Monthly Archives: June 2016

Desert.

The word really has a different meaning to me now than before I’d physically been in a few ones myself. Raised in the forests of Sweden, my few references to these exotic, barren lands have all more or less resembled what one picks up from Disney’s Aladdin as kid. A never-ending beach without sea.

Tanami is green. It has a wet season and gets flooded each and every year. Resulting in a flora that definitely wasn’t part of my former cartoonish idea of these places. Green or not though, Tanami does provide it’s visitors with more than enough sand for everyone to share.

As some sadist compensation for the lack of dunes, the track you enter is a total sand pit.

I usually enjoy sharing a tale or two in posts like this. Let you in on a few of those more or less absurd events that take place in the life on two wheels. And though there are some quite peculiar ones from this ride as well, they were so far from the main ingredients of this ride.

More than anytime before, the one big thing has been the total absence of big (or small for that matter) things. With food setting the limit, I only had that much time to make my way through the 1100 km desert stretch. And reaching the daily distance did consume quite a bit of time, not to mention energy.

While I did meet the occasional trail angel and nutjob, had some quite memorable times in the couple of aboriginal communities along the way, and just about avoided running over a snake or two. I mostly just cycled.

Cycled. And Cycled. Pushed my way though the sandiest patches. And then cycled some more.

And there really wasn’t much more to it.

In a day there was (terribly slow) riding.

There was food.

At times there was a bit more sand and flies than one might prefer.

And then – there was the best part of the day.

Not too exciting, huh?

The funny thing is though, there are few things I enjoy nearly as much as this. Solitude is incredibly underrated. And considering that all those retreats people go to are so sought after, I seem not to be the only one thinking so. People ask me why I’m doing this, and I can’t describe it in any other way than that this is my dusty version of a couple weeks of silent yoga on Bali.

Plodding along a sandy desert track with a ridiculously heavy bicycle isn’t necessarily easy. But it sure is simple. The magic in that slow but constant movement is difficult to pinpoint to someone who’ve never experienced it. And I think those who have, really don’t need an explanation.

When thirsty you drink, and when hungry you eat. When tired you sleep, and wake up when your body thinks it’s time to continue. When letting our basic human needs rule your life, the importance of all those other things we’re caught up in fade a little more for each day passing.

There is gold in spending two full days with your one mission in life being to reach that next bore water tank.

Don’t worry. The odd taste is all from the pixie dust sprinkled in the water

I’m not sure how to wrap my head around it. How while I love all things new – be it seeing places, learning whatever or sharing moments with others. I thrive out here. When being nowhere. Doing nothing (oh well..). Meeting no one.

I don’t get it.

But hey. Who cares about understanding everything all the time? I don’t need to know how this works. I’m just happy it does. And I’m quite sure it does for a few of you guys as well.

Tailwinds,

Fredrika

I’ve never really understood this big piece of nothing that people keep referring to. Yes, it’s endless outback. But the most random things always keep breaking up the ‘nothingness’ into ‘somethingness’. You’ll see.

These were the words of Faith, a rolling power woman I met in Malaysia. After having spent months and months along the backroads of Australia, her path crossed mine in a modest hostel on Penang island. She knew the outback she was talking about, probably better than most born Australians ever will.

It’s not like I didn’t believe her then and there. But it’s not until now that I’ve truly taken in the words.

This is me riding through nothing. Along dirt roads that will always, always stretch themselves further than I could ever go. I spend a lot of time looking at birds. Singing. Slowly turning in and out on those long thoughts, you only ever have when without outer impressions for long periods of time.

Then every now and then, somethingness comes along.

Sure. Not very exciting for most people, and therefore not the best example. But after having spent the majority of my still not very long lifetime on the tennis courts around Sweden, this is something for me.

Or at least it was – until LR Bore.

Unexpected things happen while travelling. Some things though, are unexpectedly unexpected. That one thing usually leads to another is a common known fact, and after more than a year of odd travels I consider myself being well aware of this.

Luckily though, life keeps insisting on blowing my socks off.

Expecting the unexpected is generally a good way to go about a lot of things. The mind is limited though, and 2 days of full on cowboy life was definitely not on my list of possible outcomes of following this random sign in search for water.

Imagine a cattle station a la 1.5 million acres and 45 000 cows at mustering season. Then an incredibly friendly bunch of people, with an arsenal of swear words that would make your mother faint. Dress them in cowboy hats and spurs. Feed them endless amounts of beef with every meal. Add a load of dogs, horses, quad and dirt bikes. A helicopter. And lastly, throw in a random Swede who prefers to say Yes rather than No.

Turn on the blender.

Viola!

The nothingness has officially been turned to dust.

Sometimes I struggle to grasp the things I’m actually getting to experience. And don’t have much more to say other than that I am one very, very lucky human being.

Thank you Tess & Cam, Gina, Sam & the rest of you guys for opening up a whole new Australia for me. I will never, ever forget it.

Until next time,

Fredrika

(This post is a preset. I’m currently out riding, hopefully getting close to Alice Springs as this is published.)