Round Australia by bike - Day 033 - Conclusion

Unfortunately, this ride came to an end at about 5:40am on Tuesday, 17 June 2008, when I was side-swiped by a van travelling at 110kph.  It was dark, the road was straight, there was no oncoming traffic, I was lit up like a Christmas Tree, and was travelling on the extreme left-hand side of the road.  I suffered a laceration to my upper right arm, which later required stitches, and damage to my right elbow which was first diagnosed by a doctor as broken, but later confirmed to be a chipped bone.  My helmet was crushed when I landed on my head, but I did not even get a headache and remained conscious.  My bike suffered almost no damage at all, though the right-side pannier was cleanly sheared off by the rear wheel well of the vehicle.  I abandoned the ride after being despatched by a doctor to hospital by ambulance to have my injuries treated, with no prospect of being able to get back on the bike and ride in the short-term.  I had completed 8,880 kilometres in just over 31 days.

Round Australia by bike - Day 032 - Cataby to Gin Gin

Day:	032
Date:	17 June 2008
Start	Cataby
Finish	40km north of Gin Gin
Daily Distance:	40km
Daily Speed:	n.a.
Relative to Schedule:	n.a.
Daily Podcasts:	n.a.
GPS Track	Here
Journal:	Having finally got my wireless modem to work last night, I was up later than planned catching up on diary uploads and reading my incoming e-mail.  I didn’t get to bed until 10:30pm and decided to sleep in until 3:00am.  I packed and then stopped in at the 24-hour roadhouse next door for a slice of carrot cake and orange juice before hitting the road around 4:00am. It was raining when I got up, but had stopped by the time I started riding and, although mostly cloudy, a setting full moon occasionally peeped through.  The road was relatively flat and traffic was light and I made good time heading south towards Perth, which I would reach in another 160km.  Tomorrow I would pass Cape Leeuwin, the most south-westerly point of Australia and turn to head home along the south coast. It rained lightly every now and then and the road was wet.  At 5:30am, after about 40km, at a time when it wasn’t raining, I was on a long straight level stretch of highway when the road in front of me was lit up by the high-beam lights of a vehicle approaching from behind.  There was nothing coming in the opposite direction.  I felt safer riding at night than during the day because, aside from there being less traffic, you always had very early warning of approaching vehicles, from both in front and behind, because of their headlights.  I always rode with two headlights, powered by my front-wheel hub generator, and three battery-operated flashing rear lights (plus a spare not switched on), two on the bike and one on my helmet.  I also was wearing a large reflective yellow and silver patch, similar to the colours worn by police, which covered the entire back of the backpack I always wore when riding and had a large reflector on the bike rack at back.  I once had a driver who had passed me on the road at night tell me that he thought I was a police breath-testing station when he first spotted me in the far distance. Anyway, as the vehicle approached me from behind, I got as far left on the road as I could, either on the white road border line or on the narrow 25cm strip of road surface to the left of it, and waited for it to pass me.  Generally, when there was nothing coming the other way, passing vehicles moved over a lane giving me a wide clearance.  I cannot recall anybody passing close to me at night.  If there is a vehicle coming the other way at night, I steer off the road surface onto the verge and stop and wait until they have passed.  I waited for the vehicle to pass then, as it reached me, felt a huge impact on my right arm and elbow and remember thinking “he’s hit me”.  Next thing I was lying on the wet road, conscious enough to think that I must get off the road surface before another vehicle came along, and aware of the lights of a vehicle coming from the other direction.  Lying on my back, I inched off the road, gasping with the pain from my arm, and trying to examine the rest of my body for injuries.  When I got off the road onto the gravel, I just lay there collecting myself and groaning from the arm pain. My bike lay a few metres behind me.  It was pitch dark as the moon had now set.  The vehicle coming the other way turned out to be the one that had hit me.  The vehicle was a high-topped white escort van, mounted with amber flashing lights and signs, that was returning from Karratha in the Pilbara after escorting an oversize truck on a trip up there from Perth.  The driver thought he had killed me, and was very relieved to see me move my good arm as he approached.  He parked his van behind me and set the flashing lights going as a warning to other traffic.  He claimed not to have seen me until the moment of impact, which had smashed his wing mirror.  I don’t know what speed he was traveling at, but it was open highway and the limit was 110kph.  I slowly sat up and then stood up, even managing to put a little weight on my damaged arm.  Incredibly, I didn’t seem to have any other significant injuries, although I did feel like I had been in a prize fight and my arm hurt badly. I told the driver I didn’t want to call an ambulance at this stage and set about assessing the damage to my bike and gear in the dark.  As the van had passed me from behind, it had sheared off my right rear pannier bag with its wheel well, and collected my arm with its wing mirror.  