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For Colin Jones (1941–2019)
Foreword
Two of my fondest moments cycling in Australia are two of my most challenging rides: riding west to east over the Nullarbor Plain from Norseman to Ceduna in Western Australia, and south to north on the Telegraph Track to Cape York in Queensland’s far north. Achievements aside — and, likewise, appreciation for the beautiful surrounds — my satisfaction came from knowing I had followed a route so rich in cycling history.
Riding across both routes conjured recollections of an era that, until recently, had not received the recognition it deserves. It was an era that began in the 1890s when intrepid souls, who became known as ‘overlanders’, set off into the unknown of inland Australia. On bikes laden with a swag, dried meat and water — as well as a rifle and ammunition for hunting and protection — they rode with only camel pad tracks and a rising and setting sun to guide them.
Arthur Richardson, the first to cycle across the Nullarbor Plain in 1896 and then 13,100 kilometres around Australia in 1889–90, was foremost in my mind as I rode the Plain during the 2017 and 2018 Indian Pacific Wheel Race, a 5,471-kilometre solo unsupported ride from Fremantle to Sydney via Port Augusta, Adelaide, Geelong, Melbourne, the Victorian Alps, Kosciusko National Park, Canberra, the Southern Highlands and Wollongong.
While riding on bitumen towards the next roadhouse and glancing at the vast expanse, I wondered how Richardson endured so many unknowns. From navigating his way through the exposed sandy terrain, to attaining his food and water supplies, and having to find a safe location to stop and set up camp.
That feeling was similar when I rode a mountain bike through the bush, the sand and the humidity of the wasp-stricken Telegraph Track on the Versent TourXOz 2019, a 650-kilometre charity tour for mental health. Amid the frustration of many falls, I couldn’t help but question how the hell Francis Birtles was able to ride the 350-kilometre track in 1918 during a 900-kilometre journey to ‘The Cape’.
It is remarkable that Australia can provide cyclists with such links between the challenging rides of today and yesteryear, and there are many, many more routes that are just as rich in history.
Australia is a vast continent blessed with myriad roads, trails and tracks that are also aligned with the history of the overlanding cyclists. In Dan Oakman’s Wild Ride, these cycling routes wonderfully come back to life. Dan not only delves into the feats and personalities of the iconic figures of Richardson and Birtles, but also into a swag of riders from the 1890s to today, from the likes of the pioneering Sarah Maddock, Joe Murif, Joe Pearson and Eddie ‘Ted’ Reichenbach, to Sir Hubert Opperman, Shirley Duncan, Wendy Law and Ernie Old, and to more contemporary adventurers like Kate Leeming, Sam Johnson, Tom Richards and Tegan Streeter.
Thanks to their daring and determination to ride where others had not, a plethora of bike adventures with historic significance still await today’s adventurer. Today, these roads, tracks and trails allow cyclists to reconnect with their legacy. And with this great collection of ripping yarns, Dan pays tribute to Australia’s ‘wild riders’.
Rupert Guinness, sports writer and author. His books include Overlander: One Man’s Epic Ride Across Australia and Power of the Pedal: The Story of Australian Cycling.
Introduction
To cross Australia on a bicycle, piercing the very heart of the continent, facing dangers, some known and more unknown — it was the very thing.
— Jerome Murif, Australian cyclist, 1897
Bicycles changed everything. They changed not only the way people moved, they also offered a thrilling new way to see and encounter the world. Cheaper, faster and less trouble than a horse, bicycles also reignited Australia’s desire for adventure and exploration — a desire that soon became an obsession. Hardy explorers and otherwise sensible city dwellers were soon possessed by the urge to pit themselves against the vastness of the Australian continent. No proposition was too daring, no risk too great.
This book tells the story of the cyclists who were overcome by the need to venture forth on two wheels, those courageous men and women who undertook some of the most epic bicycle journeys of all time. While many of Australia’s bicycle pioneers rode to beat records or be the first, others set out for no other reason than to immerse themselves in the wild. They willingly surrendered themselves to their fate in a land at once majestic, magical and hostile. Fortunately for us, these pioneers were not content merely to ride. They wanted to share their experience with like-minded folk. And Australian readers devoured their stories — heady accounts filled with unbridled wonder, drama and derring-do.
Bicycle adventurers enjoyed bragging about their amazing journeys and the country they had seen with fresh eyes, and rightfully so. Yet, for all their swaggering audacity, the tales they told sometimes showed a surprisingly subtle appreciation of the land they encountered. While many were profoundly ignorant of life beyond the cities — most notably that of Indigenous Australians — they all emerged from their experiences entirely transformed. In turn, their stories helped shape the way Australians understood the land and its people.
In another way, these stories were a subtle dig at the ‘Mother Country’. They were a kind of mocking raspberry, blown hard at Great Britain and her genteel, middle-class cyclists who set off for delightful weekend spins along country lanes with cucumber sandwiches and tea. Collectively, these Australian tales were proof that those exiled on what for the British was the other side of the planet had more than enough grit and mettle to conquer, occupy and thrive in the barren Antipodean wilderness.
In the decades following the Second World War, cars and caravans replaced bicycles and panniers. It was a low point for Australian bike riders. But cycling did not disappear. Rather it went underground, only to re-emerge in the early years of the new century, fuelled by concerns about climate change, urban congestion and environmental sustainability. Nowadays a new trend in cycling is catching on. Wanderlust is back, and along with it a renewed passion to rediscover the wild — and ourselves.
The phenomenon known as ‘bikepacking’ is the new bike touring. Riding purpose-built bikes with lightweight gear, bikepackers have rejected the road and instead search for tracks less travelled. In many ways, today’s bikepackers ride with the same spirit of adventure and wonder as the original overlanders. Fittingly, then, the latter half of this book is dedicated to some of the more recent epic cycling trips that have drawn inspiration from our historical forebears.
Australia has a rich cycling history. There are many riders who deserve to be documented and celebrated; many journeys that have gone unheralded, been under-represented or forgotten. But this book is not an encyclopedia of endurance riding in Australia. Nor have the stories been selected at random. A major criterion for inclusion was that the ride had to be notable in ways other than simply being the first or the fastest. The journey had to be culturally significant. It had to tell us something about the times, the landscape, Indigenous Australians, the nature of long-distance cycling and, not least, the riders themselves. In short, each journey had to reveal something different about bicycle travel and the way it shaped Australian life.
The journeys retold in this book are a thrilling reminder of a period of exploration largely forgotten in the age of the motor car. We might simply choose to enjoy these feats vicariously, from the comfort of our armchairs. Or we might be inspired to venture out on our own pedal-powered explorations. At the very least, they will make our myriad excuses not to go for a ride all seem rather feeble.
