Week 27, Part 2

Wednesday 13 October 1971. From Camp 57 to Camp 58

It was a cold clear night. Got up early as the fastest way to get warm is to get on the bike and start riding. The wind was light and from the North and soon it became a nice day. I finally re-connected with the Pacific Ocean in Lake's Entrance, a picturesque, fishing town. Then it started getting hillier again. Giant trees kept me going without being bothered by the wind, but I did have to climb a lot. The hills are steep but short and the road is winding all over the place, which makes it pleasant riding.

(I did not explain to my parents why that is pleasant: being able to see ten of miles or more ahead is rather boring, but these winding roads continually make you wonder what you will see around the corner, especially if the road is going uphill or down hill.)

At noon I had already arrived in Orbost, on the Snowy River. Took a bit of a break here and then in one go to Cann River where I arrived four and a half hours later, not bad considering the terrain. Did another 7 miles, and put up my tent at a fire place kind of place. I had the same excellent menu as last night, but without the bacon. Tonight it isn't quite as cold as it has been.

Thursday 14 October 1971. Camp 58 to Camp 59: 107 miles.

When I woke up, it wasn't cold either. Made a camp fire and breakfast and then got going again. Still up-hill and then down-hill. The highest hill was about 350 meters high, which isn't very high but every down hill stretch brings you pretty much back to sea level. I had a coffee break in Genoa. A quiet farmers' town. Then in one go to Eden. It was getting warm and clammy. By early afternoon a strong, cold NE wind started to chase large grey cumulus clouds in from the ocean. So, by the time I got to Eden, the weather wasn't exactly pleasant. A little past Eden I actually had to walk up a steep hill, as the wind was blowing straight in my face. Up till here the road had been protected by large sub-tropical rain forests. A lot of trucks with tree trunks and cut timber on this road. Every now and then a hamlet with a saw mill. Also some tourist traffic and close to the towns some local traffic. After some more time, I got into a large green valley with beautiful long distance vistas and lower hills. The wind died down, and the dark skies and countless mosquitoes told me I could expect some thunder. By the time I got to Bega, it was already getting dark, mostly because the sun was setting. I found a patch of green grass a little past the town, put up my tent quickly, made a camp fire and started cooking. I was just able to warm up the soup, but the wind picked up, the rain came down and lightning and thunder told me to finish my cooking, so I killed my fire and crawled into my sleeping bag. The thunder sounded nice among the mountains. I was pretty tired.

(Note: I remember this evening well, as I did not have too many other nights with thunder and lightning. The thing that worried me was my metal tent pole: it sticks up into the sky, and seems to challenge the lightning to find it. Even though it was sitting on a rubber footing, I did not trust it, so I put my shoe up side down over the tip of the pole. This fear of lightning was strong in me as the son of our baker in my home town had been struck and killed by lightning while standing guard in the army during a thunder storm with his gun and bayonet pointing up into the sky.)

Friday 15 October 1971. Camp 59 to Camp 60: 91 miles

I finished cooking the half-cooked rice from last night this morning, and left my camp with a full tummy. Soon the weather improved, except that the wind was now against me. I am still going up and down this road but not as hilly as when I was going through the endless forests. That gets very tiresome because it is so boring. After a while the hills got higher again and the views got more spectacular. I had lunch in Narooma. Mostly fishing villages on the section, and the traffic mostly tourists. I rode the entire day in my swimming trunks. Temperatures well above 30 degrees centigrade. But no flies. The last part before Maruya was a rather flat valley, so more trouble from the wind. Did my shopping and then quickly got going again because I wanted to make it to Bateman's Bay today. I arrived there just as the sun was setting. A town very similar to all the other towns like Lake's Entrance and Narooma. Kept going in search of a good place to camp. After three miles, I found a spot in a dark forest, and it was good to get off the road as it was getting unsafe in the dark. I made a small camp fire because the wind was blowing my cinders all over the place. Altogether a pretty heavy day. I did not put up my tent, just rolled it out as a bit of a mattress. (This was my last camp)

Saturday 16 October 1971. Camp 60 to Kiama: 98 miles

The same nice weather as yesterday, but the wind was a bit more from behind than against. That makes a huge difference, especially when you also have to climb. I got up very early as it had gotten cold during the night. Milton was an agrarian town, just like Orbost, Genoa and Bega. Did some shopping there. They call this part of the coast the Australian Riviera. The beach is usually at quite a distance, but the ocean comes into view on a regular basis. The part between Nowra and Kiama was very pretty. I arrived in Kiama well before dark, and I was allowed to camp in a caravan park there at a heavily discounted price. The camping is close to the city on top of a cliff (See the illustration in my journal) with the beach just a few hundred yards away.

I am grateful and content about this week, because I am right on schedule, both distance-wise as money-wise. But I do need a revision because I don't have any extra money for things like new pedals (my current ones have rubber bits falling off) new shoes (large holes in the soles) gas tank for my camp stove, etc. However, I and my bike are in a good condition.