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1984 Ride to Roxby

• Ride to Roxby by Meredith Brownhill (Freewheeling).
• The Journey to Roxby by John Englart.
• Blockading Roxby: How the police manipulated the media by John Englart.

In august 1983 and 1984 blockades of the new Roxby Downs Mine in South Australia occurred. Greenpeace was the Sydney co-ordinating organisation for the blockade. In 1984 I attended pre blockade meetings along with Meredith Brownhill who worked at Inner City Cycles in Glebe. We decided to organise a Ride to Roxby of Sydney cyclists and set about organising publicity. An extra carriage on the Indian Pacific was organised to carry cyclists and their bikes from Sydney to Broken Hill, and other blockaders to Port Augusta. The ride was farewelled at Sydney Town Hall by Jack Mundey, renowned Green Bans unionist and councilor on City of Sydney Council.

The first day we rode south to the Atomic Energy Commission Nuclear Reactor at Lucas Heights, where we camped for the night. We were told we would not be allowed to camp on the same side of the road as the facility: to camp in the gully opposite where we would be effectively out of site of passing traffic. We made our camp there, but refused to be invisible by lighting a small fire beside the road, with our banners up on the AAEC signs.

The next day cyclists rode back to Central Station to catch the Indian Pacific, while through the night and next day I drove the ride support vehicle, loaded with food, camping equipment and spare bike parts, to meet the train at Broken Hill.

John Englart
May 2004

Ride to Roxby Downs 1984

Meredith Brownhill
Freewheeling Magazine No 28 Summer 1984/85 Page 47

The recent history of long distance bike rides in Australia owes much to the anti-uranium protest movement. Between 1975 and 1977 some four thousand young people pedalled their machines as a form of protest from the coastal cities to the national capital at Canberra.

To show that the pedal or perish spirit is not drowned in the apathy of the eighties an intrepid group of pedallers rode to join the recent blockade of the Roxby Downs uranium mine in the deserts of South Australia:

Meredith Brownhill describes the 500 km trip made by bicycle riding protesters from Broken Hill through Port Augusta and Woomera to Roxby Downs in August, 1984.

Having decided to participate in the Roxby Downs Uranium Mine Blockade the thought of a bicycle ride instantly occurred. A bicycle ride seemed an excellent way to publicize the cheap, energy efficient and nonpolluting aspects of cycling. The social contact with local people that occurs when cycling seemed an excellent opportunity to talk about the dangers of uranium mining, the nuclear fuel cycle and the nuclear arms race. And besides, cycling is fun.

Filled with enthusiasm and excitement I found another like minded cyclist, Anarchist John, and in time we found others and planned our bike ride and actions at the blockade.

Before the ride, some of us attended weekend training workshops in nonviolent, civil disobedience. It was a worthwhile experience where bonds of trust and caring were established that would give us strength and solidarity. Skills were also acquired in decision-making procedures which gave me hope that, at last, there were alternatives to boring meetings.

The nine of us who rode together had a couple of workshops preparing our bikes for the task ahead. Our enthusiasm soared - and the equipment on our bikes increased! It was worth it. With a 25 kilo bag of rice, some spare parts and John's household car for our support vehicle we were set to go.

Immediately before our ride we held a protest ride in Sydney and camped overnight at Lucas Heights to publicise the Roxby ride and uranium gas leakage which had just occurred.

Sunday, 19th August was the official start of the blockade. At Central Railway there was pandemonium as 37 Roxby activists boarded the Indian Pacific. There were other bikes being taken to Roxby besides ours. The platform was piled high with bikes, banners, tents, shovels, boxes of food, woks, sunhats and guitars.

We were met in Broken Hill by John, our fellow cyclist and support vehicle driver. It was cold and raining - no one cared much at this stage as we were filled with excited expectancy about our ride ahead. With the other Roxby activists who were continuing by train to Port Augusta, we sang songs, said fond farewells and held up our "Pedal for Peace" banner as the train moved past.

This, the first stage of our ride was the hardest as we cycled straight into the dreaded westerly winds. Alfred, a longtime intrepid tourer, was the only person to enjoy what he called a challenge! For the rest of us it was hard going.

For me, a slow rider at any time, the head winds made the journey physically very difficult and demoralising. We seemed to move so slowly across the almost flat, open salt-bush plains, a bend in the road became a longed-for goal, as did the car with John standing there offering sustenance.

