My stay at Murray Bridge was all too brief. The ‘Bridgeport Hotel’ (pictured below) is one of the good old pubs, with a commanding view of the Murray River. The staff could not be nicer. I was up early and actually feeling great despite my marathon effort the previous day. The beautiful sound this morning was complete silence. The wind blew a fury all night, but as the sun warmed the fields along the Murray, the wind had blown itself out. The day was beautiful, if not perfect. I rolled away just after 8am, but stopped for photos of the massive bridge I would need to cross to begin my journey to Blanchetown today.
My route today involved mostly country roads, but excellent roads. I crossed the great Murray, and headed east out of town, initially on the road back to Tailem Bend (not the way I came in last night) but after several kilometers turned to the north on the Karoonda Road. The conditions were perfect. There was a slight hint of breeze to my tail, and it wasn’t hard to get the bike really rolling almost at normal ‘peleton’ speed. I was in my large ‘chain ring’ for the first time since leaving Melbourne, and the bike was cruising at times at a cool 35kph! The road was continuous undulations. I had to be careful not to overdo it because it was a long day ahead.
I was tracking due north with the great Murray to my left, although it was out of sight most of the time. It is a glorious river. The river ‘bed’ is massive often with very steep sides that reveal millions of years of erosion as the river over time has cut a deep swathe through this beautiful countryside. The Karoonda Road was long and straight as a ruler.
The Karoonda road turned east, but I then picked up the just as straight ‘Bowhill’ Road, which eventually turned away from the Murray and also cut due east for a long time. This was a very lonely experience. Very few cars passed all day. There were no hamlets on the road, no coffee shops and a little worrying, no source of water. Bowhill Road then turned and started tracking north east. I was riding blind, not having a map, and was unaware that the road was actually tracking NE and then due North to eventually link up with the Murray which had also turned east, and we connected at the river village of Bowhill.
Bowhill was actually off the road, and I was not about to add to my daily mileage. It was good I didn’t have a map because there are two Bowhill Roads. The one I was on became Morell Road before entering the other Bowhill Rd at Bowhill. See if you can follow that. I just stuck to the road in faith, following the very occasional sign that kept pointing to Blanchetown.
Just after leaving Bowhill (the turnoff) I was back on the other Bowhill road now, and set off north once again, with the big river a visible distance away to my left. This is where I had my first accident of the tour. As the road left the village of Bowhill behind, I came across this quaint cottage (incidentally, the countryside is dotted with these, many in ruins but a constant reminder of previous pioneering generations. The small sign said “Bowhill Community Hall – Historic Site”. See for yourself. So I pulled across the road, but as my bike hit the dirt section of road, the ground crumbled – it was actually deep dust (like bull dust) and of course it just threw the bike like a bucking bronco. I came down heavily on the gravel road, but fortunately nothing broken. Sadly, as I write tonight the right knee is very painful from where I fell. At least I got the photo, but was very careful all day in running the bike off the bitumen for photos.
There were a number of little hamlets along the road, but they were all off the road by several kilometers on the side of the river which was running consistently to my left but a k or two to my left side. As keen as I was for water and an excuse for a rest, I wasn’t going to add k’s to the journey. It was always a steep climb out of each hamlet, so not interested.
So I actually rode through to about 80k before stopping (except for photos) at the very cute little hamlet of Nildottie, comprised of modern and historic beautiful houses that hugged a bend in the river
It was early afternoon and as the day had matured, so had the wind. It was now strong and cold, but fortunately more to my left if not slightly from behind, depending on the direction of the road. However, the miles seemed to be passing slowly, and the trip was turning out to be longer than I had calculated. The country now became very open, it was flat, the road was now dead straight and it seemed to take an age to reach the meritorious 100k.
In the final 20k, I was tracking very close to the river. It was startling and majestic. It is not only broad, but the cliffs that follow the Murray for many miles in this part of the country speak of a very old river system. I could see Blanchetown off in the far distance on the other side of the river. I was now on the ‘Blanchetown – Swan Reach’ road, and met the sturt highway just 5k short of the town. I took the sturt to the west, crossing the river which was a massive expanse, not needing much to realize I was now back on the highway, heading west.
It was a nasty climb, as the computer showed nearly 126k as I turned off the highway, to descend down and down this very steep hill to the Riverland Caravan Park, my home for the night. I have a private backpackers room – no complaints about that.
The people here are very nice. Everyone all got very excited as a gigantic riverboat came from Murray Bridge to enter the Loch (it is Loch 1 on the river – there are many). I managed this spectacular photo before the ship went into the loch, to be raised in river height for the next part of the journey.
Just finally, I am feeling a little upset today. I dont like bullies. Bullies are people with unrestrained power, and can either be people or even organisations, which for reasons of complete self centredness will prey on those who are weaker through physical or emotional trauma. In the Bible, Goliath was a bully. He was strong, he had the physical and emotional advantage, making his enemies cower away from his taunts to come and fight him. People and organisations do this today.
So I love it when there is but one who has the courage to stare down the bully. The shepherd boy David, who became King of Israel, confronted the giant. He was physically a pipsqueak compared to Goliath, but his sheer courage and his unrestrained faith in God actually made David the real giant. The Bible tells the story. He faced Goliath with nothing but courage and Godly trust, and it took only one stone from his sling. The bully was no longer.
I just think there are times in life when courage and Godly trust is required to overcome bullies. Otherwise, evil continues to prevail.
Tomorrow (Wed) I turn my face to home. I head east across the vast expanse to Renmark, by the busy Sturt Highway. I am doing fine, knocking over 100-120k days like 'a David'.
Until tomorrow.
KRA
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