Our view through the open blinds overnight showed dim outlines of the vista sullenly lit by the late half moon on the far side of the cloud cover that was threatening to derail the next days activities. "Despair not" said the sun as it whipped over the horizon and slowly but surely blew all vestiges of visible vapor away.
Over breakfast on the upper level we got to witness this interaction whilst chowing down on our included continental breakfast before heading into town in order to set up the first of the days poor planning experiences. Had thorough prep been done we would've known that the journey to the top could've been done whilst we hung around for the dress shop to open, never mind though, being on holidays means not caring too much about stuff. In the meantime a stroll down to the lake revealed that even the lower sites of the caravan park were flooded. As mentioned previously this appears to be a failure somehow...the lake has an uncontrolled spillway. If the water reaches a certain level - over it goes, cascading into the Snowy river and if there's enough of the stuff will end up stuffing up the surrounds of Orbost. Seems really strange people would put caravan sites, pathways and playground equipment where the hight of the tide is actually well known. So much for leaving ponderings in the capital..
Leaving this conundrum behind we headed up the smooth winding roads to the upper reaches of the continent passing a smidgen of lycra clad wheelies on the way. Tomorrow they close down all the roads in the area and let these strange creatures have a free-for-all all day long as they swarm over the hills like sugar ants following trails, all in hurry, passing each other one way, almost colliding with oncomings yet always dodging each other at the last instance. Admittedly ants don't have support structures like refreshment tents, portable rest rooms and ambulances... then again maybe they do.
Our main joy about all if this is that we were not affected by the whole affair and managed to get a view of Kosciusko in the distance and appreciate the true beauty of the high plains with a clear blue sky reflecting the pristine clear waters of the creeks which eventually turn into majestic rivers.
That peak over there is now on the bucket list.
Back into town to attend the now open shop we then set off along the Alpine way in order to get to Omeo via Corryong. Lots of winding roads, spectacular scenery, from high mountain tops down to clear rivers carving forest lined steep valleys, this is one spectacular drive.
After a brief pit stop at a riverside camp and a picture view of one of the many hydro stations that opened all this area up we eventually hit some flat earth, green pastures and some straight stretches where we crossed a very different (preferable) Murray River and back into the police state (the signs infer this).
Everything was going swimmingly, smooth roads, beautiful scenery, no traffic and then up the end of the valley a sign said "Gravel road - next 62 km". And it all turned to shite.
This was not like the straight smooth dirt roads we'd experienced in the flat outback plains of NSW that one could hurtle along with careless abandon. These were covered in sharp tyre slashing rocks that needed to be carefully navigated (unless of course you are a large truck or truck tyre bearing type of 4WD).
These parts had been decimated in last years catastrophic fires and are now showing signs of rejuvenation, however the hills still have an unhealthy smear of grey from the distance which up close is all the dead trunks showing through the new foliage.
High up, on the top of the ridges snapshots of the classic blue hills and valleys overlapping each other in different shades of the colour were glimpsed at, however we didn't stop to pause and take it in as the road was too demanding, the dust all consuming and the threat of a hurtling monster using the same track was too daunting.
Suspect the road had been recently redone after the fires and needs some time to settle in. We rejoiced when when the gravel turned back to bitumen and then cursed when it changed back again around the next corner. This kept happening, over and over again as if the engineers who look after the strip were just having fun with us.
"Hey I know Bob - what say we just seal this bend and then more around that corner - just to get their hopes up - and then we go back to sharp rocks again - just to bring em down again" ?
"Ah Bill, love your thinkin' - I'll go get the grader. High five mate" Laughs all round.
Through all this malicious emotional road making manipulation we stayed sane by listening to an audio book. After all, we have an Outback and are beyond such couth behaviors. Eventually though the bitumen persisted, we landed on the valley floor, passing trees turned to grass and the speed went up to cruising mode.
Covered in dust, physically spent we limped into Omeo, unable to read clearly written signs and yet eventually found the room into which we unloaded.
A quick recon on the foldup revealed a disturbing sculpture just around the corner. Is there no escape from this?
Omeo seems strangley quiet for a Friday night in country town, a delicious meal in the pub across the road was punctuated by a nice old dude who passed on his unwanted (much appreciated by us) garlic bread and the farewell by one of the locals to the barmaid "Thanks Jess.. I'll be thinking of of you as I watch my movies tonight" Laughs all round.
You had to be there. We were.
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