Beneath the sunny sky

When we first started talking about a year of travelling we went through all the ecological modes we might employ to move around. Our humble pushies became the most obvious choice. And so too for Jeff, an American we met briefly on the climb to Batlow, who is on his fourth bike tour of Australia. Jeff is the first bike tourer we've met since we pushed off a month ago.

We made the decision to stop flying four years ago and made ourselves carless three years ago, wanting to see if it was possible to live well with such seemingly radical restrictions. These decisions have paid dividends in terms of the money we no longer need to earn and have given us more time to do what we want to do.

Before we left Tumbarumba we met Adam, camped at the caravan park for the next few months picking blueberries (Vaccinium spp.) on a nearby farm. At home in Tumut, Adam grows heirloom vegies organically turning his political energy into rich friable soil, knowing that the way to abstain from participating in corporate damage is to be accountable for one's own resources. On our last night Adam brought us back a bowl of delicious blueberries he'd picked from the farm and in return we were able to pass on to him a little paperback edition on the uses and benefits of dandelions.

As an antioxidant, blueberries (eaten raw) fight free radicals that are damaging to cells and DNA. They rate low in terms of their glycemic index (GI) and therefore are considered slow-release energy food. They are high in vitamins K and C, and manganese and fibre. Thanks Adam!

Being on the lookout for local produce and exposed to all the elements as we ride may appear a tad utopian, but the reality at times is not so pleasurable. Our two most dreaded things to come across on the road are pesticides and big trucks. Coming into Batlow we copped a mouthful of what tasted like Mortein as an apple farmer was mass spraying on a windy day, and since Tallangatta we've had to contend with streams of heavy trucks.

Many of the trucks are carrying wood-chips or logs from the extremely damaging pine plantations that are rapidly destroying soil and water ecologies in this beautiful region of two thousand springs and creeks.

How our culture behaves is truly saddening, but it is land and the people we are meeting that counter much of this negativity. We arrived in Tumut and this lovely family greeted us in the street with the proposal of a warm shower and a place to camp for the night.

This portrait (sans Anthony who'd left for work) was taken just after Valerie had cooked us a delicious pot of breakfast porridge. Rose, Lily, Jasmine and Dom (Zeph would have loved meeting you all) shared their personal stories before they headed off for school and we headed off to the park to meet another colourful local family.

While recharging in the park we spotted what looked like a pretty interesting workshop being conducted. Waradajhi (Wiradjuri) ranger Shane Herrington was holding a 'men's honour' workshop, teaching the art of making traditional hunting tools at the Tumut-Brungle Community Centre.

Shane immediately included Patrick in the workshop and got him helping to heat and layer with wood dust the maleable gum of grass trees (Xanthorrhoea),

which was used traditionally to help bond the spearhead, in this case red gum (Eucalyptus camaldulensis), to the spearshaft. This one was made from native hemp (Gynatrix pulchella).

Shane then demonstrated how to turn various fibres (stringybark, grasses and reeds) into multiply string. No polluting machines necessary, only hands and thighs, a skill used by both men and women but according to Shane was exclusively taught by the women.

After meeting some of the Tumut-Brungle community we were eager to head out to Brungle situated on a relatively truck-free road about halfway between Tumut and Gundagai. This is truly magical country.

As we arrived we were startled by an incredible display of light. Is this what an animistic welcome to country looks like? It certainly seemed to speak of the same warmth and welcome we were offered back in Tumut.

Then after almost a month of travelling and observing unripe cherry plums (Prunus cerasifera) all along the roadsides, we finally cycled into country that offered up this free delicious food, ripe and ready for the picking.

Such gifts of the autonomous gods were true blessings and Woody hoed into the red ones too, fitting several in his mouth at once.

But not everything goes the way one might like it and after Brungle we had an exhaustive climb to Gundagai. Because Patrick's motor has given up (again) his knees have been giving him grave troubles. Cursing expensive but poorly made Chinese technology he struggled in the afternoon heat, making for a long afternoon's ride with a heavy load along the track winding back...

