zigzagging east and west

Oh dear.
Sorry blog.
Sorry blogreaders. I hope I haven't lost you all forever.
I just haven't quite been making it here despite the best of intentions. And now it's almost midnight the night before I'm setting off on another adventure, as usual, and I'm doing a rushed entry without quite the time or energy to be very poetic or descriptive.
I'm in Sydney!
Came back over east (by bus) for a special family birthday.
Have had a lovely few days in Sydney seeing wonderful friends.
And tomorrow I'm headed back to the desert! The Simpson one. Helping out on an ecology research trip. (In a car). Then to the macquarie marshes on the way back.
There's a lot of different things I would like to write about but not sure when that will happen, as I'm unlikely to have access to the net till mid december (how lovely!).
Not sure when I'll be back on the bike again, maybe January.
In the meantime feel free to peruse some of my photos of my adventures- just click on the slideshow on the right and it should take you to my flickr page.
Looking forward to getting back to those big open skies. Red sands.
Thanks for still reading despite my irregularity and boring late-night posts.

Growth in the desert

[written 3/10/10]

This morning I rose at dawn and climbed the hill behind the hut I'm lucky enough to call home at the

moment. The dawn light was glowing red on the range, which dips down to Honeymoon Gap, one of the many punctuation marks in the long caterpillar sentence of the West Macdonnels. The chocolate and honey scents of cassia and mulla mulla mingled as the sky brightened with the decisiveness of a new spring heat.

I've been staying here on the outskirts of Alice Springs for two weeks now, and what a magical time it is to be here. Over 700mm of rain has fallen in the Alice this year, the biggest fall in 50 years I'm told. When we arrived there was water everywhere, in pools by the road on our bus

trip here, in the Todd River running through town, at Simpsons Gap (10km away) and in the normally dry creek the runs past the property here- perfect for sitting in on a hot afternoon.

The creek stopped running a few days ago, and the other pools are slowly shrinking, which makes me glad we caught the bus and got to see them while they lasted. We also caught a delicious week or so of cool nights (actually sleeping IN my sleeping bag!) and got to spend time with lovely friend Libby before she had to head back to Sydney. When I add all that to the thought of fiding 500km into a head wind from Tennant Creek to here, getting the bus feels like the right decision (not that there is ever only one right decision).

Last weekend we (Ryan Libby, Carny, Emma aka Crunch and I) headed west (by car) to explore some other parts of the West Macdonnels. The Ormiston Pound Walk was certainly different to my memory of it 10 years ago, with a dozen rock-hopping creek crossings, and a long swim at the end, but still just as spectacular (or maybe a bit more). We also

walked a section of the Larrapinta, from Glen Helen back to Ormiston.

The spinifex is flowering after the rains, setting the whole landscape a-shimmering. Such a bounty of seed has brought in the birds: budgies in their hundreds, in pulsating flocks, chattering in trees above our heads as we wake- I can't get over how spectacularly beautiful they are in the wild, like a totally different creature to the cage-bound house pet I once considered them; finches everywhere too, including a couple of painted firetails at Ormiston. And the splashes of wildflower colours were daubed across the hills, a thick splash of white everlasting on the rocky range-tops, a background wash of cassia yellows and eremophila purples, and cheery highlights of pink desert roses and lolly-coloured peas.

Back here at Honeymoon Gap, we are still immersed in and in awe of the riches and rhythms of these ancient hills. Sitting on the verandah of the hut (one of 6 houses scattered around the property, and the most simple, tucked away, with two beds, a table and little else) I am visited by zebra finches, hooded robins, white-winged trillers, and black honeyeaters, while I am regaled by the constant song of rufous songlarks, with sporadic input from bellbirds and willy wagtails.

Also many joys of the more human genre. The company of friends old and new. Some good raucous times with a pair of 8 year olds who have taken quite a liking to my ukelele, cuddles with one-month old Nina, and double-yolkers from some happy chooks. I've been loving having a kitchen, churning out sourdough bread (getting better every time!), sauerkraut, yoghurt (made soy yoghurt for the first time yesterday, and it's delicious!), sprouts, cottage cheese, cake. Yum.

Spring is springing and so am I.

Alice Springs

Alice and I made it to Alice with a touch of help from a bus for the last 700km. We haven't quite decided why we stopped where we did. We were having a marvellous time and the riding was lovely. But somehow we did stop and we are both very happy to be here in Alice Springs with some lovely folks and a sparkling new baby.

I think we'll both stay here a few weeks. And then Alice might cycle onwards and I might stay here a while longer.

Rainy Day No 2

We've just finished our 31st day on the bikes, stopping for lunch at 10am and now dinner at 3pm. Everything gets gradually earlier in a vicious cycle of wholesomeness.

I drank some stagnant pond water next to yesterday's lunch drain. I boiled it for sure, boiled it good. But it wasn't enough it seems today. We rode 107km today, 1km less than our next longest day. I doubt Alice will ever forgive me for robbing us of our collective PB. If I'd had a more rugged stomache or had just put less rugged ditch water in it, we might have done 109km. Or who knows, even 112km or something.

The rain only started just as we arrived at the rest stop. We couldn't find any rockin drains to sleep in so we've had to settle for a bona fide rest area. Never much firewood at these places, but you can usually pinch some from the grey nomads while they're inside tuning their TVs.

The rice was ready way too early for everything else so we had to rug it up. With these winds your boiled rice can drop to dangerous room temperature in no time. Something to watch out for.

Barkly tablelands

[written by Alice]


The past few days have been some of the flattest riding you could imagine. Not boring though although many drivers dismiss this area as such. Constantly changing skies and colours. So green! You can tell there's been rain recently. I'm no longer so daunted by the vastness of it. Although that may partly be because it's not 37degrees with a glaring sun constantly reminding me of the possibility of dying of dehydration and heat stroke.
Right now I'm wearing a jumper and enjoying warm tea(sent to camooweal by a lovely friend) by a fire. All things I couldn't have imagined four days ago. We've also been blessed with some pretty sweet tailwinds. Which do send us scurrying under bridges to cook, giving us plenty of time to practise being trolls.
We found amazing rocks by yesterdays bridge. I think they might be thunder-eggs....wish I paid more attention in geology.
Yesterday's sunrise was spectacular,bright red sky across the gently curved horizon broken only by a handful of trees. And an even more joyful event for having ridden for two hours in the dark.
I'll leave you with one of my favourite quotes from Ryan from the past few days-"this might be one of those wash-ups where I don't drink the washing up water".

Location:Wonara bore

NY Border

The sign is the only shade as far as you can see.

Glory to the Bridge

We found this totally rocking cement bridge to spend the day hiding under. Outside it's a painful 38 deg, but under here it's a delightful, breezy 35 deg. We were so happy to find it. It has a tiny dead bird balancing headfirst in a dusty cow footprint. When the wind blows it catches the bird's tail and pushes the little fella back and forth.

We reckon we could live under here for months without anyone knowing. Even though there are cars driving overhead all the time. We'd just have to be sure we moved out before flood season.

