Friday 8th April, 2022
Avg 22.9km/h Max 39.5km/h
Moving 5:10 Elapsed 7:32:56
Normal operating hours to Wudinna with light winds forecast. Undulating countryside, good road, not much traffic.
With the rather more reasonable wind forecast we opted for a far more reasonable departure time, tippy-toeing out of the pub at about 7.15am.
Overnight Marc had googled the ‘Wirulla Secret’, and it turned out to be … an inland jetty. No, I don’t know why it’s a ‘secret’ as opposed to what it really is – a tourist attraction that started as a joke. “The tide is always out.” Anyway, before leaving town we rolled around the block to take a look.
We made pretty good time to Poochera, 47km away, and pulled up in the local park for a food and loo break. I also wasn’t going to miss the Dinosaur ants sculpture there!
The silos were a sign we were in grain-growing (wheat belt) country again.
Just as we were about to leave, old mate Dusty wandered over from the building next to the park. We had a chat, and then he insisted that we get a photo in front of his gallery. He knew *exactly* the right angle to take it from too! We probably should have gone in and had a look, but at that point we were ready to keep moving on.
He gave us the hot tip to get some of Cilla’s home-made sausage rolls at the Community Store in the next town, Minnipa.
We encountered more bitey march flies along the 34km between Poochera and Minnipa. While they were nowhere near as bad as the Nullarbor- Yalata hellscape, it was still a disincentive to stop for any breaks.
At the community store in Minnipa we got the last two sausage rolls – and they were pretty good. We duly passed on the ‘Tell Cilla that Dusty sent ya’ message.
A 38km leg with a brief stop to take some photos. Good shoulder. The day had warmed up in the time we’d faffed around in Poochera – it was around 28 degrees when we rolled into Wudinna and checked into the motel at the back of the pub.
Wudinna (rhymes with ‘shouldna’) was a bigger town, and they’d made an effort. It was our first sighting of green grass since I don’t know when.
The motel room was excellent. We found out where the laundromat was, and fortunately, Marc convinced me it would be quicker getting back on the wretched bike than walking the 600m back over the railway crossing and out onto the highway. As we went to load the washing in we realised that the ladies in the pub (when we were checking in) had given us a bum steer as to how much the machines cost, and we had to ride back to the motel room, scrounge around for another $2 coin, ride back, put the wash on, ride back over to the bakery before it shut (to stock up for tomorrow)… then back to the laundromat, and, phew….
Pub dinner, and early to bed.