Mike Hill Cycles Australia - News and Pictures

The Story So Far - News and pictures from Mike Hill's sponsored Cycle Ride Around Australia

Have just been staying with some friends in Byron Bay along with what seems like the rest of the British population and even managed to squeeze a few stubbies down (but only after the cycling). I have just left New South Wales and arrived in the 'Sunshine State' of Queensland with the little matter of 1500 more km to Cairns….then the hard work starts!

For the statisticians among you, I have so far travelled 934km to arrive at the present location of Tweed Heads in Queensland. I will then be going north to arrive in Brisbane by Saturday 4th May. One puncture so far, 4 water bottles and a camelpak so can now carry 6.25 litres of water.

Well that's the news so far. Pictures to follow and descriptions of the fantastic scenery and countryside that I am lucky enough to be able to see on a daily basis."

"All here good at the moment. Getting hotter by the day and so I am finding myself having to get up earlier in order to combat the heat. In Bundaberg Central Queensland at the moment and going for Rockhampton by Saturday."

"In the past couple of weeks the cycling has got a little harder and the distances a little greater. This means that I have had to get up sometimes before dawn to arrange my things and get going before the sun gets too high in the sky and makes things a little damp. Water is quite scarce in southern Queensland following a drought and keeping my water bottles filled has been a challenge.

Central Queensland has some interesting names of towns and not a lot else: Gympie, Salems and Bat Cove are some of my favourites. This is not to say that there is not much to do, but the endless long straight roads with dead kangaroos littering the hard shoulders can make the cyclist think a little strangely and look forward to reaching these strangely named places.

In the last week, after struggling with a headwind and stampeding cattle around Miriam Vale and Calliope, I managed to get to a big town called Rockhampton or "Rocky" (continuing the Australian theme that 'whether it moves or not, shorten its name') the beef capital of Oz where if you have less than a 1000 head of cattle you are not a proper farmer.

I have added more water bottles to my bike (now 6) with some weird looking contraption called an SPD and enjoyed a little time sampling the local fayre in numerous bars dotted around town. Leaving Rocky was a sad affair as 350 km of nothing was to come for the next 3 days with not even so much as a bull to talk to.

I have been getting up early and often soaked with perspiration after 10 minutes of cycling. The bike feels so heavy in the morning that I ask myself 'do I really need all this water?'. But in the evening, as I pull wearily into a campsite for the night I find myself saying 'thank you God for having given me the wisdom to pack so much water.' Indeed sometimes I managed to finish a day with the strange feeling of being both dehydrated and bloated.

I then put up the tent, have as much pasta as I can eat followed by another bottle of water and then go off to bed. A late night is 7.30pm. Then there's the added bonus of having possums in the vestibule of the tent looking for whatever pasta and bread I could not eat and generally making a hell of a noise fighting with each other.

The good things coming out of all this is that the scenery is fantastic every day with the mist hanging over the lower fields as dawn breaks and the brilliant display that the Captain In The Sky puts on every night. Not to mention the weird people you meet along the way who, in between bouts of uncontrollable laughter, ask where you are from and where you are going.

It's been a great couple of weeks, and thank God for Mars bars and anything with sugar in it. If this is what the outback has in store for me: bring it on!

Heading north again tomorrow for a little rest in the party town of Airlie Beach after completing 200Km more. With my track record in the sleeping stakes, if I see 9pm it will have been a cracking night out.

"Well I've made it to Cairns in far north Queensland, and have been making it my home since Saturday. This means that I have completed the first leg in just under 2 months. I've covered 2940kms in all, and with only 14500kms to go I'm feeling pretty good about everything.

Coming into Cairns with all the tourists has been a little bit of a culture shock and has made watching the football considerably easier as Australians are just about aware that the most popular sport in the world is having a competition.

The final 600kms were good. There is a little rain falling now and we are in the depths of winter with moderately cool nights which get all the locals running for their socks and jumpers whilst the tourists are still in T-shirts and shorts.

Have used the time here so far to collect more things for my trip into the outback. I can now carry 13.5 litres of water which weighs considerably more than it sounds and, fully loaded up, I am carrying between 38 and 40kgs on the bike. This is fine on the straights of the red centre but a little tiresome in traffic and amongst traffic lights.