The contents of the pannier were now strewn about 30 metres up the highway and the pannier bag was completely destroyed yet, miraculously, the bike seemed to have been untouched and the left pannier and rack-top bag were fine.  My rear-view mirror was snapped off either by the vehicle as it passed or the fall.  I found the rear light from my helmet in the middle of the road 10 metres on, still winking red, and the front headlamp from my helmet 20 metres up the road in the gravel on the opposite side.  I wasn’t conscious of banging my head or helmet, but daylight later revealed it was heavily compressed on the right rear side and fractured on the right side.  It was an expensive helmet and I think I may have got my money’s worth out of it. Despite the damage to my gear and arm, I was very conscious that, to continue my quest, I couldn’t afford to lose any time or accept any assistance in terms of a lift.  I slowly collected all of my belongings from along the road and then, by the headlights of the van, repacked them into my remaining bags.  I did a quick check of the bike and found that the wheels seemed to still rotate freely and the only damage seemed to be to the right-hand brake/gear lever which was awry but fixable with a bit of (left-handed) muscle.  I decided that I would get back on the bike and continue riding to Gin Gin (40km) and make a more measured assessment of my situation in daylight.  The van driver insisted that he was going to follow me in his van with the lights flashing until it got light.  I was angry with him for hitting me, but could see he was shaken up and genuinely remorseful, and I knew it would have been easy for him to keep going after he had hit me with little risk of being caught.  There was no point in arguing with him about the accident and I was grateful for his help in getting me going again.  I rode for 10km towards Gin Gin, but my arm was extremely painful to put any weight on and I was having increasing difficulty manipulating the right-hand brake and gear levers.  By 10km I knew that I would not be able to continue and needed to get the arm looked at by a doctor.  I stopped and the van driver made space for me and my bike in his van and drove us into Gin Gin where he had found out by radio there was a medical centre and an ambulance station.  The medical centre was closed, but he called an ambulance which arrived a few minutes later.  While I was being loaded into the ambulance, a doctor from the medical centre arrived and said she thought the arm was broken and I should be taken to hospital.  Two policemen also arrived and got some details from me before I was driven away to Joondalup Hospital.  The police took my bike and said they would work out a way to get it to me later.  The paramedics also offered to get my bike to me.  Everybody was extremely sympathetic, professional and kind. At the hospital, about 60km away, I was admitted to Emergency and spent the next four hours there getting assessed.  X-rays did not show a fracture but may indicate a chipped bone in the elbow.  I had a puncture wound in the back of my upper right arm where a large chunk of flesh had been gouged out and this was stitched up.  I refused pain-killers (I like to know when I am hurting!), but took the prescribed anti-inflammatories and left with instructions to wear a sling (for at least a couple of days), do no significant lifting for a week and to work on gentle mobility.  I caught a taxi to a motel in the north Perth suburb of Wanneroo where I booked in for the night. POSTSCRIPT The police kindly returned my bike to me at the motel the next morning and said they will be investigating whether the van driver had observed the rest regulations applying to professional drivers.  If not, then charges may be considered.  I think the police accept that I was appropriately lit up and riding on the left.  The van driver told the police and me that he sticks to the left of the road when driving at night because road train drivers tend to drive down the middle of the road. Sharon booked me a flight back to Sydney yesterday morning and picked me up from the airport.  As we were driving back to the Central Coast up the F3 Freeway at 110kph, I again felt a sense of wonder that I was not dead or in a wheelchair, having been hit by a vehicle traveling at such a speed (recognizing that my forward speed of 25kph would have mitigated the impact).  If the van had hit me a few centimeters to the left I would have been history and this sense of relief largely offsets the anger and disappointment I feel at having stolen from me what would have been one of my life’s great experiences (assuming I finished…not a given) after making a huge personal investment. It is now three days since the accident and my right arm is grotesquely swollen and bruised from the bicep to the knuckles, and difficult to move.  But the pain is not great and I have little doubt I will heal quickly.  The stitched wound also looks healthy.  I have a number of other cuts and abrasions, but they are no worse than the usual mountain-biking fare. I don’t think I will be making another attempt on the record for riding around Australia.  I do have in mind a West to East crossing of Australia on a mountain bike via the outback tracks and deserts, to follow the South to North ride I did in 2006, but it won’t be a ride against the clock.  And there are lots of other ideas for adventures to follow up. I’m very grateful for all of the encouragement and support I received from you all along the way.

