Dirranbandi to St. George

The terrible cellular data service in Dirranbandi had dire consequences for timeliness of yesterday's blog post - 6 hours to upload photos - hours and hours to get entries into the cloud - a late night for the writer - some amusement for Tom - he delights in photographing the blog writing endevour at mid-night!

The tentacles of the southern weather took one last attempt to sting us last night but they managed only to remind us of the weather we are leaving behind - the morning is pleasant - a little less bright and a little less pleasant than in past days. 

Off towards St George – back to more normal ride lengths – not one of the short 70K rides of the past few days – a full 95k.

The St George Road out of town is smooth and reasonably good – the verges are practically non-existent - the traffic is a little higher than is normal – after all this is rush hour for people making their way into the non-metropolis of Dirranbandi

Past this poor fellow who did not make it all the way home by himself last night – the van stops to check – a Land Cruiser stops with the van - A young grazier wife alights -  “you would not forgive yourself if you did not stop” says she.

Push on past the seemingly every present road kill and past  the aviary cleaning contractors that tend to it – the wind gentle, the sky shaded and the temperature ideal for riding.

The road turns for St George – almost by magic the road kill disappears – not a sign of a damaged animal for kilometre after kilometre – the van ponders why this is so? – is it a natural lack of wild life or are road crossing animals incompatible with the agricultural practices along the road – perhaps it is just that the wild life along here are trained in roadcraft trained from a young age? – after about 20 kilometres a young kangaroo has succumbed to the perils of road crossing – perhaps it was away when the roadcraft class took place.

The far verges of the road are occupied by stands of cypress pine- by stands of eucalypt – the stony ground cross is hatched with green – the environment is enjoying the rains of the last few weeks. First it is Cattle that graze – then the agriculture moves towards broad acre cropping- very-very broad by southern standards – Emus make use of the huge paddocks left to fallow – the landowners of these fallowed holdings shy of the financial risk of cropping given the paucity of rain in the last few seasons.

The financially more aggressive of the landholders have been rewarded - their crops have struck -the sub soil holds the requisite water – the makings of a good yield

Past huge plantings of salt bush – clearly a staple for the cattle – the weather remains mild  – lightly overcast – 19 degrees with the wind near zero - The road -mostly straight – no verge but no traffic – practically no traffic.

Pass the white dog sign - worry a little - remember tales of runners and riders being taken as the enemies of their charges - have to trust that these guys are not too diligent.

60k into the run to St George- wait to feed the man – he is again storming along – it all looks easy thinks I – get out and find a log - with thoughts like that I need to touch wood.

Sit and sit – the cars so far apart that there are long periods of silence – then you realise it is not silence but is bush noise! – crows – galahs – more crows – flies - pigeons – maybe wonga pigeons – enjoying this – bugger! – here comes Tom – feed the man – 60ks – “two and a half hours without a real tail wind - going well” says Tom – “big boring sections up here – will not know what a hill looks like when I get back" say he.

Off towards St George – “Oh no!” – the wind has intensified and swung into his face – a tough 30 k’s – the road straight and long – clouds close in – a tiny – tiny – tiny drop of rain – onwards - for the last 10k’s of his grind towards St George at least the farmer hidden under these bicycle clothes can turn his mind to the huge plantings of irrigated cotton and to the enormous linear travelling irrigator feeding life into a rich looking crop. – at the last! - the turn on to the Canarvon Highway – the wind stays put and now pushes firmly across his back – he forgets the grind of the last 30 k’s as he enters St. George – The inland Fishing Capital of Queensland!

Tom arrives at the van – he looks pleased to be finished – as is his wont his first action is to change out of his riding shoes – he holds them up – “damm” he says – “I will have to discover a technique to relieve myself without watering my shoes” says he – “it is hard to control direction when you are in tight fitting bike shorts” says he – “too much information” says I.

This blog is called threescore and ten to honour Tom’s 70^th birthday – I am starting to think that a more appropriate title may be “Tom’s Tour of Outback Bakeries” – immediately he is showered he indicates a desire to have some lunch – immediately the shopping centre is broached Tom has identified the location of the bakery and a parking spot is identified for me – “a pepper pie, a bee-sting and caramel milkshake! – The bakery receives a score for its food that would make the imitation bakery in Dirranbandi truly feel like it was an imitation bakery – the bakery’s décor and ambience? – less than appealing! – “are you having it here” – “Yes” – the pies and bee-sting arrive – “get your own plastic plates, knives and forks!”

We drive around St. George – “I would not want to be a home builder here” says Tom -  not a new home obvious to us as we randomly cruise the streets of this small town – 2700 people – some of those 2700 people responsible for the political birth of one Barnaby Joyce – not a rich town but not one that appears destitute – a little weary might be an apt description.

Back to caravan park – time to replenish the stocks of pasta that the man needs on completion of each day’s ride! – Tom has studied the wind patterns for tomorrow’s 120 kilometre ride to Surat – he has decided to leave an hour earlier to minimise their potentially deleterious effects on his progress.

Tom's Strava results for today can be found here.