Because of the weather conditions, the Oodnadatta track, the 700 kilometers that link Marree with Marla along the Stuart Highway, passing the southern end of Lake Eyre, was open with a restriction for 4 wheel drives only. Not the perfect precondition to jump into this adventure without worries. With a “you’ll be fine”, the attending roadhouse manager gave me his ok. Not aware of what will expecting me on my first longer track off the tarmac, I took off quite early in the morning as I couldn’t find a good sleep this night anyway.

The beginning was smooth, a perfectly prepared gravel road. Tensely I waited for worse, pushing my KTM over the short sandy stretches now and then, speeding up at the rare and short parts with corrugations. Soon I reached the edge of the Lake Eyre which water level is as high as last seen in 1974.

The road remained in a good condition and from hour to hour, the trust into my vehicle grew, as did the pleasure to ride through the endless and empty flats. Surprisingly early I reached William Creek, a lovely roadhouse in the middle of the wonderful landscape. What initially was thought to be the stage finish for this day turned out to be the place for my lunch break, a cheese sandwich, a handful of peanuts and three ginger cookies, topped with a cooled Coke at the bar of the roadhouse, listening to the chat of three of the ten habitants of William Creek. To waste the time, to escape loneliness, I continued my working day.

Short before dried and maybe washed out creeks I go off the gas a little bit, reducing the speed for maybe five to ten kmh and simultaneously with the front wheel entering the softer ground of the dip I pull through the throttle again. The engine pushes us forward, the exhaust is roaring, depending on how loose the ground is the whole body of the bike is weaving softly to become stiff in the very next moment again. Every one of these sections spreads happiness, I just love it. Feeling the elements, sense every little movement of the motorcycle, sense the ground you are riding on. Every single section deepens the trust into the relation between the machine and me, let me forget about the effort it takes, it feels like flying. And I love the colorful birds I can observe over the whole distance. The ones with a bright, lucent green back are my favorites. And when a swarm of them is spreading out of the bushes when I pass, I shout to them: “Show me your ass!”

Maybe sometimes you have to go somewhere close to your limits to push them further. The motorcycle got much smaller, lighter and intimate. And when there were concerns that my Buddhie might not be the right partner for this continent, these concerns were lost somewhere on the way. Not until a few hours after I arrived in Alice Springs, I realized the effort it took. I felt completely exhausted. And happy.