Back in the saddle

Back in the saddle...

It's been an interesting few months here in Kurri Kurri. I've met loads of good, interesting people. However, the time has come again when I should be spinning those wheels. So it's back in the saddle, panniers full, tent repaired and bike with new components, destination 'Townsville'.

Because I have to work as I go, it will take me about two (plus) months to get there. Yes I have worked while I was in Kurri Kurri, but the earnings and consistency of work did not match up to my expectations. In the twenty weeks I have been here, I have earned just over A$6400. Check Expenditure

Yes, I know, I have supposed to be on a tight budget. If you look at the figures, you will see that, I didn't allow myself too much spending money through the week. $80 Australian dollars equates to only about £30 and about $45 dollars US. Not what you would call extravagant. I felt that after ten thousand kilometres, I needed to replace the major components on the bike (Chain rings, rear Cassette, Chain), and as I am nearing the Asian leg of the journey, I had a new wheel with an internal hub dynamo fitted. The plan is to use the dynamo to charge a twelve volt battery and use the twelve volt battery to charge my computer, Walkman and mobile phone. I also bought a new pair of cycling shoes and a new pair of cycling shorts (the others were a bit thin 'see through' ). This is not written here to justify my spending, it is more for information. It highlights the hidden costs that one comes across on such an expedition.

I bought myself an HP Jordana 720, a small handheld computer that will enable me to update this site on a regular (weekly) basis. I bought it on one of the Internet auction sites for almost half the retail price, a bargain I thought. It has proved so far, to be an excellent asset.

And so, moving forward, the road ahead. July has just begun, we are in the middle of the Australian winter, and yes it does get cold here. Just the other morning I woke up to the chilly dawn, on looking out the window, I was shocked to see a frost on the ground. That got me thinking, was it wise to start another two thousand kilometre camping expedition - on a bike? Scary! But then the sun began to rise, it's warm glow melting the icy crystals. Yes, it was time to move on.

Kurri Kurri and the Hunter valley has been a wonderful stop for me but after almost six months, I wondered if my legs would once again take the strain. Every time I looked at the bike, my legs begin to shake and my knees get sore. Psychosomatic I tell myself and switch into determination mode and, I'm off...

Another town, another adventure. I arrived in Kurri Kurri with a big deficit in the bank, Chris had paid for most of my trip to Sydney. I am now leaving six months later with a whopping $422 in my pocket. How far will I get this time?

Debs drove me to the station, after I stripped my bike down to fit it in a box, we went for a farewell beer. Somewhat tearful, Debs smiled and asked what I was having, "A Toohey's New, I'll get it" I said. We had a couple of silent beers, hardly a word spoken. The mood was very sombre, I went for another beer, the guy behind the bar tossed a coin and exclaimed "One free beer" he tossed the coin again, "two free beers". I liked this pub.

At six thirty, we strolled into Maitland town, I wanted to make sure I had some cash in my pocket, we walked silently. The night air was cool but refreshing, not cold like it had been over the past few weeks( -7). I felt very unsure about this leg of the journey, not just from a money point of view but also from a health point. The past few months have been a bit hectic admittedly, too much of the good life. Too much wine and song. But that aside, inside I didn't feel healthy, I was too tired, too sore, my whole body ached in the morning and collapsed at night. I was concerned that my ailments were brought on more from stress through the lack of finances and a weakend kidney function, than my over indulgence. There was know way of checking, I had to move on, I would find out soon enough.

Sitting in the bar silently sipping on our beers, I couldn't help but smile as Bob Marley came on the jukebox singing - "No woman no cry" . Debs face went red, her eyes glazed, I quickly gave her a reassuring touch on the arm. I'm not one for emotional goodbye's - I hate goodbye's, yet it seems to be what this trip is about. Very big hello's and sad goodbye's.

