Tops tips for long-distance riding

It seemed like a fantastic idea at the time: buy a cheap and cheerful motorcycle in Darwin, fly in to collect it, and ride home to Melbourne – some 3800km away. Then, hopefully, recoup some of the costs by selling it. How hard can it be?

Okay, there might be some obvious flaws. Such as, the words ‘cheap’ and ‘reliability’ don’t often hang together in the same sentence. And what would you buy? It’s clearly going to be a motorcycle you’ve never clapped eyes on before, but what model?

I could at least narrow down the potential for disaster by buying a type I was already familiar with, namely a BMW R1150GS with ABS II. That means it’s a little over 20 years old – long enough to have led a colourful life. However, I already had one in the shed and knew it was essentially robust and, by current standards, relatively simple.

With about 90,000km under its wheels, what has now become known in the family as the Darwin bike was an easy choice after a little chat with the seller. It cost $4000 with enough registration left to get me home.

Years ago (maybe decades ago), someone warned me that the ride down the Stuart Highway (the main artery from Darwin to Adelaide) was straight and dead boring. As is often the case in these situations, they were half right. It is pretty straight.

Boring? Not so much. In fact, far from it. This is one of those rare places in the world where you can travel for hours in relative safety while not talking to, or having to engage with, another soul.

You see road trains and other traffic, but no houses, no fences, no overhead wires –sod-all other than a wonderful vista that’s often at first blush flat and featureless to the point where it challenges your very concept of a horizon. It forces you to think about your own place in the world while looking at the subtleties and drama of passing scenery: the changes in light, or vegetation, or the birds of prey coming out to hunt every day around noon.

One of the highlights of the Stuart Highway run is the abundant evidence of the ‘gone troppo’ effect. People do strange things to amuse themselves, such as dress up termite mounds as relatives, or create roadside monuments using worn-out shoes and a Hills Hoist.

In case you were wondering, the R1150GS turned out to be a great choice. Easy to handle, comfortable, with more than enough performance to do the job. Oh, and reliable. The plan was to sell it when we got home, but a flat market and an insulting offer meant it has instead found a place in the shed. Oh dear, what a pity, never mind…

1. Pace yourself

One personal rule is to limit the riding hours: 8.00am to 4.00pm. There are a few good reasons for that. One is, being out anywhere near dawn or dusk is inviting trouble in the form of a collision with the nearest wandering kangaroo.

The late-ish start means you’re unlikely to be the first one to encounter any issues for the day, such as ice, fallen trees, roadkill or whatever. By then, someone else will most likely have cleared the path.

Third, it’s a way of avoiding punishing mileages. For any normal rider, 700km (about as much as you’ll squeeze into eight hours) is a big day and stitching a few of them together is a way to turn yourself into a mess of aches and pains. Vary the distances from day to day – some easy, and maybe the odd catch-up.

I’m also a fan of making sure you spend a couple of nights in the one place at intervals during a long trip. Sometimes it’s really good to wake up and realise you don’t have to pack and get moving but can linger over that extra coffee or go for a walk and play tourist.

2. Hydrate

Aside from fatigue, dehydration is a prime issue on long rides, particularly in hot conditions. The problem is that it tends to sneak up on you and the first time you become aware of it is when a creeping headache hits. Let it go too long and it will affect your reflexes and judgement.

A simple precaution is to keep a bottle or two of water on hand. Every time you fuel the motorcycle take a big drink yourself. And a little more every time you pull up for a picture or a pee.

3. Spare fuel

Let me tell you a little story: among the couple of big rides I tackled this year was the Darwin to Melbourne gig (about 3900km) mentioned at the top of the story. The longest stretch with no fuel was, according to Google Maps, Coober Pedy to Glendambo at 254km. In fact, it’s more like 275km – which is an extra litre or two of fuel. My R1150GS in theory had a comfortable range of 330km but in fact ran out of juice about 5km short of the next servo. That’s a long push! Maybe we had a headwind that day.

Yes, I was carrying spare fuel, in the form of two 2.5lt plastic containers designed for the purpose and bought through Andy Strapz. They were easily packed into a pannier.

The point is even the best plans fall apart occasionally, whether it’s because the power is out in the next fuel stop, or the servo has shut altogether. Or you just cock up your calculations. Having a little extra on board gives you options.

4. Real maps

In this era of mobile devices, the idea of carrying an actual paper map seems like an anachronism. Here’s the thing: lots of the places we end up travelling through have no mobile network coverage. So if you see an interesting little detour and your mobile has stopped playing ball, having an actual map can be a very handy thing when it comes to making a decision about whether you should explore further.

Plus, the quality of digital mapping is often poor. When in the Northern Territory recently, I quickly found that a 30-year-old road atlas offered far more useful detail than the allegedly up-to-date digital version on the iPad.

Old maps will probably let you down in the city, but out in the sticks they’re still very relevant.

5. Tool time

What about breakdowns? A basic service and check-over before you go should prevent most failures.

I will not carry a giant tool kit. On just about any motorcycle, there are three or four key spanner/hex key sizes that will fit most of the fasteners. I really just want them there in case something vibrates loose.

In addition to that handful, I take a pair of pliers, basic flat- and Phillips-head screwdrivers (one of each), plus a multitool or a pocket knife. That’s it.

If it has a chain, I’m of course loading a can of lube.

For running or emergency repairs, there is also a roll of gaffer tape and a handful of zip ties. You’d be amazed at what you can do with them when those needs-must situations arise.

Also on the list is a decent tubeless tyre puncture repair kit with a mini bicycle hand pump, so I’m not relying on dodgy gas canisters. And that means I’m taking a motorcycle with tubeless tyres, because there is no way I’m sitting there with tubes, patches and tyre irons, swearing at the world in general.

Consider buying a roadside breakdown membership. There are places they can’t reach, or where you can’t reach them, but it’s relatively cheap insurance for a lot of your mileage.

One last consideration: have a think about the bike and what spares might be peculiar to it. This isn’t an issue for a lot of motorcycles. If there is a big breakdown, it’s going home on a truck. However, there are exceptions.

For example, the BMW R1150 series runs an alternator belt at the front of the motor. If it lets go (add that to your list of pre-trip checks) the repair is relatively straightforward. Some basic tools will sort it – so long as you have a spare! I keep one on board.

• Don’t ride from dusk to dawn, and pace yourself
• Carry water and drink regularly to avoid dehydration
• Carry some spare fuel
• Take paper maps as back-up
• Carry a basic toolkit