Albany to Esperance: The Soggy Southwest

Puncture #2

Leaving Albany

Getting out of Albany took some doing. Due to a severe weather warning Collis called another rest day, which worked out well in terms of the weather. This also allowed me to get a tooth fixed that I'd broken back in Pemberton. Being long in the tooth as I am, I thought to just have it extracted,  but the nice, transplanted Canadian dentist at the surgery convinced me that it was worth saving. If you are ever in Albany and need some dental work done, look for the Harter family dental care clinic ...

Tooth problem solved!

Darryl (the nice Canadian) and his Scottish wife Mary (also a dentist) were travelling around Australia twenty-two years ago looking for somewhere to settle and open a practice. They landed in Perth, made their way to Albany and thought, "This will do nicely!" and have been there ever since. They were great in accommodating me and my tooth feels great so I highly recommend them.

Not long after leaving Albany I had a puncture. As you can see in the photo above, it was the rear wheel. I've got my wet weather gear on because it was wet when we'd left the caravan park. Luckily the rain had eased up by this stage rather than increasing, so fixing the flat wasn't nearly as onerous as it could have been. In fact, the rest of the journey was pretty dry with the wind mostly over our left shoulders, so pretty good going. 

I liked the look of this tree in a pond a little further down the track so circled back to take a photo ...

Another roadside attraction

A little further on we were greeted by a strange sight across the road ...

Rural (very) still life

 I'm really not sure what kind of carcasses they were; perhaps the three on the right were kangaroo, and I thought the one on the left might have been a feral cat.

Today would be the longest day of the trip to date: somewhere around 150 kilometres was the estimate, and a bush camp at a small township called Gairdner our destination. However, we stopped for lunch beside a roadhouse at a place called Wellstead and Di and I got chatting to the proprietor. He arranged for us to use the community hall, which meant that our first bush camp turned out to be a relatively luxurious and largely indoor affair. In fact, everyone except Peter, Dianne and I opted to sleep inside, with one of our party even erecting a tent in the hall ...

Indoor camping

It was so exhilarating seeing the sign for Gairdner that I let out a series of whoops as we swooped down the gradual descent into the township. Unfortunately however, although I'd checked the inside of my tyre carefully when I got the first puncture of the day, I got another in the same tyre just as were arriving at the community hall, so I wheeled my bike the last couple of hundred metres.
Examination of the exterior of the casing this time revealed a tiny pebble or rounded piece of dark glass embedded in the casing. It seemed rather ironic that we'd done almost four and a half thousand kilometres of training in Tasmania on far worse roads than we'd been experiencing in Western Australia and only had one puncture between us, and now on brand new tyres we'd had three in less than 1000 kilometres - all in the back end! Anyway, it was good to arrive in sunshine and be able to carry out repairs to the tyre and patch up both the tubes in case we have multiple punctures down the road. The day came in at 148 kilometres, so pretty close to the 150 mark predicted and the unexpected bonus of hot showers gave us all a tremendous lift and allowed us to look ahead to another long day in the saddle with some sanguinity. 

Canola Country: Gairdner to Ravensthorpe

With another 150 kilometre day ahead we were all keen to get a fairly early start, and were away by about seven-thirty, which was a good thing. The day's route started with 32 kilometres slightly uphill overall into a cold headwind, where Di and I managed just a shade over 20 kilometres an hour. Luckily we knew that once we turned the corner at Jerramungup we would have the wind over our shoulder again. 

This part of the world is largely devoted to farming, with canola cultivation occupying vast tracts of land, often almost as far as the eye can see ...

Canola country

This is fairly flat to undulating country with long, straight roads. However, the South Coast Highway east from Albany to Esperance is not a very grand affair, with very few passing lanes and often no shoulder at all. Traffic roars by at 110 kilometres an hour. The verge varies between having a smooth transition from bitumen to dirt and significant drop-offs. Road trains abound, which can be a bit unnerving at times. In fact Darryl the Dentist warned me to be wary of the road trains, suggesting that it would be good if our support vehicle(s) followed closely behind our group(s) of riders. On the other hand, looking at things from a cycling point of view, the good thing about the widespread cropping and relatively flat roads with long straights means that drivers generally have plenty of opportunity to see us.

One thing that we touring cyclists come to value with our mode of travel is the ability to appreciate the minutiae of life along the road. Di and I very much enjoy touring about the country with our camper trailer as well, but we know that we don't get quite the same connection with the environment when we are actually on the move as opposed to being in camp. On the bike we hear the birds in the bush alongside the road; we smell the perfume of the flowers; we feel subtle shifts in temperature and wind direction. And, unfortunately, on these roads with fast-moving traffic, from time to time we see the mayhem that is caused to native wildlife and birds ...

Beauty's finish

The riding was mostly gently undulating, with a good breeze over our shoulder for the rest of the day. It was made a little tedious however by the fact that I'd been up and down all night visiting the toilet with a rather inconvenient gastric complaint, meaning I felt like I had no energy. Di had developed a cough during the day, probably from our slow plod into that cold headwind at the start of the day. Still, we were pretty pleased with our progress overall, given the condition we were both in and were looking forward to arriving at the finish.

Eventually after riding across what was really a rolling plateau for pretty much 110 kilometres we could see what we thought was the town ahead, but it seemed to off to the side more than we expected. Soon we started a long and quite exhilarating descent to what turned out to be the Phillips River just a few kilometres out of town, but then of course there was an equally long and slow ascent back up to Ravensthorpe. But that was more than compensated for by the experience we had riding through some major roadworks on the outskirts of town. There were flocks of galahs ahead of us on the verges of the road and indeed on the road surface itself. They kept flying up, wheeling and skirling away and landing in front of us.