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Thursday 18th July 2002 - Destination Nambour - Distance Cycled 66km

Arrived in Brisbane at 7:30am, the train was an hour late. Not that it affected me in any way, I still had to re-build the bike. Putting the bike together was a lot easier or 'was I more organised?' than the first time I done it at New Zealand airport. I took my time, there was no rush and besides, I didn't have a clue where I was going. While waiting for the baggage, I wandered into the station to find an information desk, I didn't find one. Instead I asked a guard which was the best way north. He said I was mad and that I should pay my $4.90 to get out of the city by train. That's what I did, I took the train to Caboolture. The train wasn't busy but there was nowhere for me to put my bike, I had to stand holding it for an hour while the train stopped at every station. The city became suburb, became open paddocks and smallville, I was back on the road.

The fresh country air helped me feel relaxed, the tension beginning to ease. I hadn't turned a wheel for six months, what was I playing at ? For the past few weeks my muscles, knees and bones ached every time I thought about the impending challenge. You know the saying "How time fly's when you are having fun". I had a great time and yes, it didn't really register that I had been in Kurri Kurri for six months until I was updating my website. This is not how things were supposed to work, the plan was to stop for two months maximum, update my site get whatever gear I needed and hit the road while I was still feeling fit. But no, I hung around chasing dollars that weren't there. I am now back on the road but after only fifty or so kilometres, I was in agony, my legs were killing me and I felt totally exhausted.

I was almost ready to call it a day when Chris a retired teacher came up beside me on his bike. He enthused me with his energy and the excitement in his voice. He originally came from Aberdeenshire in Scotland but had moved over here twenty years ago. A keen cyclist he has covered a lot of Australia, UK and New Zealand. He explained that when one of his friends died some years ago, he realised that it could be his turn at any time. He took early retirement and took up cycling.

With the wind behind us, as it had been all day, we sailed along at a comfortable twenty four kilometres an hour. My calf muscles were beginning to cramp, I pushed on keeping up with Chris for another few kilometres before pulling in for a rest. My excuse was that it was easier to chat while sitting down.

After leaving Chris who was turning of and heading for home a couple of kilometres up the road. I, none to excitedly pedalled on towards Nambour, arriving at my destination at four o'clock. I had covered sixty six kilometres and was sore. But for my first day back in the saddle and after travelling on trains for the past thirteen hours, I guess I should be content.

Friday 19th July 2002 - Destination Gympie- Distance Cycled 77km

The day started sluggish, in fact it stayed very sluggish. I just couldn't seem to get my self motivated, I didn't have the energy. I checked back my notes from when I started this trip, the past six months has set me back almost two years. I was back at square one, my legs needed re-tuning, my diet and my whole body needed some serious attention, I was knackered. The Bruce Highway rolled along with gentle climbs and equal descents but I just couldn't hack it. On one particular climb of a couple of kilometres, I had to stop six times for a breather, I was only managing a few hundred metres at a time. Even on the flat I had to change down gears and crawl along at an agonising paced.

That said, the day finished a bit shorter on distance than I hoped for but with a reasonable average speed of just under nineteen kilometres an hour - bring on the down hills. I guess I shall just have to take it easy and build my strength again.

Saturday 20th July 2002 - Day off

I awoke this morning to the pitter patter sound of rain on the tent, I turned over and went back to sleep, it was six thirty. Around eight thirty I emerged from my cramped wee tent, the rain had stopped but the tent was soaking. I stood looking at the sky for a while, the thick clouds heavy with moisture. In my head I argued that I had only covered one hundred and forty three kilometres, I should be pushing on. Then reason joined the argument, I have cycled quite heavy terrain for two days and , I hadn't been on the bike for six months. No need to feel quilty, there is still another twelve hundred kilometres to cover before I reach Townsville. I took the day off.

I had visited Gympie once before in 1988 but I couldn't even recognise the road into town, the place is a lot larger than I can remember. In fact it has been interesting to see the amount of expansion there is, even in rural Australia. I drove this road in 88 while on another around the world trip, back then I travelled in style, I bought an old camper van. Taking a similar route I followed the fruit picking trail for nine months.

