Cathedral Rock N.P. to Tenterfield

Monday 11 June : Cathedral Rock N.P. to Chaelundi Falls Road

67km, 4h 12 min, max 56.8km/hr.

What? You want some geography? ...Too bad!

I left this morning after a short chat with Stewart and Lisa. 8:30 was the predicted departure time and 8:30 it was. The packing is down to somewhat of a craft, but not an art. If you were to walk up to me while I was packing I could tell you (within a minute or two) how much longer it would take before I was riding away. I've had plenty of practice working this out as there's little else to amuse you when you're stuffing stuff and playing with cold occie straps.

Did some 'spinning' properly on the way to Ebor and beyond. This is a cycling theory where you cycle with more revolutions/cadence with less resistance. It makes you tire less or be able to cycle for longer - much the same thing really. It works, except when there are lots of hills and you are lugging your entire food/clothing/shelter needs with you. Good for the long flat rides and for x-training for other sports as a recovery session. But as 'Tour de Lance' says - "don't bother getting out of bed if you're not going to be riding for at least an hour".

Ebor Falls was nice and scenic and about 600m from the road - a cyclist's adored landmark.. not far off the drag so there's not much retracing of paths. I realised later in the day that I would have covered my 3000th km somewhere here. An old talkative bloke at the falls had driven down the gravel road between Chaelundi and Dalmorton with a mate recently and he said that it was in good condition, but a bit rocky. I assure him that rockiness didn't bother me unless it was on a slope over 30 degrees up or down (or when on a boat at sea come to think of it). I had bought the 1:25 000 topo map for that area, which I now didn't really need after the information he gave me, and this perturbed me as I continued to listen to him. I should have expected to find someone with information on the road, but you never know so now I own a fairly uninteresting 1:25 00 topo of a place that I probably won't go back to. Hurrah - what an investment.

Ebor was another 600m further along the main road but it had little to offer me on this public holiday except some hamburger buns instead of a loaf of bread. I'd really had enough waterfalls in the last two weeks and so was looking for something different. That's why this may be the last photo of a waterfall.

Made some phone calls and found out the latest State of Origin result. I could now mention I was a Queenslander in relative safety. I noted a rally car parked next to the NPWS depot as I left the Mobil servo and so took a few photos.

The cycling was pretty good after Ebor with a fair bit of down hill until just before lunch. Lunch was two of those buns smeared with peanut butter and jam and then slapped together gently as to not disturb the sesame seeds. Sesame seeds seem to get the raw end of the deal in terms of bread toppings. They don't have the adhesive security that cheese and bacon has but are much better off than poppy seeds. I bet you never really thought about that. It's not often at all that you'll find sesame seeds inside a bread or cake, and I feel this is a much better place for them to be so they don't get lost... and nothing's more catastrophic than a lost poppy seed or two.

I have decided that with my beard's loss of control I'm going to do something very, very unstylish and out of fashion. I'm going to grow the mo until it is long enough to twist into a 'Mandrake style' one. That'll impress for sure. I'm not sure who, but it'll impress someone. I have to take this opportunity as I don't think it will come along for a long time after this.

As I ride along it's usually pretty quiet except for the hum (bitumen) or krshhssh (gravel) of my tyres on the road. I don't talk aloud unless I'm passing a quadruped that is watching me (in which case I give a call of "Hello cow / horsie / sheep") or I'm running into something (in which case I warble " Look out! butterfly / ant / skink / drainpipe / guidepost"). Now I've just burst out laughing after typing those last few words and that's exactly where I was leading you to. As I roll along and think I'll often just consider what's around me. I jot things in my head for the journal and because I have a slightly quirky view, I'll come up with a phrase, idea or perspective that just hits my humour sweet spot. As a result I burst out laughing. Don't think this is reserved for the cruisy rides on the flat or downhill - this has made me stop a few times slogging uphill because I get so distracted from maintaining my balance. On many occasions it has helped me notice birds, which shoot from the grass in alarm, so it's pretty handy there too. Sometimes it breaks the silence so distinctly that I burst out laughing again at how ridiculous it seems. 'Solo cyclists laughs his way through the mountains.' (And some people were worried that I wouldn't be able to amuse myself.)

