In the northern part of Victoria I saw massive road signs with artwork of a grotesque looking fly. Rather than taking in the message, my thoughts were focused on how likely it was the graphic artist was under the age of 10, or a relative of a SOCOG official. After seeing a couple at high speed I thought I should probably slow down for the next one and read it. 

Oops, I was a criminal! I had an illegal substance in my tank bag, 4 granny smiths taken from the fruit bowl on my way out the door that morning. I had no choice; they had to be eaten. I got through 2 before it got the better of me and I elected to discard the others in the long grass. It was only after getting back on the bike that I remembered I was in snake country. That sent a chill up my spine before realising any death adder would prefer a juicy green apple to me - you think?

Stopped for more gas at Robinvale before crossing the Murray into NSW. At this stage it was early afternoon, about 20deg and very pleasant. The local Emu's must have thought so too, a flock of them were out for a roadside stroll. Fortunately they didn't wander into my path. As luck would have it, slowing down for the Emu's coincided with a NSW Police car coming over the brow of a hill from the other direction. I just got a little shake of the finger for 130kph; the pre-Emu alternative of 230kph didn't bear thinking about. 

Back into Victoria at Mildura, a pretty little town that seemed quite bustling given its remoteness. I joined the Sturt Highway, which in that particular section was straight and boring. I was a little taken aback to be stopped at the border into S.A. and grilled as to wether I was carrying any FRUIT, close call. There was a Roadhouse just inside the border so I refuelled (of course) and re-energised myself with an iced coffee. 

Tiring of the Sturt and in search of some curves I turned off the main highway 20k's out of Renmark and headed down a very peaceful back road, to a small town called Morgan. It was on that road that I encountered a swarm of grasshoppers or locusts. Not one or two, not one or two hundred, not even one or two thousand. There were MILLIONS of them effectively forming a solid wall.

I prefer not to wipe my visor on the move, fearful of scratching it, but clarity was at risk, as it was rapidly becoming impossible to see through the concoction of squashed carcasses and translucent slime. I stopped to use one of the handily placed moist towelettes some kind sole had thoughtfully placed in my tank bag. That was great for about 30 seconds before thwack, another huge bug spread itself across my visor. Seeing that this was not going to stop any time soon I took to using my gloved hand to clear it. 

The insects thinned out just before Morgan where it was time for more fuel. My Jacket and kevlar lined Draggin' Jeans were absolutely covered in squashed creepy-crawlies. I apologised profusely for the nauseating appearance but rather than putting me at ease, the girl serving made me feel even worse by informing me they made me stink as well!

I darted out to the windscreen cleaning bucket and used the squeegee to scrape off the worst of the collection. Back in to request an espresso, in the belief that it may help me stay awake but the look I received immediately told me that this wasn't on offer. Pepsi Max would have to do. 

From there it was on to other small towns like Edunda, and Saddleworth, then up to Clare, Gladstone and Wilmington before heading through Horrocks Pass, one of the best Motorcycling roads in Australia. Regrettably, arrival here coincided with darkness which coupled with my first kangaroo sighting took away some of the pleasure. However I got enough of a feel for the place to decide I was not going back to Melbourne until I had done the pass in the light of day.

It wasn't long before the radiant lights of Port Augusta were before me and after covering 1136km I was ready for bed. A Cabin in the Big 4 Holiday Park was quite a draw. I was concerned that my jacket, pants, helmet and boots thickly crusted with dead insects would result in me being turned away but my money was as good as anyone's. Electricity consumption peaked in the camp that night, as I attempted to warm myself up. The hot shower was bliss and although I started to feel some stiffness in my neck, hands and ankles I was in pretty good condition for the distance covered in a crouched position on a Superbike designed for quick blasts at high speed on a race track, not long distance touring.

Tuesday morning and the big Red Rock was calling me......continued overleaf