The Girl with the tattooed Breast

said:"You're an American, aint'cha?"  As I leaned over to read the scroll written on her heart, I said: "No, but you are getting closer."  Well, I never did fully read the pithy musings stencilled into her,  and finally had to trade her "I am from W.A." for a "Well, I am from B.C."  The net result seemed to be that she accepted that B.C. was somewhere north of Seattle, and I settled for a somewhat one-sided conversation over cold milk-coffee (or is it coffee-milk?) and a meat pie.  The poor girl was stuck out in upper Queensland, in a remote roadhouse, and this smart ass bikie was probably her only customer for the morning.

I have somehow drifted easterly from my last port of call, in the Northern Territories.   There have been some good rides and some interesting sights.  There was one bummer of a night, when the Ant people invaded with a vengeance.  I finally found some respite from the crawly critters in the floor of the amenities shack, which to North Americans is the crapper.  These ants are very sly and devious, and so damned small that without my glasses, I cannot see them. They organized themselves in cohorts of 10 million or more, and once they decide to track through a tent, sleeping bag, or tank bag, there is no stopping the little buggers.  After my fitful non-sleep in the shower shack of the campground, I found a camping supply with a howitzer -sized can of "Crawly Critters Killer."  The Australians don't full around when they want to kill something, and there are not any worries about the amount of DEET or life-threatening carcinogens in the product.  I sprayed the tent base, inside and out, and sure enough, the fumes knocked me out, and the little buggers with the gas masks had a field day munching on my lilly-white ass.  At least I slept through the attack.

I am sitting in a lovely air-conditioned library in Charters Towers, Queensland. Roobie is getting an oil change, and I am avoiding the heat of the midday here.  We are about 150 km. from the coast, and while last night was a bit cooler, I can still feel the heat.

Today is my baby girls' birthday.  If I am reading Facebook correctly, she is off to Philadelphia on some sort of journalistic junket. I am very proud of her, and I think about all of me family a lot as I ride.  It seems to me I was riding in South America on one of her former birthdays, a years or so ago.  I guess that makes up for the years when she was gallivanting across Europe and As1a with her mother.  I hope that you have a great time, wherever you are, daughter of mine.

I am having a terrible time finding good Internet services at the same time as I am prepared with uploaded pictures.  I am going to take advantage of this library service, and bring up some photos, although they are out of sequence with the ride, and the reality being that in a few days, I will not be able to tell you where I have been anyways.

In honour of my daughters' birthday, I think I will lead off with this one:

The wedge-tailed eagles were munching on this road kill, so I figured it was safe to stop and say hello.  Most of the road-killed snakes are too mangled to get a good pic, and I am not about to do a walkabout for a picture of the real thing.  My daughter loves snakes, and I thought I would encourage her with these shots.

North of Alice Springs, the "Devils Marbles" stand prominently out in the flat terrain.  The site is sacred to the local Aborigines, and they tell stories of holding secret ceremonies among the rocks and caves.  They believe that special people live in the caves below the Marbles, and that sometimes they will abduct folks and take them underground.  I looked, and I looked, but nobody even winked at me. There was a nice camp spot nearby, but as you can imagine, it was extremely hot.  As it was 47 yesterday in Alice, I was wanting to get into some cooler environs before I cooked...

This aboriginal art is a depiction of the site, complete with the flowers...

 This was a sunset shot, complete with the camera on the wrong setting....

 I think I have passed over this line before....

I stopped at a roadhouse, Wycliffe Well, on my way north.  The walls of the cafe were covered with newspaper articles on the number of UFO sightings which have occurred nearby.  Interestingly, a joint Australian/USA  military venture is happening down the way, and over a few hills....

The state has a clear understanding of the need for motorists to stop and rest on the road journeys which typically can be 1000 km or more.  There are pulloffs with shaded tables, and sometimes water, while not potable, certainly wets the shirt and keeps one cool for a few minutes.  Some wag had written on the top of one of the tables, which I had taken top use as a sleeping platform.  Better warned than bitten, I guess....

I finally pulled in to a campsite without spiders, and lots of interesting old equipment.  I climbed to the highest hill in the surrounding area, and took some evening pics of the setting sun, as well as old mining equipment.

Looking east, towards Queensland.  Flat, eh?

The geology of the outback is fascinating.  I can see why the attraction of gold, copper, and other minerals created such a stir in this part of the world.

 I have put out the word that Roobie is up for sale in awhile, as I head towards Sydney.  Some pics where she is not overburdened with tent gear and the like....

 These goulahs were waiting until I filled the plastic bucked with water.  It is amazing to me to see the birds in the middle of what appears to be nowhere...

Trying to get that sunset shot....

I have no idea why this roo has horns...

I had planned on an early start the next morning.  About 30 km. out from my camp, this cattle hauler had lost his last trailer on a curve.  The trailer went to the outside corner, and the other two trailers stayed upright.  According to bystanders, "this happens all the time.". I don't think I will be buying any burgers at McDonald's in the future.

After a few hours, the road was cleared.  Yes, some cows were killed in the making of this sequence...

I had thought that I was pretty well easterly of the track which Burke and Wills had followed in their run to the north.  As I travelled towards Queensland, in a northeasterly direction, I began to see more hints of their travels.

I am officially a "grey nomad", and as I sat and talked with some others of the same ilk one evening, I mentioned that my surname was Wills.  A lady spoke up, saying that her family name was Wills.  I said that my grandfather came from Devon, England.  Being a good Grade Four teacher, she informed me that lots and lots of Wills' came from Devon.  Her family, had in fact, landed in Australia in 1799.  She was kind enough to give me the name of her brother, who has reams of material on the "real" Wills's, if I should choose to visit him.  Perhaps when I stop no madding, I will gain some research skills and venture into the world of genealogy.