The only bad news we have is that the oat milk went sour because some spilt olive oil soaked through the Tetrapak. Only one carton of soy milk left now and 70km to ride until Camooweal. It's a little grim.

Dogs

"In consideration to out other guests and of course our wildlife, we ask that your dog be kept restrained at all tines, does not enter the amenities block and does not bark all bloody day and night. Your dog will be asked to remove itself from the property if it contravenes these few simple rules."

From the info sheet at Adel's Grove. I am glad to see they are holding the appropriate party responsible for breaking the rules.

Helmet Upgrade

Alice has some fairly fancy DIY helmet accoutrements these days, both practical and fashionable. So I thought my helmet could do with some attention. I've added a third level of peak to it. First layer came with the helmet. Second layer is a gaffed on truckers cap peak we found on a termite mound. Third layer provides relief on hot days in a couple of different ways.

See and download the full gallery on posterous

Mt Isa and beyond

[written by Alice]
Out we go into the desert...the trees are getting shorter and further apart, the ground redder and rockier,the spinifex spikier, oh and the sun hotter. We left mt Isa yesterday after a couple of rest days and preparations for probably the most remote stretch of our journey. Off we trundles at dusk, our panniers more loaden than ever with full 24L of water each and lots of nuts. A few doubts in my head about the heat(37degrees plus predicted for today and tomorrow-did we leave this too late?),but I am still excited to experience this great,open landscape,so we are taking it easy,only riding in the morning and skipping from one rest stop to the next(shade being the limiting factor). Wildflowers have already begun-masses of pink mulla mulla as soon as we rode out of town.
Mt Isa is a strange but interesting place. Had some delicious rain there (a favourite moment of mine being when discussing whether to gof back and take the washing off the line Ryan looked up the weather map on his I-phone and said nope no clouds nearby,I stepped outside,smelt the rain, felt the rain and saw the big black clouds...:P).
Oh and we met 2crazy French guys on a tandem,always good to meet someone who makes us look soft and sane in comparison.
Pretty photo here of our campsite just out of cloncurry.

Location:Chinaman Creek Dam Rd,Cloncurry,Australia

Really Sweet Sunsets

via flickr.com

This was at Lawn Hill. Pretty much my favourite part of the trip.

Mt Isa Coffee House

Quite delicious coffee. I declare that anyone who claims that Mt Isa
isn't thoroughly cosmopolitan is a foolheaded bumpkin.

A different day

Sitting at a rest stop half way between Cloncurry and Mt Isa waiting for the laksa to finish cooking. Ryan just had a lie down because he ate too many peanuts (or maybe more to do with riding a pretty hilly day in the heat and accepting a beer at a break in the afternoon I suspect), so I thought I would sneak in a blog while I can, as some have accused me of losing interest in my own blog (it's hard to keep up with these people with i-phones!).

Today we rediscovered a bunch of distantly remembered aspects of cycle-touring: freewheeling (ah you don't always have to fight for every kilometre!), hills (the upsides and the downs, half of which had us slightly regretting our enthusiastic shop in Cloncurry woolworths, the first supermarket we'd seen since Ravenshoe), tailwinds... We also met some generous folk who gave us water, crackers, and chocolate (the last of which I accidentally ate all of, woops) oh and then the aforementioned beer.

Yesterday we learnt that cycling into a headwind fuelled only by white bread and golden syrup (dwindling lunch and breakfast supplies after no food being available in Quamby or Burke and Wills) doesn't make for the most cheerful adventurers (surprise surprise).

There are a lot of ants here. Luckily they haven't realised all the good stuff is up here on the table, but they swarm our feet as soon as we put them down. Ryan tried giving them an offering of some of our beloved golden syrup (which we never squeeze straight into our mouths, I swear). They seem to be enjoying the golden syrup, but not enough to keep them away from our feet (and who could resist our unwashed cyclist feet really). There are also road trains stopping here every half hour or so, but we'll sleep through anything tonight I think. With the moonless sky full of stars shining on us.

Had a 5 hour rest at the lovely Corella river today, watching fairy martins building their mudnests under the bridge, and a young nankeen night heron peering at us from on high. Almost as nice as the Chinamans Gap dam outside Cloncurry where we stayed last night. Internet too slow for pictures.
Mmm time for dinner.

Salty, Soupy, Porty, Poopy Party

Everyone is invited to the Salty, Soupy, Porty, Poopy Party. It's on tonight at 5pm! That's right, the 5th Sept so get cracking. The location is Terry Smith Lookout about 95km long, tough, windy hours ride south of Burke & Wills Roadhouse, Queensland.

Tonight is gonna go off for sure, so dont miss out. There'll be port and ginger cordial until the sensible bedtime hour of 8pm.

As you might expect there'll be salt and soup. Amongst other delights such as peanut butter, small amounts of mango chutney and our well-loved baked bean crockpot with quinoa.

There'll fresh new hits playing such as I'm a Paleo-coprologist, Curry! and the ballad of salt's love lost, My Saltetite is Waning.



Look at this cheerful party goer. He has both salt and soup.



There's a Dump-Ezy right on site so party pooping has never been easier.



These revellers got to the party early and threw back some port. Perhaps a little too much. No. Just jokes. Clearly they're having the time of their lives. Or some sort of time.

In heaven with no cumin

We just made it back to Burke and wills roadhouse after a glorious few days at lawn hill. Left the bikes here and hitched in with some friendly caravanners. This meant we had to only take some gear with us, and somehow the spice bag didn't make the cut. It was tough but we managed to survive a few flavourless days- luckily our spirits were buoyed by long swims in emerald waters, with scarlet finches and purple crowned fairy wrens flitting on the banks and the calls of martins and gerygones echoing off the red canyon walls.
We're in the habit of sleeping without a tent as the nights are hot and dry. In caravan parks some people seem to think this is a bit strange, like we are breaking the rules somehow. One woman warned me we would be poisoned by cane toads in our sleep.
Today is ryan's birthday-a dawn swim to farewell lawn hill, pancake breakfast, and plate of Burke & wills' finest hot chips with a tea-light on top- celebrating in outback style.
Excited to be back with wren and walnut(especially now our butts have recovered from our 108km day into a headwind-8.5hours on the bike not recommended) as it's weird now to be away from them. Also happily reunited with the spice bag.

Lawn Hill Sunset

Very nice spot.

Gregory Downs

We got a lift to old Gregory Downs with a couple of folks from NSW. We chatted and bonded over things we had in common like all being from NSW.

The town has a cute pub. No beer on tap but they do sell milk and bread and that's how you can tell Gregory Downs is a real town. Unlike Burke & Wills Roadhouse which only sold postcards and stubby holder shaped memorabilia.


We had even more beers when we got here. It might make today our most drunkenly day of the whole trip.

We found a pretty caravan park with roos and sprinklers and ants and caretakers from Melbourne. One of them offered us one of the empty cabins if it got too cold. She said she wouldn't tell anyone else - presumably meaning her fellow caretaker and husband. It was quite lovely of her. It was about 35 degrees today.

