Adelaide to Sydney to Adelaide - the hard way

Just before Easter 1972 one of my flatmates (known as Moses) wanted to drive to Sydney to fly to PNG for a holiday.  I'd never been to Sydney so offered to share the driving and petrol money.  As a friend was playing tennis in Jamestown over Easter I thought I would come back that way, checking out Broken Hill on the way.

Moses' car was a Datsun Fairlady, with a 2 litre motor so it was fairly swift.  We left Adelaide about 6am and Moses drove to Renmark where I took over.  I'd point out that at this time Australia had prima facie speed limits so you could challenge speeding fines on the grounds that your speed was OK in the circumstances.  (Aside: Bob Jane tested his race car on the road near Broken Hill and got timed, by an unhappy Plod, at 160 mph.  In court he described the safety precautions they had taken and tabled his record as a a driver at Bathurst.  The magistrate let him off - and was rumoured to then ask for an autograph!)

It took a few miles (this was before metrication) to get the feel of the car, but by the time we got to the Victorian border I was comfortable with ton up.  I noticed a shabby old caravan beside the road and when I am about 30 m therefrom a guy leaps out in front of me!   He realises that he has misjudged my speed and leaps back.  We reversed back a tad to have a chat about fruit fly: this is the only time - in at least 100 crossings - I have ever known Vic Agriculture to have a checkpoint!  On on!

There was a lot of 2 lane between joining the Hume and Sydney and the traffic got really heavy once the Federal Highway joined in.  Everyone was leaving Canberra for Easter.  We fought our way through to the front of the queue and stopped at about Liverpool for fuel. Looking back we could see a solid line of lights coming down the road.  On, on to Double Bay about 2000 hrs.

After Good Friday was spend touring Sydney the people we were staying with dropped me off on Paramatta Road where the story really begins.

My first lift was a young guy in a hotted up FJ Holden on his way to the Easter race meeting at Mt Panorama.  He'd been up there earlier in the week, camping on the Mountain and his description of that made me keen to pass on by.  I had a beer in the main drag of Bathurst (point 1) and got another lift to Dubbo (2 - I think from a nice family).  The next lift was unremarkable and got me to Trangie (3) where I had another beer and a pie for tea.

By now it is getting towards dark and a guy picks me up heading for  Nyngan.  Darkness fell soon after.  We chatted away and he asked if I'd  like a beer - he had a small esky with some cans on the back seat.  I grabbed one each and observed the greatest change in behaviour ever.  I always mentally liken this to Dr Jekyll quaffing the potion!  He had one mouthful of beer and stopped talking about general stuff and got into a rant about his marital problems and sped up.  We got into the outskirts of Nyngan (4) and he accelerated right up the tail of a ute.  When it turned into a house drive he leant on his horn and announced "Thet's the wife's fancy man.".  We pulled into  a spot in front of the chemists and an entity - looked very like the Tassie Devil from Looney Tunes - scorched out  and screeched "Who's that?". He said it was a hitchhiker and he was taking me out to the Cobar road.  As we drove off he explained "Thet ... was my overloving wife".

He went about 5 km out of town to a Y junction and said to take the left fork.  He headed back to conjugal bliss (?).  The lights of Nyngan were just visible in the distance and as a car came along it lit the sign for the intersection: left fork Cobar, Wilcannia, Broken Hill (280 miles); right fork Bourke (100 miles).  I think this counted as remote.  

After about 20 minutes an old wreck of a car appeared with many sets of shiny white teeth in dark faces.  They offered me a lift but were only going 5 miles so I thanked them but passed.  The next car stopped and the driver said he was going to Cobar.  Lovely.  He then said he'd had a couple of beers so he might asked me to drive if he started to get sleepy.  Not a problem.  He asked me if I'd like a beer as there was a cold one in an esky.  He'd driven from Katoomba and I think had pretty much demolished a case of beer en route.  However he seemed to be in control of the car, and compared to the later manifestation of my previous ride, in control of himself.  We had a beer - or perhaps two, after 48 years the details are a little hazy - each and got to Cobar about 2300 hrs, me having learnt a bit about wool classing (that being the driver's trade).  He was going to sleep in the bush and as I had a sleeping bag that was fine.

We awoke about 0600 and drove back into Cobar (5) for breakfast which was taken at a cafe,  I then set out on the road about 0700.  I walked steadily for about 3 hours, having no luck with a ride.  I was just over a hill when I heard a car coming so turned to look as I stuck my thumb out.  Oops blue lights.  I suddenly took an interest in the paddock of sheep as the car pulled up behind me and a voice asked what I was doing.   I explained I was hitching to Adelaide and they asked what I was going to do if I didn't get a lift.  I explained that if I didn't get a ride in the next hour I was going to cross the road and get a ride (or walk) back to Cobar.  On being asked if I would like a ride back then I said  "yes please" and hopped in.  They complained briefly about the number of flies I brought with me but then looked closely to see if any of the oncoming cars looked like they would take me onwards.  No luck so back to Cobar about 1100.

No joy getting a lift.  A truckie having lunch in a servo said he'd think about it if I was still there when he had had his meal.  About 1500 hrs a 350 Monaro pulled over and offered me a ride.  Turned out the driver was going to Perth (and then on to Broome).   He'd come from Cairns!  He was going to sell the car in Perth and didn't want the distance to appear on the odometer so he disconnected the speedo.  After a little while he said he was feeling tired and would like a sleep so could I drive.  Sure thing - what about the speedo "Get it into top and keep it at 3000 revs.  You'll be OK "  

The countryside was going past quite briskly and after about 40 minutes I hit dirt road of which there was about 30 miles before Willcania.  Roughly point 6.  He woke up and took over feeling refreshed.  I  asked how many mph there were per 1000 revs "About 40",  Shit! you do the math!   We got about 2 miles down the dirt road and hit a thunderstorm.  This had flooded the road so he stopped for a while until the level dropped  (At some point I went for a wade to assess depth and got my white  moleskins damp with water carrying a lot of red soil.  Goodbye moleskins.)   After about an hour (by which time it was dark) we set off, going through water for the first couple of miles.  Then we got to some hills so no more water, just very slippery red dirt.  The skill for the remainder of the distance to Wilcannia was astonishing: he kept the revs steady and just opposite locked around the bends: rather like being a passenger in a Sprintcar at the speedway.  He said his job was driving the ore trucks in the Pilbara and compared to driving one of them in a cyclone this was a piece of cake.

Anyway we got back to the bitumen, passed through Broken Hill and stopped to sleep at the SA border.  The next morning he dropped me off in Peterborough after watching the fuel pump have to go round twice (40 gallons) to fill up the car.  I think I worked out he was getting about 10 miles per gallon (about 28 litres per 100km).  I hope he made it back to Broome!

The final ride was  very staid, apart from it clearly being a Holden, but having a Mercedes star as a hood ornament.  Just a joke apparently.

 I met up with my mate Ian (who I think won the tournament) and then passed a very entertaining evening with all the tennis players doing various daft things in the pub they were billeted in.  Back to sanoty in Adelaide the next day.