river deep, mountain high

So I'd decided not to rush away from Canberra as it a beautiful sunny morning. Instead I went for a swim in the river. It IS a recognised swimming and cruisy sunbathing area, on the Murrumbingee, and a fair few others had the same idea. Spent a couple of hours with my kit off, alternately sunning and reading, then swimming in the brownish, languid water. Together with some pretty big round fish. It was quite a rocky area, and I think at another time of year there'd be rapids. Finally tore myself away knowing I really needed to make up some miles. So back on ol' Blue and we were hitting the highway, heading for perhaps the last 'challenge' of my big road trip adventure... the Snowy Mountains range.

My plan was to cross the mountains and find somewhere beyond to camp for the night. By the time I reached the area it was already mid afternoon, and there were ominously dark clouds ahead. But, when's the weather stopped me so far? I pressed on, entering the Kosciuszko National Park, and into the shadow of Australia's tallest peak. I was the only person headed IN... and lots of bikers and four by fours were heading out? It was a Sunday afternoon, after all, and people with jobs to go back to tomorrow were rightly headed back home.

The lady at the park gateway reassured me that it was Ok to press on, and I'd be out the other side in around one and a half hours.. Which probably would have been the case had I not been having so much fun. This was biking nirvana. Not since the Great Ocean Road four weeks ago had I had to contend with such devilishly twisty roads. Winding up through the forest covered hills, my ears popped twice with the change of altitude and I really felt the fall in temperature and strengthening winds. Still no traffic headed my way, and I passed just a handful coming down. And then there was snow! Mercifully high above me on sheltered areas of the mountains... it probably won't last much longer as summer hots up.

The road was generally good, though loose gravel and potholes in places mean you have to stay alert, not just gaze in wonder at the scenery. Every time I rounded a bend I felt like stopping to take another photograph. It was SO peaceful when I did stop... which was far too often. Passing through deserted ski resorts and places whose names related to their history. Dead Horse Gap and Perisher Valley weren't exactly friendly-sounding! But those dark clouds passed peacefully by, and in the early evening sunshine I rolled into the village of Khancoban... an hour and a half later than if I'd just stayed on the bike, but where would have been the fun in that? I set out to breathe everything in, and that's what I did.

Tired, but exhilarated, I stopped off at the only pub in town for a cold 'schooner' of beer, then another, and a hearty meal. Chatted bikes and routes with fellow customers and landlord before stumbling off to find Blue and a tucked-away piece of grass to camp for the night. Sat there in the twilight until dark, just totally chilled out. and then crawled into the green coffin again and slept soundly. All that fresh, clean air had really blown me away....