Wimmera and Mallee Day Four

I spent the evening chatting with grandma and had a good eight hours sleep in a good bed. I waved goodbye to Grandma at 9am


And, singing songs of Augie March in my head, I rode south into a beautiful day




The rain had drenched the earth and everything was green and everywhere dams were refreshed.  Great puddles of water sat like nourishment, the earth lying back in pleasure with feeling of it.


My first stop was for a walk about Quambatook.




Further south on the way to Boort I came across somebody’s collection of farm machinery, dating from the 1880s to the 1930s




Boort


And various small towns I passed through on the way south




I had lunch at Wedderburn, then decided to head further south and then west into Maryborough, Maldon, Castlemaine, to decide my route into Melbourne from there


From Wedderburn onwards the landscape changed. It was no longer the flat dry country but rather southern mountain country; a land well-traversed and loved by me but not the homeland which I feel myself amidst when up north.

Throughout this fourth day the GR650 ran beautifully. I cruised down the Calder at 115kph on a strong engine. The spark plugs were tan. I can only assume that some rubbish or water had got into my fuel / carburettors, had blocked the flow of fuel across the range, and that my persistence in riding the bike had eventually cleared everything out.

This trip was the beginning for me. It was made cheap by my camping and simple tastes. I intend to do many more, to roam the Mallee, spreading myself out in what seems the elusive centre or source. The early European Australians believed that there was a freshwater sea in the centre of the continent.  Perhaps I am pursuing the same thing, and perhaps we misunderstand those people when we scoff at their apparent delusion.