Friday, 31st December, 2004
December 24 - 90 mile straight
We both slept well, but leaving Balladonia at 5 a.m. cut it short. Don’t worry, we weren’t leaving early to do some late minute panic buying for Chrissie! The idea of doing the 180km stretch to Caiguna in one day had entered my head. But when we stopped at the large sign stating, “90 mile straight – the longest piece of straight road in Australia (146.6km)” we both looked at each other and said “Nuh!” I mean, we do like the occasional challenge, but today wasn’t one we would win. We pushed slow and hard into the wind as we bee-lined to the eastern horizon.
The road was deserted, except for the occasional late traveller and roadtrain. Our waves were 
returned with another and sometimes with a horn blow full of Christmas cheer. The down side of this road is the abundance of roadkill. Kangaroos are prolific during the day, so it is easy to understand why they end up on the road at night.
We stopped to have lunch and a car immediately pulled up. “Are you okay? We saw you earlier today when we were heading in the other direction.” They had hit a kangaroo and had to return to Norseman to replace their cracked radiator. After a long chat we waved them off, with Argo now decorated with tinsel as our present.
Our ride finally finished late in the afternoon, amongst the only trees for 20 kilometres. We managed to find some bushes protected from the wind, so we pitched the tent, ate some cous cous and tuna, and then went to bed, despite the wind noise.
December 22 – 23 – Two days into the Nullarbor (so far so good)
We pulled out of Norseman early, still in a cloud of smoke and heat and nervous tension. A few kilometres out we took the turnoff to Balladonia. We’d started the Nullarbor crossing. For only the second time on the trip I thought “we’re actually doing this”. While I was still contemplating this moment of truth, a council officer pulled over in his 4WD and warned us that the fires were raging 30km up the road. The road had been closed all night (it was now 6.00am) and he warned that we may be asked to turn back… or not. We decided to keep going and turn back if we had to in 30km.
It turned out to be a good decision. The fires seemed to have burned themselves out and we had no trouble getting through. It turns out we were very lucky, apparently the fires got going again in the afternoon and the roads were closed for some time. We decided that fires must be controlled by different gods to the ones who manage the weather.
We spent the night at Fraser Range station 100km up the road. We had thought we’d be camping, but were tipped off about the station at Esperance. It has only recently started offering accommodation (and they are still building more facilities) but the station itself is quite historic. We walked through the old shearing shed, still with Sunbeam shearing machines on the walls, balers and an old fleece on the wool classing table. We stayed in the original shearers’ quarters, a low stone building with a long verandah that was lovely and cool to sit on and have our “end of a hard day” beer. And to top it off we shared dinner, chockies and wine with fellow residents Neil and Rachel in the old shearer’s kitchen – original wood stove still a feature of one wall. What a great way to end our first day on the Nullarbor.
We would have loved to stay longer and explore the station – apparently there are some lovely walks and lookouts – but we had to get on the road by 5am the next morning. The road to Balladonia Roadhouse was long and hard, thanks to the relentless headwind. But fortunately it kept the temperature below thirty five degrees (my comfort limit) so I can’t complain.
December 21 – Nullarbor here we come… maybe
It was so hot and smoky in Norseman (bushfires raging all around) we decided to trial our Nullarbor survival strategy immediately: forget the budget and check into an air-conditioned motel. I really like this strategy.
We had a hot smoky day off in Norseman preparing for our Nullarbor blast off. But we did find time to visit the museum run by local pensioners. The town has a proud cycling history and several bikes from the 1930’s are held there. No gears, and some with home made tyres. 94 year old Mort was happy to show us to Cobb Seinor’s bike, 1935 champion and grandfather of Mike who we stayed with in Esperance.
We also cruised the main streets, extra wide to allow camel trains to turn around. Camels preceded road trains as the main form of freight hauling along the Nullarbor until about fifty years ago. The only camels in the main street now are made of corrugated iron.
The visitor’s centre was very helpful, and provided us with a great Nullarbor road map which lists all the rest areas, water points and road house facilities. I was feeling a little (ok, a lot) nervous thanks to predictions ranging from mum’s “you’ll kill yourself from heatstroke” to the manager at Nullarbor roadhouse’s “y’mad, y’gonna die”. The current conditions seemed to be supporting them.