Today's entry seems to be about all sorts of bits and pieces not deeply related to what I saw and did. I hope you're not disappointed because you were actually looking for geographical information on this area... it's in Australia between Sydney and Brisbane, and there's sheep about, if that helps!

Jumping back to Clover Flat (Day 23), I remember a conversation I had with Ian. Because of the genre for that day I couldn't include it, but the time has come. I've kept it in mind and since I'm sort of all over the place today I thought I'd toss it in now. There were two topics :

1. We were talking about how on long treks you and you body become adapted to what you are doing. This led to the concept of me becoming a 'prototype MTB touring cyclist'. Enormous lungs and heart, and quads I'd have to walk around, while the rest of my body was merely a structure which held these pieces in place while they were atop the bike. Brain would shrivel as it only needs to balance the structure and sense obstacles. Everything other body part would also shrink to accommodate the essential 'engine parts' as well, and not because of the cold.

2. A Hilton shout was the other topic. He reckoned that upon my return someone should book me into a really plush hotel for 24hours : champagne, hot running bath and spa, warm towels, big fluffy bath robes you get lost in, room service, pay TV on a wide screen, massage, fine food and all those other seemingly exotic luxuries. I could find no ground on which to argue with him. I would not decline the opportunity if it was presented to me.

It was 12km into the Chaelundi Falls campsite. I'd already ridden over 50km and as I wrote before, I had seen plenty of falls. I opted to ride towards the falls until I found a suitable bush camp. This was something I hadn't done since Cox River (Day 45), so once I'd decided that this was the plan I was quite looking forward to it. The only problem was finding a side track that had a cleared level section. Now in national parks and state forests there are side tracks everywhere along a main thoroughfare. So many in fact, that you wonder where the trees and plants root themselves. Yet every one leads up or down when you're following the edge of a mountain around - it's rare to find one that's level for any considerable distance and cleared enough so you don't have to pitch the tent on the actual track. I passed about four which were neither cleared or flat but figured that the odds were with me. At exactly 3km in from the T junction, and I mean exactly, there was a choice track on the left. I was delighted with my find and so I did a bit of surveying to select a place to pitch. It was a 4WD track that was used occasionally it seemed, but there were plenty of logs to at least slow them down if one came in to visit. It was very reminiscent of the first two weeks in Victoria and I really appreciated this.

Here are some of the oddities I experienced at this particular location : a gum seedling was in the vestibule of my pitched tent (I left it there for company); dug dunny hole early but it may turn into a ticklish event due to the grasses around; the stream not more than 30m from my site had a few little cascades that I could hear very clearly and so searched for and took a photo or two of; something big fell about 100-200m away after dusk which made a very big crash!; I was ready for bed at 4:59pm (the earliest yet); I had rack problems again (snapped weld) but I have come to appreciate these as minor and easy to fix considering the recent dramas; plenty of bird calls to please the ear, and hoof prints from what looks like cattle, but may be wild pigs; I was expecting a leech as this was a fairly cool and moist environment (dry rainforest) but found none had found me.

One last item for today - hose clamps. I had been carrying about four in my repair kit since day one and hadn't touched them yet. I had thought about a week ago that the things I never used on the trip I should get a photo of once I get back home... and then toss them as they were just extra weight (I don't think I'll toss that spare $80 derailleur though). I actually used one to fix the rack today and it did a super job. I can't remember who checked that I was taking them, but someone did. The odd part of this story is that pre trip I went into K-Mart and just wandered around the hardware section and fasteners section. A few assistants (can you believe it?) asked me if I needed help, but I said I "didn't know what I was looking for". I was just running through the things that could go wrong with the bike and selecting anything that I figured may help to mend a few parts. The hose clamps were the only things I selected and actually bought. A good choice. An item I would have bought in retrospect are those plastic ties for things like electric cords and garden stakes (the ones that just slip through the other end to make a loop which can't be pulled back). Steve used one to fix his mud flap at the Forestry Camp near the Jenolan Caves and I thought "What a great item to carry". Very light weight they are too.