As we settled down and started to reflect on our small-scale, high-mobility pack, I realised I'd removed every sort of dinner flavour from the kitchen bag. Alice was gracious and forgiving but insisted I never be permitted again to make serious spice decisions without supervision. I agreed that was only fair. Fortunately salt and olive oil are great even in fairly remote isolation from other flavours. And peanut butter on a spoon makes both an excellent entree and dessert. So the night was no Desert Dinner Disaster by any means.

We both like cycling almost 10.

Burke and Wills Roadhouse

We made it to Burke and Wills safe, sound, slightly thirsty and with a healthy hot chip craving. It's a funny place which seems to exist purely for tourists. There's nothing else for 150km but you can't buy milk. Or beer on tap.


Today was short - about 30km. But it was enough. Much hotter than the last couple of days. Luckily we had a glorious tail wind all the way into town.


We are trying to find folks who might want to give us a lift into Lawn Hill. Because we are lazy loafers and don't want to do the 300km side trip.

It rained last night, for about 10 minutes. Big desert raindrops. Alice put up the tarp and the rain stopped. But there were puddles on the road thus morning which I rode through fast with a splash.

There were a bunch of mosquitoes too last night. We are a but paranoid about Murray Basin Encephalitis. Alice put up the tent and the mosquitoes stopped. For me at least. I didn't get in the tent.

I have just eaten chips and beer so I like cycling 10 and I think Alice does too.

Second day to Burke & Wills

Our second day is not quite so impressive. By the time we'd finished eating our celebratory pancakes last night it was 11pm which meant there was no chance we'd be leaving at 4:30am. In the end we had a nice sleep in and left about 8am. It was funny to wake up and find we were sleeping just a few metres from the highway. But in the mornings and evenings we only see one or two cars an hour so they didn't wake us up.

Instead of belting through 70km happily before lunch as we traditionally do (once at least), we struggled through 40km. Nut snack stops at least every 5km or it really wouldn't be manageable.


We managed to lose our lunch time rest stop entirely. We're still not sure where it went. But luckily we found a lovely clump of trees in an otherwise barren stretch of road. We had a bit of a fire and cooked up some chapatis. We had them with some hot (hardly) mango chutney we found at Stop Shop in Normanton. What a treat it was.


This was also where we ran out of soy milk so no more cappuccinos for us (or me). I'll have to struggle by on short blacks only for the next two days. Fortunately we found water at one rest stop so I can now wash the percolator between bliss times.

Alice likes riding 10 today and I like it 8.

Slow and far

After 7 hours riding even macadamias can't totally cheer Alice up. It will be our slowest day and also our furthest.

Lunch out of Normanton

We had a tremendous morning. There was a foul head wind but luckily for me and Alice we are both totally tough and fit. Not to mention wholesome early riser sorts.

There were flocks of brolga about 40km out of Normanton. Heaps of them in bunches waiting by the side of the road. As we rolled past they'd take off and it was pretty great. They had about the same trouble flying south as we did riding south so I felt a little solidarity.

We crossed the Flinders River and I collected extra water without being eaten at all by crocodiles. Alice didn't collect any spare water so I anticipate I'll be faced with an ethical dilemma if her life is threatened by dehydration. One thing I've learned out here is that helping people survive doesn't help anyone so I believe it would be best to let her perish nobly with her independence and dignity in tact. Welfare gets you nowhere.

We did about 15kph (slow) throughout the morning and made it to a good rest stop for lunch. There are no shade trees in these parts so finding a shed is rather exciting. We'll probably sit happily under this fellow for quite some hours.



We had something of a spectacular satay pita bread wrap for lunch followed by freshly percolated coffee from my brand new middle-class gadget (or at least I did).



Alice lost some crosswords to a particularly vicious gust of wind. She ran down the road after them and I wondered if I should follow and help. I decided it was too hot so I stayed in the shed. Then I had images of Alice getting lost running around paddocks looking for crosswords and getting heatstroke or something. And it definitely seemed too hot to mount any sort of search and/or rescue if that happened so I was somewhat torn. Eventually Alice came back with most of the crosswords, interrupting my reflection time. She doesn't appear to have suffered any permanent side effects from her ordeal. The scars will be largely emotional.

So the plan us to sit around. Read books. Make more fancy coffee. Perhaps have a siesta.

Morning Starting

We finally left at about 5am after much daffing around by me and a longish detour to the post office to post some cinnamon to our friends.

We've just had a breakfast stop while the sun rises over some pretty Savannah grasses.

Normanton to Cloncurry

Alice and I are heading off in a few hours. For our epic desert trek. 200km of pure crocodile and grey nomad infested territory with no water save that from the greys campervan sinks. It will be some tough distance to cover to be sure. Asking people at rest stops for water and lunch biscuits because we couldn't carry enough for ourselves. Hard, sweaty and humiliating work. But it's all part of the genuine desert cycling tour adventure upon which we embark.

See you all on the other side. Or at least at the next roadhouse.

Location:Sutherland St,Normanton,Australia

Gulf!

We made it to the Gulf!
Have just had a lovely few days in Normanton and Karumba.
I hope my previous post hasn't turned anyone off cycle touring- it was an exceptional day, probably our toughest yet.
Ryan has new tyres which are proving good and tough (thanks to Atherton Bike shop and the Normanton coach/courier service!), I continue puncture free thanks to the bargain Schwalbe Big Apples from the good folk at Bicycle Revolution in Bris.

So many highlights! Almost everything is a highlight. We're trying to get to bed to get up early tomorrow and start our longest stretch (205km) between water to Burke and Wills Road House.
So won't try to describe them too descriptively, but once again resort to list form:

• Normanton state school fete! How lucky we were to be in town for one of the biggest social events of the year!
• Watching the sun set over the gulf of carpentaria (although no, we couldn't swim in it)
• Riding a 105km day.
• So many birds, I'm at around 110 species for the trip (despite myself I've become one of those list makers)- including a bustard, burdekin ducks, rufous throated honeyeater, pied herons in the past few days...
• Spending long hours chatting with the lovely Mark and Erika, our amazing Normanton hosts (who also picked us up from Karumba, saving us riding back the 70km into a headwind and got us back in time for the fete- thanks a million guys!).
• Picking up an amazing package (contents pictured) from Dad at the Normanton Post Office- it was better than Christmas! Dried fruit and veg, quinoa, macadamias, crosswords thanks to mum, anything we could have possibly thought of and more! Yum yum yum we will most certainly be well fuelled on the next leg, and we may well need it more than ever as we turn south into possible headwinds, eek!

Ryan did a blind test of hot chips claimed to be the best in the southern hemisphere. The jury is still out but it made us pretty happy anyway.









Getting blown away by our first strong crosswinds. Note my caravan-park-chic helmet hat (version one, as that one was quickly destroyed by wind and cats)




Sunset and beer at the Gulf.
Pretty stoked to have made it this far.

