Christo
Tractor Pilot
Attention! There'll be a bit of coluorful language here, because that's how I express myself sometimes, if that's going to bother you, it's time to move along.
Brisbane, Bourke, Broken Hill and Back of beyond!
http://i283.photobucket.com/albums/kk319/Christo1960/PB020010.jpg
I've found myself a weeks holidays on the roster I told my wife, “what are ya going to do”? She asked.
Dunno, says I it's only a week...........
That was a couple of months ago and just this last week I've been having said holiday, several weeks of mostly late shifts and nights, had pretty much done me in, and the 4 nightshifts I did before my holiday began, had not been particularly uneventful, so by the time I finished at 7am last friday morning I was buggered, listless and unable to make informed decisions, still I had to take the daughter to work and do a few things around the house, and make dinner for the family, and most of this didn't end up happening when I had fallen asleep around midday sitting on my fat arse in front of the tele.
A phone call from Gen asking me to pick her up from work, meant that I only wasted 3 hours sleeping so that's something.
Saturday was a write off, my body clock was buggered, Sunday morning I awoke feeling like I had a hangover, a combination of still not having caught up on lost sleep, and a week of poor food choices............I'm sure it had nothing to do with the bottle of Mr Burge's fine Merlot I'd tossed back saturday night.
But, I was awake at about 6am, and whilst not feeling great, unable to sleep further, and by 10am, I thought blow this, I'm gonna end up wasting another week off!
I packed some supplies and my swag, and a few travelling odds and ends on the Strom, kissed my wife, told her I was heading out to Nindigully for a couple of days of riding and sitting around a fire with some mind expanding liquids, and off I took bearing west.
I made good time up the range and further west until I came to Goondiwindi, feeling like a feed I headed to the Caltex Roadhouse, fueled the bike and then set about obtaining the required sustenance for myself.
A quick word to the wise, for those that are used to city dining, when the waitress looks at ya funny and asks “are you sure?”, when you order 2 roast beef rolls, …...back off a little and say, “well maybe one will do for now”! Blow me down, the rolls were about 14 inches long and each one was full to overflowing with about ½ a cow! Plus Gravy, plus the pint of Iced coffee I got to go with it, and the suspension on the strom was left sagging under the added weight!
While I was struggling my way through a tenth of Australia's 2011 beef production, a trucky walked past and casually mentioned the big storm clouds rolling in from the west..............I looked off in the direction of Nindigully......(remember Nindigully?), and there seemingly right over the top of this place, was a mass of roiling green stormclouds, the type of green stormclouds that any Queenslander worth his salt understands contains volumes of hail, assorted nastiness, shovels rakes and implements off destruction.
My mind struggled to comprehend the impending necessity for a change of plans.......................
I had a look at the bom radar on my phone, and saw the impending doom descending on my intended destination, also saw it's twin devestating the area around Warialda, so I checked my maps and decided to shoot through between the 2 cells. Next Stop was to be Moree.......
.....................Goondi, Boggabilla past the Wobbly Boot, past Camurra and into Moree, in between the line of storms, got a bit wet even though I was in the clear, the winds coming from the sides, threatening to push me into trucks, so I had to move to the left of my lane every time I passed one.
My head wasn't in it, tired and troubled, I couldn't concentrate, it was hot, I hadn't drunk enough water, my arse ached from my first decent ride in weeks, as well as the straight roads giving no excuses for shifting about a bit.
I rode through the main street of Moree, unimpressed, it's a real nothing sort of town bisected by the Newell, lot's of aimless youths roaming about, very uninspiring, I sat down in the park, with a big bottle of water, had a smoke and waited for inspiration, just a germ, the kernel of an idea.........
Fuck it, didn't get one, I wasn't enjoying my ride, I'd been forced to change plans and direction, my head wasn't working and it was about an hour and a half away from getting dark, This'll do me for today!
Half formed and in the back of my mind was the idea I'd originally had when booking my week off, that I'd like to go and see Bazz in particular Lee in Broken hill, there'd been a few PM's on the forum between Bazz and I, and I'd pretty much said I was coming, then I had a thought that maybe it wasn't a convenient time and I sent him a PM to make those enquiries, he sent me a message back to say that Lee would probably be in Adelaide, and that was where we left it.