To make matters worse, a cyclist had recently been killed by a roadtrain on the Nullarbor near Norseman. Luckily mum hadn’t found out about this, but I can write about it now because we’re well past the area where it happened. We’d been hearing various versions of the story for the last ten days: the cyclist was riding at night, or maybe in the day; he was American or Canadian but his English was very good; he was seen in places he’d never reach; he was sucked in by the slipstream of the truck and fell under the trailer wheels…Well, the real story is still the subject of a coronial inquest but the Norseman police could reveal that the cyclist was hit by the truck’s front bumper on the white line on a shoulder of good road during the day. Our own experience is that road train drivers are the best on the road, they always give us plenty of room, but we decided to be extra vigilant with our rear view mirrors and always pull over if there is any doubt that the truckie hasn’t seen us.
December 19 - 20 – hard road to Norseman, the horse who found gold
As usual the wind tried to stop us from leaving and did its best to blow us back to Esperance. But thanks to a week of good food and no exercise we were too heavy for anything short of a tornado to budge us. We pedalled hard and made it to Grass Patch in time for lunch. Grass Patch is a tiny place which has a pub, a grain silo and, you guessed it, a tiny patch of grass next to the pub. That’s it.
As usual the wind got stronger as the day progressed. By the time we reached Salmon Gums late in the afternoon we were mightily weary. Salmon Gums has a pub, a service station, a beauty salon, some salmon gums, a few houses but no grass patch. Also no food for sale on a Sunday night except frozen bead. Which was fine by us because all we needed was a beer. I still hadn’t got over the XXXX overdose that Shane from Barrow Creek force fed me so Ross suggested I try the WA brewed Emu. After all we would soon cross the border and be in SA beer territory. Bad idea, it was the sort of drink that makes your mouth stretch in strange directions and your tongue pop out. “They call it wife basher”, the barmaid confided. Ross ended up having to drink my beer for me… luckily I’d worn him out cycling all day so I was safe.
Apart from our poor choice of beer, it was a lovely old pub. It came complete with cute kittens (I’d played with their siblings at the pub at Grass Patch). Hey Cat, a little ginger fuzz ball, asked to be picked up and then promptly fell asleep in my arms still purring like a diesel train. His sister contented herself with chewing on Ross’s water pack and chasing flies. Meanwhile a friendly Rottweiler kept her eye on Argo for us. We hadn’t stayed in an old pub since Queensland so we decided to spend the night here. After all we didn’t have the energy to make it to the caravan park.
We left early next morning in a cloud of thick smoke. There were bushfires everywhere which didn’t do my asthma much good. Luckily Luke and Bob came to the rescue with a cup of tea. We had met in the pub last night (as you do). Luke and Bob work for Kings Park Botanic Gardens in Perth and have the best job in the world: they are paid to travel Western Australia in a caravan looking at wildflowers. They very kindly identified some of our photos for us. Their current mission is collecting eucalypt seeds for the seed bank, and their 4WD was packed with sacks full of them. “This is eucalypt heaven” said Luke.
At the end of another hard day’s ride we finally rolled into Norseman. Norseman was a horse who found gold for his owner so the town was named in his honour. Having had nothing but bread for 24 hours we headed straight for the supermarket hoping we hadn’t missed closing time… and were in for a wonderful surprise. Our friend Matt, alias meals on wheels, the chef with the big blue bus, was there to meet us. His dad had been following our website and tipped Matt off that we were on our way. Sorry we’re late mate.
Saturday, 18th December, 2004
December 15-18 - Recovering in Esperance
We rolled into the driveway at Mike and Chris's. Chris is Dr Andrew's sister and offered to host us for a few days. As I have said to Ann, almost daily, we are very lucky people to be on this journey. After unloading and sitting down to a wonderful curry we were told it would be warm tomorrow - 42 degrees. A slight change after the cool weather down here in the south west!
