We’re up at Taylors Arm at the Pub with no Beer, where the world really could have ended in a puff of cyber smoke all those years ago because I don’t think that anybody round here would either have noticed and certainly wouldn’t care, and the place wouldn’t have changed much if it had.
It’s an excellent place; a rural hostelry right with a few scattered houses, out in the middle of nowhere at the end of a rough dirt track through the bush, or a long sealed trek through not very much from the other direction, and made famous by country singer Slim Dusty, who sang the song about it. However, the song - ‘ The Pub with No beer ‘ - was actually penned by his best mate, Gordon Parsons.
We left Mungay Creek (Nadine’s parents place) yesterday afternoon to come up here. To our relief and a bit of surprise, the bikes rode very well after yesterday’s farkling. Its always a leap of faith to ride them the first time after working on them, because although we test ride to check stuff, its not like riding them for real and loaded.
And because the dirt road to Taylors Arm was a 4 x4 track rather than just unsealed but graded gravel, we so needed the bikes to work properly.
But it was OK and we had no issues. The track was quite steep in places and hardbaked as well as criss crossed by now dry water eroded channels, some of which made fairly substantial rutted traps for our skinny tyres.
Descending is always worse on rough ground anyway, especially when the surface is loose as it was on this track, because the bike slides with its weight as well as speed. Whereas its easy enough to control sliding in a straight line, these ruts required much weaving about at slow speed, which which luggage, even on tiddlely little postie bikes, needed a bit of concentration.
And that’s when I realised that I should have tightened my my back brake more than I had, as it was very loose and not very cooperative. Nadine’s was a bit on the dodgy side too, and Gordon’s clutch continued to slip, but we all made it, rubber side up, to Taylors Arm.
The main reason for coming here, apart from ticking the pub of the ‘must see’ list, was the New year’s eve party. What could be better than seeing the old year out and the new year in at a country pub with locals, well away from authority and regulation, and a live band playing a mixture of rock and country? And staying onsite for next to nothing? A good choice and a good evening.
It is weird though to think of London as still being in last year though, albeit for only a little while longer. Whilst there are obviously many time zones around the world, all working to their own agenda, London is a bit special, sitting on the zero meridian as it does and being the spot where world time is measured from. Its not really 2014 until the clock hands hit 12 midnight there and Big Ben boings its boings.
So this morning, having all slept very well, none of us are hungover and we’re just loafing around like you’re supposed to on public holidays. We’ve nothing particular to do other than wander down to a nearby swimming hole a bit later when the sun gets really hot. I even made the other two breakfast in bed, which was just a nice thing to do but should in no way be interpreted as any form of resolution.
Nope, it was just a one off because I’m nice, even if it was only a sandwich. So after eating, both of them stayed put and are now reading whilst I write and potter around.
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