I found the Mehi River Caravan park, and decided to get a donga instead of laying out in the swag, with all the aforementioned disaffected youth hanging around town, unpacked the bike and emptied the top box, and headed into town.
Came back about ½ an hour later with a couple of stubbies a packet of chips and a cherry ripe, that was gonna be enough after the feast of cow earlier in the day, and besides I reasoned, I had my camping supplies if I wanted something more substantial.
I popped the unladen Strom up on the centre stand and gave the chain a very liberal spray of lube. Have I mentioned the chain yet?
I knew then chain was getting a bit long (pun) in the tooth, but had reasoned that it should get me out to Nindigully for a couple of days and back, without too much trouble, the extra miles I'd travelled were probably stretching (pun again) my confidence, I'd tightened it the day before, and lubed it and with the extra lube, it didn't seem to need any further attention. We'll see how that goes....
Logging onto the net with my travelling netbook, I had a bit of a facebook chat with olbitz, and then headed over to AKRON, to see if anyone was pining for me.
Having a look at my spotwalla thread, it looked like Bazz, and a few others were sure I was heading towards Broken Hill, a germ of an idea..........a recommitment.......a destination!
Still unsure of my mental capacity to make decisions, and the state of the bike, I hedged and said what amounted to nothing.......
I couldn't get to sleep, don't know whether it was the chain, or my lack of mental capacity, or whatever, but it was hard to nod off, and I slept fitfully and Bazz and Lee were on my mind, and at this stage I was still convinced that Lee was in Adelaide for chemo, not recalling that Bazz had told me that she was found to not be a candidate.
I decided I was in a bit of a state, I'm in a bit of a state again while I'm writing all this, the black dog has been snapping at my heels for a while, and I keep turning my back, he's still there though.
1a.m. The following morning I gave up, got the 2nd stubby out of the fridge and sat on the porch of the donga, staring into the dark and had a few smokes and drank my beer.
I made the decision while I was doing that, that I would push on to Cobar the next day, and see how I went from there, at least it was still closeish for a mad dash back to the relative safety of Queensland, but also in easy striking distance of Broken Hill.
Back to bed a few hours sleep seemed to do me some good and I awoke before the alarm at 5:45 NSW time, (which would have been 4:45 QLD time, what is it with me and the hour of “stupid o'clock”?
Since making my plans at 1am I was starting to feel a bit more human, and packing up the bike I'd decided I was going to relax and enjoy the ride and just not give a shit about anything else for a while, fuck it, I'm on holidays, I'm on 2 wheels, and my time is my fucken own.
I left Moree, shithole that it is, with more of a spring in my step, than when I'd arrived.
I'd been given a heads up over the phone from Olbitz that the FarTag was at Collarenabri, so that was to be my next stop.
Was a reasonably early start on my second day left the caravan park at 0730, an up and go stashed in the topbox for when I felt like breaking my fast I took off down the Gwydir highway, once out of town it turns into 110klm zones, and away I went, the weather was fresh, the sort of fresh spring day I remember from when I was young, and as the country opened up outside of Moree, you could start to see the sky, I'm not talking that thin sliver of blue that we get on the coast we're looking at big sky country here, where the blue takes up most of the view and the air looks like it's been scrubbed clean, my heart felt cleaner just looking at it and the riding was becoming easier.
A couple of Emus looked up as I rode past, and the smell of roadkill both fresh and fragrant started to assail my nose on the bends. Grasses and blooms everywhere, this was not the Collarenabri I remembered from a years back, should be yellow and dun coloured, instead there was greens and purples, and buttercup yellows. My country looks like it has a new life after all these years, maybe there's hope for me yet.
The fresh temperature, the easy riding, the sights and smells started to lift my spirit, so much that I forgot my mission in Collie, and after fueling up and a downing my banana up and go, and having a smoke, at the very place I should have taken a picture for the FarTag, I insinuated myself the short distance out of town and started the rhythm again, this was where I was meant to be, right there, right then.
From Collie onto Walgett, and not needing fuel or comfort stops, or the conversation of mortals, I wafted straight through town and kept going, back to 110 on the GPS, back to the rhythm, comfort in the practices of 30 odd years, digging the moments.