The hot north wind rolled in early and the temperature had reached 43 by late morning. Ann was pretty bombed but Mike arrived home and offered to take us on a drive along the beach to Cape Le Grand. Fantastic! Bonnie, Chris and Mike's West Highland terrier, joined us and before long we were diving through waves, cooling down after the hot day. The southern ocean is noticeably cooler than the west, perfect for the day which was finished with a BBQ.
After an early morning chat on radio we went shopping for supplies. The only food you can buy for the next 1,200 km is from roadhouses, not the best for cycling, so we will mail some ahead. The temperature had hit 43 again but today we could smell smoke -the bushfire season had already started.
Friday was the end of the school year, so Chris and Mike, both teachers, were looking forward to being 
free at last (well, for the next six weeks anyway). But it was a little bitter sweet for Chris, a year 1 teacher, as she becomes quite attached to the children she looks after. It is different for Mike, who teaches 150 high school children and relationships aren't as deep (neither is the Christmas present haul).
We celebrated the end of the school year together with a drive to Pink Lake. Mike teaches biology so he could even name the type of algae that makes the water appear pink, Chris was very impressed. Not a bad achievement to be able to impress your wife after about 30 years of marriage, lets see if Ross can live up to it in about fifteen years time. We did the full tourist loop, stopped at all the lookouts to admire the spectacular edge of the continent and gorgeous white beaches, and dropped in at the wind farm. Like Albany, the wind farm supplies a large proportion of the town's energy - not only is the area very windy, it is also remote which makes other forms of power very costly.
Ross and I were party poopers and didn't want to go out for dinner, so we celebrated at home with Mike's homemade pizza and a couple of bottles of red. We had bought all our supplies, updated the website and done all our chores - we were ready to leave early next morning. But we didn't feel like it - so we're still here. We'll head for Salmon Gums tomorrow, then Norseman - last outpost before the Nullarbor.
Friday, 17th December, 2004
December 11 – 14 – Doing it tough
Next morning we rode off into a raging headwind that kept telling us we should have stayed with Linda and Dingo’s. The country was hillier than previously and at the end of the day all we had to look forward to was a night in the tent. We were very gloomy.
We rolled very wearily into the rest area at Munglinup and pitched our tent. Things were looking up: there was grass, and a toilet. This is luxury camping. There was also a roadhouse where Ross got a hot cup of tea and the proprietor cooked us a trough of hot chips. Yum. We saved our cold rice for lunch the next day.
And we needed it – it was hard pedalling. More hills and stronger headwinds than we experienced yesterday, ugly countryside, no road shoulders, rough surfaces and 115km of it. Ross declared it our hardest day ever, and to prove it wasn’t just us getting soft, the cycle computer recorded our lowest average speed to date (even lower than when we hauled our soft white bodies out of Sydney eight months ago).
We decided that Esperance better be good – but luckily it is. Guess what – we haven’t left yet.
December 10 – Dingo & Staff
We left The Lily very well fed and relaxed, with a loaf of Pleun’s spelt bread and some of Hennie’s free range eggs. We had about 110km to ride in hilly and windy country, but it was so beautiful the day went quickly. The landscape changed constantly from blonde wheat country to national park and back again. The wheat harvest is on now, and it was wonderful to see silos brimming with golden grain. We stopped at the side of the road to watch a header( a harvester) working a paddock, then emptying its load into the waiting tractor’s chaser bin. The roads were thick with grain trucks carrying their cargos from farms to depots, but as usual the drivers were good to us and gave us plenty of room.
As we got close to Jerrimungup we looked out for a property called Timbaroo. We met property owners Linda and Dingo at a roadhouse near Daly Waters pub in the NT several months back and it would be great to catch up. But we weren’t hopeful because we didn’t know anything about the property except that it was near Jerrimungup and there was a sign outside that said “Dingo & Staff”. We rode wearily into town without finding it, and were about to ask directions to the caravan park from the first car we saw. The driver turned out to be Linda. “You’re late”, she said, “we were expecting you in November!”
We arrived at their farm to hear laughter from the shearing shed. I quickly went inside, to find Dingo and the shearers finishing the day with a few quiet ales. “You’re late, mate!” he said – country folk sure do know how to use a calendar. My apology was accepted.
