Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
dunes and the saltbush extending into the gloom. It was back to us again: just the
sand and the isolation.
For us, there was no free ride. Every mile cost effort. Out here, every metre was
a struggle. The train had passed through like an alien spaceship in an uninhabited
world. Like a time machine from the advanced, civilised future flashing moment-
arily through our basic, fundamental present.
Tim gingerly prodded another dried biscuit of horse dung onto the stinking little
pile of smouldering embers, then balanced a pot of water carefully on top. 'Better
pray that this track improves tomorrow.'
We were up before dawn and back to pushing through the sand as the first shafts
of sun illuminated the eastern sky. We gradually moved off the plain and into some
low dunes which made the going even tougher - sandy and steep. But by late morn-
ing, we could see that the dunes were levelling out into a sort of plateau about a
kilometre ahead.
We stopped for lunch, having come, we guessed, about ten kilometres. It wasn't
nearly far enough in terms of our water supplies; but then, the terrain ahead looked
more promising and we could only hope that the going would improve. I smeared
jam on my last crust of bread and munched on it thoughtfully. I looked at Tim. He
was absolutely feral. Ingrained dirt had turned his skin darker than the locals', and
a matted fox-fur collar that he'd added to his windstopper jacket hung limply next
to his wild and equally grungy beard. He also looked gaunt and starving. He was
staring intently at something near my feet.
'Hey, mate,' he said, salivating. 'If you're not going to eat that, can I have it?'
I shifted my gaze down and saw that he was pointing at a small piece of bread
that I'd accidentally dropped. The sticky jam topping was covered in sand and dust
from the track.
I looked back up, struggling to keep a straight face. 'Why, sure! Help yourself.
I've had enough anyway.'
An hour after lunch, for the first time in a day, we were able to ride our bikes
again!
'Whooohoooo!' I yelled in jubilation, as I rocketed along at a fast walking pace,
then, 'Ughhhh!' I promptly crashed again in a patch of sand.
We snuck under the railway where it crossed over another dry creekbed and
made our way along faint tracks - still unused, but slightly firmer - until we saw
a man on horseback. He galloped over, boggle eyed, and politely asked where the
hell we'd just come from. We pointed out the route - our tyre and foot tracks were
