So far our gadding about in the Minibago has consisted of weekends or long weekends away. The reason for this is that it has been a quite deliberate policy for us not to attempt a long trip without firstly thoroughly testing out the van, our preparations and the stuff that we take away with us. So, with some leave granted from Helena’s work and a thorough check-over of the van from my mechanic, we set out to explore the North Coast, a little at a time.
While logging 600km days doesn’t daunt me at all, I determined that we would take things easy, not try for huge distances and stop wherever and whenever we liked. There was no plan as such, just a mud map of Days 1-3 and then after that, who knows?
So Day 1 followed the familar Putty Road route with lunch at the Grey Gum Cafe and first night’s stop at Nicko (my old BHS school mate) and Pauline (his wife’s) place at Broke. It was a STINKER of a day, the air-con is not at its best and we arrived at the end of the day to a 41 degree afternoon and the prospect of the van being pretty uncomfortable in which to sleep.
The view from Lenny’s place is pretty special. Sleep was a bit of a drama but the company and the constant good humour made it all worthwhile, as it always is. Here is an example.
Day 2 was set to be the classic Buckett’s/Thunderbolts run to Walcha. It happened but not quite how we planned. The day was hot again and a detour from Singleton to Gresford via a pretty dodgy backroad should have warned us. From Gresford, the road across through Dungog and on to the Buckett’s at Stroud Road is appallingly bad, the worst I have ever experienced. Oddly, Buckett’s, often the target of my derision, was good, much better than it has been in my memory. Lunch at Gloucester and onto Thunderbolts. It was in the high 30’s and the long drag up the hill to Carson’s (it must be 8 or so kms) sort of messed things up, like badly. The Minibago struggled, hovering on the edge of overheating as we crawled up the long, continuous drag. Half way us the temp gauge went off the scale and, even though the auxiliary fan was on full bore, we had to pull over. I didn’t dare kill the engine so, after stopping for a short while with the engine idling and the temperature refusing to go down, we pulled out and continued climbing.
By the time we reached Carson’s Pioneer Lookout at the top of the hill, it seems like an ETERNITY later, the gauge was almost off the scale and the temperature warning light was glowing. We stopped, killed the engine and heaved a sigh of relief. After 15 minutes or so, I was game enough to open the water reservoir to refill it. It didn’t boil over so I was comforted, but, when I tried to start the engine before adding the water, it wouldn’t start.
Obviously it needed to cool down more so we left it and sat down to wait. It was stinking hot, there isn’t a stick of shade at the lookout and the public toilet there was worse than you’d find in any third world village. When things go wrong…. Over the next hour I attempted to restart the van half a dozen times. Each time it would chug to life then promptly die. I risked refilling the water even though I know you’re not supposed to and, after a long wait and no success, I called the NRMA. 2 HOURS to wait according to their SMS.
Two hours and many attempts at restarting passed. I finally rang again to find out what was happening to be told that he was very busy but would be there within the hour! As the end of the hour drew nigh, as was dusk, I tried one more time and, hooray, the engine burst into life, buzzed around to 4000 RPM for a moment then settled into a contented idle. No sooner had I done so than the NRMA tilt tray crested the hill behind us….figures. The serviceman checked everything and helpfully suggested that we either proceed on our way since the symptoms all appeared correct, or he could put us on the tilt tray, take us BACK to Gloucester and check it out more thoroughly in the morning. Unsurprisingly, we voted to press on.
Incidentally, a passer-by who stopped volunteered the information that, when climbing steep hills in an automatic vehicle it is best to shift down to 2nd or even 1st and let the vehicle take itself. I didn’t know that.
We hoofed it into Walcha (a further 90kms) with no problems and arrived as night fell. A shower, Mexican for dinner and a comfortable bed at our friends’ place instead of looking after ourselves seemed like paradise after the day we’d had and we accepted all offers gratefully.
In the morning we accompanied our host on a walking tour of the lovely town of Walcha. I know the town well and I know and appreciate its commitment to public art. Helena has never been to Walcha so the tour was an amazement upon amazement as we marvelled over how the local council and artistic community has invested most of the commonplace and ordinary structures and installments in the town with an artistic flavour.
Here is a footbridge over a creek. It could easily have been just a utilitarian object but they have made it practical and beautiful at the same time.
Tuesday was cooler, hooray. An easy drive down the Oxley to Port Macquarie. Again I contrived to travel the Oxley on the day that Gingers is closed but the disappointment was more than made up for by a visit to Apsley Falls, just out of Walcha. Wow, well worth stopping to look.
So, that took care of the first 3 days. We’re in Sawtell now and I’ll catch up with the journal of the last two days when I get internet access again. Are we having fun yet? Heck, yes.