roadhouse blues

I have been keeping my eyes on the road and hands up-on the wheel these last few days, having driven from Rocky to Longreach and back with a last minute detour to Gladstone and back this arvo.

Bad driving conditions for much of it, the Bruce highway between Rocky and Gladstone is very cut up and potholed as the B-doubles still thunder up and down. But they're tiddlers compared to B-triples, which the sign on the back of each warns is 50 metres long. Water over the road in a few places and lots, I mean lots, of water alongside particularly around Rocky.

Having been out of, or in patchy, NextG reception for much of this the blogging had to dry up.

But some quick reflections: listening to part of PM Rudd's apology to the stolen generation while traversing the wide, wide plains coming out of Longreach was kind of special. It's a big, wide land we live in and those distant horizons induce a warm, somehow familiar feeling even in a whitey. For the original inhabitants, how could we ever understand how they feel?

The Stockman's Hall of Fame is actually better than I expected. Even if its lack of interactivity renders it unsuitable for today's attention and patience deprived youngsters.

The Chateau VVB indicator of civilisation, a decent espresso, can be found in more places than it useter. I particularly recommend the Merino Bakery in Longreach. A long way to go for a coffee, I grant you, but should you happen to find yourself there...

Camrys are remarkably comfy for long hauls, even the decaying VVB neck was still OK after 5 hours' non-stop driving today. On the other hand, you need all the wide open plains you can find to get around a B-triple in a car with all the acceleration of a tree.

Radio National is tediously self-important.

On the other hand, you can pick it up in more places than any other station.

And now for some long-awaited sleep.

This, folks, has been post number 501.

Whoda thunk it?