The next days riding led me to a very busy camp site called Mary Pool. Situated on the drying Mary River, this spot was great for bird life and I even had a run in with a wild pig. That night I was treated to home-made pizza cooked in a camp-oven accompanied by a few cold beers - courtesy of Marica and David, a lovely couple travelling in a huge shiny caravan.
After finally arriving in Halls Creek the next day I decided to take two rest days in order to catch up with Grant - the cyclist travelling in the opposite direction who had invited me to stay at his place what feels like a lifetime ago. I was also hoping to catch up with the aboriginal guys I had met days before. In hindsight I had been naive to believe that they would meet me - they were living on a time-scale of their very own, and so that never happened. I spent the first night at the pub meeting the locals who I found very friendly. They bought me a beer and we talked about gold prospecting for hours on end which was their favourite hobby. It was great to meet these country folk who all had something quirky to bring to the table. For example one man 'Paul' had ridden his horse to the pub, and explained to me that he usually rides one particular horse which is very caring and supportive of his drinking habits, and therefore walks slowly and steadily home without direction from his drunken, usually sleeping passenger. I also found myself engaged in conversation with a young aboriginal station worker. We were talking about dangerous animals in the country which lead to me to tell him that I had been desperately searching for a thorny devil lizard (not dangerous) and that my frustration was drawing to an end - it was nearly time to give up. After a twisted smile and a small giggle he then produced his pet 'Snoop Dog' from his top shirt pocket, which to my utter amazement was a thorny devil in the flesh. What are the chances???
Two days later I met Leo at the caravan park. Leo was gold prospecting out in the bush, but had come back to civilization to rid himself of pesky ticks, and to treat himself after a fruitful trip. He showed me the small chunks of gold with great pride and I had to admire his effort and determination. Leo was a humble man in his early 40's who shared with me stories of his life over most of the day. He spoke with energy and enthusiasm and even supported his stories with hundreds of photos stored within his computer.
A few hours later Grant arrived and the three of us went to the pub for dinner and drinks.
Immersed in the lively atmosphere of a country pub during a rodeo, in the company of two friends that were really making me laugh, I felt happy and alive. We had a few beers and laughed at the cow-boys in their expensive trendy attire.
I felt unsure whether or not to be flattered when a short fat local girl asked me out on a date to - and I quote - "come and shoot rats at the dump this Tuesday night?". I thought I must be playing subject to a silly joke amongst her friends and so played along asking questions about the details of this 'date'. But her story was detailed and plausible - basically; a group of her friends go to the dump each Tuesday in teams to shoot rats, and I was asked to be on her team. What a hoot! But sadly our country romance was not to be, for it was finally time for me to head towards the famous Bungle Bungle Range...
The man himself - Grant
Rainbow Bee-eater
Great scenery for riding!
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