Tuesday, 9 March 2021
Planning The Future
Monday, 1 March 2021
When A Fail Is Not A Fail
What an eventful 2 days I had.
Firstly it was just bloody fantastic to be out on the bike for a trip. It seems like forever since I had done one.
Secondly, to be out in the fresh air, meeting some lovely people and camping on the concrete floor of a picnic hut is the stuff memories are made of.
I headed off from home about 7.00 am. It was already humid but there was the hint of a coolish breeze blowing.
I headed out my usual way, down through the paddock beside the airport, onto Silky Oak St and down Honours Rd. These roads I love because they're gravel, and they're quiet. Unfortunately illegal dumping is becoming a big issue down this way, very sad indeed.
I made my way onto Gordon's Rd and up onto Mahogany Creek Rd. The heat was starting to build up by now, and I was already well into my hydration bladder.
I tackled Goodwood Rd, one road that I hate. But as soon as I was able I moved to the fence line on the northern boundary.
I pedalled through the remnants of what looked like an old farm machinery track until I was at the entrance of Bingera National Park. I had found my way halfway through it on my previous attempt to Wongi.
I followed the 4wd track in, then turned south. The track was pleasantly smooth and dust free from the previous day's rain.
My handlebar roll holding solidly in place, I was enjoying myself immensely. A little further down the track I stopped for a bar and drink along with getting the drone out.
After a quick flying video shoot I made my first error of the day. I turn west too early. It wasn't long before I was arriving at familiar territory. It was where I had hiked through last year. It wasn't far, so no big deal. I turned around and headed back to where I had turned.
Back on track it wasn't long before the correct turn came up. Into the shade of the Aussie bush I went. It was lovely out of the sun. It had began to really heat up, and it wasn't even 10.00 am.
I eventually made it through to the Powerline Track and onto Foleys Rd. Now back onto the black top it was becoming really hot. It was already 34°C with the heat reflecting off the bitumen showing 42°C on the Garmin.
Making my way down Farnsfield Rd now I just slowed everything down. I wasn't concerned about pace, I just wanted to get through the day.
Now riding beside North Gregory State Forest the shade just looked so inviting. As slow as I had gone, and as much as I drank I had no energy left. I think this was around the 46 km mark.
I sat in the shade, no correction, I laid in the shade contemplating what to do. The Garmin had already shown upto 47.5°C. I still had around 15 km to get to Childers. I already had doubts about making it that far.
I searched on Google Maps for a place to set up a tent near where I was. There were plenty of tracks in the forest behind me. But it was only just on 11.00 am, surely I could make it somewhat further down the road.
I pulled up my big boy pants and straddled the bike once again. Somewhat refreshed, but not cool, I pedalled south heading for the Farnsfield Roller-coaster, a section of the road that was an up and down, up and down bit of road. The problem was that each up became a little steeper and longer than the last.
I eventually made it onto North Isis Rd with the Garmin now showing a scorching 49.5°C.
I persevered through the climbs along North Isis Rd, each one seemingly steeper than the last. I was walking and pushing the bike up hills by now with the gas tank riding on empty.
I stopped a lot laying in what little shade I could find and sipping on water. The water in my bladder was gone and the two rear bottles that become very hot, were now empty as well. I was onto the bottles on the front of the bike. These were cheap dual walled stainless steel bottles that I had purchased from Kmart some time back. WHAT! Cool Water! I couldn't believe it. The water in these bottles were still cool, I should have been drinking these.
I eventually made it to Showground Hill and didn't even attempt to ride it. Off and walk slow, and stop to gasp for breath every few meters, that was my plan.
There were clouds in the background and what looked like the appearance of a storm.
I made it to the top of the hill and into the rest area. Off with the helmet, shoes and whatever else was deemed socially acceptable. I laid back on the bench and sighed a deep sigh...ahhh!
It was already a foregone conclusion that I wouldn't make Wongi Waterholes now. There was still plenty of time left in the day, but the heat was relentless, and this was my concern. I was about to enter uncharted territory if I continued. The last thing I wanted was to be stuck in the bush somewhere suffering from heat stroke, I also had to consider the following day's return home, another scorcher was forcast.
The storm coming made it a little cooler with the breeze under the shade resembling air conditioning. I ate and I drank, and filled water bottles.
I was contemplating heading a little south of Childers to a rest area and set up camp behind the picnic shed, then heading home the same way the next day. But instead I hopped on the bike and made my way to Apple Tree Creek and set up camp for the night there.
It was still hot as the sun moved down well over the Yard Arm. It was way too hot for a tent, especially my single walled Tipinova.
