Well-rested and with spirits high after a terrific weekend in Birdsville, the lads were keen to get rolling again. After our now standard breakfast of a big bowl of muesli and a cuppa in the pre-dawn light, the boys grabbed their two-wheeled steeds and headed out of the campground.
At this point we discovered both Pete and Andrew had flat tyres. No problem, just a minor delay we thought. Ric decided to add some air to his back wheel at the same time and succeeded only in snapping off the top of his Schraeder valve. We now had a third wheel to change. Alan and Harry didn't have much to film in terms of a departure scene, but they did get to see three bikes upended, tubes awry and lots of mad pumping.
Finally, we were ready to leave again. And then - one almighty bang from Pete's rear tyre. The explosion left Pete's rear end smoking, woke Julie up, and apparently is still causing dinner table conversation in Birdsville. It had the power to completely split the inner tube on Pete's rear wheel, blow the reflector off and, as we would discover later that day, buckle the wheel.
So we now had a fourth wheel to change, and we hadn't cycled a centimeter. It's fair to say that Pete got lots of good-natured advice, like: eat less pies, put less pressure in the tyres, etc.
We finally rode out of Birdsville well past dawn, but in time to see our new mate Wolfy walking back into town with his dog.
We rolled north under a cloudy sky and soon encountered our first rain for the trip. It was only a light shower, and with a gentle tailwind (woohoo) pushing us along we covered the ground more quickly than we had for a week or so. The rain gummed up the unsealed parts of the track a little, and that, coupled with some of the damage left by previous floods, left some areas of the track pretty muddy and rutted. AP discovered one such stretch was a little unforgiving as he dove off to the right. After some cursing of the mud he had covered himself in, it was back to business.
Stopping each 10kms for a quick stretch, drink and comfort stop has been working well for us, and it wasn't long before we saw more emus and some wild horses. In no time we were at our designated 80km lunch rendezvous with the troopie. We enjoyed a couple of delicious ham and salad sandwiches before pushing on for the final 30 km of the day.
As we rolled into another fine bush camp that Alan and Julie had located, the rain really began to hammer down. While Pete enjoyed a hot tub of water prepared lovingly by his Mum, the rest of us quickly set up camp and then dived into the main tent for a coffee, some cards and a nip of fine malt whiskey - it really is unseasonably cold. Some earlier giggling from the tent turned out to be AP and the whiskey bottle, prior to the arrival of glasses/cups.
Alan's prediction of 30 minutes only of rain proved to be just about spot on, so we soon reemerged, Dom to assist Pete in straightening the damaged wheel, Ric for another run, and Julie to knock together another delicious dinner of Hungarian Ghoulash. With a beaut day of cooler weather, much improved track conditions and a tailwind, the boys retired around 9.30 ready for their assault on the river crossing first thing tomorrow.
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