Heading up the Bruce Highway, I passed many pineapple and Macadamia plantations. I guess I could stop and work for a week to earn some more money but now that I am on the bike, I would rather keep going until I get my fitness back. The plan is to cycle another couple of hundred kilometres to Childers and check out the work situation there. If I get work I will stay for two weeks maximum before heading further north. I may stop again for another week or so. My reasoning here is, that I can't afford to take any more long periods from cycling, therefor each work break will only be for two weeks maximum. The two week deadline will also prevent me from getting too comfortable socially, I should then be able to build my kitty. Ha Ha...

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Sunday 21st July 2002 - Destination Maryborough - Distance Cycled 85km

I awoke this morning to the heaviest dew I have ever witnessed. Everything was soaked, with the trees dripping water onto the tent. Before I got out of the tent I thought I was going to have another rainy start to the day. Not so, there was a heavy fog which saturated everything, and, it was cold. At six thirty I packed my wet tent and loaded the bike, put on my jumper, cycling jacket and a pair of gloves, it was freezing.

By seven thirty, I was cycling quietly past the campsite offices and heading north towards Maryborough, the icy mist chilling me to the bone. Luckily for me I had a down hill start but from then on the road bounced up and down like an excited kangaroo. This cycling lark was proving tough 'again'. I settled my rhythm to five kilometres then a five minute rest, on some of the hills, which weren't too steep, I had to stop a couple of times. Was I getting tired so easy because of illness, or was it simply because I wasn't fit. I had this internal struggle going on, was I eating the right food, was I drinking enough water and do I really still believe that I can cycle around the world. I wasn't too sure but I told myself to be positive, that I was just back to square one after my wee sojourn in Kurri Kurri. I would be back on form in a couple of weeks, just keep going.

By twelve thirty I had covered sixty kilometres, I had also stopped for half an hour for breakfast at one of the many rest areas. While sitting having my sandwiches on Peanut Butter and Honey, I couldn't help but notice how easily Queenslanders could ignore each other. At the stop, besides myself there were five or six other couples sitting at tables munching away and having the usual irrelevant conversations. Oh, this is a nice rest area, look there's a tree over there. Not one of them looked up to acknowledge the others around them. Even when I went to the loo or to fill my water bottles the ones I passed turned the other way or looked at the ground - STRANGE!.

After Tiaro, about twenty four kilometres from Maryborough, the road seemed to level off a bit, still with an up and down swell, like a boat bobbing up and down in the harbour. I seemed to be going at a more consistent speed, never the less, I must have been getting weary, for the next couple of hours I only managed another twenty five kilometres, I stopped at the first campsite I came to just outside Maryborough. Reluctantly, again I paid for a small piece of grass for my tent. I told myself that, until I get fitter I should at least make sure I had a hot shower and a comfortable sleep. What hog wash, the shower yes, but comfortable sleep, I'm in a tent it doesn't matter where I put it, if the ground is reasonably flat, I will sleep sound. I am paying fifteen dollars a night for a shower!

The campsite wasn't too bad, there was a kitchen with both gas and wood stoves, plenty of tables and chairs, and a 24/7 camp fire. The problems come in when you mix the facilities with a ninety percent permanent residency, most of whom are on the dole. Several alcoholics who liked to sit by the open fire "to keep it going" drinking stubbies and shouting abuse at each other. One disgruntled resident came scrambling to the fire as I was cooking my veg curry and rice. I can't repeat the words that came out of his mouth 'complaint of too much bad language on my website' but suffice to say that he wasn't too happy because Kev - another inebriated resident - complained about his dog being off it's lead. I thought we were about to have an all out war between the drunks and the dole bludgers. Luckily the guy with the dog left still threatening to punch Kev's lights out. About half an hour later he was back cracking the neck of a stubby by the fire, they were all friends, it was just an act for the over nighters - myself and two others.