My what a lot of deep thought ground I covered today.

Tuesday 12 June : Chaelundi Falls Road to Newton Boyd Rodeo Grounds

72km, 4h 55min, max52.5km/hr.

Interesting person, places and things.

The morning canopy above the track.

Twas a mild morning when I first arose. The cascades had that odd effect of making me think my bladder was full all night. Some mice came to visit but they left empty-pawed as every morsel of food was secure in a pannier. A team of possums might have stolen away with the pannier, but I guess they were on holiday.

Mt Chaelundi is in burn recovery it seems. And boy - did it get a nasty burn. So burnt somewhere in the last 5 years that there were large cracked rocks and boulders and many of the trees had been killed. Plenty of charcoal here for those wishing to do a bit of arty sketching. An eerie but intriguing place at 1 360m elevation. You can look over both sides of the ridge from two different lookouts, and you can see Hamburger Rock which is right by the road (it's the one that...). There were very few ferns. I like ferns so I was a little sad. Seedlings galore and some furry trees whose main branches had been killed by the fire - new shoots were coming from the trunk which made them look 'furry' from a distance.

Rode up and down on the 1:25 000 topo, which gives you 10x better vision than a 1:100 00, but I was still cut about the $8.50 I spent on it. I used it/was on it for about an hour. The last 6km to the locality of Dalmorton (once a thriving mining town) was down hill. A 4WD (forestry I think) crept up behind me during this stage and I only knew he was there (5m behind) when I took an obligatory glance behind me (which I take every few minutes on these sorts of roads). (Before I finish the journal for this trip I am going to write a sentence that has a ridiculous number of bracket parts.) At the bottom of the hill I crossed a causeway over the Boyd River which was, well, stony - like all the rivers around here it seems.

At this point a 4WD and I crossed paths. Peter was the driver and sole occupant of this vehicle as I was of my bicycle. He was "a little surprised to find a bicycle" he said. I was not surprised to encounter a 4WD though. Peter was driving about Australia. He'd sold everything he had, bought a 4WD and a caravan and was just driving to different places and seeing the country. We had a long chat about the people we'd met, spirituality, attitudes, Buddhism and yoga, mobile coverage and caravan parks. As you do. It was hot in the sun and I distinctly remember the glare off the chrome edge of the rear passenger's window as we talked. It's funny the things which you remember the most clearly - not often what you expect. It was the type of glare that you can't seem to avoid and is just down right piercing on the retina. Anyway - a good yarn was had that challenged my perspectives and behaviour patterns.

I had lunch about 60m later and then rode on through the Convict Tunnel about 5km west of Dalmorton. It's a tunnel picked and shoveled out of a rock butte that sticks out into the river. It is about 20m long. I know what you're asking - no, there was absolutely no other way around other than to cross the river. The convicts did a good job. You could almost fit a train through it I reckon, and I'm not speaking of the type that gets dragged through a church aisle. No bats like at Boolboonda near Mt Perry in QLD or glow worms like at the tunnel Newnes near Lithgow. (The Boolboonda Tunnel is the longest unsupported tunnel in the Southern Hemisphere... just a bit of an idea for a visit if you're up that way - my old stomping ground.)

The convict tunnel west of Dalmorton. The sturdiest part of the road, for this one also had cracks from landslides caused by flooding. A bit hairy to ride along but the tunnel was novel.

Very rugged inside - they just chopped through the rock. No bats or glow worms here.

