– Wiradjiru Country – We were lucky really. In the weeks before, roads were cut or damaged, and towns were flooding or recovering. The wet season had stretched deep into March. Autumn hadn’t been all sunshine and soft temperatures. More like damp, grey and foreboding of change. On the night before our ride, the rain hammered the tin roof of our Mudgee motel. Thoughts of raincoats, mud and soggy shoes ran amok…. Read More