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Day 31 - Creek bed to Creek bed passed Ngumban Cliffs
2011.06.23
Annotated... In the wrong spot.
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No Grog. The gate to the Aborigine homestead. "No Grog" is a warning to those who enter but it amused me to think of it as the name of the property.
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The windy picnic site of Ngumban Cliffs.
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Most of the rest are taken from the top of the cliff. But approaching this site i rode past some lovely scenic spots. Just didn't want to stop.
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My dinner table. Spaghetti again for dinner. annotated.
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Date 19 June 2011 Sunday
Destination: From one creek bed to a creek bed campsite that was full of flood debris so again lots of firewood, Cows and a water trough.
Distance: 100km
7pm: Dinner at creek bed
Spaghetti w cheese sauce
2 spoons cheese
1 spoon oil
That cheese sauce is not that good so don’t buy it again.
My laptop battery ran out last night so I had to handwrite my notes from today.
In the morning I passed a dead roo. I was struck by the bullet hole and how unmassacred the animal looked. At first I assumed it had been hit by a vehicle then shot to put it out of its misery but later I wondered at that. It was in such good condition with no broken bits that I could see. I wondered if someone had just shot it for fun. They’d have had to stop beforehand. It was a female. Such a shame. We don’t actually see too many kangaroos along this road. [someone later told me that it was probably an aborigine who shot it. But I think the aborigines get blamed for every stupid thing that goes on out here. I”ve heard enough people lay the blame on aborigines. On my last trip the fires gave another opportunity to lay blame on them but in fact there is a state wide policy of burning off and the property owners do it before a certain date and it may well be aborigines doing it but its not simply a mindless act as suggested by the person who said it.]
[Most of the scenic photos are taken from the Ngumban Cliffs. There was only a picnic shelter there and it was quite windy. On my approach, I got excited when I saw the sign and took a wrong turn at the gate that says “no grog” (alcohol) which turned out to be the home of an aboriginal family. It was interesting to come so close. I don’t know what to say about it. It was far from anywhere. Just a demountable type of house and a water tank. A few flowering plants. I only stayed long enough to ask where the N. Cliffs were. The whole family was out sending off some guys in a car. There were a few dogs and and an old matriarch and a few kids. In the driveway as I approached a young girl of about 15 was sitting, looking a bit forlorn. I asked her if she was ok. On the way back I wanted to check if she was alright. I suspect she’d had either been in trouble with someone in the house or had had a fight with someone. She wouldn’t have been unable to runaway much further. It amused me to think that the sign on the property gate was the name of the property. But of course it wasn’t, just a warning sign.]
[At Ngumban Cliffs I chatted to a couple travelling around on a holiday. The woman seemed particularly interested and sympathetic to my tour. She was Swiss originally and I admired her knitted wrist gloves which she told me were for milkmaids. She asked if I needed anything. (Its always nice when people ask you that but I never seem to need anything at the time that I can think of). However, I said a seat was the only thing I missed and then she said her brother also cycled and had said the same thing. The hubby was all done up in city boy country style with nice jeans, boots, and akubra hat. I guessed he was a public servant or a professional of some sort and a bit of a fashion victim.]
[One of the memorable characters I met along the way passed me and stopped to talk today. An old man of 80 with his daughter pulled over sharply in front of me. The man grilled me about what it was like to tour by bike. He was keen to do something like this it seemed. I offered him a ride on my bike. He kept on going down the road so I hopped in the car with the daughter in her 50s. She said his wife had died a few years ago and since then he wanted to go off on adventures but hadn’t really got going yet. She also said he rode his bike for an hour each day at home and was missing the exercise. I guess he found it hard to get motivated doing things alone. They were in the area with her business which was to supply the small community shops with clothes. Or something like that anyway. They were from Adelaide.]
There was water in a few creeks after Ngumban. I fliled up once for dinner.
Last night I converted my older socks to toe socks so I could wear them with thongs. I am now trying not to go sockless to protect my heels.
Destination: From one creek bed to a creek bed campsite that was full of flood debris so again lots of firewood, Cows and a water trough.
