My F711 RST Nullarbor adventure

...I was only recently thinking how buggered the forum has become, but with stories like this...well written, descriptive and grammatically very good...it puts faith back into what used to be on here.

....I could probably tell a heap of stories just like this one... Over 25 years in the old truck movement, jumping into something that hasn't seen bitumen for a long time and heading off into the wild unknown just to get her back home. Done it a hundred times with old trucks either for the collecting or just helping out an ol' mate.....and each story was a different adventure full of the unknown and exhilaration at the same time...

.... "don't go blowing your own trumpet"...."stop bloody bragging"....."pull ya f'..... head in" etc. etc. is good enough reason to keep a blokes' mouth shut a lot of the time.

...Thanks Maxidyne for sharing your adventure thus far and please continue on. Stories like this will keep this forum alive...Cheers to you, and congratulations on your recent purchase

Part 6
I grabbed a Phillips head screw driver out of the tool box and gave the headlamps a bit of an adjustment based on where they pointed the night before and also tilted the mighty little $25 delivered LED light bar back just a little more. I made sure the latch of the tool box wouldn't foul on my black overnight/toolbag, that was now turning the once familiar red of bulldust. I smiled and chuckled to myself at all the rub marks and dust on everything in the tool box.

The downside of aiming for Nullarbor Roadhouse from Border Village in the dark was that I'd miss out on seeing the coastline off to the right, as I'd been told it was quite close to the road in places around there. I'd also missed out on seeing the surrounding terrain of Fraser Range east of Norseman on my first day due to delays on the road.
My original plan was to stop at a couple of coastal viewing points east of Eucla and grab some nice pics featuring both the coast and the truck. Such are the demands of living in a city like Sydney I suppose...

So I pushed on with improved lighting to Nullarbor Roadhouse and pulled up near the camp sight for the night. I'd been snacking all afternoon, so I opened a bag of beef jerky, a couple little packs of cheese and crackers and some cashews. It was after 8pm by this time and the days were harder than I expected in the noisy smoke smelling cab, so I went and tidied up in the bathroom and prepared for bed.
This time I re zipped the sleeping bag, sorted the sheets and everything else that had jumped out of the sleeper thought the day, opened the drivers side sleeper vent, and closed everything else bar the passenger quarter window to have some fresh air and to try and keep the cold out.

I'd purchased a lithium booster pack that had 4 USB outlets, so I put both phones on charge, rebooted the useless Aldi Mobile/Telstra phone to try and message Patricia before going to sleep. It still wouldn't log onto Telstra, even though I could see it when doing a manual network selection. I'd say based on my 6 years with Optus Mobile as a technical analyst that Aldi doesn't have access to Telstra's remote area network where they don't have stores, but I will endeavour to find out.

Anyway, the sleeping bag featured a hood to keep ones head warm, so with the bedding re arranged with the extra sheet in place and the towel placed handy just incase, I cocooned myself into the heat soak sleeper and promptly went to sleep very warm and comfortable whilst recounting the memories of my adventure that day.

As usual I woke up for a leak at around 2am, had a drink and re zipped myself into the sleeping bag and as the cab had cooled, I also threw my dried out towel over as an extra cover.

I woke up to the gentle pre dawn light filtering in through the windscreen, still warm and comfortable, propped myself up on one arm so I could watch the sunrise. Such a fantastic way to start the day.

All the Grey Nomads where also appearing out of their motor homes and vans in their dressing gowns, heading to the loos and showers. I envied their lifestyle as they mass migrate from New South Wales, Victoria and South Australia, to escape the eastern winter and enjoy the sub tropics of various parts of the west coast. A good mate of mines parents do this trip ever year from country Victoria to the west for 3 months. It suddenly dawned to me as to why they do this and I made a mental note to share this with Patricia when I get home as part of our retirement plan.

Off to the bathroom, tidied up a little for my Monday breakfast in a very warm and comfortable cafe area. I ordered a big mug of black coffee to have with my toasty (Ham, Cheese and Tomato) and the U.K. Backpacker guy serving me asked if I'd like a little cold water in it, to which I gratefully agreed. Don't get asked that in the city much.

The toasty was being lightly fried using butter, which I could faintly smell coming from the kitchen into the dining area. It just made the great strong long black coffee taste even better! I sat there thinking how my Monday mornings usually start at 3:45am, so I can take advantage of a 1 hour window of opportunity to service a partially automated chicken kebab processing plant out the west of Sydney before they start processing tonnes of chilled chicken Maryland fillets into Kebabs. The advantage is the machines are clean and dry from the massive clean up, the downside is lying on a piece of cardboard under a machine on cold concrete in a 10°C processing room. With no mobile coverage I hoped my young workmate who is a talented fitter/machinist was coping with any possible call outs there as I had given him the Telstra# if he needed any guidance with some of the unfamiliar machines. Much to my relief, I later found about all my previous maintenance, repairs, updates etc had paid off to a trouble free week for them.

