Bicycle Tours in South Western Australia:

Merredin - Hyden - Midland

11 days, 554 km [map]

The aim of this trip was to reach Wave Rock at Hyden, starting at Merredin and returning as far as Midland or Armadale to catch the train the rest of the way back to Cottesloe. Midland was decided upon as the trip progressed.

DAY 1, Merredin - Bruce Rock

THURSDAY 26 OCTOBER 1995

Niteroad had picked up my bike and taken it to Merredin on Tuesday 24 October. I caught the 'Prospector' train from East Perth at 8:45 am on Thursday 26th. I had packed a brunch consisting of a salami calabrese roll with capsicum and a cheese roll with capsicum, and a couple of cans of Coca-Cola. I ate this slowly and dozed sometimes as the train rolled comfortably through the sunlit countryside.

The train was 10 minutes late leaving Perth but arrived in Merredin on time. Then I ran into the great convenience of the new, privatised, fragmented way of running the railways today. The station building was closed, and I had to hump my luggage 200 metres to the information place to find out where Marley's Transport, the Merredin depot for Niteroad, was located. When I could get attended to they told me it was about a kilometre and a half from the station.

I set off in the hot noonday sun, pausing to buy a cold chocmilk. I had walked some distance when I was met by a utility coming the other way, with my bicycle in the back. The girl said that her boss had seen me coming and told her to save me a walk. I suppose I could have asked them to bring it all the way to the station and meet me from the train, if they were willing to be that helpful. I will try it next time.

I changed and got everything packed and ready, with the all-important speedo connected, and started rolling at 12.49 pm, speedo reading 2833. I headed due south and had to climb for a few kilometres. The weather was warm, about 30, with a light southeasterly, which was mostly against me but not to make too much difference.

The journey was quite pleasant - the speedo was reading accurately according to the 5-kilometre posts (this was to change later due to a problem with the tyres, of which more later, Day 9), the bike was running really well and vindicated the work I had done on it before the trip. I stopped for a drink at 2848, 2861 and 2873.

Towards the end of this trip I was passed by the local school bus, whose driver honked at me as the kids all waved and cheered.

I arrived in Bruce Rock at 3.41, 2882. The journey had not seemed too difficult, but since it was the first day and I was anxious about the trip and keen to make a good start, my mind was ruling my body, as had happened during the push to Bluff Knoll in 1993, so I was less aware of physical stress than I might have been.

I booked into the Bruce Rock Roadhouse Motel, one of only three units. I had booked this on the previous evening, and the woman had sounded a bit doubtful - this explained why. I had to walk into the dining room to find anyone. Two women were there and I asked them if they were running the place, but they said they were only customers. They discussed my trip with me and told me there was no food in Hyden, only a horrible pie from the deep freeze and suggested that I should get the lady in charge of this roadhouse, a friend of theirs, to pack me up something. I thanked them politely and did not explain that I didn't expect to be in Hyden until Sunday, or that (as it turned out) the food there would most likely be adequate for my needs.

The unit was small, with sealed windows and an air-conditioner the only source of ventilation. I turned this to Cold and lay down for a sleep.

I didn't wake up until 5.47. Just time to shower, change, look round the town and make a couple of 'phone calls before dinner. I ordered Chicken Kiev with chips and salad and (as I was to do with dinner throughout the trip) a whole jug of iced water. While I was waiting for it I had a sudden stomach problem. I went over to the two women who were still, three hours later, sitting at the same table talking, and asked them to tell the waitress that I would be back shortly as I had to go to my unit to fetch something.

When I got back my meal was there. It was quite nice, though the chicken exuded a quantity of spicy melted butter when I cut through the skin, and I wondered how much of this meal would stay long enough to nourish me. I remembered the disaster of 1985.

Afterwards I wandered through the other part of the roadhouse, which was also an amusement parlour and general store, to get some biscuits. The lady offered me something to make breakfast with in the morning but I said I was not feeling well, and thought just biscuits would be better. She agreed and suggested tea as well. Indeed, I had a cup of tea when I went back to the unit, and this stopped my problem - not straight away, but by next morning. I had a cup of tea every day of the trip, after that.

Km for day: 49. Average speed to Bruce Rock (as always, calculated on total elapsed time, including stops for whatever reason) 16. kph.

DAY 2, Bruce Rock - Narembeen

FRIDAY 27 OCTOBER

I only had 39 km to do this day, so I didn't hurry getting going. I left Bruce Rock at 8:49. It would have been better to leave earlier because of the heat. The maximum temperature that day was about 30 and winds were ENE which meant that they would be opposing me some of the way and help me a bit on the southward legs, on the zigzag road to Narembeen.

At one point on this journey I turned a corner from heading due south to heading due east, and copped a gust of wind straight in my face at the same time that I was presented with the vision splendid, of the sunlit road extended, 10 kilometres ahead. It was a terrific vision such as you don't get closer to the coast. I was to get more accustomed to it as the ride went on. As I rolled on I realised that the farther portion of the road was not the road to Narembeen, but a gravel extension of this leg. In the event I turned south again with about 5km of the vision still ahead.

I had drink breaks at 2896 and 2910. I passed the sign saying 'Welcome to the Shire of Narembeen, Population 1290 (or something like that), Wheat and Sheep'. The first crop I saw was a herd of cattle who stared at me and galloped about in alarm at this unusual appearance of a middle-aged man on a home-made bike.

