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Bicycle Tours in South Western Australia:Bunbury - Augusta - Cottesloe8 days, 588 km The aim of this trip was to return to the places frequented on the early rides, 1977 - 1981, only this time to do it better, faster, with less hardship and fewer mishaps, drawing on the experience gained over the years. I have usually visited Augusta each leap-year since 1980, but in 1996 I had the opportunity to undertake the big Rocky Gully ride, so put off Augusta for 1997.
PRELIMINARY On Tuesday, October 21 I took the bike on the train to City train station, then took the afternoon Australind Express to Bunbury, to stay the night in the Bunbury Motel and start the ride from there early the next morning. I first tried this in 1992, when the new, faster Australind began evening services. Previously, The Australind had run only once a day, in the morning. It used to take more than three hours to get to Bunbury, arriving just before one o'clock, so that I had to flog the 77 km to Dunsborough against the usual fresh afternoon SW headwind and get there not long before sunset, feeling tired and not well set up for the rest of the trip. In 1992 I was able to start earlier but because the bike had to be taken down separately by truck I had to walk 2 km to the truck depot carrying the luggage and was not able to start riding until after nine. This year I booked my seat and the bike space on the Australind a month ahead of time so that I could have the bike with me at the motel and start from there, earlier and more rested. The Australind arrived late, after eight o'clock at night. I rode my bike about a kilometre along the footpath to the traffic lights at Forrest and Blair, on the other side of which the Motel sign welcomed me.
DAY 1, Bunbury - DunsboroughWEDNESDAY 22 OCTOBER 1997 I left The Bunbury Motel ($48, quite nice but couldn't open a window) at 7.46 on a mild morning with light north-easterly winds. The odometer read 3800. The wind was unprecedented - I hoped it would hold all the way but didn't expect that it would. I rested and took a drink at 3830, at a wall marking the entrance to the local sand mine. I had intended to stop at Capel, but I was unaware that the Bussell highway had been re-aligned to bypass Capel. I ignored the unfamiliar signs that said 'Capel Drive' and kept bowling on, looking for the town. At 30 km out of Bunbury I knew that something was wrong, remembered the signs and realised what it was. I resolved to detour through Capel on the way back, for the traditional stop at Colroy's Tearooms. The 5km pegs showed that the odometer was reading about 1-2% high. This wasn't much and I didn't make corrections for it, since it wasn't enough to cause errors. Calibrating the odometer is an important first-day job. I believe the error was caused by the fact that the road is measured along the centre, whereas I was travelling on the extreme left of it while it gradually curved around from almost due south to WNW. I didn't stop again for a rest until Busselton, 3853, at 10:18. The wind was still from the east and I felt comfortable. Since my last ride in this area the Bussell Highway had also been re-routed south of the Ludlow pine forest. The old stretch of highway is now sign-posted as an 'alternative route to Busselton' which I didn't take because I thought it meant the route through Wonnerup, which I usually take on the way back. 2 hours and 32 minutes to Busselton was a new Personal Best. I set off again at 10:34, rested for the last time at 3865, Siesta Park, and arrived at Dunsborough at 11:46, 4 hours flat from Bunbury, a new Personal Best. My room wasn't quite ready so I did my shopping, booked the next night's accomodation at Margaret River and bought some cakes for lunch. Because of my early arrival there was time for a rest before going to Meelup Beach. Dunsborough has expanded greatly to the NW in the last 20 years and the old Naturaliste Terrace suddenly cuts out so that you have to get onto the new wide road, an extension of Seymour Road which used to be a minor town road. I was anxious not to miss the turn-off to Meelup Beach, but this is still clearly sign-posted, 4 km out of Dunsborough. A few hundred metres out of Dunsborough I had to turn back because I was still half asleep and had forgotten my pump and the back-pack that contained a towel and a spare tube. I reached Meelup Beach, 6.5 km from the Dunsborough Motel. It has not been developed much in the last 5 years and retains its special charm and beauty. I spent a long time swimming in the calm, clear water. I was so happy there that I was sad, savouring each moment, each sensation, each sight and sound, against the day when I won't be able to get there any more or won't be able to swim if I do. I swam on my back underwater and saw the reflection of my healthy body in the water surface above, thinking of a time ahead when this body will be old and halt and not able to ride and swim and run. I climbed the steep hill away from the beach, pausing at the lookout and also to walk through the national park looking for orchids. I found one, with violet petals, not blue. The wildflowers generally were most abundant and varied. Back in Dunsborough I showered, washed my bike clothes and changed, made some 'phone calls then bought dinner at River Rooster - half a chicken and chips were on special at $4.50. While I was waiting a boy came in and asked to buy 25 cents worth of gravy, but he was refused. I noticed that the man in charge of the shop was chopping herbs, presumably to make stuffing for the chickens. However it wasn't as nice as Red Rooster stuffing which probably comes in 100 kg sacks. Back in my room I watched the in-house video 'Dante's Peak'. Final reading at Dunsborough: 3892km. Day's ride: 92km. Speed to Dunsborough: 19.2 kph (1992: 14.3 kph. 1988: 13.9 kph). Speed to Busselton: 20.9 kph (1992: 17.5 kph).