They had finished their harvest two days before, so it was now time for some shearing. Unfortunately poor rains meant a small harvest – normally finishing in January. Dingo invited us fishing for the weekend, but we reluctantly declined as we’re already three days late for Esperance.
The BBQ that night was great. Thanks Dingo, thanks Linda.
December 8 – 9 – The Lily
Since Christmas for us will be spent sweltering somewhere on the Nullarbor, we decided to celebrate early. Our Christmas present to ourselves was a night’s luxury accommodation and dinner at The Lily. The Lily is a Dutch windmill built against the spectacular backdrop of the Stirling Ranges, about 100km east of Albany. Well, we needed something spectacular to uproot us from Albany. We were in serious danger of becoming Andrew and Christine’s permanent tenants. But back to The Lily. I will admit that when Ross first told me about it I was a little confused as to why you’d travel to the Stirling Ranges to visit a Dutch windmill, but somehow when you’re there it all makes perfect sense.
Pleun had been wanting to build a windmill for many years, but it wasn’t until he and wife Hennie found the property by chance that they had their location. Pleun followed the design of The Lily, a windmill near his home town in Holland. He built the mill single handed over several years using recycled materials. “I wanted to build a working mill, not just another fake” he told us. Not only does the mill work, Pleun grinds his own spelt flour in the mill from wheat he grows – then he bakes bread with it. We ate Pleun’s bread and drank the wine he makes from the grapes he grows while listening to him playing sax (he has recorded his own CD). Meanwhile Hennie is a fabulous cook. As if that wasn’t enough, the accommodation is wonderful, like being at home (including cats) except much more stylish and with beautiful views. Pleun built it all of course.
We arrived late after a long hard ride from Albany – hills and headwinds – so it seemed an awful waste to have to leave early next morning. But luckily mum emailed to say that my brother David would like to give us a night’s accommodation for Christmas. Yes!!!!! It didn’t take more than 30 seconds to decide to stay another night.
And just as well we did. Our BOB trailer had got a lift to Borden the previous week, not far from The Lily. Hennie lent us her car to pick it up – which was lucky because BOB’s dropouts (that you secure the axle to) were so bent there is no way we could have towed it with the bike. We’re not sure if Qantas or Australia Post caused the damage, but it took time in Pleun’s workshop using windmill strength vices to fix it. So we were obviously not meant to have left, and got to enjoy another sunset and sunrise over the Stirling Ranges.
December 7 – We were going to leave, honest…
It seems not even Argo wants to leave Albany. We were all set to go when Ross discovered Argo’s rear bottom bracket was loose. Chris, the world’s best bike mechanic who we met in Alice, predicted that this might happen. Despite Argo being a top notch bike she has bottom of the range bottom brackets. Shame on you Cannondale. We had to put off our departure to visit the bike shop and get new brackets… except the local shop didn’t have any. So we ordered replacement parts through the bike shop at Esperance and hoped we’d make it.
Tuesday, 7th December, 2004
December 4-6 – Beached whales
It is easy to imagine the bays being full of whales, even the headlands seem whale shaped. We must read Tim Winton’s book “Shallows” again. It was written against a backdrop of whaling here, the town where he grew up. Kate went to school with him but doesn’t remember much about him. “He was probably one of those nerdy kids who was good at English” she says. Kate is Bill and Jan’s daughter, and we had a lovely roast dinner with them. We met Bill and Jan at Banka Banka Station in the Northern Territory a few months back and they contacted the stroke foundation to find out when we would be here.
After a week we are still here in Albany, building a layer of blubber to see us over the Nullabor. But strangely we have not put on any weight. I bought some new bike shorts, two sizes larger than usual to fit over my Bulgarian weightlifter thighs which are truly huge now. I also sport a stylish knee strap which completes the look – I could also be mistaken for a shotputter if you ignored my skinny upper body.
Ross is enjoying walking around town with his new orthotic (courtesy of Andrew and David) which really improves his gait. We don’t want to leave, and each day we say “tomorrow” but now we really have to go if we want to make Eucla by Christmas Day – and we do, because that is where Ross’s mum is mailing the Christmas pudding. And anyone who has ever tasted Betty’s Pud will know that it is worth crossing deserts for.
