Mulga Bill Visits Wagga Wagga

If you were to utilise Google Earth and look down on the intersection of Blamey and Heath St, Wagga Wagga, you will see the old surveyors got their plans drastically wrong. Not that i can attribute my near miss to their error rather its an effort to set the scene. Blamey St has a slight dogleg, a traffic islands has been installed to help traffic negotiate this surveying anomaly

I live futher up on a hill on Mitchelmore Street. When I arrived in wagga 2 months ago, I bought a new bike from Big W. Made in China , light framed, hard wheeled, 21 gear, racing bike. Cheap bit of rubbish that I ride carefully around the streets trying to avoid any sharps or culverts. The gear shift is very flimsy and awkward to manage. I commence my ride from the street, point the bike down hill , hit high gear and power off . I was up to full speed as fast as i could peddle as approached the intersection . The road was wet from the recent rain and I was starting to feel water flicked off the front wheel on my face and up my back.

At the intersection I looked to the right right, all clear . I then my gaze to the left and to my horror I spotted a white toyota coming fast. I moved quickly towards my brakes and applied pressure. Nothing seemed to respond, my forward momentum was not slowed one iota. Decision time, do or die . Two options flicked into my mind .. . slow and hit the vehicle or power up and hope I just may get through.

The second option seemed to take effect automatically . The ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ of car tyres on wet tar seal met my ears as I powered towards my escape route . I allowed my peripheral vision to check the cars progress as I kept my focus on my objective. The white bonnet and bumper bar loomed closer and slipped just past my back wheel . The car horn sounded as if to say " You Bastard, I had the right away"

I raised my right hand in salute to the driver and continued at full speed on my way down the hill towards work . I expected him or her , ( I never did see the whites of the drivers eyes ) to come round the block and engage in dialogue.

MULGA BILL'S BICYCLE by A.B. "Banjo" Paterson

'Twas Mulga Bill, from Eaglehawk, that caught the cycling craze;
He turned away the good old horse that served him many days;
He dressed himself in cycling clothes, resplendent to be seen;
He hurried off to town and bought a shining new machine;
And as he wheeled it through the door, with air of lordly pride,
The grinning shop assistant said, "Excuse me, can you ride?"


"See here, young man," said Mulga Bill, "from Walgett to the sea,
From Conroy's Gap to Castlereagh, there's none can ride like me.
I'm good all round at everything as everybody knows,
Although I'm not the one to talk - I hate a man that blows.
But riding is my special gift, my chiefest, sole delight;
Just ask a wild duck can it swim, a wildcat can it fight.
There's nothing clothed in hair or hide, or built of flesh or steel,
There's nothing walks or jumps, or runs, on axle, hoof, or wheel,
But what I'll sit, while hide will hold and girths and straps are tight:
I'll ride this here two-wheeled concern right straight away at sight."


'Twas Mulga Bill, from Eaglehawk, that sought his own abode,
That perched above Dead Man's Creek, beside the mountain road.
He turned the cycle down the hill and mounted for the fray,
But 'ere he'd gone a dozen yards it bolted clean away.
It left the track, and through the trees, just like a silver steak,
It whistled down the awful slope towards the Dead Man's Creek.


It shaved a stump by half an inch, it dodged a big white-box:
The very wallaroos in fright went scrambling up the rocks,
The wombats hiding in their caves dug deeper underground,
As Mulga Bill, as white as chalk, sat tight to every bound.
It struck a stone and gave a spring that cleared a fallen tree,
It raced beside a precipice as close as close could be;
And then as Mulga Bill let out one last despairing shriek
It made a leap of twenty feet into the Dean Man's Creek.


'Twas Mulga Bill, from Eaglehawk, that slowly swam ashore:
He said, "I've had some narrer shaves and lively rides before;
I've rode a wild bull round a yard to win a five-pound bet,
But this was the most awful ride that I've encountered yet.
I'll give that two-wheeled outlaw best; it's shaken all my nerve
To feel it whistle through the air and plunge and buck and swerve.
It's safe at rest in Dead Man's Creek, we'll leave it lying still;
A horse's back is good enough henceforth for Mulga Bill."