Ok, there’s nothing for it. Mt Isa or bust. (and another rest day!)
We leave the humble Boulia caravan park behind us, get one last cruise of the main street, and it’s off we go.
We’re heading into real road train territory now, but to be honest, we haven’t seen any where near the amount of traffic that we expected, so any change is always a bonus! Pete gives consideration to a short (806km) detour to The Alice
What’s on the agenda for today. Ah huh. Yep. I see. A BLISTR (bloody long straight road). Cool.
Pete and Rosi make some of their own fun…. and there’s a teasing glimpse on the horizon of the hills leading to the Isa.
Peter S and the crew find an amazing camping spot for the night, and after pitching yet again, it’s into the river for a swim…
Kate takes a well deserved (and rare) breather and opens the bar, as the riders enjoy one of the nicer camp sites so far…!
The colors in the sunsets out here are pretty special, and I can’t wait to see some of the shots that Kym, Pete and the others have taken. Andy sets another amazing fire, Peter S tells an amazing story about his time in the outback on an Aboriginal community, and before long the cobwebs kick in enough to force another retreat into the tent.
It’s another lovely morning for day 22, and we’re off towards another bush camp tonight. It’s going to be hard to beat day 21 for sheer brilliance. It’s quite a sight to have some cloud, and it makes the morning a little cooler for a change.
We’re pegging back the miles all the time, and we can almost smell Mt Isa.
The scenery is forever changing, and we hit some hills for the first time in a while. Breaking up the morning, Rosi gives my Giant a try… it’s a little big for her, me thinks. It’s a pity there’s not a shot of me riding her bike, as it’s quite small and it must have looked a sight!
We find a rare tree for some shade at morning tea… quite a treat really, as it’s hot today…
It’s all smiles and full bellies, as we get a nice tail wind for the afternoon ride. There are more fences along the side of the road now, and the camp is literally on the side of the road. Luckily, there still isn’t much traffic, so it’s all good. One more sleep until Mt Isa.
Everyone has a head of steam up on day 23. It’s another beautiful day too, we’re really being blessed with the weather throughout this trip.
Before we know it, we’re in Mt Isa. This is quite a milestone really, and there’s smiles all around as we navigate to the Copper City caravan park.
The usual flurry of setting up tents, queuing up washing and planning (absolutely nothing) for the rest day tires us out, and after a swim in the (unusually cold) pool and a nap, it’s time for a quick recon of the shops to see if there’s a bike shop anywhere. There’s a rather obnoxious creaking coming from the bottom bracket and crank on my Gitant trance, and it seems that the only tool we didn’t bring was an appropriate crank remover…!
After a shower, it’s off to the Irish club for dinner. We’re almost the only ones there, and it’s a big place. Anywhere that has Guinness on tap approaches hero status on the Gulf to Gulf trip, and after partaking in a pint or two, and a huge dinner that came with complimentary wine, we’re all well on the way to forgetting where we pitched our tents. Pete got an attack of the giggles on the way home, and needed to be escorted to the Pete Mahal (*), and I’m sure sleeping in your sleeping bag and on your mattress is a more advisable approach than the kamikaze approach I seemed to take, gathering by the explosion of bags, clothes and riding paraphernalia I encountered in my tent the next morning. Too funny!
< end of days 21, 22 and 23 >
* – Pete’s tent is about 3 x as tall as anyone else’s, and has been affectionately dubbed the “Pete Mahal”
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