The first job was to actually get myself out of the motel.The apparent security risks associated with the area saw the motel surrounded by a very high fence with all of the motel guests essentially locked in.I had two keys on my motel room key ring and I set about,in the pre dawn light,to find out which of the two padlocked exits the second key would fit.Once that was done,I pulled my rig out of the room,hooked the trailer up and wheeled my little road train into the street before heading back to my room to lock it up and then re-lock the huge gates.While I thought the gates were a pain in the ass I knew that,sadly they were most likely a necessity and even more sadly something I would get used to pretty quickly over the next few days.
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| Sunrise on the road |
Once on the road I found I had a nice little tailwind again and for the first time during my trip actually felt like I was riding like a cyclist and not just some overweight and unfit guy struggling along on his bike.The road tilted up a little which was unexpected but I found that I was really enjoying it.While I am not fit enough to call myself "a climber" again I do tend to prefer the hills to the flat stuff where I seem to lose the plot mentally doing the same thing in the same position for hours on end.Racing for me is the same and I have never liked flat courses.The "climbs" today were just longish, gently rolling hills with each climb at about a 2% grade for up to a couple of kilometres before dropping down at around the same grade to the start of the next roller.It was great as I was pulling the trailer up these rollers faster than I had been dragging it along the flats for the last few days.That showed me that a change in fitness had begun and I was staring to adapt.I had already noticed that my resting heart-rate had begun to drop and while it was far from the 40 beats per minute that it used to be it was well below the racing heart-beat that I had been experiencing for the last couple of years.It had now dropped to just under 60 beats per minute and things were definitely starting go head in the right direction.
As I passed through a heavily forested area and out to a new section of open plains I noticed something else had changed and that was the colour of the ground.The middle of Australia is called "The Red Centre" due to the red colour of the dirt and if anyone has ever seen pictures of Uluru or Ayers Rock they would understand just how red the dirt can get.Today,it seemed was the day that the dirt turned red for me.It was a subtle change but an indication that I was indeed making my way westward into the outback.
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| Quiet early morning road |
After a couple of hours pottering along the quiet highway my stomach told me that it was time for a breakfast break and I started to look for somewhere shady to park my rig.There hadn't been much in the way of anything but bleak flat nothingness for a few kilometres and when I spied a small stand of trees on the side of the road ahead with what looked like the entrance to another of the cattle stations that dominate the real estate in these parts.At the side of the gate to the property was what looked like an old style refrigerator which had been converted to a large post box with the name of the station on three sides.After being blown down the highway by an ever increasing easterly wind for most of those first couple of hours I thought it fitting that I would take my rest stop at a property called "Tara".I wasn't quite "gone" but was definitely going with the wind and I wondered what the homestead of the property was like.I was sure it wouldn't be as grand as it's namesake in the famous movie and I was certain that the owners wouldn't be living quite the dramas of Rhett and Scarlett.As fate would have it,just as I was preparing to leave, who should turn off the highway in a huge,dusty four-wheel drive but the owner himself.
I was just putting my helmet on when the vehicle came to a stop and the front,passenger side door opened and out stepped your classic Aussie farmer.The weathered,fifty-something guy was dressed in what might be considered the popular image of "the uniform" for cattle farmers in Australia and this guy looked like he stepped straight out of an R.M Williams catalogue. Brown riding boots under his cream,moleskin jeans,leather belt with an obligatory oversize belt buckle,sky blue long sleeved collared shirt all topped off by a cream,sweat stained Akubra hat.Seriously,you couldn't try any harder to create "that look" if you tried but I have no doubt that this was just another normal days choice of wardrobe.Classic stuff!!
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| The gentle hills |
He came over and asked me what I was up to and after I told him he offered me water and we had a chat about my ride, the local area and his farm while his,almost identically dressed but much dirtier,young offsider sat patiently behind the wheel chewing on a toothpick.Our conversation lasted all of five minutes and as he climbed back into his vehicle he offered me some advice and I quote, "If you are thinking of staying in Walgett tonight then I suggest you ride through town and stay at the motel about 5k's out.The place is called the Barwon Inn and the Aboriginals won't bother you out there". With that he waved and the young offsider grabbed the brim of his hat and nodded his goodbye before driving through the gates and down the dusty gravel road onto the station.I thought to "how bad could it be?"
