We ride from Dixons Caravan Park (Port Hedland) to Whim Creek. There is confusion about exactly what we're riding to, as there are a number of creeks on the map and none of them are at the roadhouse. We're told that there's a nice river and swimming hole there. We're up for 100km of riding anyway, so the group decide to stop at 100km or the creek, whichever is first. I think.
It's hot. Hot. We're away from the coast and there's no wind. I compose bad poetry, more verses to my "mad c*nt" epic poem which now includes snow skiing, rock climbing, walking and cycle touring in two countries. And it's consistently crap.
I also compose the wake-up song. For some reason we've (Jonas and I) starting waking people up by singing. Something to do with personal safety, I think. Anyway, to the tune of frere Jaque we get:
|
we think you should wake up now (x2) |
Jonas eventually catches up with me, so I ride with him and an English tourist we meet. Russell is biking round and taking buses for some bits, but he's interesting to talk to. Him and Jonas run off to take close ups of a fire that we pass. Mad buggers. It's hot enough from the sun without going into a bush fire. (grass fire? scrub fire? call it what you will). After the bush fire we roll on...
We're into low rolling hills that are basically bare of vegetation (it looks like tussock, and burns easily) and we have a bit of uphill. There's no water at Barra Barra Creek, so I keep riding. I pass a group of aborigines with two cars, one broken down. It's a bit scary somehow, being in the middle of nowhere and riding past a big group of black people. Liberal white boy racism, I think. They're smiley happy people anyway, and like the trike. I stop to chat. Some time later they pass me, towing one car.
The roadhouse is just over the hill, but it seems to take a long time to get to it. I've become used to seeing roadhouses from 10+kms and slowly approaching them. But just round a gentle bend over a (dry) creek is the roadhouse turnoff. I buy a drink and wait for whoever is behind me. We bum round for a while and decide that the river sounds good, so we keep riding. In theory we should only go 5km past the roadhouse, but we decide to keep pushing and turn back at 10km or so. Or so, as it turns out is about 13kms, where we find a river with swimming hole. It's 1pm, ideal time for a swim. Jonas had an attack of conscience or something, so he hitched back at about 3pm to find the rest of them. Well, mostly I think he wanted them to come and swim too.
Jonas rides at about 25kph, which is faster than my usual 19 or so, and a lot faster than the 17kph that seems to be the trikes comfortable cruise speed. Am going to have to look at a rear fairing or something, perhaps a snow foam model as Ian Humphries used at Interlaken (world human powered vehicle championships in Switzerland last year).
I spent the afternoon lying round reading and writing (as usual). When Jonas eventually turns up in the van we're officially naughty. The group has decided not to ride the extra 13kms, and will catch us tomorrow. We should not have gone the extra kilometre! Bad, bad front riders. This is complicated by the fact that three other people had taken off to climb a hill, and when the back riders passed their partly hidden bikes they got worried because there was no note. So there was a bit of fear/ anger at the meeting, and because the people involved couldn't be yelled at some of it got transferred to me and Jonas. But there's also the lazy thing - biking extra miles is deeply offensive to some people, especially when it's hot. Go the group!
Later: It also turns out that Evan and John left yesterdays camp after 11am, so they were running late the whole day. It must have been pretty bad coming through the hills later on I think, it was hot enough at 11am. And the river we're at is actually more like 135km for the day, after we'd adjusted for Moz's optimism. Jonas finally arrived back in the van (which is called Alan, by the way) at about 8pm. I was in bed. The meeting had seen pressure from Antoinette to drop the daily average from 100km to 90km, backed up by Beth and Tali.
All of this escaped me at the time, I just lay round in the sun. So dinner was a bit sparse, but by this stage I'm carrying a days food at all times anyway because of the number of times the group has had dinner after I'd like to be in bed. I habitually cook my rice in mid- afternoon and either eat before the group arrive for dinner, or cook by myself as the rest of them are unpacking and resting.
What I was wondering about was Kelly. I'd kind of broken up with her when I left Sydney, but was having second thoughts. So I spent a fair bit of time wondering what I was going to do after the ride, whether I should stay in Perth as planned or go back to Smogney. Not helped by having a book or Orson Scott Card short stories that I'm reading. His stuff often makes me either sad, or very people-intimacy focussed. Not too good when I'm in a small, dysfunctional group of people in the middle of nowhere.