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Published: December 14th 2017
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Today is probably the hottest yet so far, the bush avian call was more melodic than the rowdy raucous Fra car' of yesterday morn. But wait there is another sound not too far from my tent, it sounded like footsteps, oh! shit!!. I have heard about naughty people murdering tourists in the remote places of S.A. Poo scared I took a sneaky peaky through the tent fly, I was so relieved to see "Will Wallaby" foraging around our campsite. Note to self, extra care is needed in choosing bush campsites. The first rule is to look for rubbish, especially beer cans or condoms, sure sign that the site is frequented by locals. Second is fresh car tyre tracks, what goes in, must come out, "Don't pitch tent on bush tyre tracks for obvious reasons. With the morning scare out of the way, it was time for my morning constitutional, yes like bears, we do it in the woods.
Packing up dry tents this morning was a bonus, first time in a long time, no overnight condensation on our tent fly's. With an even hotter day looming, still with northerly headwinds, we set off just after sunrise. Our weary legs and
sore bums were protesting after yesterdays mega ride, we backtracked to the roadhouse to fill up with water for the day. Water in S.A is crap, some is bore water, some is mega chlorinated poison to combat meningitis, and some times we get champagne tank water. Todays water came from the bore and was pretty good.
We rode shirtless for the first time today, until we could feel the hot sun burning our backs. We passed through the tiny towns of Policemans Point and Woods Wells Today would be mid 30's probably the hottest so far. We needed to stop in the shade about every ten kilometer's, to cool down, as the oppressive heat of the northerly headwinds were taking their toll on our already weary bodies after yesterdays mammoth ride. But like the brave adventurers we are, we just kept going "up the Coorong", battling our way to civilization. At Mcgrath's flat, the road turned north west, meaning this is the last time,we would see the sea. From there it was another 24 ks to Meningie. We rode straight for Lake Albert and literally jumped off the bikes, and dived into the cool waters of the lake. After
a splish and a splash we made a dash, to spend some cash at the nearest bar. We dropped anchor at the Meningie Hotel for a few liquid refreshments, and then set a northerly course.
And so now we head due north for Tailem Bend. Still bloody hot and battling even stronger headwinds. we once again just kept pushing our weary bodies. Salty Bill, an old fisherman, (what other kind is there?), pulled up for a chat under the shade of a big old tree. We told him of our travels so far and where we were riding to. He shook his head in disbelief, he thought we were telling him tall tales, the kind that old fishermen might tell. He wished us luck and gave us some juicy oranges, that quenched our thirst. We pushed on again in this ridiculous heat and strong headwinds. These conditions are really testing us now. Soon after we saw the sign pointing west to Wellington, anything to get a break from this punishing northerly wind.
And so, " go west young men", travelling west, meant we had a cross headwind, still tough, but not as tough as the northerl
y. we soon
came to Wellington on the banks of the mighty Murray River. "The Welly" South Australia's oldest county pub (1846) is at the eastern bank of the cable ferry punt across the grand old river. The pub has lush green lawns and seating for thirsty travellers like us. We badly needed liquid refreshment that only a hotellery can provide. After several cold beers that barely touched the sides, we loaded ourselves and bikes onto the ferry. We did in fact pay the ferryman for the trip to the other side, and like Caesar across the Rubicon, there was no going back. Having safely crossed, (as four Wellington ferries have sunk since the first ferry operated in 1839), we decided on more caravan park luxury, after another gruelling day, covering 105 hot kilometres on the bikes. After setting up tents, cool showers and fireside dinner, we produced our musical things and entertained 5 million pesky mosquitoes. "where's that bloody Aerogard Colin!"
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