Curious Cows, Flat Pears and Buzz Saw Insects

I woke this morning in time to watch a beautiful buttery yellow horizon turn to pink and then to the clear blue that stayed all day. I am in Queensland and it’s like a different country. It’s warmer and clearer and even the birds sound different. As I watch the dawn I try to count the species of birds I can hear and there are just too many. I can hear the familiar squeaky toy sounds I have heard before but it is backed up by scores of little staccato tweets and chirps and twitters of smaller birds. It is a marvellous way to wake up and helps set the tone for the day. After the disappointments of the day before I begin to feel much more positive about what is really just going to be an extended holiday. Even better I find my phone charger so if I get a little credit I might be able to use it to go online


It was so hard to say goodbye to Phil this morning, especially since I probably won’t see him for another six weeks, so I went for a ride up the road with him to get the last few minutes together. I then spent almost three hours walking the five kms back because I kept stopping to take scores of beautiful photos. The trees are twisty and wild looking and it has been raining so there is water in the streams and in puddles next to the road. Along with the many bird calls there is the insistent drone of buzzing insects that sound like intermittent and muffled chain saws.

There are termite mounds and duck ponds and little muddy creeks and fields of tall dry grasses. There is a farmer on a tractor ploughing his field while about twenty crows circle and land as he passes. There are tree studded paddocks with cows of muddy brown or patchy black and they all turn to watch me as I pass, and there are two steer on the property where I stay. I am happy to see them as they are part of my stewardship here at the farm but they are less than happy to see me walking along the dusty road towards them.

They watch suspiciously and turn and run off when I get too close. At one point they attempt to hide behind a few trees. They have to weigh four hundred kg’s each, it beats me why I should look so scary to them; or how they can think I will not see them behind a coupe of scraggy old trees.

I have one more look in the cemetery but the only thing I find is an unusual tree that seems to be hung with pictures of pears. They seemed far too flat and shiny to be real, but on closer inspection, turn out to be pairs of green seed pods. What an amazing country.

A snake in the grass.

I have finally seen an Australian snake in the wild … !!
Like many New Zealanders I thought I would see kangaroos at every turn, a koala in every gum tree and I would have to dodge snakes, crocodiles and dangerous spiders every time I left the town. After six months exploring in three states, I have finally caught a glimpse of a little brown snake and it was slithering away through the long grass as quickly as it could.

It’s not like they haven’t had lots of opportunities to make themselves known. I have spent hours exploring native Australia, wading through the undergrowth, poking around under trees, and sometimes inside them. When looking for *geocaches they can be anywhere including inside hollow logs and under rocks.

I have met people who know people who have seen snakes, but I thought I would have seen lots of snakes by now.

If I had thought more about it I would have realised that there is a reason the daily papers don’t carry the latest snake attack statistics. There aren’t many.

So that brings my “Australian wildlife seen in the wild” collection to a few hundred kangaroos, thousands of beautiful birds, ten water dragons and various other lizards, no koalas and half a snake.

Perhaps I should go further north. I hear they have real live crocodiles there. That should be fun.

* A geocache is a small container that is hidden for others to find by using the supplied GPS co-ordinates. There are over a million of them hidden around the world. Look out for a post explaining more about geocaching soon.

Grandma on a bike

Technically I have always been a grandma on a bike but now I feel every year of my age. I am riding around on a powerful motorbike at 70kns at most and bracing myself for a sudden stop and a quick flight over the handle bars.

I know something is wrong with the bike as it sounds “funny”. It is kind of chugging along like an old steam train and when I stop the engine seems almost hot enough to produce steam. Yesterday the chain came unstuck and the bike skidded to a halt. Luckily I wasn’t going fast.

RACQ came with their enormous truck, (I am so glad I have RACQ). Unfortunately they didn’t have the straps they needed to secure the bike so they had to send a second truck. People driving by must have wondered what kind of a tragic accident needed that sort of attention. Not that small bike surely?

They finally got me home where I had another go at tightening the chain. It should be okay but what do I know? I have only been riding a bike for the last 5 months and I never intended to be a mechanic.

My bike is not very old but it seems to be going through a midlife crisis. It used to run beautifully but now it has all sorts of new problems.

  1. I need a new rear tyre. It started off as a slow leak. By using a pan of water I found the leak was at the site of my last puncture repair. I redid the repair and the next day ……. I had a fast leak and no air at all.

   2. It may have engine trouble. As well as the noise, it has been leaking water and using oil really fast. At least it didn’t spray me with hot coolant like it did on my last long trip.

   3. There was a rubber strap hanging down that wasn’t there before the great chain lock incident. I had it glued up again so when it gets hot I get the aroma of hot glue inside my helmet.

My poor bike needs some care and attention from experts. I suppose it could be because I have done nearly 9000kms since December. That is a lot of travel and a lot of wonderful adventures. Roll on the next 9000. But first …. Where is the nearest bike shop?

Rest or R.I.P.!!

Riding my bike up from New South Wales to Queensland recently, I was fascinated by the road signs.

All through NSW there are community advisory signs that say things like, “Take a Break” or “Revive and Survive”, but as I crossed the border into Queensland I noticed a much more morbid side to the transport department signs. They carried messages like “Rest or R.I.P.” and “Every K over is a killer” or the cheery “Tired drivers die”. I was already feeling bombarded with the tragic possibilities of not getting enough rest when I came across an electronic sign that spoke to me personally. “Your speed is 97km’s. Take a break now.” Grrrrr

And there are warning signs on every little hill. Many of the Aussie mountains wouldn't even rate a mention in a younger and more rugged country like NZ. If New Zealand used signs the way the Aussies do, there would have signs every few minutes.  The Aussies seem to love signs and use them extensively. I counted 15 arrows on a longish corner and this wonderful group on Cunningham highway.

The corner is not that bad…… honest. I have seen much worse in the New Zealand outback with just two yellow signs and a stripe of white paint on the road.

Then there are the commercial signs. You know you are coming up to a town when you see the fast food signs spring up out of the ground like tall, flat, colourful mushrooms. Usually there are Red Rooster, KFC, Subway and McDonalds signs, possibly all in a line making it convenient to decide whether you "deserve a break today" or you can avoid making a home cooked meal by buying a trillion pieces of chicken with a bucket of sauce and "would you like fries with that?". These signs are typically about ten minutes from town and flanked by the more subdued signs of local cafes, motels and other local businesses.

What I find most bizarre are the signs out in the middle of nowhere. McDonalds is especially good for this. In a remote location after driving for some time without seeing any signs of life, a sign with the big yellow “M” appeared and said something like “Your next McDonalds is only 75 minutes away”. I didn’t get a photo of that sign but 20kms later I got this one. It is still 55 minutes away........

Are there really people who plan their travel around the next McDonalds? Is there a group of travellers who spend their time wondering where their next all meat patty, special sauce, pickles and cheese on a sesame seed bun is going to come from?

I quite like McDonalds. …..Occasionally. But is it really that important?

I much prefer to try new things.

There was the strange grey seafood soup, with the odd name I can’t recall, that I had in a small country village in Tasmania. It was delicious. And then there was the chicken Laksa I ordered in Narrabri from the Asian noodle house. Along with the chicken and veges, it had some interesting cubes of rubbery stuff that may have been dried tofu. … Or possibly not. Now that’s not just dinner. That is an adventure.