In July this year, Barry Simpson made his third trip across the Simpson Desert on a quad bike in an epic fundraising adventure for the Westpac Rescue Helicopter Service. Barry shared his story of life on and off wheels with Sara Browne.

I honestly didn’t know what I wanted to do when I grew up. Even if you ask me now. I grew up on a dairy farm in the Hunter Valley area. It’s all coal mining down there now, has been for a long time. Dad sold the farm at the end of my primary school days and bought property at Jiggi and I went to high school here at Richmond River.

Young blokes at that age, your focus changes, towards girls and all that sort of thing. I left school in 1971 and even then, finding work was hard.

I always worked on the farm but not in a fulltime capacity. Dad came home from New Guinea after WW2 and set up the dairy farm down south in 1946 and milked cows til 1967. When you’re milking cows it’s 24/7, there’s no time off, milking and feeding and growing different pastures to get through the winter months. When he bought the place at Jiggi it was beef cattle so he got some time off. You’re not into the ritual of twice a day getting cows into the yard and milking.

I used to have four brothers, I’ve got three now. My eldest brother was a bit of a black sheep in the family, chronic alcoholic and heavy smoker. I’m the fourth of five.

I had a couple of different jobs after school, it wasn’t easy to get straight into an apprenticeship. There was a fabrication place over in South Lismore that made aluminium windows, I managed to stick that out for a while. Then I managed to anchor an apprenticeship with Robert and Brown in joinery. It wasn’t really me. Basically, from there I joined the PMG – Post Master General – I did a linesman’s course – laying cables in the street into businesses or houses. I did all that in Sydney. I still wasn’t quite happy doing that. Then I saw an opening in the government gazette, still within Telecom as it was called in those days, as a draftsman. And I knew that’s what I wanted to do. I used to love drawing.

I used to draw as a kid. I wasn’t any good at it although people would see it and say geez that’s alright. But not to me, I was always trying to improve it and make it better.

When I saw the position to do the drafting course I thought yes. I spent a few years doing that and I was very fortunate that there was a young lady in Lismore with the same company who wanted to move to Sydney so we did a swap in positions.

Barry aged 25, eight days before a life-changing accident 

So, then I was back home doing what I wanted to do and I loved it. Sydney wasn’t my scene. I’m a country boy. I’d rather have cow shit between my toes.

That entailed drawing and detailing all the underground cables. Our area covered Lismore and Kyogle, urban and rural areas for Telecom. I was in awe of technicians. It was a lot longer and more difficult course, whereas we were the baggy-arsed lineys.

In the 70s there was partying and drinking and all that sort of stuff, within reason of course. I wasn’t really into settling down but you can’t be 18 forever.

I met my wife in a social atmosphere. She was from Mullumbimby, her parents were Italian immigrants. When she first went to primary school, she couldn’t speak English. We’ve been separated for the last several years but it’s all amicable. We have an almost 27-year-old daughter who’s six months pregnant so first grandchild. My daughter is a hairdresser here in town. I was 39 when I became a dad.

I had my 26th birthday in Princess Alexandra Hospital in Brisbane then came back to Lismore Base the day after.

The accident was on the Kyogle Road near the old brewery site which is now Hurfords. If you can imagine the Rock Valley turn off, I was coming from Jiggi area, you turn onto the Kyogle Road and you’ve got a series of bends and then the last is a right bend onto a long straight. I’ve come through the bend and a car was coming towards me and I’m thinking - turn your lights down mate. It was a sweeping left-hand corner for him but he just went straight ahead. I was edging towards the side of the road but really don’t remember much after that.

He clipped the handlebar just by 50mm. 50mm away and he would have missed me. But then 50mm the other way and he probably would have torn me in half. He was driving a Toyota Hilux four-wheel drive with a bullbar on the front and my arm went through the bullbar. And it severed it, quite cleanly, through the middle of the forearm.

Because of the impact that had, it dislocated my shoulder that bad that when I was first admitted to the Base, the surgeon grabbed the stump – just mincemeat – and reallocated it. At least you’ll have something to hang your coat on were his words.

I can remember the headlights and sort of remember laying on the ground. That driver had been to the pub and he was heading home. It was eight o’clock at night, he’d been at the pub since lunchtime. Some witnesses that were good friends of mine were at the pub too. He had a skinful.

Bob picked me up, he was on his way home. The car overtook him, it was all over the road and driving flat out. Bob thought there were cows on the road. Ironically a bloke I went to school with got killed on the same corner, hit a cow and went over the handlebars.

