Hay to Mildura
I awoke early the next morning – between the trucks and the dogs next door barking, I got very fractured sleep. Neck pain struck about 2am but the painkillers were outside the tent – with the mozzies.
If you've ever seen the Alfred Hitchcock movie The Birds, where the birds are lined up silently along the wire... waiting... waiting... well that’s what the mozzies were doing. They had accumulated between the tent and the fly, patiently anticipating the juicy morsel within. I did gymnastics in the tiny tent to cover every inch of flesh before emerging from the tent which then set the dogs barking anew.
I eased into the day and filled up with petrol and did the tyres before loading the bike up – it only took me three days to learn that lesson. I still need to revise the packing because the case across the back seat is still too top heavy.
It is only 300kms to Mildura and the first 150km was fairly flat and straight. The truckers were perfectly behaved giving me plenty of room as they overtook. I refuelled in Balranald and had a quick bite to eat at the War Memorial beside the river. Just before Euston the glovebox lock died from vibration so I executed the first "fix" of the trip with some duct tape. The last leg was a doddle and I pulled into Mildura mid afternoon. I found the boys had booked a cabin at the caravan park and Brian gave up his room and volunteered to bunk in with Frosty so that I could have a real bed. We chatted the night away and toasted absent friends.