July 18: Daily Waters Defies Definition
I wasn’t sure what to expect out of the Daly Waters Pub. Having misread it on my map and thinking it was “Daily Waters,” I wondered if there was a Christian connection tied to the concept of daily bread. If the slew of discarded bras hanging above the cash registers were any indication, I was pretty far off the mark. The unique watering hole is chock full of character and defies any typical definition.
Pulling up in front of the town’s lone fuel pump yesterday afternoon I could hear festive music blaring out onto the long dirt covered street, tourists taking pictures and looking over historical memorabilia, children sipping on shaved ice drinks, and patrons relaxing with all kinds of adult beverages at tables under the trees.
Posted proudly on fencing in front of the pub’s main entrance is a sign proclaiming, “we’re a pub, not a roadhouse.” Designed as a center of activity for the surrounding area, the establishment offers daily happy hours, live music, camping, hotel rooms, a restaurant, a junk yard, and memorabilia from World War II.
In the past, women who took off their bras received a free beer. Although the complimentary beverage is no longer available, customers still use a staple gun to attach bras, underwear, hats, and t-shirts to the bar’s ceilings or walls. Apparently, some people even ask for their ashes to be spread there.
Tim Carter, the enterprise’s owner since 2017, was zipping around in a scooter with buffalo horns attached to the front and gave a half hour talk before the dinner service telling a large patio full of fascinated guests the story behind this iconic oasis.
The dinner itself was a “Beef and Barra” event, offering barbequed steak cooked to order and locally caught barramundi fish along with an all you can eat salad bar. I enjoyed eating my meal, chatting with other customers, listening to the music, and feeling the evening breeze on my face.
When you stop at a new place every night, you’re not quite sure what you will encounter. Did I think the Daly Waters was a roadhouse, pub, or small town? It’s hard to say, but I’d like to think of it as a great destination well worth the trip either way.
The ride south from there today was most notable for the strong crosswinds. Blowing mostly from the east I leaned hard to the left, focusing on staying in my lane, reminding myself to breathe, and trying to keep a steady grip on the bars. Since the landscape was relatively flat and arid without much tree cover, the gusts were able to build up speed.
I could feel my helmet being pulled up and sideways from the force of the wind and was grateful that this time I was wearing out a different side of my tires than before. Stopping in Elliott for gas, empty soda cans rattled around the parking lot while the wind whistled through the air and wild peacocks strutted around.
Arriving at the Barkly Homestead this afternoon, a fellow traveler said they had camped on the grounds three days waiting for the wind to abate. What a great day on the bike!