Round Australia by bike - Day 031 - Northampton to Cataby

Day:	031
Date:	16 June 2008
Start	Northampton
Finish	Cataby
Daily Distance:	313km
Daily Speed:	n.a.
Relative to Schedule:	-514km
Daily Podcasts:	n.a.
GPS Track	Here
Journal:	More frustration with my laptop last night when it again wouldn’t connect to my wireless modem and in the end I gave up and went to bed.  After 5 hours sleep I was up at 1:00am and pedalling by 2:00am.  It was dry and not as cold as I expected, but that soon changed with the first icy downpour of the day.  As I neared Geraldton (52km), a major regional port and town, the wind began to blow strongly from the south, a headwind, and I struggled to make progress.  To boost my spirits I grabbed an egg and bacon sandwich from a 24 hour roadhouse at around 4am.  I struggled through the sleeping Geraldton and followed the signs to the next town, Dongara, where I planned to have a proper breakfast.  The road was narrow as it crossed a flat rural landscape in the dark with the wind buffeting me from the front and side, icy squalls every 20 minutes, and the spray from road trains drenching me every 30 seconds.  I was tired, cold, wet and miserable, made more so by the fact that my radio had died that morning (after a few flakey days) and I couldn’t listen to the cricket or current affairs programs.  And I kept telling myself that it was all self-inflicted and that I could end it all any time I wanted.  That made it worse. Eventually I reached Dongara and had a good roadhouse breakfast.  Some blue sky had appeared, but the wind, traffic and rain squalls persisted.  The road began to climb away from the rural area into heath-like rolling hills and finally onto a heathy plateau.  It was interesting country and had some good views, but the cycling was hard work and my average speed was low.  I reached Eneabba where I had a lunch of two home-made sausage rolls and a pastie sitting on a park bench until another rain squall hit. I then set out in the rain for the last 70km to Badgingarra where I hoped to get a cabin in the caravan park.  The road climbed and descended over some huge heath-covered hills which made for very slow progress, especially with the wind adding to the task.  Several times I reached a crest, hoping the climbing was over, to see, far in the distance, tiny caterpillar-like road trains crawling up yet another huge climb.  The scenery was awesome.  It took me 4.5 hours to cover the 70km and I reached Badgingarra at 5:20pm ready for a shower and rest.  Alas, they had nothing, so I had to set out for another 42km for Cataby where there was a hotel/motel where I knew I could get a room.  Fortunately, the hills were nearly over, but it was peak hour, there were lots of road-trains and other traffic and the road was narrow and wet, and it was dark. Twice,  almost felt road-trains brush me as they thundered past and I rode as fast as I could, exhausted as I was, to get to Cataby.  I arrived soon after 7pm, got a room and had fish and chips and a toasted sandwich from the 24-hour roadhouse next door.  I go through Perth tomorrow and will end up having a relatively short day because, to go further than Mandurah, my original target, I would have to go too far to the next available accommodation.  However, given my late arrival here, I will probably sleep in until 3am. It’s still raining!

Round Australia by bike - Day 030 - Wooramel to Northampton

Day:	030
Date:	15 June 2008
Start	Wooramel Roadhouse
Finish	Northampton
Daily Distance:	306km
Daily Speed:	n.a.
Relative to Schedule:	-551km
Daily Podcasts:	n.a.
GPS Track	Here
Journal:	I dragged myself out of bed at 1:00am after five hours sleep and was riding by about 1:45am.  There was a bright moon and the sky was clear, although it was the coolest it had been for a long time and I wore an extra thermal top.  The road was reasonably flat and I made good time, stopping briefly at the Overlander Roadhouse at 5:30am.  They were just getting ready to open in preparation for the arrival of the Greyhound bus at 6:00am.  I chatted with the guy opening up while I ate a snack I had brought with me and then headed off before the bus arrived.  I arrived at the Billabong Roadhouse (124km) at 8:00am and ordered the big brekky.  As the sun rose, so did the cross/following wind which made life quite pleasant although the road had rolling hills/sand dunes as it passed through a sandy heath-like area with scrubby vegetation and red soil.  I made good time and was thinking about an earlier finish time when suddenly the sky clouded over and a strong south-westerly change arrived.  In the space of about 30 minutes the wind switched to a strong head/crosswind, it got colder and driving rain began.  The last 80km was much slower because of the wind but also because the road climbed up onto the Kalbarri plateau and the scenery changed to a rural mix of wheat and cattle.  The fields were very green and the hills large and rounded.  With the rain and wind it was very bleak as the road climbed higher and higher, seemingly interminably. I finally reached Northampton at 5:30pm and checked into the town hotel/motel where I later had a buffet dinner.  I didn’t feel too bad considering the tough last 80km, but know I am going to be very tired when I get up very early tomorrow.  I wore two pairs of cycling knicks all day and my chafing problems have lessened.