However, there were moments of enjoyment in the early mornings and evenings when the wind dropped and all was calm. Having travelled through this country by car, I discovered a new beauty in the vastness of the plains and sky. The drought had broken and Salvation Jane, saltbush and grasses grew thickly on the red earth.

On the first night we established some common agreements about cooking, rest stops etc. We also agreed not to graffiti buildings in town and to establish as much friendly contact as possible with local people. So we kept graffiti for the highways and billboards. We also agreed to stick together in towns in case we were attacked for being 'greenies'.

In our second day's cycling, motorists began to stop and tell us of another cyclist who was trying to catch us. It was Phillip, who had been to the mountain bike trial en route - John drove back and gave him a lift so we could all be together.

The towns we drove through consisted of petrol station, pub and shop, and even there we found a few supporters for our ride. The publican of the Olary pub used to work at the Radium Hill uranium mines and told us many of his work mates were dead. Indeed, the Registrar of Deaths shows that 40% of those who worked underground at Radium Hill have died from cancer.

We rode on through Yunta, Oodlawirra and Peterborough, through headwinds, torrential rains and a hailstorm.

We made it to Wilmington which is sheltered by the Mt. Remarkable Ranges, and made camp in Debbie's favourite spot, an old river bed with gum trees and celebrated her 21st birthday. An assortment of bongo drums, whistles, cowbells and a lagerphone appeared. Wil played his recorder and we all drank a lot of port around the camp fire that night.

Next morning up the road came more bicycles with flags flying in the breeze, a tandem towing a trailer with a child in it, and a very old green bus with yet more bicycles stashed on top and behind. We were now 25 cyclists and a child.

We learned from the Adelaide cyclists that they too had been riding through wind and rain, and on muddy roads. They had spent time in Port Pirie and erected a sign at the tailings dam indicating its hazards. This 'dam' was a children's playground until 1978 when it was fenced off. The tailings have been eroded by wind and in 1981 high tides caused a breach in the dam.

Our first night with the Adelaide riders, and our last shower, was just south of Port Augusta. We had to camp at Stirling North because the campsites at Pt. Augusta would not accept us on political grounds. It was here that motorists began to throw objects and to yell abuse at us as they roared past. We were not surprised by this hostility as this mining/industrial area has been affected with rising unemployment.

Once out of Port Augusta and pedalling north, the countryside changed to light scrub with brightly coloured wildflowers growing. It flew past as we cycled along and indulged ourselves in trick riding. Martin had an unfortunate series of punctures remedied by a new Cheng Shing tyre. And Ian and Louise powered along on the tandem, sometimes singing whilst Sassa in the trailer passed food supplies to them. Someone always rode behind the trailer to protect Sassa from passing cars.

On our ninth day on the road we had 90 km to go to reach Narrungar, U.S. military communications base, by mid-afternoon. Helen, who deserves a special mention for pedalling a women's single speed bike with an 84 inch gear ratio all the way from Adelaide, set off early. Battered old bikes arrived at Roxby just as well as any of the well-equipped touring bikes from Sydney. Bicycles are marvellous and never to be underestimated!

The "Star" police force (specially trained and named for the blockade) came to meet us on motor bikes, and the unmarked police car that had tailed the Adelaide bikes all the way passed us.

Shady sun hats appeared on heads as we cycled up one of the few hills on the ride, and climbed up onto a plateau. It was a strange and fascinating landscape. Salt lakes could be seen glimmering at the base of the plateau cliffs - almost like looking at the ocean. There were no trees, no scrub, just very prickly ground cover and lots of blue sky.

We stopped to rest and plan our entrance to the base.

Our imaginations and activist ambitions soared as we saw ourselves cycling straight past the police, who couldn't catch us on our bikes, into a top security base. Road barriers would cease to be an obstacle as we'd ride around them and go across-country. There would be no stopping us now that bicycles had become new tactical vehicles in the struggle against U.S. nuclear proliferation.

We saw the top of the dome-shaped tracking station shining in the valley as we approached, then we saw the "all clear" signal from our 50 or so supporters. Excitement and tension mounted as we gathered speed and turned the corner, cycling through a cheering crowd. We flashed past the first sign saying "No entry . . . seven years in gaol". There were still no police in sight, so we thought "great - let's go for it." And we did. Over the grid, past another sign, past another cheering group and then down the hill to the base. All too soon a white barrier, cement-filled drums and the Star Police Force loomed up in front of us. Worse, there was no way around as they'd dug a trench. End of fantasy!

