Journey Updates

18 Jul 2006

- Some Reflections On My Bicycle Journey To ULURU

4 MAY TO 5 JUNE, 2006

I had intended cycling to Uluru in April of 2005. Instead, I found myself at the Nepean Cancer Care Centre going through my fourth and fifth cycles of CHOP chemotherapy, part of my treatment for Non Hodgkins Lymphoma. When I had recovered my energies sufficiently to put this ride back on the agenda, I thought that it would prove to be the most significant ride I had undertaken, and I had undertaken some significant rides, including a ride of over 12,000 kilometres from Dublin to Jerusalem. This certainly proved to be the case. The factor that has differentiated this ride from all the others is that it was undertaken as a cancer patient. This ride was unfinished business. I wanted to do this ride because I believed it possible.

Being the first longish ride I had undertaken since my diagnosis, I was a little apprehensive, even though I had trained vigorously and consistently. When I had easily negotiated the climbs to Lithgow I felt confident; after all the significant hills were behind me. The testing times, however, lay ahead of me. I was to discover that Outback Australia is an extraordinary place to cycle. While going through there my thoughts and emotions swung wildly. The unrelenting vastness of the place, could sometimes be very intimidating, especially when there were stretches of more than 250 kilometres between places where I could obtain drinking water. Cycling into strong headwinds and seeing a seemingly unchanging horizon for days, tested the discipline. At other times though, particularly at dusk, a time when the wind often abated, I sat down at my campsite in the dirt and leisurely watched the sun setting. The sunsets were stunning and the Outback softened when the elements calmed, it became welcoming, subtle and inspiring, rather than intimidating. The sunsets somehow seem more vivid since my diagnosis of cancer. I guess even cancer has something to offer, when I look closely enough.

Unlike my experiences of cycling through Europe, the Outback’s main offering was solitude. I mainly spent my evenings camped by the roadside. When human contact came, I relished it. The meetings stand out in my mind: the joy and feeling of camaraderie when I encountered a south bound, long distance cyclist at Glandambo in South Australia, after I had cycled almost 2,000 kilometres; having coffee with the driver of a road train at Cadney Park Roadhouse, near the Northern Territory border (I had been cautioned that road trains drivers would be aggressive, in fact I found them very considerate and courteous); conversations throughout an afternoon with Indigenous people in Wilcannia (I had been cautioned not to stop at Wilcannia if I valued life and limb).

The Outback was an extremely varied experience. Having cycled into the heart of this vast continent, I think that I now know something of its essence; it is fickle. At times it was welcoming and majestic, sometimes it was threatening and punishing. Always it was engaging. I had mixed feelings on reaching Uluru, it was good to achieve what I had planned to do before the advent of cancer, but had I the time I would have pointed my bicycle westward and headed to Western Australia via the Docker River. Uluru was a great journey to undertake and it convinced me to take on others.

Obviously, I never desired to have cancer, but it is now a fact of life and there is a lot of satisfaction in undertaking such activities as a cancer patient. On the journey to Uluru, people often remarked that they wished that they were as fit and well as me. It led to interesting conversations when I informed them that I was in fact very seriously ill.

On the journey to Uluru I had plenty of time to think. I had decided, prior to my cancer, to undertake a traverse of the Appalachian Mountains in the USA. I still intend to pursue this goal. It’s a long way to trek from Maine to Georgia, but I like to set the bar high. But, enough of me, none of this would be even ponderable without the ongoing efforts of the Cancer Care Centre staff. They, too, set the bar high as they apply their skill and knowledge for the benefit of cancer patients such as myself.

Mel Macarthur.
July, 2006.

13 Jul 2006

- Commentator David Price reports:

Interview between Mel Macarthur and some interesting characters on his return from his pilgrimage to Uluru

Unbeknown to many, Mel had a travelling companion on his journey to Uluru, namely Terry Tortoise, who like all tortoises, was well mannered, polite and companionable.

At Mel’s first service he conducted at Hazelbrook Uniting Church, after his return, he was interviewed by Terry Tortoise and three of his friends, Albert Pudding, Brer Rabbit and the Lion of Judah.

Each of these asked Mel a question, which Mel reflected upon and then thanked them for their questions. Perhaps the most penetrating question was asked by Brer Rabbit, who wanted to know if it was possible to go on a pilgrimage without leaving home.

Mel answered that this was where any pilgrimage begins, because the essence of any pilgrimage is to reflect on life and the direction you are taking in living life.
For those who cannot leave their home, for whatever reason, they can journey in their heart, their mind and their soul, meditating on the truth that all Christians are pilgrims in an alien land.

The destination is irrelevant; it is the journey, the depth of reflection, the appreciation of what is important, that is the essence of pilgrimage.

Mel has extended Terry Tortoise an open invitation to join him in any further pilgrimage.

28 May 2006

- Coober Pedy

"I arrived at Coober Pedy yesterday thanks to a helpful tailwind.
It was about time as I'd been beating into a ferocious headwind for the previous two days.
I'm having a rest day here today and playing tourist with a bus tour of the town and mines. I strike out towards the N.T. border tomorrow.
Still feeling fit and well.
Mel"

23 May 2006

- Across the border

Mel crossed the border to South Australia at Cockburn on May 18th, 2 days ahead of planned.

He had a one night maintenance and rest stop at Broken Hill.

2 nights previously he stopped for a night at Wilcannia, where he was able to discuss in-depth issues with the towns Newspaper and residents. After hearing numerous horror stories about apparent hazards of Wilcannia, Mel found no substance to any of the fears, and in fact found the town to be very welcoming and hospitable.

A week earlier he had stayed 2 nights at Cobar. Up to that point he'd stayed mostly with friends and colleagues, and was preparing to spend much of the rest of the trip camping out under the stars.