For those of you not familiar with these wonderfully charming and quirky Australian birds (actually a member of the cockatoo family) here is a little video that will give you just a hint of what they are like ...

Now imagine riding towards large flocks of these these wonderful birds that take to the wing as you approach, becoming clouds of keening, wheeling, wing-beating pink and grey creatures moving as one entity, calling out playfully as they effortlessly move away in front of you. This happened several time with perhaps half a dozen successive flocks over a kilometre or so, and was the moment that made our day. In fact, I'd have to say that it has been the moment of the trip for me so far, despite feeling more relieved than exhilarated upon reaching Ravensthorpe - unlike our arrival into Gairdner the day before.

We had discussed the notion of upgrading to a cabin once we got to the caravan park in Ravensthorpe. The distance for the day tallied up to 147 kilometres, meaning a total of 295 kilometres over the two days, which was by far the farthest we've ridden over two consecutive days. We both felt we really needed the rest that a good bed in a warm sheltered roomy space would provide, and decided that's what we'd do. It was a good decision as we both felt we much better the next morning.

Road-train Roulette: Ravensthorpe to Munglinup

It was great to know that we had a nice easy day ahead: only 85 kilometres, slightly downhill overall and with the wind at our back. The only downside to the day was the frequency of  road-trains roaring by and the (literally) patchy nature of the road in places. Actually, the quality of the South Coast Highway between Albany and Esperance was generally not as good as it had been from Walpole to Albany. In fact Darryl the Dentist had warned me to beware of the road-trains along the way. 

We found the nature of the drivers behind these steel behemoths varied enormously: some would give a quiet warning toot as far back as half a kilometre, then pull right over on the other side of the road to pass. At the other end of the spectrum we found them bearing down on us with no warning, passing no more than a metre from our right shoulders. Luckily, the latter type of driver seems to be the exception, otherwise one's nerves would be so shot it would be impossible to get back on the road each day. 

At sixty kilometres into the day's ride Di stopped to adjust her clothing. I was in pulled over in front of her and, hearing a road-train approaching, whipped out the camera to shoot this short video of it passing us by (if you turn the sound on your computer/tablet/phone up to high, you will get some hint of the noise they make going past) ...

You will have noticed that this guy has given us plenty of room, for which we were thankful.

Munglinup became our first true bush camp, and it was great despite not having the best climatic conditions. It was relatively mild when we arrived early in the afternoon and got the tents up, which was great. Here is an overview of the camp ...

Munglinup bush camp

It was a bonus having a table to put stuff on, and plenty of room to spread out.  But don't let this peaceful setting fool you: within a few minutes a blast from the southwest had swept through chasing at least some of us into our tents. Nonetheless we soon had a fire going ...

A fireside chat ...

The evening was terrific, with Di and Fran entertaining us up until dinner with tunes on their Celtic whistles. But what really made the camp was the wonderful meal that Kathy put together over the fire once we had developed a good bank of coals. She served up an almost bottomless pot of delicious Japanese chicken curry, followed by a heartwarming fruit crumble. It was exactly the sort of food my stomach wanted after the trials it had endured over the past 36 hours or so (and the assault of the pub meal I'd prematurely subjected it to in Ravensthorpe the night before). 

The Munglinup Roadhouse was, unusually, situated off the main highway. As such it seemed to cater largely to local farm workers rather than passing truck drivers. There was little on offer that was tempting, but they did have a nice sign over the shop ...

Cockatoo country

Munglinup to Esperance

Before leaving Munglinup the next morning I took a photo of a road-train that pulled in a little earlier so the driver could get a bit of kip. If you haven't travelled the outback of Australia, this might help get the message across of what we're dealing with on the roads ...

Road-train at rest

I wasn't in a photo-taking mood on the last of our four days from Albany to Esperance. Di took this photo looking ahead towards a rolling hillside with an attractive but somewhat ominous sky behind ...

Green hillside and darkling sky

I couldn't resist turning back and grabbing a photo of this sign ...

Rabbit Proof Fence Rd

I'd always thought that the famous Rabbit Proof Fence was along the eastern border of Western Australia, but found out that I was totally wrong on that score.

Something else of a manmade nature I couldn't resist stopping for was this signage, which I just liked the look of ...

Home on the range

Even though it is just over halfway through winter there are plenty of wildflowers about ...

Bottlebrush

After lunch at the 77 kilometre mark, Collis gave us the directions for finding our way to the caravan park. I've generally got in the habit of taking a picture with my phone so that I can easily check details where necessary. This is what our directions for the run in looked like ...

Directions to Bathers Paradise

Perfectly clear. Pity I didn't consult the phone as I - like Peter before me - missed the turn into Goldfields Road. At least I realised my error before going more than a couple hundred metres past the turnoff, so Di and I didn't have to backtrack too far.

Our distance covered so far is just under 1200 kilometres, over 10 days of riding and 5 rest days after our pause  here in Esperance. We are about one-quarter of the way to Melbourne via the route Collis has painstakingly set out. Here is a graphic that shows how much of the route along the coast between Perth and Melbourne we've now covered ...

Southwest corner: TICKED!

There's still a long, long way to go, but we feel we've made real progress. It's a great route to be riding. Di and I have done our shopping and girded our loins for the next 12 days of uninterrupted riding, with approximately 1520 kilometres to be covered before we reach Ceduna and another break. 

To leave you with a last impression of this little coastal gem - which we didn't see at its best because of rather wet and blustery conditions - here is a photo I took on our way into town this morning ...

There should be another post when we reach Norseman the day after tomorrow.

Until then ... cheers!

Postscript:

Di's hip continues to improve, so thanks for all the positive karma. Now can you please make her cold go away?