Wudinna (A) to Ceduna (B)
I left Wudinna on a cold and windless morn and headed down the endless Eyre Highway in the direction of Minnipa, fifty kilometres distant. It was a slow start to what would turn out to be a very long day. I passed a spot called Pygery, and was left wondering why it occupied a spot on our maps and warranted a roadsign, because there was nothing there.
From Minnipa it was thirty-six kilometres to Poochera, a small town, apparently named after a nearby hill. Which isn’t really helpful, is it? I mean, what is the origin of the hill’s name? Who named the hill? What does the word mean?
From Poochera, it is fifteen kilometres to Wirrulla, which boasts a population of 60. Imagine a town with a population of 60. If they decided to close down the town they could all leave on the same bus.
With each kilometre I covered the temperature was increasing. For the one hundred plus kilometres from Wirrulla to Ceduna there was a warm headwind, which was fairly stifling, but wasn’t strong enough to be a serious impediment. This last stretch of road brought us to the end of the trip across the Eyre Peninsular and back to the coast, last seen when we left Port Augusta.
My legs were seriously weary by the time we reached Ceduna, although I seemed to have grown accustomed to the saddle and even after eight hours of riding it was tolerably comfortable. No, comfortable is too strong a word. Bearable may be better. Make that bearable.
Ceduna is a fairly large settlement, by comparison with the towns we had passed through recently, home to some 4000 people that lies on the South Pacific coast, on the shores of Murat Bay. It is a popular holiday resort with several well-patronised caravan parks. It is also the self-declared home of the King George Whiting, a pretty good eating fish if you can deal with the bones, so we duly had this plus chips for supper.