December 2 – 3 – When magic happens
A day in a car – strange concept – but people keep asking if we’ve heard of a car so we thought we’d give it a try. Well, we got to go to lots of places, about as many as we’d visit in a week on Argo, but they were not connected by a sense of journey. And we didn’t meet anyone. But the places were great.
We visited some of Albany’s wonderful lookouts, gloating at how easy it is in a car. Ever noticed how steep it is going to a lookout? For some reason they are always at the top of hills. The view from the Anzac memorial is spectacular. Then we headed 100km out of town to visit Bluff Knoll and The Lilly. They were so good we booked in to come back and visit properly on Argo – more about them later.
We got back to town with just enough time to make bolognaise and a banana cake to welcome Andrew and Christine to their house when they arrived exhausted from Pemberton. They come here every three weeks for the clinic Andrew runs at the hospital for patients who have orthotics and artificial limbs fitted. Next morning Ross went to work with Andrew and was fascinated by the skill of matching the mechanics of movement and anatomy.
A man whose life revolved around fishing wanted nothing more than to get back to it. He had lost his leg after a life of too much smoking, and had for many years worn an artificial limb. But it did not give him the freedom to go fishing because it was susceptible to rust in seawater. So he was fitted with a special waterproof limb at the clinic and was complete again. David, the engineer Andrew works with, says you don’t often get the opportunity but sometimes “magic happens” and that is what it is all about.
November 30 – 1 December – City of Albany
We turned off the main highway and rode the coast road into Albany. The traffic volume had increased but it was easy to navigate to Andrew and Christine’s house. The old part of town nestles between two hills and looks across the Prince Royal Harbour, separated from King George Sound by Ataturk Entrance. The harbour views as you walk down the main street are beautiful and restful, perhaps quite different to the whaling past of the town.
Sleeping in was not an option the next day. We had an early morning chat to John on the ABC, then back to have some brekky, over to Silver Chain to speak to stroke survivors, carers, and staff – back home to talk to Fran, a reporter for the local newspaper, before we picked up a hire car for a day of “lazy” exploring. 
Don’t worry we haven’t ditched Argo – think of this as a little “luxury” before we hit the Nullarbor. After all, this is the last “city” we’ll see until Adelaide, over 2,800 kilometres away.
First stop off was “Whale World”, a museum housed on the site of the previous whaling factory. A walk around the exhibits make many visitors, including us, question the gruesome and cruel history – how could they slaughter to possible extinction so many huge, intelligent, mammals to extract oil for things as mundane as street lamps? Eventually times changed, values changed, the rise of the conservation movement – anyway, it was commercial viability that finally closed the factory in 1978. 
The skeletons give you an understanding of how huge these creatures really are, and a great 3D film about whale life is a must if you’re over this way.
Next stop was the wind farm – not a good place to ride a bicycle! The wind turbines are huge and generate a fair slice of green power for Albany – good stuff. We walked down to the edge of the site and looked down at the ocean below. You could see it for kilometres east and west, but the howling wind sent these wooses quickly back to the car!
November 28 - 29 – Where is Denmark, really?
The ride to Denmark was certainly memorable! As we slowed for a break, a passenger in a passing 4WD hurled a fist-sized block of ice at us, striking Ann in the middle of her back and hitting me on the arm. Our immediate response was abuse but we weren’t clever enough to grab the number plate. What makes people do things like that?? What does it achieve?
Two very agro cyclists rolled into Denmark, looking for accommodation and a pick-me –up. There it was…a bakery, an AWARD winning bakery!! We booked into the local YHA, then returned to sample the delights. BIG thumbs up. Good coffee next door too.
We waddled back to the YHA and rang a friend of a friend (standard cycling network) who had a farm out of town. The bed’s made and I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning was Win’s typical country invitation!! Looking forward to it.
Win showed us the local lookouts and, after answering my question about the origin of the name, explained that yes, some of their mail does do the long circuit to their post box, via THAT Denmark. Must be the same postcode…right?