I reached Narembeen, 2922, at 11:13. The girl in the bar said my room wasn't quite ready and gave me a glass of iced water to drink while I was waiting. I finished this, then went and left the bike in front of my unit while I went to do my usual shopping for biscuits and milk and something for lunch and breakfast. When I came back to the bar she was waiting with my key, wondering where I had got to.

The unit was quite spacious but there were no flyscreens on the windows, so I had to close them and rely on the air-conditioner. The hot afternoon sun beat directly on the front of my unit. I had a cup of tea and a camembert cheese and a few biscuits, then had a sleep.

Later I showered and changed and walked round the town. I had developed a stomach-ache which got worse during the evening. It went all up my front and back, and my abdomen was tight and painful. In addition, I was starting to feel very depressed, which was the worst thing.

I made a few 'phone calls - Narembeen was the only town during this trip that had a credit-card 'phone, very convenient. I hate trying to have a proper conversation with people while groping for coins and feeding the machine. I decided also, though I didn't feel able to go any further at that time, to book the motel at Kondinin for the following night, and at Hyden for Sunday and Monday nights. I had decided a few days before starting this trip that it didn't make any sense to stay only one night at Hyden - I would need a full day to rest and do Wave Rock properly.

Having done this I had dinner in the pub (pepper steak with chips and salad) and settled down in my unit to watch TV and wait for the stomach-ache to go away. Normally I wouldn't have bothered with dinner but since I was on a ride I had to have proper meals no matter how I felt.

The pub was jumping that Friday night, with all the local young people drinking and smoking and playing pool and working the juke-box. It was a simple old pub with doors open wide directly onto the pavement and no signs telling you to do this and not to do that. I joined the crowd for a while before bed and felt better for it.

Reading at Narembeen: 2922. Km for day: 40. Aggregate: 89. Km/hr to Narembeen: 17.1. Km/day: 44.5.

DAY 3, Narembeen - Kondinin

SATURDAY 28 OCTOBER

I left Narembeen at 7:47. The morning was cool and the winds were light SE turning to S and SW. The land rose to some highish country between Narembeen and Kondinin, then fell gradually towards Kondinin. I had drink breaks at 2936, 2950 and 2964. At one point a large kangaroo bounded across the road in front of me and kept going into the scrub. It would have been taller than I. My stomach ache was a lot less and the ride, which I had been worried about because it was the longest (though still short by the standards of previous years) for the trip so far, was quite steady and straightforward. I arrived in Kondinin at 11:06, 2976.

The roadhouse motel was very nice, the best value-for-money of the trip, with a 'phone just a step away and the roadhouse shop and restaurant open 7 days a week till late. The whole thing was managed by capable, friendly people who clearly enjoyed their work.

The unit was spacious and well furnished, with openable, fly-screened windows at both ends, as well as the air-conditioner. There was colour TV and radio and a fridge.

I had a rest as usual, then showered and changed and walked round the town. It was just as well the roadhouse shop was there because in Kondinin the shops still shut with a bang at 12 noon on Saturday, so both the small Foodland co-ops were closed. There was in fact no-one about at all, except for two men having a desultory discussion in front of one of the closed Foodland stores.

The sun was hot and I started feeling depressed again. I returned to my unit and lay around listlessly with the radio tuned to the cricket match being played at the WACA in Perth, Pakistan vs WA. A couple of times I heard sounds from the sporting complex on the western side of the main road (I had tried the pool but it didn't open till November 1) and finally a yell that sounded like an appeal, followed by a burst of clapping, convinced me that a cricket match was being played nearby.

I made my way across the road and down the track and came to a big oval with the goal-posts still in place and a game of country cricket in progress. I made my way round the ground to a place where I could sit comfortably in front of the pavilion, in the shade, and enjoy the scene and the game for a couple of hours until they drew stumps.

The setting was beautiful and peaceful and the game proceeded, with big hits, some wickets falling and some good and bad fielding. The scoreboard clicked steadily behind me. As I sat there I felt peace and healing creep into my soul. I had no more trouble with depression after that afternoon which I will remember, not because anything in particular was special, but because of the way things came together - the game, the pleasant family atmosphere, the setting, the weather, the peace.

Shortly before six the two batsmen still in walked off the field, but the rest of the players and umpires stayed on - someone had suggested giving the boys a go. Two boys walked on, equipped for batting, and a couple of boys took over the bowling. They played for a few overs, with much encouragement and advice from the adults.

I went back and had a mixed grill with vegetables for dinner. Before that, while it was still daylight, I oiled the bike and checked it. I was a bit concerned about the back tyre - the rubber was perishing, with numerous cracks on the tread and the tyres. But I knew that the tyre wasn't very old, and the tread wasn't worn to the fabric underneath. There was nothing to be done about it, anyway. I had never had a blowout while on a 'ride', even with tyres much more worn, so I didn't worry any more about it. I had thought of putting on new tyres before the trip - it wouldn't have taken long, but when I decided to send the bike a day early I just left the old ones in place.

Reading at Kondinin: 2976. Km for day: 54. Aggregate: 143. Speed to Kondinin: 16.2 kph. Km/day: 47.7.

DAY 4, Kondinin - Hyden

SUNDAY 29 OCTOBER

I left Kondinin at 7:32. The first 8 km or so of the road to Hyden are mostly uphill. This is usually the case - inland towns are either near a river or for other reasons on relatively low-lying land. One can usually count on a climb to get out of a town and a downhill run for the last few km into the next one.