DAY 2, Dunsborough - Margaret RiverTHURSDAY 23 OCTOBER The morning was fine with light SE - SW winds. I was starting the hilly portion of the ride, when wind velocity is of secondary importance unless it be extreme. The first 4 km out of Dunsborough up Caves Road is all uphill, but I knew this and it didn't bother me. I remember bowling down that hill in 1978 with a westerly gale behind me, rain pouring down and the then newly made road being slick with sand, loose bluemetal and water. I nearly ran off the edge a couple of times. I decided to look at Yallingup Cave. I first saw this in 1978, never having seen a limestone cave before. Since then I have seen all the caves more than once and the impact isn't as great but the experience is still worth while. I reached the turnoff at 3900. The cave has been renamed the Gjilgi Cave and has a big cafe and other structures and it costs $8 to get in. It is a self-guided tour where you walk around at your own pace. I had a drink and got back to Caves Road at 11 am, 3902 and went up and down hills through pretty woodland and pasture and vineyards until my final drink stop at Willyabrup Road, 3921. I reached Carter's Road, turned left and pulled up outside the Margaret River Hotel at 1:25, 3942. The Margaret River hotel charges $75 a night for a very ordinary unit. The same unit, same standard, cost $20 in 1984 and $50 in 1988, so the rate of price inflation has at least slowed down. Late in the day I checked at the Captain Freycinet motel and they had nice units for $58, but I couldn't book one for my return on Saturday because there were no vacancies. I will stay there next time. I shopped, booked the Augusta Motel for the next night, had lunch and rested before setting off for Gnarabup Beach, the closest decent beach to Margaret River. The odometer read 3943 when I left, 3954 when I arrived at the beach and 3965 when I got back to Margaret River. On the hilly return journey I left the beach at 5:11 and reached the motel at 5:47. I had a lovely swim at this very pleasant beach but the water was rather brown and turbid due to the proximity of the mouth of the river. The first time I visited this beach it was later in the year and the river was not flowing so strongly. A bedraggled dog ran up and down the beach and in and out of the water barking frantically the whole time I was there. Maybe it had been abandoned at the beach or maybe its owner had gone into the water and never come out. Who knows? Who cares? I showered and changed and went to Mama's Oriental Diner to get satay chicken and sweet and sour fish. It was very nice and the serves were generous, crammed into the plastic container with no obligation to take any noodles or rice. I ate it, then did some sewing, watching 'Michael Collins' the in-house video for the evening. There is often sewing to be done on these rides - the clothes, the bags, the saddle-cover. Reading at Margaret River: 3965. Day: 73m. Cumulative 165km, 82.5km/day. Speed Yallingup to Margaret River 16.6 kph.
