20/04/2023 CWCT Day 5: You Can Check Out But You Can Never Leave

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We checked out of the Dunedoo CP bright and early and I headed out on Digilah Rd while Roger drove north to stash the car and ride back toward Dunedoo.

Last view of the painted Dunedoo silos.


Here be the Talbragar River which wends it's way past and around Dunedoo, and has a respectable amount of water in it.

Sheep posed picturesquely beside waterholes.

The riding was pleasant, but uphill. Just a little bit uphill at first, and then a lot more uphill. I took the opportunity to do some cross-training aka walking. Purely by choice, of course.

Pretty rock patterns beside the road.

I claimed KOM for the win, and started a fantastic downhill.

Victory! Which to be honest wasn't hard since I was the only one in the race.
 

The bitumen finished and the ride got more interesting, with little water crossings and shady trees and not a lot of pedaling due to the tailwind and a false flat in my favour.

To walk or pedal? Always the dilemma when approaching a creek crossing.
 

I did a little zig zag through a farmer's yard and then away in the distance spied an oncoming cyclist , not enjoying the wind as much as me (I don't know why, he kept grizzling about head winds but I hadn't experienced any). 

 

We swapped tales of the road ahead/behind, and off I went to find a picnic spot beside the creek for lunch.

This will do.

Obligatory lunch time selfie.

There were more creek crossings.  My feet stayed dry due to some awesome balancing skills.  It was all very pleasant.


The final creek crossing.
 

I heard the trucks on the highway long before I saw them.  The car was as Roger had left it, tucked in undisturbed behind the railway line. 


End of today's ride.
 

We had considered Mendooran as a camp for the night but (we're getting soft) snubbed it on account of having no showers and rumours of puncture-inducing prickles.  Instead we went back to Dunedoo and thus it was that although we had checked out of the Hotel California we didn't leave at all, merely moving from the grandeur of the cabin on the hill down to the slums of caravan corner where we had to share the camp kitchen with the Flannel Fellas and swapped the rumble of trucks for the rumble of trains on the line behind our tent.


Home for the night: Dunedoo Caravan Park (again).

 






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