The wind was easterly, against me all the way. There was some cloud, but the day was mostly sunny with a maximum of about 29 in the part of the country where I was. The road from Kondinin was at first lined with trees, pleasant on a cool sunny morning. The country all the way was not as bleak as I had expected, but pleasant, with scrubland and woodland. The roads were generally in long straight stretches, with gentler climbs and descents than are found nearer the coast. But when you have a headwind for 60 km it is like having an extra set of brakes always half on, or like climbing a hill of varying steepness all the way.

I rested at 2992, 3007 and 3022. I hadn't been able to get the usual three-packs of fruit juice in Kondinin, but I had some left over from previous purchases and also some Power-Ade from the Kondinin Roadhouse. I passed the turnoff to Karlgarin at 3019 but didn't bother to go there and add 2 km to my journey - I didn't need anything and didn't know whether the place could supply anything, or was just the usual cluster of sheds.

The road ran along the railway for quite a distance, which made the going easier, because railways are built on flattened beds with hills and valleys evened out, and companion roads tend to share these. The last stop was just after the 15 km peg from Hyden, on a curving, sloping section of road.

I arrived in Hyden at 11:35, 3037. I rolled up to the front door, but this was the tavern part, not the accommodation part. I went around to the accomodation part but it took me some time to find a door open or anyone about. There was a man engaged in building activity who couldn't help me, then at last I found a boy working in the kitchen who checked me in and gave me my key, though he couldn't take any money.

I should have anticipated that on a Sunday morning, with the tavern closed and tourists usually arriving in the evening, there wouldn't be anyone about. But in the event it worked out all right.

I arrived with a great sense of relief and satisfaction, because a couple of days earlier it had seemed that this place was out of reach, and now here I was, in good shape, with no more big riding to do for nearly two days.

The room was dark, because the heavy curtains were drawn across the sliding windows (which had sliding flyscreens without defects). I turned on the light and was pleased with what I saw.

The ceiling was high, and there was a digital clock radio, a colour TV with remote control and an air conditioner mounted high on the wall with a sophisticated control panel hanging down. There was a fridge and plenty of furniture. The room and bathroom were spacious and clean. The bed was wide and comfortable. Everything worked. There were 47 units like this in the place, as well as the restaurant and tavern, and building work was going on at various points.

The existence of an international tourist attraction nearby of course accounted for the incongruous growth of this facility in a small (pop. 129) wheatbelt town on the way to nowhere. The next stop, some hundreds of km to the southeast, is Lake King (don't blink or you'll miss it), then there is a further long hike to Ravensthorpe and Esperance, but these places are more readily accessible via Wickepin and Lake Grace.

After a trip to the roadhouse for supplies I settled down for my well-earned rest with some tea and a packet of biscuits.

Later I looked round the town. The map showed that this was the end of the railway line here, and showed a railway station. No trace of this remained, only two somewhat buckled tracks coming together as one and terminating in a welter of dried-up wild oats. The sleepers were badly deteriorated along the single track, but the rails here and further up showed signs of use. Rails long disused are rusty and rough, but these were smooth and had a bit of shine on them. This was puzzling - the track didn't look fit for use by anything larger than a light tram, but there was no evidence that such a thing existed round here (though there is now between Northcliffe and Pemberton).

I wondered about the feasibility of a private rail service down here for the tourists, collecting them off the existing Prospector service at Merredin and running them down to Hyden in a couple of hours.

A couple of tourist coaches were in, so there was a good crowd for the buffet dinner, which was excellent, made more enjoyable because the nature of my holiday made it all right to 'pig out'.

Afterwards I watched TV, examined maps and wrote up the log for the day.

Reading at Hyden: 3037. Km for day: 61. Aggregate: 204. Km/day: 51. Km/hour to Hyden: 15.1.

DAY 5, Hyden - Wave Rock

MONDAY 30 OCTOBER

Rain had fallen during the night and north-westerly winds were blowing strongly. This worried me because having fought easterlies all the way from Kondinin, it looked as though the weather had changed and I was to fight westerlies all the way back. I felt discouraged and frustrated by this, and hoped that the weather would continue to change quickly and that I would have at least lighter southerly side-winds. As it turned out, the low pressure system had got stuck in the bight and I was to have headwinds until Thursday.

Anyway I had a leisurely morning, starting with a big buffet breakfast. Then I set off for Wave Rock, found a real tourist trap with a shop full of the usual hats and stuffed koalas at high prices, and had to pay $2 and go through a turnstile to see the Rock. I walked all over the area, enjoyed the Wave formation, the dam and catchment area. I took the walk trail to the Hippo's Yawn, climbed up through the hippo's throat and up the rock dome, walked that way back to the Wave. There is another less spectacular Wave formation in a little valley if you climb past the reservoir and up over the dome. A few showers fell from time to time and the flies were bad when I got out of the strong wind.

I paid $5 to look at the wildlife park. No-one else was there. The day was warm and muggy by this time and the animals looked a bit sad and lonely in their pens and cages, with flies buzzing around. I had a talk with a cocky who said 'Hello George' quite clearly. There was an eagle with a damaged wing, who had been rescued from beside the road and nursed back to health, but who couldn't fly properly. There was a Llama, some deer, a koala in a special enclosure which (according to a plaque) had been opened by some government minister a few years ago. There were kangaroos and emus in an enclosure which you could enter to walk among them. This enclosure abutted the boundary of the park, and a real big wild kangaroo was hanging around outside the fence, wanting to get in and talk to the caged ones.

