Narrandera to West Wyalong

Day 11 - A Long, Long Ride

We complained about the cold night at Lockhart - Narrandera was cold, cold, colder – even Tom was cold.

Rise with first light - the hot showers will offer some respite - into the shower block - even at this hour I am annoyed - who in their right mind would consider it appropriate to have a full height poster of a Bikini clad model on the wall of a caravan park amenities block!

As inappropriate as it is this morning is so cold that it would not have raised the interests of an 18 year old let alone the aging caravaning community!

I take my time – Tom has  a 135 k ride to do with at least 70 k before I have to feed him - I double check his lunch for fear that a failure to satisfy a riders hunger would raise the ire of my wife. Tom is heading out at 8.00 – I am destined to be gone by 9:45 - calculate that I should catch up to Tom at 10:30 about 50k into his ride.

He takes the Barellan Road – smooth – wide – quiet - out to the lake – takes Kamerah road – straight – undulating narrow bitumen - k after k of good smooth, undulating bitumen flanked by native pines of some sort of other – Where is Brian Royal when you want the name of a tree!

I catch Tom at 10:30 to the minute. Tom has enjoyed the road and its loneliness - we see hardly a car for 40 likometres

To Kamerah – another tiny, tiny forgotten and perhaps even, god forsaken tiny town but at least this one doesn’t pretend to be tidy – a few ramshackle houses and the seemingly obligatory silos – should there be silos here – of course – it is the reason for its existence. But where have all the people gone - gone to West Wyalong everyone (at least almost everyone)

Tom turns on to the Burley-Griffin Way – then immediately off – on to Humby Road - yes it is gravel – a bit loose but "rideable"  – where in the hell did the traffic come from – truck – ute – ute – car – dust – more traffic on this gravel shortcut that we have seen on all the bitumen for 50ks. 

10ks of gravel and meet for lunch at the Bygood Road

Feed the man and send him on his way - another 65k to go - "See you in West Wyalong" - He turns on to the smooth bitumised Bygood Road towards Tallimba.

Think about the that bloody van – she packed down without a problem – surely she has something in store for me! -  not sure why – decided to stop and check the frig – sure enough she had spewed its content on the floor – how did she get the locking pin out I thought! -  “you rotten thing – why did you do that! ” – “I didn’t do anything” – she screams back – “yes you did – you opened the frig and let the stuff fall out” says I – “you are paranoid” say she – “its  not my frig – I just carry it for you” – she says – “well how did it get open” say I – “perhaps you forgot to the put the lock pin in again” – says she – this time I am sure she has a smile on her face – I pause – perhaps she is right!

Pack up the frig again – thank goodness none of the containers spilled their contents –

 Off towards Tallimba – Tom enjoys a good undulating  road - in this country the towns signs get further apart and property signs get larger - I conclude that this area must have been an enclave of the Celtic diaspora – Scottish Celts - McGreggors, Dalglieshs, Campbells and Scotts and a little further Irish Celts - Quade, Brennan.

Tallimba - perhaps a chance for a coffee – sorry – no coffee – two people sit under the veranda – they call to Tom as he passes – not much happens in this town so a passing bike rider is something to get excited abpout!

Sad little town – a policemen and police station that looks viable – a pub/postoffice that is so marginal as to preclude the owner from performing even cosmetic maintenance – a park that needs love and attention – a hall that long since past its prime – old silos – poor old town – even the rail line to the silo is overgrown and mothballed.

To West Wyalong – I thought I had been here a 100 times – wrong – I have skirted it a 100 times – significant town – narrow tidy main street – surviving verandahs add to character and the perception of the shopping centre - a caravan park whose purpose in life seems to be to provide acceptable overnight accommodation for the likes of my miscreant 

Wait for Tom – he arrives looking like he hadn’t ridden at all – 135k for the day – not a bead of sweat – not an ache or a pain – amazing – like some of that spaghetti heated up as a snack – eyes light up – that would be nice – washes it down with hot chocolate.

Still the comments from all and sundry on Tom’s challenge continue – the caravan “want to know it all” calls by as he does his round of the park – he is impressed by Tom’s venture but in an understated way – a call from my brother in law – “Where are you” – “West Wyalong – Tom rode 135k today” – “gee he would need a drink after that – there are some good pubs in West Wyalong” – “he doesn’t drink Graeme” – “I told you he was mad in head!” says Graeme.

Wander into town – amazing – three Chinese restaurants – two bakeries – harvey norman – dental clinics – medical centres – reject shop – coffee places – hotels – art shop - very few unoccupied shops – looks laid back and prosperous in a laid back sort of way – look at the people’s faces – not an unhappy person in sight – the population look like they are hardworking salt of the earth people – there are no obvious examples of the downtrodden or those down on their luck – this is nice, surprising town!

 

 I  return to the van - I tell Tom about my sense of West Wyalong's laid back prosperity - by coincidence he produces his current book written by Don Watson in which there is a small section on the effects of farming and mining on the environment surrounding Lake Cowal 30 kilometres from West Wyalong - while the existence of the Lake Cowal gold mine is not overtly advertised in the main street apparently its presence has a significant effect on the town's prosperity.