Monday 22nd July 2002 - Destination Childers (to find work) - Cycling Distance 69km

Spoke too soon, the swell on the bitumen river was over powering. I left the happy campsite early, the air still cold and wet, the highway already thundering. I thought about going into Maryborough to see if I recognised any of the sites from my last visit, but I quickly changed my mind. There was a very small incline as I left the campsite and my legs already felt week, as before, at the start of this journey, I told my self to ride through the pain barrier. I pushed on passed Maryborough still heading uphill towards Childers, only sixty odd kilometres away. After three kilometres I had to stop for a breather and to take a couple of layers off.

It was getting warm as the sun peaked over the trees but I wasn't getting into much of a rhythm, I wasn't even managing my five kilometres before I had to stop. Yes the road was bouncing quite a bit but I just couldn't find the energy to take the challenge. Even though my average hourly speed matched the past few days, I was knackered, I was only gaining my average speed on the down hills that followed every up hill. Each up hill slowed me to around eight kilometres an hour. With having to stop so often it took me six hours to cover the sixty eight kilometres and I admit it, with only three kilometres to go I had to get off the bike and push it up the last hill.

I booked into the 'Sugar Bowl Caravan Park' the new backpacker residence, a tent site was ten dollars, a cabin thirty eight dollars and a shared room (one other) with tv, fridge, comfortable bed and a fully fitted kitchen for only sixteen dollars. Now that's value - they even organise work for you.

The site it's self was very well organised, as you drive, or in my case cycle into the park there is the usual array of cabins and caravans. Driving around to the back of the park, the view opens out onto a magnificent vista. The bunk houses are at the foot of a small embankment, three rows of nine single story rooms with two or three beds and one row of nine self contained toilet and shower rooms. Each of the rooms with their double sliding doors look out onto the open countryside. The moon rose from the left as the sun set to the right.

Tuesday 23rd July 2002- Day off

John my room mate was off work following an accident while picking zucchinis, he got run over by the tractor trailer. Luckily the trailer was empty. Otherwise it could have been very serious, however, a bruised knee and a sprained ankle was enough to get him two weeks off work with pay.

We walked the kilometre or so into town, the red clay soil causing everything, clothes, cars, feet and shoes etc to turn a bright rust colour. The rust colour was a great contrast to the green of the local flora and fauna. Childers was a bright cheery town, the locals all smiling and saying hello as you passed them. In the post office the staff were more than just pleasant, they were happy at their work and couldn't do enough to ensure that you were looked after. The whole town had an aura about it. Childers was also the scene of a devastating tragedy just two years ago. The backpackers hostel in the main street was burned down by a disgruntled local. He is now in prison but not before killing fifteen of the hostels residents. The guy even went into the hostel on the night of the fire and told people they should get out, that he was going to burn the place. Naturally everyone thought he was just a quack and took no notice of him.

The hostel is now being restored but meanwhile the backpackers has moved to the caravan park where Barry and Sue are doing nicely. They give you accommodation at one hundred and ten dollars a week and organise work for you. However, this was not the case for me, firstly, they wanted to see my passport to confirm my eligibility to work, not so good for me.

After being in town Sue came to me and said that if I wanted to work tomorrow, I should come up to the house at six thirty to see Barry. I said ok, I'll see you then. At six thirty I went up to the house and knocked on the glass door, Barry was sitting at the breakfast bar watching something on TV. He didn't even look at me, he waved a hand as if to say, oh, yeah in a minute. Then Sue came to the door and ordered me to sit down, Barry would be with me in a minute, he still has to phone the grower. Fine I thought, then wandered about looking at the plants in the garden. Sue came back a few minutes later and asked if I had my forms 'in a very authoritarian voice', I said no, I left them on my bed, "Well, go and get them, I'll meet you back here in ten minutes". I just didn't liked the attitude. I turned away and decided that no, I wouldn't be back, I couldn't work with or for someone with an attitude that looks down the nose at you.

