New South Wales

Once again, unless otherwise noted, weather has been sunny and warm, 30-35 C in the afternoon, and comfortably cool at night.  Folks tell me this is the warmest April anyone can remember.  Even though I'm now closer to the equator than Phoenix, it's usually not this warm so late in the season.

Punctures have been too numerous to mention.  Suffice it to say 3 of my 4 inner tubes are full of patches.  I just bought another spare: The only one they had in Gilgandra was "thorn resistant", about twice the weight of my others.  I check my tires for thorns and leaks every morning before hitting the road, but still have some flats on the road.

The next stop after Forbes was Eugowra, a pleasant village in which I stayed in 2015.  There was a car and motorbike show scheduled at the showgrounds, where the campground is, as well as the "Country Fair", so I was expecting a big mob.  It turned out hardly anyone showed up, and most of them were gone by the time I got there, so it was a quiet evening.  There was even an old rusty table at my campsite.

Eugowra Campsite

Eugowra Sunset

Foothills of the Dividing Range

The next morning, Sunday, I found the cafe closed, but heard a voice calling.  Mike is closed on Sundays, but made me breakfast anyway, and wouldn't let me pay for it.  He remembered me from 2015.  His family has been in the area for about 200 years.  Some visitors from Wisconsin had dropped off his Spotted Cow souvenir.  (That's a popular local beer.)

At the Gentle Cow Cafe

Souvenir From Wisconsin

The Gentle Cow Cafe in Eugowra

Murals are very popular in these little towns, and Eugowra has several.

    

    

Eugowra Mural

The ride to Parkes makes it clear you're not in the plains any more.  The town itself has some serious hills, atop one of which is my caravan park.  I had a nice grassy campsite right next to the barbecue shelter.  That evening a family of six arrived by car and camped next to me in three tiny tents.  They were the quietest family I've encountered so far.  They were on a marathon drive from Queensland to a funeral south of Parkes.

Parkes Campsite

Soil salinization is a major problem in Austraila, where clearing of trees for farming has allowed the water table to rise, bring salt to the surface.  Some efforts are being made to control it by planting trees and bushes.

Between Parks and Yeoval

There are a few more hills between Parkes and the little village of Yeoval, my next stop.

Scenery En Route to Yeoval

While I was exploring Yeoval in 2004, a local chased me down and I met Alf and Sharon Cantrell. I was leaving the next day, but they invited me to have breakfast with them and their daughter Jessica the next morning. I contacted them again in 2015, and stayed with them for a couple days. Alf is one of the country's experts on Banjo Paterson, Australia's most famous poet, who lived in Yeoval as a child. Alf and Sharon run the Banjo Patterson Museum in town, with a huge collection of books and other stuff related to the poet (among other things). They drive buses part time to help finance the operation, and also volunteer for all sorts of other activities around town. I'm not sure Yeoval could function without them.

Shortly after I arrived at the Museum, another cyclist arrived. Graham was from Perth, though he didn't ride all the way from there. He stopped in at the museum because Alf and Sharon also manage the campground at the showgrounds where he wanted to stay.

Graham in Yeoval

Alf had an errand to do the afternoon I arrived, so I rode along with him back to Parkes on the road I had just ridden, to pick up hay for their 12 horses. They've had a very long drought, so there's no grass at all for them to eat. Alf, of course, has a ute, their version of a pickup truck. The back is sort of a flatbed, with low sides. Both sides, as well as the tailgate, can be folded down, and the bed is wider than a typical pickup.They look extremely practical, so I don't know why American farmers don't use them. In any case, a big round bale of hay was loaded in back and strapped down. Alf doesn't have a fork lift at home, but has a method of "gravity assisted" unloading, with which I helped in the morning.

The Ubiquitous Ute

The next day, after Sharon's morning school bus run, we set out in the ute to visit Goobang National Park. It's way up a bad gravel road, so I never would have ridden my bike up there. Alf claims on a clear day he can see the Indian Ocean from the overlook. (Actually, he claims he can see WHALES in the Indian Ocean.) Alas, it was hazy when we were there.

