A Chilly but Refreshing Morning
On March 11, I woke up at a campsite near Karridale. The air was cool, but refreshing. My tent was just large enough to fit me when lying down, so only the essentials were inside. Everything else stayed outside, with the thought that if something was stolen, I would simply accept it.
After packing up my gear, I prepared for the long day ahead. My goal was to cycle past Manjimup and reach Middlesex, a ride of over 100 kilometers. Knowing the distance, I considered the option of camping along the way if needed.
Before leaving, I ate a light breakfast. Canned food has become essential for my cycling journey. Most of my diet consists of canned goods and oatmeal—about 60%—while the rest includes foods like instant noodles or pasta that require cooking. Having ready-to-eat food is crucial when fire can’t be used, especially in Western Australia where water is scarce. It’s a balance between convenience and variety.
Endless Dirt Roads
At 7 a.m., I set off, only to be greeted immediately by dirt roads stretching endlessly ahead. The scenery was beautiful, but the uneven ground made riding difficult.
Even after an hour, the dirt continued. Another hour passed, and finally, the dirt road ended—only to be replaced by thick grass that made pedaling just as hard.
Later, the road narrowed further, with weeds crowding in from both sides, making the ride slow and frustrating. After nearly three hours of this, I finally reached an open road. Relief washed over me, though fatigue had already set in. By then it was past 4 p.m., and I began thinking about where to camp.
An Unexpected Invitation
Just as I was searching, a man tending cattle waved me over and invited me to his home. With no suitable campgrounds nearby, his kindness was a blessing.
He then asked me to join him at his workplace. I climbed into his farm truck, and together we drove around the ranch. The sheepdogs were small but worked tirelessly, darting back and forth. The tractor shook violently, making the ride bumpy but fun. The man wore a mask, and I quickly understood why—the dust and smoke would have been unbearable without it.
Looking out across the fields, I saw more than 100 cows. In the evening, he carefully counted each one by sector. Watching him, I was struck by the patience and dedication it took to count every single animal.
There were also horses on the property. When I asked why, he explained that during floods, when trucks can’t be used, horses are essential for moving around the ranch. It was something I had never considered before—so different from life in Japan.
A Dinner of Meat and Gratitude
After about an hour touring the ranch, we returned home. My bike was stored safely under a roof, and soon after, dinner was served: sausages and hamburgers. Meat is not something I often get to eat while traveling, so I savored every bite.
Later that night, close to 1 a.m., I sat down to write a letter of thanks. Traveling has taught me that gratitude should be expressed immediately, before the feeling fades away. My English might not have been perfect, but I hoped my sincerity would be understood.
It had been a long and tiring day, but also one filled with kindness, learning, and warmth. I went to sleep grateful for the hospitality, the dinner, and the chance to meet such a generous man.
