As I walked into the outside dining area of the café we'd ridden to, I heard a thud. Warren had dropped his bike again — in full view of the café customers across the road. "Mate, you can't keep doing this," I told him. "It's affecting my street cred." To be fair, he hadn't been on a motorbike for forty years when he agreed to join me. And the fully loaded BMW F750 GS he now straddled was a far cry from the 250cc machine he'd last ridden (and crashed). This was the last time he'd drop it… until we reached the creeks and gullies of the Bongle Bongles where we both suffered that embarrassment. Back in 1983, I'd ridden up the east coast of Australia from Sydney, across to Darwin, then down through Alice Springs, Oodnadatta, Adelaide, and back to Sydney — but I'd missed this stretch: the West Coast, the Kimberley, and the Top End to Darwin. A significant birthday ending in zero, the dry season in the Northern Territory when roads would be passable, and a chance to fit in a Lions tour match on the way back…. it was time. We rented bikes from BikeroundOz. Not cheap, but the bikes were perfect: insurance included, breakdown recovery arranged, and just enough reassurance that if things went wrong, we might be rescued from the middle of nowhere before the dingoes moved in. Collecting the bikes in Darwin

SETTING OFF: We collected two gleaming BMW F750 GS. Not new but valet fresh compared to the dirty battered machines they'd become in the coming weeks. Warren eyed his with a mixture of awe and concern. "It's a lot higher than my old 250…". This would become relevant when we got to the "leg over" problem — a challenge involving a loaded bike, a pannier, and riders of a certain age and limited flexibility. Perth to Geraldton was the first leg. Long straight roads provided a great test day including Warren's first road train overtake and reaching the 100 mph mark. Geraldton, our first overnight, was not the most glamorous of stops but lobster rolls and Coopers ale made for a contented, relieved first day. We could do this! First road train overtake — a rite of passage on Australian highways

First road train overtake — a rite of passage on Australian highways

By Denham, we'd settled into the rhythm: long runs, fuel stops as focal points with the odd day off for snorkelling and swimming. "I'm enjoying this holiday," Warren said during one of the kayak/swim days. "Wtf?!" I replied. "This is not a holiday! It's a quest, a mission, a journey! Holidays are for wimps." Carnarvon brought Warren's first Australian roadhouse pie. Coral Bay was all snorkelling, sunsets, and our first campground to test my £20 Amazon tent. I suspected it wouldn't handle rain – it didn't rain through the entire trip. Ningaloo Reef at Exmouth was our last luxury before the bull dust. The reef snorkelling was stunning. The outback does not do understatement

We pointed inland toward Tom Price, then hit 30km of gravel and corrugated bull dust. Our bikes, boots and clothes got their full bull dust baptism. Karijini National Park was a visual feast: gorges, pools, and waterfalls hidden in iron-red rock. We camped at a nighttime temperature of six degrees. Day hikes took us through Weano and Hancock gorges, wading through cool pools to reach amphitheatres of polished stone. Bull dust baptism — the bikes earned their stripes

Bull dust baptism — the bikes earned their stripes

Camping at Karijini — six degrees overnight, worth every shiver

The first proper "fuel maths" conversation happened after Mulga Downs. With stops 300–400km apart, you plan differently: total capacity for 2 bikes including the fuel bladder, max speed to reach the next station. Allow for headwinds? Will the next roadhouse be open? Will it be out of fuel? Could it be a "dry" location? Pardoo Roadhouse introduced us to the Donga – a prefab one-bed self-contained workers' cabin. We'd see a lot more of those. The humble Donga — five-star accommodation by outback standards

The humble Donga — five-star accommodation by outback standards

Roebuck added 444km in heavy crosswinds, coffee on the sand at 80 Mile Beach, and the first live kangaroo sighting. Cable Beach in Broome gave us a sunset swim as the full moon rose over the dunes — and another view: the Staircase to the Moon. From Broome to Fitzroy Crossing and Halls Creek was hot, dry, and occasionally surreal — like discovering our motel restaurant closed at 5pm, or that the whole area was "dry" in the other sense: alcohol prohibited. The tropical north announces itself in unexpected ways

The tropical north announces itself in unexpected ways

To reach the Bungle Bungles in Purnululu National Park on road bikes with road tyres we had to leave all luggage at a roadhouse and let air out of the tyres. It was five hours of off-road: 15 creek crossings, four bike drops, and one "man overboard." The cry behind me didn't sound good but Warren had fallen free of the bike and was just soaked and relieved. Creek crossing in the Bungle Bungles — 15 of these

Creek crossing in the Bungle Bungles — 15 of these

It was the hardest riding I'd ever done. Amazing how the bikes held up and restarted every time when stalled mid-crossing. At the end of the track a chap with a compressor kindly reinflated our tyres. Judging by the length of his beard compared to ours, he'd been on the road a lot longer… The man with the compressor — clearly on a longer journey than ours

The man with the compressor — clearly on a longer journey than ours

Kununurra, Timber Creek, Victoria River Crossing, and Katherine each brought more green, more water, and crocodiles as we moved into the tropical north. Nitmiluk Gorge was paired with kayaking and a Lions match on a campsite big screen. The run into Darwin was smooth — almost too smooth after weeks of planning fuel stops, dodging road trains, and wrestling with loaded bikes. Crocodile country — the locals of the tropical north

Crocodile country — the locals of the tropical north

CLOSING THOUGHTS: Darwin brought the end, but also a reminder: the journey is as important as the destination. From the coast's turquoise waters to the Kimberley's ochre ridges, from cold Karijini nights to hot, dusty roadhouse days, it was the ride I'd been waiting 40 years to complete. Warren came for the adventure and left with creek-crossing credentials. I came to finish an old route, and left knowing we'd done it properly — bull dust, road trains, off-road, fuel maths, dongas, leg-overs and all. 6,089 km — done

TOP TIPS: Never pass an opportunity to fill your tank. Roadhouses can be 300–400km apart. Carry a spare fuel bladder. Book roadhouses a day ahead. Pack for cold nights inland. Dawn and dusk = kangaroo and wallaby time. Be wary.

Still going

Latest Journeys

Bike Round Oz – the bit I didn't do in 1983