The Best Laid Plans.

Our intention was to head off in the school holidays for a week long family bike trip. We were going to drive out to Kingaroy, camp there for the first night, then ride the Kilkivan to Kingaroy Rail Trail and back again. With all the gear ready in the garage, dry bags all but finished being packed, food purchased and all done bar the loading of the car, four out of the five of us came down hard with the flu.
We were due to leave on the Wednesday, got sick on the Tuesday, the day before leaving, and didn't recover until the following Wednesday.

So what do you do when there's still a little time left of the holidays? Pack up and at least go camping for a couple of days...and that's what we did.

We're set up at Benarkin at the moment. Why Benarkin you may ask? Well it's quiet, free, and has great amenities.
Benarking is situated about one to one and a half hours north west of Brisbane, and if you have read my blogs, I have just completed a ride from Bundy to Brisbane. Benarkin is a place I camped on my ride, the first night after hitting the Brisbane Valley Rail Trail.
There's not much here but a general store with friendly opperators, and a few houses. It's not far off the D'Aguillar Hwy and only about five kilometers east of Blackbutt. But like I said, it's free, quiet with hot showers and clean toilets. Plus it is on the BVRT, and that can't be a bad thing.

We were nearly going to stay at home but my wife got a call to tell that her aunty, who had had dimentia for some time, had passed away. She was planning on going to the funeral in Brisbane, and thought it may have been this same week, but it wasn't. So we thought we'd head off a little earlier to just have a couple of days away before we had to attend. So Benarkin before Brisbane sounded a great option.

Death doesn't scare me, I have no fear of it at all. Sure it holds sadness and yes, some go well before their time. But sometimes, just sometimes there are fates worth then death, dimentia as my wife's aunty had, Motor Neurone as my mother-in-law passed from...sometimes I think Death can be a great friend and the ultimate healer.

But I'm not here to talk about death and the mysteries of life, I have no vested interest in The Hitchikers Guide To The Galaxy.

So sitting here at the same little picnic table that I sat at cooking my dinner only several weeks ago, now blogging with head torch on and a cold can of Great Northern beside me is a little surreal.

In the end I'm glad we didn't end up pushing for a cycling trip. Am I dissapointed, hell yes. But we, as a family we went for a gentle ride down the The Fettlers Rest and back today, and boy did we feel it.

People rave about fitness when cycle touring, but I have to disagree. It doesn't take a whole lot of fitness to tackle a short ride of say, thirty kilometers per day. At this level if you were to undertake a short weekend trip there would not be any great issue. Yes, your legs and buttocks would probably get a bit sore, but that would improve as you went along. I said to my wife today after the short ten kilometer round trip, "You're 10 kms fitter than you were before you left". I'm still working out if that was the right thing to say. You see, I'm not slow, I just don't listen fast...lol.

But my point here is that she did it. Would she have handled the thirty kilometers per day that we had planned to do do even though she wasn't experienced or fit? Yes.

You see, whilst relative fitness isn't that big of an issue, good health is. There's a big difference between being unfit and unwell. Even I struggled today pulling our little makeshift doggy trailer with our twenty kilogram, 100% pure bred mut behind me. Down to the Rest is a - 2 % grade, great going down, but the long, even though not steep climb home made one work.

Now had we not been sick, yes, it still would have probably been a good work out, five kilometers at a 2 % gradient is like that. But usually it is not so much of a problem.

What's my point here...don't let your fitness, or lack of, stop you, especially if you intend on just a shortish trip way on your own, or with the family. However, if unwell than that is a different story. Like death, there are worse things than being unfit, and being unwell is one of them. It is here that you learn to become flexible. A cycle tour is just a holiday, and on a holiday shit happens. You can get sick, suffer an injury or worse. This is when you learn to change plans, cancel them or maybe stay put for a few days whist things improve.

Let me put things into perspective here. When I started touring I was fit, really fit. I raced, now I wasn't much good at it but I raced. In a sprint I could blow my heartrate out to around 211 BPM and have it drop very soon after. Am I as fit now...not in your Nelly. The thing is, it didn't matter how fit I was, it was hard riding in "touring mode". I had to keep an average, I had to do a certain distance per day; and I thought I could do that standing my head.
I was wrong, touring is different. It is probably easier for a newby to cycling to adapt to touring than a fully fledge MAMIL come try hard racer. Why? Because a newby wouldn't care about distance over speed over time and their average on Strava. But newby or wannabe racer, illness makes it hard.

