Watch this space
Part 1: the ride to the Pentecost River
Up and at ’em! After a pleasant night under the stars with and a serving of Christine’s morning porridge we got on the Kurunji Track again for the last 4.5 km to the Pentecost River crossing. The usual two wheel ruts in the grass for the first 2 km but then the track got into the sand, sand churned up by ute after uteload of fishermen heading to their spot. Heavy work pushing the loaded bikes through the sand until we popped out on the Gibb River Road a hundred metres short of the Pentecost River. Well done!
The Pentecost is famous for its large crocodiles, not having a bridge and often being waist deep depending on rainfall and the tides. Some local fishermen told us to be careful as there are large crocs underwater on both sides of the ford. You can’t see them as you fill your water bottles but they know you are there and if it wasn’t so cold (low 30’s C) they would be hungry but in mid winter they generally couldn’t be bothered eating.
We got to it at low tide after an unusually dry wet season. I walked my bike across without even getting my socks wet in my bike sandals. How lucky was that!
AND THIS IS WHERE MY WHEELS FELL OFF, OR AT LEAST MY LEGS.
Although I felt fine at breakfast by the time we reached the river I was feeling weak. Linda was very worried that I was getting heat exhaustion but I reckoned I was OK as I had been drinking lots, was still peeing out light coloured urine and was still sweating.
Anyway, after filling our water bottles we remounted and rode westward on the actual Gibb River Road. I was soon dropping behind Linda and Christine with Bruce dropping back to keep an eye on me.
After a couple of kilometres I was in trouble; weak and needing frequent stops but otherwise feeling OK. As I lay under a tree recovering Bruce waited for me and eventually we made it on another kilometre or so to where the girls had been given oranges by passing motorists Colin and Leanne. Bruce and I were also given oranges and ate them as the girls rode on.
Bruce and I eventually caught up with the girls at the turnoff to Home Valley Station (closed as a farmstay because of Covid 19) where they were talking with Colin and Leanne (I found out later that the girls had stopped Colin and Leanne with a view to getting me help out in their car).
Our Linda was very worried about me by this stage and I had to admit that I could not go on.
After a minimum of discussion I conceded that I had to accept the lift at least to Ellenbrae Station farmstay where I could possibly recover. I loaded my bike onto Colin’s camper trailer and piled in to the cab and set off in air conditioned comfort. Bruce, Christine and Linda set off to ride the 110 km to Ellenbrae Station.
The sign on the closed gate said that Ellenbrae was closed because of Covid 19. However because of my worsening condition (I was starting to feel slightly nauseous and very weak) and as
Leanne had a vague connection to the owners of the relatively nearby Diggers Rest station we opened the gate and drove in.
Ellenbrae really was very closed. The managers Logan and Larissa were away at Home Valley at a farewell party for the managers there and had left caretakers Mark and Lorraine at Ellenbrae. The caretakers took a look at me, were also worried, checked with the boss at Home Valley and gave me a sports drink and put me to bed to see if I recovered. They even came in every couple of hours to check to see if I was OK.
To all at Ellenbrae, thankyou so much for your help and care. I was much further into heat exhaustion bordering on heat stroke than I knew. Our Linda had a better idea as she had seen heat stroke in her work as a field geologist.
Part 2. It gets more serious.