Tuesday Goin' home- Hit the Road Jack!

Mon foggy Tue fine. Well I was feeling better anyway. With Aunt Rosemary breathing down my neck I had that bike loaded and I was pedalling furiously out the front gate by a little over 7 am.
My first taste of highway riding came on the Comet River bridge. I was admiring the new steel superstructure on the rail bridge, then I started looking down at the old road bridge my father had helped build in his prewar smithing days. Suddenly I realised a B-double tanker was right behind me. With cars coming from the opposite direction he had little room to manouvre. Oops.

However with a generous shoulder on the bridge I still had enough room to stay alive! Shortly after Comet River I swung left onto the Olive Vale Rd and my adventure had started.

I'm still reading up on details but the road from Comet to Minerva (on the Emerald Springsure road) was a coach road. A map of wagon routes pre1880 doesn't show it but shortly after mail coach service number MS108 ran twice a week Comeville (now Comet) to Springsure. In those days Emerald hardly existed- Springsure was the main centre.

I followed the coach road as far as Millroy Downs turn-off then swung left (south) to Springton to the bitumen Arcturus Downs Rd. I didn't notice any obvious relics of the coaching era on this road- there has been considerable development over the whole area as I said over the last few decades, but possibly someone well versed in local history could bring it to life.

I encountered a wide range of road surfaces. Near the beginning were some wild gravel stretches. Bulldust turned up quite often sometimes unexpectedly. Seen through the sunnies the road seemed the same colour- but suddenly the bike would suddenly swing sideways as hard surface suddenly became powder exactly the same colour. In places blacksoil road promised a wild trip in the wet.

Country also varied widely. Plenty of good rain had grown wheat crops on cultivated land which were in process of being harvested. Poorer soil types still retained scrubby vegetation. After the Millroy Downs turn (to Minerva) there were superb views across the cultivation to the Springsure Ranges west of the Emerald-Springsure Rd.

I held up well until somewhere in the middle of the day. Lunchtime on I found myself flagging and meal breaks were followed by a kip on the side of the road reading The Last of the Nomads (WJ Peasley Fremantle Arts Centre Press) courtesy of Trevor. It is a fascinating account of how the last two nomadicAborigines wandering the Gibson desert were found and brought out in the drought of the 1970's.

I had planned to camp along Springsure Ck somewhere around Kelso. However itwas still only around 2pm, there was no water in the creek or even remotely green grass to camp on- it all seemed so dry and barren in the droughty conditions I decided to push on for Springsure. As the afternoon sun dropped into the west (and I was cycling west!) I could feel myself baking in the heat. The road at this point was good two lane bitumen with B double grain trucks thundering past regularly.

I finally staggered into Springsure around 5pm fairly flogged out but happy. Drink and ice-cream first-and then off to the Showground. I should have realised it would be nothing exciting- no bbq or picnic table and even the amenities were pretty basic. The private park was the same price- and two kilometres away! To hell with it I would wear the privations of the Showground! In fact my energy flagged to the point where I simply rode back downtown and bought fish and chips! And crashed quite pleased with my day's achievements!