Blood Sweat and Beers

Osprey

                                             
                                    An orange peel representation of my discomfort in the saddle

'Twas around 8am when I started my journey towards the Minilya Bridge Roadhouse on Tuesday the 22/5. I had packed my tent in the caravan park ready for departure when I was approached by Benjamin and Horhay - my French friends - to say goodbye and good luck. Shortly after this my dutch friend Patrick with his two beautiful German travelling partners ventured over to say goodbye also. I visited the caravan of Owen and Bev to say thank you for their company and kind offerings, and finally the German couple (who had taken me out in their 4X4 truck) for many thanks. It was a very comforting feeling riding away having made some great friends to look out for on the road. So it was with great enthusiasm that I took to the road (after a 'decky's breakfast') to chew up 141km's of road.

The road was generally empty and I found it easy to ride without having to get off the bike in order to address distractions (photo's, travellers, flat tires etc). I had not eaten enough food for lunch however, and my stomach was twisting itself in knots for the last 40 odd km's. But never mind, the roadhouse had delicious meals just waiting to be eaten (I had two of these meals). 

I sat out the front of the roadhouse in the warm air upon sun-set to soak up the peace and relax my tired body. I was soon chatting to a young truck driver who offered me a few chilly beers. The air was still and the sunset lit up the sky over the Minilya River (which was dry). It was the perfect end to a hard, long day in the hot outback. In addition to my seemingly good luck I was able to camp at a rest stop not 500m down the road on the river. It was illegal to camp in the rest stop, but it was dark by the time I set up and I told the Roadhouse (who offered paid camping) that I would come in for breakfast if they didn't blab. Win win. 

I am very quickly learning the importance of a large breakfast: Big breaky = big day in good mind frame. Small/no breaky = horrible day for myself and those around me. 

Coral Bay was my next stop, and I had been very excited to arrive following 5 star reviews.

It was an incredibly windy day on the bike, and I was buffeted around the road like a pinball.  I was at the winds mercy for 101km's. 

I passed a big red sign stating that I was passing into the 'Tropic of Capricorn' which meant little to me so I took a mental note to google it later. Not very important. 

I arrived in Coral Bay around 4pm in a slightly irritated mood. It was expensive, windy and there was nowhere that I could sneak off to in search of a camp spot. None-the-less I checked into the caravan park and found that I was next to some really lovely people that I had met some 400km's down the road. We sat up to watch a movie and I was treated to a few glasses of wine. It was a great way to unwind. My next day was a scheduled rest day, so it was time to soak up the Ningaloo Reef for the first time...