There is just something about Cape York. It’s a place that is like no other on the planet, offering more than just endless tracks and infinitely variable terrain; it’s a fair dinkum must-do on every rider’s bucket list.
I’m not even exactly sure why that is. It’s not like you can’t find corrugations, water crossings, mud or any of the other terrain you’ll encounter anywhere else, but there is an undeniable pull to the region. It’s chock-full of dichotomies on mescaline. Simultaneously heartbreakingly punishing and overwhelmingly rewarding; mercilessly savage yet stunningly beautiful; undeniably remote and inhospitable while cultivating the warm sensation of coming home after being too-long away. It is aloe vera for a sunburned soul.
