The Crossing Madura Pass

An Unexpected View

I finished the second half of the Cocklebiddy-to-Madura split, got surprised by the huge view after climbing up near Madura Pass, and reached the roadhouse as darkness fell.

Date 17 June 2015

Journey day Day 33

Wide view across the country below Madura Pass under a blue-grey sky — The view near Madura Pass was the moment that stopped the day feeling like just another long push to a roadhouse.

The unexpected view near Madura is the part of Day 33 that still comes back first.

Not the distance, although 48.3 kilometres was a proper day. Not even the roadhouse, although reaching Madura mattered. The thing that stayed with me was climbing up near Madura Pass and suddenly having the country open out in front of me.

I had started from the Moonera Tank rest-area stretch, picking up the second half of the split from Cocklebiddy to Madura. The previous day had been about getting back into motion after the Cocklebiddy pause and stopping somewhere practical enough to make the next day possible. This was the other half of that plan.

Madura Roadhouse was the target. Out there, a roadhouse was not just somewhere to buy food. It was a named point on the map, a place for the campervan to settle, a possible shower, a meal, a reset, and a little island of light after a lot of exposed highway.

The morning still had that winter Nullarbor feeling: big sky, low cloud, a line of highway ahead, and not much else to hide inside. The route was simple in one sense, because I was still following the Eyre Highway. The work was in doing it for hour after hour without letting the repetition flatten everything.

Ben had his own subplot going on.

He was working through a training plan for a half marathon in September, and that day’s session was supposed to be a 30-minute tempo run. I explained the idea: warm up, settle into the middle section at pace, cool down, and cover about five kilometres all up.

He listened carefully, then ignored almost all of it and ran flat out for a 5K PB.

I cannot pretend that was the textbook session, but it was very Ben, and it gave the day a bit of ridiculous energy in the middle of all that open space.

Later in the afternoon the country began to change. The long, level feeling of the highway gave way to the approach into Madura Pass, and then the view arrived all at once.

I had not known it was coming. I climbed up onto the earth wall beside the cutting and looked out over this huge sweep of land below. It felt right out of Middle Earth, the sort of place where you could imagine a vast fantasy battle forming in the distance. A few minutes earlier I had been doing the ordinary job of getting myself to the next roadhouse. Then, suddenly, I was standing above one of the most breathtaking views of the crossing.

I was so glad I reached it while there was still daylight.

The final kilometres carried me into Madura Roadhouse as darkness was falling. By then I had locked in 48.3 kilometres for the day, with 1373.1 kilometres behind me.

At the roadhouse I chatted with a couple of truck drivers who had seen me earlier on the highway, which was one of those strange Nullarbor reminders that even when the landscape felt empty, people were still noticing. Eventually I found where the campervan was parked, and the day shifted from movement to recovery.

Dinner became the second thing that stayed with me.

The restaurant was not what I expected. It had a homely, almost old-fashioned feel, with little bits and pieces on display and the tables set properly. After a long exposed day outside, that small domestic warmth landed beautifully.

The food was good too. Really good. Madura could easily have been remembered only as another roadhouse stop on the crossing. Instead it became a day with a surprise view, a funny Ben moment, truck drivers who recognised the journey, and a dinner that felt much better than I had any right to expect.

That was enough to make it feel like more than 48 kilometres banked. It felt like a place.