Posts

18/05/26 And Just Like That.

-
Image
If I could have ridden away from Bourke I would have done so in a heartbeat.   I would have ridden toward the head of the river, so tantalisingly close, along the little gravel roads and riverside bush camps that I'd plotted and planned for, across the 14 river crossings of the Cambanoora Gorge where the Condamine tumbled in its hurry to leave the mountains. But I didn't. On Monday I worked in Bourke while rain clattered on the roof and outside of town the claypans turned to sheets of raindrop-dimpled water. Bourke was the final part on the Darling,the point where the steamers could no longer navigate the fickle river. Rain just starting to fall. From the verandah, Port of Bourke Hotel. "My doctor's gonna ring you," said Daughter on Monday night.  Doctors don't usually ring the mothers of adult daughters just to chat now, do they? For the last couple of months, while she played with her cat and caught the tram and went to work and took photographs at soccer a...
Post a Comment
Read more

16/05/2026 Yanda Campground to Bourke

-
Image
  Red sky at night, shepherd's delight.  Red sky at morning, shepherd's warning. I wasn't a shepherd but I considered myself warned.  Time to get up and moving. Rain was forecast and would fall very conveniently while I was working in Bourke, and hopefully not in such quantities that it could close any of the roads I planned to ride on.  I was excited about the rain: I hoped that it would put a little colour into the dessicated landscape through which I'd been riding. As I was packing up a ute roared into the campground.  Two hefty men and a dog jumped out and rapidly set up swags, one on each of the tables in the day-use shelter.  They took off their boots (just the men, not the dog), jumped into their swags, and by the time I wheeled out of town the swags were snoring and I had no idea where the dog was, but it was whining.  I rode the long way out so as not to disturb them. The tabletop snorer's camp. Now why didn't I think to sleep on my table....
Post a Comment
Read more

15/05/2026 Rose Isle Station to Yanda Campground

-
Image
  I had a little photo session with Steve in the morning, before we headed off in opposite directions along the Darling: him south toward Trilby Station and me north toward  the Yanda Campsite in the Gunderabooka Conservation Area. Bye Steve, enjoy your ride. I want one of these.  Then again, if I had one of these I'd have missed out on all those beautiful bush camps, so maybe I'll stick with what I've (not) got. It was uneventful riding on a sealed road with a sneaky little head wind.  There was no sign of moisture in the country around me: the ground was bare and grey, the trees silver or dull green.  There were occasional goats.  Kangaroos abounded (ha ha), most of them too far away by the time I stopped and tried to grab a photo. Except for this one.  I think it was an orphan, or abandoned. My office, with goats. The usual 11:00 clutch of caravans came past, having checked out from their last caravan park at 10:00.  Then I had a surprise centr...
Post a Comment
Read more

14/05/26 Louth to Rose Isle Station

-
Image
  I thought my caravanning neighbours would keep me up all night. They crashed and bashed around in the manner of the inebriated trying to be silent, stage-whispering "Be quiet! There's a tent just there!" Next minute it was morning so I must have been tireder than I'd thought. And I wouldn't have indulged myself in a little petty crashing and bashing over breakfast would I? That would be mean. Di at the pub filled my water bottles for free, so I ordered a coffee as quasi payment and then realised I hadn't paid as I sat outside sipping coffee and charging my phone. "It's on me!" said Di, and wouldn't change her mind, not that I tried too hard. I think I'll start donating to the RFDS on behalf of all the freebies I'm getting. Coffee in the morning sun, looking back toward the levee bank with the river beyond. "Port of Louth"??  I don't think it's been that for a long time. Double Louth. Long stretches of the road were...
Post a Comment
Read more