The Cycling Adventurer

   Perth-Adelaide 1997

Day 21   

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Ahhhh... this is the night life!

Bloody fantastic! I achieved my distance target for the day. I left Eucla at a record early time of 7.15am after getting up at a record early time of 5.30am, and I am settled in under canvas at 4.30pm Central Western Time.

I feel good physically. Even my backside hasn't given me grief. The winds were kind. Not all day, mind. There was a slog for the first hour in the morning dew when I had trouble getting up to an average of 15km/h. But things improved after that, and the winds generally turned to my right rear quarter. I did not have to go below third gear on the rear for much of the day, and actually got up to fifth gear several times.

In many respects, the highway was little different from along the coastal plain to Eucla two days ago, but the vision of the ocean over the cliffs, the scattered cloud that produced only one 10-minute shower, the otherwise sunny conditions, the scarcer roadtrains thanks to a South Australian public holiday, and the kind winds all came together to make this a great day.

I crossed the border between Western Australia and South Australia 12km after leaving Eucla. I have left my watch on Central Western Time until tonight when I will put it forward the remaining 45 minutes to match Central Standard Time. I will leave the alarm set on 5.30am.

The checkpoint at the border is strangely arranged. From about two kilometres away, a portal seemed to rise slowly above the road, but as I moved closer, I saw it covered only the right side.

In other words the portal was there for west-bound traffic. The left lane diverts around the station. The Border Village roadhouse is on the South Australian side of the border, to the right.

Adjacent to it is a huge sculpture signifying the actual border line. I took some photographs for posterity of me and the bike with the SA/WA sign in the background.

The border between Western Australia and South Australia meant another milestone in the journey.

The road conditions deteriorated immediately immediately I crossed into South Australia. The standard was the same as east of Balladonia with a narrow or non-existent shoulder and narrow gravel verges. The Western Australian part of the Eyre Highway into Border Village was obviously rebuilt recently, and was like a super-highway for a cyclist.

The change in road conditions on the South Australian side also seemed to herald a change in the attitude of drivers. One towing a caravan in a small convoy passed me with just 30cm to spare, leaving me to swear and gesticulate with my fingers... or one finger anyway. Then yet another gold Ford passed just as close. I seem to have been plagued by sloppy drivers in gold or bronze Ford Falcons and Fairlanes since Katanning. There must be a psychological link between idiocy and this colour and model of vehicle.

I must admit that things improved the further I went into South Australian territory, including a decrease in the number of roadtrains. I was, however, angry at the carelessness of the drivers generally, but I can't do anything other than swear, make rude hand signs, and keep pedalling.

I had a restless night in Eucla. The hip-hole was elusive, and the wind concerned me because I did not want to get up to an east-south-easterly stream... I got up to an east-south-easterly stream. Moderate winds were forecast. Oh well, I can only do what I can when the conditions are against me.

I made up a shopping list last night, and collected the frozen meat pack, bread, margarine, Vegemite, film and torch batteries from the motel shop. Now that I have stopped for the night, I find the meat is still partially frozen! I have wrapped up the steak for tomorrow night, and I intend to cook the chops and sausages tonight with the bacon-and-onion soup mix to add flavour. I have a couple of cans of beer I kept over from last night, and the liquid in one is sliding down very well at the moment.

I will build a fire closer to dark to cook and to warm me. I was glad to find a campsite with some shelter. The cliffs on the coast are only about 50 metres away, and they are about 100 metres high. The area has almost no trees, but plenty of shrubbery that has been stunted by the windy conditions. I picked a spot behind the largest clump I could find, and it is a great windbreak. Some wood is lying around the site, so a fire will not be a problem in keeping alive.

I had one minor problem with the bike as I left Eucla. I walked it the 100 metres from the campsite to the motel to get my supplies and after loading up and getting on, found the chain had dropped off the small chainring. It was coincidence. But starting with minor repairs on both mornings suggested that Eucla did not want to let me go. I had the chain problem licked in 30 seconds, but I will need to look at adjusting the inner stop on the derailleur.

A number of rest and parking areas have been created between Eucla and my campsite, each overlooking the cliffs so people can engage in whale-spotting. I was reluctant to go off the highway and ride up to 4km to the coast on gravel roads. With the sun moving behind the cliffs very early in the morning, the light is not appropriate for photography.

I have written before about how this journey continues to reveal something special. The clear sky tonight highlights a huge number of stars that are so bright that they literally merge into the conglomeration that gives a clue as to why the group is called the Milky Way. The moon also is out tonight, and that has cast additional light outside. The occasional bursts of headlights on the horizon are followed by the noise of a roadtrain flying past on the road. I feel secure, being far enough off the highway behind my clump of bushes not be noticed. The only thing missing is a shower, but I cannot have everything if I choose to be a touring cyclist. I will have one tomorrow when I get to Nullarbor.

I have just finished my little concoction of sausage, lambchops and soup, and it was another successful exercise in my bush cookery. It was followed by bread and margarine (to clean up the remaining sauce), a beer followed by coffee.

I think I may have identified another contributing factor to my sore backside. Sweating! Before this trip, I would sweat when I did any form of light exercise, while sailing, in the gym, setting out on the road by bike, or just doing vacuuming at home. When I started the trip, the sweat just rolled off me for at least a week. Obviously, my fitness has improved, and my work rate has increased, so I am going further for the same amount of sweat... I think.

Today, I lowered my bike shorts and exposed my backside to the breeze to try to dry off the sweat on my skin and in the chamois. The two or three minutes grabbed at each stop seemed to work until the sixth hour when the moisture build-up was too great to evaporate in such a short time.

I have removed the two offending lengths of fibreglass sections from the tent to reduce the number of running repairs. This has shortened each of the poles, but a steel ferule is at the apex of each when they are curved over and slotted into the small fittings at each corner of the tent floor. The result is that the fly and the tent are lower and baggier. In fact the interior looks to have a parachute ceiling, and the tent will be more susceptible to flapping in the wind. I'll see what I can get as replacements for the poles and ferules when I arrive in Ceduna or Adelaide.

I am 70km from Nullarbor Roadhouse. With another good run tomorrow, I might make Yalata, which is 160km away. I think I could have made close to that distance today, but I did not want to over-extend myself, and I was unsure of the time of sundown. If I had ridden the distance, though, I would have finished after dark, and felt very, very tired. Right now, I am only sore and just tired, and I am sure a good night's sleep will be the remedy.

I noticed today that motorcyclists are making their way back to Perth after the grand prix on Phillip Island in Victoria. I expect a few more over the next couple of days. There also have been several cars towing trailers with dragsters inside, so there must have been a national meeting in an Eastern State at the weekend. During the afternoon, the Roberston bus from Madura passed me, and Darryl gave me a toot on the air horn and a big wave. I watched the bus for about three minutes as it made its way along the cliff tops, then turned to the north-east and soon disappeared.

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