Here's a good one for you: The Queensland government has just introduced anew law which makes it illegal to sit at the bar while you are eating a counter/bar meal and, it is no longer permissible to smoke while you are eating, whether you like it or not.

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Wednesday 24th July 2002 - Day off

A relaxing day checking emails and drinking coffee. Sue one of the campsite owners, didn't even bother to ask why I didn't go back to the house last night.

I'm getting a bit desperate, I need to get some work or raise some money, some how! It's getting to the stage where I can't see me getting off this island, it's not just that, I don't seem to be getting very far and I'm getting tired.

Nine thirty, time to get those wheels turning, I pointed the bike north, I was going to Bundaberg. It was already warm and I, for the first time since starting this leg of the journey, was feeling fit. Easily and to my surprise, especially since I had told Joanna, Chris and Debs that I didn't think I had the energy to go on, that I was ready to give up, I got the bike moving at twenty five kilometres an hour. My mind was spinning, I was on a high, I had expected my legs to get tired as I approached each hill, It didn't happen. For almost sixty kilometres I pounded those pedals, I passed ten kilometres and hadn't needed or bothered to stop for a break. At fifteen kilometres I stopped, not because I needed to but because I thought I should, I stopped for a couple of minutes drinking water, before re-mounting. My next stop was at the thirty five kilometre mark, I had a couple of cheese sandwiches and my last stop just ten kilometres from my destination. My average speed when I reached the information office was over twenty kilometres an hour.

I found accommodation, choosing the cheapest in town at fifteen dollars to share a room with two others. Unfortunately it was not a recruitment backpacker and you can't get work from the backpackers unless you have a room at that backpackers. As soon as I dropped my bags into the room and stopped running around, the adrenaline also stopped and all I wanted to do was sleep, I fought the urge and went for a walk. Too many pains to be lying down for a snooze.

For the past few days I have had a sharp pain between my shoulder blades, it feels like a trapped nerve. My Hernia is also causing me some discomfort, it seems huge, that could just be due to the extra weight I am carrying following my days in Kurri Kurri. The main concern is the pain in my back, it's only there after I have been in bed for a while. At first I thought it was the base of my spine but it isn't, it seems to be my lower back. Maybe through the night I dehydrate so much that my kidney gets sore, or is it that during the evening while most of your other body functions are on shut down or go slow, the kidney does all its work? I don't know, but I do know the pain, I also know that I will have to get up at least twice during the night to go for a leak. It's those late night leaks that really bring home to me how inefficient my kidney may be working, the smell is strong almost ammonia like.

It's beginning to concern me more (not scare) I am now comming to the conclusion that I will not be able to continue this journey 'on the bike' for much longer. I am having big arguments with my emotions, I don't want to give up but I may be forced to, and, will I have to stop altogether because I am pushing myself too much. Will I even have the energy to get the bus or train? It's a lonely wee world, while there are millions of people around me, I am alone in my adventure, my internal struggle, my pain and my anger.

During this trip and until I announced my kidney problem on the website, I only let a few people in on my real reasoning. Even now while the story is unfolding on the web, I can't bring myself around to discussing the situation. It wouldn't feel right, it would feel like I was being a hypo-condriac, whinging about minor ailments. At this stage, while sitting here in McDonalds in Bundaberg, I am confused and unsure what I should do, should I get on with things, go to Mundubbera and earn a crust, should I keep moving forward and hope that things work themselves out - financially. I know, my philosophy has always been that 'if you do things for the right reason, you will always get the right result'. I do have faith that things will work out right, but when you are in a confused state, even the strongest will falters and asks the questions, should I, shouldn't I, will I, won't I.

