Day 15 (Sept 24) - Mildura to Boundary Bend - 130k

I felt rather sad to be leaving Mildura. However, the day dawned and I had to face the inevitable. I was up early, got myself organized and sat down to my own cooked breakfast all before 7am. Cooked breakfast entails boiling the water in the jug for my ALDI 3 minute oats, something I will never eat again after I finish this trip! I must confess it tastes better if it is cooked over a stove, but often I can’t, or simply can’t be bothered. To ‘beef’ it up, I load it with sultanas and lather it with milk and sugar. I also make my own ‘café late’ with Woollies coffee saches – I started the trip with 40, and have worked down the bulk nicely.

I rolled away from my Motel into the main street of Mildura, went 2 blocks and couldn’t take the intense cold, so stopped to dress up in my winter riding rain jacket, which with my arm warmers remained on for most of the day. It was a surprisingly bitterly cold, cloudy, windy day.

I steered the bike out over the magnificent Murray River to the north via the enormous bridge that takes the Sturt Highway into New South Wales. I understood from the boat cruise yesterday, that the ‘bed’ of the Murray belongs to NSW. The Highway then turned Sth East, tracking with the river for several kilometers, through the small villages of Gol Gol and Trentham Cliffs, before opening up, tracking with the river but far enough to the north to be out of sight for the next 90k.

It was cold, and windy from the SE which meant mostly in my face. It was also very harsh, almost uninteresting country.

It was a matter of keeping the legs turning. I knew I was in for a 130k day, which is not so bad if the wind is favourable. My feet were already ‘frozen’ and I was uncomfortable into the wind. Nevertheless, the bike kept rolling and the k’s gradually climbed. I was chasing 88k to Robinvale, which was the first chance for a coffee stop. It was a long, morning leg.

I was impressed however with ‘rest stops’ every so often which were very well kept, thanks now I guess to NSW administration. This was a very clean toilet in the middle of nowhere. It was so cold, I suspected it might even snow! People are lovely – other travelers on the road like to wave, beep their horns etc. People stopped here at the loo and easily engaged in conversation. Lots of caravans for these past many days – it is caravan highway!

It is amazing to see signs to Broken Hill, even Sydney and also Balranald. This was now Balranald country, but testimony to the remoteness of this part of the country.

Vineyards and citrus plantations appear frequently, but otherwise there were no other signs of real life apart from the regular but courteous traffic on the road. I was hanging out for Robinvale, but all signs pointed to Euston, a NSW town on the Sturt Highway and north of the river. Euston came at about 83k but I couldn’t stop – I had to concentrate to make sure I took the left turn highway (to Balranald) then watch for the quick turn-off to the south again on the Murray Valley Highway that would take me into Victoria (ie over the Murray) and into Robinvale. It was 90k and time for lunch. But I couldn’t pass over the magnificent river without paying it the credit it was due.

Robinvale was a tiny little place but I was surprised to note that it was predominantly Tongan and Asian population. Apparently this is influenced by seasonal demands for ‘pickers’ which brings families from both Asia and Tonga in particular. I felt among friends at the local fish n’ chip shop.

I was now riding ‘blind’ looking for the famous Boundary Bend, once I left Robinvale. All road signs pointed to towns a long way past Bounday Bend, such as Swan Hill. No mention of Boundary Bend at all. I was assuming it would fall at about 130k, but had to keep on my toes because I definitely didn’t want to ride past it! My mind was filled with the lady’s words at the Information Centre at Mildura “Boundary Bend…Oh Gaawd, why would you want to go to Boundary Bend…there’s nothin’ there". She had me worried. I had an onsite van booked – Boundary Bend was just a caravan park. Would I have to lock myself in all night? Was the van park full of rough seasonal pickers, who drank all night? The Motel owners words “Kelvin, it’s a funny place, that’s all”. Meanwhile, I was passing some beautiful sights….a farmer collecting up his hay….

I also noticed, that the bush had also begun to come alive with colour. There were lots of yellows and whites, and then I sighted this field of purple in and amongst the natural bush. It was spectacular.

