Day 494 | Parachilna Gorge: near, but not under, humungous Red Gums
80 km | zzOz total: 15,995 km
From the days of leaving Chillagoe I’ve been out on an ocean of not much, landmarks of significance as scarce as flowing water out here but since the final approach to Marree there’s been an eruption of topography. As if to compensate the Flinders Ranges has popped up, what it lacks in elevation it certainly makes up in colour and drama, kilometre after kilometre the beds of sedimentary rock is exposed on edge, a billion years of the Earth’s geological history eon show for those who can translate, but for those illiterate in the geological department there’s plenty to marvel at the superficial level.
From a distance the oscillations are at the violet end of the spectrum, pale as if daubed by some amateur watercolorist although darker than the ethereal sky at the horizon similarly drained of hue, but with the wave form of the hills becoming discernible on closer inspection the palette is extended, less mauve, heading quickly into the opposite end of the visible spectrum, ie, redder, the colours richer and equally unbelievable.
I’m making for Parachilna Gorge up on my way to the start, often termination, of the Mawson Trail at the one shop, one pub and not much else Blinman, an old mining relict from the 1850s.
I had a brief stop at the Prairie Hotel at the actual locality Parachilna, once a stop on the narrow gauge railway north, to try some of their famed roadkill fare, it’s highly regarded by Gourmet Traveller magazine I’m made aware and not only because of the obscure geographical positioning out here in Nowheresville.
I’ve previously shared a tasting platter, emu pate, buffalo salami, roo pastrami, etc, in the now distant past all the more pleasurable for delightful and appreciative company, but today I arrive after 3, there’s been a headwind gusty enough to embarrassingly blow the bike over while I was riding, well at a standstill, and the “all day” menu has finished, I’m 10 minutes late but the chef will knock me up a roo burger. Delicious, might not have the sheer bulk of previous constructions of this type but with a superb relish it certainly gets a 10 where it more usually matters for those not needing the calorific intake: taste.
I will be back in the dirt for much of the 930 km run into Adelaide via the Mawson and there’s an incline to get up to the gorge, off on the right is a splendid view of St Marys Peak, highest hillock in South Australia, off in the mauve colour range in the late afternoon heat, 37ºC today.
Not long later I find a track down to the creek 500 m away from the road and pitch the tent among but not under, dropping limbs are an issue to novices, the absolute massive River Red Gums, ain’t seen them for a long while, the diameter of a few is well above 3 m, 10 feet, you would need 5 or 6 friends holding hands to encircle each of these monsters.
Magpies sing: I’m back in heaven.