Moz's Tour Journal

Ballarat To Naracorte Summer 2003-2004

There are more photos with some captions but no real links back to where or when I took them other than the date on the page. I like photos. Organised photos... journal scenic people art photos bike signs wildlife everything

Saturday 20 Dec - Monday 22 Dec

Left Sydney on the 8:43pm train to Melbourne, with Sonia and bikes in boxes. No major drama, CountryLink even provide the bike boxes. Get off train in early morning in Melbourne, start hassling people via SMS to come and entertain us. Damon agrees to stagger out to Degraves Cafe at the cripplingly early hour (9am), where Sonia's father also turns up. I have my MTB at this point, with the camera in a front pannier and a daypack on top of the rear rack with more junk in it. The good thing about the MTB is how much space it has to carry stuff. The bad thing is how cheap and nasty the rear wheel is, and even the bike shop can't make it look good. So I can carry lots of lightweight stuff.

Damon guides us to a tree climbing training day being run by the Forest Rescue crew, but unfortunately I'm the only victim so they decide to can it and go do useful stuff instead. They're keen to see us do a tree sit in Sydney to match the excellent results they got in Melbourne. Then we go somewhere in Brunswick (maybe) to hang out with Dallas and do radio geekery. Finally Sonia and me disappear off to Bill's place to camp for the night (much to Sonia's relief).

Sonia decides to hang out in Melbourne while I disappear to Dromana and hassle Ben at Trisled. The 28km ride there is much easier on the MTB than it was on the Birdy, and this time I find a nice polarfleece vest on the side of the road. This maintains the tradition of the road gods supplying me with a gift for Ben on each visit. Once there I play on various toys (fully faired trike, hand trike, new bike) and remark on how much fun the faired trike is to ride, if only it was long enough for me to actually be comfortable in.

Ben has discovered paragliding, and also acting. At least acting is cheap... unlike paragliding. And there's still enough happening in the shed that I don't think we can really claim he's slacking.

I test ride the new bike that he's importing from Taiwan, $2200 for an entry level recumbent bike is not bad at all. After riding the MTB around Melbourne and out to Dromana I decide to buy one and test it by riding on this short tour. Much fussing later "we" have built a new rack because my cheap aluminium one wasn't up to having all my gear on it (the MTB has a custom front handlebar rack for my camera). Only real problem is that there's not quite enough chain once I push the boom forward. I solve this by breaking off the thing that holds the return side of the chain and running it over the chain idler instead. But that's the only damage to the bike for the ride.

I wander back to Melbourne in the middle of the night, ready to jump on the train to Ballarat in the morning.

Tuesday 23 Dec

From Ballarat we ride out towards Lake Burrumbeet, but get distracted by the Ballarat to Skipton Rail Trail. This promises 50km of rough gravel to Skipton, so (naturally) we decide to ride along it. After a few km Sonia discovers that the "gluten free" buns she bought have other problems, so calls an ambulance and gets to play in the ICU at Ballarat Hospital. I get collected by a local (thanks Graham) who drives me back into town, back to his place to collect the bikes, then back to the motel Sonia is in. All too exciting.

Wednesday 24 Dec

Despite planning for a recovery day, Sonia feels strong enough to ride out the next day. Once again we head for Trawalla via Lake Burrumbeet. We ride for 20km or so along Remembrance Ave which is planted with trees and plaques commemorating war dead. Lots of them...

The lake proves to be a bit of a waste of time, so we proceed to Trawalla and hang out during the heat of the day. We camp in the picnic area just off the road, which I suspect is a bit novel for Sonia. But it's the best site around, and I think we've finished riding for the day. My usual pattern is to ride early in the morning, then vege in the afternoon. Or play tourist, which is much the same thing.

My hammock goes anywhere, and I move it about to keep shade on me as the sun moves. She spends more time an effort doing the same with her mosquito net, but at least gets well practiced at setting it up. I wander about and take photos, but fundamentally there's not a lot to do in Trawalla. Sonia takes advantage of this by resting a lot. Towards dusk we have dinner and I take photos now the light is better. I spent a bit of time chasing birds about, even with a 300mm lens it's not easy to get photos of some of them. Magpies yes, most other birds no.

