At the start of the day I rode up to the Giles Weather Station where a portly chap took me and some of the campervaners on a free tour of the station. We got to see the launch of the weather balloon where a tall, lanky young guy in a blue lab coat strode out, counted 3-2-1, and released the balloon. He then walked to a viewfinder to track the path of the balloon, to focus the radar I believe.
When I got back to the roadhouse to hand the keys in, the bloke told me of a wind warning for 100km winds and that Giles had to launch an unshceduled balloon at 11pm. I rode for a while but the winds were pounding me and I took shelter behind some heaps of gravel left by roadworks.
I slept all day in my sleeping bag, even when rained soaked it. The darkness of nightfall crept up suddenly as there was no chorus of birds singing at dusk and no animals howling or scratching or running. The red craggy gravel heaps made a desolate silhouette like a lifeless skull of a planet with penetrating winds.
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