A day (and a bit) in the life of savannah cyclists

Thursday August 19
0430 Alarm goes off but I don't hear it
0520 Waken up by an engine starting- a miner who lives in this Mt Surprise caravan park heading to work. Scurry to pack and leave to escape the heat
0610 On the road! What bliss! The bike just hums along this flat savannah way. Pedalling seems almost perfunctory, like my bike has a will of its own drawing me ever westward.
0630 The sun is rising behind me, warming my back in a promise of the heat of the day to come
0640 We stop at a creek to watch a Jabiru legging wirily through the shallows, then ascend skyward and float skyward, a calligraphic question mark heading for the horizon.
0650 Ryan has a flat tyre. We declare it breakfast time ( soaked mueslie with figs, nuts, dates and the ever-present cinnamon)
0730 Try to leave. Ryan's bike (Walnut) refuses, revealing another hissing hole, and then two more.
0815 Ok! Tyre fixed, back on the road- we should still be able to get some good distance behind us before the day heats up too much.
0845 Walnut has another flat. Pull off the now single-lane highway into some paltry shade.
0915 Ryan still fixing and searching for holes and their sources. I help by taking photos.
0930 A car stops to say hello and out gets Tash, who I met on the sunshine coast- small world! Unfortunately not carrying any thorn-proof tyres.
0945 Eat half a packet of jatz out of boredom
1000 Back on the road! Getting warm.
1015 Another flat. Somehow still haven't heard Ryan swear. Examine tyres in fine detail and extract tiny but deadly thorns. Shade is getting shady, in the dodgy sense, not in the shielding-us-from-the-sun sense.
1100 Back on the road.
1130 Half an hour with no flats! Bringing us 30km since we left over 5 hours ago, to the sandy banks of the Einasleigh river. Stop for a 'swim' and decide to shelter here from the heat, as it's the best shade around
1230 Baked beans for lunch!
1300 Siesta time!
1315 What the hell are we doing here?
Confined to the languid midday shade, whiling away these stifling hours. I watch weebills flit from tree to tree. Australia's smallest bird, moving with freedom across that seems so daunting and vast to me, despite being hundreds of times bigger. Makes us clumsy humans luggan all sorts of paraphernalia merely to survive seem pretty comical.
1330 I sit on our only banana. Mix with peanut butter and declare it a new dessert- 'Platano plano'
1400 Did I mention it's hot?
1430 Try to leave but still too hot to move.
1530 Action! Not that it's cooled down noticably but hope to create some of our own wind. Sunglasses on as we head into the lowering sun. Given up on making it the 90km to Georgetown, but we should at least make it up the Newcastle Range, our last decent climb of the trip.
1630 An hour and no flats! Celebrate with peanuts.
1700 Start to climb the range
1715 Ryan gets a flat. We declare it a day and set up camp just off the road (actually quite a pleasant clearing, with ghostly termite mounds dancing politely around stately granite tors, and sweeping views back to the east)
1730 Ryan fixing flat (or 5 flats to be precise, bringing the days total to 11). I help by playing ukelele
1800 Too hot and tired to cook (still 32degrees we later find out), we eat sandwiches for dinner.
1900 Too hot for the tent, we flop onto our mattresses on the groundsheet, sheltered from the highway by a big friendly rock.
1901 SLEEP.
Friday August 20
0630 Wake to the spectrum of the rising sun
0700 Porridge!
0800 On the road, just hoping for no flats for the 30km into Georgetown, where we plan to wait till Ryan can get better tyres posted.
0815! Yes! Up the range, the bike just hums along, pedalling seems almost perfunctory, I am drawn magnetically westward, through glowing hills dotted with charismatic termite mounds and skeletal Kapok trees, passing handfuls of crayon yellow flowers to the sun. What bliss!

*******
Postscript: We cheated a little and got a bus from Georgetown to Croydon, an interesting historic goldtown in which to spend a weekend (it used to have 36 pubs!). Ryan's tyres should arrive today and then we'll be on the move again, this early summer weather is predicted to cool off at least slightly. Only one banana was harmed in the writing of this blog.

We rode 84km yesterday. Or maybe even 87km. We have forgotten. But anyway, it was well far and we are feeling pretty hot stuff. Starting to even feel like this whole endeavour might be possible. Not totally convinced yet, but certainly hopeful. It sure is a long way to Alice Springs. People keep telling us that. And they're right.

This morning we set out deadly early, although Alice had been up for hours, patiently waiting while I slept. We got the best tail wind and swept (and were swept) along at 25km/hour all morning. There were bits where we'd be going uphill at 30km/hour without much pedalling at all. With full panniers and all. It would be good to know how much gear we are actually hauling across the continent. My estimates are from 30kg to 55kg. I'm not very good at estimating.

So far the highlights have been the food (although we haven't had hot chips for almost a week), the friendly folk we've stayed with, the Rock Wallabies at Granite Gorge. Also the nice morning rides. And the tail winds. And the sunset at Atkinson Lookout tonight. And the hot chips we had before we stopped having hot chips. And good company to Alice, in Alice.

We upgraded our panniers and added a spare trailer we found abandoned by the road.

Good storage capacity, but quite slow.

Cairns to Atherton tablelands

Five days into our adventure and we are certainly epitomising slow and curious travel, having only made it 70km or so from Cairns as the crow flies. Which doesn't mean our days haven't been action packed. So much to see and do (and eat) up here on the Atherton Tablelands, a lush volcanic landscape, diverse and full of surprises- be they pockets of rainforest, delicious places to swim or produce stalls.

Lots of things have made us happy and in love with cycle touring (today we give it an 11 out of 10!) and this land these past few days:

*riding through a traffic-free backroad in Dinden national park, in lush rainforest in the misting rain, thinking about how different most of the rest of the trip will be.

*getting up on to the tablelands- we survived the climb!

*being greeted by a coffee plantation with cafe soon after joining the main road.

*finding a local fruit and veg stall 500m further down the road

*a local icecream factory 500m further down the road (hm it sure is tricky to get very far when there is the serious job of food sampling to be attended to)

*sunshine

*falling in love with Mareeba unadorned rock wallabies at granite gorge, where we wandered blissfully among the boulders.

*swimming in rivers and waterfalls, gorges and lakes- Lake Eacham, a 55m deep lake in a volcano crater today was especially divine

*making new avian friends- today a huge shifting flock of magpie geese huddled in a paddock, sending out regular gangs westward, a little further down the road were a congregation of sarus cranes stepping perfectly through long grass. Also a yellow honeyeaters, great bowerbirds, little shrike-thrush, forest kingfisher, a huge raucous flock of redtailed black cockatoos and probably more.

*staying with a wonderful family from WarmShowers in Atherton, we knew when we were greeted by 4 smiling boys riding bikes in their undies and a bunch of chooks waddling round the green garden that we were in the Right Place- thanks guys!

The list of things that has made us grumpy is a lot shorter:

*grumpy ranger at Clohesy River telling us you can't camp here go back to cairns (we'd got there over 3 hoursof climbing)

*having to push our bikes up very very steep dirt roads for a couple of hours out of copperlode dam- although ryan said he was having fun, I was swearing like a sailor under my breath.

*not being allowed to adopt a Mareeba unadorned rock wallaby as a pet

Tommorow we go through ravenshoe, the highest town in queensland (it actually gets cold up here) and on to Innot hot springs. starting to cover some real distances as fruit stalls and cheese factories become further and further apart. Any mail offerings can be sent to Normanton.

