2/12/23 Port Vincent to Ardrossan: Cliffs And Sand

I left Port Vincent at the respectable hour of 0900, with the master strategy of cycling north so that the wind was at my back. The WtY went right past my front door and took me along the Port Vincent waterfront.  I passed the Port Vincent Kiosk where, having cycled less than one km, I couldn't justify the indulgence of $6:00 coffee and donuts. 

Port Vincent, unlike Wallaroo, very sensibly stuck their marina at the far end of the beach leaving the foreshore for everyone to enjoy. I followed the WtY signs past the marina even though I knew this was a walking section (cyclists divert to the road please) and there would be steps.

Indeed there were.

 

Steps accomplished, off I went along the cliff top.

There were lots of opportunities for bicycle posing.

The path followed the coastline through the Port Vincent Golf Club, where bicycles and walkers were firmly advised to give way to golfers.

I didn't see any golfers at all.

On the Port Vincent golf course, black was the new green.

Past the golf course the track narrowed and got as close to the edge of the cliff as it was possible to be.

Round we go,

and off along the cliffs.

Being such an awesome cyclist, I walked carefully along the top for a while and then bailed the three metres back to the road, where I had almost the same views for far less concentration and much less fear of gravity.  The Old Coast Road followed the cliffs all the way to Port Julia, with detours here and there out to the cliff tops and little tracks down to clusters of shacks snuggled in gullies and tiny bays.

Port  Julia from the lookout.

At Port Julia the WtY very inconsiderately took to the beach and rock hopped around to Black Point, which meant I had to take to the road again.

Not my favourite place to be, let's get this over with.

The Main Coast Road was not exciting but I took every opportunity (hello downhills!) to sit aboard my bicycle and let the wild wind do the work all the way to Pine Point where I went looking for an ice cream.

No ice creams here.

At Pine Point I discovered that the section of the WtY between Pine Point and Rogues Point had yet to be completed and was still, as the sign coyly put it, 'unformed'. Having already experienced the 'formed' WtY and with the day getting on, back to the Main Coast Road I went. Oh dear, more tailwind, what a shame.

There were trucks and caravans too. I pedaled as fast as I could.

The WtY and I were reunited at Rogues Point/James Well, a fine collection of fishing shacks and holiday houses scattered along the coast.

James Well was named after Mr James, who developed the well for his cattle. This was originally a  point of natural seepage, long used as a water source for indigenous folk. As always, history did not mention the opinions of the indigenous folk when some random cattleman came along, dug up their soak hole, and started using the water for his thirsty cattle.

The WtY trail notes suggested that 2.5km north of James Well was a "sandy gully which may challenge walkers and cyclists."

They weren't wrong. I walked. And walked.

Once the sand was over I had the track all to myself beside shallow sea pools through vivid purple coastal vegetation.

I popped back to civilization at the Parara Bush campground, where back in 2016 six sperm whales beached and died in the shallow waters. This was an unusual event as sperm whale are deep ocean animals and not usually seen in the shallow waters of the Gulf St Vincent. A memorial was built with dolomite boulders representing the whales and information detailing how the Androssan community dealt with the problems of six very large dead whales on their foreshore.

The Viterra wheat silos dominated the port at Androssan, which also exports dolomite from the nearby mine, and salt from the Cheetham salt refinery at Price.  Despite having all these things to export, the port was very quiet, not a single ship in at the dock.

I settled myself in a sheltered spot above the jetty, ate junk food, and waited for my lift. Roger arrived, having spent a day of gentle exercise and rest in Port Vincent. Purely in the interests of market research he had sampled the $6 coffee and doughnuts and found them most satisfactory.  

We walked out along the Ardrossan jetty and said hello to several fishermen, all of whom weren't catching any fish. Yet.

The tide was out.

 

Back at the cabin the wind still howled and a new caravan had settled in to camp.  The other cabins were still empty, and we still had exclusive use of the ablutions block.  The sun set without fanfare in a cloudy sky.

And that was the end of the day.