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Richo's Notes From the Nullabor:

Paul (Richo) Richardson set off on Tuesday (25th July) along with his cycling partner in crime Regina, to cycle across the country dressed in a Bilby suit in an effort to raise money to save the Bilby.  Click here to see the official explanation of what they hope to achieve and why and how you can donate a few dollars to help the cause.  We'll be posting regular updates from Richo on how the epic journey is going (regular meaning whenever Richo happens to stumble across a PC in the middle of the Nullabor).

 

SOREDATE 13
20/9/00

Well.....I have finally managed to extract small leather object from posterior and am placed in a seat that encompasses rather than assaults the aforementioned anatomical location. Kcck Kcck Kcck... Bilbish for...."YOU BLOODY RIPPER".

You are currently in touch with a bilby with a rather large smile on the dial...it feels great. To cross that bridge was...well, it was probably up there with me telling Cathy that she could flick the zippo on Friday night, instead of yours truly. Great girl...I just couldn't stand the thought of singeing the lovely long eyelashes, and the smell of burnt fur is not good, unless it's flame-thrower vs cat of course.

Sydney is pumping now that we are here...they've been given the go-ahead to enjoy themselves (no-one was game until Bet-Bet gave the word) and old Basil hasn't been shy in spreading himself thinly across a few of the better known watering holes in the second-best city in Australia, giving the most amount of women the greatest chance to spend the longest time in his company. It's quite tiring, but Basil is professional enough to cope with it. I'll take it back a tad though...

Cruising downhill for 35km is not everyone's idea of fun, but it does enable one to escape one's own pongy smell...a real advantage for Bet-Bet on Thursday. She has been fairly strong on the olfactory senses so needless to say, Basil needed to get way out in front early...known in sporting terms as the "Eddie the Eagle" approach. We zipped into Riverstone, an eastern suburb about 50km from the Coat-Hanger (Sydney Harbour Bridge) where we spent the night. The following day was quite exciting...right up there with the charades nights I've had on occasion with the Blairs in London. Bet-Bet was so nervous...it was like she had drunk 17 pots of herbal tea. Talk about a monopoly on the Thunderbox...I couldn't get her out...like trying to remove a blowfly from the meat-safe. Finally, she finished up, and our momentous last trek began. We took the motorway into Sydney, and stopped off on the way, when some P-Plate driver had the misfortune to slide past Basil without the polite amount of distance between his car and Basil's pannier, and then was silly enough to pull off the road further up. Suddenly, to his surprise,a 14 inch snout was inside the window and whiskas were playing tunes on his fillings. Naughty naughty silly boy....won't NOT give some Bilbies on bikes room next time.

Into the northern suburbs, and there she was, in all her splendour. Yep...a kebab shop. Not since the Eyres house had I scored a suvlaki to match this one, so I told Bet-Bet to tell the press I'd just hammer home a works with chilli sauce and I'd be right with them. "What do you mean...they had to go? Pat who, is carrying the torch? With Olivia WHO....?No...I won't come now....Spiros is just rolling it....oh, Bet-Bet, just tell them all to SOD OFF and leave the Bilby to munch the kebab in peace. Thankyou" Needless to say, there wasn't any press at the bridge when we arrived. That was ok though... Bet-Bet had a bad hair day and was not looking her best...probably not assisted much by the industrial hair-dryer I made her tow in in case of rain....Basil had to look his best! 

To get there was WILD!!!! Chris, Nic Crawf, plus Strattie, Australian Beach Volleyball Olympian, with Greg Noyes, representing the Northern Hemispheres were on the bridge to welcome the intrepid duo, and to split up the fight as Bet-Bet spat the dummy over the hair dryer. Yes...it was fairly cloudless, and yes, it was 22 degrees celcius, but you never know! 

