16/04/26 Chowilla Camp 11 to Lake Victoria

Chowilla Game Reserve turned on a stunning sunrise to start my day.

I followed the National Park track beside Chowilla Creek as empty campsites ticked past on my right, each one with fire pits and  water access. By midday I'd made it all the way to Todd's Obelisk which marked the border between South Australia and New South Wales.

Back in 1868 Todd set up a temporary observatory here and fixed the position of the 141st meridian of longitude, on which the border which SA shared with NSW and Vic was based. This presented a slight problem for Vic and SA as it highlighted the unfortunate fact that the border south of the river, surveyed in 1850ish, was some 3.2km west of where it should be. NSW didn't care. Victoria shrugged, who cares if we've got a strip of South Australia's red sandhills and saltbush anyways? South Australia clutched its pearls in horror and marched off to court to claim what rightfully belonged to all South Australians. In 1914 they finally conceded defeat , having run out of legal options, and now the SA border has a kink in it to accommodate the mismatch between the two surveys.

I really wanted to visit the kinky border but time prevented me.  Todd's obelisk was the best I could do.

From Todd's obelisk the road went downhill literally and figuratively, over floodlands of  saltbush and shallow red sandhills. The road itself was bright red sand. So much sand! I pushed and pulled and swore at my bike. I tried to ride and kept falling off when I ran patches of sneaky soft sand.

I gave up and pushed the bike along the side of the road through the bushes, praying that prickles and thorns didn't get me. This went on for rather too long.  Along the way I met the cheery couple that I'd seen yesterday. "We just decided to come home the back way from Wentworth", they said. "We thought it'd be a nice scenic trip." Well it was scenic all right. I had plenty of time to appreciate the scenery as I cross-trained my way through it. 

After too many km of pushing through sand I came to a decision point with three options, all of them aggressively signed as private property and assuring me I was being monitored by CCTV which I suspected was somewhat of a fib. I checked my map. I dithered. I rode down to the old Post Office but it was not inhabited and could not answer my questions about the 'back way' to Wentworth. 

According to Google Old Wentworth Road traversed the 7km of private property that stood between me and Rufus River Road. What was the worst that could happen? An irate landowner could toss me into his ute and turf me off his property! As long as he turfed me onto Rufus River road I'd be happy, and a little bit of turfing was preferable to pushing back through all that sand. Through the gate I went, closing it carefully behind me.

Look at me: first the lean and run, now trespassing. I'm on a slippery slope into lawlessness here.

Clack! said my bike, as I pushed it over rocks on the defunct Old Wentworth road, checking over my shoulder for land owners while goats scampered out of my way. 

That was a new sound. I couldn't see anything that was making it. 

Another rock. Clack! A closer look. The bolt holding one side of my rack to the bike had sheared completely off.

Bummer. I blamed Mr 4wd from 12 months ago. If I had a voodoo doll of him I would have poked pins in it. Not that I had pins either, but it's the thought that counts.

Many zip ties later I continued, rather gingerly and with great gentleness when it came to bumps, and eventually exited Private Property (no signs at all on this end) to Rufus River Road which was wide and flat and far more accommodating of gentle riding. It even promised, in its width and general trafficability, that traffic would be likely to come along and rescue me should rescue be needed. Not that a single vehicle actually came along, but the thought was reassuring anyway.

I changed my plans, skipping the rough road down to Big Bend campsite and instead pushing on to Lake Victoria. Shadows lengthened as I rode, and night began to creep up from the east. Sunset had a brief colour party in the west, and I thanked my lucky stars for dynamo hubs and not having to think about lights.

Night comes.

Day goes.

It was dark whem I rolled into Lake Vic. The toilets were closed (oh well, another night peeing in the bushes) but the showers were open. There was free camping around somewhere but the carpark didn't appeal to me so I embraced my best hobo self and set myself up in the Lake Vic lookout shelter. 

Last light over Lake Victoria.

The flies went away (finally!). A single mosquito turned up for work and was dispatched  without mercy. I was too tired to cook and went to bed without any dinner.