Day 28 - Back to reality

Dusk arrival into Coolgardie

Have decided not to go back over yesterday. There’s not a lot more to say. Met a nice couple from Macau cycling East, and drivers were decent to a fault, not really much a lot else to add.

If getting to Norseman left me a little demob happy it was almost done, today brought me crashing back down to reality. All weather reports said it was going to be a tough, but really wasn’t prepared for what’s just happened. And the motel manager didn’t help matters.

More good signs - Finally have
km count down to Perth

Rather than share local knowledge she called me an idiot within seconds of meeting. Unfortunately this is not the first time on the trip. A too large minority out in the sticks believe handing out crass insults makes them some sort of straight talking bush oracle, breaking down fay city manners.

But calling someone you’ve never met an idiot does not make you a bush oracle, it just makes you rude. A rude, parochial and small minded jerk, especially if the person in question is tired and sore from the road and apprehensive about the day ahead. To top it off, she then sniggered at my questions about hills and roads, saying there was “only one” I needed to worry about. She was wrong.

"Lake" Carson at dawn

There were hundreds of hills I needed to worry about, all day long. It barely stopped from the start to the finish. Short sharp hill after short sharp hill. One 103 miles of pure cycling pain. Then there was the weather. Every weather report said the wind would be against me, they didn’t lie. For four or five hours it was so strong you even had to pump the pedals to go downhill. I was blown to a standstill again and again. Oh, and it was hot. Really really hot. 40 C in the sun, maybe more. Then to finally ice the pain cake there was 30 minutes of curiously cold rain that drenched me mid morning, pushing the humidity up unbearably till sundown.

It was a grim and violent experience, not remotely improved by the fact WA government are mid way through ripping up the entire road. Multi mile stretches were the roughest grade tarmac.

And the road was almost all twists and turns. In a country were people are used to the space and the one mile lead time endless long straight roads, this meant I was cut up all day often by screeching road trains.

Even the scenery was a disappointment. With this part of WA deep in drought all the lakes that are meant to make this a beautiful ride were dried up. All that was left were strange sandy moonscapes over which the wind rushed.

Guest the customer base must
overlap

This was gritty cycling from first light till dusk, when I finally limped Coolgardie. It’s a curious and intriguing little place, and wish I’d got here hours ago. It’s a scruffy ex-gold mining boom town, with roads and buildings laid out for a much much bigger city, which never came as the gold rush moved on. Modest ramshackled homes line the great wide road at generous intervals, peppered with great solid Victoria government buildings and taverns that suggest a greater place and abandoned shops in the high street that never came. It’s cinematic in a dusty sort of way.

All in it was tough day, physically and mentally. After ten continuous days cycling my body make it’s displeasure known, and 04:00 wake up are doing little for my mental breaking point. Howling at the wind in an outback forest, was not really how I envisioned the final run in to Perth. At points it was a proper strain to keep my mind in some sort of calm equilibrium that’s key to getting through days like this.

Everything says tomorrow is looking favourable. Here’s hoping And the motel tonight are charming to a fault (and great cooks). Going to write today off as the grit that makes the finishing sweeter. Glad it’s over, but oddly not unhappy it happened.

Part of Coolgardie's high street
that never was

Miles: 103 – Norseman – Coolgardie.

Breakfast – Standard in the petrol station. Good company.

Lunch – Ham sandwich, crisps and mars bar at the tired roadhouse at the excellently named Widgiemooltha , run by a really decent bloke.

Dinner – Sweet potato soup and Butter chicken curry, Both delicious, really delicious. The manager here is really sweet, kind, and a cracking cook. The best of Australia, reminding me what the overwhelming majority of the brilliant people in this country are like, outweighing the occasional berk like the manager last night. Good end to a dreadful day.