DAY 3, Margaret River - AugustaFRIDAY 24 OCTOBER THE SMALL MIRACLE OF MAMMOTH CAVE The morning was cool with a light SE wind. I left the motel at 7:48 but wasted time and distance by missing the obvious road, Forrest Road (because I thought it was Wallcliffe Road, but that doesn't become its name until further down) that I wanted and having to go back. I turned into Forrest Road, then left into Station Road, thence into Clarke Road and Boojidup Road which joins Caves Road. Actually it would have been quicker to go straight down the Bussell Highway and turn right into Boojidup Road, but that option didn't exist when I first used the Boojidup Road to get to the caves. I intended to look at Mammoth Cave and wanted to get there in plenty of time for the 9:30 tour. I had come down a particularly steep hill at high speed and wasn't quick and smooth enough changing gears to go up the equally steep climb after the dip. I heard the tell-tale snap of a spoke breaking. I looked down and the back wheel was wibbling as it does when the breakage of a spoke puts it out of true. This threatened to become a nuisance because I was some way from Augusta and couldn't be sure that I could find there the one thing I don't carry on these rides - a piece of heavy pipe to apply leverage to the spanner, to get the cluster off. I didn't know if the broken spoke was on the cluster side but they usually are. The longer I rode with one broken spoke the more likely it became that others would break because of the stress. A few kilometres later I reached Mammoth Cave, 8:48, 3981, and checked the spoke. It was on the cluster side. But as I approached the cave I found that they were doing structural work on and inside the front entrance, as a result of which some lengths of pipe were lying about, exactly the right size for the leverage I wanted. This was the small miracle. Every time I have broken a spoke on a ride I have managed to get hold of a piece of pipe, which I only need for five seconds. One day my luck will run out. I could break a spoke way out in empty country, ride on, break some more and become immobilised with no help within reach. I will have to come up with a better answer to this problem, that would relieve me of having to carry the heavy big spanner. The building work at the cave obliged the touring party to enter it through the back way, which meant going up a steep path then down many stairs into a big hole in the ground, showing evidence that it is a collapsed portion of the original cave, as with Lake Cave. On the way up to the back entrance I saw many broad-petalled pink orchids. I didn't remember the last tour I did of Mammoth Cave but it seemed that there was more of it available for tours, and I enjoyed going in the back way. After the tour I got the spoke fixed in about ten minutes, reinflated the tyre and had a drink while I waited to see if it would go down again - wrenching the tyre and tube away from the rim can damage the tube if care is not taken. It stayed hard so I got going again at 10:34, counting the kilometres rather anxiously at first but later more relaxed as nothing else went wrong with the bike. Nothing else went wrong for the entire trip. I didn't even need to pump the tyres. Light drizzle fell as I left the cave and persisted much of the way to Augusta, turning into quite a heavy shower as I approached the town. I rested at 3999, turned up Bushby Road to get to the Bussell Highway and arrived in Augusta at 12:53, 4019. When they saw that I was on a bicycle they changed my unit to a ground floor one, No. 44. It was on the other side of the road, in a big new area of two storey blocks of units. I sheltered until the rain stopped, then went over to my unit. It was much nicer than the Margaret River one at two thirds of the price. As always, I felt very happy to be in Augusta. I went to shop and get lunch, then rested. Relieved of luggage I set off for Matthew Flinders lookout and Cape Leeuwin. There were six kilometres from the motel to the lookout, then 2.2 km from there to the lighthouse. I went all the way to the lighthouse entrance, to find that it was open for tours, but not after 4 pm. I hadn't planned to tour it anyway but it would be a nice thing to do some time. I enjoyed the view and the scenery and walked down to the sea and back, over big granite rocks that go right down into the water. On the way back I had my usual swim where two oceans meet, at the signposted recreation area 3.5 km from the motel, not at the signposted Flinders Bay Caravan Park. Got back, showered and changed and went for a walk to look at the view over the river. I had chicken and chips and a cheese sausage for tea. Should have had the fresh fish and squid rings as in 1992. Reading at Augusta: 4036 km. Day's ride: 71. Aggregate: 236 km. km/day 79. kph, Mammoth Cave to Augusta: 17.7.
