#onearmpoint

Before I set off from Broome I posted some excess gear home. It included most of my warm clothes, my backpack, and everything else I decided I wouldn’t need going forth. My bike instantly shed seven kilos. Cape Leveque Road started off as bitumen but soon changed to the sandy Pindan I’d been warned about. The makeup of the road was basically a layer of soft, beach like sand over the substrate of ochre red Pindan, similar to bumpy concrete. I’d never ridden on this type of material and within minutes of entering it I’d fallen over, bogged the bike numerous times and found myself pushing the bike on foot. I had concerns that I wouldn’t make it to James Price Point 35 kilometers away, nor One Arm Point with around 140km of sandy Pindan to be crossed before hitting the bitumen again. The rideability constantly changes whereby; if you can find the hard pindan then, although bumpy, it will be rideable, but if the soft sand is too deep over the pindan then the tyres will dig in, and all speed is lost in a few seconds. If it’s just a patch of soft sand then you might make it to the other side, if not it’s a case of putting your feet down quickly or falling. Steering is also very slow in the sand. To steer you have to turn the handlebars and hold them in that position until the bike changes direction but turn too sharply and the front tyres dig in and the bike slews wildly requiring over-corrections or picking yourself up off the ground. I had to quickly adapt my riding style to the road if I had any chance of getting to where I wanted to go. I changed into my joggers instead of my cleated bike shoes as I needed to put my feet down constantly. I lowered my seat to find better balance and to make it easier to recover when my bike bucked, and I let my tyres down. Then I let them down again. Frustrations in the soft sand left me letting the tyres down three more times until they were at their limit. It allowed me to ride over much more than what I could at the start but riding at such low pressures increased the risk of getting a puncture through pinching the tube against the rim.

I made it to Barred Creek by nightfall, about halfway to James price Point, and set up camp overlooking the creek. I had to push my bike the last few hundred meters. The tide was way out in the morning exposing the creek floor and leaving pools of water everywhere. I expected to see crocodiles but there were none around. The midgies and sand flies marauded me whilst I got changed into my riding clothes. It was already pretty hot by the time I left. I got a puncture in my rear tyre just out of Barred Creek, the first on my trip. It wasn’t easy to fix with the fully loaded bike especially in the soft sand but I was gifted with shade while I did it. I made it to the James Price Point protest camp later in the afternoon. I met the caretaker of the site which was the only person staying there at the time. The protesters moved on after Woodside announced that there would be no further development at James Price Point so the empty camp simply remains as a snapshop of a very different time. The caretaker was a cooky guy who invited me to sit down for a cup of tea and said I was welcome to set up my tent in the camp. I was told that the beach on the other side of the dune that rested on the camp’s edge was better for swimming than James Price Point a few kilometers further on. I was pretty knackered by that stage and had been thinking about going for a swim all day so I decided to set up in the camp and check out JPP the following day. Before I headed to the beach two other travelers arrived at the camp and also decided to stay as well. We all went down to the beach together for a swim and to watch the sunset. I’d been hanging out for it all day and it was everything I wanted it to be. When it got dark we headed back to camp to cook dinner (chocolate chilli) and play cards into the night. We spent the following morning at the beach swimming and reading and I took the time to walk down to James Price Point. It seems ridiculous that it would be ruined for a gas hub. There would be plenty of other areas that are better suited. In the afternoon we got word of a beached whale at Quondong Point, about 10km south of where we were. I went with the other travelers to check it out. It was astonishing when we climbed over the rocks and caught sight of it. It was a profound experience seeing something so big and majestic dead and being pounded by the waves. That afternoon I read my book and watched another sunset at the protest camp beach, it’s such a good location. I decided to leave for One Arm Point the following morning. I wasn’t returning to Broome as planned as I could fill up my waterbags at the camp and I figured I’d have enough food to get up there. I got back to the Cape Leveque Road after the first day. I tried to ride at night but it was very difficult as my bike light wouldn’t throw enough light out onto the road to show the line to take in order to stay on the hardest material. I pulled off into a road run-off drain and as soon as I was off the bike I found myself getting attacked by a horde of mosquitoes. They were the worst I’d seen in terms of numbers and persistence, and although clothes covered 99 per cent of my body I still managed to bit. I set about cooking my dinner straight after setting my tent so I wouldn’t have to get back out once I was in. When I entered my tent to eat I was faced by about thirty mosquitoes that I had to eliminate before I could relax. It was like a miniature massacre. I got back on the road by about 9am, with my lunch and dinner already cooked. It was already pretty hot by this stage. I enjoyed the ride, and the concentration required to ride these roads meant I was never bored. Towards the end of the day the road got really bumpy. When I heard a couple of strange noises I decided to stop to have a look. I found one of my rear pannier bag's support brackets had half fallen off, which caused the bag move and hit spokes of the wheel. It was lucky nothing was broken. After unloading the bike I found the fixings and set about remounting the bag on its bracket. I distributed most of the weight around to the other bags as a precaution and rode until it was dark. Three cars pulled over to ask me how I was going for water, and two of them offered me a lift to the bitumen. I kindly declined and decided to set up camp instead.

  The late starts and issues with the bike had left me about 20kms from where I wanted to be. I got up well before dawn and set off before 7am, while it was still cool. I had 30 kilometres of sand and 90 kilometres of bitumen before I reached One Arm Point. I’d never ridden as far in a day previously, however, it was my earliest start ever and the bike was light as I’d worked through my food and water. By 10am I’d reached the bitumen. I pumped up my tyres, raised my seat, and changed my shoes. I managed a good pace on the bitumen and arrived in One Arm Point to the clapping from my childhood friends and a few of their buddies. It was awesome and it did feel like an achievement. My odometer showed 133km for the day, my biggest ride in a single day ever!