The rest of the ride into Walgett proved to be an uneventful 30 kilometres and apart from the rapidly increasing heat it was a great day.I had thoroughly enjoyed the morning and was looking forward to hanging out in Walgett for New Years Eve.
The first thing that struck me as I rode into town and down the main street was how much smaller it was than I had expected.For a place that apparently had a population of around two thousand,a main street that only really extended two blocks was a surprise.What surprised me even more was the very obvious attention to security that almost every store seemed to have taken great pains to attend to.During my very slow ride through town I estimated that nine out of ten stores had full,ground to roof, metal security screens completely covering their shops.Now,individually this might not seem to bad but as they lined up together the place looked like a town preparing for the apocalypse.Add to that the almost deserted streets and I felt that there was nothing whatsoever warm and welcoming about this place.
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| At the gates of "TARA" |
I had done my online research about accommodation a few days before and knew where I was going so after finding the only roundabout in town I turned left around the Gateway Hotel and into the drive through bottle shop which also served as the motel reception.It was around 10am and I caught the staff a little off guard as they prepared to open the "drive through".Concerned about finding a room on New Years Eve,I sheepishly asked if they had a spare room to which one of the two guys said." yeah mate,we have eleven of them."Apparently, for the second time I was to be the only guest at the Inn.
Following my now established pattern I put my gear away,showered,put some normal clothes on and wandered down the street to the large IGA supermarket and did the shopping that would see me through not only New Years Eve but the string of public holidays that were to follow.I was sure that there wouldn't be much of anything open over the next few days and had already noticed that a lot of stores had already closed for the long weekend.I was glad that I was having one of my rare moments of organization and went back to my room with bags loaded with enough supplies that, in keeping with the towns vibe,would last a small apocalypse.
I spent the rest of the afternoon walking around town (which didn't take long), keeping out if the heat of the day which had climbed to over 40Celcius ( I even bought a thermometer) and writing in this blog whilst seated at the only outlet that remotely resembled a coffee shop.It was one of those stores that sells perfumed candles,silk flowers and all the stuff that you don't really need but is really nice to have to decorate your house.Kind of like a poor mans Bed,Bath and Beyond,if you will.The store looked so out of place in this town as everything was so nice and clean with a few equally clean and well dressed customers who would have fitted in quite nicely in any of Australia's trendy café rows.The only reminder that the store was in Walgett was the heavy metal,industrial security screen covering the whole store front.Well that and the young Aboriginal girls screaming obscenities at each other from across the street and the huge drunk guy walking past yelling to himself something about "fucking whiteys".I didn't catch the rest of the conversation he was having and I really didn't want to know.
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| Coffee Shop with the heavy security screens |
I have spent a fair bit of time in Aboriginal communities having lived in Cairns in the 1980's before it became civilized, near Mossman just north of Port Douglas and in the extreme cultural experience that is Weipa,the Bauxite mining town on Cape York in the very far north of Australia.Nothing shocks me anymore and there really isn't much point trying to explain what really happens in these towns because unless you actually see it you will never understand.That is not to say all Aboriginals are bed seeds,in fact far from it but the culture that is the modern Aboriginal one here in Australia is influenced,I believe,by the "political culture" more than the traditional one.Folks making decisions in our nations capital,far removed from reality,who are either clueless about the actual issues in the many and varied communities around the nation or those to whom "Indigenous Interests" mean more of a personal cash cow or a thriving industry,than a means deal with the actual problems.It is what it is,I just wish more folks would come out to the bush and see for themselves what is happening in their own country.
I figured that New Years Eve was going to be a quiet one and prepared myself for a marathon night of watching New Years' related chick flicks while feeling sorry for the dateless loser that I am.I hadn't set a personal record, but five consecutive years without so much as a date was getting close to my previous best.Sadly,I didn't see the streak ending any time soon.
New Years Eve came and went without any fireworks of fanfare and I woke up to a new year and a couple of days to reflect and try to figure out where I was to go from here.
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| Downtown Walgett on New Years Eve |
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| Memorial to the fallen Soldiers |
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| A positive message in a not so positive downtown |
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| The huge Police Station |
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| The Information Centre and Library during business hours |
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| My room straight through the car park behind the silver gate |