DAY 4, Augusta - Margaret RiverSATURDAY 25 OCTOBER There was no particular hurry on this day. I left Augusta with regret at 8:45 on a fine morning with a light WSW wind that got a bit stronger with some WNW tendencies that were to set in for the two days after this. I turned left into Caves Road and reached Jewel Cave at 4045. It was $12 to get into this cave and the 9:30 tour was late starting because they were waiting for a tour bus which eventually arrived, disgorging a huge number of people. I didn't think they would allow such a number on one tour but they did, and it rather spoilt it. I was reminded of Monkey Mia with hundreds of tourists standing six deep in the water looking at a few dolphins and being ordered about by rangers, and of the Gloucester Tree at Pemberton with hordes of people constantly climbing up and down and scrawling graffiti all over the tree and the steps. Only 15 years ago these were attractions that could be enjoyed by a few people at leisure and at little or no cost. The cave is now called Jewel-Moondyne cave and there is much more of it than I remember. Whole new sections have been opened up. I enjoyed this cave the best of the three I saw on this trip, despite the crowd. The subterranean lake that used to lie over the bottom of the cave has completely dried up and the guide doesn't think it will come back. It is not a seasonal thing - it is a long-term change. I proceeded up Caves Road and reached the T junction at 4054.6. I took the left turn to have a look at Hamelin Bay. I hadn't been there since 1980, when there had been a westerly gale, swarms of flies in the telephone box and every other enclosed space and a lot of rotting timber and rusty derelict machinery. This time (reached at 4057.4) it looked much nicer - the old jetty has almost completely disappeared, the area was clean and the day was sunny and beautiful. The beach looked like heaven, but I did not swim this time. I was not willing to take the time or lose the energy. I like a swim to be the last thing in the day when I have little or no riding to do afterwards and have left the heavy luggage in the hotel. I will stay at Hamelin Bay some time. There are caravans for hire and you only have to bring your own food. I decided to bypass Bushby Road and continue up Caves Road for a few kilometres already ridden in the other direction the previous day, in order to see the Boranup Maze, which I had passed without stopping during the previous day. I got there at 4067. There was no-one there - just an honour box, in which you left your $2, and a toilet block. The maze was constructed of a variety of lush flowering creepers on two metre high fencing wire. Some punters had cheated by pushing through the fencing at points where there was a gap in the lower half of the wire for the convenience of the owner. But you were supposed to find your way to the centre, and out again, using the proper gaps. There was a fountain playing over a tall tower of tangled creepers. At the centre was an old telegraph pole that looked as though it had originally been the only thing on the site. People had of course carved their initials in it. There were wooden seats there, where it was pleasant to rest in the sun, out of the wind, feeling secure and hidden from the world. It took me two goes to get to the centre - I couldn't find the way in without cheating, so I found my way out eventually then went all the way back in, this time finding the centre. I continued up Caves Road and turned right into Vlam Road at 4071. This was 2.5 km of difficult gravel. As I skidded along I thought of the Chesapeake Road in 1987, 50 km of gravel with some difficult spots, and wondered how I had done that. I heard, then saw the Bussell Highway and was glad to turn onto it at 4074. I rested at 4075, tested the wind and found it to be variable in strength but with a definite southerly trend. I passed the Margaret River 20 sign at 1:52, 4076 and reached Margaret River at 2:53, 4096. This was later than I had intended because I wanted time to have a rest and go on the scenic and nature walks that surround the town. I resolved to do this the following morning early, before breakfast, because there would be no rush about leaving and I could come back and have a leisurely breakfast and a shower and leave at ten. I rested, showered and went for some late shopping to buy postcards, an up-to-date map of the area, and sticky tape (to fix the radio earphones which I had wrecked by jamming the wire in my bike pump). I had bought breakfast earlier. I rang up the Esplanade hotel in Busselton to book my usual upstairs room. Then I went to Mama's Oriental Diner again and bought chicken in plum sauce to take away. It was as good as on Thursday. I spent a leisurely evening watching the in-house video and sewing and fixing the earphones. Reading at Margaret River: 4096. Day: 60 km. Cumulative 296 km. kpd 74. kph last 20 km to Margaret River 20. 2.5 km of gravel road included.