Bob slowed down and was looking out for cows, no cows. He saw the car turn off onto Rosehill Rd towards Cawongla Rd and it was stopping and starting and then he saw my bike propped up against the fence.

The bike never crashed. The car tore me off it but it kept going and going then hit a fence post and fell against the fence and broke the headlight. My mate pulled over and could feel the heat coming off it because it was a big bike, a Kawasaki 1000cc thing, they generate a lot of heat. Then he heard me, he tells me the same story, I was yelling out, ‘that f@#*ing bastard just hit me.’

I have no recollection of that but it was dark obviously, and he said ‘you alright mate?’ And I said ‘my right arms a bit sore.’

At that stage, my mate didn’t know the extent of the injuries. Then he said he fell down on the ground and collapsed in shock. Another car pulled up, threw a blanket over me, no mobile phones back then. He went straight back into town, he had some friends at South Lismore and called the ambulance. Police came and my mate Bob said how is he? And the policeman said, he’s had his right arm amputated. Bob sat there for half an hour, he couldn’t drive home.

It was road ambulance to Brisbane that night to Princess Alexandra. The helicopter didn’t operate til 12 months later. I can remember bits and pieces. The surgeon was Nugent Brand, wonderful man, he’s passed away now. He was the one that pulled my shoulder straight. Mum and Dad got called in. I can remember saying don’t worry, I’m still alive.

I can remember some of the trip up, there was a doctor in the back and I said mate, what personal belongings have I got with me? And he said everything you came with, you’re all bundled up round here (shoulder), and I said it’s off, isn’t it? And he said yep.

The next morning, I’d come around after surgery, it was October 27th so it will be 40 years next week. I remember there was a nurse putting ice to my mouth and she asked do you know where you are? And I said yeah, I’m in hospital in Brisbane. She said do you know what happened? And I said yeah, some f*#!kwit ran over me last night and cut my arm off. She said wow.

It was just basically recovery after that. I was up there for a week then I got transferred back to the Base. I spent the next six months as an outpatient at St Vincents doing physio to get the movement back. I had what is called a fused operation. I can move it backwards and forwards a bit. I did have a prosthesis made up but it was useless as tits on a bull. I can still feel all my fingers on my right hand, 40 years later.

I’ve learnt to live with it. You know what its like when you hit your funny bone. That happened a lot. Phantom pain was starting to bother me a bit. There was an anesthetist that I used to go and see and he put me on some drugs and said if you feel they’re doing your head in, get off them, so I did. He said that the more horrific the amputation, the worse the phantom pain. If it was surgically removed, the phantom pain wouldn’t be nearly as strong.

It was a hit and run but there was a bloke who identified the vehicle. The driver lived just round the corner from my Mum and Dad’s where I was living at the time. With the job I had, we’d spend weeks out in the field measuring cable lines, so I wasn’t committed to my own house at the time.

He had about half a dozen charges put on him. It took a long time before it got to court. It only made it to a committal hearing, they said there was insufficient evidence. It was left swinging.

The drawing office for the drafting section was above Mathers Arcade on Woodlark Street. Obviously, my career was shot. I was right-handed and still am. There was an engineering section round on Carrington Street. I was off work close to a year. Computers were starting to become a thing and I worked with one of the engineers who was a mate, also into bikes. We tried a ruler with a paperclip on each end to use the keyboard. But it wasn’t me. I didn’t want that. I said just make me medically unfit for the job. They said what are you going to do Barry? I said there’s a compensation case looming for me, I’ll do my own thing. I had my day in court and went back farming again, beef cattle.

That’s how I found quadbikes. They were very simple utility quads then. I had my own property which was 100 acres but the more birthdays I had, the harder it was, it was a bit much. I was there for 10 years out at Leycester. Once my daughter was born, we bought a five-acre block.

Barry in race mode at the Gold Coast, 2001

So, I got my Kawasaki road bike home and all I did was fix the handlebars and put another headlight on, made a few adjustments here and there with throttle and brake, left hand controls.

I got on the motorbike and I rode it down the road and I saw 220 kilometres an hour on the speedo and I thought woah. Anyway, I parked it in the shed and it fell over and I couldn’t pick it up. So that was the end of that.

In 1992 I read an article about a proper performance Yamaha quad bike, very powerful, called a Banshee. They’re designed for a non-paved surface. I knew there was a local flat track at Ballina, it’s all about sliding and drifting. I used to go down there once a month on their practice days and I had a ball. I did that for 10 years. I’d also visited a track up at Labrador, it was a hoot.

I got a phone call one day from a pommie guy and he said are you Barry Simpson? I believe you’ve got a Banshee. I said yeah. Would you be interested in competition? I said yeah why not.