Before we left for Roxby next morning John planted a date palm and laid a stone next to it with the date and our cyclist logo painted on it. We also erected a sign on the Stuart Highway saying "Narrungar: Nuclear Target", but it didn't stay up for very long.

Stefan and David couldn't wait so they rode on ahead. The rest of us had lunch in Woomera, a strange town with a park full of aeoroplanes and weapons. This glorification of war was more than we could bear.

We now had 80 kms of dirt road left to cycle - we were almost there. The sun was getting hot and the tail wind had long gone as we rode into sand dunes. The rolling sand dunes have small scrubby trees growing on them and in between the dunes, which run east-west across the centre of Australia, there are often claypans and stony flat ground that have very prickly grass and thorns galore. Many of the claypans are sacred to the Kokotha Aborigines.

Our last morning's ride was hot, dusty and windy with the road rolling up and down over the sand dunes. The Star Force motorcycles passed us yet again. With great enthusiasm 21 bicycles and a tandem with the trailer headed for Roxby. A police helicopter flew over, circled and flew away. I had to laugh - were we really such a threat?

Great joy, there was the camp with people welcoming us. We soon arrived at the main gate in style, taking up the whole road. The scene looked familiar with the police and drums of cement. People were singing and drums were playing and we were at Roxby - we'd made it.

First Rob, then Martin and Manfred disappeared with a police escort. Then it was my turn to be arrested. I still had my foot in the toe clip, so sooner than drag me off the bike two police officers wheeled me through the gate and to the paddy wagon. I felt I was arrested in the best possible manner - on my bicycle, so for me it was all worthwhile.

Twelve cyclists were arrested with 50 other blockaders who came onto the road to support us. We were all charged with loitering. Most of us pleaded guilty, made a statement about uranium mining in court and were duly fined $25.

I felt as if I was passing through a time warp as we were driven straight back to Woomera Police Station. The police were accommodating and gave us vegetarian salad sandwiches for tea. As we were starving everyone decided that the cyclists deserved an extra sandwich - that made 3 each. Minutes later, we were all curled up together for warmth under shared blankets and fast asleep on the floor of the cell. I dimly recall hearing voices amusedly saying "gee, look at the cyclists, they're all asleep" . . . no wonder. At 1.30am we were awoken and taken into court.

At 6am the 12 of us retrieved our dusty bicycles from the mine security guards. All the flags had been broken and removed from the Adelaide bikes, and the panniers of some had been searched.

We continued to stay together at Roxby as an affinity group and built a beautiful camp site for ourselves, bicycles forming part of the windbreak. The uses of bicycles at Roxby were endless: one powered a sewing machine to make banners, others charged batteries by running Sanyo dynapower generators when cycling or by wind power at night to provide light.

We felt that not only had we made a valuable contribution to the Roxby blockade, but we had really demonstrated a practical and alternative energy source.

The Journey to Roxby

From private letters on the journey to Roxby
and participation in the Roxby Blockade protests.
By John Englart

Ride progress report from Peterborough, South Australia

by John Englart, Friday 24 August 1984

Our ride is going well. There are 9 people - eight cycling and myself driving the support vehicle.

At Broken Hill we did an interview with the Broken Hill newspaper and photo. We asked they send a copy to Greenpeace.

From Broken Hill we started out in rain and strong headwinds. It fined up about midday but no lapse in the wind. Made it to Coburn before sindown - a shelered camp.

Second day to Olary also had strong headwinds but a clear day. The desert is quite green and alive. We did not arrive in town till dusk. I was worried some might be still cycling at night but all just made it. Another sheltered campsite. A few of us went to the pub and talked with a couple of locals. One expressed concern at the hazards of mining uranium and detailed that one third of people who worked Radium Hill (nearby) are now dead. Still lots of radiation around Radium Hill. Very receptive to what we were saying.

Next day we cycled to Yunta with very strong headwinds. I used the car for the cyclists to slipstream at 20kph. First one group, then a second group.

On thursday Meredith and I rang the media: Adelaide Advertiser, ABC, 2SER, 2JJJ, SMH and informed them all of our progress. Will ring again from Port Augusta on Monday. On Sunday we meet the Adelaide cyclists.

Talking to the ABC we discovered that there is a group of cyclists riding from Brisbane! Great news and we look forward to meeting them whenever.

Peterborough is a medium sized town and we have replenished fruit and vege supplies here.

We have generally had a fairly sympathetic response on the ride with some good natured disagreement (as expected). Those that disagree are acknowledging our strength of comitment and wishing us good luck.

Blockading Roxby

1982 World Bike Ride | Index |

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