To add to yesterday’s post: I visited the Australian Fly Fishing Museum, not the Australian Trout Museum, although stuffed trout were in abundance one even tipping the scales at almost 13 pounds in the old Money.
Last night as the wind picked up we made the decision to move off the expansive lawns into one of the out buildings. We feasted on heirloom figs, pears, apples and blackberries that we picked up along the roadside. As we left this morning, the automatic sprinklers were completing a circuit where we had originally camped, lucky we moved!
Taking the unsealed gravel back road we crossed the river Nile, wild country full of broken trees wallabies, wind and beauty. The gravel spat us out a few kilometers short of Campbelltown. It was a shock adjusting to highway traffic.
We pushed on to Ross , with its historic bridge, barracks, churches and brutish convict history. I must say Ross looked rather pleasant. Gift shops and cafes have replaced the infamous “Female Factory” and the chain gangs. There is also no evidence of an aboriginal past at all.
The cycling Gods are fickle my friends, the wind which had been our friend earlier in the day turned against us, making the push up St Peters Pass (462meters) a challenge.
Rolling into Oatlands we revived over a cup of tea before scoping out a free camp site down by the lake where I was able to fire up my portable stove for a brew and dinner
Tomorrow it’s back roads and gravel to Richmond.