Destination: The Kimberley

As the nose of the single-prop Cessna clawed its way skywards, the sheer magnitude of the wilderness became clear – as far as the eye could see, in all directions, red earth and low savannah stretched to horizon.

We'd just bounced our way down the dirt airstrip at Drysdale River Station, a one-million-acre cattle property situated just north of the famous (or infamous) Gibb River Road, roughly halfway between Broome, WA, and Darwin, NT.

One. Million. Acres. To put that in perspective, it's nearly twice the size of Luxembourg. And against the backdrop of the wider Kimberley region, in the north of Western Australia, it's still merely a speck on the map.

The flight gave me a fresh perspective on the vastness of this largely untouched corner of Australian outback, and was a unique counterpoint to this journey's main attraction – exploring the Kimberley aboard a Honda Africa Twin with Daryl Beattie Adventures.

Golden ticket
Daryl contacted Bikesales earlier in the year, with the runner-up to the 1995 500cc World Motorcycle Championship – now Network Ten sports commentator and off-road tour operator – offering a spot on any of his Africa Twin adventures.

A slightly-less-arduous complement to the group's Cape York, Canning Stock Route, Finke Desert Race and Simpson Desert tours, which are conducted on Honda's CRF450X enduro (Ed: but we have no doubt Daryl is lining up for the new CRF450L!), there are five Africa Twin tours on offer: two in Tasmania; Alice Springs to Broome; Broome to Halls Creek; and Halls Creek to Birdsville. I'd never visited the Kimberley before, so Broome to Halls Creek it was.

Daryl launched Daryl Beattie Adventures five years ago, and since then has built the company up into Australia's pre-eminent outback motorcycle touring operation. Tours are fully supported by an Iveco Eurocargo 4x4 truck kitted out for remote-area travel – click here to see my review of this beast on sister site, trucksales.com.au.

Safety is paramount, and Daryl Beattie Adventures staff are remote-area first-aid trained and carry first-aid kits and satellite phones. There's even a defibrillator in the truck.

This particular trip was something of a grand prix reunion, as our lead rider was Peter 'Buddha' Luczkowski (a former mechanic for Mick Doohan and Kenny Roberts Jr), while Daryl was riding sweep and and riding shotgun in the Iveco was none other than Jeremy Burgess – former crew chief to Doohan, Valentino Rossi and Wayne Gardner.

With expert steerer Scott 'Scooter' McLean behind the wheel of the Iveco, we nearly had a one-to-one ratio of staff to participants – to say we were well looked after is an understatement!

In addition to Bikesales, four more participants had signed on for this particular trip: Ryan, Nathan, and husband-and-wife couple Frank and Pat.

Frank and Pat are worthy of a story in their own right, these retirees having already guided their own Africa Twin across Europe and Asia. They'd signed on for the full outback loop with Daryl, from Alice Springs to Broome, through the Kimberley and then back down to Birdsville – to which they added the legs to and from their home in Mackay, Queensland!

Next up for the intrepid duo? A run from the bottom of Africa to the top – they're the biking epitome of carpe diem (seize the day)!

Broome beginnings
After flying from chilly old Melbourne to balmy Broome and overnighting at a tourist park, we gathered on Cable Beach for the obligatory 'start' photo, before setting off up the Dampier Peninsula for Cape Leveque.

Other participants had ended their trip in Broome, a picturesque coastal town famous for its pearl industry and epic tides, meaning myself, Ryan and Nathan hopped on the bikes to which the others had bid farewell.

We had a selection of low-kilometre Honda Africa Twins at our disposal, while Daryl was lucky enough to receive one of the first of the new 'Africa Twin Adventure Sports' to reach Australia, which boasts extra suspension travel, a ride-by-wire throttle and a far bigger tank, among other worthy updates.

I prised the key from his grip in the middle of our seven-day run through the Kimberley and it really is a big improvement for anyone who really wants to get off the beaten track – click here to read my review of the new model.

