Get up and Go: A Grand Mission

Get up and go - the best of mature travel

On my last morning I awoke at 4.30 and wandered over
to the toilet block. The air was balmy, calm; the stars were still visible. I felt sad. Then I noticed Gypsy had a flat tyre!

I could not believe my eyes.

A helpful caravanner put air in the tyre with his portable pump. I rode 42km before the sluggish feel of the bike told me it had gone flat again. I started pushing. A passing motorist stopped and helped me push the scooter to a service station.

Finally I arrived home almost two hours later than anticipated. My hands and clothes were grubby from handling the road-stained tyre and the physical exertion of pushing the loaded scooter, my hair plastered to my head by my helmet and the heat, I looked and felt a mess. But the welcome home I received – and the bottle
of champagne my daughter shook up and sprayed over me – as well as the bottle of champagne we all drank, soon had me giggling as I related the farce into which my'triumphant' return had degenerated.

I've been asked what is the purpose of my travels.

The journey itself is the purpose. I enjoy the lure of the unknown, the anticipation of surprises around the next corner or over the next hill. I love the act of travel – the 'moving' – often more than the arriving.

During the long, slow hours riding through vast, seemingly empty and open spaces, I did a lot of reminiscing: memories of my childhood, of the joys and sorrows of my children's growth, of my marriage and its break-up, and I spilled many tears as I rode along.

The discovery of my ability to be alone but not lonely; of my intense enjoyment and lack of fear of the immense outback; and, finally, the realisation that I had regained the self-confidence and self-esteem that had been lost over the previous years is very emotionally satisfying.

It was the ride of my life.

Gypsy Rover WYN WOODS achieved a dream when she spent eight months riding around Australia on a scooter called Gypsy.

"You're not really going around Australia on that, are you?" asked the man at the petrol station in Apollo Bay. I resisted pointing out the obvious to him and simply smiled inanely. By then, having travelled more than 8,000 kilometres since leaving Perth, I was used to such comments.

The object of such incredulity was a bright orange 50cc Bolwell Scooter, the model appropriately named Gypsy. Decked out with bicycle pannier-bags, a large sports bag across the passenger seat and a bright red five-litre jerry can in a basket on the front, Gypsy certainly attracted attention.

The scooter first came to my attention when I took my grandson, Josh, to a bike show in Fremantle. I loved the name, the bright colours, the modern look of the Gypsy.

I'd been planning a bicycle trip around part of Australia, but as I looked at the vehicles on display, thoughts flashed through my mind. If I used a scooter instead of a bicycle, I could travel further with less effort. I could expand my journey further east. I could circumnavigate Australia. And, as with a bicycle, I would still experience at close hand, the sounds, smells and feel of the country.

Soon afterwards I bought her and started to plan my route.

I had travelled extensively over the years, always with my husband or our daughters for some company. Our eldest daughter was born in Zimbabwe, the younger in Canada, my husband was from England and I grew up in South Africa. We are all now naturalised Australians.

Time to be 'me'
My daughters grew up and acquired their own homes, and my husband and I parted ways. I wanted to explore more of the world. I had been a stay-at-home wife and mother for nearly 30 years. Now it was time to be 'me'.

So, at the age of 56, I 'left home'. I sold my unit and most of my possessions and put a few personal items into storage. I backpacked around Asia, the Middle East, Europe and Africa. But after a while I felt that the time had come to further explore my adopted country.

From Rockingham, south of Perth, then my home town, I headed south through the forests of Manjimup via Walpole to Albany and Esperance. Leaving Norseman on the Eyre Highway (popularly known as the Nullarbor Crossing), I came to appreciate the benefits of riding a scooter across what many people see as a vast area of nothingness.

Thrills of the ride
I had time to enjoy the immensity of the landscape; to stop and admire the inspiring sight of a wedge-tailed eagle lazily riding the thermals high above; to watch a family of kangaroos taking shelter from the sun in the mallee shrub; and to stare back curiously at a flock of emus staring curiously at me.

At campsites each night, fellow travellers would bemoan the boredom of the journey. I suggested to them that they should try doing the trip on a scooter instead of rushing through as fast as they could, sealed in air-conditioned isolation in their four-wheeled vehicles.

After spending time exploring the Eyre Peninsula, I went to Adelaide for a week of relaxation. Then it was through the Barossa and Clare valleys to Port Augusta and on up north to Coober Pedy. I returned over the same route five days later and, heading via Peterborough, took a slow meander through the Riverlands area of South Australia. Bird life along the Murray River is abundant and once again I blessed the openness of life on two wheels. To be part of the scene, to feel the wind, to smell the magnificent river red gums along the route.

Heading back south I eventually reached the Great Ocean Road in Victoria._Being a long weekend there were a lot of bikes on the road. The riders all greeted me, especially those on Harleys, with much hooting, waving and leg shaking! It made me feel good to be accepted as part of the biking fraternity!

Scooting around
Along my journey I've been asked "Why a scooter? Why not a motorbike?" Well, I like the fact that the scooter is automatic, with no need to change gears and coordinate hand and foot movements. I like to be able to sit upright (no backache). I like the bike being only 50cc, which means I can ride it on my car driver's licence. I also like the fact that it is, for the time being, one of the more unusual ways of travelling around the country. I like the challenge.