Beers followed...and followed...and..... THANKYOU ALL...from the famm to Eyrsie, to everyone sledging/encouraging the duo...it has been great. Stay tuned for a few more yet, and of course, eyes peeled on the box for the bilby in the stand!

yours
Basil

 

Soredate 12
15/9/00

A reply from Bomba,the unnamed academic responsible for jargon to match only John Elliot, without the directness of 'Pigs Arse' quotation, was rapid in forthcoming. It read... "Further more In my experience I have found that 'they' deny it by going on a sexual rampage with anything that moves, just to
1. Show they are capable & active.
2. Make the male jealous as hell.

Time draws near. With the final destination approaching, we can expect a heightened display of these behaviors. But it had bet(ter) happen soon or the moment will be lost!! The tip is the sexual tension from our 2 protagonists will light the Olympic flame as they round the final bend of Stadium Australia.

Hold on Australia.

There is little liklihood of the aforementioned happening, especially in light of the occurrences that surrounded our night in Bathurst. After Brocky had stumbled home pretending he had to cook dinner for the brood, but in actual fact, was just hammered, we retired to the hotel. There was a end of season soccer club function that ran into the wee hours, and a much disgruntled Bet-Bet, upon listening to some members of the team bashing at a nearby room door, launched herself into the corridor and VERBALLY assaulted them.
It went...
"What do you think you are doing at 4am making all this racket..."
"Hey, look Steve, it's a bunny...ohhhhhhhhh...thump"
"I said..."
"Look rabbit, that wasn't called for and...ohhhhhhhhh...thump"
"And you...?"
"I'm just going to sleep Bunny...ohhhh.....thump"
"You bet you are...and DON'T call me a rabbit"

As most of you would know, Basil abhorrs violence, and could not bear to be associated with such heinous crimes. However, it did quieten down considerably after that and Bet-Bet was presented with the trophy for the best header of the club, pipping Roy Keane by 2 votes. Some business..... A big thankyou to all and sundry who have phoned, donated or just sent messages. From "Go long Basil" to the crap that Bomba sends, they are a real inspiration to us, and I take great pleasure in translating all the messages incorrectly to Bet-Bet. Hence, she wants to meet half of you behind the bus stop, and the other half behind the bike sheds. Also, the international support that we have received has been brilliant, with money from Texas, Belgium, Norway, England and France, among others. Thankyou to the Adelaide crowd for their hospitality...it was awesome to wander around a house in the nude again.... Keep an eye out, especially at the Beach Volleyball on the Saturday,16th,when there may be more than just a few Bilbies in the crowd when Sarah Straton takes to the court in the Green and Gold, with Annette, against the Yanks.

Should anyone want to buy a bike...it's in Sydney...you may need to change seats...it's somewhat moulded to my brand. The mobie is on for chats now....0407 985 692. Roll on Thursday!!!

Bas.

Soredate 11(apparently...I miscounted last time..thank-you Davo)
11/9/00

Yesss..and it's all uphill from here!!  Hills, hills, hills. After 6 weeks of flat, flat, flat, one would've thought that one would be happy to see a few slopes. Ummmmmm....NO!  Before I forget, the answer to the riddle, "What would I have given gladly had it been available", was of course, 'road room'. One intelligent answer greeted my question, which was "advice". Richard Lawrence John Xavier Hudson, of ABC Cairns, replied that perhaps the answer was IBS, or Irritable Bowel Syndrome. He wins the donation prize, which allows him and a friend to donate $20.00 straight into the Kanyana Account. Well done Richard!

Two Days On....Things here are going well. We are presently in Katoomba, and only require the wind at our coits for the final run downhill and over the coathanger. We plan to get to the Rocks at 1.00pm, Thursday 14th, as Juan Antonio, or "Jim" to his mates, couldn't get there earlier due to a dentist appointment. Bet-Bet has been acting strangely of late, and I have only just worked it out. At every town, beginning with 'B', Bet-Bet gets in a snog. She snaffled some pensioner in the bar at Balladonia, requesting to see his new caravan pop-top; in Balranald, I returned from the pub to see her gallivanting with a local around the swings...shades of  'Carry on Camping'...then in Bathurst she disappeared for a while, only to reappear later with her Max Factor smudged. Today, she asked if we could go to Sydney via Brisbane!

