Another jaunt along the Cox Pen Rd

Last night I decided I'd get up really early and cycle around to Mandorah on the Cox Peninsular Rd... I had intended to do most of the ride in the dark but was somewhat unprepared and found myself fixing my tail light when I should have been peddling!
Instead of leaving home at 3am I didn't wake up until 3:45am and didn't actually get on the road until about 4:30am. A very nice hour for cycling but not quite as early as I would have liked. I have always found the best way for me to leave all my troubles behind... is to get on my bike and leave all my troubles behind! With the thought that I might just keep on riding and not look back... (I always manage to get it out of my system by the end of the day, after a long ride)

I have thought a lot about cycling at night without lights but realistically this would only work on outback roads where there's no traffic. This morning there was no moon to ride by and I really needed my headlamp. The dark path between McMillans Rd and Howard Springs has all kinds of potential dangers if you can't see where you're going! The main hindrance to riding without a lights is the traffic. Riding on the Stuart Highway without a taillight could lead to a very short journey interrupted by a cattle truck. The other issue the problem of oncoming traffic... Even though much of the road is divided, headlights still pierce the night and any oncoming traffic will ruin a cyclists night vision. At least with a head light I can see something once the initial glare has worn off.

It was a beautiful morning for a ride, the sky was clear and without a moon I could see all the stars... for company I had Tom Petty on my music player and Jupiter and Venus to watch over me as I peddled. These two made powerful companions.

Light finally began to filter through the sky just as I was leaving Noonamah, I was really starting to like riding at night and had hoped to get a bit further but was happy with my progress. Riding by torchlight is actually really nice, it made it much easier for me to stop anticipating what might be around the next corner or how far I had come. Most of my attention was focused on the tiny portion of road that came into the beam of my headlight, nothing more. As I rolled on my mind began to unwind, I pondered some ideas and gave them up to the road. Free at last!

Hard to breath, hard to see!

Berry Springs CFA, have their work cut out for them!

Approaching Berry Springs I cycled through a think haze of smoke, which lasted almost all the way to the Blackmore River. There were several tree trunks burning in the scrub by the side of the road and the silhouettes of dead trees all over... everything was blackened right up to the canopy. It was easy to see how quickly the bush was being thinned out by successive fires, this is Gamba country and it is copping a pounding! So were my lungs!

Blackmore River Bridge

Blackmore River Bridge (posing with bike again)

When I got to the Blackmore river bridge I stopped for my second breakfast and the obligatory photograh. I haven't done much riding over the past month... Too busy. My legs and arse were starting to feel the strain of this ride. After sitting by the river for a while I inspected my bike. She's pretty rough now. I really only ride this bike on long road trips and the rest of the time she's sitting around gathering cobwebs, with vines growing through her spokes. I did nothing before leaving home to make sure the old thing would make it all the way around except put some air the tyres. On closer inspection I realized that the rear tyre had vertually worn to a completely flat surface, it was becoming thin, and covered in small cracks! Maybe a new tire would have been a good idea... and the chain had started squeaking... I can't remember when I last oiled it!  Oh well off we go again!

As usual by the time I reached the Blackmore river my energy was spent! I pressed on regardless (thank goodness it was a cool day!). The panier was full of food and I pulled up at 20km intervals to eat. Everything tasted amazing! My energy was so low and muscles were exhausted so I tried to compensate with food! So much for improving my stamina and condition... When in doubt Pig Out!
Here's what I ate on the trip:

2 x Pink Lady Apples
6 x Museli Bars (the sweet sugary type)
1 x box of shapes biscuits
3 x liter water

As usual the second half of the ride was less fun than the first. My shoulders and wrists were aching from the riding position, knees were unable to bear heavy peddling (they don't want to bend at all now!) and my feet had gone numb from having to wear shoes! Oh yeh and the toe I'm pretty sure I'd fractured a few weeks ago was telling me it didn't want to do this anymore and puffed up a bit causing more numbness and pain in my feet.

The sea was a milky blue but clear beside the Mandora Pier.

Arriving in Mandorah the sea was incredibly flat, no wind. I collapsed in the shade of the shed on the pier and waited for the ferry. Within moments I'd drifted into a semi dream half sleep. Soon the ferry arrived, full of tourists headed for the pub. I dragged myself and my bike down the stairs and boarded the vessel... by now my body had given up the fight and I just wanted to lay down somewhere and have a nap! It was a grueling journey, yet again, but somehow the physical punishment does something good to my soul!

