Deep dreams at Dululu, but I woke hungry with only a couple of muesli bars to sustain me on the 30km warm-up ride to Westwood and breakfast. I left the Leichhardt highway for the Capricornia highway, I had chosen this route rather than warm up on the shorter climb over the razorback through Mt Morgan.

I’m fine with the hills now, having worked myself into good condition, but it’s Bob, he’s been acting a little strange lately; ever since throwing a pin, he just won’t seem to settle down. I just couldn’t trust him on those sweeping downhills.

Outside of the tiny hamlet of Westwood, I came upon a lost cock,

(Rooster)  looked happy enough though and even posed while I took his picture. I saw signs advertising fresh local honey and mandarins for sale. It’s early, and nothing’s open so I couldn’t buy any but I did manage to knock off a couple of mandarins that were left to rot at the base of trees. I couldn’t understand why, surely, they could jam them up for marmalade. It’s true what they say: “Stolen fruit tastes sweeter.”

Tea and toast at the Westwood Hotel, store, and Post Office, with a salad sandwich.

The last 50kms into Rockhampton were quite challenging, with strong cross winds, little or no shoulder, with road trains that come ever so close. I really needed to hold my nerve and concentration. I caught glimpses through the trees of a railway line that runs almost parallel to the road in places. It’s reminiscent of a Jeffery Smart painting. However, instead of colored box-like containers, this one carried grain to the harbor and a hungry world.

Just on the outskirts of Rockhampton, I saw the first of many giant bull statues. Rockhampton is the self-proclaimed “Beef Capital of Australia”

I crossed the Tropic of Capricorn and found a Caravan Park in the more tropical part of town, where I will stay for a couple of days, awaiting mail at the Post Office while having BOB’s unruly ways addressed at the Local bike shop.