I could hardly keep an eye on her in Bathurst, as I'd met some bloke Peter Brooke, or something, and he challenged me to a race around the mountain racetrack...6.47 km of touring car tester. Naturally, the old testosterone leapt at the chance...There we were...Pete gunning his Commodore, Basil clicking his pedals in and out....Pete glancing at Basil through the fire-proof balaclava, Basil sporting his new SNANN beanie....Pete shutting the visor down on the full-face helmet, Basil munching a couple of Sherbies....Green light on....and they're off. I won't bore you with the details, but needless to say, Brooky, or was it Brocky, was buying the beers back at the Panthers Club that evening.

I did receive this message from an academic who shall nameless, and I thought it should be published so that those of you out there in 'seats that encompass your whole arse' land could comment.

Bomba wrote...The Basil/Bett-Bett relationship is not dissimilar to many of the great TV screen romances in most of the 1st series before they 'do it'. Eg. Moonlighting, Cheers, Spin City,. You know, 'The will they, wont they' syndrome. So where does this leave our furry friends? I suggest they are in the 'Just about' Phase. Its all there folks. Sexual tension, isolation and best variable of all, The end is near, which seems to accelerate these feelings. Like the Truman show, the world is watching with baited breath. I leave you two to it.

CRAP!
love Basil

Cough those that haven't...not long to go...
The Basil Bilby Fund
Kanyana Wildlife Park
Kalamatta Way
Gooseberry Hill
West Australia

Thankyou all.

Soredate Ten
5/9/00

Through Victoria I hooned...tailwind, timid magpies(seems they are all across Victoria) and only 2 days to cross. Seems fairly representative of the state proportionally. Brilliant through Mildura...lovely of Brendan to email me to request that I purchase some oranges for him. I replied that I had done so, although I was drying my hand washed bike shorts inside-out on them at the time, and despite the relative density of the peels, I would be loathe to consume the aforementioned fruit. Had he been in the campers kitchen where I had washed them, he would, I'm sure, have been inclined to agree.

Into NSW...and seemingly on the downhill leg, a statement supported by the timely arrival of Bet-Bet, tail between her legs, and hat in paw. Hmmmmm, well, forgive and forget is the way, so I headbutted her and after she got up off the ground, we shook hands and made-up. 

Bet-Bet, having only been in the tent for approximately 9 hours, worked herself into a frenzy at the arrival and constant conversation of approximately 100 pink and grey galahs, perched above our point of supposed slumber. It continued as such....
"Bloody hell...those birds are sooo noisy"
"Hmmmmmmmmm"
"Basil.. can't you hear them?"
"Hmmm" (I can certainly hear you Bet-Bet!)
"Ohhh, those bloody things"
"Well, if they are annoying you so much, do something about it"
"Alright, I will" and with that, Bet-Bet thankfully disappeared from the
tent, and a scrabbling noise was heard as she climbed stealthily heavenwards.
"Peace......"
"Ahhhhhhhhhh...THUMP"
"At last...."

Bilbies are not good climbers.
11 days until Sydney.
Basil of the sore bum.

Soredate Nine
4/9/00

Ohhhhhh, there's so much that has gone on of late, and it's been remiss of me not to have documented it earlier, but I'm distraught. Bet-Bet's run off with a BANDICOOT!! Unthinkable, unbelievable, unbilbyable. And not even a western barred....just the common bloody southern brown variety. What a rabbit! It's like a fox running off with a dingo, or a hyena with a lion. That's how upset i am...I keep mentioning carnivores. It's not really that she ran off with the bandicoot, or that she ran off at all, it's just, well,it's her bloody turn to carry the tent!  

Following a rather relaxing weekend in Adelaide with the overly generous Winnalls, and a rather successful wander around one of Adelaide's finest establishments (barring The Pink Bathtub) in full suit with the hat out on a saturday evening, i've now skipped SA, moved across Vic and am in the final throes...through cockroach country.

