Motoring in Cape York
By Mark Hinchliffe · 05 Jun 2007
Where else could you be eaten, bitten and stung to death?Where else is the beauty so rugged and the road conditions so erratic that just getting there is a challenge?For most people, the journey to the tip of Cape York – call it Cape Fear, if you like – starts in Cairns.Here there is a multitude of tour companies that operate 4WD, bus and motorcycle tours with hire vehicles or escorting people with their own vehicles.Winter is the time to go. It's the dry season. Temperatures are around 30, the humidity is low and there is little chance of storms eroding the roads and cutting you off.Tours can range from a couple of days into the Daintree, Lakefield and Cape Melville national parks to a couple of weeks all the way to the tip and back again. Or you can organise your own route and hire a vehicle or drive your own.There are plenty of things to do and see in the cape; hiking, fishing, 4WD driving, sightseeing, swimming, eating, bird watching, hunting and more. It's like one big frontier fun park.Like Cairns, the whole of Cape York seems to be geared to the tourist trade with plenty of accommodation, information and points of interest well signposted.But that doesn't mean it's a whole lot hospitable. Be warned that your very life is under threat from animals, insects, plants, reptiles, the weather, even people.Yet I recently travelled about 1000km over three days from Cairns halfway to Cape York and back on a motorcycle launch and it was enough to addict me to the region and make me yearn for the full Cape York adventure.Our tour group was escorted by Stay Upright Motorcycle Adventure Tours, one of the many tourist operations based in Cairns.Managing director Warwick Schuberg said the company, which also runs adventures across the Simpson Desert, was having a break from tours this year to concentrate on their motorcycle training school.As most tours out of Cairns do, this one starts with the breathtaking Captain Cook Highway that hugs the coast north to Port Douglas. It's better than the famed Great Ocean Rd but with the same amount of traffic.It is difficult to concentrate on the winding road ahead when there are such spectacular coastline views to be offered around every bend and the rugged beach is just metres to your right.However, concentration is a must.Our tour leader, Jason Poznic, warns time and time again that you must pay attention as the many international tourists in hire cars are used to driving on the right-hand side of the road and often cross over.Consequently, there are directional arrows painted on the road every few hundred metres.Head-ons are a constant concern, not just on the coast road, but throughout the Cape region, Jason warns.And it's not just tourists driving on the wrong side of the road. Locals tend to become blase about the lack of traffic and wander across.It is also evident the drink driving regulations tend to be flouted quite liberally in the north. This is pioneering country and some of the locals treat it like the wild west.Beyond Mossman, we take the ferry across the Daintree River into the Daintree National Park where Jason adds another warning."Don't reach out and touch the vines that hang down. The Aborigines call them 'wait a minute' vines because they will hook into you and it will take a minute to get them off you," he says.He also warns that the narrow, windy tarmac road almost always has patches of slippery moss, leaves and moisture.Along the way there are also ice-cream shops, forest walks, hiking areas and beautiful beaches to visit.Our first stop is PK's Jungle Village, a backpacker haven at Cape Tribulation set by an idyllic tropical beach and the last outpost before the road turns to dirt.From here on, you will need a four-wheel drive, although some foolhardy people do attempt to go further in less capable vehicles, only to need winching out of the many creek crossings, bog holes and steep ascents on the road ahead.Avoid summer when torrential rains can turn the whole area into a nightmare even for those vehicles with ridgey didge off-road capabilities.Some of the hills are so steep that in World War II concrete paths were built in some areas resembling driveways with left and right wheel tracks. These have crumbled over the years and can also be a trap for the unwary.Here Jason adds another warning about washouts from recent rain, despite the fact that the track is so dry we are riding in a constant dust cloud.I pay too little attention to his cautionary tale of washouts and ride into a dust cloud and a washed-out section of road.Luckily I bounce through the other side on the big Buell adventure bike. One other member of our party isn't so lucky on the same washout. He injures his ribs, his elbow and breaks off the gear shift lever.We