The toasty arrived on my table, light golden brown. The dining area was so warm, I was only a third into my coffee, so the all important ratio of toasty vs coffee was absolutely spot on. I can assure you, I wasn't in any hurry to leave...

defective wrote: ...I was only recently thinking how buggered the forum has become, but with stories like this...well written, descriptive and grammatically very good...it puts faith back into what used to be on here.

....I could probably tell a heap of stories just like this one... Over 25 years in the old truck movement, jumping into something that hasn't seen bitumen for a long time and heading off into the wild unknown just to get her back home. Done it a hundred times with old trucks either for the collecting or just helping out an ol' mate.....and each story was a different adventure full of the unknown and exhilaration at the same time...

.... "don't go blowing your own trumpet"...."stop bloody bragging"....."pull ya f'..... head in" etc. etc. is good enough reason to keep a blokes' mouth shut a lot of the time.

...Thanks Maxidyne for sharing your adventure thus far and please continue on. Stories like this will keep this forum alive...Cheers to you, and congratulations on your recent purchase

Thanks mate, like you said, I'm only trying to share my modest adventure in the hope that it entertains and inspires others to do the same. I hope you can find the time to share some of your stories too

Part 7
It was time to get a move on, so I wandered back out to the truck. I wanted to give it a once over, check the fluids and tire pressures, then have a shower and get going.

First thing I noticed was the whole drivers side of the truck was covered in diesel, it was even pooled in the rib of the drivers side tubeless wheels and the red dirt under the front cross member showed that the patched fuel leak had become worse. Even the lower third of the cab on the drivers side had a film of diesel on it, so I knew it'd need more attention. The whole underside of the truck was covered in diesel too.
Up until then, I had wrongly assumed it was a low pressure return line from the pump, as I believed if it was leaking on the lift side of the pump, it'd suck air and not run properly, if at all.

Unfortunately I had forgotten to pack sealant, so I thought OK, I'll just pull the cable tied brake hose patch off, clean it, wrap it in duct tape and then refit the rubber hose patch with hose clamps this time. I then checked the oil and water, poured in less than a litre of water to top her up and started the motor to check the fuel leak and warm the motor somewhat whilst checking the tyre pressures. The leaked appeared to be sealing better, with a drop every few seconds, so I thought to myself if it degrades I'll stop at Port Augusta and find a hose shop to replace both the compressor line and what I thought is the fuel return line. I checked the tank with my now trusty bit of garden hose and the level was where I thought it should be for the distance covered. So I shut her down, grabbed my bag and a fresh set of hi vis and made my way to the shower block.

Earlier during breakfast I had enquired about the showers and was advised how to simply use $1.00 coins to turn the water on for 4 minutes. The showers were very clean and from what I could see everyone observed the mop up sign before you leave.
I was a little cold again from working under the truck and diesel had run up my arms and the back of my head which I had rested on the steer axle whilst under there was also a bit grubby, so thankfully I had a few coins with me, but mindfully kept the water pressure low to conserve water, whilst having a slightly longer hot shower and washing out a pair of shorts as I hadn't packed enough and had forgot to purchase more in Kmart back at Kalgoorlie. Warmed up with fresh soft clothes that Patricia had put through the dryer was very welcoming.

Back in the truck, I fired the Ol girl up again and noticed one of the rattles I was hearing was due to the passenger side sleeper vent being wired shut with speaker wire as the linkages had failed. So I jumped out and grabbed the trusty role of duct tape and tightly taped the remaining linkages shut in the hope that they also wouldn't rattle.

I eased out on to the road without the earphones inserted to have a listen and make sure everything was fine and gradually accelerated up to speed as she warmed up. I was quite pleased with myself as I went through all 8 gears without a single crunch.

Even with the morning sun shining into the cabin and warming both me and the roof, plus the heat soak starting to warm the cabin from underneath, it was still quite cool this morning and I was still wearing my old woollen hi vis jacket to keep warm. I had carefully coiled an used pair of trousers and shirt around the gear stick, which kept most of the hot fumes at bay too. I reached up and closed to roof vent which helped, as all I had open was both quarter windows and the drivers side bunk vent. So whilst my taping job on the passenger side bunk vent helped eliminate most of the cabs rattles, I had created a new one by shutting the roof vent. I noticed the mechanism had worn, so I added that one to my mental gunna do list.

I had been adding a bottle of Wurth Diesel Cure to each full tank and that along with the longer runs made motor more responsive and cleared up quite a bit of the excessive oil smoke in the mornings. So I started to let the revs climb up to an indicated 2150, as there was little or no driveline vibration there. I was seeing an indicated 62 mph hour, but was still being overtaken by semi's.

Next stop Penong...

