Getting Away...Finally...Part 2!

Day two; I was awoken by the local Kookaburras laughing, and magpies warbling. Although sleeping well, I found it a little restrictive in my little one man tent. Maybe it's the extra weight I've put on, maybe it's just a realisation that tents that size are just meant for little people.

I lay there for a while enjoying the cool breeze that seemed to be absent the day before. Leaving late the previous day left no creature comforts like cool breezes. Soon I was up, coffee on, and Uncle Toby's simmering away as I packed up my gear in preparation for the day's ride.

It was a good start to the day, out on the trail, free at last. Today's aim was Kingaroy. My original plan was to get to town...whenever that was, then head out of town approximately nine kilometres and hit a free camp for the night. That was the plan anyway, but one must remain flexible.

A cool morning is always great and I didn't have much water left so the smooth and comfortable ride into Murgon was a godsend. Even though it was still quite gravelly it was a vast improvement on what was ridden the previous day. The rail trail follows the main road, the Bunya Highway I think, quite closely almost to Murgon where it does deviate away for a while. It is probably a little more scenic on this section of the Kilkivan to Murgon section.

As I said, I was short on water and the day now was heating up. Still well before 9:00 am I trundled around Murgon looking for a tap to fill the water bottles. I asked a couple of people, on of which was a lovely elderly lady. She talked on how she loved her bike riding, and how she had upgraded to get a bike she wanted. She was impressed with the Cube and asked me many questions, not just about the bike but the trip also. She was extremely excited about what I was doing, thought I was a little crazy, but excited all the same.

After chatting to her the Visitors Information Centre had just opened it's doors. I entered and the freezing cold air conditioning was a more than welcome additive. I asked the lady about water and she was more than obliging to help me out. Water, check...time to keep going down the trail.

From Murgon to Kingaroy is the sealed section of the rail trail. After water I stopped, topped up the tyres by a few PSI's and locked the forks out. Last time I headed down this section of road it was wet and cold being winter. Not long after leaving Goomeri, along the Bunya Highway a big storm brewed and emptied it vengeance on my. I did have the foresight to cover up with the wet weather gear. This time was different, it was hot and it was dry, very dry.

Out of town and memories of the last trip flooded back, although the memory wasn't all that accurate...lol. It's funny how you remember a trip, or ride by certain things. With circumstances being different, it kind of changes things, or is that just me?

Morning tea time I was in Wondai. I had planned to visit the Bakery, but I opted just for shade in the local park. The billy on, and a Gatorade or two down I settled back for about an hour. I was in no rush after all.

By now the heat had well and truly began to set in. It was now 11:00 am and it was far hotter than the day before. No records, no rush was the motto of the day. It was still a gradual 1.5% to 2% incline. There was a breeze blowing, albeit a north easterly. When I caught it, it cooled things down a bit, but between Wondai and Wooroolin there is a lot of tall grass and shrubbery on the side of the trail. This was enough to block any breeze. That, coupled with the sun being above the yard arm, meant no shade and no breeze. Hot, was an understatement.

I love how the Tingoora, or Tinny, hotel stands out. It's a bit like them old time movies where the lost are wandering through the desert and see this oasis like mirage. The red roof and timber walls stand out like a beacon. I had to rub my eyes in disbelief. I stopped to take a photo, Instagram and all. As I began to pedal off in Wondai's direction some divine power grabbed the handle bars and steered me towards the Hotel. Out the front of the hotel I wrestled with this...ummm...divine intervention. I gave in, who am I to argue with a higher power. A schooner of Great Northern Super Crisp and a glass of ice water. Ahhh, I could have stayed there the night...

Anyway back to reality... I couldn't stay there all night, not because I had somewhere else to be, but because there was no accommodation. Oh shit! I've just remembered writing this, the oval opposite is a free camp...oh well!

After a good rest, refreshments and a great chat with the publican and a couple of patrons it was time to continue. Again continuing slightly uphill I pedalled onward. The heat increased and the water decreased. I had to stop again at Wooroolin, the next town. I topped up a bottle or two to make sure I had enough water and made friends with a Border Collie that seemed more intent with coming along with me than her owner. I had to leave her behind as beautiful as she was.

By now with the heat, it was just a town to town trot, there was still plenty of hours left on the day. The trail is smooth and suited for all types of cycling and hiking. This wasn't the problem, the heat was. As I approached Memerambi the ambient temperature reached 38.5*C. The heat recorded off the trail by the Garmin was 47.8*C. Because of the water shortage, what was thought to be fresh water tasted more like bore water. Bore water is minerally, almost salty to the taste. The water in the bottles on my forks were that hot, I didn't need to boil the water to make a cup of tea. It was around 1:30 pm at this stage.

