Springsure to Emerald

I awake early to catch the van and the bike have one last snuggle! – the van claims it was just a little bit of morning dew but I swear they were tears – this is the last day she will have with her new friend – she does look a little sad - I will have to have a little chat with her later. 

A glorious sunrise marred only by the amenities block prowlers intent on extracting every detail of their fellow traveller’s chronicles – of course the same prowlers are equally intent on sharing the details of today’s planned adventure for their mobile apartments and their in-house parking assistant come cook.

 Tom is eager to get away – I look at the van – I look at the bike – neither seem receptive to the idea of an early start – I look back at the van again – I can read her mind – she is about to cause one of her appendages to descend upon Tom’s head- I give her a look of disapproval – for the first time in our short and sorry history she obeys.

Off goes Tom oblivious to the threat which has just been circumvented.

The van is listless - she has lost all her spirit – I pack her down – she neither resists or assists – she doesn't even complain when we divert to look at around the town of Springsure – a nice place for a town with such a horrible history! – both aboriginal and European massacred!

Amazing! - I have at last located the Internet!

Tom heads on through country that is feeling even more pleased with itself than it‘s neighbours to the south of Springsure – the road wide with good verges – the traffic significant! – he is doing it easy – easy – the wind behind him? – yes and with respectable intensity – the weather? – just like a glorious Albury autumn day.

The van and I set up for lunch beside Howards Road – the trucks roaring past are not enough to shake the van from its doldrums – then her friend the bike arrives and her spirit returns - this is the last time she will meet him on the road.

Tom and the bike depart and immediately the van turns in on herself – "listen here old girl – you cannot be like that – you know the bike has to go on to the cape" – "no! it doesn’t" says she – "he doesn’t want to go"  - "it is just that nasty Tom that is making him go" – "I used to think that Tom was a nice man but he is just a nasty, unkind, selfish individual" – "how could he part two new found friends simply because he wants to ride to the cape!" – "listen old girl – there is no point in talking about Tom that way" – "he says he is use to that language being directed towards him".

Off towards Emerald – turn towards Fairbairn Dam and Lake Maraboon – be careful – be careful – this is a narrow road – you have to be careful – those infamous fisher-people, the Red Claw Crustacean Catchers, drag their huge motorhomes home along this shortcut. With their refrigerators laden with bounty from Lake Maraboon.]

Over the dam wall

Into Emerald past huge orchards and irrigated agriculture.

Tom is photographed one more time devouring another enormous cake

The escort duties are over – all that is needed now is a meeting of the Tom Martin, Prom to Cape, IT Coordination Committee to enact the procedures necessary to hand over blog responsibilities to Barb. 

Dinner out with Jim and Jenny - Bernie and Mike - Tom and Barb - Bernie's parking questioned!

The van will dutifully follow Bernie and I to Hervey Bay to await the return of her new friend or to transfer her allegiance to new custodian – whichever comes first!

Strava results