The site of 2 Emus at full tilt next to the road on the other side, brought me into the here and now, because here were a couple of V8 chooks, and now they were looking like doing something stupid!
I started to slow, and they came further towards my side of the road, doing 50 now and still coming up on them, one decided to veer away from my side both of them still running the same direction, I slowed further, doing 30 now the one went across my future path, and for moments he was running along side me, keeping pace and looking back over his wing directly at meas I kept slowing, I had a vision of some bloke walking down the road looking backwards at a good looking shiela, and smacking the side of his head into a pole, and I actually chuckled, until that was strangled in my throat as the idiot bird decided to throw himself back in front of me, in an effort to rejoin his mate on the other side of the road, I hit the picks. He got aound me, and shot me a look that said I win! Well ya can have that one, ya big stupid emblem of our land!
Soon after, Brewarrina filled my Visor, another uninviting town, another mob of disaffected youth, this time kicking a football back and forth across the highway in front of the pub, a well aimed kick landed in the middle of my lane, just before I was to be in that same physical space, and I need to swerve to avoid it, I heard a low growl from several of the youths, and just rode straight on, I get the impression, that they don't like us, and they don't even know me, and if they did know me I'm sure I would be nothing but fair and friendly to them, but they'll never know that, because they've decided that we're all the same, the same as we've decided about them, my previously pleasant mojo, began to darken. I hate generalisers. Just past town was a place to pull up, and asingle tree provided shade, which although the weather was still pleasantly cool, would save my face, which had already started to sunburn.
That made me think of my Paternal grandmother, she of swarthy skin and dark hair, and equally dark temper, her little button nose flaring at the nostrils when she chased ya with the broom, how back then we were told that she came from Gypsy stock, but it was whispered, that she'd been born with more than a lick of the tarbrush! Another family secret destined to remain so, like the Picaninni half siblings in PNG, fathered by my father after he left us.
A couple of ants at my feet, tugged for control of something that both felt a perfectly legitimate right to control, and got nowhere.
I drained the last of my water from the bottle, repacked it in my pannier, nipped the end off my cigarette, and mounted the bike, to continue the journey to Bourke.
Brisbane, Bourke, Broken Hill and Back of beyond!
http://i283.photobucket.com/albums/kk319/Christo1960/PB020010.jpg
I've found myself a weeks holidays on the roster I told my wife, “what are ya going to do”? She asked.
Dunno, says I it's only a week...........
That was a couple of months ago and just this last week I've been having said holiday, several weeks of mostly late shifts and nights, had pretty much done me in, and the 4 nightshifts I did before my holiday began, had not been particularly uneventful, so by the time I finished at 7am last friday morning I was buggered, listless and unable to make informed decisions, still I had to take the daughter to work and do a few things around the house, and make dinner for the family, and most of this didn't end up happening when I had fallen asleep around midday sitting on my fat arse in front of the tele.
A phone call from Gen asking me to pick her up from work, meant that I only wasted 3 hours sleeping so that's something.
Saturday was a write off, my body clock was buggered, Sunday morning I awoke feeling like I had a hangover, a combination of still not having caught up on lost sleep, and a week of poor food choices............I'm sure it had nothing to do with the bottle of Mr Burge's fine Merlot I'd tossed back saturday night.
But, I was awake at about 6am, and whilst not feeling great, unable to sleep further, and by 10am, I thought blow this, I'm gonna end up wasting another week off!
I packed some supplies and my swag, and a few travelling odds and ends on the Strom, kissed my wife, told her I was heading out to Nindigully for a couple of days of riding and sitting around a fire with some mind expanding liquids, and off I took bearing west.
I made good time up the range and further west until I came to Goondiwindi, feeling like a feed I headed to the Caltex Roadhouse, fueled the bike and then set about obtaining the required sustenance for myself.
A quick word to the wise, for those that are used to city dining, when the waitress looks at ya funny and asks “are you sure?”, when you order 2 roast beef rolls, …...back off a little and say, “well maybe one will do for now”! Blow me down, the rolls were about 14 inches long and each one was full to overflowing with about ½ a cow! Plus Gravy, plus the pint of Iced coffee I got to go with it, and the suspension on the strom was left sagging under the added weight!
