Day 8 Point Samson to Fortesque River Bush Camp 162 kms

The scenery keeps changing even if it is subtle.

Jacquei loved the wide open spaces!

Watch those winds girls!

I woke to some man in a caravan muttering to himself about the noise that the cyclists are making walking around the camp. It is 0430 hrs and all I can hear are footsteps on the gravel- there is no talking, coughing or packing noises. Then the guy starts saying a little louder about the lights that the cyclists are shining in his annexe- they are wearing head torches. A couple of cars leave the park but he doesn’t seem to notice them, he is just concentrating on the cyclists but hiding in his annexe making his complaints but not loud enough that the cyclists will hear. I decide to climb out of the truck bed at about 0500 hrs and he has maintained a continual stream of complaints for the last half hour. He has opened & shut his annexe zip continually popping his head out every second zip. He spots me and starts to approach but changes his mind so I head off to the toilet. While I was gone he approached Fliss and started to complain but wouldn’t listen to her so she just walked off. When I came back he walks up in a very aggressive manner so I front him with my hands on my hips and ask if I can help him- he looks me up & down, mumbles something and walks off. Seems that is the end of his tirade. I was wrong, later while Collis gets in to move the van around to the kitchen the guy comes back and refuses to move out of the way of the van until Collis starts shooing him away the man slaps Collis twice & then Gayle starts to step in and he goes to approach her until Collis sends her away. Collis makes a parting comment that he should go and have a nanny nap before the man’s wife takes him down to the beach. Number plate was : ICDH 684

It was a long ride today with headwinds after lunch although these were probably the first lot of headwinds we have had so far. This just pulled the group closer supporting each other. Woody who usually rides on his own took on Tina to support her through the difficult parts & ensure she finishes the day (The oldest male & the youngest female).

Tonight is our first bush camp & we are camping by the Fortesque River. The river is full (or close to it) which is a pleasant surprise as all the photos I’ve seen of it on the internet shows it to be dry. Some complaints that the area was rocky and no where to put their tents but they soon organised themselves and camp was set. I had to cook again tonight and I made a chilli con carne for the normal eaters & a chilli con lentil for the vegetarian. I’m scared I won’t have enough food for the hungry hoards but again tonight I have catered to perfection with some leftovers. Apparently the Chilli con lentils was a bigger hit than the chilli con carne( go figure). Roger made damper for dessert but I hadn’t been able to get Gluten free wholemeal flour & he was disappointed in the results (everyone ate it).

                         

Gayle set her tent up originally very close to the river until we mentioned crocodiles & she quickly moved her tent further away from water & closer to other people. She spent a lot of time digging a trench around the tent as we had our first few drops of rain while I was peeling the vegetables. Then she proceeded to make a little stone pathway to the river so she wouldn’t get muddy while I was stirring the pot over the camp fire. Gayle finished just in time to sit down to my scrumptious dinner.

John & then Theo read us their recent poems & ballads written whilst on the trip. The following is Theo’s ballad:
No! No Bloody way Whim CreekEarly morning drivers, dazzled by the rising sun
Barely spot the lycred, spectral riders
Chasing longer shadows down the way
And a humid wind half- heartedly rebuked us
For our eagerness to find an open hearted,
More embracing welcome
In this state where mining dollars still hold sway.

Sped on from dour, unwelcoming South Hedland,
Burned and drained by a relentless sun
We were buoyed in spirit
By a foolish, optimistic vision,
Of an open- hearted welcome, and ice cold beer to end the daily mission.
But, not for us the open-hearted welcome,
“That’s for guests & not for tourists,
For our guests are miners and they richly pay their way.”

We reply that we are hot and ask them,
“Can we swim your cooling pool?”
“No! No bloody way, they chorus.
That’s for guests & not for such as you.
But come & have a beer or soft drink,
We’ll sell them to you at inflated prices
While you savour all the niceness
Of our tastefully re-labelled reading room.”
With names like “Dunnies, blokes & sheilas,
See, we’ve made you welcome
Now there’s no confusion when you need to go.
What! You needed paper?
That’s for guests and not such as you,
Just bring your bloody own.”

We plead, we’ve travelled far & hunger
Will you cook for us when feeding guests?
We’ll pay you well, We also pay our way.”
“No! No bloody way,” they chorus,
“Feed yourselves as best you can,
We’ve food for guests, not tourists,
But come & have a beer or soft drink,
We’ll sell them to you at inflated prices
While we contemplate some other, anti- tourist vices.”

Early morning riders missed the mournful sounds,
Of farewell chorus as we left the grounds
But in our fever pitched imagination
We formulated answers to their yet unspoken questions:
“Did we treat you well?” and
“Would you recommend us to your friends?”
No! No bloody way- we chorus
We’re tourists and we also pay our way.