Part 8
The old girl was humming along nicely this morning and I was enjoying listening to Englebert Humperdink and I started thinking about how most of his big hits were really quite sad stories. I had grown up with his music, along with Dean Martin, Tom Jones, Nana Mouskouri etc, so it was great to enjoy them again on such a nice drive. The roads weren't as wide as in WA and not quite as smooth, but still pretty good for what was basically a bobtail short wheelbase Mack prime mover with a 44,000lb camelback suspension.

The words of the previous owner Benny reminded me not to chase the steering "you just sit there and hold it, it steers really well..." were spot on. The more I relaxed the better the truck felt. At some stage, being an American built F711 with the conversion shaft drive over to the right, someone had upgraded the power steering box. It's quite a neat conversion and all the joints seem to be in good condition, so there was really no need to saw away at the wheel. Even if I had to go right over to the left shoulder and beyond for oversized loads coming the other way, provided I didn't preload the steering too far to get back on the black stuff, the truck has proved to be extremely stable and responsive. Due to not driving heavy vehicles that often I had up until now been really concentrating hard to ensure I was holding my lane well and checking where I was positioned using the mirrors.

Somewhere near Yatala, off to the left I saw this massive Kalari triple road train about to enter the road in front of me, so I started to back off thinking he'd need lots of room to join the highway and that he'd also be faster than me.



He easily held the long purpose built merge lane and as I approached down to about 60k and I found he was still going quite a bit slower and still had quite a bit of his merge lane to go, so I passed him easily and we waved as I overtook him.

A while later, I saw the flashing lights of an escort vehicle coming towards to and could make out a massive oversized float that would need all of the road, so I indicated left and worked my way down through the gears, once again without a crunch. I pulled off the road completely and was surprised how at the condition of the wide run off, so at walking pace I went to the left of the marker posts and just idled forward as the wide load passed.

I thought I'd better get the Ol girl going as surely the road train would be gaining as well be on a tight schedule and would be rounding me up once we got back on the flat. For road trains and others, I had at times signalled them passed and slowed up once they had started to overtake to help things along for them.

My bladder decided we would need to stop in the next township of Penong, and the triple had not reappeared in my mirrors. So I eased up and pulled into the truck and car parking bay with loos and water just on the western end of town.

Left the old girl to idle down and was walking back from the loo when a young guy about to leave in his 4wd drive ute with a decent sized genset and welder in the back nervously asked if there was diesel available at Nullarbor. I assured him there was. He was on his way back from the mines in the north of South Australia at the end of his contract to his parents home in Perth. I asked if he had enough fuel and money to refuel there and his smiled a rare gold toothed smile and confirmed he was right for money and fuel, provided it was available at Nullarbor. I told him about Nullarbor Roadhouse, we wished each other well and he went on his merry way.

I was almost back to my truck when the road train caught up in this picture and parked next to me.



We waved to each other again and I decided to check all tyre pressures before leaving.
The road train driver was out of his vehicle too and was doing a walk around, I looked up just as he finished and was about to walk to the local cafe for a coffee.
He looked tired and I was surprised at how young he looked, we waved at each other and by the time I'd finished what I was doing he was walking back with a massive coffee. I walked up and we introduced ourselves. He explained he had to stop for two minutes for the wide load and unfortunately it put him out on his breaks and would have to wait another 45 minutes before he could leave due to live tracking etc.
We got to chatting about his job and the 135 tonne triple he was driving and then we got on to old cars, his a VL Exectutive Turbo manual that he was doing up in Adelaide and my early RX7 race car back in Sydney. His name is Dylan and is the youngest triple road train driver in the fleet at 26.



I moved my truck up to his for the photo and as his break was nearing an end I thought I'd better get a move on as he was speed restricted to 87kph and had to stop not only for his mandatory break, but also because both cabin cameras and alarms had triggered due to slightly drooping eyelids. He also showed me some of the other live cameras fitted and told me about the Bluetooth system for individual axle weights in the cab. We said goodbye and got on my way towards a fuel stop and lunch at Ceduna.

Maxidyne,
Thanks for a delightful, detailed, well written diary of your trip. It is fascinating to read, as I have never driven across the "Paddock" and never worked as a truck driver. (unless you count a few years as a Taxi Truck driver in metropolitan Melbourne)

Keep up the good work. How about a few stories, when you get home, of past jobs, drives or challenges?

Morris.

So awesome.
Thinking of some long trip in my little truck now, just for the hell of it.

Thanks for a great travel story so far Maxidyne. Yours is one of the best yarns I've read on this forum for a heck of a long time. It's the things that go wrong or dramas that happen that makes a trip into a memorable one, and your adventure has had all of that.
All the best to you and your Mack. Geoff

Hi Maxidyne,

If ever you decide to take up journalism, your a natural!
One of the best series of updates I've read since joining this forum. Done well!
Dave_64

great story - Being greedy I am looking forward to more!