Thursday 25 Dec

Left Trawalla about dawn after waking around first light. Sonia slept under the mosquito net while I had my hammock up. As somewhat predicted I was all packed and ready to go while she was still learning about the process. Which is to be expected, this is her first ever night camping while cycle touring, since being in intensive care really doesn't count.

Rode to Beaufort, where there wasn't much going on. Curse these provincial towns where the info centre isn't open at 8am on christmas day. Another 20km into the ride and Buangor is even smaller than Beaufort. It has only one street, but at least it has the scenic attraction of a nearby wind farm. An extra 10km or so of riding takes me past the wind farm, and I get to see a lot of signs on gates saying "no access to wind farm". Towards the end I realise that this is because there is no access to it at all, and by the look of it I'm not the only one who regards the giant windmills as a tourist attraction. I have a look and take photos from a safe distance (windmills can be pretty vicious, especially around calving time).

Back on the main road I stop at Green Hill Lake, which is another one of these irrigation dams with an island and some birds. Birds which don't like having their photo taken, but at least there's a nice lookout/shaggery to not take photos from. Judging by the, ah, "litter", up there it's not the feathered bird life that's attracted to the area. However, there is official camping and free showers, so I clean up and have a shave, and wash some clothes. Which dry almost instantly in the dry heat that passes for weather at the moment. I park my hammock by the entrance and wait for Sonia.

Eventually I get an SMS that she's in a chinese restaurant in Ararat having lunch. She couldn't be bothered collecting me on the way past, I suspect she's struggling more than she wants to let on. We end up at the local campground next to the bogans. See amusing video snippet of bogans an hour into setting up camp and still not really with it...

One of the cool things in Ararat is the chinese cultural centre, which acknowledges the contribution chinese immigrants made to the area, and the silly things that were done to them (they had special taxes which were not cheap, for instance). The centre combines the best of stalinist concrete with interesting touches of traditional chinese architecture, and the architects impression on a poster over the road looks wonderful. Unfortunately you'll only ever see the building that way from a helicopter. It wasn't finished when I saw it, but it does look good, especially the garden. Many photos in the photo section...

To date Sonia has taken about 5 photos with her camera, and I have taken about 200 with mine. She's not convinced it's worth while... I'm also getting sunburnt on my nose and hands, and struggling to sort out how to sleep in the hammock when the temperature changes dramatically during the night as things cool from 30 degrees at 8pm to 15 as the overnight minimum. I don't like being surrounded by people like this. Sonia seems happier sleeping this way though.

Friday 26 Dec

I'm putting dates here because I didn't actually know what day it is for most of the tour, but my camera did. So This helps me match the photos to the journal. Anyway, this day I rode to Halls Gap, Sonia took the bus. A mildly entertaining ride, hit a wallaroo at about 60kph on the rolling hills outside Ararat. Not something I recommend, to be honest, but it seemed like the thing to do at the time. More specifically, it bounced out of the scrub on the side of the road, pulled alongside me, then did that crazy kangaroo sidestep before hitting my pannier lightly as it crossed behind me. I was fairly excited by this, but at least both of us were still mobile afterwards.

In Moyston I saw this interesting building next to the sports ground. Separate toilets for men, women, and umpires.

Started to see bike-sign as I got closer to Halls Gap, it turns out that there's a 100km-ish training circuit in the area so there's signposts reminding motorists of their obligations. Which is cool, and I chatted to some locals as I rode along.

Halls Gap is one of the tourist traps in the area, and quite scenic. I checked out the accommodation and we ended up in a garage... sorry, "double room" (it had a bit of carpet and a bed) but at least we were sleeping inside. The friendly, competent backpackers was booked out, as were their competition, but "Neds Beds" was nigh on empty. But given the difficulty of finding the owner and actually arranging to stay there, that's not surprising. We did it anyway.

Having got a place to dump my stuff, I rode up the hill out of town to have a look about. No really good photos, and by the time I got to the top I was hot and ready to come straight back down. The bike climbs ok though, and I didn't die coming back down either. Much to the disgust of some of the motorists I met who seemed intent on killing me. Saw lots of signs that this is a good area for rock climbing, but didn't actually go north to where you're actually allowed to do it. Went into the Grampians National Park info centre and got advice on where to camp and what to see. Which was good. Still odd to me that ozzies allow bush camping in NP so readily. Good though ;-)

Sonia arrived about 1pm, then we lazed about until it got cool enough for me to walk around a bit. I wandered up to Separation Falls, which was photogenic in its own way, and Venus Baths which is one of those cool natural waterside things. It's all metamorphosed limestone country, great for rock climbing (Mt Arapalies nearby), and so there are funky water features too. I had fun, Sonia I think slept a lot. But they do list all the walking track distances in km, which makes it a bit hard to work out how long it'll actually take to get anywhere. At least in NZ they quote hours of walking for a consistent geriatric, so you can at least apply a constant fiddle factor and be fairly close most of the time. Anyway, lots of nice things to look at, and cicadas and parrots to listen to.

