Sitting here at Roma Street Station, I have made it thus far after a night of sitting in a carriage as it rumbled and creaked it's way from Grafton to Brisbane.
Sitting amidst the onion breathed, stale alcohol breathed, body odoured and whatever else odoured, whilst the sound effects of coughing, sneezing, moaning and groaning drowned out the noise of the rails; and with the back light of alternate mobile phone glow which resembled a strange and twisted kind of mini australis borealis giving the impression I was in some sort of demented disco, I couldn't help but reflect on the trip. OK, I don't train travel much, I'm tired, grumpy and in desperate need of a long black cup of serenity...I hope the trip north from here is better.
After pretty much the first two weeks of storms were endured and rolling into Grafton late on the Thursday evening, only to be swamped again, I made the call to head for home.
I didn't pull the pin that easy, I did at least wait for a while to see how the weather would pan out. On the Friday after arriving in the Northern Rivers town of South Grafton, the sun rose brightly and I was able to get out the wet tent to dry. I also got all my wet clothes that had been stashed away washed, and my sleeping gear hung out and well aired.
This was all sorted by lunch time and I brought everything in off the line, and just in time. The usual afternoon storm came in and lasted for much of the evening. Going by previous standards, they had been starting earlier and lasting longer.
I awoke on the Saturday morning to the sun shining with birds chirping once again, and thought it will all level out by the time I am ready to leave on Monday. And again, a repeat of the previous days that gave me an eery sense of dejavu. But, this time it started and didn't stop. I kept checking the weather as to it's intentions but it all seemed bleak. It was moving in.
That's OK, it's just for the weekend, let's just sit back and relax and not worry about it. The rain continued throughout the weekend, and I was far from chuffed when I awoke on Monday to see the same damp outlook. "What's one more day?" I thought.
I awoke on Tuesday morning and was up and at it. The sun was shining, not a cloud in the sky. I began rolling everything up and packing it into my panniers. The fresh supplies I had purchased over the weekend were stashed and I was almost ready to go. A coffee and a breakfast and a quick goodbye to my mother, then I would be pedalling my way to 3500 meters of bliss. Well...that didn't last long. I didn't even have time to get the bike off the back verandah, the skies were black and the deluge continued. What the ????
I was livid. I didn't mind another day yesterday, but not another day today. The rain continued, and continnued and continued. Come Wednesday morning with the skies still emptying it's disappointment down on me, I decided to call it. I struggled with the decision, I umm and erred and was so indecisive, and I hate that.
I wanted so much to head on my way up that mountain, but after almost the whole trip dodging storms, I was tired of it. By mid afternoon I called it. I decided enough was enough. I purchased my Bundaberg train ticket over the phone and my bother gave me a lift up to the South Grafton Station to purchase the first leg's ticket. That was it, it was done.
With the rain continuing well into the night, I was satisfied with my decision. That was until I awoke on Thursday morning to the sun's glare through the window. I got out of bed, looked out the window and was heart broken at what I saw. The tickets purchased, the money spent and now the sun decides to shine. It'll be right, it will start pouring in another hour or so. But it didn't.
Sitting and sulking like a five year old that didn't get their desert I was far from impessed. This was not fair, why? But in the end I started to think about what I had experienced so far on the trip. The scenery, the people and they all equate to wonderful memories already collected.
Well the sun continued to shine all day yesterday as well, but I had settled. My disappointment soon turned into excitement. Yes, excitement...I haven't seen my beautiful wife and three lovely daughters in three weeks. That my dear friends is something worth getting excited about. I now have a good reason to finish a trip, whether it be completed, a wash out, or time, I get to go home to a wonderful family which I love...
So even though the trip didn't go as planned, even though it remains unfinished, I still end up with a magnificent reward. Wonderful memories and experiences, and at the end of it all I get to home to my family.
So now I sit here at Roma Street Station desperately waiting for coffee and food. I've shaken off the odours of the early moring trip and have a ten hour wait ahead of me before I can board the train for Bundaberg. But I will get home eventually tonight.
Even though the trip didn't go as planned, I got out there and had a wonderful time. A fifty-four year old man who just decided to get on his bike and ride. Roughly nine hundred kilometers completed and having a ball pedalling them. The look on peoples' faces when you tell them what you are doing, and the chance to do it is just awesome.
Even though at present this Old Bum is on a train, or will be, and not on a bike doesn't mean it stops here...there's more to come whether I get through it all or not...it's not the destination, it's the adventure along the way.
Cheers guys, and as always, ride safe.
Friday 24 November 2017
Monday 20 November 2017
Riding The Rollercoasters
The rain from the previous evening continued for most of the night. I didn't get to listen to that Podcast after all, as I fell asleep before I could even reach for my phone. The couple of times throughout the night I did wake slightly and could hear the rain still steadily falling on the fly of the tent.
Now; ever since I have entered New South Wales I have been having issues with this bloody daylight savings. I grew up with it as a kid but most of my adult life has been spent in Queensland where, thank goodness, daylight savings doesn't exist. I just hope the extra hour of daylight doesn't fade the paint work on the Kona...lol.
The delemna seems to be that I awake and look at my Garmin watch and it is on Eastern Standard Time. I lay there thinking I have still plenty of time to get up and when I do and get going, I realise via my Garmin 810 and phone that I am on bloody Daylight Savings Time. It's a good thing that I am not in too much of a hurry...lol. Well this morning was no different.
I dragged my Old Bum out of bed and prepared to get going. The start wasn't good, wet matches meant 'NO COFFEE'. Just what I needed. Anyway Baryugil was just down the road, surely it would have a general store with a pie and a coffee. A banana and some Wheetbix breakfast biscuits was all that I had, along with a slurp or two of a Barocca.
I headed off with a kind of overcast day that had broken sunshine trying to break through. It was a humid morning and I noticed the temperature start to climb rather rapidly. The last few days had been well below 30 degrees but now it was sitting on 32 and not even mid morning.
I knew that I had a good one hundred kilomters to go so the plan was to fill up with a coffee and a water at the town of Baryugil, that'll get me through.
As I had never been down this way before I expected it would be a descent all the way to Grafton, a bit like the beginning of the previous day. I couldn't be more wrong and the road continued downwards, but not before it set it's path upwards first. A one hundred kilometer rollercoaster ride...phew!
Up and down, up and down I pedalled. The upward rises were short but sharp causing a break in any rythum that may have been gathered, many causing me to get off and walk. I think the fact that little dinner the night before, and minimal breakfast prior to the days ride had an effect as well, this is my story and I am sticking to it.
Coasting down one of the short hills I noticed a town's signage and thought, "You beauty". But it was only a small aborigianal settlement and there was no store to be seen. So onward I travelled.
Not far down the road was Baryugil...again I gathered some excitement thinking that a coffee and some food would be available. No, wrong again. Baryugil is just another small aboriginal settlement with no store. Feeling the worms bight I pulled off to the side of the road in some shade and dragged out the last of my meusli bars and Wheetbix biscuits along with some more Barocca.
By now I was starting to look at my water conservatively. After leaving Baryugil sips instead of gulps became the norm. With the day's temp still rising and well into the mid 30's this was going to be a marathon.
Up and down I continued and the hope of getting a coffee was no longer. It was about mid afternnon and the legs and stomach were feeling empty. I started considering finding somewhere to camp and callit quits for the day. But the lack of water, and no phone service changed my mind and I kept turning the pedals, turn after turn.
I did stop about 3:00 pm in a shady spot by the road. I was determined to not let this day turn into another like the second day of the trip. I sat, rested, had two biddons of Barocca and some salted crakers with peanut butter. Whilst it was a good, and I needed rest, it left with me with little water.
I was desperately trying to estimate how far Copmanhurst was, and try and work out how far it was before water. Well, I had no choice but to keep going as dry as it may get.
Ten kilometers north of Copmanhurst I saw a picnic area. I was excited to see a small water tank attached to the structure that contained picnic tables. I pulled in and was ecstatic. Not only was the water in the tank clean and cool, the scenery was magnificent. It was a particular lookout and it overlooked north west through a lot of the valleys I had travelled. Beautiful, shady with good flat areas under the protection of some Jacarandas made this the perfect camping spot. If only I was staying, I was on the promise of a good steak, a beer and a long hot shower. So I passed.
Rejuvinated by fresh water and a good shady rest I encroached the borders of Copmanhurst. The hills continued to rise and fall in perfect consistency, but the legs felt better although the stomach was growling louder than the exhaust brake on a prime-mover.
I pulled into a park for a quick rest and to ring my mother to let her know how far away I was. My mother is a bit hard at hearing and I was ringing during Family Fued...needless to say there was no connection at that point.