I figured I could make Newton Boyd but wasn't sure what was actually there. Perhaps just another locality? Water was low and even though I was following the river access to it was infrequent and difficult. Finally found a spot where I filled the bottles and added a puritab, and soaked the cycling jersey. It was hot. This area had a rough/secretive feel to it. I was feeling a bit cautious as I rode along this road. It was hard to tell whether houses and sheds were abandoned or still lived in. The traffic was infrequent as well even though it was a fairly major thoroughfare.

Some rodeo grounds presented themselves when I had just about had enough. Good timing. Upon checking the trail guide book I found that this was actually the suggested camp spot for the night. Set up half way between the river and the stockyards. I got the impression that there'd been some pretty wild rodeos in this place, with plenty of stupors later on. I was introduced to stinging nettles here which had me baffled for a minute until the pain kicked in. The senses have dulled since March - especially the nerves endings in my legs.

There was literally a parcing lot at this location. So many toilets that I had to go and have a look in them all. A good thing, as they each had something different - long grass, cobwebs, hordes of mozzies, shallow septics or splintery seats - and I wouldn't want to be stumbling around in the dark to avoid these things. The youngest toilet there would have been 15 years old. There was not one that was particularly attractive but who's to complain - it's better than digging your own pit.

I attempted to fish after collecting some water from the river, which I found was actually running about 150m away. The strip near my tent was on its way to stagnancy in a few months if it didn't get flushed out with a flood. There was a tank (for water, not fish) near the hall at the rodeo grounds, but the taps were fixed somehow. The fishing failed again - I just wasn't really interested in finding a good spot and sitting around into the cooling evening. Nice scenery though and a fun place to raft as long as you didn't go ashore and find the nettles.

Dinner was rice, peas and a pea and ham soup mix stirred into one. A bit bland but there are millions who only get the rice part or less. I had a cocoa problem while cooking - the bag has cracks and the re-sealable strip doesn't and it just seems to find itself everywhere in the can it's in even though I have it wrapped well. Cocoa is sticky when it gets on your fingers and it's hard to clean off properly in the dark. Let that be a warning to you all.

As for wildlife - some possums made some noises up high but didn't come to visit, a number of squeaky bats flew past , the plovers hawk away on the median grassed river bed , and some horses don't seem to know whether they're here or there. I gazed at the stars after soaking all these details in. A few planes flew past and then in the gathering dark I checked out the Pointers, Southern Cross and Coal Sack with some fascination.

I'm ahead of time again, so I can afford another rest day or detour in the week ahead.

Wednesday 13 June : Newton Boyd Rodeo Grounds to Mann River Nature Reserve

37.4km, 2h 46m, max 53.7km/hr.

A day of experiences that will remain clear in the mind.

When my sisters and I were just little kiddies that were knee high to a grasshopper, we encountered an unfortunate scenario which we then called 'plop-splash'. I'll leave the rest up to you.

A pink glow filled my tent at about 6:30am. It took me a moment of consideration to work out what it was. I then didn't put my shoes on improperly and stumbled around in the semi dark to get the shots below... and got stung by the stinging nettles twice (which I'd forgotten about).

A four hill day. Well according to my topo that's what it should have been. Six would have been closer to the mark. I took it easy as I only had to go about 30km, but after the last two days it was a struggle to keep moving at times. It was a notably lyrical ride beside the river, even though it was overcast.

