The morning dawned fresh and clear in Balaranald, portending good riding weather.
After a good night’s sleep, we were kitted up and ready to look for breakfast very soon after 08:00. But first, a quick stop to peek into a window on the Main Street that we had observed on our stroll home from dinner the evening before. Have you ever seen a shop with an aircraft inside it? You have? Well, have you seen one containing two - and a few other things besides? Here in Balranald NSW there is a group of enthusiasts who would appear to be great admirers of Sir Charles Kingsford-Smith, the famous Australian who established quite a number of aviation records in the first half of the twentieth century. And here they have, for public viewing and admiration - and surely education - two replicas of his famous aircraft: Southern Cross and Lady Southern Cross. The museum opens at 10:00 and even though we have some time flexibility on this, a relatively short riding day, we decided it was not a priority for us. Breakfast was found at a café next to the town information centre and consumed with restrained gusto. We talked about high finance and how some CEO’s destroyed shareholder value on a large scale, some with relative impunity. Breakfast done, we set off for about 50 kms of bitumen before we hit the dirt. Said dirt was dry and hard-packed, making for very easy riding, aided by very long straight stretches and very gentle curves now and again. Our first photo stop was on the sealed road, but the prop, a rather old steam engine at the entrance to a station (not a farm) was too good to miss. There was almost no traffic, just a few large trucks throwing up immense clouds of dust. Generally speaking the dust did not trouble us as we were riding hundreds of metres apart. We did come across a road construction crew in the middle of nowhere, doing a lot of work. Would they be sealing it? We hope not! Greg was leading; and his eagle eye spotted items of interest off to the side; and now and again we would stop to inspect, for example, a dry dam scrape with exquisite, tiny flowers growing on the dry bed. As I was riding number two, I saw some of the things he saw, which the other two might, and sometimes did, miss. They missed the herd of emus; but we all marvelled at the wedge tail eagle soaring above. Looking up was something we did regularly, as the cloud formations were often very interesting and attractive. One I spotted was quite unusual, so I stopped the bike and pulled out my camera. See the result on the photos page. We approached a few houses or buildings which the cartographers have identified as Oxley. We turned north before we actually got there, and I swung into the lead, misunderstanding a gesture from Greg, who had turned around. I enjoy leading, so I led. I also led with the first stack of the ride. Tootling along very happily and, without warning, I hit a long patch of soft, deep sand. Seconds later I hit the ground, somehow leading with both my chest and left hip. I lay still for a few moments, and didn’t feel anything broken. I rolled onto my back and stood up at about the time Greg and the others arrived. They had stopped for a photo and wondered why I had taken off down the road. So much for sign language! My clutch cable was broken, as were both mirrors. My pannier frame (I hope it is just the pannier frame) is bent. The side stand is not swinging up freely. I discovered later the handle of my brush, in my toilet bag, in a soft pannier, also broke. I rested while Greg jerry-rigged my clutch with some soft wire. Steve pillioned me out to the sealed road and then took David back who rode my bike out. We had a snack for lunch (I am not a fan of scroggin) and decided to ride for Hay, some 90 kms away, where we would spend the night. I used the clutch only once on that journey, relying on the quick shift feature of the bike. Soon after starting on the long haul to Hay, a warning light flashed on my dashboard: my rear tyre pressure had fallen sharply. I thought I would watch it closely and, if it continued to fall, would make a decision about stopping to look into it. Fortunately, although the pressure did continue to decline, it was still within my margin of tolerance - but only just - by the time we got to Hay. Straight to a garage to find an air pump!. Then to the motel where I showered and after which I was kindly pillioned to the Hay Hospital by Steve to be checked out. Now, I have not been a guest of the public health system in decades. Things do not move quickly if they think you are likely to still be alive in an hour or two. They eventually looked at me and determined that I should be transferred to Griffith Bae Hospital for further examination and perhaps a chest scan. I immediately revolted against the idea, but was prevailed upon to be cautious. Having agreed at about 18:30 to go to Griffith, the ambos strolled in at 22:00 and put me in the back at 22:30 for the 90 minute drive to Griffith. A new nurse and a new doc. The nurse suggested she wanted to IV me in preparation for dye in my blood to which I said she should not come within five feet of me with anything that might threaten the integrity of my epidermis. She did not push the matter and the new doc pushed, prodded and poked me, ran an ECG (huh?) took my blood pressure multiple times and asked me lots of questions. Eventually he said "Why did they send you here?" Good question! He ordered X-rays of my chest just be be sure and at 02:00 came in and said I could go home. Fortunately for me they have overnight apartments and I was popped in there and left to my own devices until Liz arrived at about 15:30 to take me to Hay to fetch my stuff. The guys had in the meantime taken my bike to the repair shop to await recovery by my insurance company; and proceeded on the ride. I am still so very disappointed that I was out, but very grateful I was able to walk away from my stack. My thoughts have turned to a formal sand riding course and a return to this amazing, challenging countryside. I will post some photos from the guys over the next few days. But for now, my trip is over really before it got started. C'est la vie.
3 Comments
John B
21/4/2021 08:56:01
Hope you and the Bimmer have pulled up ok after a night’s rest. Lovely description of outback vistas before the sand trap. With a bit of luck and some bushy engineering you will hopefully soon be on the way again.
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David
7/6/2021 10:33:51
Sounds like some unwanted excitement. Sorry about the crash, glad your still good and upright.
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Lee
8/6/2021 21:58:17
So glad to hear U are OK:) sorry about the crash,
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AuthorDuncan & Liz are keen travellers, doing less than they would like but appreciating what opportunities present. Duncan loves his motorcycle and Liz loves it more at the end of a trip! Archives
June 2021
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