Round Australia by bike - Day 028 & 029 - Fortescue River to Wooramel

Day:	028 & 029
Date:	13 & 14 June 2008
Start	Fortescue River Roadhouse
Finish	Wooramel Roadhouse
Daily Distance:	636km
Daily Speed:	n.a.
Relative to Schedule:	-576km
Daily Podcasts:	Here & here
GPS Track	Here
Journal:	I woke at midnight after about four hours sleep and, conscious of the big task I had set myself for the day, hastened to get away as quickly as possible.  The skies were clear and the Southern Cross was directly ahead of me as the road set out into the plains.  Straight away, I realized it was going to be difficult to make the 380km target for the day.  Although it wasn’t strong, there was definitely a slight opposing wind and the road seemed to be gradually ascending although it was difficult to tell in the dark   Dawn revealed some remote and awesome scenery.  The spinifex covered red soil plateau which stretched into the distance was broken here and there by mesas and low rocky mountain ranges and hills.  There was little evidence of human activity and the angled dawn sunlight created some fantastic shadows and luminous red rocks in places.  The geology in the Pilbara is very old and the hills and mountains I could see are probably the eroded remains of some once-mighty mountains.  The scenery compensated somewhat fo0r my fatigue, the climbs and the headwinds and I tried to see it in a positive light. I’m gradually refining the art of taking photographs while riding to save time and added a few to my collection here.  Unfortunately the cut-down software on my laptop doesn’t include the means to downsize the picture files for internet display so website pictures may have to wait for my return. I kept the pressure on myself to maintain a good pace but, by the time I reached the Nanutarra Roadhouse (159km) at about 9:00am, the only supply point for the day, I could tell I wasn’t going to make Minilya Roadhouse (a further 227km), my target for the day by their closing time of 8:00pm. So called them and cancelled my room booking.  After a big breakfast at Nanutarra, I bought sandwiches, cakes, drinks, etc., enough to last me 24 hours of solid riding.  The lady at the Roadhouse was very kind and threw in extras and gave me discounts on various things.  I set off into what was becoming a warmish day across the landscape which became flatter and more featureless.  At a rest area I met a family taking a year to travel around Australia with their caravan and they insisted on taking some pictures.  I was envious of their trip and could tell their two boys were excited by it. I pushed on feeling more and more tired, the gradual hills and slight headwind wearing me down.  Later in the day, the road climbed through a series of long red spinifex-covered sand dunes, each about 50 metres high and about a kilometer apart.  I also saw a few emus, one of which kept pace with me while I rode and struggled to take a picture.  Soon after dark, I began to feel very tired and decided that, if I wanted to keep riding through the night I needed to have a quick nap.  I found a spot just off the road, climbed into my tent, without erecting it, and woke two hours later in bright moonlight, dreading the thought of resuming riding.  I forced myself to get up and get going and rode the 50km to Minilya Roadhouse which was now closed and dead quiet.  I found myself a quiet spot and had a sandwich dinner admiring the stars and trying to stay awake when, around 1am, a Greyhound bus going from Perth to Broome arrived and about 12 backpackers got off and shivered in the moonlight.  They just stood there waiting for something and then another Greyhound bus going from Broome to Perth arrived and shortly after yet another, which I assume was from the nearby Coral Coast.  I noticed that the Perth-bound bus was towing a box trailer that my bike could have easily fitted into.  Soon people and drivers swapped buses and they drove off into the night leaving the place as quiet as it had been.  This probably happens every night of the year here. I continued riding but it was becoming a nightmare.  My legs were shot and I was barely making 15kph, on top of which I kept dozing off (there was virtually no traffic) and weaving all over the road.  At some point I passed a sign saying I was leaving the Tropics.  In the end I decided there was no alternative to more sleep and just walked into the grass off the side of the road, making sufficient noise to scare any snakes and climbed into my tent again on what proved to be a particularly hard and stony piece of ground.  I was asleep in no time and woke three hours later as it began to get light. Saturday morning traffic was quite heavy and it felt like the roadtrains were driving right through the tent. I began riding again, feeling relatively refreshed although in pain from some butt chafing that was getting worse.  I crossed the Gascoigne River as I approached Carnarvon and entered an area of banana and other fruit plantations.  At the Carnarvon turn-off (it’s on the ocean 5km from the main highway), the western-most point of my journey, I stopped at a roadhouse about 11:30am and called the Wooramel Roadhouse (119km) my target for the night to book a room.  They said they had a basic cabin, but that they closed at 6pm.  I bought a pie and egg and bacon sandwich which I ate hastily for my breakfast/lunch and set out for Wooramel.  What at first was a tailwind turned into a cool crosswind, but I only had one break on the long straight road which crossed a vast grass and scrub-covered red soil plain that in places has a lot of standing water from recent rains.  I reached Wooramel at 5:30pm and bought a dinner of home-made vegetable pasties, showered and looked forward to sleeping in a bed, even if only for about five hours.