The trip home from the ferry was very slow. I'd read that Kris Larson was manning his mobile caffe, 'Brown Sugar', down at the yacht club and I was craving a cup so headed off that way but must have missed him by a day or two... Bummer! Dragged myself up the hill to Fanny Bay and then laboured along the bike path to a shady spot near the beach on Nightcliff foreshore where I lay down and dozed. I eventually made it home just before two, had a shower and collapsed... completely spent.

Stripping it down

Today the area outside the building where I work will be cleansed with smoke.

Having given my statement to police I was informed of the identity of the deceased. He was a Yolngu man from a community in North East Arnhem Land. Family and ceremony leaders have already arrived in Darwin and will proceed with the sad task of grieving and cleansing which must happen for life to go on for those of us still living!

Having spoken with the designated liaison for this ceremony I was kind of surprised how calm and organized he was. After all this was quite a shocking and situation, blood had been shed. The people in our workplace were quite horrified by the scene which greeted them on Wednesday morning. But I guess for Yolngu these things happen all to often! Death is always close and so many people live in such unpleasant circumstances, they are forced to deal with situations like this far too often!

I will give my condolences and do what I can as the period of grief proceeds, but something inside me is demanding that I must change my own personal direction in life. What is it that I am supposed to do? 

I have been reflecting on my own world and the limited personal interactions I have with people around me. I find it very difficult to find a single person with whom I can talk, that actually bothers to listen to anything other than what is already going on inside their own head. I watch. I wait for a sign that they are there and far too often I discover nothing more than a childlike demand to move away from the idea or subject and back onto Self! Of course I am also guilty of this but I am finding it harder and harder to stomach. What on earth am I supposed to do with this?

I have attempted to join in community but have found it void of community. When I've been amongst a group of people I cant see beyond a bunch of individuals all scrambling for little bits of attention for themselves. Talking over each other, bragging, showing off, name dropping, pretending to sound clever... On and on it goes and rarely even the vaguest hint that anyone is really there for any other reason than to receive the attention of the others... This environment itself leads me to feelings of inadequacy and hopelessness. Maybe I'm not good enough? Maybe they're all so much cleverer than me and I don't deserve to be here... I realize now although many people might be more clever, more witty, more sociable, that's not the actual problem. It's time to realize that in this world, which is full of profound paradoxes. Although we are all in this together and connected by blood and the mystery of the cosmos.... We have to face the fact that in this journey and everything we experience, we walk alone. Why go looking for approval love and understanding from people? They are just caught in the same rat maze seeking for themselves what they think they need, they are lacking and what others can give them... No person can fulfill that empty space, to believe that would be the ultimate in self delusion!

I dropped in on a friend, who once he took a breath from unloading all the amazing things he's done lately, his fears and desires, how he's making all these connections in his own world etc.. etc.. I told him about the tragic event that happened at my work and deep down hoped that there would be some kind of acknowledgement that... well this was a heavy thing, and maybe worthy of a sign of compassion, understanding, concern for the deceased and his family.... Nope! Big mistake. I did get a sense that he was just a little agitated that I might divert the conversation, to start talking about something that might shove his own life experience left of center stage... for even a moment... What do we really care for each other?

Generally when I interact with others, there is a part of me that wants someone to give me some attention! I suppose it's kind of normal but given the state most people I come in contact with it's quite an unrealistic expectation. Is this a legitimate need or just a lot of crap?! It's time to grow up! Time to stop playing these ridiculous and futile games! Have you ever tried to talk to an addict who's strung out waiting for a fix? Or a drunk with the DT's? Or even a smoker who's missed his hourly cigarette! Anything you say is just background noise!

The scent of rancid coconut

There is a foot on my head and laughter at my back,
Nothing I do will release me from this trap.
Run around, jump, spin, stagger and fall!
Trapped in a spastic dimension,
Like a clown in a glass box.
Jump, spin, stagger, run around again
You can struggle and strive if you like.
To all ends, No difference made!
You will be greeted by more of the same.
Try to make it work but some things never change!
No talent, No chance, nor music or art,
Just these spastic jitters and a crumpled heart.


I lit a fire to calm my aching soul
Smoke billowed through the yard and the street
A few coconuts for fuel, and their rancid fumes filled the air
Peace torn apart in the smoke and choking stench
Dark birds gathered to pick over burned offerings
My wretchedness exposed
Ready to be devoured like flesh from scorched bones
No time to ponder or chance to grieve
Back to bread labor put away your dreams!

Sometimes every effort is met with calamity, shame and ridicule...
I take comfort, to laugh heartier, louder than the din that surrounds me!
Not hollow or empty but maniacally in Zen.
All is ridiculous, Lets not be serious!
The Gods of Olympia might scoff and scorn but to this life I was born. And so will proceed, whither my headstone does read, Here lies a joke, mock him while he sleeps!