Musings

Sunday, June 21, 2015

Mount Walker

We were unsure about one or two sections on next week’s “Three Gaps” social ride, so today my friends kindly agreed to help me double check them. Just to keep us on our toes, I added an extra loop through Mount Walker.

Despite the impossibly blue skies and stunning sunlight, the cold morning air cut through our gloves and jackets.

We needed a couple of kilometers of steady pedalling from the Mulgowie Pub to comfortably warm up.

Just over five minutes later we left the paved road and headed up Red Gap Road. Each September this dirt track becomes part of the “Epic” mountain bike race where hundreds of riders compete for glory as they struggle over some of the toughest terrain in the area.

Today we were taking a more sedate pace, and riding it in the opposite direction that the racers would take.

At the bottom of the climb I quickly stopped to remove my jacket, and made friends with one of the locals.

Despite repeated calls to “Go home”, our canine friend couldn’t resist running behind a flock of mountain bikers trying to round them up.

“Red Gap” is a pass over the Little Liverpool Range which extends north from the Great Divide all the way to Plainland on the Warrego Highway. It’s hard work riding up the hill.

Simon suggested that it’s sometimes better to walk sections of a course before riding it

One things for sure – it’s usually more fun plummeting down a hill than it is grinding up it.

At the bottom of the hill we kept heading east along Stokes Crossing Road.

Although the map says it’s a “Road” – it’s little more than a couple of tyre tracks in the grass.

In some places, the tyre tracks disappeared and we had to follow cattle tracks.

I’m grateful for the wonderful network of road reserves around South East Queensland. They’ve taken us to some spectacular places.

They’re full of surprises – which is fine if you’re careful and don’t mind walking through some tricky sections…

… or just powering through them.

In one or two spots there were no tracks and we could only follow the fence posts through the tall grass.

At one point we had to back track because the wash-outs were too deep for us to scramble through.

(Photo: Tony Ryan)

For most of its length, the road reserve was clearly marked with fences on either side.

As we pushed through the grass, the odd flat top of Mount Walker grew larger.

With a feeling of relief we finally emerged at Mount Walker, at the eastern end of the “road”. Russel, who grew up near here, pointed out the peaks that were familiar to him.

At the top of each rolling hill we enjoyed views of the impressive turrets of the Great Dividing Range to the south.

I never tire of riding through these beautiful plains – it’s good for the soul.

We wondered how a real estate agent would describe this gem. A renovator’s delight? A rustic weekend getaway? Perhaps a “Room with a view”>

Around the half-way point of the ride we headed west, following the Bicentennial National Trail (BNT) towards Mount Beau Brummell.

After a quick stop at the Mount Mort Cemetery, we started the second major climb of the day up Edwards Gap. This was a steeper route back over the Little Liverpool Range to the Laidley valley.

Whenever I see the friendly yellow triangular BNT markers I think about travellers who have come this way en route between Healesville in Victoria to Cooktown in Far North Queensland.

We eventually made it to the top of Edwards Gap, rolling through the grassy hilltop at the summit.

I’ve pushed a bike UP this hill before, and think that plummeting down this section of Edwards Gap is much more fun than struggling up it.

Paul described it as “sketchy”. I’d probably throw in the word “fun” as an appropriate adjective – provided you keep your weight back and treat it with respect.

Back in the Laidley Valley, it took us little more than ten minutes to ride back to Mulgowie along the paved road.

(Photo: Tony Ryan)

We rode a total of 48km in just over 4 hours.

During that time we climbed almost 850 metres in vertical ascent, and I burned about 2,100 kcal.

I’ll rate this ride 7 out of 10 on the tough-o-meter.

Thanks Becca, Darb, Paul, Russel and Simon for another fun day out on the bikes.

Bicentennial National Trail

Laidley

Social Ride Invitation: “Three Gaps” XC…

Cunningham’s Campsite

The Mulga Pub

Sunday, June 14, 2015

Ingoldsby

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“I wonder what’s at the end of this valley?”

“How far could I get if I follow that road?”

Some weeks I gaze intently into a map and almost magically my friends and I are transported to that place several days later to answer my questions.

We started our adventure at Ropely State School – a place I’d never heard of until recently. Dodging friendly sheep and chickens we set off down the road towards Ingoldsby.

Last week, Becca and I had ridden out here with a few other friends to test out a few different roads. Mountain bikers prefer dirt over paved roads most of the time, and we wanted to minimize the amount of black-top that we would have to ride on.

This week we came back with Darb, Russel and Jason, enjoying the crunchy gravel back roads in the remote hills of the upper Lockyer Valley.

Despite the overnight rain in Brisbane, the morning had served us up yet another gorgeous winters day. “Just turn up” I muttered to myself. The adventurers mantra never lets me down.

As we pedaled up the gentle gradient of Ingoldsby Road, the hills slowly rose on either side of us.

Fascinating signs adorned cheerful houses.

Eventually we reached the end of the valley. I’d spoken to land owners Jim and Eileen a week earlier, and they kindly gave us permission to follow the road through their front gate and up the mountain.

Eileen met us while she was working in her stunning garden, and told us how Jim’s grandparents moved to this spot over a century ago. They built the original farmhouse out of Silky Oak trees which grew thickly along the banks of Wonga Creek which flows down the mountain here.

After a brief chat with Eileen, we rode past the farmhouse and up the mountain.

This is the start of the “Mistake Mountains” – a spur of mountains which runs south towards the Great Divide. Early explorers mistook these mountains for the Great Divide, climbed them only to discover they still hadn’t crossed the Great Dividing Range. Considering some parts of this range tower over 1,000 metres above sea level, that was quite a big mistake.

And so we started climbing the Mistake Mountains. The well-made road ascended for over six kilometres with a consistent gradient of between tent o fifteen percent. It was hard work.

At one or two spots we got off to push, and enjoy the view.

Other times we just hardened up, and mashed the pedals as we slowly climbed the range.

Towards the top, we encountered dozens of abandoned cars, a bus or two, and a caravan.

(Photo: Tony Ryan)

The god Mercury looked out at us from the bonnet of an old Rover. These cars may have had stories to tell – but no one was telling them today.

This one brought back childhood memories.

“Have I ridden in this bus before?” I asked myself.

As with most climbs we attempt, the view at the top was worth the effort.

Through the trees we could make out Left Hand Branch Road – part of the Bicentennial National Trail which runs from Laidley Gap to Mount Sylvia.

To the northwest we could see forever. Some hills looked familiar, and I imagined they still bore tyre tracks from our previous rides.

The ride back down the hill was intense.

What seemed like ages on the way up unwound in a frantic blur on the way back down.

As if they had been holding off until we were safe, the clouds slowly closed in, spraying us with a light drizzle.

Although we had climbed to over 850 metres and rolled back down again, we decided we weren’t done yet, and pointed our bikes up Zischke Road – another steep climb.

It was only half as high as our trip up the Mistake Mountains, but the road was steeper.

Becca left us in her wake as she powered up the hill.

The rest of us followed some distance behind.

We had climbed this hill last week and got lost. This week I was determined not to leave the road reserve as we followed faint tyre tracks through the grass.

We didn’t get lost this time, but the tracks were just as steep and rough.

Old fence posts disappeared up the hill reassuring us we were still on the road reserve.

On Rockside Road, at the bottom of the hill, we met Hayden. He was surprised to see five crazy mountain bikers bouncing down the hill towards his house, and came over to say “G’day”.