Saturday 5th July 2014
Sydney, Katoomba, Lithgow, Bathurst, Orange, Wellington,
Dubbo, Narromine, Trangie, Nyngan
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| Day 1 |
Time for another trip. My first in mid winter. Bit of a
challenge. Although the Trophy is so protective I am very confident. I have
been planning a trip to Broken Hill for some time. I think the planning is more
than half the fun and it certainly keeps me sane having something to work on.
The plan was to try and get to Nyngan on the first night and on to Broken Hill
on the second day. Originally I had planned to spend the second night at
Menindee Lakes and then go on to Broken Hill, but more of that later.
I was very sensible and had the Friday off before leaving
on Saturday. This gave me plenty of time to pack and prepare the bike, and
still have time to have lunch with my wife and daughter and dinner with my wife
and a couple of close friends, Richard and Hannah. Very relaxing. And I was
even smart enough not to drink too much the night before I left.
Saturday morning I got away from home at 8am. I was
expecting cold. I was dressed for cold and wet. All the gear. I went straight up through the mountains. I was
surprised that over the mountains the temperature only got down to 14c. I
thought that was easy. Straight through Lithgow and on to Bathurst. That’s
where the thermometer hit 5c. That was cold. Then I saw signs saying "ice
on the road". I thought, they probably leave that there all winter just in
case. Then I saw the ice. Talk about focussing the concentration. I slowed
down. A bit. And dodged the ice.
I stopped in Bathurst for coffee and toast to warm up a
bit. I went for the inner gloves to warm up the hands a bit. Nothing to be done
for the feet. Out of Bathurst and on to Orange. Still about 7c. After Orange it
warmed up a to about 10c. No more ice. Yee Haa.
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| Bathurst |
I stopped in Wellington for a bit of lunch and petrol.
While having lunch I did a bit of research on Nyngan accommodation and found "The
Beancounters cottage". This was the old Commonwealth Bank Managers
Residence that had been converted and offered 4 rooms. I rang and booked a
room. The guy said "just go around the back and you'll find a key to the
kitchen door. Go upstairs and take the first room at the top of the stairs. If
that is not made up just choose one of the others". OK. I was feeling a
bit unsure about that.
From Wellington on to Dubbo, Narromine, through Trangie
and finally into Nyngan. 570 Kilometres from home, I was ready to get off the
bike. The last hour coming into Nyngan was directly in to the sun which was
very difficult. I had to put my head down far enough so that the edge of the
helmet blocked the sun or hold my left hand over my eyes to block it.
Fortunately there were a few clouds that gave some relief. The next day I
worked on a sun visor. The Shark helmet I was wearing had a drop down internal
sun visor, which was absolutely useless when looking directly at the sun, but
with some black electrical tape it became an efficient block for the sun that
could be raised or lowered as required.
I found the Beancounters cottage, went round the back,
found the key and let myself in. Up the stairs, first room. All very
comfortable, but a shared bathroom and a long way from the bike parked out in
the street. Mind you there were no other guests so the bathroom was mine. I
found it all a bit creepy rattling around in this fairly large residence on my
own. No signing in. Just help yourself.
After shower and rest I wandered down central Nyngan.
Saturday night. Bound to be raging.
No. Nothing. Nobody. I walked past 2 pubs which did not
look at all inviting. All the bright lights were coming from the RSL so I
headed for that. A few hardy locals enjoying the Rissole. I had a few beers and
out to the Bistro for some lamb cutlets, chips and veg. Not bad. It hit the
spot. The lights went out just after I ordered, but it was the ode. Haven't
experienced that for a while. Back to the Beancounters. Still creepy. Would
have been a great place for a ghost, but there was absolutely nothing. All
night.
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| Nyngan - Trophy outside the Beancounters House |
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| Old Nyngan rail station |
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| Nyngan raging |
I went down to a cafe for breakfast and sent the
Beancounter owner a message saying "how do I pay you for the room?".