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Friday 26th July 2002- Day off

Being uncomfortable in bed at five thirty am, tossing and turning, the bed creaking and groaning. In respect of the others sharing the room, I try for an hour to find a comfortable position where there is no pain. It doesn't work, I have to get up. I went for a long hot shower and sat reading a book before heading to McDonalds for breakfast. I know, I can't afford it but the kitchen was already busy with a bus load of Asians talking gibberish to each other. I wasn't in the mood for hard conversation or being asked any questions. A fact that hasn't gone un-noticed by myself over the past week or so, I just feel like being alone, I am so unsure of what's next.

I went to check my emails at the dive shop, on entering the shop I noticed that they were advertising for workers. It just so happens, Glen, the guy that was doing the recruiting was in the shop, I asked him about the work, he was looking for people to pick zucchinis, I volunteered my services. Because I had already paid for my accommodation at the Dive Inn, he offered me my first night free at his place and a lift back down the road I cycled yesterday. I packed my bags and sat waiting in the hostel for Glen to pick me up, meanwhile I met Lesley, she was backpacking around the globe. We got into a very involved conversation about the ups and downs of backpacking, we agreed that in most cases, backpackers were full of young eighteen to twenty odd year olds. Now there is nothing wrong with that however, they invariably seem or act very ignorant, nieve and are mostly out to have a piss up. In that respect the more mature travellers tend to get a bit annoyed with the whole backpacking fraternity. Off course, this is not true of all backpackers younger than thirty and neither is it true in all countries. It is more prevalent in the popular destinations where mummy and daddy are financing the trip. The youngsters are over confident and somewhat irespectful of their surroundings. They don't really care because they will be moving on, it's not their responsibility. Further, when it comes to team work and keeping the room or hostel tidy, doing their ironing or just making themselves tea, they are very lax.

Glen picked me up at about two pm, we drove to 'Secluded Springs' his three hundred acre bit of Australia. He showed me around, the log cabin where I was to sleep. It had a sitting room with a pool table in the middle, in the same room were two doubles and two single beds, there was a ladder leading up to a mezzanine and two single beds. In the back there was the kitchen with a single stove a toaster and a microwave. Outside there was a large camp fire with a spit straddled across it, every now and then the owner puts a goat on it.

In the cabin there were three Irish guys, Raymond, Glen, and Jason - two British girls one from York, Jenny and the other from the Orkneys Yvonne and John from tasmania

I went to the main house where I met Glens wife Sue and to organise the paper work for tomorrow. Tragedy, they needed to see my work visa. I told them that I didn't have one and that I didn't need one, I had a residential tax file number. The farmers get fined ten thousand dollars if they are found to be employing people illegally. I could understand Glens concerns and told him that I didn't want to caused him any problems, that he could phone the tax office and check the status of my tax file number. He thought for a bit, he said after a bit of deliberation, that he would like to help, both he and his wife have done a bit of world travelling and know what its like to need money. However, as his business was relatively new and his client has just came on the books asking him to supply workers, he didn't want to give them any reason to query him. Only last week he had a guy who turned up saying he had a work visa, he started work and the farmer queried it, people from Israel do not get work visas. This understandably put Glen in an awkward position with both the worker and the farmer.

I told him I understood his concern and was in no way looking to cause him any embarrassment, that's why I was being honest about my situation. Sue then chipped in with, 'Glen, Phil was on the phone, you still had to do a job for him'. Glen immediately got up and phoned Phil who was wanting some pipes laid in his backyard, two or three days work. For me a couple of days work is better than none. Glen offered to let me camp on the site for free until the job was done. I find out tomorrow if the job is going ahead.

I set my tent up as the others were coming back from a hard day picking zucchinis, Glen brought me a beer and told me his plans for the property. As it got dark and the cold night began to settle in, I moved in doors with the rest of the happy campers and sat watching the TV and exchanging travel stories. They were all getting up early tomorrow so by ten o'clock it was lights out.