There were two fat wombats fast asleep in a specially constructed home, and some small wallabies in another pen that could be entered by a spring gate.

Having spent about five hours wandering around the whole Wave Rock area I then considered visiting Mulka's cave and the humps, shown on the tourist mud map to be just up the road. But in fact the sign (which I hadn't noticed on my way in) said 18 km, which meant that I would have a 36km round trip. I decided to leave it for another time of better weather, better health and better planning. I was discouraged by the prospect of 61 km of westerly gales the next day and didn't want to add two hours and 36 km to this rest day. I wimped out and went back to the hotel for a sleep and the usual routine. Later I settled my bill and had a buffet dinner with the second lot of tourists, who seemed to be mostly European this evening.

The bill came to $155, comprising 2 X $48 for the room, 2 X $23 for 2 buffet dinners and $13 for the one buffet breakfast.

Reading at end of day: 3047. 10km for day. Aggregate: 214. Km/day: 43

DAY 6, Hyden - Kondinin

TUESDAY 31 OCTOBER

I didn't have the buffet breakfast, just the usual biscuits and cake and milk before an early start. This was to be a challenge day. The winds were indeed from the WNW, gusting up to 20 knots, the sky was overcast and the morning cool. I left Hyden at 7:21 and took drink breaks at 3063, 3078 and 3093. Because I had expected a hard time it didn't seem so bad, I just took it steadily, up and down the gentle slopes and along the long straight stretches of road, where you can see 5 or 10 km ahead. The maps told me that the last 8km into Kondinin were mostly downhill, so when I was 15km out and making good time, realising that I could make it in under 4 hours I started to push hard. I rolled up to the roadhouse motel at 11:17, 3108. I had made it in 3 hours 56 minutes, 7 minutes less than the forward journey, with stronger headwinds, though a cooler day. I went into the roadhouse, said 'Here I am again!" got into the same unit I had left on Sunday morning and though I ached a bit felt very relieved and relaxed, feeling that the hard part of the trip was over and it was going to be straightforward from now on as I headed back to Perth.

Later I walked up to the pool to try to get a swim, but although the pool was ready it didn't open till 10.30 am on the next day, November 1. All country pools open on November 1. I looked forward to having a swim further up the track.

I shopped, made 'phone calls and went to visit Kondinin cottage, a restored house built originally from mud, stones, rough timber and iron in the 1920's, about the time that many of these small towns were being built in the rush to populate and farm the country after World War I. No-one actually lives in it permanently, but it is occupied daily by a family who come from a farm, open it up and show it to tourists, and sell antiques, books, china, furniture and so on. I had a good chat with the lady, and left half an hour after their official closing time of 5 pm, but she said she didn't mind, she had had a good chat. I didn't buy anything except a couple of postcards. I explained that I was on my bike, and her daughter was interested in that, what is it like riding a bike such distances, how long does it take, what about drinks, and so on.

Dinnertime brought the first of three miracles on this trip. I sat down in the roadhouse restaurant and looked at the menu, wondering what sturdy country fare I might try this time. I looked at the entrees and saw 'Fresh Oysters - half doz. $7, one doz. $12.' When the waitress arrived I said "You haven't really got that, have you?" "I'll just check", she said, and went into the kitchen. She came back to announce "Yup! We goddem!" I ordered half a dozen, and they were too, not frozen or anything, really fresh and delicious in their shells, on a bed of fresh chopped lettuce, with some sauce, a slice of lemon and fresh brown bread. I didn't get around to asking how this was achieved in a small wheatbelt town (pop. 475) a long way from the coast, in a region where 'fish' is a card-game rather than a food.

The day ended in its usual leisurely way with TV, poring over maps and writing the log.

Reading at Kondinin (on the way back): 3108. Km for day: 61. Aggregate: 275. Km/day: 46. Speed to Kondinin: 15.1 kph.

DAY 7, Kondindin - Corrigin

WEDNESDAY 1 NOVEMBER

Rain had fallen during the night. There didn't seem any need to rush for an early start since this wasn't a challenge day, the wind wasn't going to get any stronger and might back a bit more southerly as the day went on. I had decided to go to Corrigin via the Pioneer Cemetery and Kondinin Lake. Tourist brochures show this lake as a shining expanse of water with a yacht on it but of course I'm a local and I knew it would only be that good under exceptional conditions.

The winds were fresh from the west and the skies threatened more rain. I left Kondinin at 8:43, heading south out of town instead of north, the usual route to Corrigin, which would have taken me back part of the way I had travelled from Narembeen the previous week.

I found the Pioneer Cemetery and spent some time there. It was a nice peaceful place with a nice feeling. There was a fence, a road for the corteges to come in and plots laid out in rows. Some of the graves had their original stones and markers, many were not marked, but this was in the process of being remedied, presumably by the local shire, who had carefully discovered who was lying in each plot and were preparing roughly engraved, sometimes misspelt brass markers for all the unmarked graves. One of these marked the grave of an Italian prisoner of war who was 'accidently' killed in 1944 while working on a local farm. There were numerous children's graves, some only a few weeks old, others a few months or years. One grave contained Hannah Oborne, who was born in 1884 and died in 1937. I felt that she was much loved when she was alive.

I resumed my journey and looked out for the facilities for the recreational use of the lake. I never found these. Despite the road being shown as sealed on the map, I ran onto some gravel which went on and on. It wasn't bad gravel but I had a fair way round to get back to the main Corrigin road and worried about having a longer and more difficult trip than I had expected.

