David's Journal Entry

The climb out of Adelaide started softly. We cruised our way through the mostly flat outer suburbs of the city to the base of the escarpment in Adelaide's east. As we peeled off the highway and found the Crafters Bikeway we started to crank our way up through the eucalyptus trees on either side (holding onto a small hope that we might spot a koala nestled on its cartilaginous posterior). The views were incredible as we looked back towards the city, and we were reminded that as tough as climbing may be it brings its own reward. With burning quads and an old familiar metallic taste in the mouth, we kept ascending, thankful to have enough gears to keep pushing our way ever higher. The exhilaration of the downhills that followed and swept us into Stirling were only tempered a little by Doug's worn and damp brake pads and threadbare front tyre. Mike had no such issues, but with Doug's extra mass, smaller frontal area and full-suspension set-up I was never too far adrift. Doug is a Rolls-Royce and perfectly adapted for smooth, flowing descents.

Our first stop of the day, for a coffee in Stirling, was somewhat grounding as our young waiter first enquired and then enthused about our journey, before telling us rather emotionally about his dear friend Leif Indigo Justham, who had recently been struck and killed by a truck whilst riding across the Nullabor.  He was just 21 and riding along a road we would have taken had we followed our original plan to cross from West to East Australia. 

As we pushed past the watershed of the Adelaide Hills we entered a very 'European' landscape, more typical of Northern England or the central belt of the continent. Small fields with a range of livestock, rolling hills, babbling brooks and brick houses littered the land. Lunch in the very Germanic town, Hahndorf, did little to dispel the feeling we had been pushed through a portal. As we dined al fresco the weather finally caught us and we were forced inside to finish our meal. Decision time. Do we settle for a 35km day (not too bad given the climbing we had done) or push on? The weather radar suggested there would be a narrow window of time to avoid the worst of the rain if we were prepared to take a risk. We both agreed that the opportunity to put in a few extra kilometres on what should be a flat track was too good to spurn. In spite of some short sharp climbs, we were blessed with flat, fast roads. A growing tailwind made its presence known as we neared Kanmantoo, both accelerating and retarding us in equal measure as we negotiated the endless switchbacks. These hairpins disappeared as we neared Murray Bridge and the winds picked up considerably. 40kmph tailwinds took all the heat off our legs as they hurled us down the road, but it required considerable concentration to stay rubber side down.

The weather warning released by the Bureau of Meteorology was sufficient to once again encourage us indoors overnight. The idea of camping in a field and becoming victim to a widowmaker was not appealing. The warning also means that we may need to take a considerable detour or perhaps even hole up for a few days. The Bureau of Meteorology have suggested there may be worse to come and the bridge for which the town is named, and our only route out, is currently closed due to the wind.