Goobang National Park Overlook

With Sharon and Alf

Later that day, we drove over to visit the famous radio telescope near Parkes. It's 64 meters in diameter, was completed in the early 60's, and supported the Apollo program. I'm curious how, in the early 60's, they did the calculations to control the altitude-elevation mount, as that requires some serious number crunching and I doubt the computers of the day were up to the task. (It turns out they built small model of the telescope, a mechanical computer!)

The Parkes Radio Telescope

The Banjo Paterson Museum

Sharon and Alf have a very friendly dog named Jack.  He's so friendly, in fact, that he was a complete failure as a sheep dog:  He wouldn't herd them, he wanted to make friends with them all. Fortunately, Sharon and Alf adopted him as a pet. He loves to leap into the back of the ute to go wherever Alf does, and is very unhappy when left behind. At one point, when the big bale of hay was in the ute, he jumped in only to find he didn't even have room to turn around, so I carried him over to the other side. I wouldn't try that with just any dog!

Sharon and Alf, with Jack

Alf and Sharon wouldn’t let me pay for anything during my visit, but when they weren’t looking I slipped a donation into the box at the museum. 

Alf was driving to Dubbo the next day to pick up a bus and offered me a ride. I didn't find it very pleasant staying in Dubbo last time, so I gladly accepted.(I know I'll never live it down, but so be it.) It's a pretty dreary ride through Dubbo's industrial wasteland to the north, but eventually I made it to the village of Mendooran. There's a free campground, a pub, a tiny store, and, of course, more murals.

Mendooran Mural

Mendooran Mural

Mendooran Mural

Mendooran Mural

Mendooran

Trucks in Australia seem to have a lot more wheels than we're used to seeing. I assumed that, because they're allowed on all the minor roads, that it was to spread out the load. I turns out, the allowed load for each wheel is about DOUBLE that allowed in Wisconsin. I'm amazed the roads are in as good a condition as they are. It must help not to have frost.

34 Wheels

I found a notice by the post office in Mendooran that someone had stolen 5 slabs of concrete from right in front of the pub. I turns out it was the old pub, which has been closed for years, but still.... You would think, unless they hauled them 500 km away, someone would eventually stop in at the other pub and give a clue.

Only in Australia!

The somewhat grumpy folks who were leasing the Royal Hotel in 2015 are gone, and the place is now apparently run by the owner's family. They were very friendly, offering free showers and WiFi.  When I asked the lady if I could wash my clothes somewhere, she insisted on putting them in the washer and hanging them for me. Later, I went back to borrow a bucket to find a puncture in an inner tube. Just as I started, her 4 young children returned from school, so all got a lesson in puncture repair. (Which will be handy, if they ride bikes around here!)

The Royal Hotel, Mendooran

Actual rain was in the forecast, so I decided to ride next to Gilgandra, a somewhat larger town, where it might be more pleasant to wait out the rain. (And update the blog at the library.) There were a couple steep climbs along the way, but I'll be soon leaving the hills behind once again.

Sure enough, about 7 PM a line of thunderstorms rolled through, though they didn't last long. I sat it out under a little roof by the barbecue at the caravan park.  Later that night, more thunderstorms went through. That's the first rain I've seen since Swan Hill, about 3 weeks ago. It wasn't a big rain, but the locals can't remember the last time they had even that much.  

Thunderstorms Approaching Gilgandra

It's supposed to clear up tomorrow, and the north winds should abate a bit. In a couple days, I'll have to ride 122 km to Walgett, and I REALLY  don't want to do that into a headwind.

Farewell Victoria

It's been a long time since the last update, but I just haven't been able to catch up with a computer until today here in Forbes.

My last day in Hopetoun was another windy one, so I spent much of the day riding around town seeking shelter. At least I wasn’t riding into it. I did connect with Bonnie via FaceTime, as she was just finishing her ski trip in Utah, with five guys from the ski club. 