I left Copmanhurst around 4:30 pm and continued up the steep hill on the eastern side of town, then turned onto Rogan Bridge Rd for the final twenty eight kilometers. I no longer turned the corner and well, it happened all over again. A little thunder, a light sprinkle and then the showering. Where was all this water only an hour ago?
Growing webbed feet, gills and scales by now I just kept my head down and my feet turning the Deore cranks. The undulation had levelled out some to my delight and it was much easier going than before.
It had been some time since I had ridden down this road, and when I did it was in the opposite direction. Somewhat vague on the actual distance I just hoped at every bend that I would begin to see the signs of South Grafton, and it wasn't that long before I did. Crossing over the crest of a hill I spied the roof tops in the distance.
It wasn't long before I was on the cycle path heading for town, up around the corner and into my mother's yard. It didn't take much to quickly unpack the bike and have it all safely stashed away on the back verandah. A shower and then a steak the size of the Australian Capital Territory faded diminished the angst of the rollercoasters ridden throughout the day...
So now I am here waiting for the weather to change. Showers, rain and storms have been the norm since arriving here in Grafton. I have been biding my time waiting to leave and continue up the mountain, a reason for coming this far by bike.
But I am rapidly runnning out of time before I need to return to Bundaberg. My daughter's birthday, some commitments and appointments. So I will see what happens over the next day or two but unfortunately the weather appears to be moving in on me. It is fast approaching the point for me to make the call, to pull the covers and call play due to rain. The very real possibilty of a train trip back to Bundaberg is fast becoming a reality as I sit here writing.
In the end the road will still be there, the scenery and the hills will remain and wait for me for another time...
Cheers guys, and as alwys, ride safe.
Now; ever since I have entered New South Wales I have been having issues with this bloody daylight savings. I grew up with it as a kid but most of my adult life has been spent in Queensland where, thank goodness, daylight savings doesn't exist. I just hope the extra hour of daylight doesn't fade the paint work on the Kona...lol.
The delemna seems to be that I awake and look at my Garmin watch and it is on Eastern Standard Time. I lay there thinking I have still plenty of time to get up and when I do and get going, I realise via my Garmin 810 and phone that I am on bloody Daylight Savings Time. It's a good thing that I am not in too much of a hurry...lol. Well this morning was no different.
I dragged my Old Bum out of bed and prepared to get going. The start wasn't good, wet matches meant 'NO COFFEE'. Just what I needed. Anyway Baryugil was just down the road, surely it would have a general store with a pie and a coffee. A banana and some Wheetbix breakfast biscuits was all that I had, along with a slurp or two of a Barocca.
I headed off with a kind of overcast day that had broken sunshine trying to break through. It was a humid morning and I noticed the temperature start to climb rather rapidly. The last few days had been well below 30 degrees but now it was sitting on 32 and not even mid morning.
I knew that I had a good one hundred kilomters to go so the plan was to fill up with a coffee and a water at the town of Baryugil, that'll get me through.
As I had never been down this way before I expected it would be a descent all the way to Grafton, a bit like the beginning of the previous day. I couldn't be more wrong and the road continued downwards, but not before it set it's path upwards first. A one hundred kilometer rollercoaster ride...phew!
Up and down, up and down I pedalled. The upward rises were short but sharp causing a break in any rythum that may have been gathered, many causing me to get off and walk. I think the fact that little dinner the night before, and minimal breakfast prior to the days ride had an effect as well, this is my story and I am sticking to it.
Coasting down one of the short hills I noticed a town's signage and thought, "You beauty". But it was only a small aborigianal settlement and there was no store to be seen. So onward I travelled.
Not far down the road was Baryugil...again I gathered some excitement thinking that a coffee and some food would be available. No, wrong again. Baryugil is just another small aboriginal settlement with no store. Feeling the worms bight I pulled off to the side of the road in some shade and dragged out the last of my meusli bars and Wheetbix biscuits along with some more Barocca.
By now I was starting to look at my water conservatively. After leaving Baryugil sips instead of gulps became the norm. With the day's temp still rising and well into the mid 30's this was going to be a marathon.
Up and down I continued and the hope of getting a coffee was no longer. It was about mid afternnon and the legs and stomach were feeling empty. I started considering finding somewhere to camp and callit quits for the day. But the lack of water, and no phone service changed my mind and I kept turning the pedals, turn after turn.
I did stop about 3:00 pm in a shady spot by the road. I was determined to not let this day turn into another like the second day of the trip. I sat, rested, had two biddons of Barocca and some salted crakers with peanut butter. Whilst it was a good, and I needed rest, it left with me with little water.
I was desperately trying to estimate how far Copmanhurst was, and try and work out how far it was before water. Well, I had no choice but to keep going as dry as it may get.
Ten kilometers north of Copmanhurst I saw a picnic area. I was excited to see a small water tank attached to the structure that contained picnic tables. I pulled in and was ecstatic. Not only was the water in the tank clean and cool, the scenery was magnificent. It was a particular lookout and it overlooked north west through a lot of the valleys I had travelled. Beautiful, shady with good flat areas under the protection of some Jacarandas made this the perfect camping spot. If only I was staying, I was on the promise of a good steak, a beer and a long hot shower. So I passed.
Rejuvinated by fresh water and a good shady rest I encroached the borders of Copmanhurst. The hills continued to rise and fall in perfect consistency, but the legs felt better although the stomach was growling louder than the exhaust brake on a prime-mover.
I pulled into a park for a quick rest and to ring my mother to let her know how far away I was. My mother is a bit hard at hearing and I was ringing during Family Fued...needless to say there was no connection at that point.
I left Copmanhurst around 4:30 pm and continued up the steep hill on the eastern side of town, then turned onto Rogan Bridge Rd for the final twenty eight kilometers. I no longer turned the corner and well, it happened all over again. A little thunder, a light sprinkle and then the showering. Where was all this water only an hour ago?
Growing webbed feet, gills and scales by now I just kept my head down and my feet turning the Deore cranks. The undulation had levelled out some to my delight and it was much easier going than before.
It had been some time since I had ridden down this road, and when I did it was in the opposite direction. Somewhat vague on the actual distance I just hoped at every bend that I would begin to see the signs of South Grafton, and it wasn't that long before I did. Crossing over the crest of a hill I spied the roof tops in the distance.
It wasn't long before I was on the cycle path heading for town, up around the corner and into my mother's yard. It didn't take much to quickly unpack the bike and have it all safely stashed away on the back verandah. A shower and then a steak the size of the Australian Capital Territory faded diminished the angst of the rollercoasters ridden throughout the day...
So now I am here waiting for the weather to change. Showers, rain and storms have been the norm since arriving here in Grafton. I have been biding my time waiting to leave and continue up the mountain, a reason for coming this far by bike.
But I am rapidly runnning out of time before I need to return to Bundaberg. My daughter's birthday, some commitments and appointments. So I will see what happens over the next day or two but unfortunately the weather appears to be moving in on me. It is fast approaching the point for me to make the call, to pull the covers and call play due to rain. The very real possibilty of a train trip back to Bundaberg is fast becoming a reality as I sit here writing.
In the end the road will still be there, the scenery and the hills will remain and wait for me for another time...
Cheers guys, and as alwys, ride safe.
Sunday 19 November 2017
Over The Hills And Far Away.
As I sit here in South Grafton waiting for the weather to change for the better yet again, I can't help thinking what an amzing trip this has been thus far. As I write, there it goes again, more rain. It has been like this for pretty much the whole trip, with the exception of a few days from Brisbane to Woodenbong, and it seems to be setting. But you get that!
The ride out of Woodenbong was nothing short of spectcular. The undulating hills and vibrant green pastures made the perfect backdrop to this awesome pedalfest.
Of course as you leave the small township of Woodenbong the only direction iss up. I had planned to stay at Tooloom Falls, but as described in the last blog I suffered a bad case of hamburgeritis and called it quits where I was. It was a good thing though beause after talking to one of the travelling greys (grey nomad) at the caravan park, Tooloom Falls had a decent amount of water across the causeway. It would have been difficult to get in, and especially out the other side. It is a shame though, I did want to see the falls and apparently they were in full flow.
After a little bit of road works I was well on my way for an area I had never been through. There is always something great about seeing an area for the first time, and being on a bike is just the icing on the cake.
After about an hour I started the climb. The climb is what I call the ride up into Yabbra State Forest. Now talk about spectacular, wow. The ride up was awesome, even though steep in parts it was more than rideable on the loaded bike. But once at the top, it was breathtaking. Tall gums reached high into the sky and blocked the sun's light completely from reaching the ground. I felt like an ant as I pedalled among the bases of these giants of time. I was so taken in by their impressiveness that I almost ran off the road...a couple of times.