I never saw much water or any recreational facilities. The map told me that about 14km out of Kondinin I should be making a sharp right turn north to get back to the main road. The sun finally peeped through long enough to suggest that I was heading southwest, rather than west. I started to worry when I passed a sign saying 'Shire of Kulin'.

At 3121, 13 km out of Kondinin, I came to a T-junction. The distance was OK but I had been expecting a crossroads. The north-bound road had a sign saying some sheep station, suggesting that this was the driveway into private property rather than a public road. I made a drink stop and got out the map. I was attacked by a swarm of flies, the backpack fell upside down, spilling its contents, and I swore a bit as the map blew away. I retrieved and studied it and worked out a theory, which ultimately proved to be correct, about what had gone wrong.

I had been so intent on staying on the gravel and wondering how much of it lay ahead that I had missed a fork in the road, where I should have turned right. Roads often look different in reality than they do on maps. Often, a fork will be shown as a main road running on and a side road going off to right or left, but when you get there the sense is different. In this case the main run of the road had been to the left, not to the right as suggested by the map, and the way I wanted to go would have required an actual right turn instead of just following the road. I had been looking to avoid a left fork and of course none appeared.

Anyway I turned north, up this sheep-station drive, which I soon realised was in fact a public gravel road. At 3125 I saw a truck approaching from the west, trailing dust, telling me I was coming to a gravel cross-roads. When I reached this I stopped again, got out the map and saw that this was where I should have come to and turned right if I had been following my intended route. I wasn't going to head back east to see the lake. If my theory was correct, the main road should appear at 3130. I kept going north, then at 3127 a heavy rain squall rushed in from the northwest. Fortunately, before I had gone too far, I came to one of those sheds that farmers have at the driveway entrance to their properties. I crossed the road and sheltered in there till the rain stopped.

I got on my way and had a bit of a climb, then a descent, and there indeed was the shining bitumen road, about to cut in at 3130. The gravel had been turned to mud by the rain and the pedals were slippery, and as I turned thankfully onto the bitumen a westerly gale sprang up and tried to push me backwards, and another heavy shower soaked me through this time, no shelter being available.

I passed a peg saying CO 30 at 3132. Only 30km to Corrigin didn't seem much; I was on the right road, a sealed road and bike and body were still working. The rain and wind eased off and I had a bit of a downhill run. I was cold and felt as if I had nothing on because my thin cycling clothes were wet. At 3136 as the sun shone briefly I had a drink stop, then at 3137 the rain started again. Again I was lucky to find a shed. This one had three kids' bikes in it and smelt doggy, but was roomy enough for a fourth bike and rider. The rain poured down for a long time. Rivers of mud flowed past the shed. I decided just to wait.

Eventually the rain cleared and I got on my way. The road climbed around a hill and turned from due west to NNW. It was still in my face but mainly across me, and the going got easier. I took another drink break at 3150 and finally reached Corrigin at 1:08, 3162, just as I was about to get wet from another shower. My unintended detour into the shire of Kulin had added about 5.5 km of mud and gravel to my trip.

The Windmill Motel was next to the roadhouse, on the main road in and out of town. It was quite nice, though at $48 it was as dear as the Hyden Motel, more expensive than the Kondinin motel and not as good as either. But it was all right. I had to get a globe from one of the other lights to put in the bedside light, which flopped about. The people who owned it were friendly and helpful enough.

The wind was still strong. My right knee was hurting and stiff. I had tea and biscuits and a rest, then went down to the pool. It was open, it was only a dollar, it was open, there was no-one else there except a boy who didn't stay long. I jumped off the high board a number of times and swam a number of lengths, slowly. This was a most enjoyable and beneficial experience. On the way back to the motel I was walking quickly and freely with no pain.

I looked round the town, did a bit of shopping and booked the Quairading Hotel for the next day. The woman asked me if I wanted a bathroom in the room, and I said yes. Neither the hotel nor the motel at Quairading are listed in the Accommodation Guide, and I could not find the motel in the 'phone book and the map showed it a bit of a way out of town, going east.

I looked at the old Corrigin Hotel, where I stayed one night in 1962 when I used to go and spend time in the country with friends who used to travel about. On that occasion the temperature on my hotel windowsill was 26F, or -3C, in the morning.

I had ham steak and mushroom soup for dinner in the motel restaurant. The TV was on so I could see that the weather was going to become more helpful to me in the days ahead.

The second night in Hyden I had started the habit of a walk just before going to bed, to stop the jumpy-leg problem. I have Valium for it but was worrying about having to take a Valium each night of the trip in order to get any sleep. I never used to have to carry on like that. I wanted a non-chemical remedy to work, and this walk seemed to. It is interesting for a city-dweller to walk around a small country town at night. There is no-one about and the background silence is so deep that you can hear distant animals and birds and hear the faint humming of the lonely street-lamps.

Reading at Corrigin: 3162. Km for day: 54. Aggregate: 329. Km/day: 47. Km/hour to Corrigin: 12.1. This pathetic speed was of course calculated on total elapsed time, including one long sight-seeing stop, two lost stops, three drink stops and two long rain stops. When I was actually moving I was going well enough, considering the headwind.

DAY 8, Corrigin - Quairading

THURSDAY 2 NOVEMBER

The day was still overcast with some showers possible. The wind had at last backed SSW. This promised an easier day, though it was to be the longest yet at 64 km. Rain had decreased to localised showers, and in the country these can be seen coming a long way off, and the likelihood of avoiding them assessed, on the basis of your own velocity and the fact that the squalls travel from north-west to southeast at 20 - 30 kph. I had fun dodging the showers, and was successful. I left Corrigin at 8:00. I had drink stops at 3180, 3196 and 3212. My gear adjustment had changed during the ride, I had had the back wheel off once, so the chain came off at 3215 while I was trying to get into 'easiest'. I got my hands black.