The road up to Cape Leveque is typical of major outback routes, being a broad ribbon of red earth stretching off to the horizon, bordered by two berms of sand on either side followed by low scrub.

If you've never ridden on sand, the first encounter can be, shall we say, alarming. There you are, admiring the never-ending expanse of blue sky while keeping an eye out for wandering stock, when the 'bars spontaneously start break-dancing and the front wheel decides it's a far better judge of its own destiny than you are.

I've ridden on sand several times before but not in the last decade, although after some acclimatisation we were all getting along just fine. In any case, Frank was taking it in his stride with Pat sitting on the back, thereby eliminating any opportunity for the rest of us to moan of the hardship!

The sea's bounty
After 220km we reached One Arm Point, up the top of Cape Leveque, and visited the Ardiyooloon hatchery. Here, on a windswept peninsula, the Bardi Jaawi people polish trochus shells to a brilliant sheen, the stunning end result then sold as jewellery, ornaments, and buttons.

A walk around the hatchery's marine tanks is fascinating, with many examples of local aquatic life on show. Barramundi, mangrove jacks, clown fish and even a sea turtle are an arm's length away, as is a stone fish – accidently step on one of these ugly buggers and you're cactus…

After fuelling up at the local workshop, we took a detour to the Cygnet Bay Pearl Farm for a spectacular seafood lunch overlooking King Sound. Pearls are a big deal up here, they still command astonishing prices on the international market.

The return run back to the highway involved the same route, and with everyone having found their feet on the sand we returned to the bitumen without any nasty surprises. Not everyone is so fortunate up here, as a previously rolled 4WD bore testament…

Our digs for the night was the Willare Bridge Roadhouse, just east of the mighty Fitzroy River. These outposts offer a respite from the hardships of the road, having not just fuel but hot food, bars, showers, camping and accommodation.

After a 600km day we parked our steeds around the Iveco and embarked on what would rapidly become a well-honed process: set up camp, have a wash, have dinner and a few beers and then off to bed.

On these outback tours life is governed by the sun, and after it's slipped below the horizon and bellies are full, sleep is never far away. Food is either a hearty roadhouse meal or, when camping in the bush, an equally hearty (and exceptionally tasty) feast knocked up by Scooter at the truck. Either way, there's no need to lower culinary expectations just because you're miles from anywhere (and Daryl's Cape Grim steaks and his mum's potato bake are to die for!).

The accommodation's comfy too, comprising a fold-out stretcher bed with integrated mozzie net. While the others – all thin-blooded Queenslanders, I might add – also donned the canvas fly over the top, I preferred to drift off while gazing up at a brilliant night sky, the occasional passing road train the only thing to break the silence of an outback night.

Mornings had a rhythm all their own. Get the bike gear on, pack up the bedding, eat breakfast and then fill your Camelbak from the truck's drinking water tank. Daryl recommends a three-litre water bladder for this trip, along with extra room for snacks, cameras and so on.

I soon came to regard my Camelbak H.A.W.G. LR 20, supplied by the Aussie importer especially for this trip, as a lifeline – with temperatures pushing into the high 30s and the general exertion of off-road riding, you certainly wouldn't last long without one.

Getting to grips with the Gibb
Day two we droned up the blacktop to Derby, which services the pastoral and mining industries and is one of just three major towns in the Kimberley (the others being Broome and Kununurra). It's also home to the highest tides in Australia, with a difference between high and low tides of nearly 12 metres.

The striking boab tree is a ubiquitous sight and on Derby's outskirts we stopped at The Prison Tree – a boab so big that in the 19th century aborigines in custody were occasionally incarcerated within its trunk for short periods.

These days it's home to the many lizards and insects that live in its gnarled bark, and stands as a stark reminder of Australia's violent and not-too-distant past.

Derby also marks the start (or the end) of the Gibb River Road – a 660km-long dirt road that dissects the Kimberley and ends (or starts) near Kununurra.

Pushed through the landscape in the middle of last century, it's a lifeline for the many cattle stations, small communities and the occasional mine that dot the Kimberley but, like most of the unsealed roads here, it's impassable in the wet season.

