Paringa to Truro 107 miles & 827m climbed

It was cold in the tent first thing. I never expected that! With a plan for early starts it means you have to pack and break down the tent in the dark. I managed to do this. It helps having no close neighbours to annoy, except the 18 wheelers on the A20 (and they can’t hear you.)

The start was through Renmark, a built up area and even though the early morning traffic was intense it was nice to have something to look at. Even a little agriculture came back into view rather than the open scrub land. However soon I had cleared the town and was back out on that hard shoulder that had now re-appeared as a rough asphalt track. Some genius, working for South Australia’s equivalent of the Highways Agency, had laid a hard shoulder from different material to the carriageway. Think of the saving! It was awful and shook the bike and me. I reckon I rolled at 2mph slower: generally not a big deal if you are moving at 60mph but significant if you’re moving at 12mph.

As a consequence I rode on the carriageway until I espied a vehicle bearing down behind me using my rear view mirror and then I hopped back over the rumble strip onto the ‘track’. This regime was demanding and needed a level of concentration and so no music or podcasts for me all day.

Lunch came into view at a service station at Waikerie and my specially made cheese and tomato sandwich scored 8.5/10. From here it was 26 miles to Blanchetown. By now we’re hitting mid 30°s temperature wise and cycling is a grind. I push on.

Blanchetown, in a valley down to the Murray River, arrives after 77 miles.

After a long search up and down steep hills in the small settlement the campsite comes into view or not. Despite the checks and confirmation that looked very shut to me.

I cycled up the hill to the Blanchetown Hotel to implement ‘Plan B’ it turns out they’re just a pub and restaurant. The landlord shares his ideas on accommodation options and they’re another 30 miles away, or as he ruefully commented ‘a forty minute drive’! He also commented there were hills to negotiate.

A little crestfallen I regroup and as Mao Tse Tung once opined ‘the longest journey starts with the first step’ and it’s back on to the A20. I bought some water at a petrol station and pointed my trusty steed west again.

At this point I must mention my relief and delight at my fitness. I was often feeling weary but the legs were strong, knees uncomplaining, the back didn’t hurt and I could always press on. I carry too much water on the bike, however, to run out means going further forward or stopping altogether are both dangerous. Better the weight than the thirst. My bicycle hadn’t missed a beat throughout the ride. By now it needed servicing but it’d get me to Adelaide. Thank you Cycle Heaven bike shop in York!

So first up were some roadworks. Over a couple of miles they were resurfacing and it was passage by convoy and enormously dusty, clearly not a concern if you’re in a truck can 10 feet up. After this it was 400m of climbing. I hadn’t done this since earlier on the tour!

At a Rest Stop (this is just a lay-by often with a bench, a gazillion ants, poor shade and litter) I stopped and with my friend Booking.com booked a miserable looking motel in Truro. By now I wasn’t overly fussy about where I’d lay my head but as I was arriving after 6pm some certainty appealed.

Pushing on the heat faded but the rolling hills keep appearing and then I rolled into Truro. The only motel is a fairly down at heel affair where Reception is locked and the mobile number I’m instructed to call has a voice mail message. Strangely, I’m not anxious, after 107 miles I’m just knackered and happy the ride’s over.

I get a call back from an Indian chap and he instructs me to sit tight whilst help is being sent to open up. This arrives and I’m let into a shoebox of a room. I ask about food options. There’s always the petrol station, she says, and the pub up the Main Street may be open.

So showered I wander down to the pub. Is it open?

It was and I ordered a couple of pale ales and some fish and chips. A fair reward for a long day. A surprisingly happy ending.

Early morning texts and calls are to follow from the landlord courtesy of Anna’s cancellation of the credit card…