Ride to Litchfield Nat. Park…

Litchfield National Park lies due south of Darwin....

Erin had brought her bike to Grungle Downs the previous evening, and slept over so we could get an early start the following morning…

By 7.30am, we headed south down the Stuart Highway, past Palmerston towards Adelaide River, and stopped to refuel and buy some oil in Noonamah, as I had noticed that the Big Fella’s sight glass reading was a little low…

Fire hazard signs are posted all along the highways, indicating the severity of the conditions...

The engine had been sounding a little rougher than what I was used to, but I figured it might have been the 91 Octane unleaded fuel I had filled up with… After a litre of 20W50, the bike was once again gurgling happily under me as barreled south towards Litchfield…

The highway was relatively free of traffic, so we made good time… A light wind was blowing, and although it did not affect me much, I could see that at times Erin was struggling to hold her line on her much lighter bike…

This was the first time, besides the few short rides into Darwin that I had made, that I was able to get an idea of how Australians handled their vehicles… I noticed that they drove carefully, and religiously stuck to the speed limits… I had been warned that if you were caught exceeding the speed limit by a large margin, you risked having your vehicle confiscated, as well as a few months behind bars…!!

About 90 km out of Darwin, we turned off the highway and made our way to the little town of Batchelor, where we stopped again, this time to refuel “Victor”, Erin’s little Honda… Parked next to her bike, I noticed for the first time how compact and small her bike looked next to the Big Fella…!!

The Big Fella dwarfs Erin's Honda 250 VTR...!!

An hour after leaving Darwin, we took the turnoff to Batchelor...

We rode through a short section of what looked like an uninhabited part of the area and stopped for breakfast at a caravan park…

Feeling a bit peckish, I ordered the “Full House Breakfast”, knowing that after the last few nights of rather excessive alcohol intake, the greasy breakfast would do me good…!! That’s my take on the meal, and I’m sticking to it…!!

The restaurant at the caravan park was filled with old signs that had us laughing out loud… One in particular about coffee held my attention…

I wondered if it had been made as a gag, or at some point in the distant past, such a sign was actually printed to endorse coffee drinking…!!

Now that's what I call a meal to start the day with...!! Patricia would be cringing at the sight...!!

Extolling the many virtues of coffee drinking...!! You gotta love it...!! The sign and the coffee...!!

This was Outback Country, and the manager of the restaurant was a lean bald fellow, who reminded me of the lead singer of the band, “Midnight Oil”…

The words from “Beds are Burning” began playing through my mind as I watched him sauntering among the tables…!!

Then we were back on the road again, riding through Rum Jungle, another sparsely populated little town with a caravan park and a few shops as its claim to fame…

Wonderful thing when the crowd becomes intimately involved in the game...!!

Smokers take note...!!

At one of the places we stopped, I noticed the front page headline of the local newspaper had been dedicated to Australians passion and love for sport… Particularly the bare-knuckle variety…!!

Seems like the afternoon before, an Aussie Rules football match had degenerated into a mass brawl after a disagreement over a refereeing decision…!!

Erin explained that this was not anything unusual, and I made a mental note not to discuss the fact that I thought Aussie Rule Football should actually be called “Anything Goes”…!!

I had watched snatches of it on TV, and was of the opinion that the ball itself was an unnecessary part of a game where the intention was to do as much grievous bodily harm to your opponents as possible…

Referees also had to be deaf, dumb and blind to officiate in any given match…!!

Not too often that you get to take a bike into a National Park...!! Not in Africa anyway...!! But out here, the only danger seems to be running into the back of a caravan, or collecting a Wallaby or two on your front bumper...!!

Following Erin through the Twisties....

