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Beer, Flies and Bulldust 4

 The return trip back to Windorah was hard going, and once again I had one arsehole who decided to pass me on the left, and once again I gave this bloke the same treatment as the other bloke had received. I stuck to my 50km routine the whole way back, and the fuel usage showed just how much hard work it was. I ran out of fuel about 500 metres before the tarmac turnoff to Windorah. Instead of only falling short 20 odd km, the headwinds had pulled me up some 115km. I ran out of fuel a few metres short of a bloke on a KTM 950 who had done the same. He was waiting for his mates in a ute to turn up to get his jerry can. I would have offered him some of my 5 lt spare, but with another 115km to go, I would need every bit of that, and he reckoned he was happy right where he was. I offered to give him a hand to push the bike about 100 metres or so to a shelter humpy, but he was happy sitting in the shade of the bike with his camel back and having a tim tam or three. After a good yack and making sure he was right, I continued on my way, finally making Windorah before dark. I wasn't really in the right frame of mind for the party that night at Windorah, so I spent little time at the pub, and after dinner retired to my digs out the back of the pub. A top little spot it is too.

I rolled over just before daylight, lit the stove, and waited for the kettle to boil for my cuppa to kick start the day. The day looked like it was going to be a bleak day, overcast and threatening to rain. "Great", I thought, "just great."

After breaking camp, I went for a wander out through to the front of the pub and I found that they were putting breakfast on for the masses that had stayed in town overnight. I had a nice bacon and egg burger for breakfast, great value for 4 bucks too! All I had to do now was point the bike down the road, I'd already fuelled up when I arrived the day before, as per norm for me -- that way I can leave town anytime I want and not have to worry about hanging around for fuel. I took the sealed road back up to Jundah, with the intention of going up through Longreach and onto Muttaburra for the night, but it was a loose plan, and after leaving Jundah, I took the dirt road towards Winton with the intention of going to Stonehenge the long way.

It was good to get back of a main road once again, to have the dirt roads all to myself and enjoy the peace and tranquillity of it all.

I finally arrived at Stonehenge 5 minutes after they were legally allowed to serve me booze, and naturally, I needed a drink… After a good yack to the owners of the pub it was time to hit the road once more, this time I thought it might be wise to take the tarmac route to Longreach, there had been a few spits of rain out on the dirt, and in this black soil country, a few spits is all that is needed for one to become stuck very quickly and that's where you will pretty much stay until it dries out.

Longreach soon appeared before me, and now it was decision time. The ominous clouds were still there, and I thought it wise not to head up to Muttaburra like I intended via the dirt and the dirt back roads to Clermont and loop the back way to home. Any rain along those roads, and I would be in a world of hurt.

It was still very early afternoon and I didn't particular feel like heading to Barcaldine for the night so Longreach for the night it was. I found a nice little caravan park with ultra nice cabins and managed to get myself a damn good deal, some family deluxe place at standard cabin rate. I handed the money over quick smart just in case they changed their minds…

With the cabin, the last note of my $550 was gone, from now on I would be running on whatever was left in my bank account. This wouldn't be much, but if I kept my head, I'd get back home without any dramas. The afternoon was put to good use: got all my laundry done, changed the oil in the bike again and a field service showed only a couple of small issues, nothing that couldn't be fixed on the spot. A visit to the Stockmans Hall of Fame and the Qantas Museum finished off the day neatly. Dinner was a countery job for 8 bucks, paid with coins that were weighing me down, it was good to lighten the load… I spent a quiet night in the cabin, watching some 'B' grade horrible movie and reflecting on the loss of a great mate.

It wasn't an early start to the day, finally leaving Longreach some time around 8am and with the budget in mind, I reckoned heading the boring route straight back to home was in order. A stop at Barcaldine for a late breakfast and then Alpha for lunch.

From Alpha, I had a good run through the hills giving some of those grey nomads a run for their money, making them work hard not just to catch up to me, but to overtake also. I used every down hill stretch to my advantage. I reckoned I would give these buggers some of their own medicine, and make them follow someone a little slower than them. I arrived in Emerald by about 4pm and realized I still had another day before I had to be home, so I was now faced with a dilemma. Did I continue on for another two hours and camp at a great spot north of Blackwater, or pull up a stump here in Emerald? Emerald won out after enquires at a caravan park yielded me with a cabin at half price and a swimming pool. They even allowed me to have a few bundies whilst in the pool…

The last day might have been the shortest distance wise, but it was also the riskiest, I was now in coal mine country, and vehicles of all shapes and sizes would be on the road, from jelly bean sized cars to wide loads 8 or 9 metres wide carrying machinery components out to the coal mines. It ended up being fairly easy, little traffic on the road which surprised me greatly, and for which I was glad. Less people to run over me. I finally arrived back home not long after lunch.

8 days, 2,927km and the highs and lows of a great trip.

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