Of course, South Oz was amazing. The Riesling Trail from Clare to the Barossa was lovely, although I found cycling a bit difficult after giving that the big cohuna....before breakfast. Dry, crisp, fruity taste...I could've applied that to the wine or the muesli that I was co-indulging. I woke Stanley, of Leasingham fame, with a few well timed bashes at the door and we relived old times together. Nothing like the aged taste of those 4 litre casks...some of Australia's finest exports...to the student population of the world. From the Barossa...the Riverland beckoned. Sparse woodland, with a couple of wombats thrown in. One actually looked very similar to Richard Hudson. Strong and thick of limb, barrel of abdomen and hair impeccably groomed. Made me quite homesick.

Having conquered the Might Murray River...on the ferry at Swan Reach, I continued to Loxton, where Michael Murray Mervyn Helmut Eyres had some amazingly hospitable relations, the Edingtons; Bruce, Annabel and their son Eddie. I wonder if Eyrsie has the bike bugged, because no soooner had I whooped and yahooed my way down the world's second steepest hill to the caravan park from cental Loxton, than the phone rang with Michael INSISTING that i go and stay with his aunt...who HAPPENED to live back in central Loxton. As I hung up, I'm sure I could hear a chortle of mirth.

On On, as the hash smoking harriets say, and I did. From Loxton to Lake Cullulleraine, a place of tranquility and serenity...until those flaming Swamphen got the urge, chasing around buxom potential mates, squarking and carrying on like there was some sort of urgency to the occasion. Sounded like the noise at a game of backyard cricket when the rabbit comes to the crease. It was here when I witnessed what the Swamphen were on about! Eddie, of Loxton, had so graciously provided me with the dial number for Triple J, and it was during my rest 2 minutes, after the pre-breakfast 3 hour cycle, that Neil Diamond was played and, in the words of the passing Finnish Women's Beach Volleyball Squad, "Barzil vent orff". Arm pumping, tail twitching rhythym made pausing compulsory for the girls, and they were quick to pair off to try to ensnare the rampant Bilby. "Vott are you orn, Barzil?"  they asked, struggling to stay in the groove. "Small and black" I replied. "EPO, or is it HGH?. Perhaps just an E...or maybe vonn of ze new P's"

"No ladies...you try sitting on that seat for 6 weeks, and see what you do when Neil hits the airwaves." After 7 minutes of that, the girls were finished, and despite their attempts, I remained focused and disciplined, cycling onward as i watched their combie dust in the distance.
Bugger!

More on the Mildura experience, but must go and get a good spot at the RSL Balranald before Melb belt the Dons!
>cheerio
>Basil

Updated Itinerary.
29/8/00

Basil is soon to set off for the final limb of his trip, and to be joined by the fast recuperating Bet-Bet. Adelaide has been fantasic...thanks to the Winnalls.. suppliers of fine wine and old fashioned hospitality. The following rough guideline applies to the happy pair:

27/8 Nuriootpa-Swan Reach (65km)
28/8 Swan Reach-Loxton (95)
29/8 Loxton-Cullulleraine (~110)
30/8 Cullulleraine-Mildura (60)
31/8 Mildura-Robinvale(90)
1/9 Robinvale-Balranald (80)
2/9 DAY OFF...cmon MELBOURNE!!!!!
3/9 very sore and sorry bilby ride...Balranald-Hay (125)ohhhhhhhhh
4/9 Hay-Goolgowi (110)
5/9 Goolgowi-Weethalle(90)
6/9 Weethalle-Marsden(95)
7/9 Marsden-Euguwra (105)
8/9 Eugowra-Cudal(45)
9/9 Cudal-Orange(45)
10/9 Orange-Bathurst(38)
11/9 Bathurst-Wallerawang (51)
12/9 Wallerawang-Katoomba (55)
13/9 Katoomba-Penrith (~60)
14/9 SYDNEY.......YAHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Of course...these are open to change...especially the Saturday 2/9!  Any of you folks out there that know people in these areas that we could contact prior to arrival who would be advantageous to the cause would be appreciated...teachers for school visits, media, prospective donors etc.