I have also bought a machine called EPR which when I press the button hopefully summons the emergency services. So I'm feeling a little happier about the outback trip. The most important thing I have had to purchase is the rear view mirror, used to watch out for the road trains that could make things a little interesting if not spotted in time.

I will try to email again from the biggest of the outback towns but only after a shower as I will be camping out in the bush by the side of the road. All we can say is "COME ON ENGLAND!"

There are quite a few tall, blond people here, so I hope we stuff them in the game on Saturday. All is good."

Friday 19th July......Mike's father, William, has heard from his son and has sent this message:

Mike has now reached a quarter of the way and is currently pedalling towards Tennant Creek on the Queensland/Northern Territory border. He has cycled 4500 kms and is in good health and fine spirit. He wishes all his sponsors good health and looks forward to reaching Darwin in about three weeks time.

"Now in Broome, just short of half way, with 7700km done but with a quite hard stretch to come on the way down to Port Hedland."

Tuesday 15th October 2002......

"Dear All

It has been a while so if you are sitting comfortably then I will begin.

The time in Darwin was great and I just spent the time chilling and mentally preparing myself for part 3 of the trip - the longest and the most remote. I left Darwin managing to get a lift for 200 of the 300km back to Katherine (don't panic everybody - already done that bit on the way up north to Darwin) and spent another day in Katherine gathering myself and buying what looked to me like too much food and other provisions.

The first 500km or last 500km out of the Northern Territories was great and as soon as the town was past the people fell away and it was back to the real Australia and acres of nothing. The first thing I noticed as I went east was that the animals were not scared of humans, often remaining on the road as I cycled past with bemused expressions on their faces and a little noise towards their mates as if to say "look at this prat".

The temperatures were getting higher everyday as I went further towards the border and so alternative timings had to observed as I came into Western Australia and cycled up the 45km hill towards Kunnanarra. A rest was had and another session of mental preparation was done. Funnily enough, these sessions always seem to take place at the hottest part of the day in the air con depts of public bars and involve talking to anyone mostly about anything. Leaving Kunnanarra I was entering the heart of the Kimberley which was fantastic. The hills and mountains combined with the pre dawn cool were great and I even got to go down hill a few times. By this time my days were taking form, getting up at 4am to leave at 5.30ish and cycling as hard as I could for at least 2 hours before a 10 minute break and pulling over for lunch and a rest from the heat about 11am, not leaving till about 3.30pm and finishing for the day at about 5.45pm, eating my never big enough meal and getting into the tent for a little star watching and sleep for about 7pm, crazy.

Going through the Kimberley was also great for the lack of people and when you did happen to chance upon one at a rest area the complete kindness they bestowed upon me giving food, tea and most importantly lots of water, sometimes even cold water.

These days were long and hot but the nights were slightly cooler to allow sleep and every night so clear combined with the fact that I was 100 miles from the centre of the middle of nowhere this made for absolute deafening silence and the feeling as if I was the only one on earth.

After a few more days with the temperatures getting into the low 40s during the day, I reached the towns of Halls Creek and Fitzroy Crossing - and the least said about them the better. Suffice to say that if Uncle George from the good old US is looking for target practice, these twin towns deserve to be nominated to soak up a few surface to air missiles. They were horrible.

Leaving these places you feel a little sad, but an hour down the track you know another one is only 300km or two days away. The routine established, I managed to make some good time averaging about 150km a day and not running out of water but sometimes coming quite close, until the town of Broome appeared on the horizon. I needed a rest after just over 1000 miles and decided to spend a week on the beach, generally enjoying a town that claims to have the largest amount of sunny days in Western Australia. (I'm not arguing, but I did see a cloud).

The real reason for the stop in Broome was a chance to actually talk to someone for more than an hour and to drink and eat as much as possible because I had lost a little bit of weight and I'd heard that emu lager is good for that type of thing.