In Hopetoun I learned about the pipeline system they’ve built in Victoria to distribute water. It replaced a system of open canals, from which some 90 percent of the water was lost. That’s one reason the area seems to have so much more water now. 

I’m also seeing drinking water taps in parks. Since the bore water in this area is usually unpalatable, they must be treating surface water. It doesn’t always taste great, though. 

The “Bush Retreat” in Hopetoun allows free camping along most of the lake shore. The sites are just the usual patches of dirt.  A short section of lakeshore adjacent to the Retreat, however, is a park with grass, tables, and a shelter. In other words, a perfect campsite. There were no signs, but it was clearly not a camping area. My first night there, after checking the locations of the sprinklers, I waited until dark to put my tent up, and took it down early in the morning. 

That afternoon, I was hanging out in the shelter, all my gear loaded on the bike, when a friendly guy I took to be the caretaker came by. He asked me where I was going to camp, and I told him somewhere in the Retreat. He then suggested I just put my tent up on the grass there! Naturally, I agreed. 

The following morning, just as I was starting to take down my tent, the Grouch arrived. The first clue was the nasty look from his little dog. 

“Absolutely no camping on the grass,” barked the Grouch. 

“The caretaker said it was OK.“

“We don’t have a caretaker.“

“The guy who cuts the grass.”

“Well, I’ll find out who he is!”

No matter, I was leaving anyway. I suppose every town has one of these. 

Mallee Tree Windbreak

The next day to Sea Lake was a long one, right into a vicious northeast wind. Just before the village of Lascelles, one of my shifter cables broke. I limped into Lascelles, where I at least had a nice shelter for the repair.  I had a terrible time getting the old cable out, so I lost an hour. (Why didn’t I replace that cable BEFORE the trip?)

Sea Lake has a pretty dismal caravan park, but I knew that. The next day I actually had a tailwind part way to Swan Hill. Then the first rain of the trip arrived. Not much, but just enough to make me stop several times to don rain gear. There was heavy rain to the south, but I just caught the edge of it. There was more rain overnight, but it cleared the next afternoon. That was a rest day in Swan Hill, as I waited for the bike shop to open on Monday. I replaced the other shifter cable (before it broke!), and did some other chores. I once again have a kilogram of milk powder for breakfasts. 

Murray River Bridge

Murray River at Swan Hill

Monday morning, the bike shop did open, so I was able to buy another pair of bike shorts and more shifter cables. Then it was a very easy ride to Moulamein on a great tailwind. Along the way, a guy with an empty trailer offered me a ride.  Where are these guys when I’m slogging into the wind in the rain?

Crossing the Murray

On the Road to Moulamein

Moulamein in the first stop in New South Wales. It’s a nice little town, with all the essentials. The caravan park is still run by Sandy and Joe, two friendly artists I met in 2015. Sandy does ceramics, while Joe does mostly wood and metal. Campsites are cheap, and even have grass and tables, so I took another day off. They asked me to pay an extra $5 for a powered site to charge my phone, which is extremely expensive electricity, but I'm helping support artists.

Moulamein Campsite

Sandy's Artwork

  

Some of Joe's Work

  

  

  

  

Sandy and Joe

Shortly after arriving in Moulamein, I learned of the “Confest” nearby the next weekend. 

https://confest.org.au/about/next-confest

Several thousand people are expected. What the web site doesn’t mention, but several locals did is that clothing is optional. I was to be far away.

After that bit of rain to Swan Hill, and aside from a very brief shower one morning, it’s been sunny and warm. Some days have been up to 35 C, and the nights cool, but warmer than earlier. Winds have been variable, but generally north, where that warmth comes from. One of these days, a “change” is bound to arrive.

The ride from Moulamein to Maude was a long one, with no help from the wind.  Maude consists of a tiny store and a pub, which also has a caravan park.  The price of camping had tripled since 2015, but at least they're still in business.

