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Budd Stanley photos
Attacking the Trails of Sandy Cape, Australia
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Budd Stanley photos
Attacking the Trails of Sandy Cape, Australia
Sand was a new and intimidating surface for me. Conquering your fears is an addiction that proved fruitful in Sandy Cape.
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Budd Stanley photos
Attacking the Trails of Sandy Cape, Australia
Pizza cutter tires on a heavy vehicle is not the best kit for deep sand. But the Landcruiser surprised me with its abilities to endure.
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Budd Stanley photos
Attacking the Trails of Sandy Cape, Australia
North Head looking over to the dunes of Sandy Cape.
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Budd Stanley photos
Attacking the Trails of Sandy Cape, Australia
This is the reason Aussies don’t wear shoes in the wilderness.
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Budd Stanley photos
Attacking the Trails of Sandy Cape, Australia
I would always stop on a crest to scout what was ahead. Easier to back out than get stuck on the wrong side of a hill.
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Budd Stanley photos
Attacking the Trails of Sandy Cape, Australia
Abandoned bunkers on North Head.
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Budd Stanley photos
Attacking the Trails of Sandy Cape, Australia
The Robert Murray Bartle memorial atop North Head.
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Budd Stanley photos
Attacking the Trails of Sandy Cape, Australia
The Britz Challenger proved the best of both worlds, excellent camper and world-class 4WD.
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Budd Stanley photos
Attacking the Trails of Sandy Cape, Australia
I would always stop on a crest to scout what was ahead. Easier to back out than get stuck on the wrong side of a hill.
Story & photos by Budd Stanley
Coming to terms with deep sand and the heat of Australia
Now I know why the Aussies never wear shoes. At first, I really couldn’t understand it; even those with the most hardcore 4WD’s head out into the wilderness with nothing more than a pair of sandals on their feet, if that even. Most go barefoot. I just can’t drive unless I’m wearing running shoes, or at least a snug pair of hikers. However, as I clamber my way up a sand dune in search of a safe route for my Landcruiser and I, my shoes quickly fill with sand to the point it becomes painful to take a single step. My learning curve for driving in the dunes of Australia was steep not just in terms of driving skill, but even how to dress.
If you missed last month's issue, I found myself in Western Australia at the wheel of a Britz Toyota Landcruiser “Challenger” camper conversion. It’s a modern day 70-series Landcruiser motivated by a twin turbo V-8 diesel, pop-up top with double bed and fully supplied kitchen designed to be self sufficient in the Outback for several days. In other words, the best camper for getting out and exploring the real Australia.
After the first night camping in the Challenger, I awoke fresh from a good nights sleep in the pop-up, rocked to sleep by a gentle wind and the sound of the Indian Ocean lapping the sands only 100-metres away. With a quick fry-up to get some breakfast in me, I gave the slide-out kitchen a wipe down, slid it back into its cubby, locked down the roof, cargo and prepared to attack the local trails of Sandy Cape.
Sandy Cape is a recreation reserve located three hours up the coast from Perth, Western Australia. It’s proximity to Perth and the vast network of trails makes it a favourite location for the local 4WD clubs, and for tourists flying into Australia’s largest (and only) western city, it makes a great adventure destination for those who may not have weeks to explore this vast and wondrous country. There are a myriad of parks and epic tracks one can choose in Western Australia (the Canning Stock Route is a bucket list adventure), but coming from a cold Canadian winter and arriving during the final heat waves of Australia’s late summer, I chose the cooler climate of the ocean-side parklands of Sandy Cape.
Now, they don’t call it Sandy Cape for nothing. Other than the built up gravel road that takes you from the highway to the campsite, the entire region is a mass of sand dunes. Inland, winds have carried sand from the beaches to create great mountains of white sand that might as well be an alien landscape compared to the rocky coasts of western Canada. As the terrain new to me, this genre of off-road driving would require a very steep learning curve if I were to survive the weekend.
I had already made a fool of myself the night before, getting stuck in the sand looking for a campsite of all things. Venturing out into the network of sandy trails leading to deserted beaches and haunting abandoned bunkers, would soon have me tossing sand like the best of Aussie adventurers. That or my corpse would be found weeks later leaning up against a Landcruiser fender drowning in the sand.
Staying to the eastern-most main entry trail was the safest route, as the base was hard packed sand with a minimal chance of getting stuck. But there really wasn’t anything to see; all the good vistas and trails would be on the other side of the main dune that runs down the coastline. This large ridge of sand was much softer and would require me to man up and get adventurous.
Finding one of several cross-trails that crest the ridge, I pulled up to the base of a steep climb and dismounted for an on-foot scouting mission. As soon as I stepped onto the dune, my feet sank deep into the sand and I could feel my anxiety start to heighten. Clambering up the dune, the effort required just to hike through the loose sand had me gasping for air. When I reached the top of the dune, I was an overheated mass of sweat and dripping sunscreen. Sand was stuck to my exposed skin, and my mouth was parched as the morning sun sucked the moisture from my body. However, the view from atop the dune was well worth the effort. Ahead of me lie a massive network of trails, open sand bowls, and vast beaches of turquoise blue water meeting a sea of white sand. Off in the distance, I could see my goal for the day; a peninsula named North Head that stretched out into the ocean with abandoned bunkers dotting the hillside.