Distance: 100km
7pm: Dinner at creek bed
Spaghetti w cheese sauce
2 spoons cheese
1 spoon oil
That cheese sauce is not that good so don’t buy it again.
My laptop battery ran out last night so I had to handwrite my notes from today.
In the morning I passed a dead roo. I was struck by the bullet hole and how unmassacred the animal looked. At first I assumed it had been hit by a vehicle then shot to put it out of its misery but later I wondered at that. It was in such good condition with no broken bits that I could see. I wondered if someone had just shot it for fun. They’d have had to stop beforehand. It was a female. Such a shame. We don’t actually see too many kangaroos along this road. [someone later told me that it was probably an aborigine who shot it. But I think the aborigines get blamed for every stupid thing that goes on out here. I”ve heard enough people lay the blame on aborigines. On my last trip the fires gave another opportunity to lay blame on them but in fact there is a state wide policy of burning off and the property owners do it before a certain date and it may well be aborigines doing it but its not simply a mindless act as suggested by the person who said it.]
[Most of the scenic photos are taken from the Ngumban Cliffs. There was only a picnic shelter there and it was quite windy. On my approach, I got excited when I saw the sign and took a wrong turn at the gate that says “no grog” (alcohol) which turned out to be the home of an aboriginal family. It was interesting to come so close. I don’t know what to say about it. It was far from anywhere. Just a demountable type of house and a water tank. A few flowering plants. I only stayed long enough to ask where the N. Cliffs were. The whole family was out sending off some guys in a car. There were a few dogs and and an old matriarch and a few kids. In the driveway as I approached a young girl of about 15 was sitting, looking a bit forlorn. I asked her if she was ok. On the way back I wanted to check if she was alright. I suspect she’d had either been in trouble with someone in the house or had had a fight with someone. She wouldn’t have been unable to runaway much further. It amused me to think that the sign on the property gate was the name of the property. But of course it wasn’t, just a warning sign.]
[At Ngumban Cliffs I chatted to a couple travelling around on a holiday. The woman seemed particularly interested and sympathetic to my tour. She was Swiss originally and I admired her knitted wrist gloves which she told me were for milkmaids. She asked if I needed anything. (Its always nice when people ask you that but I never seem to need anything at the time that I can think of). However, I said a seat was the only thing I missed and then she said her brother also cycled and had said the same thing. The hubby was all done up in city boy country style with nice jeans, boots, and akubra hat. I guessed he was a public servant or a professional of some sort and a bit of a fashion victim.]
[One of the memorable characters I met along the way passed me and stopped to talk today. An old man of 80 with his daughter pulled over sharply in front of me. The man grilled me about what it was like to tour by bike. He was keen to do something like this it seemed. I offered him a ride on my bike. He kept on going down the road so I hopped in the car with the daughter in her 50s. She said his wife had died a few years ago and since then he wanted to go off on adventures but hadn’t really got going yet. She also said he rode his bike for an hour each day at home and was missing the exercise. I guess he found it hard to get motivated doing things alone. They were in the area with her business which was to supply the small community shops with clothes. Or something like that anyway. They were from Adelaide.]
There was water in a few creeks after Ngumban. I fliled up once for dinner.
Last night I converted my older socks to toe socks so I could wear them with thongs. I am now trying not to go sockless to protect my heels.
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Comments
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My thought was hit by a car then shot, too. Seems odd otherwise. Douglas Adams may have thought the towel was the most useful thing ever, but personally I go with the sarong.
JenPat · 2011-09-05: 05:59
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Aww, poor 'roo. Other than that, what a landscape huh!
Tulpje · 2011-09-05: 07:34
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Poor little Kangaroo.....
Shannamuppet · 2011-09-05: 17:19
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Pic #1 is powerful. # 4 is a fav. The landscape is fantastic, isn't it? Makes me want to travel out that way too.
janec · 2011-09-10: 07:02
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Some fabu;ous colors and textures in that landscape.
portreeslim · 2011-10-11: 12:37
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