July 21, 2013 by foonbikeride

The long, hard, dusty road.

Leichardt Falls to Boroloola

The long, dusty, corrugated roads.

So I’m riding down this road. It’s a beautiful afternoon and the sun is shining that awesome golden colour that it does on certain days. I’m dreaming about the bakery treats I’ll soon be eating and life is fine. That is until I have a head on with a kangaroo. I don’t know about you, but one does not expect to have a head on with a kangaroo when one is riding a bike. Yep, Jude happily rides passed the roo and scares it, so that it jumps out onto the road in front of me. We see each other, it skids, I scream and slam on the breaks, and we collide – the dirty salmon hits the kangaroo in the rump. Luckily all three of us survive unharmed – the roo, the bike and me.

The hot artesian spring at Burketown.

In comparison, the rest of the ride into Burketown was pretty uneventful. We spent most of the time talking about all the nice things we would soon be eating. Being from Melbourne we love good food. We have been somewhat deprived of late, considering the main delicacies available out here would make the heart foundation tick explode from obesity. For hundreds of kilometres, we had heard rumour of a bakery food oasis in Burketown, and it didn’t disappoint. We had two pies each and a can of lemonade. This was followed up by lamingtons and berry cheesecake. Yes, we were very Australian that day. Heavenly.

Our first Darwin sign.

Our indulgence was also fuelled by the knowledge that the next day we would be heading off on the first of our two long distance sections that would have little to no services. Despite the long distances, intermittent dirt roads, the heat, and the road trains, the Savannah Way has so far been smooth sailing. I must admit that I have at times been a little daunted by the next 800km. Corrugated dirt road the whole way, would my bum and body survive? Would we have access to enough water, as there was no wet this year? Would all of our preparations be enough? This would be the first real test of our outback abilities. Then I had a flashback to woman who cried out hysterically “their mad!” as we left Leichardt Falls. I laughed and knew I was ready.

Some of the corrugations.

I wont bore you with the blow by blow details of the next six days and 500ks, as a lot of it was hard riding in the dirt, dust and heat. Our route took us through Doomagee and Hell’s Gate, over the NT border, through a valley and many rivers, passed Robinson River and on to Borroloola. I will tell you about the little things that made the ride worthwhile, amusing or just plain annoying.

The NT border.

Nerida, Tony and Graham.

The nomads. Grey or otherwise, the nomads are a permanent fixture on the Savannah Way. When they roar passed me on the dirt road, at 80km/hr in their 4WD towing a caravan, showering me in dust and gravel, I’m not a fan. And while they have no consideration for our comfort and wellbeing, they actually wave to us and expect us to wave back – I shake my head and say under my breath “I don’t think so dickhead”. Fortunately, the generosity, humour and joy de vivre of the others, makes me forget the rest. While pedaling, we have had many people stop to chat and offer us water. During the evenings we have had the pleasure of company by communal fires and have been spoilt by a handful of very generous souls. Marcela and Joe sustained us with apple cider and home made banana cake, Sue and Morrie made us endless cups of tea at Hell’s Gate, Bevan gifted us a toast fork for using on the fire, Lydia and Toby gifted us fresh trevally and salmon for our dinners, Graham and Gilda made us freshly ground coffee, Nerida and Tony spoilt us thoroughly with oranges, cheese, beer and dinner, as did Susan, Tom, Cliff and Pam who fulfilled my one month craving for watermelon, and cared for our every need at the side of the Robinson River. We are constantly in awe of the generosity towards us and thank everyone.

Camping with a fire nightly.

Happy Birthday Pam!

The lord lovers. Not far out of Burketown a 4WD pulled up next to me. In it were 5 people all dressed in neatly pressed shirts and all wearing Akubra hats. Odd I thought, but who am I to judge. I’m dressed in thermals riding across the dessert. We chatted for a bit and like us they were heading to Doomagee. As they were about to pull off, I was asked if I would like a magazine to read in my spare time. Why not I thought? Why not? Because I was handed two copies of the Jehovas Witness magazine. Onwards Christian soldiers I thought. On the bright side, they did make great kindling for the fires we had the next few nights.

The Doomagee Shire.

Aboriginal communities. I can say that racism and third world standards of living are still a constant presence in northern Queensland and NT. Perceptions, even those few based in truth, can lead to prejudices that are hard to break. Everyone had advice to give us, and most of it was negative about the people and places. We didn’t know what to expect, but like with most advice, it should be taken with a large grain of salt. As we rode towards Doomagee and Borroloola, all the locals driving cars smiled and waved enthusiastically (we love it when people are excited by what we are doing). They were also the most considerate drivers, who gave us a wide berth when passing and slowed right down to not shower us in rocks and dust.

Happy our bikes haven’t ended up like that one.

Doomagee is a dry community, so the locals drink at an area known as ‘the family tree’. I must say that I felt as if I had ridden into a Mad Max movie. The area had recently been burnt, and there were thousands of beer cans and bottles strewn all over the ground. Thankfully, Doomagee township was not like a Mad Max movie. Despite the poor quality housing, that also exists in the Borroloola communities, new communal infrastructure was to been seen throughout the town. We didn’t meet all that many locals in town, but the previous night we had met Cyril. He had come to see where we were, as he had driven passed us earlier in the day and wanted to have a chat with the two girls on bikes. Not a sight often seen in the area, as he informed us. He was great fun and we chatted for ages. Our experience of aboriginal communities was brief but overall, positive.

The Calvert River crossing.

You can see the effects of the wet on the trees around the rivers.