We stopped off at the local winery on the road to Win’s farm, but unfortunately weren’t able to sample the medal winning reisling – all ready out of supply, but we will definitely buy the chardonnay when we return (??) to Sydney.
Win and husband Don run Murray Grey cattle on the farm, while son Doug has a property down the road. After lunch I asked Doug if we could visit a local wood gallery. My cabinetmaker gene is obviously still active! The exhibits were well made but couldn’t compete with the local mango berry sorbet we picked up on the way back to the farm! Yum.
The sound of rain on a metal roof always helps you sleep well, unless you are a touring cyclist. We weren’t too distressed though, especially after our huge breakfast. There is something special about fresh eggs, warm homemade bread, with homemade jams to spread, especially that marmalade, Win. I guess it’s all about quality.
We loaded up Argo and waved goodbye as we rolled down the wet road. Next stop Albany.
Sunday, 5th December, 2004
November 26 - 27 – CALM firefighters
After a great night’s sleep we woke to bright sunlight, had a typical country cooked breakfast, and packed ready to go. Not so easy! Argo had a flat rear tyre – number two on the trip. We couldn’t find the puncture, so just replaced the tube and got back on the road.
This was our first 100km plus day for ages but the karri forests were so beautiful that time and distance moved quickly. Rain had been falling but just as we were getting close to Walpole it started to bucket down. So when two drowned rats arrived at the CALM office in town all Mark could do was laugh.
Our hosts for the next two nights were Donna and Mark, both fire officers with CALM. Donna is Isabel’s daughter (remember Isabel from Nannup?) and is a friend of a friend – you know the usual six degrees stuff. Anyway, Donna was off controlling the bushfire “up the road” at Jerramungup where it hasn’t rained for a while. Mark gave us the keys to the house and went straight back to work – when you’re the on-call fire officer you can’t be more than five minutes away from base, even in torrential rain.
After a good soak in the bath we managed to defrost and both felt human enough to have a nice sociable dinner with Mark. Donna arrived home late after some hard twenty hour days - the fire was out but she was stuffed.
Next morning, after a late start by all, Donna gave us the “full day tour” of the local “high” lights. And I really do mean ‘high’, or ‘tall’, ‘massive’, or all of the above. Walpole is the only area where the giant tingle trees grow, the third tallest hardwood in the world. Some of these trees grow for over four hundred years with their trunks well over twenty metres in circumference at the base. BIG! They’re so impressive that there is a local CALM attraction, appropriately called “The valley of the giants”.
Long steel trussed bridges span the valley so visitors can walk swaying among the treetops. This was a completely new forest perspective for us, and one we will always remember.
November 25 – Dairy bed and breakfast
Climbing the hill to leave Pemby certainly warmed us up for the short, picturesque ride to Northcliffe. The country was changing from deep forests to open dairy paddocks. Just as well, because tonight we were staying at a B and B at a dairy farm.
Alf, Yvonne and her son Michael run a small property about two kilometres off the main road – just long enough to get drenched by howling rain, which set in. Luckily Yvonne has a tumble dryer, big bath tub and huge wood fired heater for drying shoes and gloves. The TV weather report said two more days of solid rain – not the best forecast for cyclists, or for dairy farmers trying to bail hay!
November 23 – 24 - A country practice
The forests we rode through today were mainly jarrah, a tree that is prized for its beautiful, rich red coloured timber, and karri, second only to tingle in height and now selectively logged. The day’s temperature was in the 30’s but finished with light rain as we rode the two kilometre descent into the timber town of Pemberton.
We booked into the caravan park, dumped our gear and went to walk the main street to get some food for dinner. Sue and Simon, our cabin neighbours, immediately asked us over for drinks which eventually ended up as a fabulous late night dinner of pooled ingredients and talents. Sue was chef, Simon included wonderful scrambled eggs, Ann the always fantastic salad, leaving me with the easy task of making sure the glasses were well filled. Well someone has to do it!
Rain the next day didn’t stop us from checking out the local galleries and of course the local bakery but Ann couldn’t wait for today’s final commitment – a massage! It’s hard to beat a good massage, and Elle was fantastic! While we were chatting she suggested we say hello to the local doctor, a keen cyclist and fellow tandem rider. A quick walk around the block, and we were talking to Dr. Andrew (M.B,B.S.,AIT(W.A) Ph.D., Dip.R.A.C.O.G.)
