Rain and Pain: The Second Legg

And I was off...

DAY 5 began in Tea Gardens...

I simply cycled out of work and kept going

...until my first flat of the leg happened (Number 4 since Sydney) ...only 30 km down the road.

But there are worse places than the Myall Lakes National Park to break down

And after the second flat, I ended up changing the whole outer tyre.

With a late start (midday) and the double break down, I ended the day early (40 Km), and camped out on the old mining trail heading towards Seal Rocks.

DAY 6: Old Mining Trail (Boomeri) - Forster

It's amazing what 12 hours of sleep can do for you.

Refreshed and rested, I cycled the 23 km dirt track to Seal Rocks and kept peddling through the torrents of rain through Booti Booti national park till Forster (70 km) where I pitched my tent and sat repairing my rain gear.

DAY 7: Forster to Port Macquarie

With mended rain coat and saddle bag covers I was ready for yet another day of sogginess.

Despite veering on and off the Pacific highway and it's traffic, it wasn't all dull...

I pushed hard and finally made my first over 100 km day (136 according to google maps).

Soaked to the core and exhausted, I checked myself into Port Macquarie Backpackers and treated myself to some high life living.

DAY 8: Port to Clambucca

I delayed the day to visit the Koala hospital.

And then finally pretended to be excited about heading back into the pouring rain.

From settlement Point I took a 400m ferry which added 30 km to my route, but saved me from the madness that is the Pacific Highway.

And quite suddenly the tar ended and 34 km of mud began.

I stopped in Crescent Head for lunch and quite enjoyed being back on the tar up through Kempsey and on to Clybucca

I camped out at a truck stop where I joined the plethora of truckies in watching the second game of Origin

DAY 9: Clybucca to Coffs

I was off bright and early.

97 km stood between me and a hot shower and good people and a home cooked meal and a real bed.

The sun even decided to make an appearance and even though my buttocks ached and my rear tyre had a slow leak, nothing would stop me from the goal!!

The Millers and a delicious hot pot meal

 It's a beautiful day today, and I'm almost finished demudding everything; now I just need to find a way to fix my battered buttocks:

A massive decision lies ahead, to buy cycling shorts and risk being mistaken for an actual cyclist,

or to add more weight to the bike and gel seat it...

Either way, it's rest day the second and I'm off to explore the awesomeness that is Coffs [in the sunshine] 

 662 km lie behind me and a flipping long way lies ahead - but it's good to know I'm doing it for an awesome cause!!

Visit www.bikes4life.com.au and donate today!!

Battered Buttocks

My bum is blue.

Let me rewind a little so that you don't mistake me for a wierdo...

It was a dark and stormy day down in Can Tou, Southern Vietnam and I was boarding a bus. A local bus. A little orange bus that had Teddy stuffed into the luggage department for the first time ever... I was headed for Saigon, a trip that should have taken 3 1/2 hours maximum. 4 hours in I had one man drooling on my left shoulder after he mistook it for a pillow whilst the woman sat in the aisle next to me had donated me one of her plethora of children - the one who I can almost assuredly say needed a nappy change - and placed her on my lap... 7 hours later when I finally arrived I found myself lost and confused in the biggest city I'd visited in a while, swarmed by motto drivers that both wanted my money and my bear. While lurking the streets in search of anything English, I swore I'd never take another Vietnamese bus.

... This is how I found myself the proud owner of Percy, my 97cc fake Honda Dream lovingly referred to as the "Family Vehicle" in Saigon. Little Percy raced over hills and rice paddys and carried me the 2254 km to Ha Noi, the capital (I think) where I handed him over to Australian Ian who I hope is treating him with all the love and compassion deserved by such a humble [slightly gay] steed!!

It was only after he was out of my life that I discovered that there is only a bus towards Laos - no trains or boats or ox wagons - only busses!! I began to panic. I mean it was unbelievable - how dare they limit their transportation options? Dangnabbit. I wasn't taking any of it!

It dawned on me that hitch hiking was probably my best option but I was sternly warned not to do it alone so I began the hunt for company. I plastered posters around the city and on-line and became that annoying person that joins your table and disturbs your meal to pester you about things you couldn't possibly want.

I'd been in Ha Noi for almost ten days already and needed out. The only other person I knew who wasn't taking the bus was Rohan and he'd just purchased a bicycle...

It was over lunch on Tuesday that his friends led me to contemplate the cycle - no mention of course that he had actually done long distance cycling before or that he fitness levels resembled that of a Kenyan olympic sprinter. But the idea was there...

On Wednesday I awoke sold on the idea and roamed the streets in search of a worthy steed (I was hoping for pink or green or rusty), some luggage carriers and a bell (you can't have a bicycle without a bell). And then I was set - what more do you need??

Thursday (Yesterday I think) was departure day, and I woke up excited-to-the-point-that-you-almost-wet-yourself only to realise that there was no physical way to strap all my earthly belongings to my bike let alone pedal them over mountain ranges. Departure was delayed as I shipped 11.36 Kilograms of useless hogwash to mum in China and then delayed again as I discovered Teddy missing. Perhaps I shouldn't have put him in the shower... now everyone wants to cuddle him. Whore.

Post officing... enjoy mum!

About 34 km into yesterday's cycle Rohan taught me that bicycles have gears (I'm still a little perplexed by them though) - but after 80 something Km we pulled into Ho Bihn and celebrated life with a quality feast involving copious amounts of Com (rice) and tofu.

Today was a bit of a different story. It was about an hour into this mornings ride that I realized why most people invest in cushioned bicycle seats and why everyone obtains some level of fitness before attempting to cycle through mountain ranges and why you don't see anyone else with a giant Teddy bear strapped to their bicycle. I of course had acquired neither and of the latter I'm not too fond at present. I'm proud to say however that after today's 71 km cycle (At least 65 of those uphill), I've become a skilled walker of the bicycle and with my knees refusing to bend and my bum an unhealthy shade of whale skin blue, I've got to do it all again tomorrow. And the next day. And the and the one after that. Potentially for the next very very long time.

I said it before in the days of lonely motorbike breakdownages, but this is why most people take the bus...