Crocodiles. All rivers in northern Queensland and NT have warning signs about crocodiles. So far we have seen only one from a distance while we were having a wash in one of the many river crossings we have traversed. I’m always super cautious whenever we go for a dip, cross any river or camp anywhere near water. When selecting which side of the tent to sleep on, I’m always torn about who should have the side closest to the river. Do I want to be the first to be eaten, or do I let Jude be the one who is chomped on first? Jude says I have ‘crocodile paranoia’. I know I shouldn’t be as worried as her, as they always eat the German’s first, but I am.

Half day rest day at Calvert Creek.

Another river crossing.

The road. It tickles my fancy that this highly corrugated piece of dirt track, with numerous bulldust and sand pits, that has many river crossings, and rarely has any upkeep, is considered the National Highway 1 – the same as the Princes, Pacific and Bruce Highways. The road on the Queensland side is by far the worst, and I did feel as if I was in a milkshake maker for most of the journey. We have pedaled on quite a few dirt roads thus far, but nothing compared to this. Our normal speed halved, purely due to the shit quality of the road. Then on the last day we decided to push hard, and cycle 105km, to make it to Borroloola by that evening. We reached the Spring Creek Station turn-off, and were feeling tired and hot. Another 28ks seemed like a lot, but the road hadn’t been all that bad. BIG MISTAKE! This was by far the worst section of road I have ever ridden on. The roads in Timor Leste looked like new highways compared to this. Most of the time you can pick a line of the road that is better than the rest, but not this one. 28km of non-stop, body jolting corrugations, with gravel and big rocks as a base. My body, and especially my bum, felt every metre it bounced and grinded over. An ice-cream, a hot shower, a rest day tomorrow, four beers and an ‘all you can eat’ dinner, has “just” made that last 28km worthwhile.

Nice scenery while riding the road.

More dirt…

Jude is happy with an ‘all you can eat’ meal.

My bum. Last time I wrote about my bum, it had taken revenge on the saddle by breaking it. Well the saddle has retaliated many times over. You would think after three months of riding I would have developed callouses as thick as Buddha’s under the Bodhi Tree. This is not the case. Unfortunately the more I pedal the less padding I have to cushion the area, and some days my saddle sores make me wish that I had some Lignocaine gel or EMLA patches to put on my bum – especially with the corrugations. Jude took a photo for me the other day and I almost fainted at what I saw. I’m hoping that maybe a few more years of riding will help me reach nirvana on a bike seat.

So there you have it, the highs and lows of cycle touring. I have really been challenged, but I would not change our new life for anything. This is still by far the best thing I have ever done in my life. With that thought and all our love, I leave you to yours, Astrid xx

Cooking up the fish we were gifted.

July 12, 2013 by foonbikeride

Turning Left

Townsville (Alligator Creek campground) to Leichardt Falls via the Savannah Way

Leichardt Falls

I’m sitting in a place called Leichardt Falls, the sun is shining softly though the trees (its about 27 degrees) and the water on the stove is just coming to a boil. It’s one of those leisurely rest days, where breakfast blends into lunch and time is marked by cups of tea. We are camped on the top of what is a waterfall in the wet season, overlooking the Leichardt River. Kites glide in the sky high above us and occasionally another camper’s voice carries to us on the breeze. It’s peaceful here and after doing 117km of dirt road yesterday, it’s a perfect place for a rest. But I am jumping ahead and will go back to the beginning of our time in the outback.

Choice spot, Leichardt Falls

The epic left turn was finally upon us as we pedalled out of Alligator Creek, bidding farewell to Ash and Sophie with plans to meet again on the road or in Darwin. This turn inland towards Darwin was always going to be the most challenging part of the trip and at times has intimidated me. For weeks we weren’t even sure which road we would take, just that at some point we needed to chuck a left. But after a bit of research, map studying and date and kilometer crunching, it was decided we would turn left at Townsville on the Hervey Range Development road, followed by the Gregory Development road and onto the Savannah way at The Lynd. This would take us through Einsleigh and Forsayth and then up to Georgetown where we would stay on the Savannah way (which connects Cairns to Broome) until Mataranka (hot springs!) where we would finally turn north up the Stuart highway, cycling via Kakadu to Darwin.

The epic left turn!

top of the Hervey range

The actual left turn wasn’t that epic, as we found ourselves cycling through Townsville suburbs, but it didn’t take long for the buildings to disappear and the land to subtly change; the appearance of termite mounds and a generally drier landscape. As we cycled, the Hervey Range grew larger and we were mildly alarmed, as we had been warned that we would need to push our bikes in order to ascend. This might be true if the idea of cycling 5kms causes you anxiety (exercise seems a foreign concept to a lot of the Queenslanders we have met recently) but for us it was easy, nowhere near as hard as Eungella! At the top of the range we had a great view right to the ocean and to our delight a camping spot presented itself just another 2km down the road, right opposite to some Heritage Tearooms.