Saturday Dec 27

Woke up late, about 7am, and left slowly. Sonia starting to perk up a bit now. Missed the park info building somehow as we left, so didn't buy a camping permit. Not such a bad thing, as Sonia ended up not camping in it. Wandered past the big dam and lake that supplies drinking water to Ararat, then along the valley to various picnic/camping areas. Which were full of motorists and their spawn, lots of caravans and 4WDs. I can see why I was told not to camp there.

Sonia spotted an echidna on the side of the road, so we stopped and had a look. Not much to see really, just a spiky burrowing animal ;-) But interesting coz I hadn't seen one before.

And the nice ranger lady gave me oh such a dirty look for pitching my hammock in a no camping area, I really don't think she realised how little intention I had of camping there. Had a cooked lunch, then rode on down the valley with the bush getting less inviting the further we went. Hit farmland, then more national park, and I decided to camp right on the edge at a small dam. A nice, warm swimming hole type dam, perfect for a quiet shag if the couple in the ute who drove in and out again is anything to go by.

Pitched my hammock, Sonia had a nap then decided to ride out to Dunkeld and stay there for the night. I stayed put, because it was so much nicer. As I lay in the hammock a friendly echidna came over for a chat, sitting right where I needed to put my feet to get out of the hammock. Some time later I escaped, and got the camera out to torment her in return. They have truly gerbil-like attention spans, I have to say. Stand still for 30s and the wee beastie pokes it's nose out and has a sniff, then wombles off on it's way. So I got some more photos. Although, despite the copious supply of wombat poo, I didn't see any wombats. Heard one in the night, though.

Also saw and tried to photograph some tiny nearly transparent crayfish in the pond, but didn't have much luck. There were some interesting insects in the pond, but I didn't feel like trying the plastic-bag- over-lens trick to see if I could get photos. The water was also very warm, so I didn't swim either.

Sunday Dec 28

Woke up late and discovered that just bringing the rice to the boil then turning the stove off is not enough, the rice was still crunchy in the morning. So I boiled it a bit more and had a hot breakfast. Rode into Dunkeld and found Sonia, who was sleeping. So I left her there and rode into Hamilton, which was at least open. Found the info centre, didn't really like the look of the local attractions so took off into the wheat belt.

Which was long, and vaguely undulating, and hot but at least I had a tail wind. Eventually I arrive in Branxholme, which has a servo on the main road and more stuff up the hill somewhere. I sit around in the picnic area and have lunch. Sonia messages that she's going to take the bus to Heywood, so I decide to keep riding on the off chance that things get better down the road.

They don't. Condah is a pub, later there's a closed up church, and some eucalypti plantations. I stop again and read for a bit under a tree about 20km from Heywood because it's getting hot. Later boredom drives me to keep riding, so I eventually arrive in Portland about 120km later. My knees hurt a bit from too much riding in the heat, but I'm less unhappy than I would have been if I'd sat somewhere and done nothing all day.

Writing my diary in the middle of the day there's an ongoing thread about how the hammock is going. I finally bought a Hennesey Hammock and now I'm trying to work out how to sleep in it. In NZ it's easy, because the nightly temperature is nice and cold, so I just climb into my sleeping bag and as it gets colder overnight I burrow in more without waking up. But over here it's more tricky - I can't sleep when it's hot, so when it starts to cool off I go to sleep just lying on my sleeping mat in the hammock. Then I wake up after sunset because I'm cold, and climb into my sleeping bag. Later I wake again and zip it up. Which breaks up my sleeping pattern and makes me grumpy. Hence the diary whining. But the hammock itself is great - it takes microseconds to set up, it's comfy and the build in mosquito net works really well. The odd thing is that ants seem to ignore it too - I can tie it around a tree that has ants running up and down it, and they don't run down the strings to bug me. Which is good when there are bull ants (that bite).

