Every Dark Cloud

Today turns out to be the lowest point of the trip so far. The campsite is right on the outskirts of Penola. It's also near a major trucking route so all night long I'm woken by the teeth rattling sounds of air brakes. In the morning some cretin in the campsite, seemingly metres from my tent, decides to rev the last few horsepower out of his car engine until all the neighborhood dogs start howling in protest. And to top it all off, it's raining again.

Faaark.

It rained all night and continues to rain all morning. There is nothing I own that is not soaked and muddy. Dave looks like he's about to pack it all in and I'm starting to feel that way as well. The local forecast predicts 3 more days of this shitty weather. Dave and I make an executive decision to get out of this hell hole.

We pack the gear with mud included and start riding north through the drizzle. There's a bitterly cold crosswind that blows strong enough to occasionally throw the bike out of balance. We're also fighting on the roads with tourists returning to Adelaide after the long weekend. They're in climate controlled luxury trucks and they seem to be oblivious to what's going on around them. I curse loudly into my helmet.

By the time we arrive at Keith (the town) the drizzle has stopped and a silver lining has appeared. Literally. In the distance we see clear skies. Soon we're back in gorgeous sunlight. My mood is massively improved.

We stop for fuel in Tailem Bend and are quickly pounced upon by a pack of motorcyclists. They ask all sorts of questions about the bikes, the gear and the trip. One guy is particularly impressed by the bashplate on my bike. I have to admit it is a sexy bashplate. They all express quiet awe when they learn Dave got permission from "the wife" to go on a biking holiday for three months. They want to know the secret but Dave isn't letting on.

The remainder of today is a brilliant ride through Barossa Valley and the surrounding regions. The roads are dry and winding and fast with utterly spectacular views. It is exactly the sort of riding I wanted from this trip. The only negatives are the encroaching darkness and the bitter cold. I can see myself coming back here in the summer.

We arrive at Clare (the town) in the Clare Valley just slightly after dark. Neither of us feels up to another miserable morning so we book a motel room and dry the gear in front of the heater.