THE SECOND INSTALLMENT IN OUR GRIPPING SAGA
Fortunately before too long Mischa’s keen eyes spotted what appeared an ancient, overgrown horse and buggy road which lead away down the hill. We decided to follow it figuring it must join up to a road somewhere. We were right. A raucous bash down the dodgy old road ended in an abrupt halt when we were confronted by a barbed wire fence that cut right across the path. As we desperately skidded to a stop and the bracken settled we could clearly hear the sweet sound of tyre on asphalt. We had found the highway. Ben lead on AS Mischa and I followed and we carried our bikes over one last fence, through a ditch and over a blackberry bush to finally stumble out onto our own ‘yellow brick road’. Never mind that this road was black and sticky with the heat, it was going to lead us straight to the Longley hotel and sweet relief.
As we finally rolled up to the pub Mischa and Ben rushed inside to quench their thirst. It was now that I made a grave error of judgement. This hotel was the far point of the ride and such a welcome sight after being dragged across paddocks in the sweltering heat, that I felt that I needed to take a photograph. I assumed the other two would be safely settled in at the bar and I would be able to join them at my leisure. Wrong. The plan had changed. Ben and Mischa emerged from the pub with a six pack under the arm and set off to drink their spoils in the Longley water hole. A water hole I had no idea how to find. I was still trying to frame my shot. As I frantically stuffed my camera back into my bag and jammed sweaty hands back into sweatier gloves I glimpsed the other two riding off into the distance and around the corner. I didn’t know how to get to the water hole and these guys had my hard earned beers in their greedy mits.

The far point of the ride, the beautiful Longley Hotel.
I set off down the road thinking, stupidly, that the other guys would wait at the turnoff or at least leave a beer on the road as a marker. I failed to consider the considerable mirth that they would bring themselves by letting me toil and sweat around the hills of Longley trying to find the water hole. As they cracked a hard earned, desperately needed cascade blue and cooled off in the pristine waters of Longley’s waters I was climbing towards Neika looking for any sign of a water hole or the boys. I was hot and getting thirstier by the second. I still had no water in my bottle and I seemed to be climbing higher and higher, surely I had missed the turn. I knew if I turned back and looked more closely for a turn off that I could at least back track to the pub and fill up my water bottle. So back I turned, descending fast back into Longley to continue my fruitless search for this goddamned water hole.

Mischa and Ben were deeply concerned when I got lost, here they
discuss how to find me while they drink my beer.
After sating my need for water back in Longley I was still desperately thirsty but this was a different kind of thirst. A viciously jealous thirst for beer. I tried again to find the turn for the swim spot. On my second attempt I had no more luck. Wouldn’t the guys have come back out onto the road to find me by now? I climbed back out of Longley once more determined to track down the crew. This time I climbed for longer and higher until I stood under the sign for the next town, Neika. There was no way the Longley water hole was in Neika. What had I missed? I fished around in my bag and found my phone. No messages from Mischa or Ben. I sent a text. “I’ve climbed to Neika, have I missed the turn or do I keep climbing?” I waited for a response.
After a few long moments at the top of the Nieka climb my phone buzzed with the information I needed, my directions to beer and blissful relief from the heat. I was devastated by what I read. “You’re where? Water hole is first left, 100m after Longley pub!” I’d done all that work for nothing! All there was left to do was sheepishly descend once more to the Longley hotel and claim the beers I thoroughly deserved. Of course as I rolled up to the water hole Ben was finishing off my beer! Mercifully the boys had left me one last can floating in the water, all I had to do was dive in quick and retrieve it. Beer has never tasted that good!

We ended up drinking half a carton of the stuff. It didn’t end well for Ben.
To be concluded…
no it didn’t.. (should have bought a carton, heaps cheaper that way)
still no mention of the melted powerbars?