I later found a message on my phone saying "leave $100 in a drawer or I'll
call you tomorrow". I had already left by then so I'm waiting for the
call. Never saw a a person through the whole experience. A bit weird. I finally
got a call on the following Thursday to pay the bill.
Sunday 6th July, 2014
Cobar, Wilcannia, Broken Hill.
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| Day 2 |
Got away from Nyngan (escaped) about 8.30am and headed
for Cobar. I was surprised by the activity in Cobar for a Sunday morning.
Nothing like Nyngan. It's full of miners apparently. On to Wilcannia. These are
very long straight roads. Not the most interesting motorbike riding. The most
interesting point along the way was the amount of wild goats on side of the
road. Hundreds of them. And not scrawny looking wild goats. These were big,
healthy animals with shiny coats and large horns. Some of the Billys looked the
size of a calf. A few were on the road as I approached them but they all got
out of the way. I didn't see any goat carcasses along the way, unlike the
dozens of dead kangaroos.
On this part of the trip I came across quite a few groups
of crows in the middle of the road picking on a dead kangaroo. They flew away
as I approached. One group that flew away left something huge that I had not at
first noticed. It was a wedge tailed eagle. He took off as well, but in the
same direction I was travelling and he wasn’t fast enough, so I rode about a
meter and a half underneath him. His wingspan was at least 2 meters and as I
went underneath him he turned his head around and looked straight at me. I
could tell straight away that he wasn’t thinking pleasant thoughts. If only I
had the GoPro camera turned on then.
Between Cobar and Wilcannia I overtook three guys on
bikes. Not long after I came to a place called Emmdale Roadhouse and I pulled
in for a break. The three guys I had overtaken pulled in shortly afterwards. I
had a cup of coffee with them. They were all local guys about my age who were
out for their Sunday ride. Shame they didn’t get any corners.
Next stop, Wilcannia, for some lunch and petrol. I have
been hearing about Wilcannia all my life. My youth in Catholic Primary school
in Hay was full of the information that Hay was in the diocese of
Wilcannia-Forbes. God knows why. It's nowhere near either town. Wilcannia was
quite a small town but has quite a few spectacular old sandstone buildings.
Most unexpected.
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| Wilcannia Police station |
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| Wilcannia Post Office |
From Wilcannia it was on to Broken Hill. More of the
same. The scrub thinned out so that as I got near Broken hill there was very
little ground cover. Although it was not as flat as Hay. There were always a
few hills in the distance.
The first thing you see coming into Broken Hill are the
mines. There is no doubting this town's heritage. It is a mining town through
and through. Found a Motel, showered, dressed and went for a walk. Lot’s of
lovely old buildings in town. Many of them stone. Not too many restaurants open
on a Sunday night, but lots of clubs. I saw the Barrier Social Democratic
(Demo) Club, the Musicians Club, The Broken Hill Working Man’s Club and the Sturt
Club. I'm sure there are more. I headed to the Demo club for no particular
reason. A few beers and dinner and took a bottle of red back to the motel. (No
riding tomorrow, I'm having 2 nights in Broken Hill). A glass of red, a bit of
music and started on these notes. Feeling pretty pleased with myself. About 560
kms for the day.
Monday 7th July, 2014
A whole day in Broken Hill.
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| Scenes from Broken Hill |
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| The miners memorial - Closed |
I have had a lovely day. Up early and down the street for
a big breakfast, then continued walking and covered about 4 blocks back from
the Main Street. Lots of photos. Found lunch at a nice Italian restaurant and
went back to the motel to get on the bike to head up to the Miner's memorial.
This building sits on top of the slag heap at the edge of the centre of the
town and completely dominates Broken Hill. I looked up the route to get there
and headed off on the bike. I soon came to a closed gate with a notice saying
the centre was closed. Someone had posted their own lengthy note asking what
the point was of driving all the way to Broken Hill only find the gate to one
of the major attractions was closed and for Broken Hill to get their act
together. I was disappointed, but I wasn't driven to leaving my own note.
