Fog. And I mean a real pea souper. The kind where you’re virtually riding by Braille. By feel.
So there we were, kicking off an early-morning run up to the top end of the NSW Hunter Valley and we were coming from the coast at Gloucester, aiming for a quick belt across the Barrington Tops to get down the other side to Moonan Flat and then start trekking north toward Nundle and then Tamworth.
It was all going so well, until we got right up on top of the Tops and a strange phenomenon of summertime weather hit us. The temperature plummeted, a light drizzle settled in as we got deep amongst the white gums, and then as we passed the wet weather gates to
