The gravel was very very soft and the river was running. The result was very wet riders, and lots of stuck bikes. I had to go on a rescue mission before Plug even got to the meeting point. He took a shortcut and managed to bury the Beemer to its skid plate with water up to near the tail pipes. Things did not get much better for the next hour and a half or so. We crossed the river numerous times and had to walk the river more than once to check the crossing. There were two of the crossings that were more than 200m long - was more like riding up the river itself. Combine this with the very soft gravel to make life just that little bit more interesting.
When we got to the first road ford we decided to bail out of the river and skip up to the next road ford closer to the main road bridge. This was done in the interests of actually getting up the river without getting so knackered. From there up to the Main Road Bridge and then to the 2nd road ford upstream it was dry and we found some good tracks though the scrub and along the river bed. The gravel was much harder and life was generally much more enjoyable. Only one little issue and that was the rather strong dead sheep smell that overwhelmed us for a few hundred meters. I'm a farmer’s son from way back and am use to the smell but this was beyond normal rancid.
We decided to keep pushing on knowing that we could turn back to a road ford if necessary. Things started to get wetter again but not so soft so it was not to bad. We eventually got to a part of the river where there was a nice grassy section, which had been fenced of by the local farmers. After trying to find a way around without crossing the river (which was getting deep) we decided to bail to the road again. We found a gate from the riverbed into the neighbouring paddock and were riding the 500m to the road when upon passing a tree in a watery hole we notice the smell again. This time it was a well dead cow in the hole. Again best past on the up wind side. Pheeeew.
Nearing the road we came across a old council gravel pit with a couple of Morris 8's , one a coupe and the other a 4 door. Both were complete enough to be restored (I think) and had suicide front doors which I'm a bit you young to ever have had anything to do with so found intriguing. Also in the pit was an old Massy Harris binder. It to was reasonably intact minus the canvases used as conveyers.
After hearing the local cocky "ripping" along the road on his tractor we decided was time to get onto the road. After having a look around at the potential for going up one of the tributaries we decided to go back towards the paper roads that go between the river and Burnham Camp. They were dry and dusty but none the less more enjoyable than sealed road. Pitty there aren't more roads around like this. After a quick look around the humps and holes used by the military 4wd's we split for home.
All in all quite an adventure - no real tracks, not 100% sure where we were nor quite sure where we were going. Followed our noses most of the way (except when passing dead things).
Pics to come when retrieve camera cable.
Cheers
R
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Originally Posted by Transalper
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