DAY 5, Margaret River - BusseltonSUNDAY 26 OCTOBER The morning was cool and sunny with light winds that would freshen from the NNW as the day went on, impeding my progress to Busselton. I would not even come close to my effort in 1980 when I did the journey non-stop in 1 hour 55 minutes. As I hoped, I was awake at 7 am and got up quickly to take the walks. I set off down the main street with the new map, crossed over the road bridge and turned left onto the path. After some distance I came to the footbridge that gave the walk its name. The scene was beautiful, with the morning sun casting shadows over the rippling river and the rocks. Other people had had the same idea as I and we exchanged 'good morning' as we met. I crossed the bridge into the forest and ambled along, enjoying the trees and wildflowers and birdcalls. The map didn't conform to the number of paths that I found, or their direction, but eventually I came back to the footbridge and crossed over. I could have turned left and gone on to see the old railway bridge but I will save that for another visit. I went back to and across the main road, through the park and into the other walk. Once again the map was misleading - it failed to show one of the footbridges so I never came to the dam wall before it was time to get back to the town. But I have seen the dam wall before. I found the end of a sealed road with some houses and followed the map to get me back to the motel at 8:45. I had an hour and a quarter to have breakfast, shower and get going, which I did at 10:07 after handing in the key. I had meant to go to Busselton non-stop, literally, never getting off, but it was not to be. I saw some orchids by the road on the climb out of Margaret River and had to stop to inspect them - a great number of large blue orchids. Later I was clumsy executing a gear change and the chain came off. I thought of stopping to shelter at Cowaramup because quite a heavy shower fell as I approached the town, but it eased off and the sky brightened as I rode through so I decided to keep going. The NW wind (indicating the approach of a cold front that was to provide some heavy showers at Busselton that night and the next morning) opposed me most of the way, only helping me the last 8km to Busselton after the turn-off at Vasse. I had to stop and stretch three times but never got off the bike to have a drink and rest as I normally do. There is a steady down-hill trend from Margaret River, in the Whicher Range, to Busselton on the coast, and I was looking forward to this, but it wasn't as helpful as I expected. The headwind made a difference and I seemed to be feeling tired, not in my best form. I hoped I would pick up before the Bunbury-to-Mandurah challenge planned for Tuesday. I passed by the Carbunup River shop, resisting the temptation to stop and buy a cold drink, reached Vasse and thankfully turned with the wind for the last leg. I passed a woman who was jogging along the road. She was preceded by a slow-moving vehicle and a policeman was directing traffic to give her right of way. She was participating in the local fun-run. I didn't see anyone else as I rode on so she must have been the leader. I turned left at the wrong set of traffic lights, one street before Queen Street which was to be my timing point for the end of the ride. I corrected my error and reached the Queen-Bussell intersection at 12:31, 4145. Allowing for tenths of a kilometre I had done 48 km in 2 hours 24 minutes - even time, better than usual, but still well outside my 1980 effort. Still, better things were to come. I bought lunch before proceeding to the Esplanade Hotel which that day was the scene of a sausage sizzle associated with the fun-run. The hotel had been rebuilt during the six years since I last stayed there. The upstairs back verandah was missing which meant that there was nowhere to hang my washed clothes. The old back outdoor drinking area had been replaced. More units had been built and there was a stand-alone bottle shop. I booked in, paid my reasonable $20 and went upstairs, to find that my room, though re-numbered to 28, was almost unchanged in 20 years. The same iron-frame beds and rickety brown old-fashioned hotel furniture, the same bed-spreads and sagging mattresses. However, the old sash window had been replaced with one that opened with a winding handle and there was a good new insect screen. I opened the window as wide as it would go and got a pleasant breeze as I ate my lunch and had a sleep. There was a smoke detector installed in the ceiling above my bed. I noticed it when I woke up. There was still an ash-tray in the room so I don't know if the detector was to detect volumes of smoke associated with a major fire or if it was meant to enforce a ban on smoking. Perhaps if I lit a cigarette the smoke nazis would come rushing up the stairs shouting 'Quit! Quit!' I went the traditional way between the peppermint trees and past the tennis court to have my traditional swim. No further work had been done on the beachfront since they knocked over several pine-trees in 1991 to build a stupid hot concrete thing, now complete. In 1978 Cyclone Alby destroyed the section of the famous Busselton jetty that joined Queen Street to the railway junction further up the jetty, some hundreds of metres offshore. A small block of this section remained in 1992; now only a few posts remain. A small jetty has been built out from the beach to provide something to dive off. I enjoyed my traditional hot shower in the old bathroom, again unchanged from 20 years ago except for a couple of changes of paint. The uneven floor of small tiles still held puddles of water unable to escape. I remembered 1977 and how glad I was to be under that shower after four days of pain and difficulty riding from Cottesloe. I walked around the town and made some 'phone calls, then had pizza at Busselton Pizza as the day faded. Now was the time for the traditional walk on the jetty. This had been the highlight of the 1977 trip, surpassing even Meelup Beach. That year I took this walk on my second night in Busselton, after the day trip to Meelup. As described in the 1991 ride report, a decision was made between 1988 and 1991 to repair the jetty instead of letting it fall down. In 1991 they were charging 50 cents for a walk, now it had gone up to $2 and repair work was still going on. The north-westerly wind was strong and cool in my face. I hoped it would turn around before the morning. The last 400 metres of the jetty were inaccessible because there was a gap with a large construction machine clamped over it. I could have crossed the gap by walking over a narrow plank but there was no point in being silly. The night was dark and clouds hung about so that as I looked east and north across the sea I could seee the lights of Capel, the mine, Bunbury, and, for the first time, the Perth Metropolitan area about 200 km up the coast. As I walked back I met two boys who were competing with each other to catch the most fish. They had caught four or five each. No-one else seemed to be catching anything. I got back to the hotel in time to enjoy the Sunday evening session in the bar, have a drink, play some music on the juke box and watch a game of pool. I slept well after my jetty walk. It was the first time I have stayed there on a Sunday night and there wasn't the usual noise from traffic and from drunks at closing time. A heavy shower fell during the night, making a noise on the new, but still iron, roof of the hotel above my head and outside my window. Reading at Busselton: 4146. Km for day: 50. Aggregate: 346. Km per day: 69. Kph to Busselton: 20.
