An oasis in the desert

Judith & Moon
5 min readFeb 28, 2021

Moon and I woke at Marla, in the northern South Australian desert, in the shade of a ghost gum. We’d intended to be on the road before dawn, beating the heat of the day, but after five days riding we were exhausted — and we didn’t wake until after 8am. By the time we’d loaded the bike the sun was high and the temperature heading toward 40 degrees. We only had 400km to cover to reach Alice Springs — the shortest riding day of our trip, so I wasn’t too concerned.

We crossed into the NT and left the Stuart Highway, leaving the bitumen to get closer to the first stony hills, rising from the desert just south of Kulgera (the first and last pub of the territory). These are the first foothills of the mighty MacDonnell Ranges, linking Alice Springs with the Tanami and the western deserts.

The DR650 is running very hot, burning my right leg. I’m not sure why — possibly the 15W50 oil I’ve used. But the combination of the heat from the bike and the rising ambient temperature meant Moon and I stopped more and more frequently to cool down.

Returning to the highway I slowed the bike in a truck stop, but some instinct made me hesitate to put my foot down. Beside the bike, I saw my first desert taipan — curled back in a striking position, obviously freaked out by the barking motorcycle heading his way. As he lunged, I hit the throttle and he grazed the back tyre. He wasn’t hurt though — I saw him in my mirrors sliding back into the sand.

We called in at Kulgera to chat with the owner, a motorcyclist currently without a bike. He lives in the homeland of dirt bikes but dreams of one day owning a Triumph Speedmaster like this…

Between Stuart’s Well and Alice the first flocks of emerald budgerigars manifested from spinifex. On one side of the highway, a flock of thousands lifted, passing seamlessly through another flock from the other side. The algorithms of flocking birds are incredible — how flocks can merge without a single collision. New formations of budgerigars appeared every few kilometres where we passed. Before long the MacDonnell Ranges lifted across the horizon, east to west — purple in the mid afternoon light. And suddenly, for the first time since we left, Moon figured out exactly where we were heading. He craned his neck around to stare at those mountains, turned slowly back toward the budgerigars, then looked forward again at the mountain. As the penny dropped he started barking madly —a total body, joy-filled barking, tail wagging, eyes popping out of his head. In that moment, he knew we were returning to his Country.

Coming into Alice Springs (Mparntwe in Arrernte language) we stopped and called my friend Dira who had offered us sanctuary for a couple of nights while I get the bike fixed. We waited outside the pub until she showed up, looking for all the world like Penelope Pitstop on her hot pink scooter.

A few minutes later and we were unloading the bike at her desert oasis, a cool and beautiful house backing onto rocky hills. Moon made a beeline for the swimming pool, declared war on a garden sprinkler, then rolled in tan bark until he was brown from head to toe. We slept in a bed for the first time in a week. Moon has totally fallen in love with Dira. He jumped into her bed this morning and has been following her around like a lamb all day.

Today I’m charging all the devices and cleaning the air filter on the bike. Tomorrow I’ll go see Vince’s mate at Desert Edge Motorcycles and lose this diabolical Dunlop 606 front tyre (vowing to never again fit a 606 on the front).

Dira has found me a canvas workshop where I can try to get a shade structure built for Moon’s K9 Moto Cockpit. And we’ll need it. The NT is heading into a heat wave that will last the entire week. We’ll be in the mid to high 40s the rest of the time we’re out here, and it may well be hotter as we get closer to Lajamanu.

Tuesday we will leave Alice before sunrise, heading north toward Elliot and the start of the Buchanen Highway. I’m told the track there is totally torn up from the recent floods, so I’m not sure if it’s passable. If not I’m looking at another 1000km to reach Katherine and approach the track to Lajamanu from the North.

We’re taking no shortcuts with our safety though. We’ll have a fully charged Garmin InReach Satellite messenger and locator beacon, 10 litres of water with electrolytes, and hopefully some shade for Moon on the bike. If we get in trouble, I have a canvas tarp on the back that we can use to make a sun shelter while we wait for help.

And, of course, I’ll have a motorcycle that doesn’t scare the bejesus out of me by weaving at high speeds and wobbling over every bump. But in the meantime, Moon and I are appreciating Dira’s kind hospitality in this desert oasis. By the time we go bush on Tuesday, we’ll be recharged and ready for anything.

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Judith & Moon

Judith is poet and visual artist from the Southern Tablelands. Moon is a dingo X camp-dog from the Tanami Desert. We share a DR650 motorcycle.