Cairns to Alice

Well, I have joined Alice on her adventures for a time. She has invited me on her cycle and also to her blog. A few of weeks ago I suggested to Alice that we ride to Alice Springs, just trying to be funny. She said she'd call me back. She did think it was a pretty funny idea, but she also said she would do it. So here we are in Cairns, about to ride 2500kms to Alice Springs.

We are both pretty crazy excited. We got a little carried away buying food. Our spice bag takes up half a pannier - and that was after we heavily culled the Hungarian paprika. We haven't left so much room for water, which apparently out in the desert everyone seems to think is important. We bought some extra bottles and stuff just in case.

We are saying goodbye to Sarah and Renee, who looked after us while we explored Cairns. We'd expected to stay a night, but we ended up spending three days following them around town poking into their social lives. Cairns is a nice place. Nice and tropical. Certainly warm enough for nice swimming. In the winter. But we want to thank Sarah and Renee for being so great. Everyone who comes to Cairns should stay with them. Although perhaps we should ask them if that's OK first.

Our first destination is Copperlode Dam and then to Tinaroo Dam. Our first few days are going to be dirt roads, so it's possible everything our bikes will bounce/snap off and we'll have to return to Cairns for stronger clips and straps and bikes. But it sure sounds like a nice ride and it has plenty of water, which is a nice introduction to a desert trip.

• Cairns to Alice Springs (Google Maps route)

Go West!

In Cairns, heading West tomorrow!

Lots of last minute preparations and excitedness.

We're a bit scared about the 1000m climb ahead of us, but it will be largely downhill from there.

The drive up here was as nice as it could be, in a monster of a campervan for $5 a day. There were many moments reminding me why I prefer being on a bike- which is just as well, because there's a lot of hours in the saddle ahead!

My partner in crime, Ryan, will be a guest author on the blog for the journey. Not sure when we'll have internets but when we do you'll be sure to hear about all our crocodile encounters, desert pancake-cookups and other near-death experiences.

Time for bed, as we'll need our energy for the climb tomorrow, just wanted to do a quick post announcing the beginning of this adventure. Hurrah!

Gympie to Gayndah

(written 31/7)
How quickly the country has changed, not even 100km west from the luscious green of Pomona and the last of the glasshouse mountains, and suddenly everything dries out, I find myself swept up by rolling brown hills, open box woodland and expansive plains, riding over creek bed after dried-up creek bed- a little bit like home. Only a stones throw from the trendy consumer cornucopia of Noosa and suddenly it's 70km between water and I'm having to pay $8 for a dusty packet of oats and a lonely refrigerated orange from a tiny general store/service station. Ah yes, this is more like the Queensland of my imagination. Like many, I feel I had fallen into the trap of identifying Queensland with its beautiful but touristy coastland. But that is merely the icing on the cake, the fringe on the lily, and I get the feeling I'm starting to really move to the heart of things.
What this land lacks in conveniences for the traveller, it makes up for in friendliness. I had hardbly been off the highway for 20minutes when the (relatively) quiet backroad produced my first new friend for the day- Martin- who's 4 years in to travelling the bicentennial trail with 2 horses (today in a car), and loves to stop and chat to fellow travellers. Further down the road I was invited in for morning tea by Les and Lorraine (to their friend Jan's house they were just turning off to), plied with chips and tim tams, a cup of tea, and sent along with cheery waves an hour later. And then to top it off, 3 young locals and their grandad befriended me in Kilkivan, quizzed me seriously about my survival skills (always go west, I'm told!), spoke to me of feathers, ladybeetles, mandarins and native bees (scared away by grown-ups but not my kids) and filled my waterbottle with cool sweet tankwater.

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Now I'm in Gayndah, accepted a gift of a bag of oranges this morning- wouldn't have normally, but tomorrow Ryan will catch me with a car and we head up to Cairns.

Exciting adventures brewing!

A speedy and unpretty entry as once again I don't have my camera cord on me, and limited net time.

I'm in Gympie and it feels like summer. I guess this feeling will only increase as I move further north, which is what I'm doing. A lot further north... because exciting plans are afoot!

Next week I'm being joined by my intrepid friend Ryan to cycle from Cairns to Alice Springs via the Gulf of Carpentaria. Click here to see our approximate route- all 2,200 km of it!
All a flurry of preparations, figuring out how much food and water we'll need to carry for some true remote riding. Perhaps the hardest part has been figuring out how to get to Cairns, but we finally have a standby relocation car organised from Brisbane to Cairns for $5 a day.

Just briefly, highlights of the past week have included: a full day workshop in making sourdough bread, sourdough pikelets, kimchi, sauerkraut and fruit wine with Elizabeth Fekonia, which I paid for in a day's labour, building worm farms and painting; adventuring with my friend Rachael to the tranquil Boreen Pt where ducks and the moon were reflected in the sighing waters of Lake Cootharaba; relaxing at the house of Jim (my aunt's brother) and wife Kay, soaking up their beautiful gardens, marvelling at Jim's ingenuity in fixing my kickstand (hooray, no more searching for trees and posts for leaning!); and reading three novels in as many days. Photos coming asap.

Onward and upward!

Seeds of Sunshine

This past week I've been wwoofing and exploring the sunshine coast hinterland, happy to be moving slowly in this very hilly country. On my way I revisited the Glasshouse Mountains (pictured above), greeting the mother mountain Beerwah, having previously climbed Tibrogargan, the father. After climbing the range up to Maleny I went to an Awakening the Dreamer Symposium, a good day for talking and thinking big picture. I got rained on when camping again, of course.

I rode, pushed and staggered up my steepest hills yet (30% slope!) to reach my first wwoof hosts of the journey- the Desjardin family at a beautiful property called Whispering Trees with a lush permacultural family garden. With them I enjoyed sweeping vies (all the more sweeter for that 30% slope struggle), spent some quality time with weeds (remembering that a climate where you can grow anything all year round is equally hospitable to a whole host of vigorous opportunists) and reconnected with my penchant for cake decorating, for Juju's 12th birthday.

On Saturday I learnt the basics and philosophy of seed saving at Yandina Community Garden. Elizabeth Fekonia was our vibrant and engaging teacher, inspiring us all to play our little role in preserving diversity of food species and boycotting international agribusinesses and their hybrid seeds. Hopefully I will be able to hook into some of Elizabeth's other workshops, as she teaches all sorts of food fermentation, preserving and permacultural wisdom in the area. Afterwards there was a community pizza lunch- $1 for a beautiful sourdough base which you piled with your own topping (or toppings kindly donated to an unprepared traveller) and slid into the frog-shaped cob oven. With a belly full of pizza I enjoyed wandering around the impressive gardens, in particular their lush aquaponics system (pictured below).

Now I'm staying with the lovely Gemma, who I met at the Dreaming Festival, in Peregian, where I am happily exploring all this community has to offer- markets and free music in the sun on Sunday, seed collecting with the Coolum community nursery this morning, and right now the Coolum library- I do love a good library.

