21/10/2011
After a really bad nights sleep, I wasn’t looking forward to today. If I
wanted to get to Tarnagulla today, I was looking at over 900km today. My back
was aching and I didn’t sleep very well due to the cold. According to the caravan park manager, it got
down to about 1 degree last night..funny, it was 12 degrees the night before. I
slowly got out of bed, stood under a hot shower to ease my back, pack up the
bike and hit the road…once again at 8:00am, not the planned 7:00am. Not my fault this time, I’m blaming Daylight
Savings (I forgot to move my clock forward, so my alarm went off an hour later
than it should have).
Leaving the caravan park, I headed straight to the local bakery to fuel
myself. Tires and baggage checked, and
it’s off to Gilgandra.
Once again, grain crops and scrub to keep me company. The ride into Gilgandra was uneventful and
before I realised it, it was time to fuel the bike and top up my drink supply.
It was only 9:00 and already it was getting warm. Back on the road and after a
few minutes I pulled over because the bike was making a lot more noise than before
I stopped. I gave the bike the once over and everything seems fine. Another
20km later and I pulled over again…it was going to be one of those days. This
time it finally dawned on me…I’d left my ear plugs at Gilgandra, no wonder I
was hearing things I hadn’t heard before. A quick search through my bags and no
spare plugs to be found, I’m sure I packed them. Oh well, too late now, so it’s
onwards and southwards.
Cruising into Dubbo, my day was already shot, so todays going to be a
tourist day. A quick detour to the Western Plains Zoo for a coffee overlooking
the Ring Tailed Lemurs, then back on the road for one of the two things I
really wanted to do on this trip – detour to The Dish, north of Parkes.
Dish sighted on my left, turnoff located and it’s a quick five minute
ride to the carpark. While approaching
the access road, I crashed through a swarm of bees that decided to hover about
3 feet above the ground. Lots of bees
died that day. When I arrived at the
carpark, I checked myself for stingers and bodies stuck in my clothing.
Cleaning done, it’s inside for a quick look, take the mandatory photos and back
on the road, slowing down as I approached the bee swarm.
Back onto the Newell, it’s into Parkes for a feed and refuel. My back was
really playing up and the heat was starting to get to me. What should have been
a 15 minute break stretched into 45 minutes.
Reluctantly, I got back on the bike and for the first time, I started to
think this ride was not the best idea I’ve ever had. I’d only done about 250km
in over 4 hours and there was no way I was going to do any decent distance
today.
I struggled along, passing grey nomads every few minutes – it must be
migration season, the roads are full of them.
About 50km from West Wyalong, my vision started playing up. The heat was
unbearable and I contemplated removing my riding gear and just riding in jeans
and a t-shirt. I pulled over in the shade and lay down, drinking the last of my
supply. Here I was, 50km from a town,
out of drinks and feeling the effects of the heat. After a short while, I crawled back on the
bike and slowly made my way to West Wyalong, stopping occasionally to clear my
head. I finally reached West Wyalong at
2:30pm, found the nearest pub and went in for a long, cold drink in the air-conditioning. It must have been hot, even the locals were
complaining about how hot it was (I later found out it was about 35 degrees at
midday and got hotter after that.) That
was that, I decided my riding for the day was over. I checked into the local
caravan park, set up the tent and headed back to the pub until it cooled down
outside.
Back at the caravan park, I ran into a park resident, George, who’d
recently arrived from NZ. George is a
six foot four, 120kg Kiwi, covered in tribal tatts. He recently moved out here
to drive B-Double trucks for the local chicken farm. We talked for a while and
as he didn’t know anyone in town, we ended up at the pub watching the rugby, me
supporting the Aussie, him supporting the Welsh.
A
great night was had, and maybe one beer too many and it turns out the day
wasn’t a total loss – the Aussie beat the Welsh.
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