The wind backed southerly and over a long straight stretch of road going due north I had a perfect tailwind. This brought another problem - the warm weather and rain of the past week had helped fly breeding, and as I rode along I could not escape a swarm of flies. Until then I had always been able to escape the flies while riding, due to contrary or side winds. This was going to be a problem during the days to come when I would have even better tail winds as they moved around to the east and I continued to head west. I resolved to buy some insect repellent in Quairading, and include it in my luggage for future rides. My luggage has grown ever heavier since 1977 as different things have happened and I have had to include things to counteract them. A broken chain in 1978 led to my carrying a chain-unlinker and some spare links. Broken spokes on the cluster side of the back wheel in 1985, 1988 and 1994 required me to start carrying a bundle of spokes, a cluster remover and the heavy spanner, and fortunately I have always been able to find a piece of pipe to add leverage. The crankshaft working loose caused me to need the socket wrench as well. The luggage weighs more than the bike.

For 10 kilometres near Quairading I headed due west, feeling unaccustomed relief at the headwind. I reached Quairading at 11:50, 3226.

The hotel was a bit disappointing. The man said that they normally charged $50 for this room, that had its own bathroom, because the rooms with bathrooms were 'doubles', but since I was on my own he would only charge me $40. This was the same as the excellent Kondinin motel, but this room wasn't up to that standard. There was no TV, only the connections for it. That wasn't a problem in the end because Room 1 had a TV, and was open, so in the evening when it was clear that no-one would be occupying that room I pinched the TV and a chair to put it on, replacing them in the morning.

The room was small; it had two beds, but there wouldn't have been much room to move with two people. There were no flyscreens, the bathroom extractor fan didn't work, there were no hooks or rails. But at least, in a common area, there was cereal, bread and other things for guests to help themselves at will at any time they wanted to have breakfast. I put my milk and drinks in the fridge, labelled.

I had a rest, then looked at my Quairading town map to find the swimming pool. I went down there and had another excellent swim. The diving board wasn't so high, though.

I showered, dressed and went to the co-op. I did have a look for some tyres, but there were none of the right size to fit my bike. I was still checking the back tyre each day, and it worried me a bit, but there were no actual bald spots, just a lot of small cracks in the rubber. I assumed the canvas would be all right. I bought some new headphones for my radio - the $2 show special 'phones had failed on the right channel. I also bought the insect repellent and the usual sustenance.

I looked around the town, saw the Anglican church rectory in whose predecessor I stayed in 1957 and the area where I used to play with the other kids.

As I was making my 'phone calls - I had decided to make the short trip to Beverley the next day, and the long hike over gravel to Mundaring the next, a fateful decision as it turned out - a motorbike roared past, then back again, then back again. It made the calls difficult. When I got out of the 'phone box I walked down to the road junction to check the signs for the York/Beverley road, and noticed that the man riding up and down was hangin' ten on high handlebars, that he was wearing black leather and that there were a couple of dozen like him and that a policeman was parked beside the road watching them all. Indeed, the Coffin Cheaters were in town and were all gathered outside the hotel. I hoped they weren't planning all to stay. I wanted a peaceful night.

I went in to dinner and had a prawn cocktail which was quite nice and fresh, and chose the 'Tropical Chicken Delight' which turned out to be a hard, dry, overcooked (maybe pre-cooked and frozen) breast of chicken with a slice of pineapple and of kiwi fruit on top of it. As an afterthought they brought out a basket with 'a bun for you'. But the service was friendly. During dinner a prolonged, fading roar followed by peace suggested that the 'Cheaters had decided to move on.

The day ended with TV, paperwork and batting the mozzies and moths that managed to get past the lace curtain I had stuffed in the narrow space by which I had opened the screenless window.

Reading at Quairading: 3226. Km for day: 64. Aggregate: 393. Km/day: 49. Speed to Quairading: 16.7 kph.

DAY 9, Quairading - Beverley

FRIDAY 3 NOVEMBER

The Miracles of Beverley

I enjoyed the do-it-yourself breakfast in the hotel and left Quairading at 8:00. The morning was cool and sunny with light SE winds. This day should have been a 'doddle' but I found it unexpectedly hard and slow, as though I still had headwinds or was going forever uphill. I was now in range of the ABC-FM transmitter which is located nearby, and at one stage was delighted with Handel's 'Zadoc the Priest' in full stereo. It was a week since I had had a musical 'fix' so I had a strong emotional reaction to this music, which is one of my favourites. The chords and harmonies, the shifts from major to minor and the final climax are always very moving.

I rested at 3241, 3255 and 3268. At 3262 the pedal crank started to work loose from the shaft. This has been an intermittent problem since I had to replace the whole thing in early 1995. I am reluctant to bang it on too firmly because I need to get it off sometimes. Anyway, it might still work loose. With the socket wrench I tightened the nut, it was fixed in a minute and I got on my way.

The chain came off again during a too-quick gear change to 'fastest' at 3271. I got my hands black again.

I reached Beverley at 11:23, 3279. The room in the old hotel had no bathroom or flyscreens or TV, but it was only $18 and it was clean and freshly painted. The shared bathroom was right next door, and I had easy access to the back upstairs verandah, where I put my bike.