I sent a text message to my wife about how hot it was, and after lunch at Memerambi I only had about ten kilometres to go to get to Kingaroy. Add another nine kilometres onto that, I would be at camp well and truly by 3:30 pm.

The trail meanders along the Bunya Highway into Kingaroy though farm fields. The scenery is magnificent. The dryness of the drought, the black soil and the green crops that are getting the benefits of irrigation was a brilliant contrast. The crops appeared to be canola, I could stand corrected.

Through Crawford and only five kilometres to go I seemed to pick up a bit of pace. This last leg is largely a decline into Kingaroy. Not far out of town my wife rang me. To my surprise she had decided to book me a motel for the night because of the heat.She was in the process of it so it was a wait in the local McDonalds with a cold...ummm...something that was pineapple in colour, not sure about the taste.

I grew a little impatient here. It was time that school was out. I just can't understand how some parents think it alright to sit back oblivious whilst their children run a muck squealing and screaming. Don't they know, that's what cupboards are for? Again, I'm an Old Bum after all, maybe more a Grumpy Old Bum.

Phew...book in completed...it was time to get outtathere, mad Maccas!!! Man o man...an air conditioned room and a pool. My wife did well. After a change and a walk up town to collect some cold water (filtered through hops) the pool was the destination. Ahhh, the serenity. Although not cold it was a vast improvement on the heat of the day.

I have to say at this stage, a big thank you to South Burnett Rail Trail and their supporters. Their well wishes and encouragement over the past days was fantastic. A big cheers guys.

The freshness of a swim, followed by a cold shower, an air conditioned room, and that chilled hoppsy, amber water, made the heat of the day dissipate. It was time to settle back and relax in comfort. No bare tent tonight.

Photo compliments Graham Ramsey

The new distance markers on the SBRT

Ahhh, coffee

Wooroolin

Noise and pineapple substitute

Getting Away...Finally...Part 1!

It seems like it has been forever since I have done a trip. Well, pretty much it has been. I had the chance to finally get away seeing I had a little time off work.

My plan was simple, retrace my steps of eighteen months ago when I headed off to Brisbane.
Yes, it's a little over eighteen months now since I did my last Brisbane trip. It was down the South Burnett Rail Trail, across via the Connection Route down to Brisbane via the Brisbane Valley Rail Trail.

A lot has changed since I last did it. The Kilkivan end was now open and you could ride from Kilkivan to Murgon on a rail trail rather than the Wide Bay Highway.
Also, the Moore to Toogoolawah section was now open on the Brisbane Valley Rail Trail. Last time I headed own there you had to travel via back roads to Toogoolawah.

It was about midday when I eventually set off. I was driven out to Kilkivan to save me two days riding. But by the time I had the bike unloaded from the car, and all the gear loaded onto the bike, the sun was well over the yard arm. February in Queensland is typically our hottest month, and nothing changed for this trip.

I started out enthusiastic, but also a little concerned. My concern wasn't for the bike, the gear or what I may encounter on the trail. It was more about myself, it had been ages since I had gone a touring.

I decided to try something a little different this time. Instead of me taking faithful Konny, my Kona Sutra, I thought I might try this darn fangled bike packing thing. Yes, loading up the new Cube MTB with a budget, as I'm always about budget, bike packing set up. I'll talk about this more later. So now on the Cube off into, literally, the sunset I rode.

The trail heading out of Kilkivan looks surprisingly not as used as I thought it would be. Open to hikers, bikers and horse riders alike I thought that it would be more worn that it was. But in saying that, the grass on the trail was bike high and it was difficult to determine how worn, or how much use it had had. To be honest I was more concerned what was living in the long grass than how used to trail was.

The surface was mixed, it was rocky, then it was gravelly, it was then sandy. I like this about a lot of trails I have ridden, the mixture of the surface. It helps break the boredom, and creates a constant riding challenge as you pedal along. There is a by-pass that goes around via Tansey Rd at the beginning. I opted to neglect the by-pass as I was running late. About seven kilometres west of Kilkivan there is a deep water hole, it usually needs wading through. But because it was much later when I got out there to start, and we have had a massive dry spell, I continued on the trail.

When I eventually got to it, it wasn't deep, but it was deep enough to swallow me up well above the ankles. Now I'm no soft cock. Mud doesn't worry me, nor does water, especially at around 38*C. But the waterhole was not just mud. It was a thick soupy slurry of cow manure and mud, with little water.
Now it had been a continual 2% uphill run from town, I also was attempting to get my touring legs back. There was no way I was riding all the way back into Kilkivan to take the Tansey Rd by-pass.

