DOING DUBBO

What a weekend!

No pictures...no camera.

There is always a certain excitement the night before going on a trip. Sleep is hard to come by when I am about to take off, so I decided to make the most of my evening and went to see Neil Murray at the Bulli Heritage Hotel. A very special treat that has not come around for about ten years or so. He's one of my favourite Aussie Balladiers.

Not many people turned up, but that made it quite intimate and I enjoyed the novelty.

We even bought his latest CD. Couldn't quite come at the book...

There was even an interpretive dancer doing her thing, winged by half a crotchered tablecloth and armed with an earthenware flute thing, which none of the musos mastered by the end of the night...nor did she by the way...

Back to the Dubbo trip.
I had organised the trip a couple of days before take off with my friend Phil and Joey joined us as well, which was a good thing, as she turned out to be my Lady in shining armour later on, when I got stranded.

I got to the meet point on time (YEAH!!) to find Phil filling up and telling me that he'd left his phone at home, which he needed to stay in touch with a volatile health situation at home. So off he went to fetch the phone whilst Joey and I caught up on some funny gossip and enjoyed our morning coffee.
Phil led the ride, which was absolutely wonderful, taking all the pressure off and enabled us to really relax into the ride.

Picton, Wallacia, Penriff, Wilberforce...PUTTY!!!!!...Halfway House...This is where I left my life behind. I only found out that I had been that stupid just about a hundred and fifty kms later. I had left my handbag sitting on a table...
We were 35 km out of Denman and we had no reception when I noticed it missing. Our next stop was a fuel stop and we were running low...so we pressed on towards the closest onroute town.

The lady at the visitor's centre in Merriwa rang the Halfway House from their landline and handed me the receiver, when I heard an affirmative voice ... "yes, it's here!"

O M (f) G !!!!!!!!!

If you've ever lost something of importance and some good samaritan has done the right thing with their find, then you know how elated I felt..how that knot in the stomach and the tightness in your throat instantly disappears and makes your life liveable again...yes! It was there.

There was no way we could turn around and do that trip twice again so we went ahead and Joey offered to get me through the weekend.

After the Hunter the landscape gets a little straight and flat and by that time somewhat tedious. The young one was hanging out for a ciggy and the advanced guy felt the arthritis...I just felt every bump via my filled to capacity bladder! ...and no toilet in sight!!

Torture!

We cruised through Dubbo town to find an acceptable Hotel for the night and one of the things both Phil and I later commented on was how we had a dejavu at one point. We rode past a place that looked just like the spitting image of Tamworth! It was interesting to see and it gave Phil reason to voice his opinion that country towns are starting to slowly loose their identity. Hmmm... a bit like what Westfields are doing for shopping malls across the world...

We found a place to stay, The Castleraigh, got a good pub bistro feed at The Amaroo and once Phil made a beeline for bed (zonked by effective pain killers), the town was waiting for us girls to paint it red...

After a couple of games of pool (the Antz Pantz!) with the local indiginous population (...go Lorna-Sis! You rock!) there was the opening of the very first Night Club in Dubbo to look forward to. It only took a couple of bars of "shakin' that a.." to get me up to be the very first ever shaker on the dance floor.

However, our company, Leif Morris (check him out on Facebook), was tempting us to listen to some live music and original songs on the hotel balcony. Much better! He's got some top songs happening there.

A cooked breakfast made the next morning much more bearable and after a momentary scare...I had switched the kill switch...and immediately convinced myself that the charging system had finally given up the ghost... we took off towards Bathurst.

Again, long stretches of flat and straight roads, but the early morning light with its long shadows turned everything into the most picturesque landscapes. Especially the turning leaves...the colours are simply stunning. There were rows of bright yellow poplars and deep red trees dropped into the dry and blonde grass flats like drips of blood...a feast for the eyes.

Bathurst by ten o'clock. Phil's mate's ashes were to be sprinkled on Mount Panorama.

Then we headed home (for me there was that little detour in store though!). It started to rain in Lithgow, allthough I had hoped that the mountains would keep the clouds confined to the coast... no such luck. Once the other two headed off down the Highway, I conquered Bell's line of Road and The Putty in torrential downpours...in my leathers. The closest I came to wet weather gear was a set of dishwashing gloves I keep in my pack....aaarrrrrrgh!

Riding along, the rain stopped pouring occasionly, but being so high up in the Blue Mountains, the mist from the clouds and the fog made it hard to see through the helmet's visor. At one stage the fog rose dramatically from the road and amongst the trees. The road seemed to follow the crest of the mountain and on the right the fog was white and pure, but on the left, looking down ito a tree lined gully I saw black fog rising...ooooh I thought: the devil's kitchen! It was strange. I'd never seen anything like it and I was intrigued! A couple of hundred meters later the mystery solved itself...it was the ZigZag railway's chimney...I-think-I-can-I-think-I-can-I-think-I-can-I-think-I-can, which puffed along beside the road, below the treeline...

It stopped raining at the Halfway House. In fact, it was dry as a bone...for a moment. I was drenched and shaking, my icy cold hands tightly wrapped around the cuppaccino, I grinned from ear to ear: I had my bag back!

Back down the Putty Rd, it started to get dark by Penrith and by the time I got to Appin, down Bulli Pass and home, all I could think of was that long hot shower, a nice warm cuddle and a glass of vino...

Thanks Phil, thanks Joey! That was one cool weekend!

Here is my co-traveller's blog entry

'just a click away'