Desert oasis
After the flat country that surrounds it, the soaring cliffs of Windjana Gorge are an abrupt contrast. The short hike into the gorge itself was far enough in full riding gear and the sweltering heat, and the cool, green waters that snake through the gorge's base looked incredibly inviting – save for the dozens of crocs lazily sunning themselves on the far bank!

Fresh water crocodiles – or 'freshies', as they're known – aren't anywhere near as dangerous as their much larger saltwater cousins, but their rows of pointed teeth can still inflict plenty of damage if they feel threatened. A photo of a recently chewed foot on a noticeboard was sufficient deterrent for most, I suspect…

Pushing on across the Leopold Ranges, we experienced some of the best riding of the trip. The afternoon sun lit up the exposed buttes of the surrounding peaks in a brilliant blaze of vermillion and ochre, while the track itself wound its way through valleys of eucalypts and then over distant ridgelines. The mountains here are modest by many standards, but extending to heights over 900 metres they still stand as impressive silent, ancient sentinels, gazing over the savannah beyond as they have for eons.

Dust is an ever-present companion on the Gibb River Road, the fine powder hanging like an impenetrable mist for minutes after any passing vehicle. Our conga-line of six Africa Twins spread out for miles to ensure we each got a reasonably clear view ahead, but overtaking the most common example of the local fauna, Greyus Nomadus, and the plumes of silt thrown up by its mobile habitat, Caravanus Expensivus, can be a fraught affair. As for the passing road trains, it's just better to pull over and wait for a bit for the dust to disperse.

Heart of the Kimberley
After a pleasant stay at the Manning Gorge camp site, just off the Gibb near the Mount Barnett Roadhouse, we had an easy half-day ride the following day to Drysdale River Station, which itself is about 60 kays north of what is roughly the middle of the Gibb River Road.

Here Ryan, Nathan, Frank, Pat and myself enjoyed the superb scenic flight I mentioned at the beginning of this tale, over the Mitchell Falls and the northern Kimberley coastline. The flight is a must, for it surely hammers home the sheer sense of space up here, and it's the only way to see the Mitchell Falls without a major drive (and a long hike, if the budget doesn't extend to the on-site chopper service!).

Here we had some time to relax and recharge – something we surely needed to do before the rigours of the following day. We departed at 6:00am the following morning bound for the most northerly community in the Kimberley, Kalumbaru, and Honeymoon Bay. The latter, about 30km further north, is pretty much where the tracks run out.

After hearing tales of the condition of the road the night before, Frank and Pat decided to remain at Drysdale River Station, with Scooter, JB and the Iveco. While the first 150 kays were said to be 'good' – a term to be treated with caution up here – the last 50 to Kalumbaru were 'bad', which could mean anything from crappy to non-existent.

The road itself had only been opened for a few days after being cut off by the wet season, so it was with a real sense of adventure that we shut the gate behind us at Drysdale.

The road reports were pretty well right. The first three-quarters was actually pretty good, while the last 50 kays alternated from sand to rocky creek beds, boulders and washouts.

Floodplains – dips in the track for creeks and water drainage – are frequent, and while water levels had already dropped considerably as the dry season started to bite, some were deeper than others. For the deeper ones we opted to dismount and push the bikes through. While the water may have only been knee high, it was better to play it safe than to risk revising a drowned Africa Twin…

The country around here is just amazing, and even though I was behind Buddha, Ryan and Nathan, I still enjoyed some memorable wildlife encounters. Distinctive Brahman and other cattle breeds are common, but fortunately fairly docile, while at one point I rounded a bend to find a dingo staring me down, before casually sauntering off into the scrub. My favourite, however, was when I came over a crest and spied a solitary male brolga ( a variety of crane).

Nearly five feet high and with dusty grey plumage and a bright red crest, there was an eerie, majestic quality to this bird – it was an unforgettable sight.

