Into the great wide open – Introduction

The light at the end of the tunnel is growing brighter – and no, it’s not a train. We’re about to pop out at the end.

After a very busy, full-on year driving a 12-month project with more than 20 primary stakeholders to a very tight schedule, it’s just about finished. In eight working days spread over the next few weeks, I will finish the last of the reporting and tie up the final loose ends. Phew – it’s been massive. It’s been 18 months of work smooshed into 12.

I’m very proud of all that we’ve accomplished. I’ve delivered all project deliverables, plus significant bonus deliverables that were not part of the funding deed, on time and within budget. I’ve herded the cats, managed expectations and done so much liaison between stakeholders that I feel that my job title should have been Chief Liaison Officer instead of Project Manager.

There was only one hiccup along the way. The funding body changed the contribution rates we were supposed to use to keep track of our in-kind time in early July. Those rates meant we would not be able to meet our 25% contribution to the project and would be in breach of contract. I would lose the project… just after I had signed two consultant contracts worth a combined $300,000. I would have to let down my nine local government partners who were quite enthused about the project.

It was very stressful. I was about to lose a $650,000 contract I’d waited nine months to commence. So I spent days and days working through spreadsheets trying to figure out what parts of the project we could cut to reduce the contribution hours required. I tried to think of creative ways to meet requirements. I looked at the project and all the funding pieces in every out-of-the-box way I could think. It was so stressful that, at one point, I did not sleep for 48 hours straight.

I, and my fellow project managers at other regional orgs like mine across the state, continued negatiotations with the funding body. I continued pushing the project forward, hoping that I’d have the project so far along by the time a resolution was found, that they would not be able to pull the pin. Eventually, after two months of negotiations, we came to a compromise with the funding body that would allow the project to continue.

But all that stress… caused me a major relapse in health issues. I started not feeling great in August. I could not eat without pain. My digestion was poor. I had some of the same symptoms I had before the gallbladder came out. I was feeling quite shit by the last post here in September.

Then, at the beginning of October, the pain was so bad in my upper right quadrant that I could not really sit. I could only stand or lay down. I was puking up food daily. Then, after I could not keep any food down for three days straight, I went to Urgent Care, thinking I might have a stone in a bile duct.

Urgent Care sent me to the Emergency Department. I spent the day there high on endone answering work emails. At least I had no pain for the first time in 2.5 months. The abdominal ultrasound and CT scan came back ok. My bloods came back ok. They told me to go back to my GP and get a referral for a gastroscopy. I did. The wait time at the only gastroenterology clinic in town was 8 months. Just for an initial appt – not the actual procedure. I felt I might be dead by then. When I jumped through the hoops of the system last time, my gallbladder was ‘at imminent risk of rupture’ before I got treatment.

So I found a place in Melbourne that took any referral for any doctor and did not require an initial appointment. You could just rock up for a procedure. They could get me in quickly, but I needed to go on a Friday, Sat or Monday to make it as little inconvenience as possible for whatever friend would have to go with me to drive me home (they will not release you to take public transport).

So it was another 3.5 weeks in terrible pain with little nutrition that would stay down before the procedure. I paid for it out-of-pocket, but after all of the Medicare rebates, it came to just $675 for the clinic, doctor, procedure and anaesthetist fees. That is cheaper than the gap fee/deductible that private insurance would have charged ($750), let alone all the yearly premiums. Go figure.

And finally, I have an answer for why digestion has been such a challenge since I contracted the vector-borne diseases in 2017. I have a lax distal sphincter due to low stomach acid (we know I’ve had that issue my whole life – just never an official diagnosis of it). But the gastroenterologist was also 98 percent sure I have moderate to severe gastroparesis. I had done all the appropriate fasting and drank one last 150 ml of water 5 hours before the procedure as instructed. 100mls of that water was still in my stomach after 5 hours. It should have been gone in about 20 minutes!