DAY 6, Busselton - BunburyMONDAY 27 OCTOBER There was no hurry getting away this morning - I only had the easy ride to Bunbury, though the winds were still a bit northerly and wouldn't help me. There was another shower but it didn't catch me outside. I took a morning swim before going back to my room to eat breakfast, then I showered and changed and went back into the town to buy postcards and post them before setting off in the usual direction, away from the town up Geographe Bay Road, at 9:53. The new map was not new enough to show the complete blockage of the old Geographe Bay Road by new developments or the new Port Geographe development with its new roads. I found myself on a great road curving southwards and wasn't sure where I was going. I stopped to check the map but it was no help so I just followed the road - since traffic was speeding from the other direction I presumed that I wasn't going into a dead end. In due course I came onto the continuation of the Geographe Bay Road and resumed the familiar ride through Wonnerup, past the old homestead and into the Ludlow pine forest. I met the old main road, formerly Bussell Highway before the detour was built to the south, and turned left. It was strange to see this familiar and formerly busy stretch of road with so little traffic and it was a pleasant ride. Eventually I came to the actual Bussell Highway and kept on, looking for the right turn to get onto the old road through Capel. I found it and arrived in Capel at 11:14, 4174. This was my first rest stop. Colroy's tearooms had hardly changed in 20 years. There was the dining room where I had lingered for two hours over a big lunch in 1977 before the last push into Busselton. I had nearly been at my limit on arriving there in 1977 and only the long lunch and rest enabled me to do the last 26 km into Busselton, counting each painful 5 kilometres by the pegs, BS 25, 20, 15, 10, 5. How easy it all is now compared with that first time. The reminiscent stop was spoilt by the noise from road-building equipment resurfacing what is now Capel Drive, not the main Bussell Highway, but in the old days there would have been the noise from trucks changing gear and taking the sharp turn past the tearooms before belting over the bridge towards Bunbury. I left at 11:30, hoping to do a good time to Bunbury - my best is 68 minutes from the tearooms to the old Bunbury railway station, now a bus terminal. Clearly it wasn't going to happen this day - the wind was westerly with northerly gusts and I still didn't feel at my most energetic. I got back onto the Bussell Highway via a short stretch of barred path meant only for bikes and walkers. I came to Centenary Road at 12:26, 4195.1 and turned left to take my planned short cut to Ocean Drive and the motel I had booked. Climbing a steep stretch of road and trying to get into my easiest gear the chain came off again. This had been a problem all through the trip, caused by the chain being stretched so that it is just a little too long for the derailleur wheel to sit clear of the big cog that gives me my easiest uphill gear. There was a solution involving changing the other gear to the big cog on the chain-ring before getting easily into the uphill gear, then changing the chain-ring down again, but I should have thought of it earlier - Bunbury is hilly but once I had left it there were few hills between there and home to need the easiest uphill gear. I will renew all those parts of the bike next year. At 12:51, 4202.8, 81 minutes out of Capel, I arrived at the Ocean Drive motel. Not too bad a time. I booked in and when he saw my bike the manager changed my room to one on the ground floor in the original block of units where I stayed for the first time in 1962, then again in 1991. I went 1 km down William Street to Emi's deli to get lunch and supplies. I didn't really know the deli was there but I guessed that some suitable shop would be down there somewhere and I was right. Maybe some hidden memory. After a rest in the pleasant unit, $40, openable windows with flyscreens, I had a bracing swim at the rough Back Beach, then showered and changed and hung my washing on the rotary hoist. I wish all motels provided them. Then I oiled the bike and set off for a ride around Bunbury to see familiar places, make some telephone calls and write and send postcards. I still didn't bother to pump the tyres because they seemed hard enough and I didn't want to risk a blowout from over-inflating them. Near sunset I bought fried duck in plum sauce and took it back to the motel to eat while watching television. Before going to bed I went for a walk along the path overlooking the beach and was pleased to note that the fresh wind had backed southerly. I hoped for a good day for the push to Mandurah the next day. I had not booked anywhere to stay in Mandurah because it would be a Tuesday and I was sure I would find somewhere to stay if I made it, but wasn't sure that I would be up to it or that the winds would stay favourable. I didn't want a repeat of 1979 when I made this ride for the first time on a day when the maximum temperature was 34 and the sea breeze was late and weak. Reading at Bunbury: End of day 4213. Day's ride: 67 km. Aggregate: 413. Km/day: 69. kph to Bunbury: 18.9