We arrived in Gundagai in the early evening, crossed this lovely old river on a ricketty old bridge,

set up camp, collapsed into bed and breakfasted on these magnificent figs (Ficus spp.) found in the town.

Time now to rest for a day, plan our next leg along the dreaded Hume (little choice but to ride along this noisy highway for a while) and attend to the fruitful smells emanating from our clothes.

Tumbarumba – a town of dandies

This is the second time we've been forced to stop in one place waiting for a bike part to arrive, but as our wise friend John (who we met in Colac Colac) says, "It's not the problem that's important, but how you handle it." Time is expanding out for us in this slow journeying through beautiful hill country and we are appreciating what happens when life is slow and ecologically calibrated.

We saw this incredible Walgalu coolaman at the Tumbarumba museum. A coolaman is typically used for baby cradling and bathing and food storage, gathering and preparation. One tool, many uses – brilliant, appropriate and non-polluting technology! It has made us think about each of the tools we've brought along on our ride.

This is our root vegetable tool. It slices down through the soil and uproots deeply buried sources of free and highly nutritious carbohydrate. But we also use it for digging toilet pits, digging for worms to fish with, and Woody uses it as a toy. Dandelion (Taraxacum officinale) roots are everywhere in temperate Australia and now is a good time to harvest the young tap roots and the tender leaves, especially in the ranges where it is still cool and the roots haven't become too woody.

While in Tumba we had the chance to rest and laze, throw a line in the creek and do a little gentle foraging.

We caught a 25cm rainbow trout (Oncorhynchus mykiss) and made a delicious meal using local and bicycled ingredients:

Tumbarumba Creek trout, Tumbarumba parkland dandelion root and leaves, our home-grown garlic (bicycled), Tallangatta backyard lemons (bicycled. Thanks George and Laura!), Biodynamic Powlett Hill pasta (bicycled from our local region) and Benalla olive oil (bicycled from Benalla).

We cooked the garlic inside the fish and BBQ'd the dandelion root in the fish juices, adding some olive oil. We cooked the pasta, strained and emptied it onto a bed of washed dandelion leaves. We added more olive oil and squeezed lemon and let the pasta gently steam the leaves. We then added the fish and roots and, well, we can highly recommend this dish...

After a few nights free-camping in the Tumbarumba township we thought it time to do some washing and headed along to the caravan park and pitched our tents beside the Tumbarumba Creek.

With time to drift we closed up the tents, covered the bikes and hopped on a local bus for a wee adventure to Batlow where we knocked on a door to a house with a yard full of chooks and asked whether we could purchase some eggs.

The delightful Eileen welcomed us to her little appley town and we paid $2 (after insisting on paying something) for six just-laid eggs from happy gals such as this proud mama.

In both Tumbarumba and Batlow the towns are filling with a multiplicity of ethnicities to work in the orchards. These particular itinerate workers are using their Sunday to write to loved ones, hotspotting from the town's library and pulling free spark from the public toilets next door.

Sudanese, French, American, Japanese, Nepalese, Thai and Taiwanese are arriving in the towns to pick blueberries or thin the apples.

Our little caravan park is a hotspot of culture mashing. Amber, a graduate of literature from Taiwan, took a particular liking to Zero and hung out by the creek with Meg and Woody

while Patrick jumped into the outdoor communal kitchen to see what he could rustle up with another large bunch of freshly foraged dandelion. Notice the modern day coolamon.

We thought it time for a medicinal booster using three of the most punchy beneficial foods – cayenne, garlic and dandelion – none of which are store bought but either grown or foraged by us.

Patrick caramelised this awesome threesome in the Benalla olive oil, added the chopped dandelion leaves, cooking them through before adding water and boiling. He then changed the water to lessen the bitterness, simmered towards a soup,

strained off the water, laid the highly medicinal veg on a bed of Tumbarumba sourdough and finished the dish with Eileen's gorgeous eggs. A simple and delicious preventative to illness and the need for commercial pharmaceuticals.

Our bike part has now arrived (thanks Sam!), we're feeling nourished, rested and nurtured by a host of local peeps (thanks Peta, Laura, Geoff, Kate, Heather, Adam, Wayne, Peter, Debbie, Graeme and Julie), and we're ready to face the hills again and the next stage of our journey. Thanks for travelling along with us.