Round Australia by bike - Day 027 - Port Hedland to Fortescue River

Day:	027
Date:	12 June 2008
Start	Port Hedland
Finish	Fortescue River Roadhouse
Daily Distance:	336km
Daily Speed:	n.a.
Relative to Schedule:	-636km
Daily Podcasts:	Here
GPS Track	Here
Journal:	As testament to my stupefied state the previous evening, I didn’t set my alarm correctly and overslept, not waking until midnight.  However, it felt good to get about 7.5 hours sleep.  I rode quietly out of Port Hedland, counting my good fortune at having just got through a level crossing before one of the interminable iron ore trains began crossing.  The road seemed to climb gradually out of town and the wind was a slight head/crosswind, making the cycling a bit laborious under a cloud covered sky.  Away from the town lights it was very dark.  After a couple of hours it began to spit with rain, occasionally getting a bit heavier, but it wasn’t cold. Dawn revealed a fairly barren landscape of tussock grass, red soil and rocks, and some low hills which the road occasionally crossed.  The wind began to swing round to a cross/tailwind and the mainly level road allowed me to make good speed.  The scene looked bleak and not unlike some of the bleaker moorland in the UK, but the temperature was around 16C and it probably doesn’t get much colder this close to the coast.  There was plenty of mining-related traffic on the road and for the whole day signs of mining activity could be seen here and there, such as remote collections of portacabins, drilling rigs, new roads, graders, gas facilities and so on. I reached Roebourne around 10:30am and it turned out to be quite a picturesque old small settlement with some very solid looking old stone houses and other buildings which contrasted with some very modern and large community buildings and sporting facilities.  I found the Post Office and mailed back home some items I had decided I could do without to save weight, including a few clothes, my sleeping mat and tent poles and my space blanket.  From there I rode to a roadhouse at the turn-off to Karratha, a major mining town, hoping to get a late big brekky, but they didn’t have a restaurant and I made do with a couple of pies.  I decided at that time that I would make the Fortescue River Roadhouse, 100km further on, my goal for the day and called them to book a room.  The remainder of the ride was through increasingly hilly country though the wind was still favourable.  At lunch, I also called the Minilya Roadhouse and booked a room for there for tomorrow night, making it a big 380km day.  If the terrain or wind is adverse, I probably won’t make it, but there are no accommodation alternatives within a reasonable distance and I do want to make up time.  They close at 8:00pm and I have promised to call them from the Nanutarra Roadhouse (159km) at breakfast if I don’t think I can make it, although they offered to leave a key in the room door for me if I provide credit card details when I call in the morning. There are a lot of mining-related workers staying at the remote Fortescue River Roadhouse where I arrived around 5:40pm and I was able to get the set evening meal of shepherds pie for dinner which was tasty.  I won’t get much sleep tonight because I need to be on the road before 1:00am to have any hope of making Minilya tomorrow night.

