The Great Southern Country Ride

The road stretched out like a whisper across the vast, untamed canvas of Australia. For 30 days, 9 hours, and 59 minutes, Lachlan Morton rode through the quiet and chaotic embrace of this land he calls ‘home’—a journey that spanned 14,210 kilometers but felt infinitely larger, both within and around him. Each sunrise marked a new beginning, each kilometer another progressive metric into the depths of his own endurance, and each turn of the cranks became part of a story. A story that was never about another cycling FKT (Fastest Known Time). It was The Great Southern Country Adventure, and it etched itself not just into the record books, but into Lachlan’s soul.

For this journey, Lachlan was riding something different—something new. A bike straight from the LAB. Much of the ride was spent on a bike that blurred the lines between endurance and precision, built to carry Lachlan through punishing terrain, endless headwinds, and sunburnt roads. Along the way, he briefly switched to his trusted SuperSix EVO, a bike that had seen him through countless challenges. But as the journey pressed on, he returned to the original—drawn back to the feel and fit of the ride that had beautifully handled the volatility of the Great Country roads. 

Lachlan set out from his hometown, Port Macquarie, under the soft light of an early September morning. As his tires kissed the road, he knew this ride wasn’t just about breaking records. Australia had a way of speaking to him—the wide-open spaces, the relentless winds, the fierce beauty of a land that holds no mercy yet offers a deep and humbling grace. This ride would challenge his body, yes, but more so, it would test his spirit. “The sunrises in the north were something I’ll carry with me for a long time,” Lachlan reflected, the memory of those quiet dawns forever woven into the fabric of his journey.

He rode into the vastness of the outback, his rhythm unbroken by time or light: 450 kilometers a day, for 30 days straight. Often beginning in the dead of night, with stars still hanging overhead, Lachlan slipped into the darkness to escape the punishing afternoon heat. Through it all—the deepest nights, the blazing sun, pounding rain, and the winds that roared across the desert like something out of a dream. "Those big, long headwind days were what I feared the most," Lachlan admitted. “Sixteen, seventeen hours of riding straight into it, knowing that nothing’s going to change. But you keep trucking your way into it.” 

The road didn’t just challenge his resolve—it recalibrated his perspective. There were moments when the solitude pressed in, when the endless stretches of asphalt seemed to blur into the horizon. The isolation burned as fiercely as the heat, pulling Lachlan’s mind into the void. “You lose track of time, of distance,” he said. “And all that’s left is the moment you’re in.” It was in these quiet spaces, where the land seemed to stretch forever and the silence wrapped around him, that Lachlan found his true pace. 

And then there were the moments of unexpected, yet fleeting serenity. A near collision with a kangaroo in the first week. The magpies that dive-bombed him, like sentinels guarding the endless expanse of sky. Yet even in the hardest hours, the road gave Lachlan gifts—small moments of beauty that reminded him why he was there.

He wasn’t alone, not really. His crew—his wife Rachel, brother Angus, mechanic Tom Hopper, and a handful of close friends—followed him across the continent, ready with food, clean clothes, and quiet words of encouragement. "I’m the first to admit, without Tom, I’d be in big trouble," Lachlan said, laughing softly, but there was truth in his words. This ride may have been his, but it was their collective effort that kept him moving forward. “We’ve been on so many adventures together,” Lachlan said of his team, “and each one brings us closer. They understand me in ways few others do.”

And then, after more than a month on the road, Lachlan rode back into Port Macquarie. It wasn’t just a finish—it was a homecoming. He passed by the house he grew up in, his heart heavy with memories. “It brought back so many emotions,” he said, reflecting on the roads that had once been his training ground, now transformed by the weight of this incredible journey. "Seeing lifelong friends come out, and new faces who had followed my journey, was something I’ll never forget"

Thirty days, 9 hours, and 59 minutes. Fourteen thousand, two hundred kilometers. An average of 450 kilometers a day, with up to 18 hours in the saddle each day. But for Lachlan, The Great Southern Country Adventure wasn’t just another wild idea to break another record. It was about a journey into the heart of a land as fierce as it is beautiful. About the lessons the road teaches, the thoughts sparked in the darkest of moments. Reacquainting himself with the resilience required to keep going when every muscle wants to quit, and the beauty of riding into the unknown—where resolve gives way to renewal. 

For now, Lachlan is home, the enormity of what he has accomplished only just beginning to sink in. But as the dust settles, a vivid tale appears. A journey of heart, of connection, and of the quiet, powerful lessons the road gives to those willing to listen.