Day 10 (Sept 19) - Tintinara to Murray Bridge - 119k

If ever there was a 'velos horribillis', it would have been today! By the way, 'velo' is french for 'bike'. In contrast to yesterday which was near perfect conditions for cycling, today blew with near gale force winds all day. I am so grateful that I chose the long haul yesterday, although the 119k today would also be considered a long haul. The wind was from the NE to start with, and by end of day it was coming from N then NW then W....but it didnt matter, it was blowing into me all day long. By the time I reached Talem Bend (105k) the cafe staff were telling me it was a 90kph gale......why would I be surprised.

I set off from my lovely lonely pub at Tintinara at just after 8am, feeling fit and ready for another ride. But the moment I turned into the highway, I knew that every kilometre was going to be an intense struggle. It was dreadful to say the least, but I have learned not to fight the wind. You first have to face the fact that it will be a long hard day in the saddle. Secondly, choose to find a restful attitude, a quiet place within (thats easier said than done). Finally, choose a lower gear so that the legs and knees are not strained at all, and just pedal evenly. When the wind was at its worst, the best I could do on the flat was 8-12kph. When you think that there is 119k ahead of you, you know it will be a slow, frustrating day.

Turning on to the highway, this was the sign that showed me what was ahead. The photo looks so calm - but the trees were being blown everywhere.

 This is cattle and feed crop country of course, so the massive silos were beginning to appear. These stand out like tall sentries, and the first things to be seen of towns as you approach from a distance. I think this was Coonalpyn, one of many little towns along the way today. Cars with caravans were also pulling in for coffee - they couldn't believe that I was out in such horrific winds.

 Being an old farm boy, I can't resist tractors (and cows...pigs also!). This one spoke of a beautiful rural pioneering heritage of this part of the Coorong. How still the trees look! I just kept pedalling, ensuring that I wasnt putting my legs under strain. The hard thing about flat roads is that there is no downhill relief - into the harsh winds requires constant hard pedalling akin to constant hill climbing (actually climbing hills is easier than facing the wind!)

 I eventually made my way through the tiny village of Ki Ki (aboriginal for food and water, similar to the PNG pigin 'kai kai' meaning food). When I got to Yumali, another tiny rural village, I took refuge for about 30mins under the awning of a disused shop with house attached. It was the first time that I could get Optus signal, there being none where I stayed at Tintinara. I sat in an old cane chair doing the blog. The wind was wild, just getting wilder. I was actually now getting worried. The force of the wind suddenly blew my bike away! My bags went to ground, contents from my open backpack spilled out....it was not amusing or fun. I now had to face the wind again.

Back into the wind, there was no real respite. Sometimes the side scrub (if there was any) acted as a part shield, but most of the time it was sheer hard work holding the bike straight and on the small apron running alongside the vehicle lane. Traffic flew by at 100kph. Trucks are the worst, the bike always hard to control in the huge sucking gust caused by the trucks. You can see from the photo how desolate the Coorong countryside had become. The wind was howling across this from my left. I dont mind admitting that I had many frightening experiences where the wind bursts virtually lifted and carried the bike off into the traffic lane! It was a wrestle, taking all strength and care to hold the bike and keep fighting the massive wind tyrade belting and belting me from the left hand side.

 I constantly watch the computer. Into such harsh wind, the kilometres pass ever so slowly. It takes a long time to travel 1k at 8kph. Surprisingly though, the trip average was working out at about 15kph. I was now longing for Tailem Bend (at 105k) where I looked for some relief from the gale force wind conditions.

Some of you will be asking 'what is it like to be riding all day into winds up to 90kph'? Well, get in the car, on the passenger side, and while someone else does the driving, lean out of the window at least to your waist, holding the door handle with one hand and the mirror with the other, and ask the driver to drive at speeds varying 70-90kph. At the same time, wear a bike helmet so that the full force of the wind catches your helmet so that the strap chokes you at the neck. Stay out there, and drive in this fashion all the way from Sydney to Brisbane, about a ten hour trip. This will give you half the experience, and remember you are not also riding a bike at the same time.

I eventually passed the intersection that went left to Meningie. If I had not have come through the Coorong, I was planning to come up the coast way that would have brought me into Tailem Bend from Meningie. I knew then I wasn't far from Tailem Bend. There is sometimes a sense of great relief to finally see the town sign. In this case I took a photo which is not here, but at the same time as seeing the town welcome sign.....guess what.....I saw my first sight of the Great Murray River. I had made it - almost 950k from Melbourne along the Great Ocean Road, and that chapter was now behind me and a new chapter opened up - the beautiful Murray River.

  I rolled into Tailem Bend, knowing that the pilgrimage in the gale was still not over, but I needed a break out of the wind. I found the local Bakery, and sat out of the gale. The girls in the shop forced me up against the cake counter until I gave in to buy one of their custard tarts! It had also been a day for phone calls. Being in the gale, it was hard to hear the phone, then if I managed to get to it, it was hard to hear in the wind. One of those calls was from a dear cycling friend who asked me if I would conduct her wedding! Despite the hardships of the day, an invitation such as this is the kind of privilege that carries you above the debilitating circumstances of the moment. As well as my custard tart, I used my time at the Bakery to seek out local information for getting to Murray Bridge because I could not use the Adelaide Freeway. I was pointed to the old punt, and the old road that took me out through the little farming town of Jervois, and then a country run for the final 24k into the wind into Murray Bridge.

 Little did I know that I would be engaging with the beautiful Murray so soon. I joined the queue of cars, and with bike took our place on the old punt for this historic crossing.

 It was now a race against time. It was just before dusk, the sun was down behind clouds and there was a darkness about the hour. I still had 24k from the ferry. I must say it was a lovely run through beautiful, rich, lush dairy country. The smell of fresh cow manure filled the air, as I tried my best to open the throttle and pick the speed of the bike up and cruise in to Murray Bridge. However, the toll of the day was telling, and it was not that easy, although I noticed that the days average was now 16kph. I had been on the road for 10 hours by the time I hit Murray Bridge just after 6pm.

Today was a huge day, at times frightening at other times exhilerating. Pushing the bike in the fading light of dusk, I found myself fighting tears and overwhelming emotion. We had been to battle today, and we had come though. At about 6:15pm I rolled into the old centre of Murray Bridge and pulled up outside the gracious old Bridgeport Hotel, my home for the night. I received the most unbelievable welcome by members of the Mypolonga Football team. I made 'mates' immediately. They wanted my story. I was amongst new friends, and I promised to give them a plug on the blog. Thanks fellas for the lovely welcome and friendship.

Finally, today I thought a lot about the disciples in the boat when the winds came up and they were afraid. The Bible says 'the winds were against them' as they tried to row their boats across the lake. The Bible says that Jesus came to them saying "Dont be afraid, take heart, it is I", and the wind died down. This sat with me all day. I needed a strength outside of my own, but debated 'should I ask for the winds to die down (I tried yelling 'be still' several times to no avail!). My mind also went to the Old Testament character Nehemiah, rebuilding the wall of Jerusalem but in the face of debilitating odds. The challenges to him were overwhelming, but in the face of this, instead of surrender to his circumstances he declared "Lord, strengthen thou my hands".

Today I resolved - it is better to seek strength to face the circumstances of life, rather than unrealistically expect my difficulties to be diminished to the level of my strength.

Tomorrow I follow the Murray to Blanchtown, before turning east to begin the journey home.

KRA