A very mild night in the Baradine camping ground. We arrived back at our tents after giving the Tattersalls pub some business, and the mozzies descended, and set up an all-night vigil outside my mesh. I emerged in the morning with a liberal covering of "Off!" and proceeded with my usual 2.5hr ritual that SHOULD achieve more than 2 cups of coffee, a bowl of muesli, and a packed bike. 2nd breakfast in Baradine proper (after all, it was over a kilometre away) then south-ish to the Warrumbungle National Park. The previous day a bolt from my rear rack had left me, but I replaced it with one stolen from Pete's bike (I'm sure it wasn't doing anything useful). Today, its opposite partner gave up the ghost too, and unfortunately Pete's bike was out of spares. A farmhouse with a big shed alongside the gravel road looked promising so we popped in and asked the lady for the usual stuff that passing cyclists ask for - some baling wire, pliers, and wire cutters. "You're welcome to look around in the shed. I'm sure all that stuff is there". She was right. And in 5 minutes were were on our way again. A wonderful mixed-surface ride to our next campsite at Wambelong, just inside the Park. Butterflies, parrots, kookaburras, and kangaroos.  And a babbling brook bath for all. And, hello hello, it appears a bottle of Shiraz got poured into my Platypus wine cask this morning...