The Cycling Adventurer

   Perth-Adelaide 1997

Day 13   

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The Nullarbor flat and boring? You must be joking!

I am lying in my tent, the flap open, but the mosquito net in place. I am looking at a fire of tinder-dry mallee branches and a big mallee root.

There is almost enough light from the fire to write this without the torch. I have been careful to clear a wide circle around the fire site, and to scrape a hollow in the ground in which to build it. Fortunately, the ground is red sand, so it was only a matter of scooping out the hollow with my shoe.

I am about 40 metres off the road, which means I can hear trucks throughout the night. But I am reluctant to go further off the road because of the risk of running over double-g seeds with the tyres. I have been extremely lucky to not have any punctures and I don't want to court fate.

I was on the road from the Norseman Caravan Park at 7.45am, a significant record for me! The couple in the nextdoor tent said last night they wanted to be on the road at 6.30am, but they, too, were late getting away. The noise of their packing up did encourage me out of bed. The guys on the motorcycles also made an early move. They were on their way to Phillip Island off the south-eastern Victorian coast for next weekend's Australian Motorcycle Grand Prix. Two of the guys had the latest Triumphs from England, and the third was on a Honda. The eldest of the three asked what I was doing, and he seemed impressed.

The exchange set the trend for the rest of the morning whenever I came across other people. The woman nextdoor also asked me what I was doing, and we talked about the journey she and her husband had done around Australian in a Toyota Forerunner, and how they enjoyed, in fact preferred, to stay in their tent each night. "I just love it," she said.

Then when I stopped on the way out to fill my water bottles at the ablutions block, I was buttonholed by two retired guys who talked for about 10 minutes on cycling, the journey, and other travellers they had seen on bicycles. One told me he had come across from the east on the Eyre Highway 20 years ago when the road was not sealed.

They also clarified my impression of Japanese riders of motorcycles along the Indian-Pacific railway line. They ride on the service road that runs parallel with the line. One guy said he had a mate who did the trip in a four-wheel-drive doing "only" 250km a day because of the rough surface.

When I returned to my tent, another neighbour, a retired guy driving a tiny Toyota sedan, said he had done the round trip through the north-west, and had come across a few cyclists. He was particularly enthusiastic about his fuel consumption, at 45-50km a litre, achieved by sitting on a cruising speed of 80km/h.

When I left the caravan park, I found my way out of town and to my disappointment, straight into a headwind of about 15km/h. That put a dampener on my jubilation at an early start, a cool morning and a clear sky. The climb out of Norseman was something else that dulled the glow, and my visions of a 20km/h average evaporated. There have been quite a few steady climbs since Norseman, and I think I have almost finished with them. I ended the day's ride by coming through the Fraser Range, which was another three climbs and descents. And people told me the Eyre Highway was flat and boring!

I finished riding at 5.00pm, and that gave me a daily average speed of 13km/h. I did nudge 15km/h early on. The day did get warm, and I think the predicted 30 deg C maximum was achieved. I had some extra breaks after lunch, My knees are still sore, and I did not want to overdo things in the heat. I took about an hour off from 2.00pm after pulling into a rest area.

I was passed earlier by two campervans from Tasmania, and one of them was in the rest area. The couple offered me tea or coffee even before I had pulled up at the van. Joyce and Mort Denwer, of Lindisfarne, a suburb of Hobart, have taken quite a few cyclists under their wing in their travels all over Australia. These included an American couple, he a journalist from Massachusetts. Mort remember him in particular because of the street number where the guy lived, 5943½!

The Denwers also welcomed a Swiss cycling couple who visited Tasmania. Mort taught scripture for many years, and that probably accounted for his friendliness. The couple have spent their retirement travelling Australia in their campervan. This was their sixth trip. Their children are in a quandary, believing their parents are too old to be doing that sort of thing. The Denwers seem to be happy doing what they are doing, and good luck to them.

They departed after I finished my coffee, and I went to see how a couple with a caravan further along the rest area were doing as they changed a rear wheel on their car. He had suffered heart problems after they started a round-Australia journey from their home in Adelaide. The holiday was interrupted while he returned from Darwin to have an angioplasty in Adelaide. Now the symptoms have returned and they are on the way home for more treatment. Oddly, I did not see them again today, so I hope nothing serious happened after I left them.

Meeting people has been a highlight of this trip so far. All have been delightful and have given me some wonderful memories.

The condition of the road for about 50km out of Norseman was very good, with a new surface and wide shoulders. But it then deteriorated into a narrow strip of bitumen with no shoulders, and often no edge line. Roadtrains that passed in the opposite direction tended to dip their left tyres into the gravel verge, and send up a cloud of dust.

On the whole, all road travellers have been very good, although the driver of an occasional interstate car has shown some impetuosity. A lot of motorcycles have gone past, obviously headed for the grand prix, and most honked or waved. I gather from the comments I have heard that while quite a few people are cycling across the Eyre Highway, we are held in high regard for having the courage and stamina to undertake such an adventure. That makes me feel good!

I had another day of an extraordinary number of what I call "three-way passes", when two cars travelling in the opposite directions pass right where I am riding. I would have thought that in a country of Australia's size, these would be rare in a remote location like this. But I experienced about 20 today, and about half were at the top of crests! Pulling off to the gravel verge was the only option after the road deteriorated.

The Eyre Highway has emergency telephones at intervals between the settlements. The first one I saw was about quarter distance between Norseman and Balladonia.

The phones are primarily for people who have mechanical problems with their vehicles; they are connected directly to an RAC-accredited service station. They are not public telephones. Even so, it is comforting to know that they exist.

One of the things still impeding my progress is getting used to the new seat position.

 
These are emergency telephones that are placed at regular intervals along the Eyre Highway.