So the gastro guy says I could get a gastric emptying study done to confirm this, but based on all of my symptoms that matched perfectly with the diagnosis, the water sitting in there long after it should have been gone, and my history of vector- borne illness, he said I could just save my money, go with that diagnosis and treat for it. He gave me a prescription for a scary medication whose side effects included “sudden death” (the drug forces your stomach to contract by working on certain receptors that also happen to be present in your heart) and a prescription for strong digestive enzymes.

So I finally have answers. Now how to fix it without that scary drug. I immediately got in touch with my functional nutritionist. Yes, there are natural herbs that can help with upper motility without ‘sudden death’ side effects. Yes, the gut microbiome plays a role in gastroparesis. Yes, b-vitamins play a role and we know my levels dive-bomb with stress. There is a way forward.

So I’ve been working on all of this since January. I can say that I am vastly improved. I have no pain. My digestion is improving. The gastroparesis is now ‘mild’ instead of ‘moderate-severe’. I have no issues with nausea or puking. As the stress of the project concludes, the gastroparesis should back off even more. High does thiamine may help with the autonomic nervous system issues and nerve signalling that the vector-borne illness screwed up back in 2017.

So all of this means I can go for a bike ride. I will probably have to take about 500 grams of supplements with me, and mail some ahead, but I can eat and drink pretty well and should be able to meet the nutritional demands of a bike tour.

So I started planning a ride that could be done in winter. I quickly settled on a ‘national parks of far west NSW’ tour. That area gets ungodly hot with unspeakable numbers of flies in summer. In winter, the nights will be cold, but I prefer that hands-down (not swatting) to flies and heat.

And then, just as I really got into the planning, an unusual tropical low sunk south out of the tropics and sat over the area and dumped record-breaking rain. This is an area where roads, which are sand and clay, can close with just 5mm of rain. Most roads have causeways instead of bridges.

But roads are slowly reopening…. All those orange roads are now open to 4WDs. The blue ones are still closed. We need all those colours to go away and return to grey. And for the area not to get any more significant rain.

I’m feeling confident it’s do-able. So I’ve been sorting out gear.

I’ve seam-sealed the tent, put UV-guard on the fly. I’ve purchased a sleeping pad so I’ve got more R-value for cold and/or wet nights than just my old closed cell foam pad. I’ve ensured the pad fits in the tent. I’ve bought some more water carrying capacity since the distances between water sources out there is massive. I will put on a new rear tyre today and get the bike serviced after school holidays finish. I’ve cleaned the water filter. I’ll order a new powerbank soon since winter’s short days make solar power a bit too hard.

Yes, it’s all coming together. I think this trip requires a lot of logistical consideration in the background but extreme flexibility as the days unfold. But I’m ready for it – the call of the road is always screaming at me in the back of my head. It is time to venture forth into the great unknown in those great wide open spaces of the west.

The national parks I’m wanting to tick off my bucket list include:

Mungo National Park

Kinchega National Park

Mutawindji National Park

Sturt National Park

Gundabooka National Park

Mt Grenfell Historic Site

The two that I’ve really been hanging out to see are Mungo and Mutawindji… but if you are already way the heck out there, why not go even further and check out the rest?

This map shows a potential route. I know it won’t end up like this, as I will have to go with the flow and determine do-ability based on local knowledge as we go. But here’s an idea at least:

When do we go?

Sometime in May.

Nigel and I are booked in to go for a rally car drive/ride (he’ll do some driving, I’m just signed up for a professional to fling me around on 4 hot laps) on 9 May near Sydney. But who knows if that will go ahead if fuel becomes more scarce and expensive than it already is.

I also need to pack up and clean my house. Lease ends 23 May but I plan to be gone before then.

When do we finish?

I’m meant to fly to America in early August (again, if jet fuel is a thing by then). So we need to be back by then.

I’m in America til late August. The plan upon my return home is to jump straight back on the bike and ride to Brisbane for a Jim Henson/Muppet exhibition. Then I will start making my way back south along the Great Dividing Range and hitting up more national parks on the way.

But that’s the outline of a plan. There might be a short shakedown ride around 23-26 April to figure out water bladder attachment points on the bike. There might not. We’re going super-flexo on this tour.

But the sky’s the limit. It’s time to head into the great wide open.