Litchfield National Park is a wilderness area that has been popular with both the locals and people from far afield…

The road running through it is in very good shape, and twists and turns through stands of hardly looking trees and rocky areas, dips down to cross dry river beds and takes visitors to the many waterfalls that occur in the area…

Riding behind Erin, I noticed that although she handled her bike very well, and was an accomplished and confident rider, she was also one of those “twitchers”, who moved her body around a little too much in the saddle when entering and exiting corners…

Not being an exactly perfect rider myself, I however knew that she would enjoy her rides even more if she could get used to just shifting her weight on the bike and using more foot pressure on the pegs when cornering…

We discussed this later at our first stop, and on our next stint to Wangi Falls, she took my advice to heart, and from then on, she looked even better on the bike and was able to ride both quicker and far more smoothly than before… It was great to see the change in her riding style, and the extra confidence she got from riding her bike… Even better, was the obvious enjoyment she took from being in better control of her machine…!!

From the lookout point above Florence Falls... The rock pool below looked inviting, so we headed down for a swim...

In the heat of mid morning, we were not going to let a few steps get in the way of a cool dip...!!

Our first stop was at Florence Falls, where we changed into our costumes and headed down into the gorge for a swim… A few dozen people were already swimming in the pool or sunning themselves on the rocks around it, when we got there… We wasted no time in diving in for a swim… I made my way behind the right hand waterfall and hung about there, feeling the water stinging my shoulders after it’s fall from the heights above me…

View of the falls from the surface... With my new Canon D10 in hand, I made my way behind the right hand falls... Great fun...!!

The cold water of the rock pool was a refreshing change from the hot and sticky conditions we were riding in...

The pool was quite deep in places, quite dark in others, and I wondered when last it had been cleared of crocs…!!  After swimming around for a while, Erin and I sat on a rock in the shallows, watching people who completely ignored the warning signs posted all along the path, by clambering up on the rock faces and jumping off into the water below…

Half a dozen different species of fish inhabit the clear waters of the rock pool, including those that found my legs to be a tasty diversion from their usual diet...!!

A few of them were already “four sheets to the wind”, and I figured it was only a matter of time before somebody landed on a rock instead of in the water…!!

While we sat there, small fish nipped at our ankles, giving me a few sharp bites that had me leaping about to avoid the onslaught…!! Erin thought this was great fun, but after the fifth or sixth painful nip, I decided that enough was enough, and headed for the safety of Terra FIrma…!!

These fish apparently target any broken skin on your body, and with the amount of mosquito bites my legs were sporting, I had immediately became a very popular spot in the pool for the fish…!!

Wangi Fall, and another popular swimming spot for visitors to Litchfield National Park...

We changed back into our riding gear in the car park, ignoring the curious stares from people walking to and from their cars, got back on our bikes and headed deeper into the park, for Wangi Falls…

The ride there took us through broken countryside, following the Florence Creek for another 30 odd kilometres…

Huge termite mounds, dotted the landscape around us, reminding me again of parts of Africa that I had ridden through… The ones we passed were tall and gray, their wide bases tapering into “chimneys” through which the termite mounds receive their ventilation…

It was now closer to midday, and more and more visitors were entering the park, heading for the many designated picnic spots, where they could pack out their food and take refreshing dips in the many swimming holes in the creeks and gorges…

The parking area at Wangi Falls was crowded with cars and even a few large tour buses… Even though we were perspiring heavily in the heat, we decided not to swim, and instead bought a cold drink and wandered down to the edge of the pool below the falls…

Elevated wooden walkways led down to the water’s edge, and signs all along their length warned that in the wet season, certain animals were apt to take up residence in the pool…!!

Families using the pool had in the past gone home with one less member than what they had arrived with…!! I was glad that we had decided not to swim here, knowing that although the chances of being taken by a Croc were very slim, my old friend “Murphy”, was always hanging around to make life interesting for me…!!

We watched fish swimming in the shallows below us, as we sipped our drinks, and Erin told me about the area and the Aborigines that considered it to be a spiritual place… Looking around me, I could imagine this place in ancient times, unspoiled, wild and mysterious… An ancient people, practicing their rituals of faith and healing…

Be warned...!! The occasional Saltwater Long-Face can be found here...!!

Personally, I'd go for the Freshwater Crocs and an "injury", rather than tangle with a Saltie and experience "death"... Apparently, very few people have survived death...!! In fact I am yet to meet someone who has...!!