Chafe is no longer a problem, In fact, rubbing antiseptic cream on the affected area has helped to quell the fire of the abrasions. The muscles on my backside are now complaining. I think the seat also is slightly off-centre. This may account for my left knee rubbing occasionally against the top tube, and my right knee hitting my elbow when I am down on the aerobars. The bumpiness of the road has added to the irritation.

Overall, I think today's progress was good under the circumstances. I feel as though I am covered in dust after I encountered all the clouds thrown up by the road trains, so I'll swab down the important bits, face, groin and backside, with a moist towelette before going to sleep.

This is emu country, and I have seen four today. I saw the first one early in the day when it ran alongside me before it turned and made off into the scrub. I saw a pair when I stopped at the rest area, and I saw another about 15km later that raced me for about 300 metres on the right side of the road. It dodged low branches and loped over holes and culverts before it became bored with the race, and veered off into the bush, too. I am only worried if one changes course and heads for me! These big birds are reputed to be able to inflict serious injuries with the big toes on their feet, and they may be protecting young chicks, like the magpies that have attacked me.

The countryside is dry, but there is water lying in some areas. In the hills, green grass adds a pleasing effect at ground level. The Fraser Range Station appears to be in reasonable nick, although that is to be expected if the rainfall has been as good here as down south. No, this is not desert country, at least at the moment. It might turn brown and sandy quickly in hot, dry weather, though.

I have been lucky to travel across the country now. It is a bit like a lottery getting it right, but circumstances seemed to have worked in my favour. The weather is good for cycling, the rain has encouraged the wildflowers to blossom even out here, the traffic has not been too bad, and there are quite a few things to keep me interested.

Flocks of finches and budgerigars have been other features in the morning and late afternoon. The few crows I have seen are not quite as sleek and arrogantly majestic as their cousins further to the south and west, probably because the roadkill rate has declined.

My water supply appears to be okay, and I will get to Balladonia without any trouble. I recall someone in Perth said that the roadhouses have showers for the truck drivers, and charge about $3 per use. I figure that if they are gas-heated, and I can take as long as I like and get my money's worth, the $3 is more than offset by the savings in caravan park or hotel or hostel tariffs. I will need a shower at lunchtime tomorrow when I get to Balladonia because of the dust.

I seem to have got a thorn in the heel of my left hand, about the same spot where the numbness starts and extends into my fingers. I only noticed it last night and it seemed fine, but it has become redder today. I will check tomorrow morning and may use a needle and tweezers to get it out.

It pays to keep an eye on these sorts of injuries so they don't get out of hand. Apart from my sore knees and the occasional twinge from my left elbow when I have had it straight for extended periods and then bend it, I feel good physically. The variation in the positions for my hands while riding has been a revelation and has gone some way to relieving the pain in my butt.

The one thing I really regret about all this is that I don't have anyone to share the experiences. I mean someone to whom I am close, such as my children or a partner. I hope that I can get out on expeditions of some sort on bikes with the kids when I get back to Tasmania. Campfires, tents, getting from A to B in a healthy way... I really do love this. Ask me in a month's time after spending so long in a sleeping bag and a tent, and I might give a different opinion. I don't think so, though.

Of more immediate note is that I have about 73km left to Balladonia. Depending on what time I get going tomorrow, I should arrive there about 12.30pm. After a shower and telephoning my father about some job applications, I'll try to do another 60km before calling it a day. I then should be only a day out of Caiguna, just under half way to the border with South Australia. I consider riding half way from Norseman in three days to be good going. I hope for tailwinds at some stage, after paying penance in advance today.

I have just finished the remainder of the ham I bought yesterday in Norseman by making up ham-and-tomato sandwiches. I am on my second cup of coffee, campfire boiled rather than on the gas burner, and I rounded out the meal with a banana. I ate mainly muesli bars throughout the day and I had an orange and banana as well as coffee for breakfast.

I am thinking about cooking over the next couple of days the dry food I brought. The food from the roadhouses was not recommended to me because it is said to be takeaway stuff, fatty and low in carbohydrates. I will experiment with the spaghetti and dehydrated soups first. I have also bought some instant pasta and Soups-in-a-Cup. I hope the roadhouses have some fresh fruit (or as fresh as it can be out here) because what I have won't last until Border Village.

Still, the more I consume, the lighter the load. I probably have an extra four kilograms on board, made up of three litres of water and the rest in fruit and other food. So I am back to where I started in Perth with weight. Fortunately, my fitness has improved markedly since then, and the load is not so onerous.

I had the radio on for most of the day. Reception from RadioWest in Esperance is becoming weaker, though, and I expect it to peter out tomorrow. At least it has been company even though the music and commercial selection is not brilliant. As I write this, RadioWest has just faded out entirely, and I have now tuned into reliable old ABC Radio.

Some of the vehicles that pass me on the highway have been interesting. I have seen one brand new truck with its front wheels resting on the tow-vehicle's cradle. It struck me that the new truck would have at least 2,200km of wear and tear on the differential before it moved of the showroom floor. I was later passed by a convoy of two floats loaded with new 18-metre fishing boats headed east. Then came another convoy loaded with an ore carrier and a loader headed for a mine site.

Trevor Nyland told me last night about water reservoirs at regular intervals along this road. Their existence is virtually unknown by the public. He said they were built when the highway was used by drovers on horseback moving stock across the continent, and to sustain other travellers. The reservoirs usually were built into the rock using dynamite, and channels along the outcrops led water to the tanks, which in turn were covered in corrugated iron. Trevor said they were sited about one kilometre off the highway.

It's worth picking up these little bits of information because they may come in handy should difficulties arise. I would like to investigate further, especially as I have seen signs near Norseman pointing inland to water supplies. But right now, I need to press on towards Adelaide.

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