Day 80 | Near the top, bottom?, of the Exmouth Gulf: back out in the bushes

81 km | zzOz total: 3,705 km

There was always time for another early morning drift along the Ningaloo coral reef with the smiling Y, after all that’s why I’m here, swimming I mean.

Roger, another long distance cyclist who turned up yesterday, was astonished at how much I packed on my bike so I waited with the double decker component with my trailer until he was distracted. Biking purists. His bike had been more elegantly loaded and he’d managed London to Kuala Lumpur via Pakistan, China, etc before doing an almost completed circuit of Oz, 45,000 km.

Out on the road finally I stopped for a chat 200 m down the road at the village exit with Anthony a young Pom, (from UK), on his second day attempting to get to Broome. He had the appropriate constitution for hitch hiking, or so it seemed to me, cheery, happy, just loving being young and in Australia.

“Doesn’t get better than this.” I concur.

As I was trying to do a self portrait at the road sign he ran down to take the day’s photo of me, pointing out how yesterday he had attempted to light a fire at the side of the road, for a laugh, well you do get bored, but not such a great idea with the strong winds and surroundings of intensely combustible material.

He had his bigger bag stashed down the bank, outta sight. Good move I pointed out.

Yesterday he gave up mid afternoon after sitting on the ground and discovering ants had bitten him in tender places after running up the leg of his shorts. The swelling went down quite quickly and having to stay another night he had “got lucky”, his delayed departure was clearly meant to be.

He was grinning wildly, completely happy, the only ingredient his life currently missing was movement, and even that didn’t yet seem to be a major issue.

I had movement finally, now about 12 pm, I plugged into my iPod to get up the hill, and being Sunday it was time for some Sunday only music: Karrin Allyson’s melancholic “Everything must change”, that old standard, I guess 1974 is old these days.

Everything must change,
nothing stays the same,
everyone will change,
no one stays the same.
The young become the old,
mysteries unfold, cause that’s the way of Time.
There are not many things in this life
that you can be sure of … etc

In Roger’s travels around Australia the change for much of the northern areas of the continent had been minimal, the views from the road had been, in the main, rather underwhelming. It’s a long grind, far from the coast for the most part from Darwin the Perth, around 4500 km with towns about 500 km apart.

But I’m with Karrin on this one, for today at least. There’s been a substantial change around the Tropic of Capricorn line.

The termites have taken control of the vegetation and birds have nowhere to perch: it’s remarkably birdless, considering the current insect crop.

Instead it’s reptiles.

Very common is a funny little dragon, 150 mm including whip tail, that warms itself on the tarseal and removes itself at enormous speed as the odd cycle tourist treadals past. Dozens of those rocket scuttlings keep me amused.

Also 3 smallish goannas, a whip snake, sadly roadkill, and an ambling larger dragon styled lizard, determined to plunge, lemming-like straight into my rotating wheels.

Most importantly, for my first time ever, a thorned dragon. Now I’m really out there.

Like Anthony I’m supremely happy just being out on the road, breathing, enjoying each, mostly, moment.

It turns out I’m wrong about the birds out in the arid lands, camping behind the only shrub for miles, a solitary galah shows up.

See. All it takes is a drop of water and a garden may flourish.