Ups and downs

From 34 degrees celsius in the shade at Colac Colac (note the bike rider's stockings),

to an overnight low of 6 degrees at Paddys River Flats free camping ground, just shy of Tumbarumba,

it has been a short leg of ups and downs, but mainly ups.

We left Colac Colac refreshed and recharged ready for what we knew would be a few big days in the saddle, regardless of which route we took.

We wanted to go through the Snowy Mountains (Khancoban, Thredbo, Cooma etc), but we have Zero with us and (the long and the short of it is) dogs are only permited to pass through National Parks in climate changing cars. Say it like it is Zero!

So we headed north, crossing the Murray into New South Wales at Towong,

and climbed and climbed and strained and at times got off and pushed our heavy loads

right up into the clouds

so we could look out across to Tidbillaga, one of the many Indigenous names for the Snowy Mountains,

and like true ecological mammals, return some precious nutrients to the soil before tackling the afternoon's ascent.

It was an extrutiating 64 kms to Paddys River Flats where the weather turned cold and wet and Woody experienced rain on a tent for the first time. Things got a little wet overnight so we packed up and cooked breakfast in the camp ground amenities,

before we realised Patrick's bike had more issues, this time electrical. With the climb up such ascents as Clarkes Hill (742m above sea level) we've been relying on some electrical assistance. Now we're in NSW the stretches between towns is greater and the chance to recharge the bikes reduced.

Out of the half dozen or so campers at Paddys River Flats was Graeme, a fully licensed electrician. We couldn't believe our luck.

Graeme scrutinised the root cause of the problem while his partner Julie brought us all cups of tea. He ascertained that moisture had got into the controller, something not fixable in the bush, so he offered to take Patrick's panniers into Tumbarumba when he went in to do some shopping and we set off to climb another 18 km into town and find a camp spot here,

hidden behind the melaleucas in the town's park, nestled among the leaf litter

where we can fish for trout, use the municipal BBQs, toilets, power, playground, drinking water, wake with the birds, wait for a new controller to arrive, and

generally practice our particular form of creative frugality.

With every problem comes surprise and delight

We have spent five nights camped at the very beautiful Colac Colac Caravan Park awaiting parts to fix Patrick's wheel. We have practiced free-range parenting, the art of patience and some wild food gathering, bringing us more delicious loquats,

and...

This lovely mama went straight back in the Nariel Creek from where we clutched her. It is now 'closed season' for Murray spiny freshwater crayfish (Euastacus armatus).

Over our short stay we have got to know nearby Corryong by riding into town for supplies.

We've also got to know a little about the horse thief Jack Riley, romanticised with ample hyperbole as the good-boy-hero Man from Snowy River, buried in the town. Thanks for the history lesson Warwick!

We have been touched by people's generosity. Phil, our host at the caravan park, organised the wheel to be couriered to the Albury bikeshop, made numerous phone calls on the progress of the repair and kept us in good humour when it looked like a much longer wait than first thought. Thanks Phil!

Our friendly neighbours in the park loaned us their bike so we could all go on local expeditions. Thanks John and Jenny!

And these lovely women who we met in Corryong, gathered up their freshest garden produce including a dozen eggs and brought them out to us at Clack Clack. Thanks Nina, Eden and Jum!

Your food was a blessing. By living out of our own garden, food swaps, community gardens, food co-ops and by foraging and hunting we haven't had to shop in supermarkets for nearly seven years. On this trip, with much less access to local food, we are finding out first-hand just how impoverished the industrial-corporate food industry is. At home we would avoid any food grown in another state, on the road we're struggling to find bought food made in Australia. It was great to be able to cook up local garden frittatas for the neighbours on our last night.

There is just nothing like real food that has come from loved earth. Until science is freed from the economic imperatives of industry, people are going to be kept in the dark about how innutrituous, health-degrading and ecologically damaging our modern food supply really is. The annual increases in pharmaceutical medicine is proof enough that much modern food is woeful deception dressed up by PR firms.

For our children's sake, isn't it time we put our resources back in our own hands?