And we thought we had been unlucky with some of our St Helens weather to date. Ha! As we hauled out of town in the murky mist of a really dreary morning, we did spare a brief moment to rejoice in the fact we were not one of those closely cosseted in one of the Cosy Corner camp sites. It would be all mud and misery!
But as we approached the highway and took our last look out over Georges Bay I knew we had our own challenges to deal with. The experience of our pre-Xmas drive over this route left me in no doubt that today I would be busy.
The road under the Cecelia Street avenue was glistening,
and as we left the outskirts of town and began our climb into the mountains, the sight in front of us was less than encouraging. This was definitely going to be a day to seriously knuckle down behind the wheel.
We did enjoy a few short moments of respite here and there
but as we passed the familiar Pyengana turn-off, things ahead looked increasingly grim.
To my relief, as we entered the first 'fun section' of this road the mist dissipated to a large extent
and we were able to negotiate the first of the curves in relatively clear conditions.
But on this highway there is always something to sharpen one's focus behind the wheel. Passing room could best be described as minimal. We did wonder to whom the peculiar sign on the front of this truck referred. Not us, buster....we are old hands now!
For a few kilometres more we did have the pleasure of a clear view of the dense tree fern thickets which are a feature of the road,
and spotted something we had missed on our first run through...this starkly light coloured tree standing in complete contrast to its background.
But by now, as we climbed higher towards the first mountain ridge, the fun was over.
The mist enveloped us like an undertaker's shroud
and soon assumed real 'pea soup' characteristics. As we crawled through the gloom I was not looking forward to what I knew was a challenging descent into the Weld River valley.
As we approached the downhill run, the weather gods smiled on us
with nought but a hint of mist in the trees.
As we climbed out of the river ravine we could see that the occupants of this mobile home were not going to let the weather deter them from a walk through the nearby beautiful Weld River reserve.
What a welcome sign this was.
As we completed the last few metres into what can only be described as a tiny hamlet, the familiar sight of the Weldborough Hotel brought a smile to our faces,
and as we eased our way in along the driveway beside the pub I did reflect on the fact that our previous drive across here had been a boon.....we at least knew exactly what we were in for when we left St Helens.
All that now remained was to pitch our tent in the wide expanses of the paddock behind the hotel. We were not entirely alone but we had no complaints about elbow room. We noticed that one of the two other vans here bore SA plates, and we were later to experience another 'one of those meetings on the road'. This was to come later in what proved to be a really grand evening in the pub.
But for now, it was settle in on our levelling blocks and let Max out for a much anticipated roam around his new patch
before we set off to explore the town and our immediate surroundings. Despite our relatively early arrival, we had managed to rustle up one of the early starting hotel hands to pay our camp fee of $20 (this was not one of the pub freebies, but we were more than content) and confirm our welcome.
As it transpired, all we had hoped for from an overnight stay at this mountain retreat became a reality.....in spades!
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