Monday 29 December

Woke about 7am, in the Portland central camping ground. Sonia happily asleep under the fly. No idea what happened today, diary skips the day completely. I recall wandering around looking for a motel or something, and finding a backpackers. So we moved into there. I'm sure we spent two nights in Mt Gambier, but my diary claims only one. But the dates match this way, so obviously I lost a day in my diary somewhere. Oops.

Tuesday 30 December

Mark the hostel owner arrived back about 8-ish after a night working on the docks. I wandered down and took pseudo- dawn photos over the harbour which look very pretty. Sonia woke about 10 and wants to go her own way, so she's going to bus to Mt Gambier. I decide to ride out today as well, after spending the morning bumming around in the library. A minor panic sees me recover my 1GB memory card from Sonia just before she leaves. She's in an expensive restaurant downtown... I think our different spending patterns are a big part of not being compatible touring partners. I'm spending way more than I'd like to, she I suspect is spending less. By myself I'd rarely pay for accommodation... but I do buy books. Got a Vernor Vinge novel for $5 in a bookshop so very happy. That should get me to Mt Gambier with any luck.

On the road, it turns out to be 108km to Mt Gambier instead of to Nelson. I misread the map and end up going to Nelson in one evening. I find this out on the outskirts of Portland when there are road signs. I like the one with both Nelson and Mt Richmond on it, as both those place names are also in the area I grew up in New Zealand. I decided initially to just ride 10km out of Portland and bush camp, then ride on in the morning. So I pull off the road and find a really good site to camp, then cook dinner and lie in my hammock for a bit. But I'm all full of energy from not having ridden anywhere in the last couple of days. I think the 100km day into Portland has woken up the touring part of my brain, and now I have to actually ride somewhere every day.

I'm also reading "Webs of Power" by Starhawk which is interesting - a lot about the WTO protests in various places around the world. Interesting to think that the WTO provided the impetus for global Indymedia and a lot of other multinational counter-cultural linkage. She writes a lot better than I expected from her talk at the Active Sydney Fair (photos). But her book also makes me angry at the powers that be. So I focus on being out in the forest, and meditate a bit to clear my head. This becomes a pattern as I read her book - read for a couple of hours (often less), stop and think about it, meditate to calm down a bit, then turn the energy into energy for change. I come up with a pile of ideas for stuff to do, and resolve (again) to try to focus on non-arrestable actions.

But simple ideas, like a forest defenders logo featuring a tree with fangs. Think angry ent ;-) All I have to do is come up with a way to use the logo... I'm also reading the newspaper (psychic pain? bring it on!) and angsting about superannuation. But there's the counter-argument that super is part of the hyper- individualised consumer cult that we're all pushed into, and I should resist. All this has me ready to work off some energy in the traditional male way, by acting out physically the mental journey.

So I pack up (which takes a good 5 minutes), and hit the road again. There is a subway for cows that is interesting - I'm used to cow slop all over the road rather than this construction feat. Which I greatly appreciate, cow poo is second only to fresh tar for gluing itself to irritating parts of a bike. Later I cross paths with a slightly dented echidna that seems intent on staying on the road until it dies. After much argument it agrees to get off the road.

Riding at dusk seems to be the time to see kangaroos, as I ride through the endless miles of pine plantation I see several groups of them. But the pines get on my nerves, as they're no fun to camp in. So I push on, checking out any promising site in the hope of getting a good possie. But it's not to be, and I end up in Nelson for the night. Specifically, I end up down a side road testing the hammock in its ground mode. By tying one end to a fence post and the other to a rock I end up with a bearable tent, and sleep through light rain and heavy dew. I wake before anything really happens in the morning, having slept literally on the side of the road (in full view of passing cars), without incident.

Wednesday 31 December

Toured Nelson (it's small), took photos of the waterfront and stuff, then cooked breakfast while waiting for the National Parks office to open so I can pay for my night in Mt Gambier (not that you're supposed to pay after the event). The woman eventually arrives (5 minutes early), and tries to persuade me not to pay. But I want to. National parks are important, and paying camping fees makes it very obvious that people are using them, as well as making a small contribution to running them. We compromise on me donating to the big walking track that's built and run by volunteers 255km of it!).