It's alright to change plans, take an extra day, or cancel altogether. The trail or the road remains, it will still be there tomorrow. Will you be disappointed, yes of course, but hey that's life. It's not a race, it's a holiday.

The moral to the story is, you don'thave to be fit, just in good health.

Cheers guys, and ride safe.

Where To Now? My Hopes & Dream For The Future.

After my ride to Brisbane I am hooked hook, line and sinker on touring all over again. The earlier part of this year had taken it's toll for the worst. Not much riding, very little enthusiasm and a deep regression away from what I loved most besides my family.

The posting of videos to YouTube were just for fun and to keep friends and family updated, or annoyed, however you want to look at. But certain things that have happened over the past couple of months have helped me put things into perspective once again.

Work is not as intrusive into my life at present and I am using this time to, pardon the cliche', re-invent myself. I am over with driving and I have worked out what I want to do. When asked by someone what I really wanted to do, I thought for a moment and stated, "Ride my bike and work towards making a living doing what I love, riding my bike".

I was told in no uncertain terms, "Do it, don't try, do it". I was also told to never use the term, "I'll try. I'll try is a form of lying to ourselves and can prevent us from chasing that dream. It leads us into a form of complacency which then enables us to back out, or only try halfheartedly which we then can use to our detriment".

I thought about it for a while, you know, it's only in a way something that is worded. It can't be that important. But words do have power over us and especially when you have done something for so long it seems that it will be impossible to change. With me it was truck driving, it was easy. I always used to term, "At least it's good, I always have something to fall back on". Fall back on I did, continually. It's funny how something so profoundly used as a 'safety net' can so definitely become your 'prison'. So those days are behind me. It's now time I turn my back on, and bust out of my prison, leading to nothing but endless possibilities.

So what are my plans? Well they are exciting for me and I am still in a world of self doubt but oozing with positivity and confidence. It is up to I, and I alone to change things for the better; and will.

Firstly... I will continue doing trips. They may only be a week long or a weekend long. It's hard for a married family man, or woman, to get away on the "epic" road trip. Cycle touring isn't about the distance or the country, it is the time away. It is getting out on your pedal powered two wheeler and just going for it.

This will become a big focus for me. How to's for a family man/woman, or whole family get aways. I hope through my blogging and vlogging, website and other social media to encourage others to get out there in a family friendly, budget conscious way. I'll offer hacks, cheaper alternatives and ways that you can get out there. I have been working on some budget friendly hacks for bike packing and getting some use out of the old Merida TFS mountain bike.

Secondly... I intend on vlogging more regularly. Not just trips away like I have been, but a look into my gear, the price family gear that I have and offer alternatives for bikes, and camping equipment in general.

Thirdly... I love writing. Whether I am any good at it, you be the judge. But I plan to get stories together, along with photos (and that means lumping around my DSLR) and sending off to travel and cycling sites, magazines, etc.

Fourthly... More trips...lol

Fifth... I want to move into an area of helping people to learn how to get out there. My plan for this is to organise tours targeted at those who may never have toured before, to help them get on the bike and get going. I know for me, as excited as I was, the first time was quite nerve racking. It doesn't need to be and shouldn't be, but you can't avoid our humanness. It's the uncertainty, the unknown, the what if's that do deter people. So, what if you, as a first timer, could hook up with someone who had been down this road? What if you just happened to know of a guy that has organised a small trip so you could learn the ropes a little?
Let's face it, most cycle touring mobs focus on long trips or day trips. Other than that there are your supported rides such as those done through Cycling Orgs.

Sixth... I want to do something that means something to me. We all want a purpose in life right? What if I was to say it this way..."We all want to do the things we enjoy, and if we can help others along the way...great. More so, if we can make a modest living off it...fanbloodytastic.
I don't want to be a rich man. Bullshit you might say. Well that would be nice, but I merely just want to do what I love doing and maybe earn a small amount from it. Not a bankroll or anything, just enough to keep me doing what I love doing and help pay the bills. What's that old saying, "Do something you love and you never work a day in your life", or something to that effect.
So hopefully I can do something with the writing and make a little cash from it. Monetising my social media through advertising makes a little, very little in fact. Sponsorship, or platforms like Patreon are another way down the track once I have enough viewers and subscribers to Blogger and YouTube. Maybe also a little from guided tours, who knows?

