We smashed through the remainder of Tassie. Nic even smashed into it
with a nasty crash north of St Helens. Wilfy + blood + upset mum = watch
the video. Steamed across Bass Strait on the Spirit. Nearly run over by
multiple fellow cyclists in crazy Melbourne commute scenes (mad, the
lot of them). Tried to lose kids at Hanging Rock, no luck. Tried to find
gold at Castlemaine, no luck. Found lovely host families on this thing
called Warm Showers. Snuck into NSW at Moama. Tried to leave
D-D-Deniliquin 7 times but we’re pulled up for a chat outside the IGA
each time. Hope tumbled off the bike for no apparent reason on Hay
Plains at 10km/h, just for laughs. But she cried. It really is very flat
and there are a bazillion cat head burrs. These have lots of other
names, I know. Don’t start me. Went full outback at Cobar and Bourke.
So, so dry it’d break your heart. Discovered goats rule the world
here, and kangaroos have not adapted to high speed vehicles as yet. Met
Jonathon, Bradley, Brad, Liticia, Ian, Bob, Val, Beverly, Lucy, Matt,
Trev, Kathy, Brian, Jim and a few more along the way. Got a good case of
opal fever at Lightning Ridge and Grawin. Thinking of chucking in
adventure and buying a claim. Convinced to keep riding into Queensland.
Spotted green grass finally. Lit fires and looked for shooting stars.
Found them. Stared at the Dark Emu below the Southern Cross and marveled
at it. Wow, how did we never see that before? And now we’re at Roma.
Our distances have increased to around 50–60km/day for 5–6 days/week.
At this rate we are a very outside chance of making it back to Tasmania
by pedal power alone.
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