He and Christine have done heaps of cycling including an organised cycle tour in France, watching some of the Tour and then riding Alp d’Huez. They did all 21 hairpin bends on the climb without stopping – and on a tandem!! What can we say – we couldn’t do it!
We continued trading cycling stories over the evening meal and as we were finishing Christine asked if we might like to stay at their house when in Albany. Andrew was doing a prosthetic/orthotic clinic at Albany Hospital the following Friday and he suggested I come along and have a look at what goes on. Naturally I accepted the offer and looked forward to meeting again on the Thursday night.
November 22 – Where’s that tiger?
We were now turning north east and today’s ride took us to Nannup, but only after we crested a number of “challenging” hills. The highway was narrow and at some places followed the early logging routes. We’d slowly climb a hill before speeding down the other side, cross a creek or “brook”, before starting the next climb. Gradually we were rising from sea level, but by late afternoon we rolled down the main street of Nannup, hot and thirsty. Where’s that beer?
We met our hosts, Jim and Isabel, and were immediately taken on a quick tour of the town. Most small towns have a statue or memorial relating to early settlers but Nannup has one for the Nannup tiger! Over west here they have the mainland cousin of the Tassie tiger.
Jim works for CALM (Conservation and Land Management) and one of his many jobs includes logging local tiger sightings. Another of Jim’s jobs is to document any newly discovered wild flowers (he’s been credited with finding a rare banksia ), so who better to take you on a forest discovery walk. We passed our “what tree is that?” exam so the reward was local fish ‘n chips cooked at Gordon’s shop accompanied by a wonderful local wine. Double yummy!!
November 20 – 21 – Turning the corner
We arrived in Augusta after a short, relaxing ride. The paddocks are green, giant jarrah trees grow beside the road, and small hand made signs advertise B&Bs up the next dirt road. Augusta is the most south westerly town in WA and a short ride further is Cape Leeuwin lighthouse. This is still a working lighthouse and looks out to sea where two oceans, the Great Southern and the Indian, meet.
If we were sailing around Australia, this is the point where we would turn the corner to head east. Many tourists arrived, tramped down to the edge of the rock shelf, took a photo of the crashing waves before hurrying back to the car. Well, we had a bite to eat, Ann took millions of photos, before we jumped back on Argo and rode back to the van park for more R&R.
Augusta is a tiny village where walking the main street might take all of five minutes, assuming one of the locals don’t say hello and engage you in a ten minute chat. Needless to say it took us a lot longer than five minutes. But like any haven, it doesn’t take long before developers realise the opportunities and things start to change, and not necessarily for the better. Enormous two storey houses are slowly replacing small fishing shacks and land prices have doubled in a year. Because of surrounding national parks, there isn’t any more land to be rezoned, so the small town feel is being lost.
November 18 – 19 – Cooling off down south
It was not so long ago that we were riding in such hot conditions that the plastic fittings on our pump melted. Now we’re struggling to stay warm as icy (head)winds blow in from Antarctica. When we were up north it was abnormally hot – they don’t normally hit temperatures in the mid forties until February – and now we are down south it is abnormally cold. In fact, yesterday was the coldest day here since 1901. So what can a couple of cyclists do except scrounge some extra blankets and sleep in them fully clothed? Not that we have much clothing – Ross even went to bed in his spray jacket.
Thanks to the weather I haven’t managed to shake my cold yet, but Ross’s is almost gone. I managed to make the short ride from Bunbury to Busselton but then spent the rest of the day asleep. 
Ross made the trip to the longest jetty in the southern hemisphere and also walked the main street.
Next day we rode to Margaret River, famous for the surrounding wineries. It was very tempting to stop at the vineyards, cheese factory and berry farm along the way, but we had a lunch date with the nursing home. We’d arrived in town on the first day of the wine festival, seven days of tasting wines and foods and accompanying activities. The town was busy, but it was interesting to see two subcultures walking the streets – surfies/backpackers on the one hand, and wine lovers on the other.