I want to keep things authentic. I don't want to get all fancy and over professionalise things. If you listen to the podcast that I did with a great guy, Coach Jeff Smith, you'll hear how I like my little imperfections.

Ask a friend or two of mine and you'll know that I wanted to move into the cycling touring things sometime ago. But thanks to the encouragement of, not just my friends, but Jeff Smith and Graham Killoran I have been able to take more defined steps towards this.

So these are some plans for the future. Will they work, or won't they? What this holds I don't know, all I know is that I can't "not" go for it. I would rather give it my best shot and fail, than do what I have been doing for sometime, and that is living with the feeling of a life wasted, living with the regrets of not doing...

Cheers guys, and ride safe out there.

Brisvegas 2.0. Day 7.

It was an early rise. I wanted to get into Wulkuraka to get onto a train to get over to the other side of Brisbane. Today was going to be my very own version of Planes, Trains and Automobiles...well kind of, bike ways, trains and rail trails anyway. It was sad in a way, a trip that you have anticipated for so long was on it's way to being over. But I couldn't let that stop me, it was time to get moving.

I was up as light was beginning to break through the darkness. The stars that were above me were disappearing into the light that was approaching from the horizon. I had to just stop for amount and take in the dawning of a new day.

After coming to, I progressed with the packing up. Nearly everything was done the night before. It was as simple as just packing up my tent and bedding, getting dressed and loading the bike, and it was all done by 7:00 a.m.

With all my gear loaded first stop was Fernvale, breakfast and coffee...coffee big, strong and black. I headed out of the showgrounds with hardly a car in sight. This was Saturday so it was great to see a small cycling group gathering in the car park near the Lowood Station getting ready for their morning ride. This is something I used to do on a regular basis, my Oodies ride on a Saturday morning, getting together with a few friends, no race, no Strava, just chat and coffee back at the best cafe in town, Oodies.

Where was I, yes, as I rode through the car park a lady greeted me with a huge smile. She was probably the friendliest person I had encountered at Lowood...must be a bike thing....lol. After the smile she asked, "Are you joining us?". I replied, "I'd love to, but I'm going this way". We waved and laughed, and I continued on my merry way.

I moved south out of Lowood and a gentlemen was being towed along by his horse. Well it was really a dog, it was just so bloody big you could've mistaken it for a horse. After he was dragged across my path causing me to brake abruptly, he apologised and laughed in a kind of nervous laugh. I just laughed and waved, and implied that the dog was that big it could tow me all the way to Brisbane.

The trail was pretty flat and predictable along the section to Fernvale. I don't mean predictable in a bad way, the scenery was great, But the trail itself was relatively consistent with the exception of road crossings and barriers. The barriers aren't bad and usually you can ride through them, like a chicane. They're mainly in place to stop motorcycles and the like using the trail.

I pulled into Fernvale and found the bakery that was recommended to me by a friend. A couple of croissants and a sausage roll with a coffee perked me up and removed the final bit of sleep that had a hold on me. The coffee was good, the croissants and sausage roll...meh!
I don't know if it was just me, but I found Fernvale to be a little on the snobby side, a kind of Brisbane's Kenmore out in the west. Anyway I was only there to eat and caffeine up.

I mounted the Kona and crossed the main street to set back out on the trail. I only got a couple of hundred meters and had to negotiate a fete, or something, that blocked the trail completely. I had to squeeze in between some vehicles and bush in the rear to get past. Part of me wanted to ride through the middle of it, but that was the part that hadn't been hit by the caffeine yet.

I continued south out of town and the trail was like a well preserved dirt road, like a well groomed driveway. I thought to myself, "I hope its like this all the way", but I thought too soon...lol. It wasn't bad though but it began to variate like it had done for the past few days.

Not far out of Fernvale you come into Farney View, and it was here I said out load a great "Shit"... Nothing bad, but it was the perfect spot to free camp, you know the whole woulda, coulda, shoulda scenario. There were no properties around. It was off the road and a little way down from the road crossing and gate there was a lovely little shady spot that was well out of the sight of anybody. Ah well, you know hind sight and all that jazz.

