Training Log Archive: blairtrewinIn the 1 days ending Apr 16, 2019:
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Tuesday Apr 16, 2019 #
7 AM
Run 40:00 [3] 7.0 km (5:43 / km)
There's got to be something very 21st century about being woken up, when in one of the more remote places in the country, at 4am by a sound from my phone, which turned out to be a news alert about the Notre Dame fire (probably as well I didn't actually read it or I certainly wouldn't have got back to sleep).
Today's run was a novelty for more than its location. Forrest is a significant airport with two 1500-metre runways. Historically it was a refuelling stop in the days when planes didn't have the range to get across the Nullarbor, and still fills that role for light aircraft crossing Australia, but it's also big enough to be a viable emergency landing strip for anything up to 737s. (What would actually happen if a 737 did rock up is an open question; Forrest has no stairs to unload its passengers, and I suspect the fuel that gets brought in up the track on a road train every 3 months wouldn't be enough to refuel a 737, either). Presumably Airservices/CASA pay the airport a substantial retainer to be on standby as I can't see that it could possibly be a viable business otherwise.
The manager suggested I go for a run on the runways early in the morning (too early for any aircraft to put in an appearance). This seemed like a novelty worth taking up once (it would get pretty boring done regularly). The run was a bit sluggish but generally qualified as a fairly standard morning run. A little bit of right foot soreness (my standard outback driving overuse injury) wore off quickly; it's a bit worse tonight so will see how it feels tomorrow.
I didn't expect the drive out to be easy and it wasn't, although the first 5km were the worst of the lot (it wasn't just that I was getting tired and looking into the sun last night), and the last 40km into Eucla seemed a lot easier at the end than they did at the start. Car (and its tyres) held up fine. The remaining 280km of the day to Cocklebiddy seemed like the easiest thing we'd done in a long time - especially for me because I wasn't driving. (it was easier for Dad than it was last time he did it, in 1977, too - on that occasion we couldn't get accommodation at Madura and had to press on another 100km to Cocklebiddy at dusk, picking our way through the roos to do so).
Today's run was a novelty for more than its location. Forrest is a significant airport with two 1500-metre runways. Historically it was a refuelling stop in the days when planes didn't have the range to get across the Nullarbor, and still fills that role for light aircraft crossing Australia, but it's also big enough to be a viable emergency landing strip for anything up to 737s. (What would actually happen if a 737 did rock up is an open question; Forrest has no stairs to unload its passengers, and I suspect the fuel that gets brought in up the track on a road train every 3 months wouldn't be enough to refuel a 737, either). Presumably Airservices/CASA pay the airport a substantial retainer to be on standby as I can't see that it could possibly be a viable business otherwise.
The manager suggested I go for a run on the runways early in the morning (too early for any aircraft to put in an appearance). This seemed like a novelty worth taking up once (it would get pretty boring done regularly). The run was a bit sluggish but generally qualified as a fairly standard morning run. A little bit of right foot soreness (my standard outback driving overuse injury) wore off quickly; it's a bit worse tonight so will see how it feels tomorrow.
I didn't expect the drive out to be easy and it wasn't, although the first 5km were the worst of the lot (it wasn't just that I was getting tired and looking into the sun last night), and the last 40km into Eucla seemed a lot easier at the end than they did at the start. Car (and its tyres) held up fine. The remaining 280km of the day to Cocklebiddy seemed like the easiest thing we'd done in a long time - especially for me because I wasn't driving. (it was easier for Dad than it was last time he did it, in 1977, too - on that occasion we couldn't get accommodation at Madura and had to press on another 100km to Cocklebiddy at dusk, picking our way through the roos to do so).
C • Forrest 12