I passed 125k and still wondering about Boundary Bend. At 129k I turned a slight bend in the road, I could now see that the Murray had come up alongside the road again, and then I saw a most welcome sight – welcome to Boundary Bend.

It was lovely. There was a beautifully clean and well organized roadhouse and caravan park. Across the road, the magnificent river sparkled in the dimming light of the lowering sun through the clouds. This was an oasis, a jewel in the crown of country Victoria, and not a sign of a ‘picker’ anywhere (there is nothing wrong with ‘pickers’ by the way).

Here was the Murray at its magnificent best. I pulled in to the roadhouse and was greeted by Addi (sorry to Addi if I have the name incorrect) “You didn’t take long” she beamed as I walked in, feeling like I had been on the road all day….in fact I had. She was lovely, warm, friendly and remembered my phone call the previous evening. She told me she lives at Manangatang, has several children…and she is married to the bloke I saw collecting the hay way back down the road. They also raise goats…hundreds of them, and the hubby also shoots birds with approval that otherwise eat the farmers crops. It’s the country life.

I showered, and delighted in exploring the rough surrounds of the Murray (all the time keeping my eyes pealed for unfriendly browns in the grass). How do you like these photos?

I came back from my exploring. Boundary Bend could not be lovelier. I could not be more impressed. The shop was spotlessly clean. The small caravan park was neat and organised, and certainly no signs of anything about which to be worried. Addi cooked dinner for me - chops, mash and vegetables. It would feed an army - I suspect she took much pride in doing it personally - she gave me four chops, a jug of gravy and more fresh veges than I have ever seen on a plate. She grinned all over when I told her it was the best I had eaten on the road since Melbourne. All for $12!

                

 I met an elderly couple who set up tent/trailer next to my van. They are Scottish, from Bateman’s Bay and know Pete and Rebecca Gott, our Salvo Pastor’s there. They passed me today on the road. My van costs a whole $55 with its own facilities and bigger than many Motel rooms. It is heated, has digital TV (mostly works) and a full kitchen….maybe I can cook my porridge properly tomorrow! This is home for the night…

I enjoy taking lovely photos. We are surrounded by beauty in this country. Just next to my van is this lovely little English type garden that also displays something of the rugged farming history of Boundary Bend. I am glad I made my bed here for the night. There are four days left of my pilgrimage before I pack the bike on the train at Albury. Tomorrow will probably be my biggest day yet on this tour…..probably 150k. I need to get to Kerang by tomorrow evening, which then leaves 3 days of 100-130k’s each. I will track with the river for about 90k to Swan Hill, then we will part company until after Kerang.

Just finally...it could have been so easy to pass by Boundary Bend. I have been thinking about this for most of the day. So many people do, I suppose, not having any idea of the natural beauty and the lovely country hospitality that exists here. I can still hear that lady "Oh Gawd...why would you go to Boundary Bend...there's nothin' there". She was so wrong.

We need to be careful about who/what we pass by without care or thought. I often think of the account of the blind man, Bartimaeus. He was aware that a large crowd was passing by where he spent his life begging. He was even calling out, anxious to get the attention of Jesus. But the crowds (it was a religious crowd) just yelled at him, telling him to 'shut-up' as they thronged passed him. They were thronging to Jerusalem for one of their religious festivals. They passed him by, in a sense pushing him aside...they were on more important business.

Jesus stopped though....said 'call him'...and of course it was then a different story. Jesus healed and restored his sight, and the Bible simply says "He then followed Jesus".

This story hurts me. These were 'church' people passing by an otherwise marginalised, insignificant individual, a member of a minority within society. The church of the day were on religious business, and pushed him to the margins where they obviously felt he belonged. He was an insignificant, just like a 'Boundary Bend'...until Jesus stopped and gave him the priority he rightly deserved.

The story hurts me because I feel the church of today still passes by too many who are otherwise on the margins of life. Refugee ministries are popular these days, but building friendships with say, the homosexual community is not. I would like to think that we the church revive the mission heart of Christ in prioritising our mission of love to the least, the lost and the lonely. They are our 'Boundary Bend', the undiscovered treasures that we may otheriwse simply pass right on by.

Until tomorrow.........150k to Kerang

KRA