Leaving Broome was hard, not only for the fact that it was a town, but the next 600km are the most remote part of Australia with only 2 places giving water. This was made slightly harder by the fact that a headwind blew up and stayed for the next 5 weeks meaning I did not manage to get over the 10mph barrier at all for those five weeks. It was compounded by the fact that some twit abducted some German tourists in Kakadu national park, so the tourists were now not stopping to offer water to cyclists , it made for a very hard few weeks and upon arriving at eighty mile beach I slept for 2 days straight in order to put the thoughts of facing the winds again out of my now fried mind for a while. It really was very hard. I managed to get through it by meeting a fellow cyclist a few weeks previously as I was going into Broome and he was coming out. Conrad is cycling round the country as well but he has epilepsy, cerebral palsy, only half the use of his right arm and foot and is pulling a trailer behind him with approximately 65kg of provisions for the long distances between towns. Figuring that if he can do it, I can bloody well do it. (Don't worry, I still moaned like hell every day and shouted at the wind to bugger off).

After what now seemed like a long time the towns eventually starred to get a little closer together and only two days were spent getting between places that sold food and gave away now slightly salty bore water so I figured the hard parts were coming to an end.

THEN IT HAPPENED. I had left a road house at around dawn and was shouting as normal at the wind to change direction and suddenly it did. I actually got a push, the wind was now helping, the speedometer registered over 20kph and I danced a little jig in my now worn saddle. Then it really happened. The temperature went up a few degrees and then a little more and I found myself wishing for the cool head winds of long ago to cool me down. Then the temperature went up again and I thought "bloody hell it's hot today" and, sure enough, passing through a town (population 9), I saw the thermometer had reached 42 degrees and it was only 10.45 in the morning. Now normally I would stop in the town, in this horrible sweat bathing heat with the humidity making all organs work very hard but I think the heat had already got to me and I cycled on thinking I could make the next town only another 160km away.

About an hour later I saw a cloud (could not be sure, thought I was going a little bananas) and then I saw another one and he had a friend. Then it actually rained. Not English rain but proper "good-on-yer-mate-shit-it's-pissing-it-down-rain". The outback was transformed and the goats came out onto the road to celebrate, the emus danced then got runover and I got so cold I thought I was going to die. I made the little town and looked so pathetic they gave the village hall key to me to sleep in. It was dry and warm and it was great.

After that, the rain stayed for a while but did nothing to spoil the enjoyment of passing through towns (some quite big) and not having to get up at 4 in the morning in order to make the distance every day.

I arrived in the Perth area on Saturday and never was a boy so glad to see a building with more then two storeys and more than one shop in a row.

I passed through a few milestones on the 4500km from Darwin that I thought I would relate to you:

Passed halfway just south of Broome (celebrated with an apple).
Passed two thirds of the way around Geralton area. (No celebration - too tired).
Passed through the 10 000km mark north of Perth (celebrated with another apple (this time green)).
So another stage has been completed and it leaves 6000km odd to go with the total at the moment standing at 10,252 km, meaning a few statements need to be made. Firstly Australia is a very big country, secondly Western Australia is a very big state and thirdly thank God for beer and cold water.

Here for a few weeks to relax and then its off to the east again and Christmas in Melbourne with a few of you, which should be fun. I think the majority of the hard work has been done. Now only the Nullarbor to go and then the rest of the country is populated. Hope all is well for everyone and if anyone still has the the last email from Darwin please could you pass it to IRHH as it did not get through."

Tuesday 12th November - Perth to Esperance

"I know a little shorter time frame than the last one, but that's because I have discovered that people actually live in some parts of Western Australia and there are other bits to this place than the red hot, red dirt areas that are in abundance.

The last few weeks have been good and tough. When I last wrote I was just managing to stay awake, and after sleeping for the best part of 2 weeks in various caravan parks in Perth, I went a little east to the National Parks surrounding Western Australia's capital and slept some more in the forests and generally did not do much cycling but took up walking and trekking instead.

Then it was back onto the bike for the trip down south towards the wine producing areas and, along the way, I encountered some things called hills. (On the way up they are called bastards and on the way down they are called hills). I managed to set a few land speed records on the way down and I think was overtaken by the termites on the way up, but I made it to Margaret River and sampled as many wineries and hospitality as I could in the few days that I was around.

Cyclists are quite common round here and they are easily spotted by the slightly crooked bow legged action that most people call walking, so I managed to meet some good people with healthy thirsts after the trip down from Darwin. Then it was on my way again, getting down to the most south westerly point of Western Australia and lots of jumping up and down and video taking due to the fact that, from now on, the cursed south west winds were my friends as now the big trip east finally was a reality.

