Read Ebook: From Ocean to Ocean: Across a Continent on a Bicycle An Account of a Solitary Ride From Adelaide to Port Darwin by Murif Jerome J

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Ebook has 859 lines and 52243 words, and 18 pages

any other agency I entered. Besides being on the look-out for a good mount, I was also seeking a firm which I could, if occasion arose, recommend others to deal with.

At last my choice was made. I paid the money, said nothing of my plans, and no embarrassing questions were asked.

Being now resolved to take upon my own shoulders all the consequences of failure--if I should fail--I erased the maker's name and substituted my own favorite word "Diamond" in its place.

If I broke down--well, a moral might be pointed on the evil results of riding an unknown make of bicycle. If there came success--well, again, I should have no objection to making my acknowledgment to civil people.

The machine I chose and purchased came nearly up to my ideal for this present purpose. Let us look at it.

A roadster; two 28 in. wheels; weight, 29lbs; gear, 62 1/2 ; handy interlocking arrangement; dust-proof caps over pedal bearings; bearings not of complicated construction; tangent spokes; the sprocket and back gear-wheels well set on their shafts.

I could not find fault with any part of the machine. Its general appearance pleased me.

The new saddle came off, and an old and comfortable one, with an appropriate tool bag, took its place. This tool bag was circular, and my drinking vessel fitted closely over its end. An old, tried, and trusty inflator was added to this part of the equipment.

Then I ordered a more than ordinarily thick tandem tyre to be fitted on the hind wheel in place of the one of the regular roadster pattern, and an endless rubber strip to be solutioned on over the tread of the front wheel.

As for the rest I did not look for gear case or cyclometer. If the country to be traversed came up to expectations in point of roughness, the former would be torn away--an objection which applied also to the cyclometer, as the only reliable make I knew of when in use protruded from the outside of one of the front forks. Neither was missed; and I was glad I did not burden myself with them.

The brake was allowed to remain, and a bell was added. Both of these I intended to throw away when the beaten roads were left behind.

The equipment was completed with a spare air tube, chain-link and rivets, copper wire, file, spanners and plyers, solution and patching rubber, a long length of strong cord, tooth brush, compass, and small bottle of matches.

A pair of luggage-carriers were fitted to the handle bars; on these was strapped a roll of light waterproof sheeting, 6 1/2 feet by 4 feet, containing a change of linen, pair of socks, handkerchief, soap, towel, a small mirror--my extravagance!--a comb, and three small waterproof bags in which to stow papers, etc., in the event of heavy rain falling. A leather satchel slung over one shoulder, and so fastened that it could not slip down, proved a handy receptacle for odds and ends. A rug and other things of which I may have occasion to make mention later on were forwarded to Hergott.

I had intended carrying front and back wheel duplicate shafts, but did not.

A tin to hold one quart of water was strapped against the stays, between the top of the rear wheel and the saddle.

A day was spent in riding through the hills near Adelaide with the object of testing the new machine, and that I might adjust its chain and bearings to my liking, learning the while what I could of its peculiarities, if it had any disagreeable ones--in fact, to break it in.

On the evening of my fourth day in Adelaide, my very few arrangements being nearly complete, I rode down to Glenelg, obtained the local post-master's promise of a signature, and spent the night at the Pier Hotel. Next morning the P.M. walked down with me and stood on the pier--smiling, I observed--while I cycled down the firm sandy beach into the ocean; then, having turned about, found myself dramatically waving my hat to the water.

That was the baptism of Diamond in the Southern Ocean.

The obliging officer entered a short statement in my voucher book to the effect that he had been witness to the incomprehensible ceremony.

And now northwards through a continent.

Still having a little private business to transact in Adelaide, I remained there for another night and well into the following forenoon. Then the bicycle, loaded now for the expedition, was lifted downstairs; I shook hands with the landlady , told her I might not be back for tea and not to keep it waiting, and quietly pedalled away on my glistening Diamond, without a single person being by to see me off or wish me luck.

But there was the glorious sense of having resolutely acted an independent part. A glad feeling of being alive, untrammelled, free. And so we gaily sped along. It was a very dance on wheels.

We are on the track at last!