Heritage tea rooms on top of the Hervey Range

Giant scones of joy

cycling up the Hervey Range

Tearooms are a bit like camping at the base of a mountain you can climb up. You can’t just camp next to a place that makes Devonshire tea and not partake. So we patiently waited till 9am to eat the biggest scones I have ever seen. I was almost full. The day was spent climbing the rolling hills that are the northern end of the Great dividing range, carrying an extra 30L of water as there was nothing between us and the Bluewater springs roadhouse, about 115km away. Our camp was made 6km from the Gregory road turn off at what could be interpreted as a rest stop. It had a table, so we were happy. We built a fire and watched the super moon rise over a clear sky. A brilliant start to our outback journey.

the ‘supermoon’

a table is always a luxury, camping on the Hervey Ranage road

At The Lynd where we joined the Savannah Way

The next day we were up early and pedalling keenly towards the roadhouse. I have decided to embrace all the greasiness associated with roadhouse food in my mind. So I was imagining all the horrible things I could eat (yes, I am totally food obsessed) and was rather disappointed to find a lack of greasy food on display on our arrival. On our way to the roadhouse we had ridden through a lot of roadwork and gotten some mixed responses from the workers; from blank stares of confusion, encouragement, and being videoed on i phones. It’s funny, people either completely get what we are doing, and why, or just think we are totally crazy. The people that get it, don’t really need an explanation, and the people that don’t, probably will never understand. I don’t really care if people think we are crazy (although it does get a bit tiring hearing it over and over again) it’s all a matter of perspective. People that buy big houses they can’t really afford and fill it with stuff seem crazy to me. Anyway, not long after leaving the roadhouse we were chased down by a farmer on a quad bike who wanted to have a chat. We told him our story and he told us about farming and travelling through Africa in the 1970’s. Its those kind of interactions that are so unique to cycle touring which I really treasure.

It was hot and the road kept throwing up hill after hill and the rolling resistance was high, making our progress slow and painful. Lunch time raised our spirits as some kind travellers (who totally got what we were doing) gifted us a loaf of bread (we had not been able to buy any) and we chatted with them and their kids for a while. All this improved my mood and then thankfully the road deteriorated, which meant it was smoother and faster for us. We reached Greenvale after nearly 120km where we were greeted by a myriad of people who had passed us or who we had chatted to during the day on the road. Then it was time for a much needed shower (I was covered in a thin layer of grime). This was followed by an equally important beverage(s) at the pub.

the mirror is great for traffic, especially while listening to tunes!

Due to some issues with my rohloff, which were sorted after a few phone calls to Commuter Cycles, we left Greenvale a little later than ideal. Lunch was at the Oasis roadhouse, where the kind woman behind the counter gave us an icecream after she heard we were cycling to Darwin. Here we also filled our water and hit the dirt road. It wasn’t too bad and we made camp about 30km down the road at a river, built a fire and prepared to relax in the quiet of the outback. Then the nomads with caravans and a generator turned up. My pet hate of this trip so far is definitely the hum of a generator in surroundings that would otherwise be serene. I can deal with it if it’s for a short while and quiet, but these were not. Still, even generators can’t spoil the fact that we now leave the fly off the tent which means every night we fall asleep while gazing at the starlight sky. Definitely something I will treasure forever.

Jude and the Green Fairy v’s the road train

We rolled out of camp and bumped up the road until we reached the very small (pop. 32 people) town of Einsleigh. The pub was the main feature of the town and we met some friendly locals who did their best to try and convince us to stay. We even got offered a job! I don’t think they see many women out here. If we hadn’t our Darwin goal, I reckon it would have been fun for a week or two. Instead we went for a nudie swim in the beautiful Copperfield gorge (totally worth it and free, unlike Cobbold gorge) and then bid everyone farewell. I have come to realize that 2 beers in the afternoon doesn’t lead to pleasant cycling afterwards. We slowly began climbing the Newcastle range as well, which added to my generalised, but thankfully brief, hating of everything. Soon the light started turning golden and we searched for somewhere hidden to camp. This part of the day really is magnificent in this country, the harshness goes out of the sun and the land is bathed in soft light after the sun sinks below the horizon. It always makes me feel at peace and is relief from the heat of the day. That night we discovered the excellent feeling of nudie stretching to the setting sun.

Copperfield Gorge, Einsleigh

Afternoon beer, Einsleigh Hotel

The road became bitchumen as we got closer to our next small town, Forsayth, the following morning. I was having a tough time of it and was feeling more hungry than normal. Most of the ride I spent fantasising about cold rock icecream. What I wouldn’t have done for a delicious icecreamy treat! Luckily things took a turn for the better when we arrived in Forsayth. There we met Graham and Nicky who ran a bed and breakfast in a charming turn of last centuary Queenslander. Think; large balcony surrounding the house, cool breezy rooms and really beautiful architecture. An oasis in the outback and a unique find for out here. I thought I can picture myself sipping beer on that porch. We had just checked in to have a cup of tea but when Graham offered us a really cheap rate to stay the night it didn’t take us long to decide an afternoon off would do us good. I did spend the afternoon sipping beer and reading my book, but Astrid got to work pruning the hedge for Nicky because she has been missing gardening so much. An added benefit of being in Forsayth that day was that the Savannahlander (a train that runs from Cairns to Forsayth) was turning up in town and that locals could go on it while it did a loop and turned around. So Astrid and I and a bunch of local kids leaped on the train with glee while it did it’s turning around. We were then treated to the most delicious dinner thanks to Graham. It was so exciting to have vegetables and salad again! There has not been much in the realm of fresh produce out here so far. It really was a treat staying with Nicky and Graham who are both such wonderful people.

Graham and Nicky and their beautiful B&B, Forsayth.

Loving the gardening, Forsayth

The Savannahlander, old time train from Cairns to Forsayth.

