May 6, 2019
When you drive in Ontario seeing a deer along side of the road is a fairly common sight. Folks may give them a glance but no one stops to gawk. A moose trots out and it is a different story while a roadside bear tends to bring out the stupid in some folks. Here in Australia, seeing a kangaroo is in the same category as seeing a deer at home, but not for me. Sure, I’ve seen them in zoos and on television but the sight of a kangaroo in its natural environment would be a first for me. On the drive from Adelaide to Port Augusta there were none to be seen. The same was true of of my first day’s ride. Well that is not exactly true. I did see four F.O.R.D.s (found on the road dead) kangaroos but I figured road kills do not count. Today was different.
Today the big footed hoppers were everywhere: Crossing the highway, hopping through the bush lands, leaping between the pines in the forested areas, they were everywhere. Unfortunately they seem to dislike photographers. In each and every instance they manage to skip over yonder hill before I could stop and get my camera out. At one point I had a perfect opportunity. The kangaroo was busy eating whatever kangaroos eat and did not notice me brake slowly to a stop with a tree between me and him. I zipped open my bike bag and was in the process of extracting my camera when the first car zipped by causing Mr. Roo to raise his head and look in my direction. The second car sent him hopping before the camera could be turned on. Unless I wanted a parting shot of the southbound end of a northbound kangaroo heading off into the sunset, I was done. There will be others.
The ride was a long 120 km affair over varied terrain. The scenery ranged from arid desert to pine forest in the hills. There was a bit of climbing but the route was mostly rolling hills with a steady diet of dips for the frequent flood-wash zones. Good biking weather for the most part but with a gradual chill that crept in as I neared the park where we were spending the night.
Dinner was a chilly, outdoor affair and few of us lingered around. Most of us sought the warmth of our sleeping bags. There was ice cream for dessert but few takers.
The (Head) Wind Swept Hills of the Flinder’s Range
May 7, 2019
I awoke to the sound of the wind rustling the roof of my tent. It was a strong wind since it clearly woke me up despite my ear plugs still being inserted. The good news was that my tent would be dry of dew and easy to pack away cleanly. The bad news was that it was coming out of the north and north was our direction for travel this day. As they say here, “no worries.”
It was a truly beautiful morning. Bright sun and spectacular countryside. Unfortunately, there were strong winds with gale force gusts that require constant attention lest my bike be blown into the middle of the road or onto the shoulder. Mostly it required a head down grind, especially when it seemed to hit with greatest force just as I reached the steepest part of a climb. What should have been a highlight of the trip quickly became something to be endured.
Still, I have learned to take what enjoyment is offered where I can find it and there were times when the wind eased off a bit and I could enjoy the spectacular scenery. There were wide vistas accented by sharp mountain peaks in the distance. Gradually we climbed into passes between those peaks as the road followed natural erosion patterns to take the easiest route. Along the way was a massive rock formation known as the Great Wall of China. Obviously, it is a much truncated version. The climbs became longer and steeper as the day progressed ending in Blinman, the highest settlement in South Australia where we had lunch. This was followed by a 15 km gravel grind on a heavily wash-boarded, bone breaking road to our camp at Angorichina Village where we spent the next day exploring the local sights. Dinner that night was at a pub back in Blinman. Thankfully, we travelled by bus.
Layover Day in Angorichina Village
May 8, 2019
Today was our first rest day. A day to sort things out, clean up the bikes and give the legs a bit of rest. It started with a leisurely awakening and a nice hot breakfast followed by some time to go over my gear. Plenty of time to clean up my bike, tighten anything that rattled loose yesterday and do a bit of reading. After lunch we were on the bus for a short excursion back to Blinman and a tour of the Blinman Copper Mine.
The mine ceased operation many years ago and once employed around 1500 workers. Many of these were lured from Cornwall with promises of steady wages and permanent work. Their skill as hard rock miners was what was need for the hard rocky soil. The company paid for their passage as well as that of their extended families. Conditions were harsh, the climate colder than they were used to and the wages low. For those 1500 workers there were only 90 homes ever built. Most lived wherever they could, some carving out hovels in the banks of the dry wash. Despite the hard life the mine was relatively safe compared with other of that era with only 12 deaths due to mine accidents. Of course other illnesses related to poor diet, long days spent in a poor environment and infections claimed many more.
Tomorrow we were back on the road with another long riding day. Hard as it may be, it would be easier than any day working in the mine.
A Windy Day With Rain
May 9, 2019
The tent roof rustled foreboding something nasty coming our way. After nearly perfect weather on our rest day it seemed as though our next riding day would test our determination. The sky was overcast and despite Ralph’s optimistic musings that the wind was nothing more than the morning breeze, I asked Mother Nature to blow her breezes from a favourable direction. Mother Nature responded that she was not taking requests at this time but to please try again later.
By 8:00am we were off onto 17 kms of rough dirt and gravel road with the usual wash-boarding. Thankfully it was mostly down hill. The wind was mostly in our faces but not overly strong. At Parachilna the promised hotel and bar was closed and the wind was kicking up to gale force and better. The direction was directly into our faces as we left the gravel for the black top highway. As we rode the wind increased and the rain began to fall. In the arid landscape that rain was much needed with over 29 days since rain had last fallen. I could not begrudge the landscape this needed drink. However I could have done without the horizontal rain that blasted across the highway nearly making it impossible to keep my bike upright. Fortunately, this was only for a brief period.
My Australian friends have a custom that I was very grateful for on that windswept and rainy day. It is called Morning Tea and is much like a Hobbit’s second breakfast. Our bus was parked on a side road about 30 kms into the ride with hot tea, coffee and double chocolate Tim-Tam cookies. I drank my fill and filled my fuel reserves with these offerings and headed back into the tempest.
About an hour or so afterwards Mother Nature decided to accept requests and generously shifted the wind, first to slightly abaft my beam and eventually to a full on tail wind. The rain continued but now I could travel with greater ease and speed. The remaining kilometres flew by. Along the way I passed over the tracks of the Marree and Port Augusta Railway. This line once carried coal mined in Marree to the power plants in Port Augusta. With coal fired generation coming to an end so did the mines and the railway as well.
Our stopping point was Leigh Creek and my first stop was at the bar and grill for a hot cup of coffee. When I arrived at the caravan park the aspect of pitching my tent on the soaked and muddy dirt was not too appealing. One of my travelling companions, Paul was of the same mind and we joined up to rent a room for the night. The warm shower and plentiful heat was well worth the extra cost. Tomorrow promises to be a dry and lovely day for our ride.