 Great satisfaction in cutting this big island into two equal parts. Leaving Boulia 15 days ago would also be the last full rest day of the ride. Thirteen hundred kilometres in fifteen days. If I look at each of those days - they all were enjoyable rides. The fitness from two months pushing head wind allowed good averages speeds without burning reserves. My sleep dropped from 12 to 10 hours another sign that I was working within the limits of fuel, sleep and fitness. There is real pleasure in reaching this level of cruise mode. The last few days have been spent devising a rating system for waves from passing vehicles:
So glad I took the half day at Middleton Hotel. Meeting good people and relaxing with a bit of fun. Swiss couple Urs and Heidi crossed paths three times over the next week. Once with the vital supply of pomegranate juice as the temperatures soared. Perfect timing. There were a couple of bush camps between Boulia and Winton, and a cattle bore camp on the way to Longreach. Spent the night with noisy kangaroo drinkers. Clouds of other insects joined the flies at meal time and my coffee was enriched with more than a few black bodies. Longreach was a town of odd angled streets which fooled my compass a few times. Odd circles to the supermarket. Thanks to motorcyclist David for his generous shout of my usual huge breakfast. Avocado appeared for the first time among the bacon eggs and more unhealthy stuff. Barcaldine started a trend of closed pubs, perhaps three in a row was too many for even Queensland locals. Another thanks to Helen at the caravan park for donating the tent site. Another cancer survivor. Jerico reversed the trend of high-thirty temperatures, plunging to a chilly five degrees overnight. Hands fumbling to light the cooker in the chilling wind. The road towards Alpha started the climb into the Great Australian Divide and Central Highlands. The Drummond Range changed dramatically from the horizon-less flats to some grunty climbs and corners less than ten kilometres apart. Alpha pub continued the trend of closed pubs, leaving the little town totally dry. Bogantunga was the only place with water after Alpha. Couldn’t raise the keeper of the museum to resolve the mystery of the strange name. The one train of the day flashed past just before dark. Hints of Outback express luxury noted through the windows. Emerald came as a surprise, suddenly no longer outback town territory as the Big Mac signs announced a slightly disappointing sameness. Dingo Roadhouse followed a hundred and thirty km down the road, back to outback basics but surprisingly good food. Another classic outback pub at Westward was a fitting last night on the road. Rough but everything I needed to cook breakfast on the veranda - see the sunrise relax for the short stint into Rockhampton. A final thanks to all supporters. Those who contributed to the cancer cause, and those who pushed my dots along the hard stretches. e to edit.  Lily dale Valley  Line dancers through the wringer Middleton  Middleton Hotel Bar  Wool wagon Ifracombe   Flatlands coming into Longreach  First boab tree  First time I noticed Queensland cactus  Happy corner Capricorn Highway  Used car lot Capricorn Highway  Great Roadhouse food at Dingo  Westwood “donga” final night on the road  Heading into Rockhampton 
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 Where else on the globe can you ride 11 hard days and not encounter a town in between? Not many places I suspect. Leaving Alice Springs required a bit of adjustment to the riding routine and back to the bush camp stops. The problem with the Plenty Highway was more one of food supply than water. Water supply I had prearranged with the three main cattle stations along the route, Jervois, Tobermorey and Glenormiston. Food I had stocked up in Alice with a hope the small shop at Tobermorey could tide me over for the last few days to Boulia. Leaving Gem Resort 140km from Alice launched me onto the proper Plenty after a relatively tame few 70km days on sealed roads. I was reminded that this was unpredictable country demanding respect. The sites for bush camping were smouldering from bush fire sweeping ahead of me. I had no choice but to continue onto Atitjere a small indigenous community under the Hart Ranges. The community store provided a quick stock up of water, and I enjoyed some conversations with the locals. However the sky was signalling the next change with gale winds and heavy rain. Advice from the district council was that rain would make the road impassible for up to three days. My tent was lashed to the picnic tables in the rest area. The wind made it impossible to light my gas cooker. The power generator engineer, a young Indian on his first week of remote posting came to the rescue. No one had told him that there was a store in the community so he spotted the chance to offload some of his six month supply of tinned food. He arrived with an impossible load of tins and a hot jug with coffee. The worst night was lightened further when a small bird appeared between my arms and the coffee cup soaking up the warmth of the cup. Dinner consisted of a tin of beans accompanied superbly with a tin of cold peas. The night passed with the tent mostly airborne around me apart from when the rain became heavy enough to counteract the upward force. When morning appeared several years later I poked my head out to a clear sky but the wind still howled and continued to do so directly in my face for the next ten days. I made the decision to ignore the advice and head out, I figured the wind would quickly dry any damp spots remaining. All was going fine until the diversion for road works consisted of a track cut through the raw sand, now black gluey mud. Then along came Justin, a grader driver from Port Hedland. He stopped his grader and we chatted for fifteen minutes or so, then he cut me a fresh hard path right through the fifteen kilometres of diversion. Cycling rough stuff is easy with your own personal grader. The only failure was the lack of fuel from the tins of beans which were well burnt out by the end of nine hours. Next day saved me with a short ride to Jervois Station a chance to clean up and fix a few bike bits. The ride continued on the corrugations and head wind restricting progress to ten kph. Traffic was limited to four or five cars a day so it was great to stop for a Coke offered by a South African couple from Toowoomba. A few hard days riding brought me to Tobermorey Station. Well set up for passing campers, a shop with cold drinks and icecream but very little cyclist friendly supply top ups. Vietnamese instant noodles and two frozen pies for dinner. From Tobermorey I had another 250 km only broken by the Queensland Border and by Glenormiston Station, where I had previously arranged for water supply. Thanks to Nicky the Station manageress, and to Hugh the young Station hand and the young cowgirl kitchen hand for a few treats. But the station itself turned out to be a hidden oasis, with a long lake and manicured grass lawns in a stunning setting. It was hard to drag myself away. I had learnt that the headwind only reached full force just after 8am so I shifted my wake up schedule to a dark 5am, managed a couple of hours of wind free riding. Finally today the headwind relented and the seven and a half hours effort took me 110 kms all the way to Boulia, first town across the Queensland border.  300 metres of climbing out of Alice  Past the Tropic of Capricorn  A long way ahead across the Plenty  Desert special thorn bombs - one morning I counted 10 thorn holes in the rear tyre. Thanks to Stans Sealant the little plastic balls block the holes and it is ride on  Harts Range under which the Atitjere community nestles  Atitjere Community art  Morning Ghost Gum  Busy termites  Not so busy road workers  Lean grazing  Why not drive your Juicy rental across the Plenty  Tobermorey icecream pit stop   Preparing for border inspection  The Royal Flying Doctor Service is on call  Lizard camouflage  Every Camp produced a beautiful sunset and sunrise  The unexpected oasis of Glenormiston Station (what desert?)   My lunch view
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AuthorLindsay Gault, 
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