Barren Country to Maude

The Maude Pub

It was an easy ride with a tailwind to Hay, where I needed to arrive before the post office closed to pick up the new bike shorts Bonnie sent me.  The next day was Good Friday, when absolutely everything in Australia is closed. 

Hay had nice campsites at the showgrounds, where I camped two nights.  I had a pretty nice tent site, with no extra charge for the horse manure.  There was a nice shelter by the grandstands, well protected from the wind, where I spent much of the next day.  There wasn't a laundry, but the caretaker loaned me a bucket. It was a very quiet Good Friday.

I suppose age does have some advantages:  I can no longer smell the roadkill, nor the horse manure around the tent.

More Barren Country to Hay

Hay Campsite

Nearly Full Moon in Hay

Hay Showgrounds on Good Friday

The next stop was Booligal, which consists of a pub and a nice campsite by the sports grounds. A friendly caretaker, and no grouch. 

Still No Tree

On the Road to Booligal

The Booligal Pub

Another View of the Booligal Pub

Booligal Campsite

The ride to Hillston the next day was tough, as I knew it would be. Most of the 78 km route is gravel, and half of that very bad. I had plenty of water this time, though. 

The Road to Hillston

Dry Weather Road

Earth Return Power Line

Flat, Flat, Flat

Getting Closer to Hillston

After that, I took a day off in Hillston, a nice town. Except for the thorns. The first morning, both tires were flat, and again the next. I finally figured out that it was the footpath I was using to ride into town. Now I check for thorns every morning. 

Hillston Birds

After patching the tires again, I got a late start to Lake Cargelligo, the longest ride so far. A bit of a tailwind helped. Just short f the town, these strange bumps appeared on the horizon. I even had to ride over some of them. It’s been a while. 

Hills Approach Lake Cargelligo

Lake Cargelligo is another very small town, and I was almost out of tire patches. There was a little sports shop, run by an extremely elderly gentleman. He said he was “a little deaf”. It took a while to get the message across, but he actually had some!

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Lake Cargelligo Shop

Lake Cargelligo is a nice town, but I was on a schedule to meet some friends in a few days. The next stop was supposed to be Condobolin, a ride of over 100 km, much of it gravel. I got a late start, and there was a bad headwind, so after 29 km to Euabalong, I quit for the day. There’s nothing there but a campground and a pub. There was plenty of rainwater in the tank. Also, I learned at 3 AM, lots of roosters.

Oh well, I had planned to get up at 5, anyway. The gravel to Condobolin can be avoided, but it’s longer, and headwinds were forecasted.  (Sunrise was about 6:15.). That helped, and I covered the 93 km by 1:30. 

Condobolin is a larger town, but plagued by rampant vandalism. In spite of massive fortifications, all the public facilities are trashed. There’s a nice caravan park, though, and they even let me put my tent in a nice, but nonstandard, place. 

One thing I’ve noticed is the improvement in tap water in towns since my earlier trips. In this area, though it was usually safe, it tasted terrible, so everyone drank rain water. They seem to have mostly fixed that now. 

The ride to Forbes was again the longest so far, 105 km, but all sealed and light winds. I was on the road at 7 AM, in town by 2. As the sun set about 6, and there are chores to do, the rest of the afternoon quickly disappears. 

Proceeding east up the Lachlan River valley towards the mountains, things start looking greener and there are more signs if habitation. There are also a lot more trees. 

More Trees Approaching Forbes

Forbes is the biggest town I’ve been in since Swan Hill. It’s a bit sprawly, the caravan park about 2 km from the center. Like Condobolin, it also shows signs of vandalism, but it has all the usual businesses. I’ve learned it has endured many floods from the Lachlan. 

Because of the variability of winds, it’s hard to tell if I’m really getting faster, but I feel better for longer at a stretch on the bike. It’s definitely taking longer to get in shape, but I’m thankful to still be pedaling!

From here, I have several shorter days to meet my friends in Yeoval on Monday. I’ll still have plenty of time to catch that bus to Brisbane, but there are two 122 km days in there, and I want some margin for bad weather or headwinds.