I stopped for about half an hour at a rest stop just to take it in. One tree had been struck by lightening and no longer had a crown of branches at it's top. Instead a termite mound or other insect nest had taken shape. It resembled a street lamp out of the 1960's show Land Of The Giants.
After the rest stop it was pretty much down hill with only the odd exception. I am so glad I was heading south. Long downhill runs made for a day just cruising, spending more time brakng rather than pedalling. Rough patches on the road were soaked up by the Kona's sturdiness and surefootedness.
The road was also lonely, with hardly a sole travelling on it. Those that did were friendly and courteous and ackowledged me with toot, a wave and a smile. Maybe the smile was more a case of, "Look at this crazy bugger".
The geography continued on a downhill slope until I eventually reached the Bruxner Hwy. The Bruxner is a stretch of highway that runs between Lismore on the NSW Northern Rivers coast to the cental northern NSW town of Goondiwindi, then divides into The Bardon and Cunninghams Hwys.
I only had a short distance to travel on the Bruxner, and with no shoulder I was glad. I was able to stop and top up on water at a rest area on the intersection.
Back onto the Clarence Way it was now dirt...and rough. Even though earlier segmants had been rough, the now dirt section I was on made the Paris to Roubaix look like a walk in the park. Sections of it reminded me of my earlier trek down the Cololoola Way. Some sections had been freshly graded as I travelled downward, but they were still rough in the middle and soft on the edges. I found myself tacking across the surface looking for a decent surface like a sailboat across the water looking for a good breeze.
By now the land had levelled out. By levelled out I mean it was no longer a reasonably consistant downhill run. It was undulating and the downhills equalled the uphills. Actually, I think the uphills were winning.
I wanted to knock out one hundred kilometers for the day. Because I had stopped at Woodenbong instead of Tooloom Falls I was sixteen kilometers behind the eight-ball. But I knew I had well over one hundred to pedal out the following day as well. So my plan was simply, do more today equals doing less tomorrow.
It was now around 4:30 pm DST and I had planned to just keep riding until almost dark and camp off the side of the road. But the sky grew dark and the breeze that was, gave way to a very eery stillness. Even the birds had quietned. I saw the clouds building up to the west of me and thought to myself, "This doesn't look good", although hopeful that it would bypass me somehow. There was nothing I could do now. There were no shelters to run and hide in, I just had to keep riding and hope for the best.
Not much longer and a distant deep rumbling began, yes, thunder. I've said before that thunder doesn't worry me, and it doesn't. But what can come with it does! Not only was the sky very dark, it was 'green' dark and this can mean hail. I was also hitting some open plateaus and where there is thunder there is often lightning.
The wind started to build and the rain began, lightly at first, the odd big drop or two on the head. It gradually built up in intensity and it wasn't long before I was soaked through. Well and truly wet there was nothing I could do now.
Continuing on and the dark clouds giving the appearence of near night fall I began looking for a camp site. There were no designated free camps along here so stealth camping was on the cards. I was looking for a patch that was unfenced as I don't like camping on private property.
Around 6:30 pm I found a patch of grass that was off the road and reasonably out of sight, although hardly a car was seen. It was near a creek, scenic and up on a flattened mound that would keep me out of any run off. The storm had broken by now so it was peerfect timing.
I pulled over and got the tent set up. I leaned the bike up against a gate and covered it with a small tarpolin that I carry. After setting up, I got changed into some dry clothes, got my chair out and put the billy on to sit back and relax before dinner as the sun finally set. I no longer sat down, put the teabag in the cup and lit the stove and a few drops started again. "It'll pass", I thought and stayed put. BUT, it began to get heavier and it wasn't long before I was huddled in the tent with the stove just outside the tent boiling the billy.
I made my cuppa and sat in my little home away from home and waited for the rain to stop. Well, I waited and I waited and I waited. Nope...no reprieve tonight by the looks of it. I sat there with my little cooler bag full of salad stuff, nibbling on tomatoes, cucumber and carrots sipping my cuppa. That was dinner and with the rain set in it was time to enjoy the calming sound of it on the fly and settle in for the night. I laid back and thought I'd listen to a podcast, and that was as far as I got, thinking about listening to a.....
Cheers guys, and as always, ride safe.
The ride out of Woodenbong was nothing short of spectcular. The undulating hills and vibrant green pastures made the perfect backdrop to this awesome pedalfest.
Of course as you leave the small township of Woodenbong the only direction iss up. I had planned to stay at Tooloom Falls, but as described in the last blog I suffered a bad case of hamburgeritis and called it quits where I was. It was a good thing though beause after talking to one of the travelling greys (grey nomad) at the caravan park, Tooloom Falls had a decent amount of water across the causeway. It would have been difficult to get in, and especially out the other side. It is a shame though, I did want to see the falls and apparently they were in full flow.
After a little bit of road works I was well on my way for an area I had never been through. There is always something great about seeing an area for the first time, and being on a bike is just the icing on the cake.
After about an hour I started the climb. The climb is what I call the ride up into Yabbra State Forest. Now talk about spectacular, wow. The ride up was awesome, even though steep in parts it was more than rideable on the loaded bike. But once at the top, it was breathtaking. Tall gums reached high into the sky and blocked the sun's light completely from reaching the ground. I felt like an ant as I pedalled among the bases of these giants of time. I was so taken in by their impressiveness that I almost ran off the road...a couple of times.
I stopped for about half an hour at a rest stop just to take it in. One tree had been struck by lightening and no longer had a crown of branches at it's top. Instead a termite mound or other insect nest had taken shape. It resembled a street lamp out of the 1960's show Land Of The Giants.
After the rest stop it was pretty much down hill with only the odd exception. I am so glad I was heading south. Long downhill runs made for a day just cruising, spending more time brakng rather than pedalling. Rough patches on the road were soaked up by the Kona's sturdiness and surefootedness.
The road was also lonely, with hardly a sole travelling on it. Those that did were friendly and courteous and ackowledged me with toot, a wave and a smile. Maybe the smile was more a case of, "Look at this crazy bugger".
The geography continued on a downhill slope until I eventually reached the Bruxner Hwy. The Bruxner is a stretch of highway that runs between Lismore on the NSW Northern Rivers coast to the cental northern NSW town of Goondiwindi, then divides into The Bardon and Cunninghams Hwys.
I only had a short distance to travel on the Bruxner, and with no shoulder I was glad. I was able to stop and top up on water at a rest area on the intersection.
Back onto the Clarence Way it was now dirt...and rough. Even though earlier segmants had been rough, the now dirt section I was on made the Paris to Roubaix look like a walk in the park. Sections of it reminded me of my earlier trek down the Cololoola Way. Some sections had been freshly graded as I travelled downward, but they were still rough in the middle and soft on the edges. I found myself tacking across the surface looking for a decent surface like a sailboat across the water looking for a good breeze.
By now the land had levelled out. By levelled out I mean it was no longer a reasonably consistant downhill run. It was undulating and the downhills equalled the uphills. Actually, I think the uphills were winning.
I wanted to knock out one hundred kilometers for the day. Because I had stopped at Woodenbong instead of Tooloom Falls I was sixteen kilometers behind the eight-ball. But I knew I had well over one hundred to pedal out the following day as well. So my plan was simply, do more today equals doing less tomorrow.
It was now around 4:30 pm DST and I had planned to just keep riding until almost dark and camp off the side of the road. But the sky grew dark and the breeze that was, gave way to a very eery stillness. Even the birds had quietned. I saw the clouds building up to the west of me and thought to myself, "This doesn't look good", although hopeful that it would bypass me somehow. There was nothing I could do now. There were no shelters to run and hide in, I just had to keep riding and hope for the best.
Not much longer and a distant deep rumbling began, yes, thunder. I've said before that thunder doesn't worry me, and it doesn't. But what can come with it does! Not only was the sky very dark, it was 'green' dark and this can mean hail. I was also hitting some open plateaus and where there is thunder there is often lightning.
The wind started to build and the rain began, lightly at first, the odd big drop or two on the head. It gradually built up in intensity and it wasn't long before I was soaked through. Well and truly wet there was nothing I could do now.
Continuing on and the dark clouds giving the appearence of near night fall I began looking for a camp site. There were no designated free camps along here so stealth camping was on the cards. I was looking for a patch that was unfenced as I don't like camping on private property.
Around 6:30 pm I found a patch of grass that was off the road and reasonably out of sight, although hardly a car was seen. It was near a creek, scenic and up on a flattened mound that would keep me out of any run off. The storm had broken by now so it was peerfect timing.
I pulled over and got the tent set up. I leaned the bike up against a gate and covered it with a small tarpolin that I carry. After setting up, I got changed into some dry clothes, got my chair out and put the billy on to sit back and relax before dinner as the sun finally set. I no longer sat down, put the teabag in the cup and lit the stove and a few drops started again. "It'll pass", I thought and stayed put. BUT, it began to get heavier and it wasn't long before I was huddled in the tent with the stove just outside the tent boiling the billy.
