Please, grab some peanuts, seeds, popcorn, and some bickies… brew yourself a coffee or a cuppa, and join me on an epic cycling marathon across Australia. 

G’day everyone, warm greetings to you all from Croatia!

To date, I have cycled across the Australian continent four times in different directions. The most recent time was on April 15th, when I set off from Perth to complete the TransOz brevet.

My name is Siniša Babić. I am an ultra-marathon cyclist from Croatia and a massive lover of Australia, its nature, and its people. Over the years, I have realised that if I want to truly get to know the land I am passing through, I need to travel on foot, on horseback, or by bike. This way, I can stay in touch with the natural environment and wildlife, yarn with the locals, and feel every bit of the local weather.

I found out about the TransOz brevet while browsing the Audax Australia website and, with great passion, I decided to ride that route. I am very proud to have finished it, but there were several critical and hairy moments due to heavy traffic on the roads of the designated route or due to poor road maintenance (!?). I’ll go through this in chronological order.

I would like to thank all the members of Audax Australia who contacted me in the days leading up to the ride and during the TransOz itself. A special thanks goes to Mr. Andrew Johnson, who followed me via SpotWalla and later handled the homologation of my ride with the ACP.

So, TransOz…

I planned to finish the brevet in sixteen days, averaging 250 km per day. At that pace, I shouldn’t have gotten too buggered and could plan to sleep, in most cases, indoors. Due to the cooler temps during April and May, sleeping rough isn’t ideal, and there are more rainy days compared to March.

I started, by the book, at 5:45 AM at the South Mole Lighthouse, Fremantle. The ride through the suburbs led along local streets and the excellent cycle path along the Roe Hwy. 

My Wilier Triestina aka Red Devil, few minutes before his second journey accross Austalia

I experienced a very dangerous situation just after entering the Great Eastern Hwy. Tuesday, a working day, 8:00 AM—peak hour. A huge number of vehicles were travelling towards or away from Perth. After the junction of Scott St and Great Eastern Hwy, I had to tackle the climb towards Mundaring. At that moment, I was slow and a bit harder for trucks to spot, as they were arriving at high speed from the west due to the bends at Greenmount. One road train roared past within thirty centimeters of me with its air horn blasting. I cannot say the driver wanted to hurt me, but rather that he couldn’t see me in time, and I had nowhere to go. On that part of the road, there is no shoulder, only a high concrete kerb. A bit of a shoulder only appears after the junction with Lionel Rd. Perhaps the TransOz route could be diverted to the streets parallel to the Great Eastern Hwy on its south side, directing cyclists back to the highway via Hardey Rd. Perhaps…

Until the end of the day, I enjoyed the ride to Merredin, where I stayed overnight in a motel. During the day, the weather was sunny and warm enough. I knew in advance that the wind would hinder fast progress, but I didn’t let it worry me. Day one: 282 km.

The plan for the next day was to reach Coolgardie. Conditions were similar to the previous day, only the portion of headwind was more abundant. By the end of the day, I’d gathered a few more k’s—a total of 299—as I wandered a bit in Coolgardie looking for the motel.

Thursday in Coolgardie dawned rainy. I knew it would be so because the forecasts predicted the same. After a good Aussie brekkie, I set off into the rainy landscape. It was relatively warm, and the wind didn’t bother me too much. Traffic on the Coolgardie-Esperance Hwy was light. The rare vehicles that overtook me gave me a decent gap and didn’t drench me with water from the bitumen.

By Widgiemooltha, the rain eased off. I didn’t have to push that day as I planned to stop and sleep in Norseman. I took a short break at the servo and continued towards Norseman. It was the last working day before the Easter long weekend, and plenty of people were on their travels. I found a bed on the second attempt. Fun fact: in the last three years, I have spent two Easters on Australian roads. In 2023, I spent the night between Thursday and Good Friday on Tooma Rd in Kosciuszko NP.

The Eyre Hwy welcomed me with damp bitumen and a wind that occasionally helped. The plan was to ride the next 530 km without sleeping. I had rested enough! 😊😊😊 Such a sequence of events was planned from my experience of a previous passage along the Eyre. From Norseman heading east for 190 km, there are no supply options. After Balladonia Hotel, the distance to Caiguna Roadhouse is 180 km. I didn’t want to ride less than 250 km a day if I didn’t have to. Therefore, I was willing to ride 36 to 40 hours straight to cover the desired distances.

Try to imagine my surprise when, 2.5 hours after leaving Norseman in the wild wilderness along the Eyre Hwy, I caught up with a pedestrian pushing a pram heading east. It was Bruce Bolger, aka lostdigger. He introduced himself as a former soldier on a charity walk to raise funds for his mates. In the pram, he was carrying groceries, a tent, a sleeping bag, and gear for a long-distance walk. Regarding the route, we were doing something similar, connecting Perth (WA) to the famous Bondi Beach in Sydney (NSW). He on foot, and I on a bike. He won my sympathy immediately, and I continued to follow his progress. He finished his journey on July 12th. 