While I was struggling my way through a tenth of Australia's 2011 beef production, a trucky walked past and casually mentioned the big storm clouds rolling in from the west..............I looked off in the direction of Nindigully......(remember Nindigully?), and there seemingly right over the top of this place, was a mass of roiling green stormclouds, the type of green stormclouds that any Queenslander worth his salt understands contains volumes of hail, assorted nastiness, shovels rakes and implements off destruction.
My mind struggled to comprehend the impending necessity for a change of plans.......................
I had a look at the bom radar on my phone, and saw the impending doom descending on my intended destination, also saw it's twin devestating the area around Warialda, so I checked my maps and decided to shoot through between the 2 cells. Next Stop was to be Moree.......
.....................Goondi, Boggabilla past the Wobbly Boot, past Camurra and into Moree, in between the line of storms, got a bit wet even though I was in the clear, the winds coming from the sides, threatening to push me into trucks, so I had to move to the left of my lane every time I passed one.
My head wasn't in it, tired and troubled, I couldn't concentrate, it was hot, I hadn't drunk enough water, my arse ached from my first decent ride in weeks, as well as the straight roads giving no excuses for shifting about a bit.
I rode through the main street of Moree, unimpressed, it's a real nothing sort of town bisected by the Newell, lot's of aimless youths roaming about, very uninspiring, I sat down in the park, with a big bottle of water, had a smoke and waited for inspiration, just a germ, the kernel of an idea.........
Fuck it, didn't get one, I wasn't enjoying my ride, I'd been forced to change plans and direction, my head wasn't working and it was about an hour and a half away from getting dark, This'll do me for today!
Half formed and in the back of my mind was the idea I'd originally had when booking my week off, that I'd like to go and see Bazz in particular Lee in Broken hill, there'd been a few PM's on the forum between Bazz and I, and I'd pretty much said I was coming, then I had a thought that maybe it wasn't a convenient time and I sent him a PM to make those enquiries, he sent me a message back to say that Lee would probably be in Adelaide, and that was where we left it.
I found the Mehi River Caravan park, and decided to get a donga instead of laying out in the swag, with all the aforementioned disaffected youth hanging around town, unpacked the bike and emptied the top box, and headed into town.
Came back about ½ an hour later with a couple of stubbies a packet of chips and a cherry ripe, that was gonna be enough after the feast of cow earlier in the day, and besides I reasoned, I had my camping supplies if I wanted something more substantial.
I popped the unladen Strom up on the centre stand and gave the chain a very liberal spray of lube. Have I mentioned the chain yet?
I knew then chain was getting a bit long (pun) in the tooth, but had reasoned that it should get me out to Nindigully for a couple of days and back, without too much trouble, the extra miles I'd travelled were probably stretching (pun again) my confidence, I'd tightened it the day before, and lubed it and with the extra lube, it didn't seem to need any further attention. We'll see how that goes....
Logging onto the net with my travelling netbook, I had a bit of a facebook chat with olbitz, and then headed over to AKRON, to see if anyone was pining for me.
Having a look at my spotwalla thread, it looked like Bazz, and a few others were sure I was heading towards Broken Hill, a germ of an idea..........a recommitment.......a destination!
Still unsure of my mental capacity to make decisions, and the state of the bike, I hedged and said what amounted to nothing.......
I couldn't get to sleep, don't know whether it was the chain, or my lack of mental capacity, or whatever, but it was hard to nod off, and I slept fitfully and Bazz and Lee were on my mind, and at this stage I was still convinced that Lee was in Adelaide for chemo, not recalling that Bazz had told me that she was found to not be a candidate.
I decided I was in a bit of a state, I'm in a bit of a state again while I'm writing all this, the black dog has been snapping at my heels for a while, and I keep turning my back, he's still there though.
1a.m. The following morning I gave up, got the 2nd stubby out of the fridge and sat on the porch of the donga, staring into the dark and had a few smokes and drank my beer.
I made the decision while I was doing that, that I would push on to Cobar the next day, and see how I went from there, at least it was still closeish for a mad dash back to the relative safety of Queensland, but also in easy striking distance of Broken Hill.