We reached Georgetown in the morning the next day and stocked up on fresh produce and water and headed onward to Gilbert River, 75km down the road. Unfortunately Gilbert river had no water in it and the rest stop was nothing more than a dust bowl. We had planned to have a much needed full rest day here but soon decided to push on the next day to Croydon. Luckily Croydon was the goods. Something I have forgotten to mention earlier is that my mum has been sending “care packages” to us along to way, consisting of her amazing dehydrated wares and usually a few extra treats. In Croydon we were delighted to pick up another package and especially excited to see the 4 blocks of Lindt chocolate we has been sent. I may have accidently eaten an entire block in about 10 mins. The caravan park in Croydon was cheap, with free laundry, “beer and bullshit” around the fire at 5pm, and a pool. Rob, who manages the place was a top bloke and he along with some of the other gentlemen convinced us to come to the pub (which had just reopened that day post a scandal and the publican being made to leave town) for “two beers”. Somehow that turned into about seven.

Cows eat cars!

loving a rest day, Croydon

Croydon Hotel

On this trip I have really glimpsed another way of life, of taking the slow road and finding a peaceful existence in amongst the rush of modern life. There are people out here who have made the road their home, who stop at weeks for places because they meet people they like or find a place they are particularly fond of. They have no real end date or destination and I feel like that may be the ultimate freedom. There were three guys at Croydon that we met that were like that and it was a pleasure to spend time with them over cups of tea on our rest day. We also met a young guy, Liam who has been hitch hiking around Australia for the last 16 months or so. He had so many interesting stories and like us has the distinct impression, contrary to popular belief, that most people in the world aren’t rapists or serial killers. Although I don’t really feel like we are rushing I think we are both inspired to explore Australia at an even slower pace in the future.

Jabiru

After Croydon a strong tail wind helped us across the flat Savannah land 128km further west to Leichardt Lagoon. This was a friendly Grey nomad city and we were greeted with collective curiosity and then received some wonderful hospitality from our neighbors. They encouraged us to use their stove and gave us some red wine, which we drank while watching the sunset with them. The only downside was falling asleep to the hum of generators.

Normanton train station

Normanton was only 26km or so up the road so we headed there the next day to pick up supplies, make some phone calls and use the internet. They have a truly great information Centre and library with really reasonably priced wifi, which has been extremely hard to find in Australia. I won’t bother starting on my abysmal wifi in Australia rant. We even ran into two guys who are travelling around Australia on postie bikes for ‘save the children’. Running errands in towns always inevitably takes longer than desired, so it wasn’t until the afternoon that we rolled out of town. A few k’s down the road we hit the dirt which was to be our friend for the next 120km or so. Towards the end of the afternoon we visited Burke and Wills camp 119, their second last camp before the Gulf. It was a slightly eerie place and had me reflecting on the bravery and ignorance of the early European explorers. It felt too weird camping at the 119 site so we found a spot near the river about 3km away.

the guys on postie bikes

Normanton

Big Croc, Normanton. Modelled on a real sized croc!!

Burke and Wills camp 119

We always try and leave early but even if we set our alarm for 5.30am, it still usually takes us around 2 hours to get moving. This is partly because packing our panniers is slightly like playing tetras but also because we like fitting in meditation and a cup of tea before we leave. So yesterday we left not really expecting to make it all the way to the falls as the going was pretty rough, lots of corrugations and the afternoon heat is quite wearing too. One of the nice things on these more remote dirt roads is that we have had many nomads, and travellers in general, pull up next to us on the road and ask if we need any food or water. We even met one couple who had heard about us in Artherton and someone else who did a u turn so that they could get their photo taken with us. It seems we are some kind of minor celebrities! Although the day was tough, somehow we ended up making it to Leichardt Falls and we were immensely rewarded for our effort. It really is a special spot.

Leichardt Falls

So next for us is Burketown where we hear rumours of a splendid bakery. Our crossing of the outback is going swimmingly so far. I am enjoying the vast beauty of the land. It really is a different Australia out here and the people that have made this part of the world their home, certainly have to deal with a lot of things we never think of in the cities; huge distances between services, terrible roads, un-passable roads (in the wet), no phone reception, hours for any kind of emergency services and huge costs. The price of food out here is immense! One refreshing thing that I have noticed is the lack of commericalisation. Aside the obligatory XXXX Gold signs, there really are no chain fast food joints, no supermarkets, no pokies. Both of us are in good spirits, if a little tired. It’s hotter and rougher out here and even though we are still loving it, we are looking forward to some weeks off the bike in Darwin.

Till next time.

Love

Jude

ps there are way too many photos of me! Going to steal the camera off Astrid for next time! (:

July 2, 2013 by foonbikeride

For the love of Bruce!

Gladstone to Townsville (Alligator Creek Campground)

Gotta love riding!

We are sitting with the ladies, the kettle is on, the tunes are playing in the background, and the bush turkeys and wallabies are milling around. We woke with the sunrise, meditated under a tree and have had an early morning nudie swim in the rock pools. Today is an auspicious day – it’s the midwinter solstice, Jani for Latvians, Pee on the Earth day and the day before we take our “big left”. Yes, tomorrow we turn left and start the desert leg of our journey!

So grab yourselves a cuppa, a beer or a glass of wine, and I’ll fill you in on the adventures of the last two weeks. They have been a lovely mix of long days in the saddle and rest days exploring beautiful places. We left Gladstone and the positive energy of Matt from A1 cycles, and crossed into heavy industry and noisy transport. We have learnt to block out the noise and drivers by listening to music or podcasts while doing the ks. I’m learning about the amazing world of permaculture and Jude is getting better acquainted with world history.

A cheeky wine to celebrate our anniversary.