I have continued east first passing through huge towns of at least 300 people but with some warm fires burning in their in homes because the cold and wet rain threatened to take my skin off. Then passing through the Valley of the Giants and stopping to look and do the tree top walk through the Karri trees which are up to four hundred years old. The roads were good but the hills still in evidence so I am now a good hill climber as well as superb on the flat (not).

The temperatures started going up as I hit the eastern part of south west Western Australia and the roads got quieter. All attention was strained in thinking "right, just the little matter of the Nullarbor to go, then its Easy Street and some cricket watching". But the Captain put a little spanner in the works by heating up this part of the world a little more. This meant harder days and very hot nights. A few days we had (it is "we" now as I am cycling with an Austrian called Boris and the worrying thing is he is actually a cyclist) a massive thunderstorm with 4 inches of rain in a night then very humid temperatures reaching 44 degrees Celsius at midday. Then more rain and finally another headwind, all in the space of a night and day. But we made it, and are now going shopping to buy the necessary provisions for the 1400km trip into the desert with not much water and mind-numbingly hot temperatures during the day and hopefully some good tailwinds to help us on our way.

The plan is to cross in 10 days doing 140kms every day and then resting in a town called Ceduna for a little while before completing the 700kms odd to the nearest town before calling in on Adelaide. So, if anything, I will be fit by the end of it.

Thats the news. I will call again to let you know whether our carefully laid plans were any good and to say we made it across.

Keep well."

"Last time I wrote I was about to tackle the Nullarbor and the fact that I am writing this update means we all survived and made it through to the other side.

Arriving in the south of Western Australia, all the talk over the 1000 km from Perth to Esperance was of the Nullarbor: "Boy, its going to be hot!", "Make sure you have enough water", "Why?", "You do realise it's quite a long way don't you?"

So leaving the township of Esperance we all had these somewhat negatives in our minds, this was compounded by the fact that my seat (rather important to bike riding) broke just 45km out of town. Luck in the form of a form of a farm was nearby and they helped me to improvise and fix the seat with a few rudimentary tools and a little tape. I put it down to the fact that 12,000kms and over six hundred hours was enough for the little lad and it had had enough.

We managed to survive the enormous headwinds that were promised and promptly delivered on the way to Norseman, the last town of any size before the start proper of the Nullarbor. And leaving the town at dawn the next day with a proper tailwind this was going to be easy, making 140kms that day, we camped on an escarpment overlooking a huge valley of trees and had a great sunset, (the Nullarbor is anything but flat). The next day, and indeed for the next 9 days, the weather changed dramatically providing stingingly cold headwinds that if you stopped for too long made the sweat on your back bite you and made your knees ache just thinking about heading out again.

The days were cold, wet, grey, and very windy. Everyday at about 3.30 we would wake, look out of the tents (that had just about survived the night), pull on our wet clothes and check for the miracle that never happened: a westerly. Then with heavy hearts we would wrestle the tents down and head off to try to get to the next roadhouse before the rain and wind really tried to take the smile off our faces. By 3.30pm there really was no point in continuing further and so wherever we were, that was camp. Four days and no showers later, we arrived in Eucla, the halfway point, to showers and our food parcels (cleverly sent from Esperance), and never did fruit cake and pasta taste so good. We vowed that if we had the miracle we would not have a rest day but continue eastwards and nearer the end.

Well two things happened: England got murdered in the cricket (first radio in 5 days) and we got a miracle, so, quickly packing up, we headed for our best day so far getting as far as the Great Australian Bight, made camp and thought this was easy. 140kms a day and we would quickly forget the griping of the past few days. We laughed watched dolphins frolic in the surf, heard sea lions on the rocks 60 metres below, managed to get on film 50 odd camels coming to the place we had made camp to get a drink and saw an amazing sunset that we will never forget before retiring to our tents with fully bellies and smiling faces.

That night the biggest storm of the year blew up, pulled out our pegs, moved our tents and lashed us with rain so everything was soaked and we were all miserable, but (you tend to look for the positives!) the wind was nearly going in our direction. This unfortunately was also a lie and it changed at 8am to another easterly. This again continued for the next 4 days and we were a sorry bunch of cyclists wheeling into the town of Ceduna to mark a not very good crossing of the Nullarbor. The scenery was great, but seen through a murky grey, wet and windy day your appreciation levels dim slightly. The Nullarbor, only actually 30kms long, was strange and interesting but, with clenched teeth, the beauty passed me by.