I rolled out my groundsheet and sleeping mat on the concrete floor of the picnic hut which I had claimed for the night.
Changed now into some dry clothes I set out to make myself a coffee. A coolish breeze switched on and off and was far more taunting than refreshing.
Just before dark a fellow camper came over, introduced himself as Matt and invited me for dinner. Great timing, I was just about to boil some more water for a dehydrated meal. Steak, sausages and salad with a cold can of beer was far more appetising. They were a young family travelling around Australia in a converted bus. They were also joined by another couple who were doing the same.
We chatted for ages, they were really interested in my riding adventures, and in particular my little homemade metho stove.
Social time over it was time for bed. I was completely knackered. Apple Tree Creek isn't the best area to camp at. It is on the highway and being a Sunday night I knew it would be the start of the weekly truck traffic. But that was OK, I was tired, hot and just wanted to lay down.
Eventually a cool breeze started up and stayed. No mozzies made it a quick nod off. The trucks starting around 10.00 pm and woke me a few time through the night but it wasn't hard to get back to sleep.
The morning came around way too soon. There is a bird park opposite the rest area and the residents wasted no time in reminding me it was approaching dawn. I think the birds were noisier than the trucks.
I tossed and turned, rolled from one side to the other and drifted in and out of sleep for a while. But the local alarm clock just wouldn't snooze, so I drearily got up and started about boiling water for a much needed coffee.
Coffee brewing and porridge soaking I set about packing up in preparation for the ride home. It didn't take that long, I suppose this is one of the benefits of bikepacking and not setting up the tent.
Breakfast done with and dressed into my, still damp and stanky clothes, I was ready to head off for the day. It was only going to be around a 58 km ride compared to the 70 km the previous day.
My plan was to climb up onto the Isis Hwy and into the back of Cordalba past the Central Isis Mill. It was already hot, and extremely humid. From here I would make my way around to Promiseland Mountain Bike Park for my first test stop, approximately 20 km. I was hoping for some shade by going this way, but there wasn't much. Most of it was restricted to the sides of the road, not over it.
It had been ages since I had ridden this way, I had forgotten how scenic it was. Especially with the small amounts of rain we had had and with the deep red soil against the fresh green of newly sprouting sugar cane.
After going up hill and down dale for a while I made it to the trail head area where there was a big empty shaded picnic shed waiting for me. It was already well into the 30's and the sweat was pouring from me. I knew it was going to be another scorcher of a day, but I didn't expect so early.
Relaxing in the shade and making an early lunch, a cuppa and peanut butter on multi-grain wraps, a couple returned from riding the trails. Vic and Jemma came over and chatted whilst they enjoyed a cool drink at the table beside me. We chatted about cycling, my adventures, present and past, and then seeing my cameras asked me about vlogging. I gave them my YouTube channel details. They then talked about how they would love to ride from where they lived to Bundaberg. We then discussed various routes they could take. It never ceases to amaze me how you meet great people on the road, no matter how big the trip is.
Vic and Jemma headed off and I was left there alone. I enjoyed a few moments of quiet then packed up my food and gear and got going once again.
Now on Phillips Rd I had 16 km of gravel to enjoy. I also had, for the first time on the trip, a tail wind. Tail wind or not the heat still pelted down upon me. 12 km in I had to find shade just to cool down. I wasn't tired, just extremely hot. I didn't want heat stroke, as yet again the Garmin showed the high 40's on the temperature gauge.
After about 20 minutes in the shade I pushed off again. About 4 km done and I was on the Isis Hwy heading for Bundaberg. With 22 km to go now, surely I'd make it easily in one run, especially with the tail wind.
Well, that plan didn't end well. As I cruised the relatively quiet highway the heat just kept pelting down on me. It seemed even hotter then the day before reflecting off the bitumen. I had tobstop again after about 8 km.
Yes, this trip did end eventually end after three more stops. The funny thing was that around 6 km out the wind changed and I was now pushing into a south easterly heading. Just what I needed.
But this is cycling for you. We can't control things like the weather etc. Sometimes even our plans become out of our control, such as mine did.
When bikepacking or bicycle touring, there's no race, there's nothing to prove. It is just you and your surroundings. It is the simplicity of turning one pedal at a time, stopping when you have to no matter how many times, and getting there eventually.
I could count this trip as a fail, as I didn't reach my planned destination. I know it's an old cliche, but it's true, it's the journey not the destination. Sometimes like a sailing boat on the water we just need to change tack.
After just over two weeks back on the bike, and persevering through extreme heat, I was extremely happy with my efforts. I had a ball getting out touring again, even if just for a night. That's not a fail, that's a win in my books.