Bilby's Log to come soon....stay tuned and keep the support coming in.. it's great to receive messages.

cheerio  Basil. 

 

Soredate eight
29/8/00

"Right-o.See-you later Basil". "sorry," I said. "Aren't you staying here?" "No way...this place is haunted," and the custodian of the Gladstone Gaol, comprising 127 cells, 4 blocks(A-D, including maximum security) and a suspected death row cell, left and walked out of the gaol and into his quaint little cottage with a woodfire and a doting partner. "Great!" I couldn't believe he left me here, alone.

"Backpackers, "the blokes in town said, as i dripped water onto their cork floor in the Iama office, "yeah...at the old gaol up the road mate, or over the road at the pub.. yeah, that's quite nice, at the pub...and cheap as chips too." "Old gaol..." I mused, "That could be fun. Meet some other backpackers, have a chat, maybe wander down for a beer..." Good one Basil...rabbit pie...sometimes you are so stupid!

Al least I had enough room....in fact, I could've removed all my clothes from my bags and put one item in each cell and would still have had a few rooms spare...like around 122! I shut my door, and went out to buy some supplies. I returned to find my room locked. "Thanks for locking my room mate when i went out (as there were a few browsers through the gaol but they left at 4.30) but i'm back now and can't get in. Do you have a different key to mine?" I said to Chris, at his house, having followed the map on the front door of the gaol to locate him.

"I didn't lock your room" "Oh..ummm... can you help me get in then?" "Strange"...he said...."it won't open." He kicked it in. "Oh well, no lock on your door now....sleep well" "How?" I mumbled, as i watched him head off back to his warm house.

Having read until the Bilby sleepy sand filed my eyes, and having cooked and cleaned and wrung out all my clothes, I knew I could put it off no longer. I needed to go toily. I needed to go out....outside the cell...into the corridor. clop...clop...clop....
Walking along A block.
clop...clop....clop
Here's the toilet.
Silence
clop...clop..clop..
Where was Bet-Bet now...unbelievably selfish of her to hurt herself and not be with me now...not that i need her or anything, it's just....it would have been nice...to share that vanilla slice that i bought....
clop..clop..clop...
clopclopclopclopclopclop
Made it!

I will sleep...I will sleep....

one mala,two mala..
it's only rain and wind.
three mala,four mala
oh God...i'm sorry I sinned
five little mala
what the hell was that?
six tiny mala
where's the cricket bat?
seven mala eight mala
was that a voice i heard?
nine mala ten mala
don't be so absurd.

yep...4.30 am...time to get up and get going.

Basil"I'm tough"Bilby

ps I wasn't really scared

 

soredate seven
25/8/00

South Australia has redeemed herself. Despite the Whyalla boguns, 2 inch road shoulders, old roads that suck the energy from each pedal and headwinds from hell, South Australia has been triumphantly represented by Port Germein Gorge, a most amazing landform dissected by a lovely road and two cars to the hour, which has softened my somewhat grumpy outlook on the cental province and assured a favourable >report, especially approaching the wine region.

That it poured rain for 4 1/2 hrs on the day the gorge was conquered was incidental. In fact, so much rain resulted in a fair degree of swerving to avoid backflipping naked farmers in what i would take to be celebratory gestures, and a sore-ish neck, which was alleviated somewhat by the odd wringing...not good for the whiskas mind, but helpful in reducing snout-germ, similar to a watery dagg.

Bet-Bet is soon to rejoin the fray. A couple of weeks rest and she feels strong enough to attack the wineries of the Clare and Barossa Valleys. I am actually of the suspicion that Bet-Bet took off to Adelaide to hit the post-winter sales, and that the knee was a cover for a brown cardigan buying spree. Needless to say, my VISA card has disappeared. Naughty Bet-Bet thinks Basil was born yesterday. HA! Not likely big ears!

I will just go back to SA and say it is alot cleaner than the west. The headwinds are a problem though. It seems that no matter which direction you travel, you cop them. I met two Pommie cyclists yesterday heading for Perth and they had headwinds on the same day that I was heading for Adelaide...and I had them. Perhaps we should just have ridden on the other side of the road.