Instead I took the trip 9 ks out of Broken Hill to the
Desert Sculptures. Well worth the trip. the sculptures are on top of a hill
that looks back at Broken Hill in the distance. Spectacular. I went for a walk
down one of the walking tracks from the sculptures. At one point I saw a
kangaroo lying flat on the ground and I wondered what could possibly have
killed it in this seemingly safe tourist zone. I decided to go and have a look
and when I was within about 10 meters it suddenly lifted its head and looked at
me. He looked even more startled than I was. Then leapt to his feet and bounded
away down the hill. He had been enjoying a little kip in the afternoon
sunshine, but I had completely ruined that.
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| Desert sculptures |
On the way back out I passed emus and then a large herd
of wild goats. A lively spot. Back to town and a little rest before venturing
out for dinner. A quick beer in the Musicians Club, where, I am sad to say,
there was absolutely no music playing. Not even pre-recorded background music.
False advertising I think. I wasn't staying there for dinner.
I finished up at the Astra. Formerly a very large and
grand hotel which was now a boutique bar, restaurant and accommodation. I know
you're thinking that is what a Hotel is, but this was a considerable change
from its original form. Double roasted
Duck, a glass of red wine, a coffee and the world was full of joy. A lovely end
to my day in Broken Hill.
Tuesday 8th July,
2014
Broken Hill, Coburn, Mannahill, Peterborough, Truro,
Nuriootpa, (and several other small communities that I can't remember and
you've never heard of)
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| Day 4 |
Got away from Broken Hill about 9am after a nice
breakfast of braised mushrooms, wilted spinach, balsamic glaze on Turkish bread
topped with poached eggs and crumbled fetta at Alfrescos Italian restaurant. It
was a beauftiful winters day, blue sky and about 12c when I left BH, rising to
about 16c on the way.
Once out of BH it was more of the same. Undulating
ground, low shrubs, red earth and a few hills in the distance. Long straight
roads and very little traffic. It did cross my mind that breaking down out here
would be no fun at all. I came to a small town (?) called Coburn that had a
large sign saying “welcome to South Australia”.
More of the same for hundreds of kilometers. The drivers
that I did pass out there were all keen to wave in some form of recognition of
a fellow traveller into the unknown. I passed one other motorbike going in the opposite
direction.
I stopped in a very small place called Mannahill. The
Mannahill Hotel (and museum) was the only place that looked appropriate. I
found my way in to one of the most amazing rooms I have ever seen. Have a look
at the photos because it is too hard to describe. Aussie kitsch meets western
nostalgia with every square inch covered with nick knacks of one sort or
another. The woman running it was chatty and friendly, although she had to
complete processing the mail before I could order a cup of coffee.
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| Mannahill pub |
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| Mannahill Railway station |
After Mannahill there was another hour or so of decidedly
remote outback country until eventually the landscape started to change to
gentle hills and green undergrowth. Eventually I stopped at Peterborough. A
pretty town with a strong rail history, but I managed to avoid the huge steam
rail museum. I did stop at a lovely old cafe that had been the town picture
theatre. It was huge and full of bric-a-brac which made for a friendly
atmosphere. A hamburger, which was so big I couldn't finish it and then I found
the local motorbike museum. A woman there told me that her husband had
collected all the bikes, mainly European bikes that he had imported himself. A
very good collection with quite a few brands that I had never heard of before.
She then went on to tell me her ambition to start growing truffles on a some land she had
recently purchased. Watch out for Peterborough truffles.
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| Peterborough - old theatre converted to cafe |
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| Peterborough motorcycle museum |
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| remains of stone houses between Peterborough and Yunta |
From there the countryside became prettier and greener as
I headed south. My destination for the night was Nuriootpa, which I had heard
of before and was just in the right place and the right size to suit my purposes.
