A Remarkable Ending

The final two days were upon us so quickly. Where had the time gone? It dawned on us that we really didn't want this journey to end. Usually after a significant time away from home you find yourself looking forward to at least the comfort of your own bed - but not this time. Every metre we rode brought us closer to the finality of ending our journey. It was a strangely reflective couple of days. If there were any way we could have just kept on riding south past our car we would have.

Day Nine
Warren Gorge - Quorn

Due to our massive efforts the day before it felt like a reasonably short ride to the little town of Quorn.  To the relief of our weary legs we arrived by lunchtime and had the afternoon to relax. We were pleasantly surprised by the quaint little caravan park with it's eco friendly philosophy. We received 'an  eco-discount' on camping fees because of our low carbon footprint as well as some friendly advice about the following day's ride - apparently the range that we were to climb over was quite the adventure with many people having to walk their bikes up and over the other side. The thought of a difficult last day on the bikes added to our growing reluctance to finish the journey.

Breakfast Time at Warren Gorge

Day Ten
Quorn - Mt Remarkable

We decided against all advice to stick with the Mawson Trail today. It was our last day and even if we did have to haul our bikes up and over Richman Gap we were going to do it! As it turned out the 'big climb' ended up being one of those urban myths and was really no worse than what we had ridden on previous days. Quite the anti-climax! The down hill run on the other side was a nice reward that helped tick of some easy miles for our final push to the end.

Our final destination lay at the foot of Mount Remarkable, so with this mountain coming into view throughout the day it really did make for a remarkable ending!

And there it was. We had done it. All of a sudden it was over. The experience nothing more than a memory.

On the drive home, somewhere in Mallee Country, quite literally hundreds of kilometres from anywhere, we passed an old man. The same old man whom we had passed 15 days earlier. He was still walking, just off the side of the road, in the same direction, only perhaps now three hundred kilometres further east. He carried with him an assortment of bags, which seemed to hang off him in all manner of uncomfortable ways. Only a couple of weeks earlier we had automatically assumed that he was down on his luck and forced into this arduous journey. Now, as we headed home, we both had the distinct feeling that this journey of his was a choice and more importantly one that he most likely enjoyed. We were in some ways envious. It occurred to us how much our perception of the so called 'good life' had changed as a result of our own journey.

The Drive Home :(

A Few Statistics

Kilometres travelled:  393
Max speed (km/hr):  47
Flat tyres: 2
Nappy changes:  47
Weetbix Zephyr consumed:  20
Snakes seen:  0
Rain: 7mm
Number of times we got out the first aid kit: 1
Showers per person: 3
Pairs of socks per person: 1
Baby teeth cut through: 4