 Bruce Bolger

Pleasant surprises and a few nasty ones marked Thursday and Friday. It was pitch black when I arrived at the 90 Mile Straight (West End). A road train was parked at a lay-by. While I tried to film the famous traffic sign in the dark, a barrage of “protest” words flew from the dark cabin regarding my appearance on the road, seasoned with several “f.ck” conjunctions. Something like… cyclists are a problem on the roads, he could lose his job because of cyclists, and so on. I wished him a Happy Easter, to which he replied with another “f.uck you.”

It took me 6.5 hours to reach Caiguna Roadhouse, with several breaks. I had plenty of time until dawn and the opening of the restaurant, so I rigged up a spot for a nap using a few plastic chairs. I wasn’t the only traveller that morning waiting for supplies. There I met Louise and Matt from Melbourne. They were travelling east towards home and were stoked to hear who I was and where I was going. Over the next few days, I’d come across their messages of encouragement directed at me, which they had drawn on the road and at rest stops. All in all, they delighted me, and I felt particularly good. 

Louise and Matt an…

…their painting on Madura Pass Lookout

 Bloody beautiful… it’s enough to make a grown man cry

The goal of the fifth day was the Madura Pass Oasis Motel. Between Cocklebiddy and Madura Pass, I caught up with another cyclist, young Quentin, a Frenchman riding from Perth to Melbourne. To reach his goal more easily, he intended to use the Lucky Bay – Wallaroo ferry. All in all, I expected more rain at this time of year. Until Sydney, there was no more rain just heavy morning dews. 

 Quentin at Madura Pass Oasis Motel  Jess and Winnie

I remember the sixth day for a rather unpleasant wind. It had been blowing hard for several days, so four French cyclists heading west were waiting at Mundrabilla Roadhouse for it to drop. On that part of the Eyre Hwy, bicycle traffic became “heavy” 😉 because I met eight cyclists in four days. 

 Peggy, David, Remmy and Noe play cards while waiting for the wind to calm down 

 Donald, Australian rider who was travelled west

After an overnight stay in Border Village, I pulled an all-nighter to join the seventh and eighth days. I don’t know if it was due to autumn temperatures, but I encountered very little wildlife. It would later turn out that even by the end of the ride in Sydney, the wildlife was sparse. Back in 2023 on the Nullarbor, roos, emus, and dingos were everywhere. This time, nothing. Only during the night ride towards Yalata did one kangaroo jump diagonally across my path, and one wombat nearly ended up under my wheels. 

The ninth morning in Ceduna dawned with a crystal-clear sky and a refreshing temperature. By the end of the day, I pushed the bike to Wudinna, passing through several small towns marked by those iconic grain silos. 

 In Ceduna… I would like to see some of this giants mammals 

 Funny…

 Next time I’ll ride to Coober Pedy 

 Patrick, Irishman with a bicycle and a guitar

On the tenth day, I continued east, and my plan was to leave the official trail and reach Whyalla. I had to visit a service shop, replace the chain, and have a coffee with Mr. Steve Mikic, an Aussie cyclist with Croatian roots I’d met on social media. I told Andrew Johnson that, per ACP rules, I would leave the track at Iron Knob and return at the same spot. He later messaged me saying I could go from Whyalla towards Port Augusta via the Lincoln Hwy, which was great, another Aussie road to explore! 

 Kimba, Silo Art

I had the bike serviced at U-Pedal Cycles. Steve told me the owner, Mr. Wesley Fisher, would wait for me after hours, adding that Wesley claimed to know me personally (?!). How? I had never been to Whyalla. I arrived at dusk, navigating with Google Maps. There, I met Steve, and when I looked at Wesley, I immediately remembered him—he was part of a “dot watcher” group that greeted me on the Eyre Hwy in 2023 during the Indian Pacific Wheel Ride. It’s a small world! 😊

 Wesley Fisher – bicycle repair wizard from Whyalla

The next morning was ANZAC Day. Steve gave me a quick cycling tour of Whyalla before escorting me partway along the Lincoln Hwy. 

 Steve Mikic and Me, at that moment we didn’t think we would meet again that day

One of the big risks was the huge number of cars pulling wide caravans. I’d hit the week between Easter and ANZAC Day when everyone was out camping. Aussies are polite drivers in town, but on the highways, some get impatient and reckless.

The Lincoln Hwy near Port Augusta has a poor, narrow shoulder or none at all. You have to ride in the traffic lane, and when vehicles are in a queue, reckless drivers cannot see you. A few k’s before the Eyre Hwy, a car hit me. A young driver in a wide SUV was too close to the edge and clipped me under my right shoulder with his left-wing mirror, throwing me off the road.

Thanks to my physical prep, I didn’t break anything. I earned a few scratches and bruised my lower back. The bike, however, was out of action. The driver stopped, as did the car behind me; a passenger from that car gave me first aid until the ambulance arrived. The police conducted an investigation, and I was taken to Port Augusta Hospital. Steve Mikic later took me back to Whyalla, and Wesley Fisher fixed the bike so I could continue.

The next day, Saturday, April 26th, I pushed on. The back pain didn’t stop me from pedaling. To make up for lost time, I decided to ride in one piece: day-night-day.