The roads were quite windy by now, and still mainly a 110 kph limit which made
for more interesting riding. I had set the GPS to get me there which was a good
thing because I had no idea where I was and I didn't see the name
Nuriootpa appear on a sign post until I
was about 20 kms away. But I got there. A pretty town in the Barossa valley, home
of Wolf Blass, Penfolds and other major wine companies. Vinyards were everywhere
as I approached the town. Found the Vine Inn in the heart of town and checked
in for a quite night and glass of the local produce. 450 odd Ks for the day.
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| Vine Inn - Nuriootpa |
Wednesday 9th July, 2014
Nuriootpa, Truro, Waikerie, Barmera, Renmark, Paringa,
Cullulleraine, Mildura
No I haven’t heard of half of those either.
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| Day 5 |
Morning in Nuriootpa was 7c and rain. I lingered over
breakfast and getting ready but it was not going to clear. So I finally took
off, the only real problem was vision as I had got the inside of my helmet
visor wet and I spent the first half hour or so with the visor half open so I could
see, getting rain on my face. Still, I lived to tell the tale.
The rain stopped after about 40 minutes and the rest of the
trip was good. Around Waikerie you get your first glimpse of the Murray river
which is absolutely magnificent. From there through to Renmark, the river bobs
in and out of view, always a welcome sight. I stopped in Renmark for a coffee
and then set off for the final run into Mildura.
Mildura was a revelation. I was here as a very young kid
with my parents, about 50 years ago. Amazing how much things change over 50
years. There is a real restaurant, bar cafe scene happening in Mildura now with
lots of local produce featuring on the menu.
Only 340 kms today so I was there in time to have lunch.
Fabulous. It rained in the afternoon and
was very cold. Hoping for an improvement before tomorrow morning.
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| Mildura |
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| Murray River at Mildura |
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| In the Mildura Brewery Hotel |
Thursday 12th July, 2014
Mildura, Euston, Balranald, Hay
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| Day 6 |
A lovely sunny morning in Mildura, breakfast downtown
then on the road. The vinyards and orchards east of Mildura seem to go on
forever. A few glimpses of the river, but never enough. Had a quick look
through Eauston, a nice little town on the banks of the Murray, but I did not
stop. Having grown up in Hay, Balranald was always the nasty spot down the
road. There was rivalry in sports and a bit of one upmanship involved as in
most neighbouring country towns. Approaching Hay from almost any direction you
cross completely flat treeless plain. So I was surprised to see that timbered
country extended all the way into Balranald coming from the west.
Its not til you head east out of Balranald that you hit
the flat open country that seems so familiar to me. It even makes the country
around Broken Hill look interesting.
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| Balranald |
I was in Hay by lunch time. Just under 300 Kms today.
Time to have some lunch and a wonder around the old home town. That night I had
dinner with my brother and my oldest friend in Hay and his wife which was very
pleasant indeed.
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| Balranald to Hay, fairly flat |
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| The old home in Hay |
Friday 13th July, 2014
Hay, Griffith, Temora, Yass, Goulburn, Sydney
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| Day 7 |
Having stopped in Hay I had given myself a very large
trip for the last day. 720 Kms from Hay to Oyster Bay. I had done it on a bike
before, but it had been a challenge, so I was quite prepared to stop overnight somewhere
if required.
Got away from Hay about 8.30am on a cool but sunny
morning. Straight through to Griffith where I refuelled and then on to Temora.
As I left Griffith the sky strated to turn grey and by the time I hit temora it
was solid grey clouds. Looked mre like it was going to snow than rain and the
temperature was hovering around 11c. A hamburger at the White Rose café in
Temora and I pushed on.
Through Yass and I starting to feel the cold and
discomfort. But I made it to Goulburn, which was down to 7c, where I stopped
for petrol and coffee and a good stretch. By the time I got back on the bike I
was feeling pretty good and confident I would make it home.
The last part of the trip went well. The sky cleared
around Mittagong and the temperature climbed up to 14c. Lovely.
I arrived home a bit after 5pm feeling pretty good
considering I had just done 720 km. Well enough to go out to dinner that night,
regaling my companions with tales of the road.
Where to next?
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| The full trip |
