19th July - Fairview to Musgrave Road House

Nigel says....Big concerns about Gordon last night. He was definately not well (properly - not manflu). His wrist was hurting him and he appeared dehydrated. This morning when we awoke it was clear that Gordon was not going to be able to ride today. Thankfully Colin was here to help him and get him away for medical attention after he had rested properly, but it did not feel good cyling off alone at 0700 hours. Both Colin and I were concerned about him.

Gordon's condition distracted us from the great location we had set up camp. The dawn chorus started early again and we heard dingoes howling during the night. I thought that there was someone creeping around the tents during the night. No I wasn't being paranoid, on investigation it was loads of cane toads hopping around on the leaves and undergrowth. This morning we had breakfast to the sounds of the flock of galahs.

The corrugations were dreadful to start with, but soon cleared up and I started to make 12 kilometers per hour - but much slower on the soft shitty stuff. Made really rapid progress when a stretch of bitumen appeared, and I was at the Hann River Roadhouse well ahead of schedule at 1030 hours.

The Hann River Roadhouse must class as one of the best servos I have visited in Australia, or annywhere for that matter. As I cycled across the Hann River a bloke was leaning on a post and said: "Bugger me mate! You're keen." I was going to explain that appearances can be deceptive, but decided not to bother...

On arrival at the roadhouse I was met by the lady who ran the place. She knew all about us and had passed us on the road the previous day. She had a rainbow lorikeet on her shoulder when I met her. This was 'bunji' who had been raised as an abandoned chick and thought he was human. He was quite happy to sit on anybody's shoulder and spent most of the time hanging off the lady's shoulder/bra strap. Whilst at the roadhouse I was introduced to the tame emu whose legs had been painted the Queensland colours to mark the State of Origin series. I even witnessed a bloke with a traffic cone on his head topped with a cap walking round after the emu in what I can only assume was a sort of mating ritual. Well we are quite far north.... Kookaburras were flying in to pick up meat that had been left for them. All in all it was a wildlife extravaganza.

It was then back to the grind of the road. The Development Road is almost completely straight. A red line stretching through the bush as far as the eye could see. It was punctuated by dust clouds of approaching vehicles which could be seen miles ahead. Vehicles again did not slow down, but all very friendly and most waving. I was absolutely covered with a thick layer of orange dust. The road conditions were really variable. There were terrible corrugations which shook both me and the bike and progress was really slow. Where this was combined with soft gravel I had to get off and push. Fortunately this was not too often. I also had stretches where the going was good and I got along nicely. There was a blissful section where the graders were actually working which was better than many sections of the Bruce Highway! I had to go from side to side trying to find the best route, so I had to be very aware of traffic. No iPod today as I had to concentrate the whole time.

Around 1200 hours Gordon and Colin drew alongside. Gordon did not look good and was clearly in pain. Colin was taking him to the clinic in Coen. We agreed to meet up at the Musgrave Roadhouse later in the day. I was feeling quite battered and tired when I rolled into the Musgrave Roadhouse at 1600 hours completely orange and the subject of some curiosity from the campers. I cycled 120 kilometers today. Whilst waiting for Gordon and Colin, Hildegarde, a nice lady from a pensioners tour gave me $5 as a contribution. Thank you Hildegarde.

Colin and Gordon arrivedd shortly afterwards - Gordon with his arm in plaster and a sling. He has broken his wrist and now has to stop pedalling. He is absolutely gutted and I share his disappointment.

After a few beers and some excellent local barramundi morale has improved.

Thoughts and comments:

• The majority of the traffic today was southbound.
• Butt situation sore but surprisingly stable ... so far.
• Hands have taken a real battering today.
• Snack of the day: Hann River Roadhouse - corned beef salad sandwich with cheese.
• Tune of the day: No iPod - but hummed Una Paloma Blanca quite a lot... I hope I am not loosing it...I blame Gordon for placing the tune in my mind earlier in the trip...
• Fact of the day: The Fairview Cattle Station has over 1000 kilometers of track to maintain.

Tomorrow Coen - hills and Colin and Gordon say there are some real shitty patches - Ho Hum...

Gordon says ...

One of the most disappointing and upsetting days of my life.

I woke up at about 3 am with a bad pain in my wrist. Woke up again with the alarm at 6 am, but apparently was very disorientated, and didn't really know where I was, started vomiting, and passed out on the bed. When I woke up later, Nigel had gone, and I was a mess. I had no real recollection of the night before, or even much of the afternoon. Apparently, I had crashed my bike a bunch of times on the terrible track we were on, said next to nothing at all over dinner, then collapsed unconscious against the tent. Colin and Nigel dragged me to bed, and then by checking my water consumption over the day, figured out I'd let myself get completely dehydrated, a situation probably exacerbated by my ongoing poor health. They force fed me water for a while until they thought I'd be OK.

Still pretty much off my nut, Colin drove me to the hospital at Coen, where the full consequences of all of this has finally dawned on me - I've broken my wrist, and my ride is over - over 4000 kms and I'm not going to be able to finish. To say I've been upset doesn't really cover it.

The worst thing is that I may have done this to myself - the guys I ride with in Brisbane have often told me I don't drink enough. On the other hand, I have a big lump on the back of my head, and a corresponding bash mark on my helmet from one of the times I came off, so maybe it wasn't dehydration, but rather concussion. Also, it turns out the tyres I have on my bike are half the width they need to be up here, so the locals say - 'No wonder you crashed, poor thing ...' - but I don't suppose it really matters either way - it's all over. To those who sponsored me, sorry I didn't make it. I tried my hardest.