The Mann River had some serious flooding in April this year. A fair bit of the New England area sends its run off down this river towards Grafton. Here is some of the carnage that I rode past :

a) Creeks with boulders now in the creek bed where they'd been dislodged from further up the bank or upstream.

b) Logs, trees, sticks... in fact - a forest or two tangled in and beside the still standing trees by the river. Stripped of their foliage too - that tells you something about the current and force of the water.

c) A driveway that had a little bus type shelter had been repaired. Somehow the shelter had stayed with a patch of ground about 20 square metres, while the surrounding gully and road had vanished to leave mini gorges at least a metre deep.

d) Road repairs which simply put the road down the middle of the creek bed - there was no stable area anywhere else and the old section of the road was nowhere to be seen.

e) The Mann River Nature Reserve camping area had lost some of it's camping area. It had also lost a barbecue (stranded in some logs a little downstream) , and another was less than a metre from the 'new' river's edge.

f) Debris from the flood was at least 3 m up the bank - vertical height from the current water level.

g) In places along the road sand and smaller rocks had been swept across it from the creeks. The road was bulldozed and graded down in these spots and left what looked like mini road cuttings.

The NPWS are building a new toilet block here. Hammering and welding away. It's a fancy new one with a little tank and raised above the ground. There are two toilets in the setup and it's a nice orangey colour. There is an old toilet still here which is usable - maybe there was another that got washed downstream and they're building a replacement?

Stuart and Suzanne arrived not long after me and set up upstream a little. I talked with them later in the evening. The site here is quite good and very serene. I intend to stay here for a rest day even though there is nothing of particular note to see within easy walking distance besides what the river may hold. Perhaps a fish? Besides, there's a 13km long/600m+ high climb up next and I wouldn't get far feeling this weary.

As you can see from the photo below, I had no idea where to start looking for wood. The notice board had proclaimed that fire wood should not be collected as insects, lizards, small mammals and other creatures live in the dead wood. I figured there was enough wood to go round, and that those animals were probably floating off the coast of Japan or Hawaii by now.

Actually it was quite difficult to find wood. The smaller stuff was probably out there with the swimming animals, the bigger stuff was too big, and the medium stuff was so well wedged it was a struggle to get it. And you had to avoid the stinging nettles too... which I found before I knew I had to avoid them. But hey - I managed, and I had a good enough fire to bake some damper in the evening after cooking dinner.

I set the damper on the coals and went and had a yarn to Stuart and Suzanne. Well it was more of a very excitable non-stop chat. They were from Western Australia and had been traveling for about two years. They'd been around the southern states and over to Tasmania and had recently been following the same path as me in NSW. They had actually seen my little tent at Wollomombi Falls and later the 'two blokes in the red Suzuki' who came to gather it up late on Friday afternoon. We talked until about 9:30 (late for us both) and then I strolled back to the tent.

Remembered to get the damper upon my return, but when I flashed the coals with my torch it was not there. Hmmmm? How odd. I did make damper didn't I? The coals were still very warm so I had a look around. It was sitting about 5m away with one end opened and neatly munched away. 4/5 of it was untouched so both the possum and I got to enjoy my damper skills.

Thursday 14 June : Mann River Nature Reserve rest day.

Wanna play cards with me?

The BNT guide book for this area says "Take care on the road as visibility is poor in places and the locals drive fast." It adds that the Mann River reserve is "a superb campsite... although like most public camp grounds is short of fire wood", and it is "the perfect place for a rest day in a locality renowned for its marijuana crops". The Glen Innes Prison Farm is about 6km away on the top of the range. Ok then.

Went for a walk upstream at 7:40. It was nice not to have to pack the tent up and to go exploring instead. 'Rock hopped' about a km upstream and then attempted a fish but got that 'not inclined' feeling again. Crossed over and managed to dunk both of my shoes in the river. I was barefoot at the time. Chilled out amongst some rocks for a while before rock hopping back to camp.

Stuart's vehicle and caravan was pulling out when I was in line of sight range with the campsite. He was probably going to find a site that he could canoe down since he couldn't really do it here. They mentioned staying for another day but obviously were hitting the road again. This made me feel slightly vulnerable.

The rest of the day consisted of sleeping, eating, solitaire, repacking panniers, servicing the bike, arranging dinner and pondering life and the people in it. So simple really.