Basil Bilby philosophy....to a motorist, all roads are flat until they are mountainous.

Basil Quiz...the correct and most inventive answer to this riddle will receive a prize...from Bet-Bet. What,if i had, would i give happily and instantly?

take care.  xx Basil

Soredate Six
18/8/00

"It's irritating...it's painful....."  "I know Bet-Bet", I said, gingerly easing my way into the seat. "No, not the cycling...the easter bunny...there he is". Sure enough, there he was, bounding along beside the Eyre Hwy swinging that stupid basket of his. "G'day Basil....any work yet?" he asked, then twittered noisily. He has the most annoying laugh. He knew i was hard up, even in my own country. "Hello Bucky" I answered nonchalantly. His nose twitched. He hated "Bucky". "What are you doing out this way?" "Oh, we're actually playing footy...against your lot. I am the captain of the ferals you know..." he paused for effect, and Bet-Bet sneezed in the same instance. I could've kissed her. "One of your lot, Chuditch, was passing through and had a score to settle with cat, so they set it up. No show without EB though" he added. I nearly retched.

"Right...so who's playing?" "Well, we have goat, camel in the ruck, fox, buffalo, a couple of cats (always too many of them about, i thought) ME, and a few road-trains to make up numbers". "What about for us?" "chuditch, wombat (good...solid as a rock), phascogales.. red and brush tailed, mala (good around the packs), emu (i hoped bitter...she was better than export) some roo known as wayne-boy (i suppressed a yahoo.. wayne- boy was the best footballer on the plain if his shoulder held out), bettong (electric if she could stay awake), and you two". He looked smug, but i knew we were in with a chance. "Righto...we'll play", I said, looking at the bristling Bet-Bet. She loved a scrap. "It's on". 

Dingo bounced the ball and the game was away. Some bobtail Bruce, whose voice went all gravelly, especially when he spoke of Wayne-boy, was in the commentary box and calling the shots. It was tight and hard.. They had numbers at the ball, but we were in it through sheer desperation. Wayne-boy was brilliant, Bet-Bet ferocious at the ball and Mala an inspiration. I'll leave you with the last 10minutes. "Ball up, camel against mala. Mala up high, tap straight down to phascogale. She knocks it on to the Bilby, Basil, who launches into the kick and sends it high towards the full forward. Big pack of players under it and...OHHHHHOHHHH, Bet-Bet has taken a huge hang over the top of fox. What a grab, but it looks like she's done a knee, and brushtail pops it through for the natives first of the quarter. Bet-Bet is being stretchered off...not good news for the natives. 

Quokka comes on to replace her, but she could be out for anything from a week to the season. Nothing in it here folks...3 points in favour of the natives. Another bounce... malqa again, with a height disadvantage of 2 metres, wins the tap, down to Basil, pack forming, but the ball comes out, wombat with strength...clever, VERY CLEVER, keeps shoveling the ball forward, emu comes in to lend a wing but there's too much congestion and we'll have a bounce. 2 minutes left....camel with the knock to cat, cat with style and grace, by hand to fox, fox putting it into the path of goat, goat to camel backing up again, Easter Bunny calling for it. They are drawing the player and creating a loose feral. This looks dangerous for the natives. Back to cat, silky skills to fox, now over the top to the Easter OHHHHHHHHHHH, GOODNIGHT EASTER BUNNY. GOODNIGHT EASTER BUNNY. THE EASTER BUNNY HAS BEEN COMPLETED FLATTENED BY BASIL BILBY. HE IS OUT! HE IS OUT FOLKS! TA-TA THE GOOSE.

And there it is...there goes the siren, with the ferals going down by 3 points, and they are a dejected lot, carrying off their captain, the Easter Bunny. 

