Week 2: Robinvale to Gundagai (577km) + (162km)

Sunday 26 September: Balranald (84km)
Left Robinvale surrounded by thick fog and a slight head wind. Out on the highway, I passed the turn off to Mungo National Park, with 74km left to go. The shoulder was, at times, smooth and at other times rough with pot holes and sections gouged out. Parts of it had loose gravel and I had to keep removing fine stones from my tyres to avoid punctures or a tyre split. Lake Benanee was on my right. At 20km past the Robinvale turn off, Meilman rest area, a truck stop with a toilet appeared on my right. 5km ahead was Abbotts Tank rest area, also with a toilet, was on my left. Once again, most drivers were considerate and friendly. The stock carriers were as rude as usual, passing way too close even with a clear road. Only one stock driver gave me plenty of space. Some truck drivers gave me a volley of friendly toots, probably pleased that I got off the shoulder when two vehicles passed each other. It was quite warm today, with a cross head wind that kept changing directions as the road snaked left or right. It was mostly a southerly though, so I had to push hard to move forward with any speed. The shoulder disappeared altogether 30km from Balranald, then reappeared again, though very rough at times. I stopped at Prungle Mail rest area, 15km from Balranald and was disgusted to see that someone had left the remainder of a toilet roll as well as used crumpled sheets right next to the rest area. Obviously some people have a toilet in their kitchen! I arrived in Balranald early and had a phone interview with Star FM at Mildura after walking through the town and discovering that Balranald is the home of the Southern Bell Frog, an endangered species. There were frog statues all over the town. Ken and Robyn Griffiths at Balranald Motor Inn very kindly gave me a room for the night. I caught up on some emails (I had 35 emails in one day!), charged accessories and repacked my bag which seemed to weigh more than it did when I first left.
Monday 27 September: Hay (133km)
I had planned to take two days to get to Hay as I didn't feel strong enough for the 133km ride in one day. I was going to turn off to Maude, camp there for the night, then take the back road into Hay. This would mean no rest day until I reached Yass. However, once I left Balranald and crossed the Murumbidgee River, I realised that the wind direction was swinging from south to south westerly, so I was able to gear up for an easier ride. The Hay Plain is mostly flat (unlike the Nullarbor Plain) so I was able to average my speed at 15 km/hr, depending on the road surface. There was even a wide shoulder at times. Too often, though, the road was coarse aggregate. I'd reach speeds of 25 km/hr, then start ricketing along as though on cobblestones. Parts of the shoulder were merely piles of loose gravel or split sections of loose stones, with yellow marks for the Road Transport Authority to fix later (?!), so I could not afford to just sail along, like the guy on a bicycle in "The Great Escape". Motorists, truck drivers and even stock drivers gave me plenty of room and many gave me a friendly toot. By now, the truck drivers would have seen me a few times on the Sturt Highway, so their friendly toots were most welcome. I had two sandwiches, two apples, two oranges and two energy bars in my back pannier, and ate in small doses. The farmers' paddocks were a lush green indicator of recent rains. One farmer, David Groat of "Meringie" stopped to give me a donation and to tell me that he'd just heard me on Mildura's radio station.
I saw a rest area called Willowvale up ahead just past the turn off to Moulamein, but the rest area was obviously not named for its attributes but after the adjoining farm. There wasn't even a bench to sit on. I saw a few foxes jumping around in the fields and, sadly, a couple of spotted harriers had been hit by trucks. It's a pity that the foxes survived. I passed a property called "Hell's Gate". It didn't look very fiery but in summer this area would get very hot. When I reached St. Paul's rest area, I at least had a shelter to sit at. I reapplied sunscreen twice during the day and dotted the tea tree/rosemary oil insect repellent I had bought in Alice Springs. The flies and the thrips did not like this one bit. There was another rest area just past the turn off to Maude - on the left was for trucks and on the right was for motorists. I continued along the highway, my mind made up. To Hay I was going. Just before Pevensey rest area, I encountered road works but I did not have to wait for long. I ushered through the other drivers first, then ambled along behind, not quite reaching 40 km/hr! Pevensey rest area had a huge shelter. Although it was only 30km from Hay, a cyclist could easily pitch a tent in there, particularly if it was raining.