I play different versions of solitaire until I win, then I don't play them again. This pack of cards will be of little use to me soon. I won the remaining version of solitaire that I knew (Kondike) and so had to make up my own. Here it is. (There's nothing like big noting yourself by authorising yourself to name something in your own honour.) As such, this game is called...

Michael's Corners

--> Setup : An array or 20 cards face up, in four rows with five in each row. The rest of the pack stays in your hand face down.

--> Aim : To win... oh... right... by ending up with no cards in your hand. It's hard to win and so this makes for good solitaire and plenty of re dealing and shuffling.

--> Play : You are looking for 3 consecutive numbers which form a 'corner' of any orientation in the array. For example a 4H,5D,6C in an 'L' shape. (Note : Q-K-A is a consecutive run as is K-A-2.)

When you find a 'corner' cover them by dealing out three cards (face up) from your hand on top of the cards which make up the corner. (Deal out the cards so it covers the corner cards from highest to lowest.) There will now be a new combination of corners in that area of the array and thus an opportunity to find further corners.

If you have a corner of say three sixes (or any other number) you can cover those as a corner as well.

A row or column containing purely one suit may also be covered, as may any row or column which adds up to 20.

-0-0-0-0-0-

(I haven't won all day and haven't come close. Let me know if you win this solitaire game and I'll email you a $20 bill.)

Friday 15 June : Mann River Nature Reserve to Deepwater River

65km, 5h 13min, max 54.7km/hr.

Dr Who and the evening chill.

My hands were freezing (-3C)as I was packing up. It's usually the feet because of the dampness from the dew soaking in and the metal cleat under the ball of my shoe providing a direct transfer from the icy ground to the metatarsals. Did you know that the foot contains the most complex arrangement of bones, muscles and tendons of any structure in the human body? No? Well you do now. I'd like to be a physio, but I could handle a bit of podiatry as well if I had a room with good ventilation.

I was deep in thought as I engaged myself to the task of climbing up the range to the tablelands above for the last time on the trip. Bitumen all the way, plus a slope that was rideable all the way. It was 9km to the top as signified by a short down hill section and the return to gravel road... or perhaps it was the paddock with fences or the rusted out car in the ditch with a waterfall that gave it away. A most interesting end to the climb.

I arrived at Glen Elgin at 10:30am and had a bit of an early lunch there. This was about 30km for the day and I could have stopped but had decided earlier that I could get to Tenterfield in two days, and then have a rest day before the interview. Then I could go on to Bald Rock and have a rest day there. I was looking forward to Bald Rock, but I think I've mentioned that. Deepwater River was another 30km on and I had plenty of time to get there.

The hall at Glen Elgin was a great spot to camp, had I chosen to stay. Good facilities with a big, big barbecue, new 'Windyloo' toilet, water tank and a room which I could have stored my gear in or slept in. Of note was the Windyloo - an unusual addition to the pit toilet study I had taken on earlier in the trip. (It's not a fascination, merely something that is usually present at campsites, has lots of variations and themes and are very easy to compare. I could have chosen fireplaces but they've been the same through all the national parks, thus quite boring.) The Windyloo - an unusual name to be sure. What was more unusual was that it just looked like a tank with an exhaust pipe from most angles. It had a grilled locking door and had a floor plan like a number 6. The absolutely most amazing thing about this structure was that it felt like you were walking into the Tardis (c'mon out you closet Dr Who fans) - there seemed to be so much room inside and it felt kinda outer spacey in design. By the way my favourite Dr was Tom's version (fuzzy hair).

I found it grew windier as the afternoon progressed. I was warned by some horseback musterers that the road ahead was a bit washed out - "Can't drive a 4WD through there but you should be able to find a spot to cross". I thought I'd have no worries until I came across the scenario above.

It involved an unpacking of the gear and a balancing act across a log, mushy little island and swampy creek side. No dramas and I was on my way in 20min. An increasing in steepness climb for 15 minutes and then down to the flat to the camp at Deepwater River (hence the name).

