Day 385 | Archer River roadhouse: more company for the evening
69 km | zzOz total: 10,900 km
The Development Road isn’t so much fun.
I avoided the morning rush by hanging around making phone calls which in retrospect was a reasonable move. I didn’t count them but a couple of hundred vehicles raced past in any case, a couple of them insanely zipping through on my left, I was maybe a third of the way across the road, disconcerting when you can’t follow their progress in your mirror.
The dust isn’t so bad for a single car but around 4, the sun getting lower, I had a convoy of about 30 vehicles in 8 minutes, no respite from the thick fog, a few visible faces were youthful, some yahoos, the oncoming cars popping into visibility mostly had their lights on.
At the campground, they are either $10, or $5 at Coen, worth it for the cleanup potential plus the almighty burgers, the other drivers shake their heads at where people have been overtaking, in the blind dust storm or on crests, etc.
I’ve only 35 km more of the madness before I turn off to the Iron Range National Park, the drivers on the diversions may possibly be more of the sensible type.
The question, that’s really The Question, is still asked, where are you going, well, durr, as if that ain’t obvious.
It’s referred to as The Tip.
I always reply: I’m on a pilgrimage, I don’t know why I’m going. Or what I’ll do when I get there.
I don’t need to state the implied: we’re all lemmings.