repair the shift lever at the Lions Den Hotel at Lorna Doone where the interior is a cool and inviting collection of lost number plates, international currency, scary-looking snakes and spiders in bottles, and other collected items.As the others arrive, one of them hands me my bike's number plate which had shaken free some kilometres back. Others have had their rego labels shaken off. This really is rugged country.We stop for photos at the bridge across the "crocodile-infested" Bloomfield River to the Wujal Wujal Aboriginal community and Jason warns us to "never leave our bikes".He doesn't explain why. Crocodiles, wayward residents? We simply take his advice and press on.The last 30km into Cooktown is tarmac and in very good condition, but Jason warns us of kangaroos and enormous brahmin cattle on the unfenced road.Cooktown is a scenic small town by the mouth of the Endeavour River, nestled in behind Grassy Hill that provides a 360-degree view of the rugged coastline, town and hinterland.It may be small, but there are a few hotels, motels and the upmarket Sovereign Resort catering for the many tourists who use this as a stepping-off point for marine and land tours.The highway southwest out of Cooktown is awash with the blood of roadkill; roos, wallabies, cows mainly, their carcasses bloated and pungent at the side of the road, some fresh ones still in the middle of the highway.There seem to be valid reasons for names such as Dead Horse Creek and Dead Dog Creek up this way.At Lakeland, we get our last premium fuel and head northwest along Peninsula Developmental Rd where the name says it all. The tar quickly gives way to sand, gravel, sand, more gravel, dust, dust and more dust.An airconditioned 4WD would be a joy. On the bike, we are choking on the talcum powder consistency of the dust. For days afterwards we are still oozing tears with dust particles, our eyes sore and red.Except for a couple of creek crossings passable only in the dry months, the road is gun-barrel straight.But it's never boring.The scenery flashing by is constantly changing, the colours of the road swapping from white sand to rich ochre gravel and rusted red soil.And with the consistency of the road ever-changing you have to concentrate so much that you never get a chance to be bored, especially on a bike.Adventure bike riders will have to pay strict attention to the road conditions which can quickly change to loose and deep gravel or the rider's biggest dread, sand. Also, watch out for rock-hard termite nests if you are pulling off the road.Drivers can also get into trouble in the slippery conditions. Then there are always the creek crossings which can change so quickly with even the slightest shower of rain.But it's the dust that gets everyone.As a roadtrain passes by, you suddenly become engulfed in a total white-out.It is advisable to slow down as you see them approach, but don't stop or someone could run into your rear.The Buell's bright LED taillight is a saviour in these conditions.Every few kilometres there is a stretch of tarmac so drivers can pass the roadtrains as that is impossible when they are on the dirt sections.At Musgrave Roadhouse, site of the first telegraph line, we divert from the road heading north to the cape.Our destination is Lotusbird Lodge, just outside the beautiful Lakefeld National Park.The lodge ("an oasis of comfort in the outback") is a series of upmarket wood cabins assembled around a hyacinth-flowered swamp."You mean the lagoon," lodge operator Sue Brown corrects me.We settle in for a cuppa with scones overlooking the picturesque lagoon and its plentiful birdlife as Sue and partner Gary Connors regale us with horror tales of monstrous estuarine crocodiles (affectionately known as salties), deadly taipans, king browns and yellow-bellied black snakes and all manner of nasty spiders.We didn't need Jason's warnings about reptiles big and small. In a short ride from the lodge we saw track evidence of crocs and plenty of snakes on the road.Sue and Gary have refurbished the lodge after Cyclone Larry put it two metres under water last year, so everything is fresh and new.And the grub is up to hearty outback standards. Roast and 11 veg, in fact. And no sooner is it served than Gary comes around with seconds.As the dinner is going down and the aching muscles from the day's long ride are becoming numb in the liquid hospitality, Gary adds his own brand of humourous bush poetry.We are halfway to the tip of Cape York. Still another 500km to go, yet still tantalisingly close.Next day we return to Cairns along some spectacular roads, both tar and dirt, with gob-smacking views as you drop off the tableland to the coast.And on return to Cairns there is a nagging feeling that the great adventure was only just beginning.Unfinished business for another year.