Day 4: Nundle - Glen Innes
8 August 2024
Pterodactyl needed to head home, so we parted company just
after 09:00 on the road out of Nundle. I headed north to Tamworth, the birthplace
of my wife and home to Australia's major country music festival. After refuelling,
I headed north towards Manilla not sure about exactly how I would head home.
North of Barraba I turned right on to a delightful road which took me northeast
in the direction of Inverell. I rode briskly enough through the countryside,
although were places where there was no fencing and cattle grazed close to the
roadside. At one moment, near a grid of the type that stops cattle and sheep
from crossing a line, a cow watched me carefully until it was sure I would
collect it if it walked in front of me. Then it walked across the road to find
the rest of the herd. It didn't count on the CB's front brakes and I managed to
stop in time.
After about 34 kilometres, the road turned to gravel. It
was too far to turn back and, anyway, the gravel was firm and I made good time.
Just over 15 kilometres later, the seal returned and I allowed myself a small smile.
Fool!
The fun lasted less than 2 kilometres.
The sign filled me with trepidation.
Courtesy Google Maps Street View. Here in Google Maps.
And rightly so, as it turned out. It wasn't too bad to
start with — not as good as the earlier gravel, but tolerable. Then I met a water
truck and things started to go downhill. The surface became sandier and more slippery.
Shortly afterwards I met a grader. I stopped to let it past and then wondered,
as the back wheel slid gently towards the edge of the road, whether I'd ever
get out again. As there was no way I was going to get across the mound of sand
the grader had left uphill from me, I was left with about two feet of road to
navigate on. I proceeded in first gear with both feet down for what felt like
half a lifetime.
Beyond where the grader had started, I met more a more solid
surface. Phew. That section of dirt lasted for just under 10 kilometres and
then it was back on the proper stuff.
Fuel and a late lunch in Inverell.
The day was clouding over and cooling. I had no chance of
making it comfortably to the coast, so I decided to stay in Glen Innes. It was
67 kilometres — less than an hour — so I decided to take a pretty back road to
Guyra that I'd ridden with Pterodactyl in 2019. Of course, I'd forgotten
exactly which way we'd gone and got the starting point wrong. Thirteen kilometres
later I was staring at more dirt.
Of course it was OK and the nine kilometres passed without
incident. It did make me realise the limitations of free GPS apps, though: they
have no data on gravel roads. I resolved two things: I don't want to ride on unknown
gravel as the condition around the next corner is unpredictable; and I'll take
a good paper map with me on future trips to try to plan around excursions on to
gravel.
Except for this strange structure at Tingha, the remainder of the trip was uneventful.
I passed a comfortable night at the Great Central Hotel in Glen Innes.
There was one incident. The hotel — like many I stay in — had shared bathroom facilities. Stripping off my riding gear, I wrapped a towel around my waist, grabbed my key, wandered down the hall and showered. Having dried myself, I donned my spectacles, picked up the key and realised it was my key. My key to the bike. Not the room key. There was nothing for it. I marched downstairs, proudly wearing nothing but my towel, and, having checked in all the well-populated rooms, found a quiet back bar where I was given another key to the room by a smiling landlady.
My wife thought it strange that I didn't take my clean clothes with me to the bathroom.
