Over the Hills to Tumby Bay

Starting the Day

Collis had suggested that we join him and Kathy for breakfast at the Five Loaves Bakery in Cummins before we set off on the ride to Tumby Bay. Di and I had had a terrific lunch there when we arrived yesterday (Beef & Jalapeño Focaccia and a marvellous Chicken & Vegetable Soup) so we were very keen. As the day's stage was a short one, Collis nominated 9:00 for breakfast, which also sounded good as we haven't had many leisurely starts so far on this trip. I thought it would be a good idea to have a group photo and was in the process of taking one when a young lass offered to get one with all of us in it. Very nice of her, and this is the result ...

The Motley Crew

Breakfast done and dusted, we set off for Tumby Bay with no stops planned as it was just 40 kilometres away, up and over a low range of hills. Tumby Bay is another place along this coast that was named by the explorer Matthew Flinders back in 1802 and we were looking forward to arriving there, hopefully before the forecast rain hit. 

Almost as soon as I got on my bike I got back off again. I just couldn't resist stopping to take a photo of a classic Australian country image: the iconic Aussie dog in the back of the ute ...

G'day, dawg!

... which, when I saw it hanging out there, put me in mind of that feel-good outback movie Red Dog. Photo taken, I remounted and caught up to Di as she rolled north into the wind.

Getting a Roll On

It was only a few hundred metres before we turned east and had the wind on our left flank. The forecast had indicated that we would experience nor'westerlies for the first part of the day, which worked for us as we would be largely heading East-Southeast. We started imperceptibly climbing almost immediately but the wind was a great help in keeping up momentum. As we climbed the countryside gradually changed, with more trees starting to appear. Di thought the terrain we were riding through was worth showing on video so I pulled out the camera, sat up and shot a few seconds of footage ...

I thought it might be interesting at this stage to show you a graphic of today's ride with the route profile ...

Cummins to Tumby Bay

Collis had paused at the top of the first little rise you can see in the profile, about one-third of the way into the ride and made a comment out the window that if we were lucky we might get into Tumby Bay before the rain hit and then on he went and so did we.

Just after that little rise I glimpsed this scene of a group of sheep silhouetted against the sky ...

Sheep ... what else is there to say?

The feel of the country triggered my memory bank to bring forth a classic Australian poem by David Campbell with which, if you've seen my Of Cockatoos and Kangaroos blog, you might be familiar ...

Windy Gap

As I was going through Windy Gap

A hawk and a cloud hung over the map.

The land lay bare and the wind blew loud

And a hawk cried out from the heart of the cloud,

"Before I fold my wings in sleep

I'll pick the bones of your travelling sheep

For the leaves blow back and the wintry sun

Show's the trees white skeleton."

A magpie sat in the tree's high top

Singing a song on Windy Gap

That streamed far down to the plain below

Like a shaft of light from a high window.

From the bending tree he sang aloud

And the sun shone out of the heart of the cloud

And it seemed to me as we travelled through

That my sheep were the notes that trumpet blew.

And so I sing this song of praise

For travelling sheep and blowing days.

By this time we were really enjoying the riding, which felt quite like some of the country we're used to pedalling around back home in southern Tasmania.

We passed a country homestead which - with its large flowering shrub, old palm tree and bird bath - looked kind of classic so I stopped for another photo. Unfortunately it didn't turn out quite as clear as I'd have liked, but I'll include it anyway ...

Classic country living

A little further was an abandoned homestead from earlier times ...

Potential for renovating, perhaps?

So Foul and Fair a Day I Have Not Seen ...

Actually, it wasn't that bad but shortly after I took those couple of photos the front came through bringing rain and increased wind with a concurrent drop in temperatures and we were sure glad that we had the weather at our butts of rather than in our faces. Despite conditions deteriorating there was still beauty to be seen in the landscape and I couldn't resist stopping about 11 kilometres out from Tumby Bay to shoot this short video ...