We stopped for the night at the Raglan Tavern and celebrated our 3 and a half year anniversary with a pub meal and a bottle of wine. The wine (and some earplugs) helped with our sleeping, as we were camped about 15m from the Bruce Hwy and 30m from the railway line. The next morning we crossed the Tropic of Capricorn and covered the 55ks to Rockhampton in record time. We lunched in the botanical gardens and then had a look around town. Everyone had told us that Rocky was a hole not worth visiting, but we found it to be a beautiful town with stunning old buildings and a friendly vibe. We also loved the random cow statues and that it was a public holiday due to the Rockhampton show. It’s amazing what Australians will give themselves a public holiday for.

Crossing the Tropic of Capricorn.

Riding passed the beautiful old buildings of Rockhampton.

We also deserved a public holiday from the bikes, so we continued on to the beachside town of Yeppoon. Turned out to be not really our kind of place, but we spent a couple of days eating, reading, swimming at the beach, and sharing wine and great conversation with new friends Ann and Tibor. We circled back to Rocky along the coast road, taking in the stunning ocean views, swimming at the beaches and eating tubs of ice-cream in one sitting. It’s amazing the things that you can eat when you cycle for 6 hours a day! Back in Rocky we explored the local art gallery, hung out at the library (to use their free WiFi) and had a beer at the gorgeous Criterion hotel.

Sunset at Yeppoon.

Paragliders at Yeppoon.

Going for a ride on the beach at Emu Park.

Yum, a 1litre tub of frozen yoghurt!

We had decided a few days earlier that we would catch a train from Rocky to Mackay. Not a decision one makes easily when on a quest to ride to Scotland. But we wanted to spend more time exploring nicer places in Queensland rather than pushing out the ks on the Bruce Hwy. In addition, everything that we had read and heard from cyclists and drivers, indicated that this is the worst stretch of the Bruce Hwy by far. The alternative route was desolate, full of ghost towns, memories of backpacker murders and road trains. Neither option seemed appealing. So much to Jude’s delight, as she loves trains, we spent a few hours heading north faster that we would have on the bikes. Arriving at Mackay at 2am we were tired and in need of more sleep. The station master was a lady with one of those ‘cat’s bum’ faces, and needless to say that when we asked if we could sleep in the corner of the station till sunrise, her mouth puckered even further and a disdainful ‘no’ was directed towards us.

Jude is excited by our train trip.

Sneaky camping in Mackay

It’s a strange feeling riding through a town you don’t know at 2:30 in the morning. Some stealth camping was performed at the local information centre, and later that morning we explored the town of Mackay. Most places were closed due to the Queens birthday holiday so we headed west along the Pioneer Valley. It was a beautiful afternoon of riding through the cane fields and small towns, surrounded by the rivers and mountains further along. I’m not usually a fan of monocultures, but the cane shining in the afternoon sun was picturesque. The bottom third was a golden colour, the middle third a vivid green and the tops a stunning mauve.

The sugar cane fields on the way to Finch Hatton gorge.

We spent the next couple of nights at the stunning rainforest campground near the Finch Hatton Gorge. We again spent our days eating, reading, skinny-dipping in the pristine creeks and waterholes (‘clothing optional’ read the sign and we needed no encouragement), exploring the gorge, and enjoying the company of the awesome people camped around us. We had a communal campfire, and when it was raining we sat around in Dave and Eli’s ‘Taj Mahal’ tent with candles and incense burning.

A nudie swim in the beautiful creek.

We love it!

Swimming in the rockpools of Finch Hatton Gorge.

A river crossing at Finch Hatton Gorge.

It had drizzled consistently for the last few days, and on the morning we left, the rain really set in. The picturesque landscape of a few days back was transformed into a vision of matt grey. Further up the valley, out of the grey, loomed the warning sign that the next 4.5ks was steep. And steep it was. I remember being sore, soaked through to my undies, and charging on hoping that the top would come sooner rather than later. Since then, we have run into people who drove passed us that day, and all of them commented on how we were powering up the hill, big smiles on our wet faces and seeming to not have a care in the world. By the time we got to the campsite everything was wet, we cooked our food in the toilet shelter (being the only place out of the rain) and laughed at the way Queensland presents itself. “Sunshine State” – I don’t think so, and the latest “The Smart State” – even less so!

The steep climb sign on the way to Eungella.

Cooking at the toilet block at the campsite in the rain.

It did finally stop raining.

We slept in till 7 the next morning and could not believe it when we put our heads outside the tent – blue sky!!! A leisurely breakfast of pancakes and tea, was followed by a 17km hike through the Eungella National Park. We were in greenie heaven! Trees, palms, ferns, fungi, and more shades of green than Derwent could ever release in a pencil colour. From the lookout we could see all the way down the Pioneer Valley and the road we had cycled up. On the way back to our home for the night, we spotted some platypus and turtles in the creek. Awesome!

The beautiful Eungella National Park.

The beautiful Eungella National Park.

Looking down the Pioneer Valley.

The beautiful Eungella National Park.

A platypus.

To quote an old saying – what goes up, must come down. The same goes with cycling hills, and it sure was fun!!! We stopped for morning tea at the most gorgeous little café where we indulged ourselves on tasty treats to fuel us for the long ride ahead. We spent the day riding through more cane fields shining in the sun, and dirt tracks through rainforests. We ate lunch by a cute little creek and had the mandatory nudie swim. I don’t think the big smile left my face the whole day – by far my favourite day of riding in Queensland so far.

The crazy road we pedalled up and flew down.

Riding the back roads.

Cane, cane and more cane.

