Over a final hill on Day 20 and the massive Lake King basin was spread out below; a patchwork quilt of small salt pans and pink salt bush, with a causeway across the middle. Then “ping!”, another spoke broke. Always on the rear wheel side that needs a big spanner to repair. I’m getting better at roadside wheel truing though, and limped across the lake to the town. Trees filled with raucous baby lorikeets practising flying (and crash landing) during dinner. Girls working at the pub lent me a spanner and told me of a secret woodland camp spot.