The last 30km to Hay was very uneventful. A few truck drivers gave me a huge thumbs up sign. What would they have done if they knew I have at times cycled up to nearly 200 km in one day? Not today, though. I passed the Shear Outback Museum just outside of Hay, then took the roundabout to the left, crossed the Murrumbidgee River for the second time that day and arrived in this gorgeous little town. People were waving from cars and trucks and a few pedestrians said' "G'day". Nicholas Royal Court Motel very kindly offered me accommodation and the Riverina Grazier phoned to ask me in for an interview tomorrow, so I decided to stay for a rest day on Tuesday and visit the Shear Outback Museum and the Railway Museum to find out about the Dunera Boys, the Italian, German, Austrian, Jewish and Japanese men interred at Hay during the mid-1940s. I received two donations that evening from a couple from Mildura and a man from Canberra.
Wednesday & Thursday 29 & 30 September: Narrandera (95km)
I had planned to reach Darlington Point today, a distance of 115km. Unlike Monday, the wind was back blowing in my face. The shoulder was as rough as usual, with sections churned up and other sections missing. I passed the turn off to Glencoe and some farms very generously supplied by rain over the last few months. I crossed Gum Creek which was overflowing and passed another sad roadside memorial. The wind was freezing and blowing wildly. I rested briefly at Mulberygong rest area and was ignored by a NSW registered Kombivan with its back windows covered with stickers. The occupants were finishing their coffee, then took off in an easterly direction, without so much as a wave. After a few minutes, I followed at a much slower pace. I passed the turn off to Carrathoul Bridge and some farms, including a place called Rudd's Point that had a sign warning people that they were not to enter the property without permission, then bumped along a rough section of road. Road works had recently been laid on the southern side of the road and cars passed me, covering my legs and tyres with loose stones. I noticed a few three corner jacks lodged in my front tyre and stopped to dislodge them before they could do any damage. I was only just over 20km from Darlington Point when I heard that ominous sound of my trailer tyre deflated. There was nowhere to lean the bike against so I pushed the bike to the 80km from Narrandera post where I leaned the bike to remove the trailer tyre. I had spare tubes for the bike but none for the trailer as I had only put a new trailer tube in prior to leaving Adelaide. With the wind howling, I couldn't locate the source of the leak so I had to flag down a van. Des Hodgson from Perth stopped and told me that he would give me a lift to Darlington Point or Narrandera. His gorgeous Doberman (Rex) was a real softie and kept licking off my sunscreen from my face and ears. When we arrived at the servo at the turn off to Darlington Point, it was obvious that they would not have a replacement tyre so we continued to Narrandera, my heart sinking because I knew that I would have to complete this section of the trip on my way home. (*See note at the end of this week's blog.) Des kindly dropped me off at Eurell's, the bike shop at Narrandera, where I was only charged $25 for two tubes and a replacement tyre, then I headed up a very steep hill to Lake Talbot Caravan Park, where I was due on Thursday. I was very kindly offered two nights' accommodation at this beautiful place. That night, I went to bed just after 7:30 and slept for 12 hours!
The next morning, I was to meet with Gerry Daley from Narrandera Council with my bike and trailer. I then visited the local newspaper office for an interview. The newspaper had already published two articles about me but wanted a face to face interview. I also met Peter Royal, a lovely farmer who had had a kidney transplant 11 years ago and was a picture of health, due to his now healthy lifestyle. I then visited the home of Bob & Bev Vidler. Bob was on home dialysis three times a week for 5 hours. The alternative would be a round trip to Griffith Hospital 3 times a week. Bob & Bev very kindly gave a donation, then I had to meet Peter at the community radio station for an interview with "Rusty" who, along with "Frog" gave a donation. I forgot to thank the lovely lady in the coffee shop next to the newspaper office. She made me a lovely cup of coffee and a tasty sandwich. I was looking forward to returning to Narrandera, "town of trees".

