A languid breakfast with many cups of coffee and lots of chatter before loading up the bike once more.

Left Drumlion mid-morning to take the old mail road (known as the Cullardar Road from this end but as the Beryl Road (another old family property now in other hands) at the other – go figure).

I managed to get about 400 metres to the far side of the house grid before getting caught in a wheel rut and falling off for the first time today. No-one at the house saw that one.

Sarah said later that she had felt so sorry for me as my tracks further out were wandering all over the road as I hunted for the smoother parts.

A bit over thirteen kilometres further on I left the current road (relatively well packed and graded) for the mail road which is only seldom used by the mail truck and occasional shearers and station workers.

The rest of the day consisted of grinding slowly in low gear on fluffy black soil that had a slight crust that the bike broke through to let you sink into the dust underneath.

This alternated with short stretches of hard, dried blacksoil mud which had been pock-marked by the hooves of the cattle using it as, believe it or not, a road! Sometimes this was so rough it was easier to walk the bike for a bit.

Finally called it quits after about 90 km near the Bengal microwave transmitter tower. Unfortunately I camped under one of the guy wires which sang in the wind all night.