Back to bed a few hours sleep seemed to do me some good and I awoke before the alarm at 5:45 NSW time, (which would have been 4:45 QLD time, what is it with me and the hour of “stupid o'clock”?
Since making my plans at 1am I was starting to feel a bit more human, and packing up the bike I'd decided I was going to relax and enjoy the ride and just not give a shit about anything else for a while, fuck it, I'm on holidays, I'm on 2 wheels, and my time is my fucken own.
I left Moree, shithole that it is, with more of a spring in my step, than when I'd arrived.
I'd been given a heads up over the phone from Olbitz that the FarTag was at Collarenabri, so that was to be my next stop.
Was a reasonably early start on my second day left the caravan park at 0730, an up and go stashed in the topbox for when I felt like breaking my fast I took off down the Gwydir highway, once out of town it turns into 110klm zones, and away I went, the weather was fresh, the sort of fresh spring day I remember from when I was young, and as the country opened up outside of Moree, you could start to see the sky, I'm not talking that thin sliver of blue that we get on the coast we're looking at big sky country here, where the blue takes up most of the view and the air looks like it's been scrubbed clean, my heart felt cleaner just looking at it and the riding was becoming easier.
A couple of Emus looked up as I rode past, and the smell of roadkill both fresh and fragrant started to assail my nose on the bends. Grasses and blooms everywhere, this was not the Collarenabri I remembered from a years back, should be yellow and dun coloured, instead there was greens and purples, and buttercup yellows. My country looks like it has a new life after all these years, maybe there's hope for me yet.
The fresh temperature, the easy riding, the sights and smells started to lift my spirit, so much that I forgot my mission in Collie, and after fueling up and a downing my banana up and go, and having a smoke, at the very place I should have taken a picture for the FarTag, I insinuated myself the short distance out of town and started the rhythm again, this was where I was meant to be, right there, right then.
From Collie onto Walgett, and not needing fuel or comfort stops, or the conversation of mortals, I wafted straight through town and kept going, back to 110 on the GPS, back to the rhythm, comfort in the practices of 30 odd years, digging the moments.
The site of 2 Emus at full tilt next to the road on the other side, brought me into the here and now, because here were a couple of V8 chooks, and now they were looking like doing something stupid!
I started to slow, and they came further towards my side of the road, doing 50 now and still coming up on them, one decided to veer away from my side both of them still running the same direction, I slowed further, doing 30 now the one went across my future path, and for moments he was running along side me, keeping pace and looking back over his wing directly at meas I kept slowing, I had a vision of some bloke walking down the road looking backwards at a good looking shiela, and smacking the side of his head into a pole, and I actually chuckled, until that was strangled in my throat as the idiot bird decided to throw himself back in front of me, in an effort to rejoin his mate on the other side of the road, I hit the picks. He got aound me, and shot me a look that said I win! Well ya can have that one, ya big stupid emblem of our land!
Soon after, Brewarrina filled my Visor, another uninviting town, another mob of disaffected youth, this time kicking a football back and forth across the highway in front of the pub, a well aimed kick landed in the middle of my lane, just before I was to be in that same physical space, and I need to swerve to avoid it, I heard a low growl from several of the youths, and just rode straight on, I get the impression, that they don't like us, and they don't even know me, and if they did know me I'm sure I would be nothing but fair and friendly to them, but they'll never know that, because they've decided that we're all the same, the same as we've decided about them, my previously pleasant mojo, began to darken. I hate generalisers. Just past town was a place to pull up, and asingle tree provided shade, which although the weather was still pleasantly cool, would save my face, which had already started to sunburn.
That made me think of my Paternal grandmother, she of swarthy skin and dark hair, and equally dark temper, her little button nose flaring at the nostrils when she chased ya with the broom, how back then we were told that she came from Gypsy stock, but it was whispered, that she'd been born with more than a lick of the tarbrush! Another family secret destined to remain so, like the Picaninni half siblings in PNG, fathered by my father after he left us.
A couple of ants at my feet, tugged for control of something that both felt a perfectly legitimate right to control, and got nowhere.
I drained the last of my water from the bottle, repacked it in my pannier, nipped the end off my cigarette, and mounted the bike, to continue the journey to Bourke.
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