Feeling the heat
Upon reaching Kalumbaru I was pretty well knackered. It had taken over four hours to cover 200km and, with the mercury nudging 37 degrees, this southern city slicker was starting to feel the heat.

There's not much to Kalumbaru itself – a store, a mission, some ramshackle housing and a several dogs intent on devouring hapless motorcyclists – so after refuelling the bikes (at $2.99 a litre – yikes!) and a quick meat pie ("No sauce; that will come in on the truck in a couple of weeks") we continued to Honeymoon Bay.

Sadly, the odd glimpse of the Indian Ocean through the trees was all I'd see of the pristine waters up here, as the combination of the heat and the deep sand took their toll, and I began spending more time sailing over the handlebars than sitting behind them.

My fourth Superman impression was enough – with just a handful of kays to go, I turned back to Kalumbaru. I hadn't been drinking enough and now dehydration was in full swing. Daryl dished out a glucose shot, I ditched my jacket and drank a heap of water, before returning to Kalumbaru to wait for the others.

It was disappointing to miss Honeymoon Bay, but more important that I recover for the return run to Drysdale River Station. After all, getting the truck up here to retrieve a bike would take the best part of a full day, and potentially breaking a bone meant a long and painful recovery to the nearest airstrip, and a Royal Flying Doctor flight. We all regrouped in Kalumbaru about 30 minutes later, topped up our Camelbaks, and began the trek south.

It became a race to make it back to Drysdale before sundown, and it was a relief to turn into the station's entrance just as last light faded.

What a day! Nearly 450km had taken us 11 hours. We'd seen the heart of the Kimberley, witnessed just how remote some Australian communities can be, and had forged a heap of memories. From inspecting the old World War II bomber wreckage near the Kalumbaru airfield, to the black cockatoos wheeling overhead and the challenges of the road itself, it was an unforgettable day.

Civilisation beckons
The remainder of the trip passed quickly; from Drysdale we returned to the Gibb and pulled up for the night at Home Valley Station, where Ryan and I hiked to the nearby Bindoola Gorge.

The next day it was across the Pentecost River and through the Pentecost and Cockburn Ranges before the Gibb River Road came to an end. With our return to the tar came the realisation that our Kimberley adventure was nearly over, albeit with a very pleasant detour to Lake Argyle, just south of Kununurra.

Australia's largest man-made lake, Lake Argyle holds roughly 20 times the capacity of Sydney Harbour – and up to 40 times after a big wet season. While some of the guys got a bird's-eye view with a chopper flight, I opted for more leisurely cruise, getting up close with a few of the lake's 30,000-odd crocs, plus rock wallabies, wallaroos and teeming schools of cat fish (silver cobbler) and archer fish.

That left one last day to head south to Halls Creek, all done on the Great Northern Highway. Frank and Pat took the opportunity to fly over the nearby Bungle Bungles, while the rest of us kicked back at the local pub, with its rather 'active' nightlife.

The next day Frank and Pat were continuing on with the group down the Tanami Track and on to Birdsville, while Ryan, Nathan and I flew to Broome (in an eight-seater twin-prop, an experience in itself!). Lucky others, meanwhile, were flying into Halls Creek and jumping straight on the bikes, their adventures just beginning.

Just do it!
Reflecting on this epic journey, stretching over seven days and 2600km, it's almost like you need some time to process the enormity of not just the trip itself, but the vast wilderness it traverses. Everything in the Kimberley is on a different scale – the distances, the sky, the size of the properties – and wafting through it on a motorcycle reveals just how insignificant we really are. Civilisations may come and go, but the Kimberley – and the Aussie outback in general – will remain, almost laughing at man's feeble efforts to tame it.

I had an incredible time in the Kimberley with Daryl Beattie Adventures. Undertaking a solo exploration of this part of the world is a mammoth undertaking and one fraught with risk, so to see this remote corner of the world with first-class backup, and in the company of a great bunch of guys, was a true privilege. Drop your excuses, hop on Daryl's website and book yourself in for this or any of his other epic rides – you'll be so glad you did…