And there it was...with a bit of help, the natives held on for victory on their home turf, but at a cost. Bet Bet is at a physio in Adelaide, and i am peddling to meet her there. Keep the bucks coming in. Thanks people.

yours
Basil

 

Bilby's Log
14/8/00
Soredate 4

I could see the headlines appearing out of the dust the bus had left behind, as it passed within a Numbat's whisker of us. This freewheeling bus insolently tried to pass the Bilby at the same time as a Road Train converged from the East!! Imagine the article "Bilby Goes Berserk At Bus Driver!!!"

The content of the article materialised:

"Three foreign backpackers and a shearer had to forcibly restrain a savage Bilby at the Cocklebiddy Roadhouse recently when he maliciously attacked the driver of their coach". The driver Trevor was treated for shock, bruising and severe lacerations. Apparently the frenzied attack had resulted from the bus driver's alleged careless driving. Trevor, who declined to be named, said 'I'd just finished the last of my sausage roll and had just wiped my hands on the brown King-Gees when a grey puff of fur materialised through the windscreen of my bus. I heard a menacing, 'don't treat me as a feral gravel guts', before my bus was head butted by an extremely long snout. At the next roadhouse, I was pinned to the chock milk fridge and pummeled mercilessly until Helmet, Hans, Heidi and Bert lured the Bilby away with some Pink Lady chocolates, apparently the makers of Easter Bilbies. The Bilby, Basil, from the Kimberly region of WA was still enraged some time later, 'luckily I didn't sink my macropodded feet into his tackle. ''Steady Basil', I thought as I returned to the road in time to Bilby hop another vagrant Coke can. 'That won't do the cause any good at all.'

Well, apart from the odd brush with traffic and a buffeting Northerly across 150km of straight stretch, which has made Basil a good stand in for any of the wallaby front row, neck-wise, things have been cruising. I zipped past a sign post yesterday with fruit at the base. I did a cross-over back track Bilby hop and returned to find a note addressed to Bet-Bet and I, offering us some fruit that otherwise would be surrendered at the border. I told Bet-Bet that they left us some sugar coated cockroaches. Imagine trying to ride straight-snouted as your companion shoves a particularly spiny piece of
cockroach shell in their gob and proclaims, 'it's weely nott vat schwit.'

 

DATE : 7 AUGUST 2000
SOREDATE No 3

Basil has a whinge?

“Nullarbor Plain” they said!. ”Flat” they said!. MY RED CHAFFED PARTS IT’S FLAT!. Coming out of Norseman Gully, Bet-Bet (the German backpacker who was mad enough to join Basil on his trip!) and I set ourselves for a good run. Two days, and we would be in Balladonia.  Mount Balladonia more like it!. It seemed like each hill was longer and steeper going east, and I soon expected to be able to see the McDonald’s sign hanging off the top of the Opera House. Bet-Bet let me know about it too. ”Bumpy” she said!!. “This place has more curves than Liz Taylor!”. I kept quiet. I don’t watch cooking shows. We got out of Norseman and had completed 75km when disaster struck. Bet-Bet copped a nail!. No! – not in her tyre but in her hand. Well, the ensuing theatrics drove me to seek refuge at Fraser Range. Amidst torrential rain and Bet-Bets more than fiery verse, we scored a bed for the night amongst a shearing gang from Esperance.

We got the last two beds in the quarters. Bet-Bet and I rushed for 30 minute showers each before the shearers got to the bathrooms. I later saw some of them run out cursing and looking vaguely unwashed!…and returning with pieces of wood!. Maybe there was a mouse in there.

Uphill for ever it seemed we then continued to Mt Balladonia where 13 roadsigns were visible from 500 m. When you have gingerly nursed your toosh for the last 193km your hardly likely to miss it. Onward we pedalled – “follow the snout” as I would like to shout!!. Bet-Bet was in a bit of a mood, as she had disappeared the night before in the Balladonia Bar and hadn’t been sighted until closing time . I had my suspicions….? “another good looking Bilby” but alas, I kept them to myself!.  Finally she started up. ”How far to the next town?”, ”How fast are we going?”, "What time is it?” ”Has the rash cleared up?” ”When do we next stop?”. It was then that I seized the chance with “Around the next bend Bet-Bet!!!!”. It went very quiet!.