I had developed a bit of a headache. I thought it might have been the glare as it was a sunny day, but later figured I might not have been drinking enough water as it was very dry and windy. Cold too. Very cold. It was negative 2 degrees not long before 6pm. I was in for a cold morning it would seem.

Saturday 16 June : Deepwater River to Tenterfield

59.5km, 3h 52min, max 51.5km/hr.

Cows in a lane, then civilisation.

Negative eight again this morning, pushing nine. Bitterly cold so I sat it out in the tent until a consistent beam of sunlight shone on the tent. At least I wouldn't get covered in 'snow' as I left the tent this way.

Once up and at it, it warmed up quite quickly. I had the gloves on when packing but was able to get rid of them before I finished. By the time I was 3km down the road I was riding in just my shorts and long sleeved green shirt. No knee warmers even.

As I rolled out on to the road I noticed my odometer wasn't registering. "Here we go" I thought. I discovered the little magnet that attaches to the spoke had vanished. It was the only piece of my other kit that I didn't get back from the Armidale bike shop. Nice one. I had checked out the system of the new odometer when I first got it and it was a clip on type magnet. I figured it'd be in the grass somewhere as it was registering all the way here yesterday. I walked over the crunchy grass to search in some flood debris near a tree where I'd parked the bike and then where the bike had been standing when I loaded it earlier. No luck in either places. The piece I was looking for was about 3cm long and a cylinder about as thick as a pencil. Needle in a haystack indeed, and a frosty one at that. Asked for better eyesight and for help from whoever was reading my thoughts and obviously someone was. I found it where my bike had been lying on the tarp covering my gear during the night. I hadn't lost hope or patience so felt I got out of this potentially 'rageous' drama unscathed. 'Rageous' and 'swearous' it would have been if I hadn't found the little bugger. I figure the intense cold had shrunk the spoke it was on just enough to make it fall off into the grass.

Speaking of things burring up with the cold - my camera proclaimed 'low battery' when I took a few shots of the frost and glistening grass when I emerged from my tent. I know it was just protesting and telling me it was too damn cold to take photos and to put it back in it's pouch to keep warm, because it worked fine later in the day.

A steady climb up into Capommpeta N.P. which was marked on my topo as Forest Land State Forest (nice name fellas). Perhaps it was another recent N.P. land claim to the disgust of the State Forestry Department. Out into some grazing land which had exceptional grass. Probably a result of plenty of fertiliser as it was unnaturally green compared to surrounding paddocks.

I let the path choose me and I kept cycling at a 'three ways' in the forest. It didn't really matter which way I went. Totally different routes which were only a few km different in length. This led to a stream which I rode through around the edge and then to a rabbit fence gate. Could have been the dingo fence come to think of it. I'd gone through a similar fence earlier in the ride. It must have been the dingo fence as I don't think a rabbit could jump a 1m fence let alone a 2m fence.

A great down hill through the forest followed. I was tempted to dump the gear and ride up it again just to cruise down it again. I'd hate to have ridden up it with any gear loaded on the bike. Winding and steep and altogether interesting. A few km on I however, I had an incident which is not so memorable. It hurts to recall it.

Cows in a lane. Most of the time they pull over to the fence. Most of the time if they do start trotting along the road ahead of you they eventually part, or stop and let you through. Most of the time if you shoot past them on a downhill they'll stop smartly and watch you wizz past. None of those occurred. I followed them for about a km and tried to pass them but was too far behind when I started executing the maneuver. So, thinking that the lane went on for another few km as they usually do in this sort of country decided to scoot past on the next downhill. This I did and they spilt as I came through. Split so much however, that two crashed into the fence on either side of me just after I'd passed them. What about stopping cows? What the hell happened to stopping hey? The fences went crunch as anything would with a half ton beast charging into it. I glanced to one side and saw that the cow on that side had in fact stopped... on top of a horizontal fence. I didn't bother looking to the other side. Shit. In a big way.