I made my cuppa and sat in my little home away from home and waited for the rain to stop. Well, I waited and I waited and I waited. Nope...no reprieve tonight by the looks of it. I sat there with my little cooler bag full of salad stuff, nibbling on tomatoes, cucumber and carrots sipping my cuppa. That was dinner and with the rain set in it was time to enjoy the calming sound of it on the fly and settle in for the night. I laid back and thought I'd listen to a podcast, and that was as far as I got, thinking about listening to a.....
Cheers guys, and as always, ride safe.
Tuesday 14 November 2017
We Can't Sit Idle.
After lulling around over the weekend, eating and drinking several friends out of house and home. It was, just like a plaque of locusts, time to move on, and move on I did.
Getting away from Brisbane's northern suburbs I planned a route that would take me via Bardon, Centenary, out through Forest Lakes and bring me out at the back of Browns Plains.
Hardly a road was pedalled on after I left Enoggera with the exception of a few back streets. Down through Ithica Creek Bikeway, up through Bardon and down onto the Centenary Bikeway. After here I followed footpaths and bikeways through Forest Lakes and pretty much all the way to Browns Plains, except one small section along Johnsons Rd until I could jump onto the path way.
Most of the way to Jimboomba was service road. Then from Jimboomba to Beaudesert was back roads and acreage suburbs, and some bloody big hills.
I knew I had atleast one hundred and thirteen kilometers to ride this day, so at no stage was there ever going to be a sprint session. It was all steady going all the way, with the times I was on the road motorists were extremely accommodating. There was one hero in a semi going the opposite way that called out obsenities. But he was going the other way, and it's easy to be a hero when you're going the opposite direction. Beside that one, all else was good.
There isn't much to report passing through Brisbane. I didn't get too caught up in the scenery as I was way to focused on following my navigation. But once I began out on The Mt Lindsay Hwy little suburban boxes gave way to pasture land, mountains and valleys.
I hit Jimboomba at around lunch time, and after buying a small amount of groceries just prior at...ahhh...ummm...ahhh, I thought I'd pull into the park and have a well earned coffee and a couple of salmon wraps, yes...tinned salmon.
I must've procastinated for around an hour before moving off, I still had a ways to go. After leaving I headed out a back way. My navigtion was going to take me off the highway, a good thing, and bring me right round to well south of Beaudesert. After the first section of back roads I opted to ride the last few kilometers along the main road into Beaudesert. I wanted to fill up on water as I didn't know what was up ahead. I'm glad I did as it was impossible to get down to the creek where I ended up camping.
After Beaudesert I launched it in Rathdoowney's direction. My planned stop for the night was Langdon Reserve at Tambrookum Creek. So out I pedalled, and I pedalled, and I pedalled...was this campsite ever going to appear.
Don't you hate that, you have a planned route, a planned stop and the amount of kilometers you are travelling. But somehow at the end of the day the campsite keeps moving with you.
The road was quite busy as well, with little to no shoulder. I'd say it was just the normal afternoon home time gabble, and I was caught in it. Everyone was pretty good so there are no complaints.
The scenery was changing, from little acerages to sprawling pasture lands, grazing properties and mountains, big mountains. Was I really going to attempt to pedal a loaded touring bike up them?
After several stops I eventually arrived at the place where I wanted to be, home sweet home...well for the night anyway. There was an older couple, grey nomads, camped there as well so I shuffled across to say a quick hello. Then it was time to set up camp and get some dinner on. The tent was up, a warm wash was had, a hot cup of tea was mellowing out the day (yes tea, I like it at the end of a hard day) and it wasn't long before the pasta was simmering in a camp made sauce that tasted sooo good.
It wasn't a late night, or atleast I thought it wasn't. The gentleman that was camping there came across earlier to invite me over for a cuppa and to sit by the fire. I had intentions of doing it, but by the time I finished my dinner and cleaned up I turned around and all the lights were out. Well I obliged and it wasn't long before it was lights out for me as well.
I tossed and turned quite a bit throughout the night. I've been sleping so well since I have been away, in tent, motels and friends places. This night was different. There was a bit of traffic and my matress was pumped a little too hard, plus it was kind of chilly, but it wasn't so to speak. I don't know...
Any way morning eventually came and it was difficult to get up. But get up I did. The billy was on, and breakfast was being devoured. After the one hundred and fifteen kilometer stretch the previous day I only had around sixty eight to do today. The good news was I only had one hill, the bad news, the hill was around forty four kilometers long.
I headed off around 8:30 am and then started the progresive climb up through Rathdowney to the summit of the Mt Lindsay Hwy. It wasn't really that bad, a gradual 1 - 3 % kept me spinning but it wasn't tiring. After all, the plan for the day was 'head down, bum up and spin like a phsycotic washing machine'.
The first twenty kilometers passed and the scenery became more breathtaking with every corner. The hill didn't seem that bad and considering that I had driven trucks up and down this stretch of road, I was thinking maybe they had a done a lot of work. But surely, it takes a lot of work to flatten out a hill.
Well it appeared it was just the oldtimers setting in and it wasn't long before I spied the notification. Urgh! It was time time to hit plan A, shit was about to get real. Most of the trip up was sitting at about 67 R.P.M. I didn't over do it, I just took my time. There were a couple of pinches that I decided to dismount and walk, but this was more for a stretch rather than tiredness.
I stopped plenty of times and I was in no rush, even though time was ticking away. I was hoping to be at the top around 12:30 pm, but ah well.
I reached the border around 1:00 pm, took some happy snaps and at 1195 mtrs I thought I was pretty much near the top. Well pretty much wrong there, wsn't I? It had been some years since being up this way and I forgot about the approxmate seven kilometer hike from the border to the Summerland Way Intersection.
Anyway I eventually made it, there was nothing left in the tank, the legs and taint were burning like and old Jonny Cash song and I was so glad to see the down hill run into Woodenbong. The best part of five kilometers without turning a pedal, heaven.
I needed a break, and I needed it bad. So I rolled into a servo that I knew sold food and the works burger was so huge that it will take me a week to digest. After eating, and a couple of drinks I knew I had sixteen kilometers to go, but in the end decided against it. I am now coserly set up in Woodenbong Caravan Park. Five dollars for a site with a hot shower, a short walk to the pub and a couple of beers. That was much more tempting than another sixteen kilometers of climbing. Can you blame me?
So as I said, I'm here in Woodenbong, the night air is chilling and the plan for some mexican style bean burritos will soon be happening. A couple more beers and I think I'll need my winter woolies for the night, damn, I dind't bring them...
Cheers guys, and as always, ride safe.
Fn... I will edit this post and add photos in a couple of days. I have very limited data service where I am. It will not allow me to upload photos...
Getting away from Brisbane's northern suburbs I planned a route that would take me via Bardon, Centenary, out through Forest Lakes and bring me out at the back of Browns Plains.
Hardly a road was pedalled on after I left Enoggera with the exception of a few back streets. Down through Ithica Creek Bikeway, up through Bardon and down onto the Centenary Bikeway. After here I followed footpaths and bikeways through Forest Lakes and pretty much all the way to Browns Plains, except one small section along Johnsons Rd until I could jump onto the path way.
Most of the way to Jimboomba was service road. Then from Jimboomba to Beaudesert was back roads and acreage suburbs, and some bloody big hills.
I knew I had atleast one hundred and thirteen kilometers to ride this day, so at no stage was there ever going to be a sprint session. It was all steady going all the way, with the times I was on the road motorists were extremely accommodating. There was one hero in a semi going the opposite way that called out obsenities. But he was going the other way, and it's easy to be a hero when you're going the opposite direction. Beside that one, all else was good.
There isn't much to report passing through Brisbane. I didn't get too caught up in the scenery as I was way to focused on following my navigation. But once I began out on The Mt Lindsay Hwy little suburban boxes gave way to pasture land, mountains and valleys.
I hit Jimboomba at around lunch time, and after buying a small amount of groceries just prior at...ahhh...ummm...ahhh, I thought I'd pull into the park and have a well earned coffee and a couple of salmon wraps, yes...tinned salmon.
I must've procastinated for around an hour before moving off, I still had a ways to go. After leaving I headed out a back way. My navigtion was going to take me off the highway, a good thing, and bring me right round to well south of Beaudesert. After the first section of back roads I opted to ride the last few kilometers along the main road into Beaudesert. I wanted to fill up on water as I didn't know what was up ahead. I'm glad I did as it was impossible to get down to the creek where I ended up camping.