Friday 1 October: Wagga Wagga (101km)
I enjoyed the ride out of Narrandera as the scenery was very picturesque - and it was a huge downhill run from the caravan park. Once back out on the highway, I faced that wonderful cold head wind yet again. Curious Black Angus cows stared at me along the fence line as I passed, and I was curious at the name Poison Waterholes Creek. The water looked fresh and abundant but I would have to look into the history of its name. 85km from Wagga Wagga, a feisty old magpie feared by cyclists (I'm going to call him Mitch The Menace) started his harassing swoops for a distance of 3km. He has been known to sit on cyclists' shoulders and peck away, so I hunched up my shoulders, gave my demented eagle sound and yelled my throat hoarse until he finally gave up at the end of his territory. I passed a large number of roadside memorials once again on straight stretches of road. I also passed sections where rain had pooled into small dams and where ducks and egrets enjoyed a swim or digging for food. 56km from Wagga Wagga was a little hamlet called Galore and I stopped at the corner store for a hot coffee and a snack. I was now in Wiradjuri country, but the farms gave no indication of the original custodians. Road works were desperately needed along this stretch, particularly at Bullenbung Creek, another site of a roadside death. Up ahead, road works were taking place but the new road surface wasn't too bad. I stopped at Berry Jerry rest area for lunch, where council workers were pumping out the collection tank of the ablutions block. They looked cheerful enough but I didn't envy them their job, particularly when I ventured inside the toilet. It's hard to believe such disgusting smells come out of human beings! After stopping to chat with some people about my ride, I took off for the last 30km. The ride had been fairly flat but once I reached Collingullie, hills appeared from nowhere while the shoulder completely disappeared. At times, I had to dismount the bike and walk for my own safety as there was little room for me, a truck and another car. for the next 23km, I was playing Dodge while climbing some steep hills and descending fairly rapidly. During one descent, I was stung by a bee on the right thigh. When I reached Wagga Wagga, most of the traffic was considerate, but one truck deliberately cut me off at the traffic lights. I eventually arrived at East's Riverview Caravan Park, where the owners kindly gave me a budget cabin. Unfortunately, the previous occupant had smoked inside the cabin and it reeked of smoke, so the owners gave me some vanilla spray to douse the curtains and bedspread.

Saturday 2 October: Gundagai (81km)
I have become resigned to head winds now. As the saying goes, whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger. I certainly experienced that after nearly four weeks of battling northerly winds along the Stuart Highway and then finding strength in my legs as I tore up hills at 30km/hr in the West MacDonnell Ranges, with the wind on my tail. There's no escaping a cross head wind - it will get you while you are climbing, while you are descending, and cripple you on the flat. It is the most humbling experience. As I left Wagga Wagga and passed the RAAF base, rain was spitting and clouds were blackening. The wind had woken before me and its familiar howl rang around my ears all the way to Gundagai. Past the turn off to Tumbarumba, the hills started and the air was cooler. I passed an advertising billboard for a property called "The Heights" and the views were spectacular. Green rolling hills, brimming dams, contented cows and bulls grazing on lush grass - farmers couldn't be happier. The rest areas were very exposed and windy - mere truck stops. 50km from Gundagai, I enjoyed a flat section and large farmhouses with sweeping driveways for about 6km before once again climbing into the heavens. A huge climb to the Hume Highway, then hill after steep hill, with no respite from the powerful wind that wanted to rip me back to Wagga Wagga. The Hume Highway was a lot smoother (even the shoulder) and my tyres were able to pick up speed now that they weren't bumping over coarse aggregate. Signs indicating "Slope 11652" and counting down to zero appeared at every hill. On one descent, I was able to reach 40km/hr as the road had veered away from the wind. As I roared down the hill, a huge roo lay as road kill across the shoulder and I was lucky that the inside lane was clear for me to bump over the white rumble strips on to the road momentarily. After an exhausting (and freezing) ride, I arrived at Gundagai and the manager of the Sovereign Inn very generously donated an upstairs room. When I asked him about the road to Yass, a motor cyclist booking into a motel room said, "It's flat all the way to Yass, then downhill to Canberra." The following day, I was cursing every motorcyclist that passed me. Never trust a motorbike rider!
