Port Lincoln to Shiringa Roadhouse

Stats 5hours 35 mins of riding 133km

First days on bike trips can be very tough days – the body needs time to establish the routine of the demands being placed on it – sort of ease into it somehow. Today has been something of an exception to the rule. A vindication of my decision to start Deep South at port Lincoln as my forecast for the brisk wind blowing consistently from the south has made the ride a relative pleasure. Tired now but not totally destroyed.

Traffic was light with not too many heavy trucks or road trains. At about the 90 km mark I stopped to take a minor detour to take photos from the cliff tops of the rugged coastline. A lady ( let’s call her Le couger) drove up in a wagon and offered me a lift – ” just throw your bike in the back and I can take you all the way up to Venus Bay” My legs were very tempted by this very kind offer yet despite the fact that woman offering to take me to Venus is not something that happens often these days I had to very politely decline – even declined her counter that she might take me up to Sheringa roadhouse – my actual destination for the night.

Sheringa Roadhouse is a rustic rundown collection of old dilapidated sheds – fishing Shacks and a few cabins. I put my 30 bucks down and have this little porta cabin with a bed. It does not have clean sheets and clearly someone has slept in it recently – the indent of his/ her head still on the pillow and some small remains of the snack had in bed. Bit gross eh! Think I will be using my sleeping bag tonight. The owners Mark and Cathy seem an engaging couple but a bit tired and dilapidated like the rear of the place- Mark has an unusual linguistic affliction as he uses the word ” fuckin” completely out of any context whatever at a ratio of about 1:3 – 1:4 depending on what he is trying to say. Had some essential rehydration around a fire in a truck wheel rim with Mark and a couple of Aussy shearers. It was lovely and warm – so so cold here in SA in August.

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Picked up this Aussy bird – she seemed keen to join me on this ride – some company after Barb declined my offer to join this particular adventure.
She’s called ” Sharlene” the tame Emu – actually they were all Sharlenes – tagged on their backsides in case they forget. Naturally I was disappointed as clearly I would have gone for a Muriel or a Barbara – but Sharlene – take it or leave it.
I’m training Sharlene – she sits facing back on the lookout for road trains . One loud squawk if a double and two very loud squawks if it is a huge triple road train. If I break wind she is instructed to make no sound – just act as if nothing happened. Training has not been going too well so far except for the last bit – perfect score there.

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