And more cane…

Woke the next morning happy that we had not been found by the bogans who were driving drunk through the dirt back roads during the night. Ah Queensland, the smart state. We were also very excited, as today was the day that we would be catching up with friends in Airlie Beach. We did a big push to Proserpine and relaxed on the couches of the Whitsunday Gold coffee plantation sipping lattes in the sun. It was difficult to leave and pedal the last 25ks into Airlie, but the catch up with Ash, Soph, Eli and Dave was priceless. We pitched camp together and then headed down to the beach for some cheeky afternoon beers. Airlie is a backpacker town, and is really geared towards getting everyone very drunk. I can’t remember the last time I bought a jug of beer for $8, but that set the momentum for the night. Much to our delight we also caught up with Rich and Justin, friends from Melbourne who were in Airlie for the week.

Sunrise on the backroads.

Jude fuelled by coffee and custard cream filled croissant at the Whitsunday Gold coffee plantation.

Beers at the beach with Eli, Soph, Dave and Ash.

Besides drinking quite a bit of beer, I think we had our biggest day of eating as well. Jude figured out that in the space of 24 hours she alone ate a huge bowl of vegetarian pasta, a banana, chocolate, 9 slices of bread with a variety of toppings, a croissant filled with cream custard topped with chocolate, spring rolls, a full serve of Thai green curry with rice, 2 slices of pizza and a bowl of Cold Rock ice-cream. And I do believe that she mentioned that she was still hungry when we went to bed…

Part of the fuelling process – a big custard cream croissant!

The next day was a day of sloth. We spent the morning drinking cups of tea and reading. The most strenuous thing we did all day, was go to the beach and have a barbeque. Jude and I are currently reading books about sea-faring, so we bought a bottle of rum and pretended that we were pirates. Unfortunately we couldn’t find a parrot. Cold Rock also made another appearance, with a group of us sharing a big tub with 5 flavours of ice-cream and 4 treats smashed into it.

Wishing we were pirates.

Sunset at Airlie Beach.

It’s amazing how addicted I have become to the riding. By the next day I was feeling ansty about being off the bike, so while the others drove to the local waterfalls, Eli and I cycled the 60 plus k round trip. The falls were beautiful and the water very refreshing (read cold!). Eli did an awesome job of cycling, as she hasn’t been on a bike in years. And despite wanting to get off often and just lie down, she is now considering joining us for the Asia leg of our journey. We spent a wonderful evening catching up with Rich, Justin and Nic, and being around people from home made us very happy, but also nostalgic for all our friends at home. You are all loved and missed very much every day!

Rich joined us for the ride out to the Bruce Hwy.

To make it to Townsville on time to do our ‘big left’, we had to wish all our friends a fond farewell and hit the road again. Rich joined us for the ride out to the Bruce Hwy and it was sad to wave goodbye as we headed off towards Bowen. The Big Mango greeted us on arrival in town, and the mango sorbet was so good after a few hours cycling in the heat of the afternoon. We headed to the beach for a dip in the sea and there we met Bob cruising around on his fantastic bike. We chatted cycle touring and travel for a while, and then he invited us to stay at his place for the night. We watched the sunset from the lookout just behind his house and spent the evening talking about anything and everything, and looking at all the interesting things he had recently come across on the net.

The Big Mango at Bowen.

Watching the sunset from the lookout behind Bob’s house.

Even with this perfect life, sometimes things go a little pear shaped. It started perfect enough riding through the market and vegetable gardens of the area. We bought a massive bag of tomatoes for $2 from a roadside stall. Then things went a little pear shaped. We had our first flat of the trip, not normally a drama, but a 20 minute job turned into an epic two hour episode in the heat of the day. I must give a big thumbs up to our Schwalbe Marathon tyres as they have been awesome considering the distance and terrain we have covered. After pushing on to make up the distance we had lost, we camped the night in a rubbish infested road stop right next to the Bruce Hwy. Finally, the throat infection I had woken with, ended up becoming a crazy chest infection.

Our first flat of the journey.

The fruit stall where we were loaded up with melons.

But the morning dawned in sublime hues of red, pink, orange and purple, and we pedaled off to complete our first 100km day of the trip. A roadside fruit stall in Home Hill had us eating fantastic rockmelon, and the owner Alan, would have had us carting five varieties of other melons on the back of our bikes, if his lovely wife Francis had not intervened after the first two were gifted. After a few hours riding we were very excited when the turn off for Alligator Creek came into view, and were even more excited when we spotted Ash and Soph in the campground. We had done it – our first 100km day! We celebrated with a swim in the rock pools and waterfalls, and I found myself a lovely lady spa to relax in. All was wonderful, until on our return we discovered that the bush turkeys had massacred one of the melons we had carted for the last 80ks. Not happy turkeys! But a BBQ and music by candlelight had our night ending perfectly.

Our camp at Alligator Creek.

So as you finish up your cuppa, beer or wine, time has passed here as well. We area about to kick off our Jani celebration – we have beer, cheese, vainags (wreaths made of leaves and flowers worn on our heads), Latvian tunes, a guitar and four voices to celebrate this amazing day! Ligo!

All my love as always, Astrid.

Ash and Soph celebrate Jani with style.

Ligo, ligo!