I went for a walk through the quaint little town that is steeped in history. It is also where the greatest natural disaster in Australia occurred when 78 people were drowned during floods. As I looked at houses deep in valleys or perched high on hills, I hoped that history would not repeat itself in this lovely little town.

*Monday 15 November (63km plus return, plus 36km round trip on Sunday)
I drove back to Darlington Point on the Sunday with my bike and rode the 20km - plus a return trip of 20km. Then on the Monday, I rode the 63km into Narrandera, then rode back to Darlington Point, a return trip of 126km. This was to ensure that this was completely unsupported.
On the Sunday afternoon, after driving from Adelaide, I parked at Yarada Rest Area which was 75km west of Narrandera. It was just a truck bay, with no facilities, unlike Birdseye Reserve Rest Area, 11km further back. That was an overnight area with tanks and a drop toilet, but this was no more than a simple truck bay with a water tank not connected to any shelter. I then set out for the ride to the Darlington Point turn off called Waddi. As it was getting late into the afternoon, I was glad that I only had to cycle 18km along the highway before turning around and heading back to the car. I had been warned about locusts but did not see any, although a few dragonflies hit my face as I rode. There had been so much rain over the last few weeks and the roadside was still fairly green. With the cross wind, it took me an hour and a half to cycle the 36km round trip. After reloading the car with the bike, I drove back along the road I had cycled and stayed at Darlington Point Caravan Park, alongside the Murrumbidgee River. The mosquitos were huge and seemed to resist all forms of personal bug spray, so a hike along the river wasn't an option.
The next morning, I took off over the bridge and through the town towards the Sturt Highway, passing the Waddi Roadhouse which is open for 24 hours. The Kidman Way to the right headed towards Coleambally and Jerilderie. Someone called Ron Clarke had some metal sculptures of animals (including a dancing brolga!) in a paddock next to the roadhouse. I crossed over the Coleambally Main Canal which was brimming with water and noticed bales of hay rolled up in the paddocks where only six weeks ago, there were green pastures. Tubbo Station, a huge agricultural concern, was on the right. I then passed Belvedere Farm and other smaller stations, before crossing Yanco Creek and rest areas on both sides of the road, both with a simple shelter and a couple of bins. There was a wide shoulder for most of the way, although the newer road surface was poorly laid. Past Gillenbah Station Road, there was a road to a Pet Motel, then Poison Waterholes Creek and Gillenbah Creek, both filled with water. As I reached the outskirts of Narrandera, a dilapidated ruin that was once a roadhouse was up for sale. I doubt if anyone would want to buy it as two roadhouses were only a stone's throw along the highway. I turned left on to Newell Highway and enjoyed a tail wind for the 3km ride into Narrandera, before turning around and heading back out of the town on to the Sturt Highway. Normally I dislike retracing my route on a bike but I found the scenery enjoyable. The only setback was that the locusts were now swarming. Hundreds were lying squashed on the road, a few more were being hunted by dragonflies and the rest were hitting me at an alarming rate. Thankfully, it only happened in 3 areas. On the way back, I realised that I was heading slightly downhill so, despite the wind from the south, I could pick up speed. After a 126 kilometre round trip, I had finally finished this stretch, arriving back at Darlington Point Caravan Park just after 3pm.