The gate on the property owner's gate said, "Private Property Keep Out" and I wasn't going to dissobey the sign, especially with the gate locked, and a bike to lift over the gate and fences. I grabbed a stick to see how deep the mud actually was. Not too deep, great. I then proceeded to find larger rocks, throw them in and make stepping stones across the stinking pile of mud like faeces. I eventually got across after about ten minutes, stepping across the pads and letting the bike roll through the mud hole.

Once up the other side I continued on for Goomeri, the next town. It was roughly about twenty nine kilometres from Kilkivan to Goomeri and, honestly I thought it would be a lot easier. But it was somewhat difficult. the continual inclined gradient, the long grass, mixed up surfaces and lack of touring legs made it tough going, enjoyable, somewhat crazy, but a little tough.

About 3:00 PM I started to feel exhausted and ill. Between the heat, the never ending opening and closing gates, yes very annoying, and the fact that I hadn't eaten at all all day brought on a case of the bonks. Being in so much of a hurry trying to get going I had forgotten to eat...not a smart move.
I found a nice shady spot under the shady remnants of an old bridge, made some lunch and slurped on a much needed ginger and lemon tea.

After lunch, and a much needed rest I pressed on for Goomeri. My original plan was to make Wondai's free camp fr the first night. But I knew by now, that wasn't happening. I got into Goomeri around 4:30 PM, bought a couple of cold drinks from the local supermarket and filled all my water bottles up at the toilets in the centre of town. I had noticed the rumbling of thunder as I was approaching Goomeri, and as I was ready to leave it started up louder. I check BOM and yes a storm was on it's way. Ah well, no big problem. I was in a rotunder and well sheltered. I didn't care if I had to call that place home for the night.

A lot of my trips, I guess have been over planned. Yes, over planned. I have in the past planned my trip down to the necessary kilometre. This trip was different. It was to break this, what I am thinking is a bad habit. You see, I would always plan to be at destination X by that night. I think in doing so I was putting more pressure on my self and probably missing out on a lot of enjoyment. This trip however, was the opposite. It was all about the ride. if I rode X distance for the day, who cares. I would pull up camp when either I or the legs had had enough.

Well, the storm didn't last long and there was very little in it. I knew there wasn't anywhere in Murgon to free camp so I thought that if I made it this far I'll do what I did eighteen months ago, camp on the side of the trail. Around seven kilometres east of Murgon I pulled over for a rest on some benches that had been established there. It was now almost dark and I was planning to ride on with the Bontager Ion 700 blazing bright into the night. I sat for a moment, rested, had a drink and noticed...this is a nice flat spot. It's well of to the side of the trail, had the benches there to sit at, no houses around...YES. I had found my campsite for the night.

It didn't take me long to get set up, get dinner on and get settled in for the night. It was amazing just camping o the side of the trail, stars burning the night sky and the ahhh, the quiet. I just love that quiet.

Still a small distance to go until Murgon, and only thirty eight kilometres down for the day, I was more than satisfied. Just being out on the bike again, wow.

Embarking on the trail

Finding that shady spot for lunch on a hot day

Waiting ou the storm and contemplating camping here

Ahh! Bedtime eventually

Boundary Trail Ball Breaker

The idea was simple, take the new mountain bike out and test it on some trails. We were staying in Adaminaby in the Snowy Mountains, which is renown for it's mountain bike trails in the non snow seasons. The problem was, most of those well known trails were in the Kosciuszko region. That meant packing the bike up and transporting it for over an hour's drive from where were staying. That was not simple.

The day before the ride I headed out on the bike to ride the fourteen kilometres along the Snowy Mountain Hwy to check where the trail head began, and that was the easy bit.

Now, getting back to "simple". The plan was to ride an approximate thirty-four kilometre route, up the Boundary Trail, join onto Brayshaw's Trail and visit the iconic Brayshaw's Hut. From there I was jumping onto the Gravel Hut Trail then check out the Gravel Hut, then back down onto the Boundary Trail back to the car.

The trip was worked out on Google maps well in advance, hence thirty-four kilometres, with a modest four hundred and fifty metres of climbing. Yeah good one Google maps, you got me good.

The bike was loaded, coffee made and I headed out for an adventure in an area that I had never been before, the Kosciuszko National Park. The land of the Man From Snowy River territory.
Once I got to the trail head the bike was quickly unloaded and I set off with great anticipation.

Once leaving the car there is a brief down hill moment as you go through the gates and onto the trail, then you just stare upwards. The first climb I encountered was around seventeen percent. Not overly horribly (yeah right), but with cold legs, an overweight body and lack of fitness, it made the heart race.