I bought some drinks, breakfast food and barley-sugar for the next day's possibly gruelling effort, put my drinks and perishables in the fridge in the common area, had lunch and a rest, then showered and changed and strolled out for the usual routine. On the way out I checked the back tyre again, to find that it had actually split and the inner tube was bulging through the crack. This was the first miracle - that it had got me to Beverley without blowing out on that rough road. The road was sealed but many sealed country roads are surfaced with large sharp stones, and because the roads are little used it takes years for the surfaces to smooth down.

If I had taken the road to York, adding an extra 15km to my journey, that tube would certainly have blown out and left me with either a long and difficult walk or the humiliating acceptance of a lift, had there been any vehicles and had any of them been willing to take me.

The tube must have been within a few hundred metres of blowing out. There had been only one car on the road since the Beverley turnoff, 26 km back. I could have been stuck out there with a long walk and no option.

I checked the front tyre as well. The tread was all right but the wall was weakened so that the tube was starting to bulge through in many places right around.

The state of the tyres explained why what should have been an easy fast ride had been so sluggish and difficult. The state of the front one also explained why the odometer seemed to be reading low all the way from Quairading, even though it had been absolutely accurate when checked against 5km posts on the first two days of the ride, and nothing had changed.

I knew I could go no further on the back tyre, and felt that my ride had come to an end, or at least to a major delay. I quickly went to the local Co-op and looked at their stock of tyres. They had none of my size, 27 X 1.25, in stock. But they said that the Beverley Trading Company might have some. This was the second miracle - that there were two shops in that small town stocking bike tyres, and that, yes, they had exactly two tyres of the right size in stock. They were 27 inch, the right diameter, but a bit smaller than the tubes, at 1 and one eighth inch wide. But I decided they could be used and bought them.

I decided to use a new thornproof tube for the back wheel - I had one with me, there were no right-size tubes in the shops. The old tube showed wear where it had been blistering through the tyre. I got the tyre and tube on and pumped up in 10 minutes.

The lady who ran the hotel kept turning up. She appeared in a dressing gown with a towel round her head and told me that had she known my tyres were worn out, she would have got me some more when she had gone in to York that afternoon. Had I checked the tyres as soon as I arrived in Beverley, and had it occurred to me to go whining to the hotel management about them, this would have been helpful. I thanked her and told her I had managed to get the last two tyres of the right size in the whole of Beverley, and that I was grateful for my luck, which I didn't deserve. In future I will always fit new tyres just before a trip, and get only proper quality ones.

The front wheel was the problem. It was a newly built light-weight strong alloy wheel I had ordered specially, and they don't make things like that in widths greater than 1 inch. I had got a 1.25 inch tyre and tube on it with no trouble, but trying to get a 1 and one eighth tyre and a 1.25 inch thornproof tube onto a 1 inch wheel caused me to puncture the tube. I tried again with the old but still sound tube off the back wheel and punctured it, too. Finally I got a new, thin cheap tube that I had with me and put it on, with the tyre. I pumped it up hard and quickly went for my walk, 'phone calls and look round the town. I booked the Travellers' Rest Motel in Mundaring for the next day. I had been mulling over this ambitious scheme for a few days and knew that I would end up doing it.

Before going in to dinner I checked the tyres again - they were both still hard, as they were all evening. The dinner was soup, steak with Mexican sauce and sweets. It was not quite as good as last time in Beverley (1989) but still good, and the bottomless percolated coffee was excellent.

The lady told me that I would have no trouble making an early start because the other guests were truckies who had a similar need. They went to bed early, leaving me in charge of the TV in the guest lounge. I enjoyed the Friday programs while fixing numerous holes in the two punctured tubes with all my supply of patches. This meant that for the next day's hike I would have one new tube (a special self-repairing, puncture-proof one) plus two repaired ones in case the ones on the bike went flat under stress, due to damage by me. but they were still hard when I took my walk round the town before going to bed.

Reading at Beverley: 3279. Aggregate: 446. Km for day: 53 (expected 54 - worn tyre problem?). Km/day: 50. Speed to Beverley: 15.8 kph.

DAY 10, Beverly - Mundaring

SATURDAY 4 NOVEMBER

In 1989 (see 1989 ride story) I went from Midland to Woorooloo on Day 1, then from Woorooloo to Beverley on Day 2, going by the gravel West Talbot Road through the State forest, connecting with the Talbot and Waterhatch Roads. This was supposed to be a short cut, shorter than going via York and making the whole ride (after Day 2) easier than if I had stopped at York on Day 2.

I wanted today to do this short cut in reverse, to see how much shorter it really was. On reaching the Great Southern Highway, however, I was going to head west for Mundaring.

I had another self serve breakfast, all the cereal, toast and jam you can eat, with the truckies, and heard a dirty truckie joke.

It seems three boys were discussing what they would do when they grew up. One said "I'm going to be a doctor, because my uncle's a doctor, and he's got a BMW!" The second boy demurred. "No- I'm going to be a lawyer, because my uncle's a lawyer, and he's got a Rolls Royce!" The third boy nonplussed the other two by saying, "I'm going to grow hair all over my body!" "What?" "Why?" "Because my sister's got just a bit of hair down there, and she's got a BMW, a Rolls Royce, and a yacht!"

