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Published: December 10th 2017
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With a hot day looming and another big ride ahead of us, we were rudely awoken by a chorus of avian minstrels. Lets see, squawking ducks, shrill seagulls and petulant peacocks were all partners in crime in waking us up. Unimpressed with their "bird behaviour", we headed to the shower block, and spent an eternity under the luxurious hot water. Returning to camp, it was time to take stock of the bike situation. Today would be the start of our second week on the road since we left home. It seems like months since we farewelled family and friends. Time seems to be in a much slower dimension when cycling long tour. Today we would be travelling the Coorong, a 145 kilometre stretch of salt plains from Kingston to Meningie. It would be a good idea to unpack all panniers, redistribute the weight top and bottom, front and back, so that the bikes would be better balanced when riding. Especially that now we would have to carry more water between such long stretches, such as the Coorong. My knees are starting to ache, so a seat adjustment is in order so that my knees are just slightly bent at the bottom
of the pedal rotation.
Bikes repacked, bodies refreshed after long hot shower, it was time to set off for the 45ks to Kingston S.E. (Don't know what S.E stands for, probably South East.)Along the way we passed some very old abandoned stone buildings, this area was colonised early in the proclamation of the state of South Oz. We also witnessed Daisy the cow welcoming new born calf minutes after giving birth. But all not good was about to break loose, first my repacked tent fly came loose and got jammed in my back wheel at speed, I very nearly lost control of the bike and crashed, phew!!! that was close. Repacking my tent fly I set off to catch speedy Colin, when a dude in a 4 wheel drive passed me and flagged me down. "Did you lose this?", he was holding up my stackhat, that he found 10ks.back. I thanked him very much, had a little chat, he and his son were heading to Darwin from Melbourne, I wished them well, and set off after Colin once more.
A few ks up the road, Colin was parked in a rest area, he had the billy boiling for
a hot cuppa. After tea and bikkies, we soon rode into Kingston S.E, home of "Larry the Big Lobster". Larry belongs to the disgraceful lot, of big things that seem to adorn the countryside, for Tommy tourist to dribble over and take the obligatory snapshot of grosse. "Big Larry" is perched on top of a seafood restaurant that celebrates the local lobster industry. I am not sure if the lobsters signed up for this, imagine if some cannibalistic society had an oversized human strung up over the barbeque area. Me the shameful touro, just had to snap "Big Larry", however anti-touro Colin ("I respect him for that"), decided to take a photo of the house across the road from Larry, as a protest photo. (Stick it to the man Colin!)
Before we left Kingston, we stocked up with 6 litres of water each, not knowing what potable water we would find on this big stretch of pretty much nothing. We studied the maps, to find a roadhouse at Salt Creek, about 85ks up the Coorong, offering hot food and showers. The day was heating up, probably low 30's, as we pedalled heavy bikes into a hot headwind up the
Coorong. Our weary legs just kept on pedalling under the blistering sun. Drinking heaps of water, just trying to keep hydrated, we just kept going and going and going, and so was the sun. We were hoping that the roadhouse would be our oasis in the desert, with hot food and showers for the weary cyclists. But just like the desert mirage that just keeps moving further into the distance, so was our surreal Shangrila.
After riding a massive 128ks today and over 1,000ks for the trip, we finally arrived late in the day, just before sunset. Roadhouse closed, no hot food, no showers, no Shangrila. So we mustered what little energy we had left, to ride on to find a camp for the night. A little further on we found a track leading off into a nature reserve that led to a clearing in the bush. "That's it we are stuffed, this will have to do". Setting sun, fading light, stuffed bodies, we set up our tents and cooked baked beans with eggs on toast. Late moon rising, maybe we could salvage something of the day with a moonlight jam in the bush. Na!!!! Mosquitoes, midgees, sandflies, and
meat ants, eating us alive. Maybe we were the "Big Humans" the latest tourist attraction for the insect brigade to feast on. Well those pesky insects, sure put the kybosh on that. "Goodnight Colin, lets hope for a better day tomorrow."
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