Not five minutes down the track was another load "Shit"... No, not another great camping site, but a loud pffft from the rear tyre again. That made two punctures on the BVRT and one for the first day on the SBRT. Trails 3, Ian 0. It was kind of expected, you can't take a fully loaded touring bike over this kind of trail and not expect a pinch flat or two.

I changed the tube and set out on my way again. After Wanora, the next station site on the trail, you hit another couple of creek crossings. Nothing major, I think one by memory was a walker. After Wanora you continue through the old station sites of Borallon, Pine Mountain and Murlea. You just get in your stride still being caught up in the scenery then the beauty gives way to the Warrego Hwy Underpass. It was shame really, I had come all this way through relative seclusion and the fumes in the air began to take over my senses.

I lifted my bike across the barriers under the highway and was on my last five hundred meters of dirt. Then...from dirt to perfectly smooth concrete in the blink of an eye. I was now on the Brassall Bikeway heading for Wulkuraka. I really didn't know if I was going the right way, but after the days on dirt, I didn't really care...lol. But, it was long before I came across a sign that was pointing me in the right direction.

I followed the bike path all the way to station and was thoroughly impressed in the "Europeaness" of what the Ipswich Council had done. As an example, it was well signed and as the bike path crossed roadways and streets, there were give way signs. Not for the bike to give way to cars, but visa versa...wonderful. I wasn't in Kansas anymore Toto.

I found the station with little fuss and eventually worked out how to read the timetable and work the automatic ticket thingy, I'm so not a city slicker...lol. The train eventually came which I boarded and headed into Ipswich Central for the change over.

Getting off the train at Ipswich a friendly gentleman was helpful with getting my bike off the train and over to the city bound train. Now I was off to Milton...tooot, tooot.

Milton came, I got off the train and headed for the Riverside Bikeway. I hadn't ridden any of the bikeways around Brisbane and was very impressed. I had a bit of a mishap when coming off the Goodwill Bridge and onto the Kangaroo Point BW. I missed the turn onto the South East Freeway Bikeway. I so need to get myself a phone mount for my handlebars.

Anyway, after a u-turn I was quickly on the right path (pardon the pun) and heading for Stones Corner. I knew where I was now so the rest is history except, you just don't realise how hilly Coorparoo really is until you've ridden it on a bike...phew!

Well that was it, I had reached my final destination. I was hoping to go further but I had to return for a few days work. The girls came running out of my brother-in-law's house screaming, "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy's here".

No more serenity, no more dirt roads, no more setting my tent up alongside the trail. It was just memories now, and a great sense of accomplishment. I had done it. I had ridden to Brisbane. Yes I know, it wasn't entirely from Bundaberg...but still. I had hit two trails that I wanted to ride. I had done a complete end to end of the BVRT, I had finished what I had set out to do.

Now, what's next...

Brisvegas 2.0. Day 6

It was a difficult decision on Friday morning when I was leaving Esk. It was only around thirty-eight kilometers to Lowood, and from Lowood to Wulkuraka was only approximately twenty-eight.

So my dilemma was, do I do two shortish days, or one longer one and a really short day. The other thing to consider was, where could I camp? If I decided to go beyond Lowood were there any places on the trail that I could stealthily set up my tent?

The BVRT recommend that you do not camp on the trail, they don't disallow it, just don't recommend it. There are free camps and relatively cheap camping options along it. But if you're like me and prefer to be 'away from people'...lol, what do you do?

You do have to be careful, as a lot of the trail borders, or runs through private property. I'm not one to impinge on peoples' privacy, or camp on private property, at least knowingly. So, not knowing the trail, I opted to do the first day to Lowood, the follow on the next day to Wulkuraka. If I knew then what I know now however...but hindsight is always a wonderful thing.

I headed out of Esk around 9:30 a.m. and continued south for Lowood. There was no great rush this day so no speed records were broken. I stopped many times, not just for photos or videos, but just for stopping's sake. It was a lovely ride, again with a mixture of terrain and surfacing on the trail. There were more steep creek crossings, some very difficult to push the loaded bike up the other side.

