Days 6 & 7: Pooped

What adventure would be complete without a solid challenge. For the greatest effect, ensure that the obstacle is placed two-thirds of the way through the narrative and gives our protagonist something to overcome.

The day got off to a reasonable start. Continuing my slow but altogether enjoyable slide into madness, a chicken woke my up by pecking at my tent. The regular 'shoo's didn't do the trick but when a cow in the distance moo'd, I informed the chicken that his mum was calling him and he ran off. I found it wildly amusing, chortling to myself for some time before considering the absurdity of the entire situations and got myself packed up.

The ride was quickly underway after a topping off my coffee and bacon levels at a cafe overlooking Nambucca Heads. By 10am, the sun was already beating down ferociously and by midday I had already been through 9 litres of water.

At the 70km mark, I was met by my mother with a hamburger, a sports drink and an offer to take my panniers to Port Macquarie where I would be staying at her house. Needless to say, I needed little convincing on any front and I'm eternally grateful.

Throughout the afternoon I became aware I wasn't nearly as hungry as I usually would be and was considerably more tired. I eschewed dinner and bid mum goodnight, looking forward to a night in a warm bed, only to be awoken a couple hours later (and each 20 minutes thereafter) to let my body decide which end it wished to evacuate itself from.

It seemed that the sun had got the better of me and I have got myself a rather nasty touch of heatstroke. Fortunately I am staying with mother-dearest so I opted to have a day off from riding to concentrate on maintaining a comfortable proximity to the bathroom. When I finally had things under control using a combination of naps and questionably potent pharmaceuticals, my sister escorted my fragile self into town to find something a little more sun appropriate than a singlet. Naturally, McDonald's was enjoyed by all - what I can only assume is a surefire sign of recovery.

Now a day behind, the plan is to head to Nabiac tomorrow, then onto Newcastle, from Newcastle to Gosford and then Gosford to Hornsby, where I plan to promptly collapse into a train home.

Today's soundtrack: Roderick on the Line Podcast and the toilet cistern.

Thanks for readying!