The lady who ran the hotel suddenly appeared again and chided me for not having left early as I had intended. I explained that this was early for me, the earliest of the trip so far. She waved me goodbye as I rolled off. I left Beverley at 7:16. The morning was cool and the wind perfect, a south-easterly. I was well prepared with a number of drinks and plastered with sunscreen and insect repellent. I had a climb getting out of Beverley, then the going was better. About 11 km out of Beverley I passed a sign saying "The Lakes 38 --" It was an old sign and the units of distance were obliterated. I thought about this as I rode on. It couldn't be km, it must be miles. So that made about 61 km. So the total distance from Beverley to The Lakes must be 72km. Going round the long way, through York, would have been 80 km. So I had committed myself to (I estimated) 40 km of gravel track to save only 8km of total distance. It made no sense, but maybe the old sign was wrong, the road had changed in the quarter-century since it was probably painted.

I did 21km in the first hour, then took a drink break. The tyres were still hard. I had only had one drink. The task looked easier. I had been doing a nice 30 kph when I hit the gravel, 20 km out. I had to get off and walk much of the first 3km. I took my drink break after 1 km of gravel. I did some calculations. If I had to walk the entire gravel portion of the route (since I had done it the other way in 1989, I knew this would not be so) what would be my ETA at the Great Southern Highway? This started off at nearly 6 pm, but as the ride went on it pulled steadily back through the day and became ever more acceptable. I felt that I had won already. Somehow these challenge rides are easier than the easier rides, because I have a better mental attitude before and during them.

I took another drink break at 3315, at a junction that enabled me to check my position on the map. I saw that if instead of following West Talbot Road to its junction with GSH, I turned right with 4km of gravel to go and travelled a bit of sealed road to GSH, I would add about 1km to my journey, but 5km of sealed road was a fair swap for 4km of gravel.

There was not much traffic. What there was went too fast and kicked up a lot of dust and stones. There was a tractor. I got off the road entirely for that, and we waved at each other. I had to tighten the pedal crank on the shaft again at 3324. I took another drink break at 3330. Finally at 3337, after 38km of gravel, I found the sealed road and turned right. The total gravel would have been 42 km, close to my estimate.

I had a stiff climb, then a descent. I met GSH at 3339 and took a downhill run at 60kph in top gear. It was 14 km to The Lakes and another 15 km to Mundaring, but I felt as though it was over. I reached The Lakes at 11:52, 3353.

Thus the distance from Beverley to The Lakes via this 'short cut' was 74 km. Going via York, according to the distances on the map, it would have been 80 km. So I had saved 6km of total distance by going a route that had 38 km of gravel, when I could have had sealed road all the way, as well as a major town at which tyres and tubes could have been bought and where I could have stopped if necessary. It made no sense and I will not be doing this 'short cut' again until it is all sealed.

I made a 'phone call and had a leisurely lunch, then left The Lakes at 12.31. The Great Eastern Highway is a bit of a shock after quiet country roads, but there wasn't too much traffic on this Saturday afternoon. I passed through Sawyer's Valley and reached the Traveller's Rest Motel at 1:14, 3368. The room was enormous, complete with kitchen and gas stove. The rooms at Quairading and Beverley would have fitted into one corner of it. The rate was $50 Friday to Sunday, or $45 Monday to Thursday. There was cereal in the room and they provided fresh home-grown eggs, bread and milk for your breakfast. Very reasonable, but I was the only guest.

I had a swim in the small but refreshing guests' pool, then had a rest, a shower and change and went to hunt for the rare orchids that I had discovered in 1993. I found a few, but they weren't open.

I took a stroll into Mundaring later for some Chinese food later. It was a longish walk but I had cycled enough. There was no need for any more shopping.

Km for day: 89. Aggregate: 535. Km/day: 53.5. Speed to The Lakes: 16.1 kph. Speed from The Lakes to Mundaring: 20.9. Speed for entire trip, including rests: 14.9 kph.

DAY 11, Mundaring - Midland

SUNDAY 5 NOVEMBER

The morning was hot and humid, with strong northerlies shifting northwesterly. It seemed that I had timed the big push from Beverley just right. One day later and it would have been very difficult - hot and humid with direct strong headwinds, to go with the gravel and long distance.

I was in no hurry this morning so after sleeping in and having a leisurely breakfast I went to look for the orchids again. This time I found three that were in full bloom - very gratifying.

I left Traveller's Rest Motel at 10:39, 3368.6. After a few ups and downs I came to the crest of Greenmount hill at 3378.1. I rolled down it at speeds up to 65 kph. I could have done more but for the strong headwind. I gripped the bike firmly and concentrated on that narrow strip on the left of the road where I wanted to stay. I passed Darling Range Lodge, where I believe Greenmount Hill ends, at 3383.9, and met the Roe Highway traffic lights, my first traffic lights for 550 km, at 3384. I got a bit lost getting to Midland Station, which I reached at 11:18, 3387, with a few minutes to the next train. The 1995 ride ended here as I got the train all the way back to Cottesloe.

Reading at Midland: 3387. Km for day: 19. Aggregate: 554 km. Km/day: 50. Km per full riding day (excluding the Wave Rock day and this last run down to Midland) 62. Speed to Midland: 30 kph.

Assessment: A successful and memorable ride with some bad luck with headwinds compensated by a couple of miracles.

Best overnight stop: Kondinin. Worst: Quairading (though not too bad). High point: Cricket in Kondinin. Low point: Bellyache in Narembeen.

Charles A Pierce 1995

Do you have questions about bicycle touring in Western Australia's SouthWest? You're welcome to ask Charles!

Email Charles

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