I rode on. Feeling very guilty of course, since I'm very familiar with similar incidents with sheep. I couldn't go back as it might stir up the cows more and I had noticed that there was no sign of life in the house where I'd first encountered the cows. Whaddaya do? Luckily for me and the BNT this particular track is not on the trail or the alternative route I was following into Tenterfield. I figured if the damage is that bad to either fences or beasts the owners will catch up with me. I'm not hard to track... and I spent the next half hour working out how easy it is to track a cyclist on a gravel country road.

Made it to the New England Highway at about noon. There were some seriously deep rills / corrugations in the gravel road just before the junction. I have a photo of them for you to show you what I am talking about. Think about riding over those on a loaded bike. Yes, it really, really is awful.

Rode up the bitumen a bit and found a rest area at the top of a hill. Polished off every remaining snack I had (some biscuits, 1/3 block of Kraft cheese, 2 slices of fruit cake) and then called Bruce. Bruce had left a message on my mobile when I reached the top of Mt Terrible and I'd made a large underlined note in my paper journal to ring him in Tenterfield. I was 20km from there and had mobile service so I thought "why not?". Had a long chat and then got my voice mail and sent a few text messages.

Passed a high rock bluff about 10km from Tenterfield which was aptly named Bluff Rock. More ingenious titling. I'd ridden past two 'Sugarloaf' named formations in the last hour. I stopped at the viewing area about 2km further north and got some photos and wondered why there were four vehicles pulled up here. Realised there was a toilet and that other people stop for lunch too.

Rode into Tenterfield (See Trail History (NSW)) and chatted to the lady at the desk there. A old bloke was also in attendance but he was too busy doing something on the computer. Got some info from her and then as I wandered about reading the other stuff in the walls wondered how she could tolerate his whistling as he sat there. It was low quality sporadic whistling and it drove me from the room. (Thought I'd share that with you, as he's the first whistler I've encountered over all these km and I find that amazing.)

Set myself up in the caravan park to the west and on the outer fringe of Tenterfield as I worked out it would be quieter than the other two which were right by the highway. This place's slogan turned out to be 'The quiet alternative'. Walked into the pub for a meal of rissoles and chips with a garlic bread. They have XXXX on tap here and this means I'm very close to QLD. I had a Tooheys Old which I'd drink over XXXX any day, but is still not my beer of choice. It has to come in a green bottle so I can sing that song.

Had a milkshake on the way home at a little milk bar which is very 60's and I reckon I could have been in the US. It's called the Rock and Roll Cafe. The juke box had the coolest songs on it and I could have sat there all night listening to it and soaking in the atmosphere that the place had. Not a soul in it though. I bought some white and dark chocolate frogs to eat later in the evening as I typed some email responses.

Sunday 17 June : Tenterfield rest day.

IN TENTERFIELD STOP TYPING UP SITE BITS STOP WASHED STINKING CLOTHES AND BODY STOP CALLED AND WAS CALLED ON PHONE STOP NICE TO HAVE SERVICE STOP -4 DEGREE MORNING (HEAT WAVE) STOP RESTOCKED FOOD AT SHOP STOP HAVE NOT SEEN A BUS STOP (now that's just poor humour) TYPED MORE JOURNAL STOP VISITED GHOST GULLY STOP WILL TYPE INTO THE WEE HOURS BUT CAN'T STOP STOP (and again) INTERVIEW WITH COURIER-MAIL TOMORROW STOP

Notes :

Starsky - how high can you jump?

Diane and Angela - So shocking I was dumfounded and nearly ran out of there.

Steve - There's been limited 'spinning' through these mountains!

Fe - You're just going to love the mo.

QLD Grade 6s - Imagine hacking away at that rock as a convict. No fancy tools or protective clothing and no heavy machinery - all by hand.

Bruce - Thanks for the refreshing chat.

Greg F. - Do you even know who Dr Who is? I know your wife does.