After Nelson I stop at the border into South Australia and read the informative sign talking about the surveying of this bit of the border. Interesting. There are huge numbers of what look more like sea snails than land snails on the posts that hold up signs, and I have no idea why they're there. But they look cool.

I decide to go to Mt Gambier via Port Macdonnell, on the basis that it might be more scenic that way (or something). I try the Picanninnie Ponds road, but while it's amazingly good for a gravel road I lose interest and turn around. No real idea why. More planning comes up with the idea of going to Snuggery or Millicent (Snuggery just sounds better), then Beachport, Robe, Kingston SE. From there it's either Coorong NP or inland to Keith. Coorong has 145km with no towns and possibly dodgy water if it's as coastal as it looks. I do all this off the map, and really will have to talk to people in Kingston to make a decision.

So I ride over to Port Mac, and it's all grotty coastal grey sand and dune and blowing salt. Sort of like Kaikoura without the whale watching or dynamic downtown area. However, on the way in is a sign saying "Orwell Rocks", a sentiment I wholeheartedly agree with. There's no space in the campground, and a friendly local tells me that there's not a lot else to see or do anyway. I have fish and chips, which are not as great as advertised. It all begins to seem like a bit of a let-down, so i ride on out of town having refilled my water supplies.

A few kms out is a sign saying that it's only 9km to Ewens Ponds. These are the springs that feed 8 mile creek which surprised me on the coast road for being such a big creek. More water than many Australian Rivers, in fact, and fresh. So I ride into the ponds thinking that I might well camp there over night.

The ponds are cool. No, they're cold. And no camping. But they look nice, and there are lots of people passing through and looking at them. There are a lot of flies, and it's hot, but the water is too cold to swim in (even for other people!). People with wet suits and scuba gear provide entertainment by climbing back out and putting on multiple layers of wetsuit before setting off on a half hour dive down through the three ponds.

After some fooling about I ride back out to the main road and head to Mt Gambier. So much for taking it easy, this is turning out to be an 85km day. I pass the Allendale East Cave which stands out because the town is tiny but the highway divides to go through it. Turns out that this is because the cave is in the middle of the road. The sign explains that they tried to fill it in once, but failed. So the road goes around it.

I check into the Blue Lakes campground in Mt Gambier because experience has shown that bush camping on New Years Eve is more risky than usual. I SMS birthday greetings to Renata, who was born at 11pm on this date some years ago now. The eve passes without problems, aside from a bunch of new arrivals who encourage me to move camp in the night to get away from them. Easy enough...

Thursday 1 January

Being in the last major town for a while, I want to burn photos to CD and play in the shops. I even have a shopping list. But New Years Day is not the best time for such things. So I bum about in the campground and tour the Blue Lakes. It's all pretty. I chat to people and read my book a lot, and my mother rings me. I message others to warn them that I'll be posting stuff to them (books).

I also start making bike notes, so that Ben has some idea what I think of the bike. I may even write a review of it, since it's a fairly remarkable thing - $2200 for a recumbent bike makes it 30% cheaper than the competition. There's a pile of minor niggles, but nothing serious. I think it comes down to the bike not really being built for touring, it's more of a town bike - light, fast, with some luggage ability and reasonable components. 27 gears, front disk brake, standard rack mounts. But put 50kg on that rack and a 90kg rider, and the frame flexes a bit. Surprisingly, the brakes still work and the bike is rideable.

Friday 2 January

Rode into town to shop, in bare feet because my feet are a bit low on skin. In Portland I lost skin off my heel to a supermarket trolley, so I had bare feet going up a hill to the lookout. Which means that for the first time in 20 years I stubbed my toe. Grrr.

Anyway, I visit the info centre (closed), and the three bike shops (one closed). None have any spare 9 speed chain, but one offers to sell me a whole one... no. I get photos burnt in the photo shop, and spend time showing off my camera to the owner who is a bit annoyed that he hasn't been able to get one into stock. But he likes playing with it, and the photos come out ok. I feel like a bit of a yuppie in there, to be honest, I have toys that possibly no-one in town can really afford, and a lifestyle to match. But mostly it's the lifestyle - rural towns are a bit fragile and people tend to focus on the traditional life path, while those who want to live like I do leave. Such is life. I also shop for food and books, which is a bit sad. No good bookshops present themselves. I verify CDs in an internet cafe, and burn a duplicate of one that fails (since the photo shop burnt two copies of everything).