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Saturday 27th July 2002 - Day off

Another day off, well at least it isn't going to cost me anything for accommodation. Today I have been given the opportunity to move into "the boat" a hull with a bedroom built on top. The plan is to float it in the dam and offer it as accommodation to guests.

While I'm happy to spend some time here taking photographs and generally lazing around, I would be happier to keep moving north. I'm kind of glad I didn't go into Mundubbera, the chances are I would get the same response from the orchards in regards to visa requirements. This of course means that things could get pretty tight, not just on the immediate money front but on the long term money front. What do I do?

Glen, told me that I should have four days work as of Monday. I will be digging a trench and setting up the irregation for a septic system. Four days is certainly more profitable than no days. The rest of the day was spent walking around the dam wasting some film and a couple of hours in Bundy.

I met Sofia, Glens three year old daughter, she was a right cutie. Glen came to pick her up from the cabin. She ran to him and said, 'are you picking me up daddy?' Yes I am sweetheart, said Glen. Ok,she said, 'where are you taking me?'. I'm going to take you to the pictures to see snow dogs. 'Okay, that's good, you can do that daddy' was the very mature reply.

Sunday 28th July 2002 - Childers multi cultural festival

Childers, a bright sunny town that normaly sleeps, was for the weekend turned into a "Multi Cultural" matropolis. I put the quotes in because I didn't really see very much that said multicultural, well apart from the flags flying above the street. From a sleepy wee town of about 3-4 thousand, there was about forty thousand, people of all ages and nationalities, though the other nationalities were mostly tourist who happened to be passing by.

It was a warm day and the streets were filled with bouncy castles and slides, the street vendors and their stalls selling lots of usless nic nacks. There were food stalls, stalls selling hats and belts, paintings and moulded garden onaments. The revelers were sprawlled along the main street, sitting on the roadside and hanging out of pub windows while a concoction of musical sounds danced around their ears. If you stopped and let the music sort it's self out you could hear the different strains of Mexican, Irish, Country and bands of recorder playing children. The whole atmosphere was one of joy, happy smiling people with equally happy screaming kids all soaked in the rush of colour and excitement.

The Irish contingent from Secluded Springs, were not such an excitable bunch, not until they had a few beers and even then things were a bit flat. The festival was of no intrest to them so our group of seven spent most of our time in the pubs, we allowed an hour in each. Glen had arranged to pick us up at three thirty, Jenny and I were ready to leave the rest were just getting into the party mood and wanted to stay, I suggested that they get a carry out and we could go back to camp, build a big fire and chill out there, it would be much cheaper. They didn't want to know. Jenny and I left, we got ourselves a carry out and headed for the bus.

As we turned into the street where we were to catch the bus, we noticed that there was a commotion at the bottle shop, it was the mad four trying to organise a carry out. Glen arrived a few minutes later and we all piled in to the bus. Everyone was on a high, swigging out of bottles and cracking jokes. Back at camp, I went with Raymond to get some railway sleepers for the fire while Jason lit the fire. The railway sleepers were from the old cane train railway, they were lying strewn through the bush.

With a blazing fire and plenty of beer, everyone fell asleep. I went in doors to watch the TV, there was some rubish movie on. At Midnight, Glen came across and was a bit cheesed of with John for some reason. I didn't take much notice, I just focused on the TV. After Glen left I went out to the fire to find that John had got a bit upset when he couldn't find the tin of hash, he picked up the wheelbarrow and threw it and broke one of the chairs, when Glen came out to find out what was going on all john said was, "I've got issues'.

The night went on till the wee hours, everything quite settled, we all sat unded the stars, the red glow from the fire warming us. The thick dark waters of the dam reflecting the stars as they danced like glow fish in the sway of the water. The night anamals making restles calls to one another complimented the crackling of the fire and the creeking of the trees as the swayed in the light breeze.

Free Wheelin - July 2002