and said "I'd love to ride a motorbike." He looked so cute wearing his big country hat, like a dude from Deliverance country.

Anyway, after our fortunately timed encounter with our unlikely guardian angels, we decided to turn and go back to the bitumen. Which meant more slipping and sliding on our bikes, this time the camber on the road was rather bad, because it meant the slope was not feeling right for going over the blind crests. Crumbs! Well, luckily no other vehicles were on the roads, but our hearts were in our throats.

At one stage my moto guzzi went almost horizontal both ways; the only thing that stopped me dropping the bike in the slippery mud was "I don't want to send a message to my mechanic for more spare parts to be replaced!" I kept pulling her upwards and powering on the throttle. I had no idea my Mr Intrepid husband was freaking out thinking his bike and trailer was going to end up in the bush.

Anyway, we eventually got back to the bitumen road where we started from and headed off to Mirium Vale for lunch, at a servo called "The Big Crab". Poor Dave looked the most stressed I have ever seen him. He was grey and sick looking, and grumpy. That's when I realised our 30km gravel dirt logging track adventure was not such a doddle after all. He told me it was the "Worst dirt road I've ever been on!" Well, my ignorance was bliss, and I'm glad his helmet speaker didn't spook me.

We made a phone call to a caravan park in Biloela to book a cabin for the night, which was 160km away. A very good choice, as we were b*****ed from our unexpected adventures for the day. We ended up having a great meal for $10 each at the caravan park; a bbque night, which was mainly for the coal miners in the camp, but it was a magnificent feast for us weary Mighty Intrepids.

Next day, in the morning I got into trouble from Mr Intrepid for uncontrollable laughing at the memory of our adventures yesterday on the dirt roads. He still didn't think it was funny, but I did. A happy ending is always a good one!

And then we headed off from our Biloela cabin, after first stopping at a car wash place to clean all the mud off our bikes and trailer. Then we rode off to Cania Gorge Caravan Park in glorious sunshine, and set up our tent there. We've met lots of lovely camp people around a camp fire here, and we're looking forward to some great bushwalks for the next few days.

The scenery here at Cania Gorge is gorgeous!

By the way, Dave is nominating me as an entry into the next Dakar Rally. (An endurance dirt motorcycling event for those who don't know.) And he says I am to shoot him if he suggests we go on more gravel roads.

I couldn't do that; I love him too much. Besides, he cracks me up with his silly ideas for adventures.