After Beaudesert I launched it in Rathdoowney's direction. My planned stop for the night was Langdon Reserve at Tambrookum Creek. So out I pedalled, and I pedalled, and I pedalled...was this campsite ever going to appear.
Don't you hate that, you have a planned route, a planned stop and the amount of kilometers you are travelling. But somehow at the end of the day the campsite keeps moving with you.
The road was quite busy as well, with little to no shoulder. I'd say it was just the normal afternoon home time gabble, and I was caught in it. Everyone was pretty good so there are no complaints.
The scenery was changing, from little acerages to sprawling pasture lands, grazing properties and mountains, big mountains. Was I really going to attempt to pedal a loaded touring bike up them?
After several stops I eventually arrived at the place where I wanted to be, home sweet home...well for the night anyway. There was an older couple, grey nomads, camped there as well so I shuffled across to say a quick hello. Then it was time to set up camp and get some dinner on. The tent was up, a warm wash was had, a hot cup of tea was mellowing out the day (yes tea, I like it at the end of a hard day) and it wasn't long before the pasta was simmering in a camp made sauce that tasted sooo good.
It wasn't a late night, or atleast I thought it wasn't. The gentleman that was camping there came across earlier to invite me over for a cuppa and to sit by the fire. I had intentions of doing it, but by the time I finished my dinner and cleaned up I turned around and all the lights were out. Well I obliged and it wasn't long before it was lights out for me as well.
I tossed and turned quite a bit throughout the night. I've been sleping so well since I have been away, in tent, motels and friends places. This night was different. There was a bit of traffic and my matress was pumped a little too hard, plus it was kind of chilly, but it wasn't so to speak. I don't know...
Any way morning eventually came and it was difficult to get up. But get up I did. The billy was on, and breakfast was being devoured. After the one hundred and fifteen kilometer stretch the previous day I only had around sixty eight to do today. The good news was I only had one hill, the bad news, the hill was around forty four kilometers long.
I headed off around 8:30 am and then started the progresive climb up through Rathdowney to the summit of the Mt Lindsay Hwy. It wasn't really that bad, a gradual 1 - 3 % kept me spinning but it wasn't tiring. After all, the plan for the day was 'head down, bum up and spin like a phsycotic washing machine'.
The first twenty kilometers passed and the scenery became more breathtaking with every corner. The hill didn't seem that bad and considering that I had driven trucks up and down this stretch of road, I was thinking maybe they had a done a lot of work. But surely, it takes a lot of work to flatten out a hill.
Well it appeared it was just the oldtimers setting in and it wasn't long before I spied the notification. Urgh! It was time time to hit plan A, shit was about to get real. Most of the trip up was sitting at about 67 R.P.M. I didn't over do it, I just took my time. There were a couple of pinches that I decided to dismount and walk, but this was more for a stretch rather than tiredness.
I stopped plenty of times and I was in no rush, even though time was ticking away. I was hoping to be at the top around 12:30 pm, but ah well.
I reached the border around 1:00 pm, took some happy snaps and at 1195 mtrs I thought I was pretty much near the top. Well pretty much wrong there, wsn't I? It had been some years since being up this way and I forgot about the approxmate seven kilometer hike from the border to the Summerland Way Intersection.
Anyway I eventually made it, there was nothing left in the tank, the legs and taint were burning like and old Jonny Cash song and I was so glad to see the down hill run into Woodenbong. The best part of five kilometers without turning a pedal, heaven.
I needed a break, and I needed it bad. So I rolled into a servo that I knew sold food and the works burger was so huge that it will take me a week to digest. After eating, and a couple of drinks I knew I had sixteen kilometers to go, but in the end decided against it. I am now coserly set up in Woodenbong Caravan Park. Five dollars for a site with a hot shower, a short walk to the pub and a couple of beers. That was much more tempting than another sixteen kilometers of climbing. Can you blame me?
So as I said, I'm here in Woodenbong, the night air is chilling and the plan for some mexican style bean burritos will soon be happening. A couple more beers and I think I'll need my winter woolies for the night, damn, I dind't bring them...
Cheers guys, and as always, ride safe.
Fn... I will edit this post and add photos in a couple of days. I have very limited data service where I am. It will not allow me to upload photos...
Saturday 11 November 2017
Gotta Love Cycling?
When I woke to the glare of stiffled light coming through the sliding glass door all I coud see was rain and wind. There was no way I was hurrying out into that. I didn't want to stay another night either so I toddled around making coffee after coffee and trying to make breakfast. I was planning on cooking some spam and eggs as a day starter on the verandah, but that was out of the question, except of course I preferred my eggs extra runny. But I chose exploded.
I took time to video a quick vlog and check social media and the clouds eventually ran dry and I was able to leave. This leg was to Glenview so I had already saved myself thirty kilometers from the day before.
I headed out of town, on what was turning out to be a cracker of a day. Even though overcast, breaks of blue shone through and the wind kept things cool. Pretty much like the morning before, but no rain today.
I cycled down McKinnon Dr towards Tewantin and as the wind strength lightened, I was able to make good headway. I stopped at Tewantin for a quick rest and map check and an elderly gentleman cycled up and we started to chat. He told me of his touring days and some of the places he had been. But now he was to old for that stuff...lol. He was content at 88 years old to just cycle around town on an old Giant road bike that wasn't far his junior. I love meeting people like this, and what was to be a quick stop turned out to be a little longer.
We parted ways and I continued for Noosa, then down the David Low Way along the coast. I got to Collum just on lunch so stopped for another rest and some fish and chips. After leaving here I climbed to the topped of the hill heading south out of Coolum, and bloody hell. The wind almost blew me in reverse. It was really starting to rip now, and it persisted all the way down the rest of David Low Way, through Maroochydore, Mooloolaba and down Nicklin Way.
It appeared the further south I got, the stronger the wind got and the legs were really feeling it. Too higher gear and I was pushing to almost a dead stop. Too lower gear and I spun to an almost stop. I couldn't win a bloody trick.
I continued down to Kawana and made the decision to can the rest of the day. I pedalled to Currumundi and that's where I called it quits.
I got a good night's rest and headed off the next morning for Pine Rivers on Brisbane's north side. I got away early and travelled the first twenty kilometers smoothly and reasonably quickly. I stopped at Landsborough for a coffee and a feed of bacon and eggs at a small cafe' just opposite the railway station.
Here I made contact with Coach Jeff who I would be staying with that night. Coach Jeff is a guy that has shown some interst in my escapades, contacted me via my YouTube channel and has had me on his Podcast Show a couple of times, The Cycling Podcast.
After a stomach full I headed south for the big smoke, taking as many back roads as I could. Jeff, along with another guy I know Grahame, told me about a dirt pathway that ran along Steve Irwin Way to Beerwah. Do you think I found it? Not a chance. So I opted for Old Landsborough Rd which had a pathway all the way along to where I wanted to change direction.
From Beerwah I followed Old Gymie Rd all the way to Caboolture, taking in the beautiful sights of Glasshouse and Beerway Mountains. It was a quiet road, narrow, with patient and courteous motorists. The sealed section bends around to join onto another road and follows into Glasshouse. But I didn't want sealed, and I didn't want to end up on Steve Irwin Way (Landsborough Rd), so my obvious choice was to go straight ahead and stay on Old Gympie Rd and hit the dirt.
I thought Cooloola way was rough...lol. That was a four laned highway compared to this, and a little down the track hit the dirt was what I did. Well actually it was sand. All the way down this section were deep pockets of soft sand that managed to hobble me to a stop a couple of times. Well third time lucky they say, for the sand anyway. The front wheel went one way, the rear another. The bike stopped dead in it's tracks and as I struggled to get my foot unclipped in time, onto the side I went. My feet came of the pedals simultaneously, I tucked and rolled and stuck the landing back onto my feet with all the grace and charm of a gold medal gymnist. Brushing off the sand with laughter I continued and met up with a more compatable road surface, gravel then back onto bitumen.
It wasn't long before I was in Caboolture and making contact with The Coach once again. He met up with me on Old Bay Rd at Burpengary, then led me back to his place. A good shower, a snooze, a great feed with a few beers, along with fantastic company and tremendous hospitality was all in a night's fun. It was an absolute ball tearer to catch up with him, and his beautiful wife, in person.
The eyelids got heavy, then the sun rose again, and it was time to get going to my next destination, the Northern Suburbs of Brisbane where I am now. The Coach was coming for a ride with me and decided to lead me out part of the way to where I was going. A word of warning, if The Coach says to you, "I'll take you a flattish way" run...and run far. It wont be much point running for the hills because that's where he's planning on taking you...lol.
But seriously, It was awesome to catch up with him. I made my way to my current destination and am staying with some dear friends of Sharon and I who we have known for many years. They have graciously made their home open to me and I sit here now blogging.
