​I’ve had a bit of a dream for a while now — probably since the first month of owning my bike. That dream has been to move towards a more rally-style setup for adventure riding, complete with a proper navigation system. Not long after, I discovered the DMD 2 navigation platform. I was immediately drawn to the larger tablet-style units, but it quickly became clear that the biggest option would be a little oversized for my bike, so the smaller 6-inch model seemed the sensible choice.
That was until DMD announced a new 7-inch unit, scheduled for release in March this year. That changed everything. The size looks like it’ll be just right for my setup — now I just need to work out how to mount it properly.

​Mounting and protection became the next challenge. My current phone mount leaves the device fully exposed to the elements: branches, flying rocks, dust, and, of course, bug splatter. I’d previously tried a Bajaworx windscreen, but the helmet buffeting was unbearable and quickly ruled it out. I even toyed with the idea of building a small fibreglass cowl based on the headlight shroud, though that project never quite got off the ground. Then I came across a GPS mounting system from NICECNC — the same company that made my existing GPS mount. It looks like it might strike the right balance between protection and airflow, without introducing unwanted buffeting.

To fit the NICECNC mount, however, I’ll need to remove the crossbar from my handlebars, which means this project is turning into a multi-stage upgrade.
Stage 1: New BarsTo remove the crossbar, I needed to move to a 1⅛-inch diameter bar setup. That meant replacing several components:

• Handlebars
  
• Bar clamps
  
• Barkbuster clamps
  
• Grips (which were nearly worn out anyway)
  

With that done, it was off with the old and on with the new.

Stage 2: GPS MountNext, I’ll need to relocate the ignition and USB charger to make room for the new mount. Hopefully, I won’t need to replace the odometer with something smaller. Until the new navigation system arrives, I’ll continue using my SP Connect phone mount and phone.

Stage 3: Navigation SystemOnce available, I plan to purchase the DMD 2 NOR7E along with the remote controller and complete the installation.

​For now, Stage 1 is complete — and the rally-style transformation is officially underway.

I have designed a new T-Shirt. This one is a dig at the BS that comes from the mouth of Donald Dump and his cronies!

​I bought a new pair of motorbike gloves today — the DriRider RX Adventure (Summer) gloves.

The reason I thought it was time for new gloves was because of the issues I’ve had with the others. The Rjay gloves (black) use neoprene around the wrist. Although they’re comfortable, the neoprene has started to fall apart from pulling them on. The Fly gloves (black and orange) felt great in the shop and fitted nicely at first, but once my hands got hot and swelled, they became difficult to take off and put back on. On top of that, you can see they only stitched the Velcro at the tip, and the rest has pulled away — anything to save a buck.
Hopefully, the RX Adventure gloves will solve all those problems.

The old gloves will be kept as spare gloves that I will pack when I go on multi day adventures. Just in case I lose one, or they get muddy and wet.

I recently picked up one of the new DJI Mic Minis — a neat little gadget with just two buttons. No manual included, but honestly, who needs one for something that simple? One button for power, another to link it to the DJI Osmo Action 5 Pro. Easy. I paired it, tested it, and it worked perfectly. Job done… or so I thought.
Turns out, this clever little mic has a surprise feature — it shuts down after 15 minutes in its default mode. How was I supposed to know that? Who records a quick test clip, then sits around watching a microphone for a quarter of an hour?
Yes, yes, RTFM. But there was no FM to read!
Fast forward to my latest overnight motorbike trip. I set the mic up neatly in my helmet, ready for some crisp, wind-free audio. The first clip sounded great. But after that… silence. Most of my trip narration? Gone — lost to the wind. Thankfully, the camera’s internal mic seemed to step in and save the day (even though I was sure I’d turned it off).
During the ride, I noticed the mic’s LED had gone dark. I restarted it a few times and even mentioned it to Jason, thinking maybe it had a power-saving feature and would reconnect automatically each time the camera started. Nope. Not even close.
This morning, I finally did what I should have done earlier — Googled it. Turns out, there is a manual, hidden away online, and you need to connect the mic to the DJI Mimo app to change its settings. By default, it powers off after 15 minutes of “inactivity.” Oh, and you have to manually enable noise cancelling too.
So now I’ve turned off the auto shut-off and switched on noise cancelling. You’d think those would be default settings, especially when DJI claims the battery lasts 10 hours. That is, if they mean with it running constantly and noise cancelling turned on!
Oh, and surprise, there is a software update for the mic as well.
Lesson learned. Next time, I’ll be back to narrating the old-fashioned way — and hopefully, the next adventure will sound as good as it looks. Grrrrrrr!