I'm going to explore this area for another week or so and then head off with a bit more momentum- exciting plans are afoot, keep tuned in for their announcement!

Munching and Meandering in Brisbane

Every day my journey continues, my gratitude deepens. Gratitude for being free and able to have such an unstructured time in my life, enabling me to follow my instincts; to awake not knowing what the day has in store, and to take up opportunities as they come along. Gratitude for the moments I share in peoples' lives, and the colourful glimpses that they give me of their passions, projects, homes and ways of being.

I'm also getting better at answering peoples' questions along the way. To 'Where are you from?' I now comfortably say that I am a nomad (although generally acknowledging my Bathurstian roots, I do not live there, nor is Sydney my home; sometimes people just want to know I'm Australian, asking the question on a different scale). To 'What made you want to do this?' rather than mumbling 'I dunno, I just did' (unable to pinpoint a reason, as what exactly makes us do anything but everything that has come before?) I am finding ways to speak of the joys of travelling slowly, of feeling, breathing and smelling the landscape, and of having an adventure, of course. And to the ever arising 'But what will you DO next?' which at first I resented- sometimes giving half hearted examples- I am finding ways of explaining that the point for me is not to know. The point is to be open to being transformed by this journey, this country, and to be truly present without a plan (goals, aims, and types of experiences I seek, yes, but not a rigid plan). To acknowledge the limitations of an environmental science education taken in lecture halls and laboratories and get out into this 'environment' they spoke of, and into the community and gather true wisdom and learnings. And learning opportunities were truly bountiful in the time I spent in Brisbane. Part of repaying my gratitude for that involves sharing it with others. So whether they are things you might like to connect with when up this way yourself, whether they spark ideas for your own life or community, or for sheer interests sake, I am going to share some snippets, and I hope at least a few people get something from them.

Food, Glorious Food has been a recurring theme for me in the past weeks, as is a pattern in my life.

• First and foremost was a community workshop and tour about Food Sovereignty put on by the amazing folk from Food Connect as a part of the first visit of delegates from La Via Campesina (LVC)to Australia. LVC is an international movement of peasant farmers (peasants literally meaning 'people of the land'), working among other things for food sovereignty, which they define as
  
  
  

  the RIGHT of peoples, countries, and state unions to define their
  agricultural and food policy without the “dumping” of agricultural commodities
  into foreign countries. Food sovereignty organizes food production and
  consumption according to the needs of local communities, giving priority to
  production for local consumption. Food sovereignty includes the right to protect
  and regulate the national agricultural and livestock production and to shield
  the domestic market from the dumping of agricultural surpluses and low-price
  imports from other countries. Landless people, peasants, and small farmers must
  get access to land, water, and seed as well as productive resources and adequate
  public services. Food sovereignty and sustainability are a higher priority than
  trade policies.

Food sovereignty moves beyond the idea of 'food security', which doesn't say anything about where the food comes from or how it is grown, bringing together a whole range of issues from ecology to justice, gender to health. The conference brought together farmers, food activists, researchers and interested citizens to discuss ideas of food sovereignty, relate them to the Australian context, and share stories. The 4 LVC visitors, from Japan, South Korea, East Timor and Indonesia, shared stories of LVC and issues that farmers face where they come from. It became clear that many issues faced by Australian farmers are occurring all over the world- the decline of rural communities, particularly the drain of youth to the cities, ecological decline, and loss of power and voice in the face of corporate interests. The second day of this event involved a bus tour, visiting an organic cereal farm, just about to harvest their first experimental crop of rice! (pictured at top)

• Food Connect themselves were one of the most shining examples of positive alternatives to the current food system, although many stories, dreams and plans emerged over the two days. Food Connect is a blossoming community supported agriculture scheme in Brisbane, bringing beautiful local organic produce to Brisbane residents and giving farmers a reliable and fair price for their work.


• I also enjoyed visiting Northey St City Farm, a fertile and diverse environmental education centre, community garden and public meeting place. Not only did I salivate over their fruit trees and lush market garden, admire their highly productive compost system and fondle a smorgasbord of seedlings in their community nursery, I also danced around a roaring bonfire at their winter solstice party and had a small-world experience at their Sunday organic markets (reuniting 7 individuals who had last been in one place in the tiny town of Cann River, Victoria- hosts, guests and guest of guests..)


• At the same markets you can now taste the delights produced by 'Culture Club', a group of people who get together regularly to skillshare on making fermented and cultured foods. The night I went they were making cheese, tempeh, beer, kimchi, sauerkraut and some other thing I forget the name of. Hooray! The only shame was that I couldn't learn it all in one night, but the door to that world has now been opened, and I can't wait to learn more.


• Culture Club was hosted at Turnstyle, one house of several in the Brisbane suburb of Highgate Hill that has opened it's garden and space to the community. I helped shift a load of horse poo the other day to get some of the neighbours' gardens going. Turnstyle also boasts a community bike workshop, woodfired pizza oven, impressive library, and events such as film screenings, life drawing and 'stitch-n-bitch's. All from the initiative of a few creative individuals who decided they wanted to interact with their community in a meaningful way.
• Speaking of food (in case you hadn't noticed) I went to see Food Inc, highly recommended.

Other Stuff!

I've spent so long writing about food that I think I'm running out of capacity to coherently describe much more, so I'll resort to a brief list of some stuff left over.

• Open-mic nights, poetry nights, busking and street art- bountiful opportunities for people to creatively express themselves and be supported in doing so


• Exit Through The Gift Shop- proclaiming itself to be 'the world's first street art disaster movie'. Yay.


• Bangarra Dance Theatre- beautiful. Inspiring me to move my body in more expressive, creative and playful ways (a necessary antidote to the round and round and round that my days involve..)


• The Dreaming Festival. I was going to write a whole entry on this but don't even know where to begin. Go! I left feeling so in love with the world.

Thankyou to all the lovely and generous souls I met in Brisbane, for opening up your worlds to me. I'm thinking of doing more posts like this (sharing my learnings) so feedback is appreciated.

Brisbane adventures (the Right Place at the Right Time)

Woops! Where did June go?
Sometimes a place can sneak up on you. When you're least expecting it, you get drawn in, enticed down a chattering, meandering path where one thing just keeps following another, welcomed with feasts for the senses, the intellect and the heart, and before you know it, a month has passed! Which is a rather convoluted way of saying 'I like Brisbane' and of apologising for the prolonged silence on the blogging front.

How delicious it is to have the time and the freedom to stay long enough to get a real sense of a place. To make friends and move spontaneously through my days, taking up opportunities and invitations as they arise. I feel that my time in Brisbane can be summarised as being in the right place at the right time (or perhaps it is more that I have moved into a relaxed and open way of being where the right place is Here and the right time is Now). That place has not involved sitting in front of a computer, which is nice, but leaves me with a dauntingly large bag of stories to share. So as not to overwhelm (whoever happens to read this, or myself), I will tackle it in nuggets, returning to my letter-writing strategy of 'short but frequent' (far more productive than long but never-completed in my experience).

