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 the shorter climb over the razorback through Mt Morgan.
I’m fine with the hills now, having worked myself into 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, looked happy enough though and even posed while I took his picture. I saw signs advertising fresh local honey and mandarines for sale. MI couldn’t buy any of course but 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. Anyway 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 to go.
The last 50kms into Rockhampton were quite challenging , 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 with the road in places. It’s reminiscent of a Jeffery Smart painting. However,instead of coloured box like containers , this one carried grain to the harbour 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.
I hope Bob pulls through OK. No cock jokes from me, a lost cock is serious business.