A couple of beers and wines last night, a trip to the markets this morning and just a little time to chill before heading south tomorrow. The bike had a good clean and lube around the drive train this morining and an ample intake of coffee has been eloquently sufficient.
So today I timidly prepare for tomorrow's early departure and approxiamte one hundred and thirteen kilometer leg down through Beaudesert. I also start the climb up through the back of the scenic rim, across the New South Wales border and into Woodenbong over the next couple of days. There will be no emergncy accomodation, no running from the storms to the nearest motel. I will be somewhat isolated and self-sufficient until I drop down thr Copmanhurst and into South Grafton.
Cheers guys, and as always, ride safe.
It' All Going To Be Fine, Right?
Waking up after a good night's sleep during the previous night's fiasco was pretty damn good. Although it had appeared that I had suffered some shoulder and neck strain from the earlier day's riding. Because of the heat I was uncomfortable and not relaxed at all, I guess just the pressure caused some strain???
The first thing I did when I awoke was to check the weather. If it was going to continue I was just going to have a day in bed...lol. But all was good on the western front and up I shot, had the coffee hot in no time flat and proceeded to pack and load the bike.
The day was overcast and cool but as I was leaving Tin Can Bay a few spots appeared on my glasses. No biggy, all gone in a minute or two. So I continued out through Cooloola Cove and headed for Rainbow Beach Road where I would connect onto Cooloola Way down through The Great Sandy National Park.
My plan was simple, a short fifty-five kilometer day and a good camp out at Harry's Hut, a place I haven't been to in years. But it sounded too simple to be true. I no longer arrived at Rainbow beach Road and the spots came back, only heavier. It wasn't long down the road before I had pulled over donned the rain gear as the heavens opened up. It was only 9:00 am, great.
I wasn't turning back now so progressed up the goat track slipping, sliding and skating my way round obstacles like fallen trees, washouts, rocks and the puddles that pooled to make dams across the road. Well at least I would have plenty of water...just open mouth and swallow.
It did ease off and eventually stop and the dat fined up nicely as I made my through the forests, mountain and some absolutely awesome scenery.
It was not that long before I had arrived at the turnoff to the campsite after traversing the hills and rolling casually down the other side. Ten kilometers to go, the day still reasonably early and all was good...well.
There were a couple of rangers at the turnoff with cameras and I thought they were just out there checking on things after the previous night's storm. It turned out they were there for that, but also to keep the campsite's access road closed due to carnage across the road, trees and live powerlines. There were a number of people who were still in there but couldn't get out, and they weren't letting me in.
Great, another thirty kilometers to ride, just what I wanted. I knew I had a big day the following day so today was meant to be light and easyish. But good news, one of the rangers were empathetic and generous enough to give a lift to the nearest town, Boreen Point.
It just so happens I was passing through here the following day anyway so it worked out well. Only problem was, I was planning on camping. I had already started eating into my emegency money. The ranger advised against camping as there were gail warnings and hail warnings for tonight, just like they had had in the district the night before. The same kind of storms were expected.
Bugger, but I really didn't have a choice, so off to the motel I pedalled. Yet again, I showered, took some imflamatories for my shoulder and rubbed in some gel to it. I lay there snoozing when I was awoken by a loud bang. The wind had whipped up, it was teaming and the Kona lay on her side on the verandah. I raced out to set my bike up as the strong wind was blowing rain into the motel room.
There was a break in the storm however, and I dashed up to the pub for a beer and a good steak. I have a fondness for the pub here, the Appolonian Hotel. You see it is where my wife and I made our vowes many happy years ago. This was the whole purpose of putting Boreen Point on the route.
I no longer walked onto the verendah of the pub and on cue the storm ripped into action once again. I had to wait the storm out now, so no point in going thirsty right?
Anyway, it was a quiet evening and I had a little company for dinner, the owners two little, and old, staffies curled up at my feet as I chomped away at my tastey portion of beef. As the pub was closing and the storm had eased somewhat, I persisted in getting back to the motel. But throughout the night the storms kept coming one after another. But I did get a good night's sleep and the shoulder pain had ceased. I had a full belly from a great steak and a few refreshing ales so I was pretty well a happy little camper...sleeping in a motel.
Cheers guys, and as always, ride safe.
The first thing I did when I awoke was to check the weather. If it was going to continue I was just going to have a day in bed...lol. But all was good on the western front and up I shot, had the coffee hot in no time flat and proceeded to pack and load the bike.
The day was overcast and cool but as I was leaving Tin Can Bay a few spots appeared on my glasses. No biggy, all gone in a minute or two. So I continued out through Cooloola Cove and headed for Rainbow Beach Road where I would connect onto Cooloola Way down through The Great Sandy National Park.
My plan was simple, a short fifty-five kilometer day and a good camp out at Harry's Hut, a place I haven't been to in years. But it sounded too simple to be true. I no longer arrived at Rainbow beach Road and the spots came back, only heavier. It wasn't long down the road before I had pulled over donned the rain gear as the heavens opened up. It was only 9:00 am, great.
I wasn't turning back now so progressed up the goat track slipping, sliding and skating my way round obstacles like fallen trees, washouts, rocks and the puddles that pooled to make dams across the road. Well at least I would have plenty of water...just open mouth and swallow.
It did ease off and eventually stop and the dat fined up nicely as I made my through the forests, mountain and some absolutely awesome scenery.
It was not that long before I had arrived at the turnoff to the campsite after traversing the hills and rolling casually down the other side. Ten kilometers to go, the day still reasonably early and all was good...well.
There were a couple of rangers at the turnoff with cameras and I thought they were just out there checking on things after the previous night's storm. It turned out they were there for that, but also to keep the campsite's access road closed due to carnage across the road, trees and live powerlines. There were a number of people who were still in there but couldn't get out, and they weren't letting me in.
Great, another thirty kilometers to ride, just what I wanted. I knew I had a big day the following day so today was meant to be light and easyish. But good news, one of the rangers were empathetic and generous enough to give a lift to the nearest town, Boreen Point.
It just so happens I was passing through here the following day anyway so it worked out well. Only problem was, I was planning on camping. I had already started eating into my emegency money. The ranger advised against camping as there were gail warnings and hail warnings for tonight, just like they had had in the district the night before. The same kind of storms were expected.
Bugger, but I really didn't have a choice, so off to the motel I pedalled. Yet again, I showered, took some imflamatories for my shoulder and rubbed in some gel to it. I lay there snoozing when I was awoken by a loud bang. The wind had whipped up, it was teaming and the Kona lay on her side on the verandah. I raced out to set my bike up as the strong wind was blowing rain into the motel room.
There was a break in the storm however, and I dashed up to the pub for a beer and a good steak. I have a fondness for the pub here, the Appolonian Hotel. You see it is where my wife and I made our vowes many happy years ago. This was the whole purpose of putting Boreen Point on the route.
I no longer walked onto the verendah of the pub and on cue the storm ripped into action once again. I had to wait the storm out now, so no point in going thirsty right?
Anyway, it was a quiet evening and I had a little company for dinner, the owners two little, and old, staffies curled up at my feet as I chomped away at my tastey portion of beef. As the pub was closing and the storm had eased somewhat, I persisted in getting back to the motel. But throughout the night the storms kept coming one after another. But I did get a good night's sleep and the shoulder pain had ceased. I had a full belly from a great steak and a few refreshing ales so I was pretty well a happy little camper...sleeping in a motel.
Cheers guys, and as always, ride safe.
Friday 10 November 2017
The Worst Day's Cycling Of My Life.
After breaking camp and looking forward to, what appeared to be a much cooler day I headed off on my merry way. I had another path chosen for the beginning of today's leg and set out to find the start.
I had a bit of trouble here, apparently the trail that I programmed into Komoot no longer existed. This wasn't the app's fault, but yet again the appee. I meddled with the route to find a more direct one when storing it so maybe I should just leave well enough alone...lol.
I found my way eventually and headed off through the scrub to join onto Maryborough/Biggenden Rd which would take me into Maryborough. It was a much better surface to ride than the previous day and I was able to maintain a comfortable nineteen to twenty kilometers per hour. There were no major hills and there was not one car in sight. Just perfect.
I eventually got onto the major road I was looking for and pedalled east through West Maryborough. The clouds were dissipating and the temperature was rapidly rising. It was 36*C by the time I got into town.
I headed for Queens Park on the river where I wanted to rest, fill water bottles and have a snack before continuing. The shade of the park made it seem like entering airconditioning. I hung around probably too long but I really didn't care.
I eventually made my way through Granville on the southern side of town and headed towards Boonoroo. It is a long stretch of straight road that runs along this trek and is known as Boonoroo Straight. It was only a couple of yers ago on this very straight that I was racing. On the return leg a guy in front brought myself and half dozen others down. This only just six weeks after a bad crash on some cane lines in Bundaberg. The scars were still on the mend and had now been re-opened...