 Di went on ahead and the rain intensified. We were quite happy that we were near the final peak of that little range of hills and the high point for the day. We soon found ourselves plunging down towards Tumby Bay with the wind and rain propelling us forward. Folks both at the roadhouse in Elliston the day before and in Cummins had told us that there was a good descent into Tumby Bay and they were right. Despite the dodgy conditions I hit 72 kilometres per hour at one stage. Yee Hah!

Just out of town the road levelled out for the run in, but the rain increased for the flat finalé of about six kilometres. I've just had a look at the BOM site and found the weather observations for the period we were out on our bikes at the closest observation station to us, which is just a little way south of here at Port Lincoln. Here they are, with the actual temperature boxed in orange, the apparent temperature in red, average wind speed in brown, gusts in magenta and the rainfall in blue ...

Wild and Woolly!

Despite the inclement conditions I felt quite exhilarated. We were out in the elements exercising and racing along with the wind and rain at our backs. Sure we were getting our bums - and feet and the rest of us - wet as wet, but hey, we were almost there! I found myself howling with delight, which of course brought to mind a more melodious howling than I could produce.

Arriving At Tumby Bay

Into town we rolled, looking out for a café or bakery in which to warm ourselves with a hot drink and a nibble and found one right on the water called the Ritz Café. 

Folks inside shook their heads in amazement as we came in, dripping water all over the place. One pundit good-naturedly told us we were crazy; I replied equally good-natured that we were the only sane ones in the place. We had a nice chat, with a couple of locals telling us that it was a shame we'd missed the views coming down the hill into Tumby Bay but I was secretly glad we'd had it the way we did. Hell, it was great fun!

This café is just another charming Eyre Peninsula shrine to days gone by, with artefacts like these adorning the place ...

Are you being served?

Would you like to fish for your dinner?

There was even a piano against the back wall near the toilets which I am sure they folks running the place would be happy to hear someone play.

Eventually we emerged after another heavy shower had passed and made our way to the caravan park, only to discover that Collis, Kathy and Jacquei had made arrangements to stay at a pub in town. With the forecast being fairly ordinary Jim and Peter made the snap decision to get a cabin here at the caravan park. Di and I quickly followed suit.

As I sit  here composing this in the comfort of our caravan park cabin the wind and rain are brutalising the exterior of the place. We are not interested in leaving the building at this stage but things could change shortly. It's been that sort of day and I wouldn't have had it any other way.

Postscript: Storm Fallout and Another Major Milestone Passed

Eventually we did emerge from our cabin - albeit with our full wet-weather gear on - to get some groceries. At the IGA we ran into Peter, who asked if we  had any cash. Due to the severity of the weather there were widespread telecommunications disruptions and it was not possible to make any financial transactions using plastic. Not expecting this, Dianne and I were also low on funds but after we completed a barebones shop we had enough cash left over to help Peter purchase the necessaries to cook dinner for himself and Jim.

I also remembered belatedly that we have now ridden over 3000 kilometres since leaving the South Perth ferry terminal back on the 11th of July - so we have covered that distance in just one month. Remember: Di is 65, I am 60 and cycling isn't our main recreation. It's certainly the most ground we have ever travelled on a bike in a month, and I reckon that is probably the case for the other three riders still on this journey. I guess the main message in this is that if you put your mind to it, train appropriately and stick with it you can go a long way on a bike and see some great things along the way.

The finer details of where we are at has become lost in the big picture of the ground we've covered so here's a graphic showing where we've been since entering South Australia on the 3rd of August ...

Border Village to Tumby Bay

I've also circled Port Augusta where we should be after another three days riding - if the weather isn't too miserable, and Clare which is a further two days riding away. 

It's now 6:45 a.m. on the 12th of August. Telecommunication are back up allowing me to do this postscript. We are, thankfully, on a rest day. The wind is blowing quite hard with sharp showers intermittently pounding our cabin. Di is enjoying a cozy lie-in and I'm probably going back to join her shortly. As I've mentioned earlier a number of times, the Eyre Peninsula seems to almost revel in being a bit of a living time capsule for days past so we'll see you later alligator ...