DAY 7, Bunbury - MandurahTUESDAY 28 OCTOBER The wind was steady from the south-west as I left the Ocean Drive motel at 7:55. The odometer just flicked over to 4214.0 as I turned onto Ocean Drive, so I made that my starting point. There was a slight delay as I turned onto Clifton Street which would lead to Koombana Drive, thence to Estuary Drive and the old, Old Coast Road that ran through Australind. I went round again to make sure I was indeed on Clifton Street. I didn't want to lose time. I was chasing a personal best, though without much hope at this stage. I found all the right roads and went through the greatly expanded Australind and onto Cathedral Avenue, which saves a few kilometres and is flatter and more pleasant - quite beautiful on such a morning as this, riding alongside the calm water of the Leschenault Estuary with the low sandy hills on the other side. It has been marked 'Scenic Drive' and booby-trapped accordingly with sudden kerbs and bumps and narrow winding bits. I got past a couple of local cyclists who rode slowly along, weaving all over the road. I didn't take my first rest stop until Binningup Road, 4242. The day had warmed up and the wind was very light now that I was away from the coast. It wasn't what I had been hoping for, one of those penetrating southerlies that blast the entire coastal plain and that immobilised me in 1978. I was making good time, though; I reckoned that I had to maintain an average of at least 20 kph to have a chance of breaking my personal best with a final sprint to Mandurah. I rested again at 4262 and 4282. At these stops I noticed that the wind had died completely; it was flat calm. The dual carriageway with a wide marked strip on the left that I had been enjoying since Bunbury, suddenly gave way to the old road, a two-lane with no room on the left of the white line at the edge. I had to share this with trucks for some 13 km before at least the wide left-hand strip came back. I expect it will all have changed before I go that way again. I passed the road to Yarloop, from which I had come in 1992, at 4269, the Lake Clifton roadhouse at 4278 and the motel where I stayed in 1992 at 4284. The hill-climbing before Mandurah began and I took my last rest and drink stop at 4300, at the top of a hill I started off again and passed the MH 15 peg at 12:36. To break my personal best time I would have to do these last km in 39 minutes. It was doable; much of it would be downhill and I would pick up the breeze again as I got close to the coast. I came in sight of the sea and the road became new and wide and smooth. I was going to go over the new Dawesville Cut bridge, the Bouvard Bridge, for the first time. This was enjoyable; the bridge was high up, sloping down toards the northern end, and the vista of sea and land was beautiful in the sun. I went off the northern end of the bridge at 55 kph and began to look out for the old road to Mandurah which would be on the left. There wasn't any doubt when it came; a large clear sign pointed to the old road to the city centre. I took this and some of it had been made narrow and tortuous, not good enough for bikes and the large vehicles that still wanted to come into the city centre. I rode over the old bridge and came to a stop at my traditional timing point - the little theatre and tackle shop opposite the old Brighton Hotel. I put my foot to the ground and checked my watch. It was 1:10. I had achieved a new personal best of 5 hours 15 minutes for this ride - 34 minutes for the last 15 km. I was pleased after the disappointingly slow rides to Busselton and Bunbury. Of course, in 1991 (5 hours 21 minutes) I had been slowed by roadworks and detours associated with the still incomplete Dawesville Cut, but on that day I had had a proper tailwind all the way. After the long ride and final sprint I felt more stiff and sore than usual at the end of a day's ride. I checked into the Brighton which advertised the cheapest B&B in town It used to be really good value for money, but at $55 for a shabby little room with the bathroom and toilet, fanless, crammed into one end where the window used to be I wondered what the tariff was at