Sliding back down to the Landcruiser, I made preparations for the coming sandy challenges. The Landcruiser is not what you would call a light vehicle, and the tires it stands on could function as pizza cutters. Not the best combination when high flotation is required. However, there were several tracks heading up over the dune, and I’ll be damned if a little sand was going to stop me from getting the big Landcruiser onto the exciting side of the dune.
Out came the tire pressure gauge and I deflated the tires down to 16-psi (could have likely gone down a bit further, but really didn’t want to deal with a blown bead out here on my own). I locked the hubs, locked up the diffs, and threw the Landcruiser into 4-High. With a healthy right foot and the snorkel next to my window sucking great quantities of fresh salty air in for combustion, I slammed into the dune and was rocketed up to the crest with amazing speed. I had to get on the brakes to stop from launching over the top. “That wasn’t so hard, what was I so stressed about?”
With my anxiety now transformed into confidence, I continued down the front side of the dune, through a bowl and over another crest putting me on a much more enjoyable trail that ran parallel to the beach. Driving in loose sand is quite something. You get a lot more flotation than you would think. Steering is a lot slower than usual and momentum is a must. If I ever felt my momentum slow and the wheels start to dig (usually on a slope), I’d bring everything to a stop, back out of it and take another run at it with a little more speed to help power through steep or deep sand.
Playing around in the dunes was fantastic, however I would always dismount and inspect uncertain terrain on foot to ensure I wouldn’t get myself into a dangerous situation. With every challenge I met and conquered, my confidence grew as did my lust to take on even more challenging routes. However, as the sun climbed high in the sky, the temperatures started to rocket up towards the high 30’s and both hydration and fatigue quickly showed their ugly faces.
After a few hours of play and exploration, I came to the turn-off to North Head. I could see that the trail had not been used in quite some time and sand drifts had filled in the track in many areas. Time for another learning experience as getting through would require some mean looking steep side slopes and even softer sand.
I got out and scouted the first couple hundred metres of trail on foot. My shoes filled with sand and my energy levels were requiring caloric intake. Time to go Aussie with bare feet, a slug of water from the camel back and quick energy bar to help me push through the environmental challenges. Always make sure you are prepared for the conditions you might find in a foreign country. Sweating your way through a desert environment may look glamorous in movies, but it can get real dangerous real quick when dealing with the real thing.
I jumped back onto the winding trail and tackled my first drift. With my passenger side wheels hooked up on the trail berms and the driver’s side sinking deep on the low side of the trail, the Landcruiser pitched over to the point that the roof was just starting the rub the opposite bank. I’ve had little experience testing the side slope lean of a Landcruiser, so the first couple drifts were orifice-clinching experiments. The extra loose sand not only slowed the momentum of the Landcruiser, but also sucked it deeper into the low side of the trail that would pinch it between the drift and the bank. Even more throttle was my answer, and in some cases, second and even third gears were called upon.
Coming to rest on the top of a crest, I could see that the trail was about to get quite technical. A few fresh drifts and a couple quick 90-degree turns had me questioning the abilities of the Landcruiser. I took a wide angle into the first corner, a drift sliding me down into a hollow that looked more like the Great Pit of Carkoon; I felt like I was dealt a death sentence from Jabba the Hutt as the Landcruiser slowly understeered and leaned into the pit of doom. With an arm full of steering lock and my bare foot firmly planted into the firewall, the big diesel chugged up into the first turn with the front passenger side tire lifting up into the air. My trajectory was thrown off by the slippage and the driver’s side was heading for the right side berm of the second 90-degree right turn. With a great thud, the ARB bumper smashed into the sand berm, after which the whole front axle leapt into the air and landed back on the proper line while the rears continued to push, kicking the back end around. The Landcruiser lurched into a pivot and clambered up through the final corner with the engine now on the rev limiter. I’d made it through my toughest challenge yet.
Pulling up onto a last dune before the final climb onto North Head, I could tell the dune was quite likely a little too much for my new acquired sand driving experience. Better to sit this one out and hike the final couple hundred metres than do something I might regret. On foot, I explored the three abandoned bunkers that sit on the hillside. Topping the hill is a memorial that is dedicated to Robert Murray Bartle, who was killed during a shark attack back in 1967. The road to this point is challenging, being the steepest in the area and featuring a couple of tight turns. It is a point of pride for local wheelers, but as I’m rolling in a rental, my decision to hike was the right one.
After exploring the North Head on foot, I returned to my trusty Landcruiser, made the adventurous journey back off the peninsula and found a beautiful stretch of beach to set up camp number two. With the engine shut down for the day, I set up the pop-top, pulled out the kitchen and beach chair, pulled a brew from the fridge and sat in the sand gazing upon the ocean. It’s just one small fraction of the experience available to a 4WD in this vast off-road expanse. I can’t recommend it enough. If you find yourself in Australia, just say no to the tour bus. Rent yourself a 4WD camper and go and see the real Australia. G’day mate.