Day 31 - Buccarumbi to Gloucester - 415kms

My rock was still warm when I woke up and it was hard to leave it and my tent for the frigid morning mountain air. Everything was were we left it this morning so happy there weren't any thieves in Buccarumbi but we did have some bike issues today. After splitting a stale cold muffin we geared up the bikes and between the cold weather and me messing with the bike last night there wasn't quite enough juice to crank it over. We pushed the heavy bugger up the hill and then got a running start. I stepped on the shifter instead of the foot peg trying to get on and we came skidding to a stop. Back up the hill again and I was much more careful this time and got the beast started up. We hit the campsite jump a few more times and I kept trying to go bigger and bigger. When the handlebars spun down to the gas tank I took it as a sign that it was probably big enough. We straightened the bars and headed for the hillclimb we deferred last night. I sent a nervous Mike up first so I could photo him on his way up. It looked a bit messy but he made it to the top and I don't think he ever shifted out of second. I followed him up and it was far more difficult than I expected. I was wishing I didn't have my swag across the back when I was leaning the bike over to avoid catching it on trees and branches.

We continued down the trail to another great camp spot at an old abandoned town call Dalmorton. We stopped to check the map and I noticed oil all over my front brake and rim. On closer inspection I had blown the dust seal, circlip, oil seal, washer and bushing out of the upper fork tube and they were hanging on the bottom of the lower tube. Now some of you may blame this on me and say "Chris, you shouldn't be jumping a 700 pound bike" but I'm pretty sure this is completely unrelated to my morning activities and probably the result of some weird high altitude-low temperature effect on the oil or fork or both. We cleaned it very carefully and using my remaining un-stolen tools, a large rock, paper towels and some wire scavenged from a long abandoned sheep pen we were able to reassemble the fork and continue on our way. The dampening wasn't what it used to be but it was good enough to keep us moving.

We rode over Mount Hyland and the temperature dropped considerably as we got near the top. There was pea gravel in random spots that was the same colour as the road and I came into one corner with a little too much speed. Rather than stomping on the brakes and sliding off the road on my side I rode straight off and tried to use the ditch as a berm. It worked way better than expected and I made the corner and came to an easy stop still in the ditch. I quickly turned around to see if I could get out before Mike saw me but he was stopped on the road looking at me and shaking his head.
We were getting pretty hungry after only splitting a stale muffin since our last real meal 22 hours before (my food planning could use some work) when we came upon a small fuel station in the town of Ebor. Walking through the doors felt like stepping back in time. It was a combo fuel station, restaurant, thrift store and grocery store all crammed into 1 1/2 small rooms and the three newspapers that were in there were from the day Japan bombed Pearl Harbour, the day World War II was over and the day Neil Armstrong walked on the moon. The nice old lady running the place fired up the grill and made us two hamburgers that were so big you nearly had to dislocate your jaw to get a bite. We lingered in the store for an hour pretending to plan our journey while really heating ourselves up by the wood stove.
The rest of the day consisted of winding paved roads through mountains and across rivers and valleys with amazing views as we passed across the Great Dividing Range on the Thunderbolt Highway. We reached our final destination of Gloucester and while we were standing on Main Street deciding where to camp a guy walked by and said "If your looking for a place to stay there are rooms at the pub and they'll lock the bikes up for you out back." These were the magic words we needed to hear and rather than freezing in our swags we have a nice room right behind the pub and our bikes and gear locked away in their shed. A good end to an good day.