Anyway, there was no crash this time, just a continual increase in temp and a strengthening of wind that had changed to being a headwind. Lovely thing about panniers, they make a great sail for tailwinds, but make a hell of a parachute for the opposite.
I eventually got to Marybourough/Cooloola Rd and began to head south. I have driven this road a million times before and hence we face apprehension number two for the trip. A non-existant shoulder and a road that is frequented by the wandering grey nomad and logging trucks.
But the caravans and logging trucks were the least of my problem. The temp now well into the 40's, the sun belting down and heat frying upwards made this, without a doubt, the toughest day I have ever experienced in the saddle. The wind now changing from the east to the south-east, could things get any worse. Yes, I hadn't hit the hilly section yet, it was still to come. I seriously started to look into the forest for a stealth camp site. I didn't think I was going to make it.
I pushed on, starting to walk the many hills that began to raise their ugly heads. There it began, thunder in the distance. I thought nothing of it really, it is quite normal throughout this time of year. A hot day breeds humidity and heat forming clouds and thunder and quite often nothing comes of it.
The thunder seemed to come around behind me and head out towards the sea. I thought it was over, then the lighteneing started and the thunder returned. Now thunder doesn't worry me in the slightlest, but out on an open stretch of road bordered by tall Hoop Pines, lightening is the last thing I wanted.
After a myriad of flashes and rumbles the spots of rain started to show up on the bitumen and I quickly covered the panniers and donned my lightweight spray jacket. Then it fell, and fell, and fell.
By now the temp had dropped from what had topped out at 48 degrees to a now chilly and damp 18.5. From heatstroke to chill, just what I needed. Anyhow, after a while the rain did stop and the cooler temperature did make for much needed releif. It's just that the rain would stop, then start, then stop, you get the picture.
After what I can only describe as an agonising day I saw it, the T-Junction that would soon direct me to my camping spot. Only a few kilometers to go. This rallied in me some excitement and gave re-birth to an otherwise weary body, and there it was, the intersection of Tin Can Bay and Rainbow Beach Rds.
I pulled into the rest area, sat relieved I had finally made it. I pulled my phone out of my bag and as I did, it rang. It was my wife wanting to tell me of a mighty storm that was hitting Bundaberg and to check BOM (Bureau Of Meteorology) for weather concerns up and down the coast. Well I did and I didn't like what I saw. Gail force wind warning, hail warning, severe thunder storms and the list went on.
My trip for the day was not over, it was time to hightail it to better accommodation. The tent wouldn't be enough for tonight. I quickly booked the cheapest room that I could on-line and time trialled it on the fully loaded Kona another ten kilometers. With the wind picking up dramatically the bike was very unstable with the wind pushing me sideways and every other way.
Anyway, I made it, booked in and breathed a sigh of relief, this time for real. I wasn't going anywhere now, the day's journey done. I jumped into the shower and on my exit I heard the pelting down of rain on the roof. The rain was that heavy I couldn't see the other side of the carpark. The wind was whipping up a frenzy. I had done it. I had endured the heat, I had suffered the lightening and rain from earlier, but now, and finally, I had beaten the deluge that was now falling...for today.
Cheers guys, and as always, ride safe.
I had a bit of trouble here, apparently the trail that I programmed into Komoot no longer existed. This wasn't the app's fault, but yet again the appee. I meddled with the route to find a more direct one when storing it so maybe I should just leave well enough alone...lol.
I found my way eventually and headed off through the scrub to join onto Maryborough/Biggenden Rd which would take me into Maryborough. It was a much better surface to ride than the previous day and I was able to maintain a comfortable nineteen to twenty kilometers per hour. There were no major hills and there was not one car in sight. Just perfect.
I eventually got onto the major road I was looking for and pedalled east through West Maryborough. The clouds were dissipating and the temperature was rapidly rising. It was 36*C by the time I got into town.
I headed for Queens Park on the river where I wanted to rest, fill water bottles and have a snack before continuing. The shade of the park made it seem like entering airconditioning. I hung around probably too long but I really didn't care.
I eventually made my way through Granville on the southern side of town and headed towards Boonoroo. It is a long stretch of straight road that runs along this trek and is known as Boonoroo Straight. It was only a couple of yers ago on this very straight that I was racing. On the return leg a guy in front brought myself and half dozen others down. This only just six weeks after a bad crash on some cane lines in Bundaberg. The scars were still on the mend and had now been re-opened...
Anyway, there was no crash this time, just a continual increase in temp and a strengthening of wind that had changed to being a headwind. Lovely thing about panniers, they make a great sail for tailwinds, but make a hell of a parachute for the opposite.
I eventually got to Marybourough/Cooloola Rd and began to head south. I have driven this road a million times before and hence we face apprehension number two for the trip. A non-existant shoulder and a road that is frequented by the wandering grey nomad and logging trucks.
But the caravans and logging trucks were the least of my problem. The temp now well into the 40's, the sun belting down and heat frying upwards made this, without a doubt, the toughest day I have ever experienced in the saddle. The wind now changing from the east to the south-east, could things get any worse. Yes, I hadn't hit the hilly section yet, it was still to come. I seriously started to look into the forest for a stealth camp site. I didn't think I was going to make it.
I pushed on, starting to walk the many hills that began to raise their ugly heads. There it began, thunder in the distance. I thought nothing of it really, it is quite normal throughout this time of year. A hot day breeds humidity and heat forming clouds and thunder and quite often nothing comes of it.
The thunder seemed to come around behind me and head out towards the sea. I thought it was over, then the lighteneing started and the thunder returned. Now thunder doesn't worry me in the slightlest, but out on an open stretch of road bordered by tall Hoop Pines, lightening is the last thing I wanted.
After a myriad of flashes and rumbles the spots of rain started to show up on the bitumen and I quickly covered the panniers and donned my lightweight spray jacket. Then it fell, and fell, and fell.
By now the temp had dropped from what had topped out at 48 degrees to a now chilly and damp 18.5. From heatstroke to chill, just what I needed. Anyhow, after a while the rain did stop and the cooler temperature did make for much needed releif. It's just that the rain would stop, then start, then stop, you get the picture.
After what I can only describe as an agonising day I saw it, the T-Junction that would soon direct me to my camping spot. Only a few kilometers to go. This rallied in me some excitement and gave re-birth to an otherwise weary body, and there it was, the intersection of Tin Can Bay and Rainbow Beach Rds.
I pulled into the rest area, sat relieved I had finally made it. I pulled my phone out of my bag and as I did, it rang. It was my wife wanting to tell me of a mighty storm that was hitting Bundaberg and to check BOM (Bureau Of Meteorology) for weather concerns up and down the coast. Well I did and I didn't like what I saw. Gail force wind warning, hail warning, severe thunder storms and the list went on.
My trip for the day was not over, it was time to hightail it to better accommodation. The tent wouldn't be enough for tonight. I quickly booked the cheapest room that I could on-line and time trialled it on the fully loaded Kona another ten kilometers. With the wind picking up dramatically the bike was very unstable with the wind pushing me sideways and every other way.
Anyway, I made it, booked in and breathed a sigh of relief, this time for real. I wasn't going anywhere now, the day's journey done. I jumped into the shower and on my exit I heard the pelting down of rain on the roof. The rain was that heavy I couldn't see the other side of the carpark. The wind was whipping up a frenzy. I had done it. I had endured the heat, I had suffered the lightening and rain from earlier, but now, and finally, I had beaten the deluge that was now falling...for today.
Cheers guys, and as always, ride safe.
The Trek Begins
It's Day 6 of my trip and who would've thought that the first week could have had so many ups and downs. I don't mean hills either. It has been a week of mixed weather from severe heat to thundering storms, and it has tested me. I thought I was going to have a holiday, I wasn't endeavouing to commit to some kind of 'life' challenge. I have three daughters at home, I don't need anymore challenges...lol.
Monday started out later than I had planned but, meh, I was on holidays so if you can't leave when you want to, what's the point? I headed out via the cane fields and vegie crops of Southern Bundaberg along Goodwood and Farnsfield Roads to Childers. I had done this route many a time so it was just a means to an end really. But it was different cruising on a loaded touring bike compard to a ight carbon road bike.
The Dippers, or Rollers of Farnsfield Rd were a breeze but I had Showground Hill to contend with. Needless to say I walked it. That's all well and good, it was a nice day for a walk.
After some lunch and a coffee at the park in Childers it was time to tackle the first of my apprehensions, The Bruce Highway. The Bruce is known as the worst highway in Australia and whilst there is plenty of shoulder to the side, the mere thought of what could be flying down behind me was eerily disturbing.