other places. Next time, I will break my sentimental association with the Brighton and pay through the nose for something decent. I had lunch and a rest then took the short 2 km ride up to Stewart Street and the town beach for a swim. It was lovely. It was only recently that I realised that there was such a fine ocean beach so close to the centre of Mandurah. Before, I always used to swim in the more or less polluted estuary. After showering and changing and hanging out my washing I made some telephone calls and went looking for somewhere to have dinner. There was no longer any need to do any shopping. I would be home the next day and would be cycling past plenty of shops if I needed anything. I ate dinner at a Chinese restaurant. I sat next to the window and watched the sun set over the estuary. Afterwards I went to the old bridge to watch people fishing off the under part. Some people were wading in the shallows with nets and torches and pelicans were as usual floating about hoping for a snack. I went up to the TV lounge to find two men watching Funniest Home Videos. They were singing along and tapping their feet to the ads. I managed to persuade them to let me watch Channel Two for half an hour at eight o'clock. They tried to watch it too but after five minutes without an ad they couldn't stand any more and left. After that I went down to the bar to see what was happening. I fell in with two young Scottish men who were playing pool and enjoying music on the juke box. I played pool with them and chose a few tunes of my own. They were travelling around the state on motorbikes and were interested to hear about my push-bike trip. We discussed the towns, the country, the weather, things that can go wrong. After the bar closed we went up and made a cup of tea and watched the Eurovision Song Contest on television, then bade each other goodnight. They said they probably wouldn't see me at breakfast - breakfast finished at nine and this was too early for them - they liked to sleep in and usually missed breakfast. My room was near the end of a passage so I wasn't disturbed by a lot of passing footsteps and slept quite well. Reading at Mandurah: 4322. Day's ride 109 km, second most ever. Aggregate: 522. Kpd 75.
DAY 8, Mandurah - CottesloeWEDNESDAY 29 OCTOBER After a cooked breakfast and the usual help-yourself cereal in the dining room that hadn't changed in 20 years, except for the wallpaper peeling a bit more off the ceiling (no other guests showed up), I left the Brighton Hotel at 9:38 with a breeze already behind me. This truly was to be one of those 'southerly buster' days. I looked forward to enjoying this last easy run home, in contrast to 1979. At 4351 I stopped for a rest at a 'Rules' supermarket in one of those ghastly southern coastal suburbs. The little centre didn't carry any name to identify the area. A woman was sitting with bags of shopping when I arrived and was finally picked up by a taxi as I was about to leave. She could have been waiting some time. She looked unhappy. This was one of those 'get a car or live somewhere else' suburbs. I bought a drink in the supermarket. As I was getting ready to leave I trod on the earphone wires that I hadn't noticed hanging out of my pocket, breaking the wires, then trod on one of the little phones. So I could have no more radio as I continued home. It wasn't so bad as I was only 2 hours from the end of the ride. I turned left into Cockburn Road at 4365 and rested at Coogee, 4174. I didn't bother to buy a drink. I knew that I was only 14 km from home and it seemed that I could achieve a time of less than three hours for the journey from Mandurah to home - it was 12 noon when I got going again. I could do Coogee to home in half an hour with this wind if I pushed it, which I could do now, and if I were lucky with the dozen or so sets of traffic lights on the way. Finally I turned into the laneway that runs past my house and the 1997 ride ended as I put my foot to the ground outside my back gate. It was 12:33. 2 hours 55 minutes from Mandurah.
Final reading at end of ride: 4388 km. Km for day: 66. Aggregate: 588. Kpd: 73.5 ( a new PB). Kph to home: 22.2. 2 hours 55 minutes from Mandurah to Cottesloe ( a new PB). This was not my longest ride but notable for 5 personal bests; Bunbury to Busselton; Bunbury to Dunsborough; Bunbury to Mandurah; Mandurah to home; highest daily average kilometres ridden. I might have one more go at beating 5 hours for Bunbury to Mandurah, but the other personal bests will probably stand forever.
Charles A. Pierce 1997 Do you have questions about bicycle touring in Western Australia's SouthWest? You're welcome to ask Charles!
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