June 9, 2013 by foonbikeride

Towards the tropics

Brisbane to Gladstone

I’m sitting in a bike shop in Gladstone, sipping instant coffee as I write this. Astrid is off trying to get ‘the plug’ fixed. Tomorrow we will ride into the tropics, another mile stone. Brisbane already seems so long ago. The ride out of the city was a stark contrast to the tears, tantrums and hypoglycaemia of the ride in. Due to a combination of google bikes and Tim’s local knowledge, our ride out of sunny Brisbane consisted mainly of bike paths and small roads. An added bonus was that we have discovered podcasts. Of course I knew of their existence beforehand but had never gotten around to downloading any. I must admit I am slightly out of control now, it’s a bit like letting a kid loose in a lolly shop. There is so much out there and I have a thirst for knowledge, especially in history, politics, some quantum physics, literature and permaculture. My one regret is that I did not do an arts degree prior to doing ‘something you can actually get a job in’. I think education for the joy of learning and the benefits that stem from that experience, which cannot necessarily be instantly measured in economic (shock horror) terms is something seriously under valued in our country. Anyway, I digress, but my point is that as well as this trip being about adventure in what we are seeing and experiencing, I am endeavouring to use this time to read the classics and further educate myself in the areas that spark my imagination. Hopefully in time this will solidify my future academic direction.

After a day of re familiarising myself with the French Revolution we made our camp at the foot of Mt. Beerburum, in the Glasshouse mountains. These mountains are quite bizzare, as they rise like giant monolithic structures out of a seemingly flat landescape. They are in fact volcanic plugs. I have been waiting to use that word. Voclcanic plug, like Gondwana supercontinent, are my new favourite words. Anyway, when you camp at the foot of a mountain you are basically compelled to summit it at sunrise. If you didn’t, it would be rather lame, especially when the summit is only 700m on a sealed path. And the sunrise was rather spendid.

Glasshouse mountains

What followed was not. A day of convoluted google bike directions, motorways that didn’t allow bikes on them, roads that had no on ramps and generally unsatisfying riding through built up areas. We even failed in making it to the Sunshine Coast brewery. When days like this happen, it’s a real reminder about letting go of how you thought the day should turn out and moving on. Luckily things took a turn for the better later in the day, with some pleasant riding along the coast and an awesome tailwind. We finished the day with a treat – $5 bottle of wine and a delicious variation on one of our one pot wonder meals. Things don’t tend to stay glum for long.

The weather here is already so much warmer than even a week ago. I know part of it is due to being back on the coast, but also because we are heading to the tropics. One thing that is so different about travelling slowly like this is that you get to notice the subtle changes that occur with a gradually changing climatic zone. You don’t just fly into some tropical destination from a Melbourne winter and feel suddenly overwhelmed with humidity and warmth.( not that that isn’t awesome in itself) Here the environment slowly alters before your eyes, such as the differences in vegetation, warmer and warmer evenings, cane toads and my personal favourite the hilarious bush turkey. The big bonus is the food! We are finding very cheap pineapples and avocados on the side of the road.

pineapple and espresso happiness

Following our $5 wine in the forest night we headed inland away from the Sunshine Coast. I don’t want to slam the Sunshine Coast, it’s probably a lot nicer in the sun. And it does have nice beaches. It is however very built up and we cycled through suburbs of mostly empty beach houses and apartments. And they say there is no rom for refugees in this country. The waste and decadence made us both a little uneasy. I mean, although I would probably never have one, I do like visiting friend’s beach houses but perhaps they are rather unnecessary. Ah, first world problems. Anyway, moving on. I guess Noosa and the sunshine coast in general probably once possessed that laid back, seaside village charm, that has been eroded by commercialisation and yuppies.

Once inland we were back in the quieter kind of country that agrees most with cycle touring. Lightly trafficked roads and farmland, interspersed with forest. At about the time we usually think about stopping, a reserve on the site of an old school appeared. Reserves, quite simply are gold. They usually mean a covered table, water and toilets. And in QLD there is a distinct lack of ‘no camping’ signs. After 2 nights of scrambled bush camping, the reserve may as well have been the Hilton. We settled in, drank tea, read books and watched the sunset over a field of cows.

What followed was a day of decidedly uninspiring cycling through immense pine plantations. The moody fast moving clouds dumped rain on us as they saw fit and log trucks thundered past (usually giving us enough room). Our camp was in a mossie infested part of the forest, we made thai curry and dived into the tent as soon as possible to watch ‘Spooks’. Somehow the uninspiring cycling from the previous day seemed to permeate the mood the following morning. Both of us felt lethargic and slightly morose and by the time we reached Maryborough, a mere 22km away it all came to a head. The root of the issue was since we have crossed the border into QLD we have been doing big days in rather uninspiring country. And it’s not only that, the distances themselves are much bigger than in the southern states. All the coastal towns are massive detours and the alternative is quality time with Bruce (Bruce highway A1). We don’t want to just ride the highway, but we also need to be in Darwin by August 1st as family are coming to visit, and we need to work on our yacht option to Asia. Of course, like everywhere you could spend months exploring this particular region of QLD. Somehow we have to find a balance between the places we would like to see and covering distance. We were in a rut about Queensland and needed a change of tactic. It was decided to sod the 65km we had planned to do that day, and stay put in Maryborough. Almost as soon as the decision to have a rest was made, our moods improved. We had a lovely day exploring the former frontier town, going to the museum and having a beer at the pub. A local even offered us his vacant block to camp on.

The rain really settled in the next day as we headed up the Bruce highway, but we did find avocados for 25 cents each. The promised land! Food is of central importance on this trip. I have rather tragically even downloaded the Aldi app onto my phone, as it tells me the location of the nearest Aldi store. I am a total convert! It certainly makes your dollar go ALOT further and it’s incredible how much I can eat these days. If you left me alone with a loaf of bread and a jar of Aldi chocolate spread, I promise you I could polish it off in 15 mins. I am seriously fantasising about going to an “All you can eat” restaurant before we leave Australia. I reckon we will do it and I can’t wait.