It went quiet for 146.6 km !!!!!!!!

Basil

 

1/8/00
Soredate 2

The Bilby has Landed!  The Bilby has a pong on, but nevertheless, the little furry wind buffeted bastard has managed to get his macropodded foot in the Norseman door and has cracked a coldie on his afternoon off.  Here's to the donors!  It feels great to be able to put one's tail up, and Bet-Bet is off doing all those female Bilby chores...washing, preparing bar snacks, cleaning Basil's bike chain....the list is endless, and although I do feel a tad guilty on the odd occasion, it passes quickly.

The road from Hyden to Norseman was sensational...about as restricted to 4 wheel drives as a bilby is to roadhouse pies.  One large puddle that required the limbs up as we aquaplaned across it, hollering loudly as bilbies are known to do in times of great excitement, but apart from that, the snout was down and the km's crept up along a stretch of 300km that could only be described as 'tame'. The support Magna, hung as low as the great J.H., due to the attached 'fox bar', had no difficulty in making the distance. German car....ya...!

Despite Bet-Bet, who was given the relatively simple task of organising the winds, failing miserably in the first few days as we battled cold NE mongrellish gusts, we stuck it out and at the threat of being relegated to "antfree campsites", she came through with the goods yesterday and we copped a 15 knot tail lifter...thankyou mein snuggyputz!. Bas, on the other hand, had the clouds, rain and sun to sort, and despite the large workload, came up trumps with a perfect week. Even managed a strato cummulus formation of a cat being ironed by one of those 'corbie presses' they advertise on the tube in London. Take that Feathergrinder!

Next stop...Balladonia in two days, the interim in a piece of saltbush 100km from here. Bet-Bet better have that hotwater bottle ready or there'll be a scrap. Just quickly...thanks to the following:
those not stingy that donated..the cause is very important. please send cheques to Basil Bilby Fund, Kanyana, Kalamatta Wy, Gooseberry Hill.  We had an amount equal to a big night out in Bali, and that was almost all from overseas!
Vinny, Bas's old boy who drove the support vehicle stage 1 and Del, who did stage two and leaves tomorrow...both brilliant.
Friendly and Nic,for music tapes, bike, panniers and coffee machine
Emma and Youngy for their tent/rollmat etc for the impending S.African

Basil signing out...spread the word!

26/7/00
SOREDATE 1
Day 2

Despite the compromised sexuality with the full length lycra grey two piece, as exhibited so tastefully on page 38 of today's West, Basil has struggled at times not due to streamlining, but in fact to a distinct lack of fur. A screaming NE headwind buffeted Basil and Bet-Bet, carving through them like a chuditch in the chookpen. Another few days like that and my neck will challenge that of Phil Kearns!  Not only that...it's a bloody cold breeze.  But wait...I'm jumping the instrument of wonder used to decimate those vile lounge dwelling feline beasts (gun, for those of you who prefer the 4 x 2).

Tuesday met with bright skies and a gaggle of relatives/Kanyana volunteers/friends/pressmen to wave Basil and Bet-Bet onward. As we turned hillwards, a powerwalker blurted, "Bilbies". One nil, I thought. This was soon evened by a donkey noise imitation from one of immense intelligence, and a bogun remarking to a friend, "Shit mate...check out the rats". Yep...always thought Winnie Blues affected ones neuron capacity.  

Bet-Bet...an enthusiastic Bavarian Backpacker who was signed into the deal with the promise of a 3 day coastal jaunt complete with bucket, shovel and free choc-wedges.  When asked why 28 parrots were named as such, the reply centred around their rib number. Basil had a chortle for a few km's. She was overheard in the Brookton store informing a local aboriginal about the lack of ribs in German birdlife. Stay tuned for Bet-Bet daily wind-ups. 

Anyway...it's past a Bilby's bedtime. The leaves are making a hell of a racket.  It's windy, the canvas is beholed, and Bet-Bet just fluffed in her slumber. Good one Bet-Bet...I'm taking point tomorrow.
Good night all.
love Basilxx