This map highlights all the routes I’ve explored in adventure mode so far. At this stage, I’ve only completed two rides that stretched beyond a single day, but that’s about to change. On Friday, 3 October, I’ll be heading out on another overnighter—adding a new line to the map and another story to the journey.​

I’ve finally picked up an action cam, so now my adventure stories can come to life on video! Check out my journeys on The Explorerist YouTube channel.

The weather was too good to waste in Canberra, so we made a snap decision—head to the coast for the day.

Rather than follow the usual path to Batemans Bay, we aimed a little further south. Our destination: Meringo, with a stop in Moruya along the way. We left Canberra and followed the familiar route to Braidwood, but instead of turning down the Kings Highway, we continued straight on towards Araluen—a road I hadn’t driven in years.
The descent into the Araluen Valley was as scenic as I remembered—twisting bends through open country, the kind that makes you slow down and take in the view. We made a quick stop in the valley so I could grab a photo of the old church there—just a reference shot for when I come back with proper gear.

From Araluen, the road follows the Deua River and becomes a narrow, winding dirt track in places—barely wide enough for one car in some stretches. It’s a quiet route, hugged tightly between the hills and the river, and the scenery is well worth the slower pace.
Partway along, we turned off onto Larrys Mountain Road—new to me, and a nice change. Eventually, we hit sealed roads again and made it into Moruya. As we crossed the bridge, we noticed a market happening on the riverbank, so we pulled in for a break. It was a good chance to stretch our legs, wander through the stalls, and grab some lunch. While we were there, a seaplane landed on the river—first time the kids had seen one up close, which added a bit of novelty to the stop.
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After lunch, we continued south to Mullimburra Point. I had hoped to check out Cathedral Rock, but access wasn’t really suitable for the kids, so we parked on the other side and walked down to Mullimburra Point Beach instead. It turned out to be a sheltered spot, good for swimming and exploring, and shared with only a couple of other families.
Once the others were settled, I ducked back over the headland to scout Cathedral Beach properly. I wanted to get a feel for the location and light—worth returning another time with camera gear in hand. I took a few quick shots and returned to the beach to rejoin the family.
After some time exploring the rocks with Joel, we packed up and headed for home, this time sticking to the Kings Highway. It was a straightforward return, rounding out a 370 km loop.
A good mix of familiar and new roads, with a quiet beach at the end—definitely a spot worth revisiting.

I had my eye on Bungonia for a while — more specifically, Christ Church, the old Anglican church perched on the edge of town. The forecast wasn’t exactly promising: cold, windy, and a slight chance of rain. But with the camera packed and a small window of time after school drop-off, I took a chance and hit the road.

The drive up the Federal Highway started bleak — low clouds, occasional rain, and not much sign of it lifting. I was starting to think I might be photographing mist and mood instead of sandstone and sun. But just past Goulburn, the clouds began to break apart and scatter, and the light started to shift. Things were looking up.
As I turned off onto Mountain Ash Road, I got my first glimpses of blue sky and a few golden breaks in the cloud. It was still misting here and there, but the light was changing — fast.
Driving into Bungonia for the first time, I passed St. Michael’s Catholic Church on the hill. Beautiful location, but not quite right for the time of day or year — I logged it as a "return later" spot. The rest of the town was a surprise. So many of the buildings carry their history proudly — the old 1882 Public School and former Police Station are now homes, but still marked with signs telling their stories. I could easily spend a day here just photographing heritage buildings alone.

At the far end of town, Christ Church finally came into view — a solid sandstone presence, slightly elevated, with views back over the township. The gate was closed but not locked. I slipped through, parked carefully, and took a moment to read the history sign before unpacking the gear.

While setting up the tripod, the break I’d been hoping for arrived — the clouds parted just enough to let a wash of sunlight hit the church façade. Warm light against cold stone. Exactly the contrast I’d come chasing.

I spent a solid hour working the angles — wide shots, close details, and a few different perspectives around the grounds. I even turned the camera toward the car, now wearing its new tyres — the light was too nice to pass up a quick automotive snap or two.
On the way home, I circled back to St. Michael’s. Took a few reference shots and captured the info signs. Based on the sun angle, it’s one for the warmer months — late spring or early summer should be perfect. I’ll be back.
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And here it is — the first images of the church from the shoot and a couple of the car. The light didn’t last long, but it arrived at just the right moment.

I was recently away on a two-week work trip. This trip started with me flying to Brisbane with a work compatriot, catching a taxi to Yamanto to meet up with two others and driving to Tenterfield for the first 5 days of working at Jennings.