07/05/2026 Making Progress: Wilcannia to Bush Camp

I woke to a southerly wind roaring in the trees and rolled out barely past sunrise, so excited was I by the prospect of moving again and with a tailwind to boot.

Ready to roll.

I had 20km under my belt when the admin staff from Council rang.  "The road's open!" they declared.  I thanked them politely and neglected to mention that I was already well on the way.

I don't care, I'm going anyway, I know the sign is wrong.

The road was (mostly) perfect, hitting the sweet spot between mud and dust, hard-packed by the few vehicles that had preceded me.

I spent the day on the flood plain, pushed along by a tailwind, mobs of emus and kangaroos crossing the road ahead of me but never close enough for a decent photo.  For the first time at lunch I had to sit in the sun rather than the shade to keep warm, the south wind having come all the way from Antarctica.  My little fly friends had cooled down considerably and for half the day I enjoyed cycling without a fly net.

Leopard tree!

I crossed the Paroo river on its way to join the Darling.

Not that it was contributing much.

Come 3pm 70km had ticked by and I knew I could get to Tilpa tomorrow without a second bush camp.  I called it a day and found somewhere to get off the road and into the scrub.  Lo and behold,  I even found a tenuous phone connection on a precise point of claypan 50m from the tent.

The wind died down and the air was still and cold.  I tucked myself in early to stay warm, and listened to the silence of the night.  For the first time in a long time, there were no goats. 

Goodnight.