I had only ever seen this neck of the woods via the Brisbane valley Hwy, never by bike, and never secluded from the world like I was. Even though there are times that you ride parallel to the Hwy, you don't really notice it unless you look. But let's face it, with all the great scenery why would you be looking at a road?

The magpies were not viscous but were willing to let you know they were there. In fact the only troubling maggie was coming out of Linville the previous day. For those who aren't Australian we have Magpie Season. It runs for about six to eight weeks around the end of August through to October. It is their nesting season during this time and they can become particularly aggressive. Through this season they become a little like Drop Bears with wings...lol.

I continued down through Mt Hallen and Cooragook to Coominya where I stopped for a while to have morning tea in the shade. I then continued onto Lowood which was quite an easy and flat ride. Actually the trail flattened out well before Coominya. There would only be one more steep creek crossing to tackle today. It still amazed me how the demographics of the landscape continued to change. One minute riding through a well covered area then popping out into a vast clearing of where you could see clearly for miles.

Coming into Lowood I began to look for the showgrounds where I planned to camp for the night. After a couple attempts on Google Maps I eventually found it. My plan was to get set up, have a bit of a walk around town and chow down on a pizza and a couple of tallies.

The showgrounds are adequate, personally I would prefer to free camp somewhere, but for $5:00 for the night including showers, it was alright. There isn't a lot of shade in the main camping area, actually there isn't any. The caretakers were friendly, although I can't say that for others that had set their vans up for the night.

I did, however, find a nice flat shady spot behind one of the grounds sheds and just set a basic camp up for the night. The plan was to only unpack what I needed and get away early the following morning.

I found the showers and washed off, then headed up town and found a nice little cafe just around the corner. A nice strong long black is always my order and I sat down and sampled a piece of carrot cake, it wasn't as good as my wife's.

After my walk I laid down for a little rest. I must have dozed off because I was woken by a commotion. Where I had camped there was a row of houses behind. One of the locals and his partner decided to have a bit of a barney. Now, being a truck driver all my life, I'm not shy of certain words, but anyhooo... I decided to get up and move my tent. It was pretty easy to do and I decided to place it under the awning of the bar area. If you watch Pt 3 of my videos you will notice a difference from where I had set up, to where I was packing up the following morning, this is why...lol.

Instead of pizza I decided to go just for the tallies of beer and use what I had left in my grocery supplies to use them up. I think it was a tin of chicken, a couple of packets of 2 minute noodles and a couple of eggs. So the noodles and chicken mixed together with the noodles and the eggs poached on top. I have to admit, it only looked average, but tasted great. Washed down with a few Great Northerns and I was in heaven.

After dinner I sat up and listened to some podcasts, Freidel from The Travelling Two. She was interviewing a lady who, with her husband, had cycled across from Europe and down through Africa to Capetown. It was mean't to be a twelve month trip, and several years later they are still touring the world. Kind of puts my little trip into perspective...lol.

I also reflected on the trip, this would be the last night I would spend on the trail. I had seen some magnificent sights, met some great people and just had a ball riding some fantastic trails. This is what life should be all about...just taking it slow.

Brisvegas 2.0. Day 5.

Dawn came with a chilly surprise again. Frost covered the fly of the tent and the air was extremely brisk. I arose about 7:00 a.m. and started getting things together whilst having breakfast and coffee, sweet, sweet coffee.

I knew I had about seventy-five kilometers to get done today so I didn't want to get away too late. But you know how that goes. It was after 9:00 a.m. when I started pedaling down the trail. After leaving Benarkin I was amazed at the richness of the forest, the shelter from the elements you get for some time and a down hill grade all the way to Linville. I stopped plenty of times for photos and had a good rest at the Fettlers Rest. They are railway dogs, set up in the ground to represent those fettlers who had died in the building of the railway.
I had met some ladies earlier just after I left Benarkin. They were on a training ride for some charity ride. I rode with one of them for a while until I got my first puncture on the BVRT. Yes, first.

I continued on in a steady motion and stopped for a drink and snack at The Linville general Store. It's along the Benarkin to Linville section you begin to experience some steep creek crossings. Most are well paved and not difficult, although I would recommend an inexperienced rider to maybe dismount and walk these.

The old carriages lined up on the rail here at Linville are a great reminder of what used to be. In a day where we complain a train travelling at 100 km/h isn't high speed rail, I kind of think they had it better in those days. Sometimes taking it slow is a much better option.