Round Australia by bike - Day 025 & 026 - Roebuck Plains to Port Hedland

Day:	025 & 026
Date:	10 & 11 June 2008
Start	Roebuck Plains Roadhouse
Finish	Port Hedland
Daily Distance:	565km
Daily Speed:	23.4kph
Relative to Schedule:	-641km
Daily Podcasts:	Here
GPS Track	Here
Journal:	As usual, I didn’t get to bed as early as hoped, and ended up with 5.5 hours sleep and a 3:30am departure.  Initial going was good, with clear skies and no wind and I made it my goal to have a break every 60km, which would coincide, in two places, with rest areas where there would be picnic tables and shelters.  The road has a marker every 10km and you find yourself looking for these and anticipating them.  When having a break, I usually just lean the bike up against the kilometer marker and sit on the road or a groundsheet while having a break.  I noticed at one of the 60km markers there were the tracks of a single narrow-tyred bike that had lent up against the same marker.  I bet it was Erik Straarup’s bike from his completed record attempt a month ago. During the morning it gradually got hotter and a tail/crosswind gradually blew up.  At my rest area breaks, I was always immediately visited by grey nomads offering food and drink and wanting to have a chat.  The countryside was an unchanging scene of spinifex, acacia and red dirt, with some gentle undulations.  From occasional higher rises you could see identical countryside stretching out to the horizon, although the Indian Ocean is only about 30km to the west. Around noon some ominous clouds began to form, including a particularly long grey heavy strip.  Rain could be seen falling in a few places and the wind strengthened nd swung around to become a headwind.  I was cursing my luck at encountering headwinds for the second day in a row for the last 100km, and my progress slowed dramatically. I finally reached the Sandfire Roadhouse shortly before 6pm and found out that nothing had changed since I was stranded there with a torn thigh muscle ten months ago.  They were still selling very limited supplies from a portable cabin and none of the buildings had been rebuilt since the fire of Easter 2007.  It had the feel of a very remote outpost.  Some motorbikers, on their way back from the Ulysses meeting in Townsville Just after I had passed through there were gathered around chatting in the gloom while I had a couple of pies for dinner and bought supplies to see me through to the next re-supply point. I left around 7pm for the 280km run to Port Hedland and further, hopefully.  I intended to ride as much of the night and next day as I could manage in an effort to make up some of the time lost earlier in the trip.  However, progress was slow, primarily because I had developed some bad butt chafing which made it difficult to sit on the seta for extended periods (too much information, I know).  I didn’t want to stand up on the pedals for too long, however, in case that caused other injuries.  I messed around for a while stopping every so often to apply creams, change knicks, or try the lambswool cover I had brought with me for the seat.  Nothing seemed to make that much difference and I knew what I really needed was to get off the bike for a while, and get the shorts off.  However, I had made a commitment to myself to ride through the night and did not want to quit.  I kept going, painfully and at a slower pace.  Then it started to rain and I had to stop and weather-proof my gear.  The rain was occasionally heavy and I had some miserable periods.  Around midnight, I reached the closed (for the night Pardoo Roadhouse and found myself a dry telephone box to sit in while I ate some of the sandwiches I had bought at Sandfire, while the residents and guests slept in the buildings and caravans behind me.  It was a gloomy and surreal scene.  The roadhouse driveway was red dirt which had turned into slimy red mud which stuck to everything. I continued on through the darkness and occasional rain, hoping that I could make it to Port Hedland for breakfast.  However, around 4:00am I started to lose my focus and just got off the side of the road, lay the bike down and crawled into my tent without erecting it, put my wet jacket under my head and immediately went to sleep on very hard and stony ground.  I woke up about 90 minutes later, as dawn was breaking, and forced myself to get up, pack up, and start riding again.  The nap had refreshed me and I made good time, with the help of a following breeze, towards Port Hedland.  As I got closer the landscape turned into spinifex pastures with few trees and some low mountains heara and there.  Signs of human activity increased with high tension power lines, rail lines and earthworks gradually becoming more prominent, as did the ubiquitous mining vehicles, red-mud-spattered 4WDs with high flag masts so they could be more easily be seen in heavy equipment areas.  In the last kilometers, there were significant roadworks, which also left me and my bike well-spattered with the red mud.  I reached the Port Hedland Roadhouse around 11:45am and ordered a big brekky with the intention of eating it then heading off to Whim Creek (117km) for the night.  However, I called them while having breakfast and they told me they were fully-booked with miners.  I then decided to stay in Port Hedland and get some much-needed rest.   Prices are crazy here because of the mining boom and I declined the budget motel rate of $199 and paid an exorbitant $140 for a crappy cabin in the campground. I washed out my gear in the hope of minimizing the risk of aggravating chafing and am going to bed early in the hope of starting at midnight and making another attempt to regain some lost ground.