Kapunda, 50 miles from Adelaide, gives us shelter for the night. To Gawler is half the distance. The road is good only to four miles from Adelaide, thence bumpy macadam, with clay stretches, to within five miles of Gawler. To the right, the Flinders Ranges; flat country showing to the left. Agriculture everywhere.

Beyond Gawler, I was advised to take the middle one of three roads, known as the Freeling; but after trying it, cut off to the right and got on to the Greenock road. Here was splendid running--down grades, too. Metalled with ironstone--some grand patches. So good that I passed the words "Post Office" at She-oak Log without dismounting to ask someone to sign for me.

About and after She-oak Log was undulating country, with the ranges showing now and again to the right. At a little place named Daveyston, I halted to pick up a signature and a long drink. A resident put down the one, I the other.

Arrived at Greenock. Visited madam the gracious post-mistress, and obtained her signature. Prized, because it is the first in a lady's hand in the book. Then on to Kapunda. Undulating country, with good riding all the way. Arrived about 6 o'clock--hungry.

This afternoon I met a cyclist seated in a spring dray, steadying his machine with one hand and himself with the other. They were noisily approaching at a jig-jog. We stopped.

"Good-day!"

"Good-day!"

"Accident?" I asked.

"No--only this is less like graft. And where are you bound for?"

"Head of the line if all goes well!"

"Oodnadatta?"

"Um."

"Mean it--on business?"

"Oh no, merely out for a ride."

But my new mount had betrayed me to this wheeling Sherlock Holmes.

"Ah, you'll get over that sort of thing by-an'-bye. Just after I'd learned to stick on, I was like you--

The stiffest breeze was never too stiff, Nor the highest hill too high.

Ha, ha! Not bad, is it? But as I was saying, I got over it. The bloom is off the rye'-din. Ha, ha!"

"Oh, come now," I expostulated meekly.

"Never mind, no 'fence, you know. Bye-bye." Then to the driver--"S'pose we see if we can't knock a sprint out of the old quad., eh? Ha, ha!"

And he laughed along the Greenock road.

From Kapunda next morning. The road excellent, built up of ironstone, broken small. Gentle inclines, and longish down-grades. Undulating country, fertile and farmed. Before one quite reaches Waterloo, a cemetery is seen away to the left, remindful of a battle field.

The track continues hilly and ironstony to Black Springs; soon after that, at Stony Hut, a rivulet of brackish water crosses the road. Then one gets amongst the highest rises yet encountered. Through these, known as the Black Hills, winds the road, keeping fairly level for eight or nine miles, and so into the Burra. Rather a pleasant ride those last few miles, gums and peppermint or box trees picturesquely dotting the landscape, until at the Burra the ruins of once famous copper-mining works displease the eye.

From the Burra to Mount Bryan an excellent level metalled road keeps close beside the railway line; but a couple of miles beyond Hallett, the cyclist will come on unmade roads, so that he will have only fair riding to Yarcowie and Terowie.

Tyre troubles cause a delay between Yarcowie and Terowie. Ahead are cross-roads innumerable, and it being already sundown I reluctantly decide to stay at Terowie the night. 145 miles from Adelaide.

A drought lay heavily upon the land, giving the township in the eyes of the skurrying passer-by an atmosphere of even greater somnolence than usual. A church, a store , a blacksmith's shop, a hotel, a school-house, with half-a-dozen suburban tenements, constitute a township. It is affirmed that there are inhabitants, that on Sundays they go to church punctiliously, and that on one other given day in the week the farmers come in from round about with their butter and their eggs to the store, and then the township is "busy." Of the other five days there is no record.

An early start was made from Terowie on an absurdly round-about road to Petersburg--unmade, too, but level, yet only middling for travelling on Head winds, besides.

Breakfasted, and steered for Orroroo; this township appearing to be right in the path of anyone making northwards. Much crossing and re-crossing of the railway. At half-way, Blackrock is passed. A hard, smooth road, running through the fertile Blackrock plains, now withered and parched; high ranges showing afar off on either hand--and so to Orroroo. Thence it is only a few miles to Walloway, where another rivulet is come upon. To Eurelia the road is not good, but it improves as one journeys towards Carrieton.

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