After Linville the country side is mixed. Rolling hills in the distance, open sparse grazing land and forest. The gates begin to give way to chicanes and barriers which makes it much easier, especially on a loaded touring bike. The terrain of the trail also becomes mixed and a lot less predictable as the earlier stage. One moment it is relatively smooth, the next it had me wishing for  more suspension than a Brooks saddle.

As I came into Moore, the next town on the trail, I saw a heap of mountain bikes outside of the cafe on the northern side of town, it was the group of ladies I had met earlier in the day. It is here at Moore that you take the detour to Toogoolawah as this section of trail is yet to be completed. I circled around Moore a couple of times trying to find a sign for the detour. This is something that could be address, as signage through Moore isn't the best. But then again, I could learn to read the map properly.
I caught up with the ladies again and they kindly assisted me to the start of the detour. From there, all I had to do was look out for the small BVRT Detour signs.
There were several times I questioned my self along the beginning of this section. It is mainly as you first leave the road and follow what seems to be a power line clearing along property fence lines.

I found my way through this with no real problems, especially once I noticed the big brown signage painted on power poles...deerrrrr! Once through this section you are back onto roads again. Some sealed, some gravel and some seem to become forest roads again. Whatever the road, the scenery remained amazing.

You come into Toogoolwah along the rear of what I think is a timber mill on Ivory Creek Rd. You notice as you approach town, the trail on your left, and then cross Dingyara St where you're back on the trail again. It runs parallel to the main street.

After I left Toogoolawah and continue south, I don't know if I missed the trail or not. I ended running through a heavily grassed section that had the appearance that it had been cleared. It ran along the eastern side of the old bridge on the southern end of town. It wasn't much but there were a lot of thorns in amongst the grass. I was expecting another pfffft...but gladly it didn't happen.

I joined the trail once more and again, the trail was of a mixed terrain and surface along with the continuing changing views. One of my most memorable things on the trail happened on this section.
I think it was around Coal Ck. As I come up out of the creek crossing I had a phone call. I stopped to answer it leaning my bike against the fence. I stood talking on the phone for several minutes only to turn around to see that horse had traveled from one side of the paddock to the other to say hello. I gave him/her (I'm not that horsey...lol) a scratch on the head, it gave me a sniff and a lick and I walked away to continue my phone call.
After the call, it was just standing there staring at my bike. Hey, what can I say, the horse has taste.

I spent another few minutes with the steed, and the horse, then mounted the saddle and headed for Esk. The thing that get's me is how time flies when you're out doing stuff like this. You just get so caught up in the moment that time just slips by.

I still had about eight or nine kilometers to go and it was beginning to get late. I wanted to get to Esk before dark and the trail didn't let me down. It seemed to smooth out just as I needed it to. My plan here was to get into town and camp at the Esk Caravan Park. I was origianly going to camp, but I decided to soft cock it and get a cabin for the night. It was also a night to splurge out a little, after all I was halfway along the trail and only two more days shy of my trip.

I have to say that the Esk Caravan Park is an exceptional place. Whilst it was full of the Grey Nomads, as this time of year is migration season, they have everything to accommodate everyone from children to seniors. The camp kitchen...wow...puts most pubs and bars to shame. Whilst they have a fully accommodating servery and kitchen, with all the appliance one would need, they also have a covered outdoor area that is magnificent. Timber furniture surrounded by polished timber bar rails around the outside makes you set up in there and never leave. Oh, did I mention the two pizza ovens for you use?
They also have an unofficial happy hour from around 5:30 p.m. where people gather with their byo's. They also have live entertainment some nights. Just great stuff.

It wasn't happy hour at the camp kitchen for me, although I suppose I should have. I ended up at the Club Hotel, or the top pub as it is known. The owner and staff were friendly, as with the locals that had gathered at the bar. There were also a couple from Melbourne traveling up that way for the first time. So I suppose I didn't miss out on happy hour after all.

I staggered...oops, umm, I mean briskly walked back to my cabin around 9:00 p.m. made a coffee and had a great chat with my wife and kids. It was different having a tele to watch, but I soon found out that the t.v. in a cabin does the same thing as the one at home, puts me to sleep.