Luckily I only had thirty-five kilometers to ride before turning off, and I have to say that I was impressed with the general motoring populous that day. I was given plenty of room and it wasn't overly busy.
I headed into my first night's camp at Wongi Waterholes in the State Forest. Along a bone jolting corrugated road I pedalled taking every bump into my now overly tired body. But, HOORAY...I finally made it to a beautiful little spot with cold showers, toilets and a swimming hole that I was so tempted to emerge myself in, and no-one else around.
Up the tent went, a cold shower that revived and rejuvinated an old bum's body and all that was needed was a cold beer. But I haven't worked out how to carry a fridge on the Kona yet.
Dinner on and eaten, no fly on the tent, and a warm night just made to lay back and watch the stars above saw me drift into a peaceful slumber.
It was about 1:30 in the morning when I was awoken by my tent, with me in it trying to blow away. As I looked up I saw the emptiness of looming storm clouds that replaced the sparceness of stardom that had once been. A few drops of rain was felt through the screen of the tent and in no time I hade the fly whipped over and my gear, as best I could, shoved in under the fly. I no longer tucked myself into my hiding hole and the heavens opened. I awoke about 5:30 am to hear the patter of light drops still falling, but it was on the clear.
Day two strated right about then. But in no hurry to get up in the rain I just laid there until it eventuall stopped. I had, in my haste packed everything I thought of before the earlier downpour, but one thing...my socks. There's nothing like putting wet socks on in the morning.
I did take my time and as the sun encroached through the clouds I had a line of damp clothes hanging in the broken morning sunshine. It was still windy, so if the sun didn't work, surely the wind would help.
With an overcast day, a slight chill to the breeze I was in for a cool day's ride. Or so I thought...
Cheers guys, and as always, ride safe.
Monday started out later than I had planned but, meh, I was on holidays so if you can't leave when you want to, what's the point? I headed out via the cane fields and vegie crops of Southern Bundaberg along Goodwood and Farnsfield Roads to Childers. I had done this route many a time so it was just a means to an end really. But it was different cruising on a loaded touring bike compard to a ight carbon road bike.
The Dippers, or Rollers of Farnsfield Rd were a breeze but I had Showground Hill to contend with. Needless to say I walked it. That's all well and good, it was a nice day for a walk.
After some lunch and a coffee at the park in Childers it was time to tackle the first of my apprehensions, The Bruce Highway. The Bruce is known as the worst highway in Australia and whilst there is plenty of shoulder to the side, the mere thought of what could be flying down behind me was eerily disturbing.
Luckily I only had thirty-five kilometers to ride before turning off, and I have to say that I was impressed with the general motoring populous that day. I was given plenty of room and it wasn't overly busy.
I headed into my first night's camp at Wongi Waterholes in the State Forest. Along a bone jolting corrugated road I pedalled taking every bump into my now overly tired body. But, HOORAY...I finally made it to a beautiful little spot with cold showers, toilets and a swimming hole that I was so tempted to emerge myself in, and no-one else around.
Up the tent went, a cold shower that revived and rejuvinated an old bum's body and all that was needed was a cold beer. But I haven't worked out how to carry a fridge on the Kona yet.
Dinner on and eaten, no fly on the tent, and a warm night just made to lay back and watch the stars above saw me drift into a peaceful slumber.
It was about 1:30 in the morning when I was awoken by my tent, with me in it trying to blow away. As I looked up I saw the emptiness of looming storm clouds that replaced the sparceness of stardom that had once been. A few drops of rain was felt through the screen of the tent and in no time I hade the fly whipped over and my gear, as best I could, shoved in under the fly. I no longer tucked myself into my hiding hole and the heavens opened. I awoke about 5:30 am to hear the patter of light drops still falling, but it was on the clear.
I did take my time and as the sun encroached through the clouds I had a line of damp clothes hanging in the broken morning sunshine. It was still windy, so if the sun didn't work, surely the wind would help.
With an overcast day, a slight chill to the breeze I was in for a cool day's ride. Or so I thought...
Cheers guys, and as always, ride safe.
Friday 3 November 2017
Ho Hum!
I should be getting excited right about now with only two days before depature, and yes I suppose I am in a suttle kind of way.
I would normally be getting everything ready, packing, unpacking, repacking etc. But tomorrow looks like an extremely busy day for me. I am in Brisbane at the moment helping my brother-in-law move house. That's some exciting shit right there...lol.
This was organised after my planned departure and although I should be anxiety level 100, I am not. I have a lounge room floor covered with a sprawl of gear that is is to be packed. I know I have all my gear in that pile...well I hope. I even think we had carpet last time I looked.
My bike is in top shape and ready and raring to go thanks to my good mate Jack at Dr Bike. He kindly picked it up last week and serviced it, cleaned it, adjusted everything and returned it like a brand new bike. I could never complain about his service.
The route is well mapped out, thought out and planned out...as well as one can. I do want to go for a short ride and double confirm Komoot's navigational skills just to be on the safe side. I'll do this tomorrow morning early on my Sunday ride.
I do need to go and do a small shop for some food, tinned and fresh. But again a Sunday chore. Batteries need a restock of course.
I suppose I need to fit a birthday dinner in for my wife. I'll be away for her birthday. Isn't she a lucky woman? Yes, I think so...lol.
I also have aquired a 20 watt solar panel so I intend to wire that up to my battery pack. It's a little bigger than I'm used to but it's not any heavier. The 5 watt panel that I have beeen using but does lack a little in a couple of ways. If I have low light for a few days in a rown, and trying to charge an electronic item whilst charging the battery it struggles. With the larger panel I'll have no trouble charging the battery and a phone/garmin/lithium battery pack etc. I intend to use my phone extensively for navigtion so battery drain is a concern.
I also am testing my tablet with my new wireless keyboard as a small computer, and it is working well. I've replaced the old USB keyboard that I had simply to make it easier to post photos as I blog. That was a reason I didn't blog much during my last rides, it was just a pain in the preverbial. I'm silly for not doing this earlier.
So as I prepare to leave Brisbane for home with a loaded car and trailer I am pleasently relaxed. This may change tomorrow night before my departue on Monday. But I am confident that everything will be done by tomorrow afternoon.
I dont know if I have mentioned how excited I am before, but incase I haven't...lol. Even though the lead up is kind of dull, I am sure this will change tomorrow night. But then again, helping someone move is no real reason for celebration...lol.
Cheers guys, and as always, ride safe.
I would normally be getting everything ready, packing, unpacking, repacking etc. But tomorrow looks like an extremely busy day for me. I am in Brisbane at the moment helping my brother-in-law move house. That's some exciting shit right there...lol.
This was organised after my planned departure and although I should be anxiety level 100, I am not. I have a lounge room floor covered with a sprawl of gear that is is to be packed. I know I have all my gear in that pile...well I hope. I even think we had carpet last time I looked.
My bike is in top shape and ready and raring to go thanks to my good mate Jack at Dr Bike. He kindly picked it up last week and serviced it, cleaned it, adjusted everything and returned it like a brand new bike. I could never complain about his service.
The route is well mapped out, thought out and planned out...as well as one can. I do want to go for a short ride and double confirm Komoot's navigational skills just to be on the safe side. I'll do this tomorrow morning early on my Sunday ride.
I do need to go and do a small shop for some food, tinned and fresh. But again a Sunday chore. Batteries need a restock of course.
I suppose I need to fit a birthday dinner in for my wife. I'll be away for her birthday. Isn't she a lucky woman? Yes, I think so...lol.
I also have aquired a 20 watt solar panel so I intend to wire that up to my battery pack. It's a little bigger than I'm used to but it's not any heavier. The 5 watt panel that I have beeen using but does lack a little in a couple of ways. If I have low light for a few days in a rown, and trying to charge an electronic item whilst charging the battery it struggles. With the larger panel I'll have no trouble charging the battery and a phone/garmin/lithium battery pack etc. I intend to use my phone extensively for navigtion so battery drain is a concern.
I also am testing my tablet with my new wireless keyboard as a small computer, and it is working well. I've replaced the old USB keyboard that I had simply to make it easier to post photos as I blog. That was a reason I didn't blog much during my last rides, it was just a pain in the preverbial. I'm silly for not doing this earlier.
So as I prepare to leave Brisbane for home with a loaded car and trailer I am pleasently relaxed. This may change tomorrow night before my departue on Monday. But I am confident that everything will be done by tomorrow afternoon.
I dont know if I have mentioned how excited I am before, but incase I haven't...lol. Even though the lead up is kind of dull, I am sure this will change tomorrow night. But then again, helping someone move is no real reason for celebration...lol.
Cheers guys, and as always, ride safe.
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