Every city has many faces. Each person experiences it in their own way, which may say as much about them as it does about the city itself. So I have no delusions of being able to describe Brisbane accurately or capture its spirit. Yet of all the travellers and residents I have spoken to about this city, two simple words seem to repeatedly emerge: friendly and relaxed. It may sound a cliche, but the Brisbane I have discovered is a place where people have the time and willingness to get waylaid by conversations with strangers. I suspect that the slowly pulsing river running through the heart of the city has a powerful influence here, encouraging slow meandering over linear haste, and providing abundant locations for lazy picnics in the sun (if we gave our cities and index of picnickability Brisbane would rate highly). Speaking of sun, the weather here must also surely contribute to this atmosphere. As much as I have defended the joy of a crisp winter day and real seasons, I have been revelling in this concept of t-shirt weather in July (although don't get too jealous people- Brisbane recorded it's lowest maximum in a decade last week, it hasn't been sunshine all round).

One of my favourite conversations with a stranger occurred while reading a book waiting for a friend. A man approached me saying 'I see you are reading, are you a reader?' and proceeded to introduce himself as the complete James Joyce Appreciation Society of Brisbane, explaining that it was in fact Bloomsday. After speaking for a while I said that I would keep an eye out for a copy of Ulysses in my travels and give it a go.

'Oh no, I wouldn't do that if I were you.'

Confused face (if not even the James Joyce Appreciation Society appreciates James Joyce then what hope is there for the rest of us?).

Turns out this fellow is a playwright, and while reading Ulysses decided he hated it so much he was going to write a play called Death by Ulysses. Only when rereading the book to get material for the play did he decided it was actually rather good. Good luck to you, wherever you are JJASB, and thanks for making me feel like I myself was in a book.

Other ways that Brisbane has endeared itself to me include friendly and helpful railway staff (imagine! pay attention STA), extensive and easily navigable bike paths, with friendly drivers to boot, and abundance of free live music and open-mic nights, and a lovely quirky sprinkling of street art and knit graffiti.

Not that I have spent this whole month in Brisbane- I have been on a number of adventures into the surrounds, both solo and with company. In my first week I caught the ferry across to North Stradbroke Island for some beach wandering, bird and dolphin watching (alas no whales, 'tho 'tis the season) and a dip in the serene tea-tree stained Brown Lake. My next foray was a combined train-cycle trip to Woodford for the Dreaming festival (more on this later). Last week I returned to the same area in order to explore the spectacular Glasshouse Mountains (Spangled drongo! possibly my favourite bird name ever), climbing Mt Tibrogargan, the father mountain of the family of volcanic plugs scattered across the landscape. It felt good to use my legs for something other than going round and round, clambering up the steep rocky side of the mountain, and the reward was soaring views in all directions (see picture below), including to Brisbane and the coast. My friend James has also been a willing co-conspirator for day trips: up Mt Coot-tha for views over Brisbane at sunrise, and yesterday to Boondall Wetlands for mangrove meandering and time with the birds (mangrove gerygone). All this within a stone's throw of Brisbane- not only has this city been easy to slot into but also easy to get out of.

At that, I pronounce this nugget big enough.

In the next few days I hope to share stories of the Dreaming Festival, Food food food, and a bunch of exciting community projects happening here in Brisbane, as well as eventually some information about cycle-touring gear (information I wish I had when starting out).

Mail can be sent Post Restante c/o Eudlo Post Office.

Brizvegas, borderlands and big hills!

Well my friends, I made it to Brisbane! And ticked over 1000 solo kilometres today, so have crossed a couple of big milestones today. Time to relax (not that that's really a change), restock my energies and start plotting where to next. I've covered a fair bit of ground, geographically, symbolically and mentally since my last post.

As is becoming habit, I'll give it to you in a nutshell (macadamia nutshell to be specific) first:

26/5 Sawtell-forest near Grafton (~69km)

27/5 Forest near Grafton to Woody Head (north of Iluka) (~95 km)

28/5 Rest day at Woody Head

29/5 Woody Head to Broadwater (~61km)

30/5 Broadwater to Byron Bay (~57km)

31/5-1/6 Rest in Byron

2/6 Byron to Chillingham (~67km)

3/6 Chillingham to Ashmore- crossing the Qld border via Natural Bridge

4/6 Ashmore to Mt Tamborine (Hell Climb) (~40km)

5/6 Mt Tamborine to Beenleigh and train into Brisban (~30km)

Crossing the border was a day of contrasts, and got me pondering borders, lines and mountain ranges. Getting over it meant my biggest, steepest climb up to that point, culminating in a 25% slope, which I confess reduced me to pushing a stage of it. Looking back into NSW, I felt a sudden stab of affection for my home state. Having mostly thought of my travels as being in my home country, it wasn't until then that I had an awareness of moving further and further from home. All of a sudden I am putting mountain ranges and borders behind me, and looking down into the rain-veiled hills of NSW I realised I didn't know when I would be back.

I've never really placed much importance on borders- a political construct, a line on a map. In Australia, they seem particularly arbitrary, where you really can imagine that someone had fun with a pencil and ruler, with the occasional reluctant squiggly line as a head nod to geography. It sometimes seems that state borders mean nothing more than different coloured number plates, slightly different road signs, different words for individual serves of fruit juice, and varying incarnations of the same poorly written newspapers. Yet I think there are deeper differences, albeit subtle, difficult to put your finger on. Like you're viewing the same country from a slightly different angle, or you've woken up in the same house and someone has shifted all the furniture a foot sideways. Which must sound incredibly dull to a European, used to taking a step and speaking a different language, seeing the world in a different way. But my point is, maybe our borders do mean more than I've generally thought.

Maybe it has as much to do with geography as anything, with the weather and topography carving slight but inevitable differences in our psyches. Of all the state borders I've crossed, I think this has been my favourite, because it was actually based on something real-the Border Ranges. Perhaps even more so than the River Murray, which looks more or less the same on both sides. The first people I talked to in Queensland (4km in at the Natural Bridge National Park) spoke of the (rainy) weather leaking through from NSW, as if affronted by such an inferior import sneaking over the border. And despite initial cold and rain (the bits that leaked over the range) it was true- I rode from rainy NSW to sunny Queensland.

I also felt changed by the crossing. From doubtful and trepidatious at the bottom, with warnings of steepness from a local I spoke to ringing in my ears, and intimidated by the new knowledge that this climb is 'part of the international training circuit' (way out of my league, right?), to invigorated, confident and with renewed belief in infinite possibilities after breakfast on the border. After that I went singing down the green rainbow filled valley, and felt I could be the only person in the world. I then celebrated with a relaxed stop at Natural Bridge national park. Oh Rainforest. The newness of my surroundings was confirmed by immediately seeing two new (for me) bird species- logrunner and emeral dove.