When he met me – I hadn’t told him about my arm – I said I won’t be able to keep up but I’ll just follow you fellas around. He won the race and I came second. He was an ex British sidecar champion. He could sell sand to an Arab.

We did that for years, he would organize races throughout SE Queensland. Then in 2002 the Australian Titles was on in Ballina, the best riders in Australia for a national meeting. He won the event, another bloke just beat me for second and I got third. Got a write up in the Northern Star and it was on NBN. They came out to my place and did an interview, I wondered what all the fuss was about. We’re here for a good time, not a long time.

The flat track at Ballina closed down, it was right near the airport. Flat track was a dying thing, a lot of kids wanted to do motorcross riding. I was in a bike shop one day and on the counter was a flyer for an organized bush ride at Woodenbong. The blokes that ran that event organized a ride from Cairns to Cape York and back each year and they said come with us, we’re going in a few weeks. I needed to get ready – mentally, physically, financially.

In 2008 I did that trip, the Cape in 08, 3000 ks. I flew to Cairns and got the bike trucked up. Four days to the Cape, a couple of days there, then five days back. You have to supply your own fuel and beer. I was already 53 or thereabouts. I was on a sport quad then, my first long distance ride. It was a 700cc Yamaha single, rear wheel drive only. It was a bar room stool. What I ride now are big four-wheel drive bikes, they’re lounge chairs.

On the second last day on the way back I got thrown over the handle bars, hit a big pile of bulldust on an open road. The bike pulled up just before it hit me. I broke four ribs. I came home from that and went straight to my surgeon and within two weeks I was under the knife for left shoulder reconstruction. He was a car racing enthusiast too the surgeon so we could talk.

2012 I took the same bike to Tassie for a quad adventure, a small group of eight. Then I heard about the Simpson Desert trip. 2013 I got a trailer built, took my nephew and two of his mates and drove to Birdsville. We left the trailer there and then rode about halfway across the desert. It was bloody hot, the end of August, the Birdsville Races were on.

July 2021

Then in 2015 I went with a mate, we drove from the Gold Coast out to Birdsville, across to Poeppel’s Corner then north up the Hay River track all the way to the Penny Highway and then to Alice Springs. We then got to Mount Dare which is the western side of the desert where there’s just a pub and a shed. One of the rider’s had a big one there, just 10 ks to go, did his tibia and fibula.

I only took my other half with me to a race once. It’s fast. I’ve seen a quad bike do a loop right in front of me and it wasn’t pretty – ribs, collar bone, ambulance.

I haven’t been in competition since 2005. A night’s racing is a rhythm. You’ve got to be ready three or four races before. Flat track and speedway is all laps, if you’re not ready, you don’t go.

 Someone had said to me if you’re riding through the desert, it’s a good way to raise some money for charity but I thought, who do I raise money for? I’m not really interested in church stuff. My Dad was a returned soldier, he was in the Royal Australian Airforce. Then I thought the helicopter rescue service would be a good thing to get involved with. I met with John Bancroft the liaison officer and said how do we go about raising funds? I’m not a salesman. But after a desert trip I put my hand up and said - I’m going to be a volunteer.

We do the sausage sizzle at Dan Murphy’s every Friday. It’s back on this week. It’s worth $500 every Friday, for 10 months of the year, that’s 20 grand. I’ve seen the development with a lot more volunteers coming in.

I said to John a few months back I’m going out to the desert in July, let’s get serious about making some money. He said, have you heard of GoFundMe? I said yep. I parked the bike at Lismore Central back in June, raised $300 that day. Everyone thought it was a raffle. I had it really cleaned up for the photo shoot out at the heli base the day before. My desert riding fund raised $1600. I’m proud of that and I sincerely thank the people who donated.

I had to go to Sydney a few times back then to be analysed by different doctors, for mental reasons, to look inside my head, do a profile. On a few of those reports that I read, one word kept coming up. I had to go look it up in the dictionary – it was resilience.

There was only two ways to look at. You either stick your head in the sand and feel sorry for yourself or just get on with life. I’ve had my moments but it could have been a lot worse, like with a head injury and someone has to spoon-feed you. I watched both my Mum and Dad after they’d had strokes in their later years. I’m fortunate.

I’m into brewing bourbon at the moment. And it’s good too.

It’s a right-handed world. It is what it is. Just get over whatever it is as quick as you can because the time that you spend being pissed off – you don’t get that time back. I’ll have my 66th birthday in a couple of weeks, there’s not a lot of them left. And that desert still beckons for another crossing.