OK, now I was at the top of this one, only about six hundred meters long. A brief down hill run, then onto the next climb, another seventeen plus percenter. This time around one thousand meters long. Eventually at the top of this one and now there was a great down hill run. This gave me a good chance to check out how the Cube would go on rough surfaces, which it did with ease. The shocks worked well, even though I didn't have enough air in them. This was an issue I rectified as soon as possible.

The general surface of the trail was rough, to extremely rough at times. Loose gravel with large rocks, ruts and some wonderful little creek crossings were the norm. What else appeared to be normal? The constant up down, up down, up down. As I progressed up the trail, with every down hill run, a longer and steeper incline waited for me.

The trip was meant to take around three and a bit hours. After many stops, rests and uphill walks, my three hours was nearly up...AND...I had only covered about seven or eight kilometres. I thought mountain biking was riding you bike in the mountains. Not hiking in the mountains whilst pushing a bike...lol.

I continued onward and what appeared to be never endingly upwards, and upwards and, yet again upwards. Are you starting to see a pattern here? My aching body was...

I reached my first turnoff in the trail. This was a bend where I kept following the Boundary Trail and it would join up to Brayshaw's Trail not far ahead. Now, the tree line appeared to be levelling out. So I pressed on and able to ride up some smaller ten percenters. But alas, this didn't last long, the hills turned into mountains once again, and I was off the bike pushing it.

I had now done eleven kilometres, I was low on water and not far from the Brayshaw"s turnoff. It appeared to flatten out again so I thought I'd go a little further. Then from out of nowhere this incline before me just made me gasp. I had to make a decision.

My decision was to turn around. I was in the middle of a very remote area with no phone service and little water. I didn't know what lay ahead. I didn't know how the trails would be, I didn't know if there was water around up there. It was here I chose wisdom. I knew there creeks behind with crystal clear water. I knew what I had done, and what I had to, yes, walk up...again. The devil you know so to speak...

I turned around, my food supply of peanut butter sandwiches, apples and bananas were all but gone. I was down to my last mouthful of water and the last creek I had crossed appeared as I rambled down a loosely covered hill. Ah, the water was so cold, it was like drinking it from a well chilled fridge. After I had a large drink, I filled my water bottles up and continued downwards, or was it upwards...I'd lost track. It didn't matter which way you went, you climbed.

I was now well into the afternoon when I stopped to take a photo. I had a ping on my phone as a message came through. I had phone service. I had told my wife I should be back at the cottage by 1:30 pm, so I took this time to ring and let her know my grief and that all was OK...well and truly knackered, but OK.
It was here I felt myself starting to bonk. As I hadn't been on the bike much in the past year, I had completely forgotten about this. I sat down in the shade of a small bushy tree, swatted horse/march flies and ate my last apple, and sipped slowly on what water I left. I knew I had another creek to cross, and by memory it wasn't too far into the distance.

So, next creek crossing after a much needed rest, I refilled the bottles again and continued up or down the mountain, I had completely lost track. I did, however, notice on the Garmin that the altitude was decreasing, or was that just because I was in a gully? Who knows...

FINALLY...I approached a familiar sign, I knew the car was just over the next hill, which turned out to be three more hills...but whose counting right? Not to be disheartened I pressed on, or should I say pushed on, and yes there it was, the old Pajero waiting for me in the sunshine.

It had reached well over thirty degrees on the trail and the car was rather warm inside, so  much so the remainder of my morning's coffee was still warm...sustenance...lol. I let the car idle as I mounted the bike onto the rack to cool it down inside, to cool me down immediately when I hopped inside. Mounting the bike was not easy, as every time I stopped the pesky flies kept landing and biting. My legs were burning more from the fly bites than the ride by the end of the day. It was great when you were moving, but once stopped you could hear them swarm in to take their pound of flesh.

It was a great ride though. The scenery was magnificent, although I would have liked to reach the top and check things out along the plateau. But I learned some valuable lessons that day...
1...how unfit and overweight I had become
2...that I have a habit of biting off more than I can chew
3...don't ever trust Google Maps. The total ride was just over twenty two kilometers, with one thousand meters of climbing. Instead of three hours, the ride took all day.

It was this very ride that imprinted something in my brain. How fit I was a little over twelve months ago compared to now. Yes, the knee prevented me from exercising, but it was my decision to sit and stuff my face with over sized meals and copious amounts of beer. It was here I changed, it was on this ride I knew what I had to do.

Would I do this ride again? Hell yes, in a heart beat. Will I again bite off more more than I can chew? Well a leopard can't change all it's spots.

Cheers guys, and as always, ride safe out there...