Rolleston to Springsure

In the caravan park last night – weather good - set up the awning - relax - a little breeze - that is nice - a little more breeze - that is pleasant - a little more breeze – it is OK - it will pass! - a little more breeze - the awning screams- “bugger you - what about me?” - we scurry to secure the awning in its rooftop bag.

Rain and a little more rain - then a little more rain -  “will she leak” says Tom – “of course not” says I - the confidence with which the statement was made at odds with past experience!

She doesn't leak! - ever since she got to know this bike she is much better behaved! – a rapid change in menu sees curry in the microwave replace the meat and the veg’s scheduled for the BBQ.

The rain stops around midnight - we arise - foggy! – foggy! – foggy! – Tom heads off - as soon as he clears the town the fog lifts for him but the caravan park remains engulfed.

The car leaves the van and patrols the town – a tiny town – desolate town made even more desolate by the fog induced gloom – a regional school - a miniature medical presence - a service station come general store - a restaurant that appears closed-a few houses – a pub – a volunteer fire service - not much of anything really!

Rolleston has a police station together with occupied watch-house.

Pick up some fuel - a young farming lady says and says again – “mind the kangaroos” – “bad weather  for them” – “mind the kangaroos!”.

After the tour of the town is compete, the packing down of the van is approached with trepidation! -. The last time the van got wet she carefully stored up a significant collection of rainwater which she stealthily deposited onto individual responsible for packing her down.

My inner self says – “don't trust her” - I check for the potential consequences of any sudden deposition of stored water upon exposed bedding-I carefully stand to one side as the winch lowers her roof – one eye on the handle and the other on any sign of an impending deluge – nothing! -nothing! – nothing! – hardly a drop! - she is truly a reformed character!.

Tom heads out of town on the Dawson Highway heading for the pretty little town of Springsure - a short ride of 79k

Off in pursuit of the rider- a beautiful ride along great roads through country that is expressing it's pleasure at the way in which the weather has treated it of late – cattle graze-folder crop grow in preparation of harder times ahead.

Pass the Rolleston coal mine and its electrified rail line – the relationship between the mine and the town must be tenuous at best, since it is clear that the town realises little benefit from its existence – “you cannot electrify the main rail line between Melbourne and Sydney but you can electrify a rail line in middle of nowhere” says Tom.

Tom is having an easy day- he stops for lunch and then approaches the pretty stair case ranges – a long steady climb that keeps on keeping on into Springsure.

Into a delightful caravan park on its outskirts-trees-shade-lawn-nice-nice-an afternoon of sitting and reading awaits Tom but not before he finishes his pasta - devours cake and a milkshake and returns for an ice cream - I suppose he has earnt it!