I rode to Port Augusta with a tailwind, but on the Princes Hwy, it was a repeat of the day before. With a strong SE wind hitting me from the side, I had to dodge countless trucks and buses. I was forced off onto the rough shoulder several times to avoid the heavy rigs.

Once I hit Horrocks Pass Rd, everything changed. The heavy traffic vanished, drivers were considerate, the seal road was better, and the wind stopped fighting me. Late that night near Gulnare, I turned onto the Goyder Hwy, and my “real” adventure began. I love “collecting” new routes, and from that intersection to Bondi, I’d be riding through parts of Australia I’d never seen before. Yes, I’d touch some points in Lithgow, Richmond, and Sydney because I’d ridden there before, but everything else was “for the first time.”

While passing through Burra in the dead of night, I found a shelter and napped until the cold forced me to move. I only had a thin bivy bag, and it was now the Australian autumn the ground is no longer warm enough for summer gear. By morning, I was in the Murray River valley and rode to Renmark for a hotel.

After pulling a “double” on days twelve and thirteen, I did the same for fourteen and fifteen to make up for the accident. Because of my bruised back, I couldn’t sneeze, blow my nose or cough without pain, so I started “exercising” while riding. To sneeze, you must contract your core; mine was too sore. I practiced slow exhales to push past the threshold of pain. It took three days before I could even blow my nose properly! However, only up to the right shoulder.😉

I learned this lesson in Australia back in 2019 near Ravenswood (QLD) when I hit a wallaby first, seal road the second and dislocated my left shoulder. I popped it back in, but by the time I finished the Race to The Rock and rode from Uluru to Perth, my left arm had wasted away. It took a year to get it back to full functionality.

An hour out of Renmark, I entered Victoria, whose roads proved the most cyclist friendly. The Sturt Hwy had a perfect paved, half meter wide, shoulder all the way. Crossing into New South Wales after Mildura, the road quality dropped again. I finished day fifteen in Hay. 

 Murray River, Renmark 

 Now this is a decent bit of shoulder for roadies

From Hay, I reached West Wyalong on day sixteen, about 260 km on the Mid Western Hwy. I saw several mobs of emus; one lot even “raced” me along the fence for a couple of kilometers. It was a perfect day for spinning. Drivers were mostly great, except for one road train that buzzed me unnecessarily close. I’ll never understand why someone with hundreds of horsepower feels the need to bully someone with none. 

 Roos are rare 

 Cowra

From West Wyalong, I took quiet local roads, Quandialla Rd, Bimbi-Quandialla Rd and Mary Gilmore Way through 100 km of farmland. In Grenfell, I rejoined the Mid Western Hwy and headed through colorful Cowra to Blayney. I was so hungry I ordered two pizzas, one for dinner, one for a pre-dawn breakfast. As it turned out, I could have survived on just one!

The final morning was a crisp 5°C. 😉 I finished the Mid Western Hwy into Bathurst, then headed toward Lithgow. After the cycle path ended, I was back on the Great Western Hwy. The shoulder was covered in debris and “bleeding” bitumen, a detail future TransOz riders should note. 

 Expect the unexpected… this is the kind of stuff you hit on a long ride  

I’d ridden from Richmond to Lithgow via Mt Tomah in 2018, so this time I chose the route from Lithgow to Richmond through Hartley Vale. The wild forest and cliffs along that narrow road were stunning. At Mount Victoria, I was back on the highway for a 60 km descent. It was a rush, but I had to stay sharp for obstacles on the shoulder. Near Springwood, I exited the highway and headed towards Richmond, refreshing my memories while riding. 

 On the exit from Hartley Vale

The last 80 km to Bondi was flat but slow going through the afternoon rush hour. From Marsden Park, I hit a nice cycle path, but with so many traffic lights, I must have stopped 40 times! But I wasn’t in a hurry. I soaked in the sights and smells of Sydney’s streets and plenty of restaurants.

At Bondi Beach, I was met by my mate Nejc Zalar. He and his family have hosted me twice now at the end of my long Aussie treks.

 Me and Neic on the finnish line, Bondi Beach 

 Sydney by night

Looking back… despite the hiccups, I’m satisfied with the achievement.The car accident blew my trip out by a day. Instead of the sixteen days I’d planned, I finished the brevet in seventeen and a half days. 

Me and Eric Frei in Rockingham (WA), the day before I started pushing east

A massive thank you to Nenad Peisker, Karen Shilkin, Steve Mikic, Ryan Sutherland, Nejc and Janja Zalar, and their families for their incredible hospitality and for welcoming me into their homes. 

 Karen, Nenad and me at the WA Athletics Stadium, Perth two days before start

A special shoutout to Wesley Fisher for looking after my bike as if it were his own. Other cyclists will get it, it doesn’t matter how I am or how I’m feeling, as long as the bike is in top shape! 😉

I am grateful to everyone who lent a hand or helped me out in any way to get the TransOz across the line. And thanks to all of you on social media for the likes, kudos, and words of support. Everything was heaps easier with your help.

Cheers!  

Thank you for your time and attention,

Siniša