Behind us on the rolling lawns leading down to the waters edge, modern man was practicing a completely different set of rituals…

Tossing rugby balls around, eating fast food and getting “blotto”…!! If this place was indeed inhabited by the spirits, I wondered what they would be thinking…!!

Back in the parking area, a few guys had surrounded our bikes and one of them turned out to be a South African who lived in Durban and was holidaying with family in Darwin… We chatted about “home” and the Springbok’s chances in the World Cup, before Erin and I took our leave and headed for Darwin, 140 km away…

Going back the way we had come...

Soon I would be heading for Katherine myself, but today, it was back to Darwin...

We rode back the way we had come, heading east towards Rum Jungle and Batchelor, and out onto the Stuart Highway…

I rode behind Erin once again, filming her with my forward facing camera so that I could show her later how here riding style had changed and how it had improved her handling of the bike…

On one long corner, I saw my first live Wallaby, sitting in the shade next to the road… I had seen hundreds of carcasses on the road leading out of Darwin and even a few in the town itself… I thought they would be a far more common sight that they actually were… Seems they prefer to be out and about in the cool of evening, rather than the blazing sun of daytime… Clever animals, Wallabies…!!

Erin peeled off the highway just short of Humpty Doo towards her house, while I motored on to Darwin, about 30 kilometres away…

Erin on her trusty steed, "Viktor", after a good long ride to Litchfield National Park and back...

I had planned to leave the following day, but Paul and Christie had arranged for Erin to take us all out on her boat the next day, too look for Crocs in a nearby billabong, and I had very gladly accepted the invitation…!!

Erin joined us again later that night and we made our plans for the trip to Corroberee Billabong… We would leave early the following morning, but first, there was evidence of Paul’s amazing cooking skills to sample… The previous evening he had cooked a large fillet to perfection on the BBQ, and this time, he outdid himself once again, with small fillets of kangaroo, which reminded me of ostrich meat…

Erin then left to go and prepare the boat for the following morning, while we retired to our usual spot out on the patio, to discuss the “importance of being”…

We once again sat up till late. cracking jokes and punishing the Jameson’s…!! Paul’s dry sense of humour had me in stitches most of the time, and I played along as best I could… I had begun calling him “Colonel”, and he had affectionately nicknamed me “Major Rag-Arse”…!!

"This is no laughing matter, Old Boy...!! An empty glass is a Court Martial offense...!!"

Various other “players” were brought into the “comedy”… “Abdul” was the bugger who usually forgot to fill up the ice trays, while “Sipho” was the guy who forgot to close the screen door each time he entered and exited the kitchen to recharge our glasses…

Around midnight, Paul cleared his throat, and in a conspiratorial voice said,

“Ronnie, old boy, you have humoured me quite enough for one day…!! I’m going to have to kill you now…!! Sorry…!!”

The remains of the day...!! Dead soldiers all...!!

Considering our mental state at the time, I nervously glanced around to see where the cricket bat that he used to smash Cane Toads around the garden with, was located, and seeing that it was still safely standing in the hollow tube near the door, could afford to turn back to him and reply,

“I had hoped for an ordinary court-martial, sir…!! Fair trial and all that…!!”

“Bugger that…!!” came the reply, “Let’s dispense with the regimental rules and get straight down to the killing bit…!!”

As I write this, I can still see Paul’s face as we continued to take the piss out of each other for another few hours, until Christie appeared in the doorway, with a stern look on her face, and advised us to cut the crap and get to bed…!! To which, over my maniacal giggling, Paul replied,

“Bring us each a blanket then, my Dear…!!”

And so it went on… Ringing laughter and clinking glasses, until even we had to admit that we were knackered…!! Which took some admitting, I can tell you…!!

We staggered off to bed, flirting with the flowerbeds as we did so, still laughing at a crack we had made about the Suicide Bomb Instructor who had advised his students to pay attention, as he was only going to demonstrate the working of the bomb, once…!!

What seemed like only minutes later, we were packing the car for the drive to Erin’s place, to go searching for Crocs…

©GBWT 2011