Broken Hill - July 2014

Saturday 5th July 2014

 

Sydney, Katoomba, Lithgow, Bathurst, Orange, Wellington, Dubbo, Narromine, Trangie, Nyngan

 

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. 

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. 

Nyngan - Trophy outside the Beancounters House

Old Nyngan rail station

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.

 

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. 

Wilcannia Police station

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. 

Scenes from Broken Hill

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.  

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)

 

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.  

Mannahill pub

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. 

Peterborough - old theatre converted to cafe

Peterborough motorcycle museum

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.

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.

 

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. 

 

Mildura

Murray River at Mildura

 

 

In the Mildura Brewery Hotel

 

Thursday 12th July, 2014

 

Mildura, Euston, Balranald, Hay

 

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. 

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. 

Balranald to Hay, fairly flat

 

 

The old home in Hay

 

Friday 13th July, 2014

 

Hay, Griffith, Temora, Yass, Goulburn, Sydney

 

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?

The full trip