The next day, lulled by my border exploits into a false confidence in my hill capabilities, I decided to tackle Mt Tamborine for good dose of rainforest before heading into Brisbane. A few people had commented on the steepness of the climb, but that happens for every hill and you get so used to people telling you you're crazy that you just stop listening after a while. Well, already not in the best of spirits after taking 2 hours to shake off Gold Coast roads and traffic, with their creepy sterile new retirement villages stretching into infinity, I realised at the sight of my first 'Very steep climb ahead' sign that I may have been about to get more than I bargained for. My not-so-fresh legs burned, protested and faltered early on. If I hadn't already come up and down a steep 1km climb I may well have retreated, back to a flat highway, a train, anything... But onwards I reluctantly went. After various tactics, including walking, pushing, pulling and looking forlornly at passing utes with empty trays (perhaps I could feign mechanical failure for a lift?) I settled on 100 pedals, stop for 10 breaths, 100 pedals and so on... inching my way up the mountain. Gone was any previous effort of putting on a smile for passing traffic (gotto keep up the image of cycle touring)-this was painful and I didn't care who saw my grimaces. I fell to my usual tactic of hiding my grumpiness in food- budget for the day be damned. When I found a bakery I ate cake, a nut stand, I ate nuts and when after 3 long hours I found a fudge shop at the top, oh boy did I eat fudge.

So yes, some days are hard. Some days my body sings along and I just don't want to get off the bike, but days like yesterday I drag my muscles kicking and screaming, 'just a little further'. It's a continuum, and luckily most of my days have been towards the happier end. But perhaps it is only on the other end that I can learn certain things about my own nature, power and potential. But I'm in no hurry to repeat it.

I am aware there is a bunch of ground I haven't really covered in my writings, focussing more on these dramatic Queensland hills. Well, I can't give all my stories away for nothing, but here is a grab bag for you:

In the past couple of weeks I have ridden long stretches of expansively flat river delta roads. I have wondered whether I am that character from a Douglas Adams book who is a rain god without knowing it, eventually realising when I saw a weather report that it wasn't just me, it seemed to be raining everywhere. I have been stung by a bee on the foot moments after pondering the deliciousness of walking barefoot, and moments before watching the full moon rise dripping honey into the sea. I have ridden through sugar cane and banana country and partaken in local delights from roadside stalls, that in some areas seem to be outside every second house (how wonderful that they survive here,where in other areas they have become uneconomical, mainly I believe due to repeated thefts- are these more honest roads or are these volcanic soils just more drippingly fertile, producing surpluses to be shared?). I have enjoyed brief interludes with friends- Tony and Tim from my Otesha travels, dear Jen from Sydney, who came to 'visit' my moving home en route back from Qld. I have been willingly waylaid in Byron Bay for a few days, seduced by a cuddly poodle, a very comfortable bed and good company. I have fallen deeply into Love in the Time of Cholera, gobbling down pages in rests by the roadside (and feel I may never have made it up Mt Tamborine if I hadn't been buoyed by the love finally being requited after 80 long years that felt like it). I have slept on the verandah of a lovely village community centre, feeling at home surrounded by community gardens and environmental education signs. And I have eaten a lot of bananas (perhaps my next song will be an ode to the banana, or to porridge, I can't decide...)

Almost always going in the right direction and other adventures

Well, I feel almost like I haven't earned another entry, this past week has been so luxurious and restful. But I guess that's part of my point in travelling 'slowly and curiously'- that cycle touring doesn't have to be a macho, sweating, strenuous leg-pumping rush, but can actually be a really lovely holiday. I've also been making the most out of a string of contacts along this beautiful stretch of coast, as I know that the further I get from home the less frequent will be the familiar faces offering warm beds.

So, here is my week in a nutshell:
Wed 19th- cycled ~85 km from Port Macquarie to South-West Rocks (the last 40km flat as a pancake!)
Thurs 20th- exploration day in SW Rocks
Fri 21st- Cycled ~40km to Grassy Head
Sat 22nd- Cycled almost 80 km to Bellingen (with an involuntary detour and double-back via Bowraville)
Sun 23rd- rest day in Bellingen
Mon 24th- Rest and exploration day in Bellingen with my lovely cousin Kate
Tues 25th- Cycled ~30km to Sawtell to stay with the lovely Arthurs, friends of Mum and Dad, and their three crazy beagles.

It's interesting, living without deadlines, that I still seem to be good at creating things to rush for. Ferries with limited timetables, or a chosen destination for the day, with accidental sleep-ins and delays thrown in meaning that it ends up being a squeeze to get there in daylight... Has this been my way of living for so long that I can't help creating deadlines for myself? Or is it a necessary way of keeping momentum and motivation? I think it might be a little of both...

I did find myself involuntarily racing the sun on Saturday when after some energetic hill climbing on my chosen back-road to Bellingen I discovered that the rest of the road was actually non-existent, having been blocked by landslides about a year ago- the sort of information you just don't get from a wiggly line on a map. Fellow cycle-touring friends, Mel and Be, have the maxim 'you're always going in the right direction'. Normally I think this is true, but found it a little difficult to convince myself that when I suddenly had to back-track 10 hilly kilometres and my leisurely 50km day suddenly turned into almost 80km. But there's nothing like the motivation of a friendly face, warm abode and tasty dinner, and I pushed on, and was greeted by a picture-perfect sunset as I rode the last few kilometres up the verdant and humming Bellinger valley. If we want to play the happy game, I guess you could say I've learnt to ask locals about back-roads, or 'at least now I can say I've been to Bowraville'. Or you could just let me be a grump and log those couple of hours up as a waste of a lamington (my 'fuel' in Macksville before this particular detour- and I know it's not exactly low GI).



Despite these manufactured deadlines (which I do seem to be getting slowly better at shaking off), this week has had plenty of timeless wanderings and spacious adventures. The textured pocket-like beaches of South-West Rocks were my very own playground for a day, clambering over great basalt staircases, lazing on almost-empty stretches of sand, but for a couple of fisherman, and plunging into the frothy waters of the Gap Beach, which was saved from development years ago thanks to the efforts of a group of locals, including my hosts (my dear friend Perdi's parents, David and Karen). Later that day David, a fisherman took me for an outing in his boat, mentioning that we'd probably put out the lines and catch some dinner too. Some of you may have been surprised in my last entry to read of me eating fish, having been vegetarian for some twelve years now. Well I was rather surprised myself, after dabbling a little in pescivory, to find myself suddenly pulling in fish after fish after fish. A little overwhelming for this little inlander vegetarian! I confess after the excitement of the first few I started quietly willing the fish not to bite, a little guiltily knowing it's how David earns his crust. But luckily for David, and not so luckily for the fishes, marine cross-species telepathy is not one of my talents, and we caught plenty for dinner, plus bait for later fishing. And I do admit that dinner that night was pretty darn tasty, especially with the spectacular views from the boat still whirling in my head.
(This is a view of the Gap Beach)


In other watery adventures, I had a lovely afternoon canoeing with my cousin Kate on the Urunga estuary yesterday (azure kingfishers, a mangrove heron).. watched a whale flip-flopping its tail at Grassy Head, and have spent some delicious hours lazing by the glassy Bellinger River.
So much space and time for adventures and dawdling, and yet still covering ground. Onward, northward! I'm definitely reaching the land of t-shirt weather, bananas and tropical fruit -mmm I had a star-fruit from a roadside stall dripping down my arm for morning tea today- I could get used to this.