The rain from the previous evening continued for most of the night. I didn't get to listen to that Podcast after all, as I fell asleep before I could even reach for my phone. The couple of times throughout the night I did wake slightly and could hear the rain still steadily falling on the fly of the tent.
Now; ever since I have entered New South Wales I have been having issues with this bloody daylight savings. I grew up with it as a kid but most of my adult life has been spent in Queensland where, thank goodness, daylight savings doesn't exist. I just hope the extra hour of daylight doesn't fade the paint work on the Kona...lol.
The delemna seems to be that I awake and look at my Garmin watch and it is on Eastern Standard Time. I lay there thinking I have still plenty of time to get up and when I do and get going, I realise via my Garmin 810 and phone that I am on bloody Daylight Savings Time. It's a good thing that I am not in too much of a hurry...lol. Well this morning was no different.
I dragged my Old Bum out of bed and prepared to get going. The start wasn't good, wet matches meant 'NO COFFEE'. Just what I needed. Anyway Baryugil was just down the road, surely it would have a general store with a pie and a coffee. A banana and some Wheetbix breakfast biscuits was all that I had, along with a slurp or two of a Barocca.
I headed off with a kind of overcast day that had broken sunshine trying to break through. It was a humid morning and I noticed the temperature start to climb rather rapidly. The last few days had been well below 30 degrees but now it was sitting on 32 and not even mid morning.
I knew that I had a good one hundred kilomters to go so the plan was to fill up with a coffee and a water at the town of Baryugil, that'll get me through.
As I had never been down this way before I expected it would be a descent all the way to Grafton, a bit like the beginning of the previous day. I couldn't be more wrong and the road continued downwards, but not before it set it's path upwards first. A one hundred kilometer rollercoaster ride...phew!
Up and down, up and down I pedalled. The upward rises were short but sharp causing a break in any rythum that may have been gathered, many causing me to get off and walk. I think the fact that little dinner the night before, and minimal breakfast prior to the days ride had an effect as well, this is my story and I am sticking to it.
Coasting down one of the short hills I noticed a town's signage and thought, "You beauty". But it was only a small aborigianal settlement and there was no store to be seen. So onward I travelled.
Not far down the road was Baryugil...again I gathered some excitement thinking that a coffee and some food would be available. No, wrong again. Baryugil is just another small aboriginal settlement with no store. Feeling the worms bight I pulled off to the side of the road in some shade and dragged out the last of my meusli bars and Wheetbix biscuits along with some more Barocca.
By now I was starting to look at my water conservatively. After leaving Baryugil sips instead of gulps became the norm. With the day's temp still rising and well into the mid 30's this was going to be a marathon.
Up and down I continued and the hope of getting a coffee was no longer. It was about mid afternnon and the legs and stomach were feeling empty. I started considering finding somewhere to camp and callit quits for the day. But the lack of water, and no phone service changed my mind and I kept turning the pedals, turn after turn.
I did stop about 3:00 pm in a shady spot by the road. I was determined to not let this day turn into another like the second day of the trip. I sat, rested, had two biddons of Barocca and some salted crakers with peanut butter. Whilst it was a good, and I needed rest, it left with me with little water.
I was desperately trying to estimate how far Copmanhurst was, and try and work out how far it was before water. Well, I had no choice but to keep going as dry as it may get.
Ten kilometers north of Copmanhurst I saw a picnic area. I was excited to see a small water tank attached to the structure that contained picnic tables. I pulled in and was ecstatic. Not only was the water in the tank clean and cool, the scenery was magnificent. It was a particular lookout and it overlooked north west through a lot of the valleys I had travelled. Beautiful, shady with good flat areas under the protection of some Jacarandas made this the perfect camping spot. If only I was staying, I was on the promise of a good steak, a beer and a long hot shower. So I passed.
Rejuvinated by fresh water and a good shady rest I encroached the borders of Copmanhurst. The hills continued to rise and fall in perfect consistency, but the legs felt better although the stomach was growling louder than the exhaust brake on a prime-mover.
I pulled into a park for a quick rest and to ring my mother to let her know how far away I was. My mother is a bit hard at hearing and I was ringing during Family Fued...needless to say there was no connection at that point.
I left Copmanhurst around 4:30 pm and continued up the steep hill on the eastern side of town, then turned onto Rogan Bridge Rd for the final twenty eight kilometers. I no longer turned the corner and well, it happened all over again. A little thunder, a light sprinkle and then the showering. Where was all this water only an hour ago?
Growing webbed feet, gills and scales by now I just kept my head down and my feet turning the Deore cranks. The undulation had levelled out some to my delight and it was much easier going than before.
It had been some time since I had ridden down this road, and when I did it was in the opposite direction. Somewhat vague on the actual distance I just hoped at every bend that I would begin to see the signs of South Grafton, and it wasn't that long before I did. Crossing over the crest of a hill I spied the roof tops in the distance.
It wasn't long before I was on the cycle path heading for town, up around the corner and into my mother's yard. It didn't take much to quickly unpack the bike and have it all safely stashed away on the back verandah. A shower and then a steak the size of the Australian Capital Territory faded diminished the angst of the rollercoasters ridden throughout the day...
So now I am here waiting for the weather to change. Showers, rain and storms have been the norm since arriving here in Grafton. I have been biding my time waiting to leave and continue up the mountain, a reason for coming this far by bike.
But I am rapidly runnning out of time before I need to return to Bundaberg. My daughter's birthday, some commitments and appointments. So I will see what happens over the next day or two but unfortunately the weather appears to be moving in on me. It is fast approaching the point for me to make the call, to pull the covers and call play due to rain. The very real possibilty of a train trip back to Bundaberg is fast becoming a reality as I sit here writing.
In the end the road will still be there, the scenery and the hills will remain and wait for me for another time...
Cheers guys, and as alwys, ride safe.
No comments:
Post a Comment