Ceduna has a supermarket (enough said).

We then pedaled on making good time through the Eyre peninsula to the town of Port Augusta, full to the rafters due to the impending eclipse happening in Ceduna (pop 4000, expecting 30,000) (good decision). Then a day off and some sampling of the local fare because we had crossed over into South Australia some 1000 km before, not that the scrub looked any different.

We then made a slight detour off the main highway due to the traffic (eclipse again) to cross the south of the Flinders Range and then the sun came out but the wind had changed into a southerly (the only direction we did not want), but oh the sun. We sang Beatles tunes and regained our washed off tans. We watched a partial eclipse although I must admit to being in the shower at the time and ate again anything but pasta with our evening meals.

Since then the scenery has changed, and on the way to Adelaide the rolling hills of the Claire valley were a pleasant change from the grey scrub that was the last 2000km. Adelaide came after another long day and of course the compulsory headwind, again greeted with not much joy by all cyclists that seemed to be heading the same way. And to round things off, my seat that had been struggling over the last 3 weeks finally gave up the ghost and I had to cycle standing up for the last hour before the Adelaide central camp site was located, greeted with howls and whoops of delight.

Mount Gambier is 450kms south of Adelaide and not that interesting a drive but it takes me on to the Great Ocean road and the last few days of riding before Melbourne and some time off.

I am ahead of schedule, having completed just under 14,500kms to get to Mount Gambier. Although the journey has not been all that inspiring over the last 3 or 4 weeks, this is Australia. Not today but soon the sun will come out, the wind behave itself and everything will be right with the world for a few days.

My plan is to head to Tasmania for the new year and to see the sights, but before then, the Great Ocean road is something I have seen before and is sure to a highlight of the trip, before arriving in Melbourne amidst a fanfare of bells. For 'tis Christmas here as well. Although in Adelaide I heard the carol "White Christmas " in a mall shop (25 degrees, everyone wearing shorts), not really the same as home, but I will be decorating my bike with tinsel in an attempt to gather some festive cheer from my fellow cyclists as we round the road that leads us to a rest and a few glasses of whatever is going round the campsite.

I will write again to tell you of the joys of the 12 Apostles - but Merry Christmas one and all."

Monday 27th January - Mount Gambier to Melbourne and a detour to Tasmania

As it is the first message of 2003 I will start by wishing all sponsors a very Happy New Year.

After arriving in Melbourne to much car honking and wolf whistling (I nearly caused an accident as I drove through the middle of town) I eventually found a campsite and settled down for a few nights of total R & R before friends arrived and Christmas truly got under way. I worked out I had done 78 days of cycling in order to arrive 2 months early in Melbourne and so the rest was a little deserved or at least the legs thought so.

Then after a small rest it was off into the middle of town and to Le Meridian, one of Melbourne's 5 star places of residence. My, what a contrast: sheets, a bath, a bed and room service. It was properly magical after 9 months under canvas, the concierge was a little put out that I decided to ride my bike into the lift and up to my room but it was essential to making a good impression.

After Christmas day spent up in the hills surrounding Melbourne and visiting thousands of Australians, Boxing day was spent at the MCG where, due to building work, attendance was limited to only 70,000 fans of the game called cricket. We all settled into the barmy army chants and generally got involved in the amber nectar. The cricket was only bettered the next day when we managed to get seats behind the bowler's arm one storey up, and in the words of the steward who showed us our places: "you got beaut seats mate." We had another great day out. By the third day the heat was up to 35 degrees and much slip slop slap was observed. After the cricket was over we toddled on up to Queensland for New Year, and much sunbathing and eating was done before it was time to get on with the business of some more cycling.

I flew into Hobart - a small town, but in Tasmanian terms a city - and walked around it for about an hour and found myself with tickets to the England Australia one-dayer later on in the week. Again, a great day was had and, again, we lost but still celebrated well into the evening and were suitably rewarded with a bad taste in mouth the next day.