After nearly three weeks in Melbourne I was glad to resume my journey._I could feel my smile growing wider as Gypsy and I left the traffic congestion behind. After stopping at Heathcote for the night I continued on to Echuca on the banks of the Murray.

Canberra was my next destination and I stayed on the Hume Highway — usually I try to take back roads — but being a Sunday it wasn't particularly busy. I was delighted on my first morning to spot four kangaroos standing up at the fence watching me. Colourful lorikeets and very noisy cockatoos were daily visitors and possums left their calling cards on the grassy campsite at night.

Country to city to sea
I had a late start that morning so I only went as far as Cowra — a friendly town with an exceptional caravan park and an interesting history to explore. Three days later at Lithgow, in spite of being very selective of tent placement, the heavens opened and a deluge ensued. I abandoned the tent to the elements and booked in to a cabin for the night. The joys of camping!

Crossing the Blue Mountains, I arrived in Sydney where I spent the next six days camping in a caravan park at Dural, north west of the city centre. Gypsy had a rest while I used local transport on my sightseeing excursions.

It didn't take too long to exit Sydney and soon I was in the countryside again.

I chose to travel along the old Pacific Highway rather than the busy Sydney-Newcastle Freeway. The road climbs and twists and the views of the Hawkesbury River through the trees had me exclaiming aloud at the beauty of the scenery.

The hills were steep and Gypsy was laden. I stopped a couple of times to rest both bike and bum. Just before Gosford I left the highway and headed inland on to Tamworth, then over the Great Divide to Port Macquarie, where the terrain was noticeably more 'tropical'. I swung inland, on a road leading to Casino. Along a longer route I travelled via Lismore to Byron Bay, Surfers Paradise and Brisbane. I needed a rest!

After covering the coast of Queensland I came at last to my destination, Wonga Beach, a delightful campsite set among mature trees, which lived up to its recommendation. The air was heavy with humidity. After a visit to Daintree village, I took a boat ride on the Daintree River.

The next day I crossed the river by ferry and rode through the Greater Daintree Rainforest, stopping at boardwalks set up along the way. At Cape Tribulation the sealed road ends, so I turned back south._After the humidity of the coast, a visit to the Tablelands was most pleasant.

Leaving the east coast
Feeling refreshed in mind and spirit I ventured down to the 'lowland' again, taking the very scenic Palmerston Highway to Innisfail. The lush forest gradually gave way to the ubiquitous cane fields, and once again I braved the Bruce Highway, retracing my route towards Townsville.

Turning west, Gypsy perked up immediately with the change in wind direction. I had mixed emotions. Thousands of kilometres still to go, but saying farewell to the eastern coast of Australia made me realise I was on the 'home stretch'. A long stretch, for sure, but I was leaving so many sights unseen, so many places unvisited.

The rough road worsens
Four days' riding brought me to Cloncurry. The road from Mt Isa to Camooweal is the worst I have encountered on this journey. At times it was like being on a rollercoaster ride. When I thought of the money being expended on maintaining the existing- and creating new- roads along coastal Queensland it made me wonder about priorities — and politics. It was a relief to reach the Northern Territory border. The highway improved immediately.

The trip from Camooweal to Barkly Homestead was the longest, most isolated stretch of road I'd yet travelled on. From Threeways on the Stuart Highway I turned south and stopped at Tennant Creek for the night. That evening I spent a delightful couple of hours drinking billy-tea and listening to a local bush poet.

Magical moments
En route to Alice I spotted a dog near the roadside ahead. I slowed right down as it shot across the road almost in front of me. It was a dingo! I was thrilled.

A few days later, along the Lasseter Highway, in the distance ahead was Uluru — a magic moment. Night temperatures at the campsite reached -4. By the fifth day riding north the weather was definitely improving. By the time I reached Katherine my thermals had once again been relegated to the bottom of the bag. Stark desert gave way to savannah, which in turn became more and more tropical. The air smelt different. At last I reached Darwin.

Birthday recovery
July 22nd, my 61st birthday, was spent lying miserably in my tent or rushing off to the amenities block where my body rejected every attempt at keeping dehydration at bay. That evening I summoned sufficient energy to take myself to an evening clinic. Within 24 hours the prescribed medication started to take effect.

I moved out of the caravan park and into a room with a fan at the YWCA. I thought it would aid recuperation to be away from the sand flies, the humidity and the lack of sleep due to traffic noise on the highway not 500 metres from my tent site. Besides, I felt I deserved a bit of 'luxury' after six months of living in a small tent. I enjoyed a memorable visit to Kakadu before heading south again.

Two days later I arrived at Nitmiluk (Katherine Gorge). Wallabies grazed the grassed camping area at night while bats flew overhead. I spent hours sitting in the dark, at my tent entrance, watching them.

Leaving Katherine I turned west onto the Victoria Highway. Two days' riding brought me to my home state, Western Australia. The run from Halls Creek to Fitzroy Crossing was the longest stretch (295km) between petrol stations I encountered on the journey. Still nearly 2,000 kilometres to go, but I was aware my nomadic existence was soon to end.

The long stretches of empty road down the west coast, broken only by the occasional town or roadhouse, made me realise the vastness of my home state.

Gypsy and I had covered more than 27,000km without mechanical problems and on the original set of tyres.