Day 7 of not showering dawned for the first time in days without rain. We had made camp at a free rest stop, which are heavily frequented by grey nomads and appear to be relatively common in QLD. Signs say they are for ‘the convenience of the travelling public’. I say awesome. This particular one was right next to a cute pub too. Bonus. We rode fast over gentle inclines, past cane fields, in light traffic to Bundaberg. We skipped the rum factory as neither of us are keen on Bundaberg rum and instead had the pleasure of a triple gold find of Big W ($2.99 350g Belgian Chocolate) Aldi (all good things come from here) and 65 cent pineapples from a servo. A good day.

Our push towards 1770/ Agnes Waters the following day was pleasantly interrupted by a break at the ‘Tiny Teahouse”. I was reminded later about another difference between cycling and driving these highways. When you drive it is so easy to see a sign for something (such as the tiny teahouse) and go ‘should we?’ and while you are deliberating at 100km per hour it flashes past and you think ‘oh well.’ I have certainly done that in a car. When you are cycling you see the sign get slowly bigger, until you can decipher it and then you start fantasising about tea and cakes. By the time you reach the actual turn off, you are sold. Perhaps this is not the greatest if you are trying to save every penny but you do get to have some unique and delicious experiences The Tiny Tea House rocked. Our goal that day, in terms of cycling was the Fingerboard Roadhouse which we reached around midday. Here we did a quick repack, chained up our bikes and successfully transformed ourselves from smelly cycle tourists to smelly backpackers with funny bags. Part of our solution to tacking QLD’s vast distances, was to think a little (at least for a cyclist) outside the square and hitch hike. It took us 10 mins to get a ride, we were soon set up in a camp ground in Agnes Water and not much longer after that we were swimming in the ocean. Hitchhiking win. This experience certainly opened my mind as to how to get around a 60km detour and even a way to explore an area if we ever want a break from the bikes.

cyclists to hitchhikers

Our time at Agnes Water/1770 was truly superb. A place I would recommend for all of those who like charming coastal villages with enough travellers to keep it vibrant but not yet ruined by over commercialisation. We made friends with Ash and Sophie, a great couple who are on their way around Australia. Like us they have quit their jobs to explore the world for a while. Meeting them made us collectively relish our freedom again and reflect on the things we would otherwise be doing (waiting in a hospital corridor perhaps?). It was so great to meet some people our age, this is not a negative comment on grey nomads as they are excellent, but just that I think we have been missing hanging out with people of our generation. Sophie and Ash were so kind to us and we all went to watch the sensational sunset at 1770 and then they cooked us dinner and shared their beer. In fact, I think we were all pretty happy with having met each other and stayed up late into the night talking until ‘Tiny,’ a local joined us. He is a muso and soon he was playing the guitar while some of us sang. Sadly this was interrupted by a grumpy grey nomad (who didn’t have the decency to ask us nicely to be quiet) but proceeded to yell at us to ‘shut up or he’d call the cops’. Obviously our folk songs were offensive to his ear. Sigh. Generation clash perhaps?

Sophie and Ash, our awesome new friends

After reluctantly packing up our stuff the next morning we had a change of heart and decided to stay another day. I’m not sure why we ever considered leaving. Ash and Sophie were such fun, the weather and location were sublime. Instead, the 4 of us headed to the beach to swim and read for the day. There we met one of Ash and Sophie’s friends, Guy. We had randomly run into him the night before. Guy has built his own catamaran and sailed from the Goldcoast with a mate. He is one of those truly inspirational people whose simple attitude to life really rung true with us, and he has certainly got our brains turning over. Astrid has talked about learning to sail before, but I didn’t know much about it and kind of thought it was something that rich people did. Sometimes you just need someone to spark your imagination, like the guy that inspired me to really try cycle touring. There are so many ways to live this life and they certainly don’t need to involve being tied to a job and piles of money. Guy just reminded me of that again. That night we made friends with another young dude travelling on his own until he meets up with his girlfriend. We all had a BBQ together and then Astrid and I had a sleep over in Ash and Sophie’s tent (as we had stupidly packed ours before deciding to stay). They drove us back to the Fingerboard Roadhouse the following day and we agreed to meet up again in Airlie Beach in a week or two. We are both looking forward to it!

sunset 1770

We had planned to ‘smash out the kilometres’ once we were dropped off, and smash we did. Thankfully we are travelling with a prevailing southerly wind and it was this wind that helped push is to 75km in 3.45 hours. Our home that night was the Boyne River rest stop, another free camp site thanks to the local council. Wow did that place fill up! So many variations of caravans and buses. We had a gold experience with John, a lovely grey nomad. He plied us with pineapple, heated water for us so we could wash, and cooked us dinner. He was slightly odd, in that he didn’t eat with us, but set us up in his van with our food because he ‘didn’t associate with young ladies’ and waited outside until we finished eating. Odd perhaps, but kindness comes in all forms.

So that brings us up where I am now, in the bike shop in Gladstone, exactly 2 months after we left our home. What am amazing trip it has been so far and what lies ahead is unknown and exciting.

Jude

foonsonbikes

Melbourne to London by bicycle. Then London home via Cairo to Cape Town.

Queensland

The long, hard, dusty road.

Turning Left

For the love of Bruce!

Towards the tropics