Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities
Friday 27th July 2012
I leave home at 8am and run out of fuel about 20 minutes later, switch to reserve and then refuel both the tank and the spare fuel container in Belmont. I ride on and south of Swansea I enter one of the few 100km/h speed zones I will be travelling through, and the traffic speeds by me. I turn off the Pacific Highway at Lake Munmorah and travel along the coast to The Entrance. I stop in Towoon Bay for to make a cup of tea and to fill my Thermos with tea for later in the day. I repack and head west to Tuggerah and then up into the forests of the Central Coast Hinterland. I travel through to Kulnurra and then on to The Letter A and then Bucketty and Laguna on twisting turning forest roads. I am following the Old North Road which was hand built by convicts back in the day and as I roll into Wollombi the main tank runs dry again (after 140km) and I flick back to reserve again. I do a lap of Wollombi and end up down the back of the Rural Fire Service shed on a small concrete basketball pad where I refuel from the spare fuel container and pause for a cuppa. It’s only another 30km to my night camp at Broke and it’s a pleasant ride on a winding road which follows Wollombi Brook. At Broke I set up in a reserve alongside the Brook and knock up some noodles and a cuppa soup. I am in my sleeping bag by 6pm and asleep. Unfortunately sleep doesn’t last long due to the uncomfort factor of the ground mat and I spend the whole night tossing and turning. Nearby, the bright lights and constant thrum of a generator from the grey nomads camp also assist to keep sleep at bay.
Distance = 187.38km
Max Speed = 78.4km/h
Moving Time = 3h 42mins
Moving Average = 50.6km/h.
Saturday 28th July 2012
I get up around 7am after an uncomfortable nights sleep. The thin ground mat that I have chosen to travel with has underperformed and will be the first item I jettison when I return home. Despite the heavy frost I was warm enough in the sleeping bag. It takes around an hour to break camp, make a brew and get back on the road. It’s a 25km ride into Singleton and I have upgraded to my thicker Winter riding gloves, and glad for them. I stop in town to refuel my spare fuel container and to buy one litre of engine oil, and then travel on. It is a glorious morning and everything clicks into place as I wind my way through the countryside with music cranking out through my headphones, and every song seemingly referencing the current moment. I turn off the Gresford Road onto an even quieter country road which turns to gravel for a few kilometres and then I pop out opposite my Aunty’s house in Vacy where I stop for a morning cuppa and some toast. I put the bike onto the centre stand and it topples over in the soft earth, I am mortified and heave it upright and shift it to firmer ground. Little do I know that by days end I will have dropped the bike on its side numerous times. I carry on east towards Wallarobba, then Brookfield and down to Glen Martin. Just east of Clarence Town I venture off the main road and begin my “shortcut” through Wallaroo Nature Reserve. The first 5km will take one and a half hours to negotiate. It begins innocently enough with some slippery mud and a few puddles and then progresses to a severely eroded narrow rutted track and then culminates in an incredibly steep and insanely rocky climb up to Gilmore Lookout. The “Gilmore Trail” turns out to be a washed out goat track and I push the postie as hard as I can until she stops on the incline and then I lift off the saddlebags and run alongside her, struggling to keep her upright and from bouncing on top of me as she bucks and bounces over the rough steep terrain. As she bottoms out on her sump skid plate and wheel spins, I call on all of my reserves to physically shove the bike forward uphill until she slides forward off the rock and the wheel gets traction again. This happens over and over again. As I surmount each tricky section, I park the bike and walk back down and bring the saddlebags back up. I am in a Catch-22 situation, as I overcome each subsequent obstacle I am more and more loathe to turn around and back out of the situation, but still don’t know what lies ahead. At one stage I am perched on the side of the hill, balancing the bike with one hand, while I try and take the saddlebags off with the other and two trailbikers come down the hill. They ask am I sure I am okay (so obviously I looked like I was struggling) I reply yes and ask how the track is further up, rough they say, it will be a struggle for you on the postie. I carry on and get no relief, and am absolutely spent when I take yet another run at the beginning of yet another section, and this time mange to hang on and throttle through it, helping the bike through by walking it without dismounting and then we are on the top off the hill. The road smooths out and even the downhill is a relatively good road. In seemingly no time at all I pop out the other side onto the Pacific Highway, the drama behind me. From here it is a straight forward ride home in less than an hour down through Medowie and Williamtown, over Stockton Bridge and a weave through the suburban streets of Newcastle. Mission accomplished. Note to self, if it isn’t marked as a road on an NRMA map, think seriously about taking it, and if the going starts to look tough, sometimes it’s better to look for a workaround at the outset. Then again it has been said that adversity strengthens the mind as labour does the body, so who knows…….
Distance = 180.16km
Max Speed = 80.4km/h
Moving Time = 3h 58mins
Moving Average = 45.3km/h
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