Into the Heart of the Nullarbor
Daily miles 20.15 | Total Miles 8339.04
My alarm rang at 6:00 am, but I snoozed until 6:30, listening to the wind howl outside the tent. I knew taking the tent down in this much wind would be a challenge — sand flying everywhere — but there was no way around it. My throat was still dry, my nose slightly clogged, but I felt clearer in my head than yesterday.
I started packing inside the tent to keep as much sand out of my gear as possible, then stepped out into a beautiful but chilly morning. Was it really cold, or was it just me feeling under the weather? Either way, I layered up, loaded the buggy, and by 7:30 am I was ready to run.
I started with three layers, but quickly began shedding them one by one. The wind was coming from the north and kept knocking my legs around, and every time a road train approached, I went through my little ritual: wave, hold my cap, duck my head, and almost come to a stop as the truck’s turbulence rolled past me. It felt like diving into invisible waves.
About 10 miles in, the trees grew sparse, and there it was — the sign marking the eastern end of the Nullarbor. Wow. Seeing that sign sent a shiver down my spine. The wind whipped dust across the road as I stood there, toothbrush in hand (finally brushing my teeth, which I had skipped earlier because it was too cold!). I felt proud, nervous, excited — all at once. I am really out here, crossing the Nullarbor Plain, all by myself.
The road offered no shoulder, so I was constantly glancing back for trucks, stepping off onto the rough gravel verge whenever one came. It’s a game of awareness, patience, and persistence — and it’s doable. After all, this is a once-in-a-lifetime journey.
When I finally reached the Nullarbor Roadhouse, I was greeted by the most unexpected sight — a group of cyclists with a cameraman. The “Ride for Life” ladies ride a tandem for four (yes, four!) all the way from Perth to Sydney. They waved, I waved back, and suddenly I was surrounded by warmth, conversation, and smiles.
They invited me to lunch, and I was treated to an incredible plant-based buffet — fresh salads, hearty dishes, all prepared by their traveling cook. The food was delicious, but the kindness was even more nourishing. They gave me electrolytes, energy bars, and a massive dose of encouragement for the road ahead.
After checking into my room, I still wanted to visit the whale lookout I’d passed that morning. I asked around for a ride — a bit nervously, because sometimes it feels like I’m bothering people — but persistence paid off. Sue and Malcolm kindly agreed to take me, and when we arrived, Sonja and Michael even offered to cover my entrance fee.
And then I saw them.
About 7 southern right whale mothers with their calves floated in the turquoise water below the cliffs, the sun glistening off their backs. I stood there on the boardwalk, taking it all in — the ocean, the whales, the vastness of this place — and my heart felt so full I could have cried. It was one of those rare, magical moments that you just know will stay with you forever.
Sue and Malcolm drove me back to the roadhouse, and I spent the evening preparing for what’s next: three long days to the next stop at Border Village, just before the Western Australia border. Thanks to the Ride for Life ladies, I now have plenty of energy bars and electrolytes packed.
Tonight’s dinner is leftover salad with eggs, and I feel both tired and deeply grateful. This journey is full of challenges, but also full of the most unexpected gifts — kindness, connection, and moments of pure wonder.
Tomorrow, the road continues. One step at a time.
(P.S. I also got to see the small planes parked nearby — and everyone who knows me knows that one of my dreams is to one day fly an airplane. Gotta keep dreaming big.)