The kindness of strangers

As the sun started dipping beneath the hills and the light went from an amber afternoon glow to the dappled grey twilight, it became increasing apparent that we had no idea where we were. Somewhere we had missed a turn and judging from the general feel, we were a long, long way from the car. We had no lights, food, or warm clothes and no option but to continue along the track we were on – at least this track had tyre marks on it.

About 10 minutes later, we came across a large sign showing the nightcap and wian wian national park with a little X showing “you are here”. It was what I feared. The little X was on the other side of the enourmous map to Rummery park camp ground which was where our car was parked. The car was probably 25 k’s away (almost all up hill) and there would be no more than 20 minutes more of useable light left before pitch darkness.

Suse was spent, she had given her all to best the climb at the very start of the trail which went on for 6-8 k’s, so anything uphill was a real battle for her now. We plodded on. Eventually we came out amongst fields and cows. All the cows stopped eating, lifting there heads out of the grass as if to say “what the hell are you doing out here?”. They silently watched us ride past then went back to eating. They knew exactly where they were, I wasn’t feeling so comfortable.

We finally hit sealed roads and decided to continue following the red markers that had gotten us into this mess in the first place. We turned left and climbed then descended then climbed again, only to arrive at a lock gate which was heavily fortified and impassable (it must have been opened for the event?). Now we were faced with two options… climb over it into what was clearly labelled as a construction zone or turn around and make a right at the previous road junction.  Thankfully common sense prevailed and we turned around to climb the same hills again.

I remembered a small town called Dorroughby marked on the big map, so I figured I could leave susan at a corner store there and make a sprint for the car while the light still held. We wound along the winding sealed roads passing very little but cows and trees. We were chased by an enormous dog from a farmers house, then we passed two more houses then more paddocks. Then it dawned on me that those three houses were Dorroughby and to describe it as a “town” was probably optimistic. So ended that contingency plan, we would push on together.

A road junction showed “Mininon Falls 10km”. We weren’t exactly at Minion Falls but it was close enough to the camp ground for me to be able to find my way back. Susan was really flagging by now. It was at this point that the real climbing began. The road just went up and up and up. Suse gave it all she had but about a kilometer into it, she popped. It was inevitable, she wasn’t going to make it and since there was no way I was leaving her on the side of the road to await her fait to a red neck, gun toting, lunatic hill billy, we had but one option – knock on a strangers door and plead our case.

The next house we came across had lights on which was promising and didn’t seem to have any enormous dogs, so we dejectedly made our way up the drive. Suse calmly and politely knocked on the door and was lucky enough to strike a lovely couple her were more than happy to take us to the car park with the bikes in the back of the ute.

Ian expertly tied the bikes to the back of the ute with a piece of rope the size of a large shoelace and we were off. Suse was all grins now that the night was turning from a disaster to an adventure, I was starting to relax a little too. Now Ian it turns out fell in love with Byron shortly after he dropped out of school at 16. He found it during his “acid days” and joined a nudist hippy commune somewhere on the beach.  He spent some time floating around Nimbin and just traveling before settling down with a wife and a property. We had discovered a true Byron local. None of these Gucci wearing corporate shells that dominate the main street, a real life acid tripping hippy. Outstanding!

Ian took great delight in showing us just how dark it would have been had we tried to walk along the trail without any lights by turning the headlights off in the car while driving along on more than one occasion, it scared the crap out of susie. He made great conversation and before we knew it, we were back at our car. The warm, safe, predictable car.

We said our goodbyes and thanks to Ian, loaded everything back up  (somehow the bikes had made it while held on by the shoelace) and made our way back to Byron with our tail between our legs. Next time I go on a ride in an unknown area, It will only be an out and back along the same road so that I clearly known just how far from the car I am.

So thanks to the kindness of strangers, a miserable, scary experience was turned into a fun filled adventure although not one I care to do again. Thanks Ian.