Good morning galahs on Day 3

I managed to pack up my things, admittedly rather slowly yesterday morning, and navigated the treacherous mud to get my breakfast. Thr tent fared the night very well but the bos was slow to get going.

Packing up was only the first chore though, with a much anticipated hill climb and busier roads (day 1 everyone was staggered up a bit more).

The effect of the rain was not all that evident on the road until much later but the hill was evident. Rumour indicated that for the most part it was a 6 degree climb and you could feel it in the legs, even if you didn't know that. however lunch was on the other side of it. for me, i expected some great views, a great downhill and sense of achievement.

There were some other though that had forgotten the point though as they used their energy reserves to push their bikes up the hill. Heads down, mind defeated... it's slower, less efficient and this isn't The Great Vic 'I Pushed my bike for 600kms'!

The downhill after lunch made it all worth it with some reaches speeds of 74kph if rumours are to be believed. Alas speed is the enemy of the sane and someone inevitably came off, with sirens and lights of police and ambulance being required.

But I made it in one piece, and here I go again, on my birthday, ready to attack Murchison!

PS not quite ready - still need to pack, collapse tent, eat breakfast ad take some panadol foe the saddle sores!

I think i was in a cyclone

I'm scared to look outside and see how much rain fell last night! i've also been holding it since 1030 last night because I didn't want to leave.

Something I overheard from my tent neighbours, "argh! My gloves are wet!", "mate, you're an idiot, that's the lest of our worries"

Today's ride has been extended for 6 km's and we will climb more than 600m's in elevation. Bring it on.

Day 1 of the Great Vic

It was a two lane street, which I suppose is fairly atypical for this kind of place. Humid but cool and early in the morning after a big rain, you could hear the lorikeets starting up their familiar screech. the trees on the northern side of the road were all eucalyptus, twisted but strong from their years. Years that were well established at the base of their trunks; scarred as they have been by the Australian bush. On the other side they were misleading, at first appearing like smalls shrubs, but really they are just babies, hiding in the shadow of their parents with a lean away from the road.

What is typical is the sound. Along with the unseen lorikeets you could hear that ever present hum of an idling truck's engine at the servo, with cars rushing by on the highway. Leading down the side road a Give Way sign was framed by two 60's and a Hilux coming the other way.

I stood in the middle of the road, taking it in. Looking forward to a week in the bush.

Now, I'm lying in my tent listening to the pelting of rain, the bass of the fake U2 band has ended and people are heading back to their abodes in this insane tent city. We've built it from a sheep paddock, the softness I feel below my buttocks is really just Roo Poo.

It was a beautiful day, firstly riding in the sun, enjoying the serenity of being on holiday, alone (with 4999 strangers). I looked out over the wheatfields as I rode (I won't pretend to know what they really were, but shell refer to everything as a wheat field). Along their edges native trees remained, or had been allowed to grow, but sometimes only in a comically designed pattern, or a pattern of no design. Some tall and others skinny, and yet others doing a lean-to resemblant of a pushup. Their shapes are so familiar but I could stare all day, even at those that stand as burnt out husks without a leaf, but a testament to endurance.

Occaisionally a fellow rider would remind me I wasn't alone, but for the most part, being here with no seatbelt, windscreen, timeline or expectations gave me such a sense of peace from a busy overactive world.

Day 1 is done, as I rest in Dookie, so tomorrow let the road take me to Euroa!!!