New Day Rising – Days 3-4

25-26 February 2025

Jaimathang Country

Snowy Logging Road to Omeo Hwy camp

There is always hope when you go to sleep when it’s windy that you might wake up to a dry tent in the morning. I went to bed with this hope last night.

But you know, there’s that saying, ‘he who lives on hope, dies fasting’.

My hopes are dashed this early morning. I have slept straight through and never heard that wind die off or the silent accumulation of dew and condensation. The tent is completely wet inside and out.

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New Day Rising – Day 2

24 February 2025

Jaimathang Country

Willis Creek Bridge to 1150 metres Snowy Logging Road

The only sound is my tyres crunching over gravel on a moderate uphill. The birds are quiet, the wind is still. The day has creaked open with nary a creak, bird cry or branch swaying in the wind.

We are riding up the Willis Creek tributary, climbing high above the creek on the side of the valley wall. It’s all uphill for the first eight kms, on a pretty moderate grade. It’s steep enough in places for my chain to creak and click as it strains against the weight and grade. Yes, the only noise to start the day is my bike and my breathing.

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New Day Rising – Day 1

23 February 2025

Jaimathang Country

Lightning Creek Campground to Willis Creek Bridge – 9 kms

There are clouds hanging over the trip. Literal and figurative.

Wisps of moisture hang down in fingers of fog from clouds that cloak the surrounding hills. A steady rain falls as we pull into the campground.

I know there is a covered rotunda in the day use picnic area of this campground, and this will allow me to get all my gear together in a dry space. However, some arses have yanked the barriers out of the ground that prevent vehicles from accessing the grassy picnic area. They are camping next to the rotunda which they’ve taken over as part of their campsite.

Nigel parks far away from the rotunda and says, “I think it’s full.”

I reply, “That’s the day use area. They’re not allowed to camp there. They are just going to have to share.”

Nigel’s eyebrows raise, but he does not protest. He helps me pull out my panniers, fork bags and bike and then follows me as I quickly stride toward the rotunda through the rain. It really sucks to get rained on at 0 kms on Day 1 of a ride. I may be pretty shy, but I am absolutely not afraid of anyone, not even five bogans and their gargantuan dog that is barking at us.

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All the pieces left behind – Conclusion

Some endings are explosive and ragged. The pieces left behind reflect the trauma and tearing apart.

This jagged rhyolite is from an explosive phase of the Toombullup volcanics and the Wabonga Caldera.

Sometimes endings are really beginnings, laying down the foundation of the future.

And some endings are not endings – they are just the flow of time, breaking down some things while building up others. Time may be linear and constant, but it is not always experienced that way.

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All the pieces left behind – Days 3 and 4

4 kms (yeah, I know)

Day 3

There is that feeling you get when you wake before your alarm goes off. Do you peek at the clock to see how much longer you can sleep? Or do you just roll over and try to pretend you’ve not woken at all. If you peek at the clock, there is the relief when you see you’ve got a full hour to sleep until you have to get up or the disappointment when you’ve woken just seven minutes before the alarm.

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All the pieces left behind – Day 2

33 kms (14 miles)

Have you ever had a day that did not really go as you had seen it in your mind? Have you made decisions on the information available that turned out to be a bit misinformed?

With mobile phones allowing you to google any question you ever wanted to answer in real time and allowing instant access to weather reports and radar, it’s easy to forget how to make decisions for yourself and choose the best option. I’m reminded of this on the short ride today.

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