Leaving Hobart, my first stop was Triabunna, but only after a few hills had to be tamed. Needless to say I have again got headwinds, but as the days are now shorter in terms of distance it is not worth getting upset about. Next stop was Swansea (which is a marked improvement on the Welsh one), and the sun came out. Staying there, I was confronted with a sea of Lycra: 1900 cyclists passing me on their way to Hobart in the great Tasmanian bike ride. I, of course, made friends with them as they had afternoon tea set up just as I was passing. I then got a very small ferry (so small in fact it was just me the bike and the driver) across the estuary before arriving at Coles Bay and bushwalking activities to Wineglass Bay which would have a been a beautiful sight if all the people had got out of the way.

The east coast of Tasmania is beautiful; very New Zealand-esque and with people to boot. The roads are empty except for the highways which I try to stay off and the scenery is fantastic with plenty of shops to stop and buy a pastry for when one gets a little tired. Some nights I have ended up in towns with no campsites at all, so have placed my tent by the river, had a wash and enjoyed the stars before falling into a contented slumber. I have also had the unfortunate experience of seeing life through a speed cyclist's eyes as the hills are very steep and it takes a long time to get up them before pointing nose and all downhill, and reaching a new world record, for me at least, of 78km per hour. And, believe me, with bags and water and clothes and stuff attached to the bike, that is very fast. The hills, as previously mentioned, are steep and so days are spent eating enough to gather energy to get up them. After one day consuming 7 bananas there are the obvious repercussions (least said, soonest mended) but fitness has returned and it is well worth it to see the views when you get to the top.

I am now in the town of Devonport and am spending the Australia Day weekend here in true aussie style: on the beach with a tinny in my hand, before heading west across the top towards a place called Marawah before returning back to Devonport and getting the ferry back to the mainland and starting the final 1000 kms back to Sydney.

As it is the dead of winter, I will just share the 5 day outlook here as reported on the radio this morning: "Right, the weather today is good and 32. Tomorrow the same, and it's pretty much the same until February." Actual weather report this morning! Sorry if that depresses you all, but I will be back soon to join in with the short days with no sight of double figure temps.

Just a short note to keep everyone up to date on the progress. Having survived an "Antarctic" ferry ride from the from Tasmania (11 hours with the aircon up so high that drinks needed to be thawed out before being consumed), I arrived back in sunny and warmer Melbourne where I located some friends that I had met in the wilds of the southern state. On the way to their house I passed the tennis arena where Great Britain were getting murdered in the Davis Cup, so my cries of 'come on Britons' were jeered, booed and laughed at as I went past.

Staying a few nights back in Melbourne (to acclimatise), I managed to see a little more of my favourite Oz city before heading off on Monday morning, the 10th of Febuary, and made good time in reaching the first destination of the last part of the trip, worrying slightly that it would be over too fast and I would regret not giving myself time to see all the sites. This was not the case as on the second day I met with some hills and then some more hills and finally small mountains that seemed never to want to disappear. It's not that I don't enjoy going down the other side, but the problem is that the downhill leads straight into another vertical climb that is always slightly longer than the relaxing bit on the other side! I think its called Sod's Law and I am getting it in spades.

The scenery, on the other hand, is great. Lots of logging roads that carve their way through the National Parks litter this part of eastern Victoria and southern New South Wales. I passed into NSW yesterday and was overjoyed that it was the last state I have to do before the finish line. The reasons are quite obvious: I have been sitting on a bike for the best part of a year and it gets a little wearing after a time. And also my arse hurts.

Arrived in Bega - home of cheese in Australia - and that means the halfway point has been reached. So only 468 km to go: does not sound a lot after 16,554 kms, but, with the never ending supply of hills and goat passes that I seem to be taking at the moment, it is a considerable distance but, never fear, I will do it even if the the last part is on one wheel.

	Three of the Iain Rennie nurses who cared for Mike's Mum met up in Bovingdon Green on 2nd April to wish him well on his year-long journey. Photo L-R: Sue Jarvie; Mike Hill; Jackie Eaton; Jean Savigar

	"Started my travels on a fine Tuesday morning from the North Sydney suburb of Kirribilli. Managed with lots of effort to get to Gosford on that first day, arriving and checking into my only motel of the trip so far. I was awake just long enough to see on the news that it would probably rain in the late afternoon in the north of the region. This proved incorrect as the rain cascaded down from 8.40 am; an hour after I had departed. It didn't actually stop for two days resulting in a very wet and chaffed cycle rider arriving at his next destination. This time however I managed to make it by 8.20pm.