I note that my front page is borked, and can't fix it because I don't have the right password handy. Webmail has also broken, and I don't know why. Which is a bit of a bummer. On the other hand, it's nice hanging out in the campground where the staff are friendly and the people in general seem to be peaceful. I chat to a few people but mostly keep to myself and laze about.

Think about destination, since Port Macdonnell put me right off riding along the coast. Naracorte will be the next place, because there is Bool Lagoon and the caves. I buy a copy of Australasian Science since it comes with a bonus free second issue, and there's an article about the marsupial lion in one of them. Said lion can be seen in fossil form in the caves.

Saturday 3 January

Diary claims to be unsure of the day, but it guesses Saturday and it's correct. Whohoo! Left Mt Gambier nice and early, wandered through some odd scenery - the "Lake of Birds and Angels" is just another couple of artificial ponds with some ducks and geese. I dunno, maybe I missed something. Later is the forestry museum, where I pay my $4 for a tour and have a bit of a chat to the dudes who look after it (it's also the local RSL). Like all logging towns, it's in the throes of serious downsizing, with the recently upgraded mill due to close soon. So much for jobs from the timber industry... wait for the company to complain that there aren't enough residents to keep the volunteer fire brigade going.

I stop for a meal in Telford Scrub Conservation Park, which seems to be a bit of remnant bush that's now being looked after. It's actually very nice, and has lots of info signs and an elevated boardwalk to get you up into the canopy a bit. I spent a couple of hours just wandering around, because this is the first wet forest I've been in for a while and it's nice. The signage about brown snakes doesn't thrill me, but the only animals I see are birds, and something running away that I suspect is a bandicoot. But it disappeared into the bracken fern very quickly so who knows. There are bandicoot diggings, though.

I stop at the lakes just short of Penola and put my hammock up in a barbecue shelter because the gum trees here are shaped like weeping willows and harbour bull ants (that bite). Much farting about ensues, as I chase birds about the place and generally amuse myself.

Towards the end of the day I get a bit sick of the lake, and the lack of decent sleeping sites. Well, that I can find easily anyway. Don't like walking around in bare feet (got bitten a couple of times), and don't want to wear shoes while my heel heals. So I ride off in search of better accommodation. This proves hard to find, as Penola marks the start of the wine belt. I ride past furlong after furlong of vines, wineries and hostile signs. The clouds come over and I'm treated to a display of rather impressive storm clouds at sunset, followed by some spots of rain. I find a picnic area that looks like a likely spot, and has a camper van in it already.

There are more bull ants, but a couple of suitable trees and more rain. I pitch fast, and leap boldly into my hammock as dark falls. It also rains a bit, but who cares once I'm inside where it's warm and dry.

Sunday 4 January

The weather is not looking brilliant, but I ride anyway. Bool lagoon is only 30km or so away, but a few km down a side road. The overcast skies make for boring photos and the birds lack enthusiasm. I take photos of the amusing sign and pay my fee. Wandering about I see more varieties of birds but less amusing ones than at the Penola lake. But Bool Lagoon is big, and I don't see much of it because it's kind of boring in the dull overcast light, and it looks like rain soon.

The sign: In response to the two signs "no access without a permit" and the one show with no permit being listed for cyclists, I took one and wrote "Despite your attempt to deny me access, I am donating $2 and taking an entry permit. Cyclists like birds too!" on the envelope that the money went into. Oddly, at the camping area the overnight fees have a place for cyclists. Who knows the minds of bureaucrazies.

I leave the lagoon and head for the next scenic delight - Naracorte Caves. At least caves aren't really affected by rain. It rains intermittently as I ride to the caves, which are off the main road up a hill somewhere. I pay for a tour and wander around looking at stuff. Very cool, especially the stalactite that's formed where someone drove a nail into the roof of the cave. It's a dirty rusty colour, but mostly remarkable because it doesn't drip visibly and it's formed in the middle of a flat bit of ceiling with no others around it. The theory is apparently that water is coming down out of the limestone because of the hole that the nail made. But that part of the trip was interesting - the guide was into explaining some of the science.

