Quinalow to Dalby

2/06/2017

The Quinalow pub was full of colourful locals that night. There were lots of old grey hair hard looking types with ZZ Top shovel beards, but they were all fairly laid back having dinner with their wives and drinking socially at the bar. After my counter meal and a beer I was all set to spend as long as possible camped out in their dining room. But they closed quite early and I was gently ushered out to my tent across the road at the camp site.

As soon as I opened the pub door I was physically assaulted by a strong odour of cattle piss and dung. I don't know where it came from, but there were lots of cattle transport trucks moving through town during the day and the yards mustn't be far off. Several times during the night the strong stench came seeping into the tent on the cold night air, startling me awake. Two days later, the tent still stinks, even though I've thoroughly aired it. I wonder if I smell the same?

I was down to the last of my peanut butter in the morning and that was the final factor that had me deciding to head for Dalby and resupplying before heading further west. Originally the plan was to intersect with the main highway (A2) further west, trying to stay away from it for as long as possible. But peanut butter wins out over roadtrains every time.

It was a quiet 50 km ride over the last of the hills and into the plains.

It was time for a rest day anyway. So, I headed for the Pioneer Caravan Park and took a small heated cabin for two nights. Bliss to sleep in a real bed for a couple of nights... out of the cold.

Just as I was getting accustomed to them the hills are over. Tomorrow the ride west across the great Australian plains begins.