I also left the team there my Australasian Science mags with the marsupial lion article coz it seemed as though they'd appreciate them. The lion article maybe not... there was a fair bit of attachment to the fearsome predator theory, which the article suggests is unlikely to be the case, it's more likely that the thing was more like a giant rat that scavenged rather than hunting per se. Interesting to read, however. And it made up for the really annoying display case with a skeleton of a lion with a big snake skeleton wrapped around it... that was in a glass case so arranged that it was pretty much impossible to take a photo of it due to the reflections.

I was more impressed by the diorama area with slightly animated model of various animals in a big room, Quite realistic, and very interesting to get an idea of just how big the giant wombat actually was.

Rode out to Naracorte in fairly heavy rain, and found a backpackers. Got settled in and then the rain stopped. Bah. Talked to people there, looked at the map, and decided that riding 300km of farmland into Adelaide was not really my thing. The alternatives seemed to all involve a lot of riding for not a lot of scenery, so I booked a bus instead. This way I can get into Adelaide, try to switch my ticket home so I actually get home before I'm supposed to start working again, and work out what to do then.

Monday 5 January

Took the bus to Adelaide. Kind of packed my bike up - handlebars and boom strapped to the bike, rear wheel separate, and the chain removed and strapped up. Made the bus driver happy, which is what counts. Some significant number of boring hours later I was quite glad I hadn't ridden the distance. I messaged TJ who is one of the two people I know in Adelaide, and got invited to stay for a few days and hang out. She's at TWS coordinating the volunteers or something, so that should be good. And the Peace Pilgrimage arrives soon!

Got off the bus, put my bike together and headed out to find a map and work out train tickets. Ran into TJ who was biking off to get her car. Which was good. TWS is right next to the bus station. Went to the train station and found out that the train I want to be on is full, but I should ring up and see if anyone cancels. Twice a day, sort of thing. Hang out at TWS for a while.

Tuesday 6 January

Woke up early and wandered around TJs park ( Belair National Park) which is just across the road from her house. So lucky... It's an older park, from the days when national parks were not that much different from any other park - but it has been replanted and is full of interesting birds and animals as well as trees. It's just that the trees are all in lines ;-)

Once the crew woke up we spent the day making costumes for the Fringe Festival parade. The TWS kids will have a bunch of seriously impressive costumes and it's a somewhat labour intensive process making them. I spent much time gluing small triangles of cloth to a headress, to make a parrot head. But mostly I hang out with TJ and Emma, and hear about the TWS stuff that's going on.

Wednesday 7 January (and Thursday)

The Peace Pilgrimage arrive in town. I take photos and hang out, TJ works. Meet up with a few of the crew that I know and a lot that I don't. Interesting. Go the Yellabinna Action Group meeting and hear about that campaign (big arid area to be turned into a conservation park of some sort).

Spend most of Thursday doing TWS stuff. TJ assembles a pile of 900mm wide strips into a 10m by 7m banner for an action on Monday. I carry it down to Trades Hall where the peacers are, so we can use the video projector to lay out the lettering. Bike not impressed with the extra 15kg on top of all the other stuff, I notice the frame flex in a big way but the bike survives the trip down a long steep hill from Belair to the city. I pass a book shop with tables of $1 books, so stock of for the train trip. Which is now scheduled for Friday after all. That will make the boss happy. Find a bike shop and drag a box to the train station, where I deposit it as left luggage for the morning. Sleep at trades hall with the peace team, cooking rice to have for breakfast the next couple of days. Buy food to eat on the train.

Friday and Saturday

Put bike in box, lash it up with rope, check in and wait. I met a german dude who is motorbiking around for three weeks, and taking the train when he gets over the biking part. He gets to wheel his bike into the luggage car and lash it in place, which makes him happy. He has horror stories of how other people have tried to tie it down. I discover that I could have just wheeled my bike on, but the people in Melbourne when I booked my ticket didn't know that. The one on the phone when I transferred my ticket didn't either. I'm mildly grumpy, but think about the guy at the bus station who got two trashed wheels from not boxing his bike, and think that at least that shouldn't happen to me.

Spend 24 hours on the train, and two in Broken Hill. Get back to Sydney eventually. The Indian Pacific is not a bad train, and according to a guy I talked to who uses it regularly they often do the thing of adding carriages at the last minute, which is why I ended up in a Ghan car rather than an Indian one, and got on at the last minute. But it was comfortable enough and I slept fairly well.

The end.