The plan was to cover the 2,000k from Townsville to my home at the gold Coast in twelve days of riding. This involved initially going inland to Charter's Towers, then turning south for several hundred kilometre's before heading east again to link up with the South Burnett Highway that 
would take me to the deep south of Queensland, then into New South Wales to Kyogle and home through the tough hill country of the Border Ranges, thus just making the 2000k. Still with my trusty old Apollo hybrid, I landed in Townsville and stayed the night with John Stewart (Julie's brother) and his family, and headed west early next morning. I underestimated the heat! The 140k to Charter's Towers would not normally have fazed me, but after 60k I was struggling. It was very hot; I had to battle the Mingela Range and found myself suffering by 90k. I had to stop and lie down at a Roadhouse
in the shade before struggling on to Charter's Towers. The land was parched, being in the dry season anyway but also in the grip of drought. This is the once beautiful Burdekin River, now just a few puddles at the bottom. It was a great relief to finally get in to town and have a nice shower. It was very hot, but took time to enjoy a stroll through this beautifully cared for country town steeped in history. I decided that due to the oppressive heat, I had to be on the road every day at or before dawn, so no more sleeping in! It was 400k to the next town, but I was headed for a
Roadhouse at belyando Crossing, a long 205k on a bike in this
burning caldron called the outback. Loaded with massive bottles of water that looked like turbo boosters strapped to my bike, I headed off into the rising dawn next day. It was a huge day, desperately hot, dozens of road trains, virtually no shade trees, but I made it in, screaming out the k count over the last ten kilometres! The following day was a repeat performance, with no life but a few brahman bulls to talk to, until I finally made the other 200k into Clermont, where the pub owner refused me to pay for my accommodation and steak dinner. Some people are just so good! There would be no repeat of these high miles and punishing conditions for the remiander of the trip. From Clermont I went further south to the mining town of Emerald where I was glad to be inside, out of the harsh heat and hot wind. The bike had several broken spokes, and a severely buckled wheel, which the bike shop said was 'shot'. I nursed it home though. Still leaving before dawn, I got away from Emerald in the dark, now turning east into a blinding sunrise, praying that cars coming from behind me weren't as blinded by the sun as I was! It was 160k to the truck stop at Duraringa, via Blac
kwater where I was passed by the longest train loaded with coal in my lifetime! I typically stopped for coffee and toast at stores like this, this one at Dululu on the way toBiloela. Since Duaringa I was facing a new phenomenon on this trip called hills! I was now on and off the Great Dividing Range, and looked forward to the next thousand kilometres of this until home. I was now on the South Burnett Highway, the landscape had changed from dry arid desert and mining country to lush farmlands of orchards and vast paddocks filled with stock. It was good to see 'green' again, and to see water in dams. I passed a most distressing sight - a large kangaroo was lying on his back in a ditch on the side of the road. He had been hit by a truck, but was not dead. He was slowly dying. It distressed me to have to leave him. Some will wonder why I couldn't have terminated his ebbing life, but the only means available to me were too primitive and barbaric. From Biloela (160k) I went to Monto, but over the toughest climbing I think I
have ever
done (the Coominglah Range), where I chanced to meet Jenny Babbibgton, a girl I hadn't seen or heard from since school days. We had our photo taken for the local paper. On seriously screaming knees and lacerated backside, I ambled away from Monto at dawn for Gayndah (150k), then the peanut capital of Queensland at Kingaroy. I thought you might like to see the view I get from the bike all day long. I cautiously passed these beef cattle which were straying on the road. Nice cow, nice cow I kept saying as I passed. I was also excelling as a self photographer, here taking a brief rest
under a most beautiful Queensland Fig. I left Gayndah before
dawn, and soon was greeted by the blinding dawn. I love the morning coffee stops - this one at Ban Ban Springs. The shop owners stare in amazement when I tell them I have covered a thousand k's, and only another thousand to go! I eventually left the Burnett for the Bunya Highway at Murgon, the home of many of our great Rugby League players of indigenous heritage, and was closing in on Kingaroy. This was now pig country, evidenced by the smell and the incessant squealing of pigs kept in crammed and
terrible conditions in piggeries. We enjoy the bacon, but we should
do something about the way these pigs are reared for our dinner
tables. Numerous trucks passed laden with squealing pigs packed in like sardines. The smell was overpowering. Several massive climbs greeted me on the long approach before Kingaroy, making me work for my supper that night, until finally I crested Redhill, aptly named to reflect the soil so distinctive to this peanut dominated economy, giving glorious views of the fields of red soil and peanut crops. Another 150k day, but my knees have
improved, and my undercarriage was now doing a lot better, thanks to ample amounts of paw paw cream since Emerald. Next day I faced the Bunya Range, heading west again to Dalby, passing through the beautiful village of Kumbria before facing the range. A new phenomenon today as I left at dawn - goosebumps on my bare arms. I had forgotten what cold felt like. I had to get used to it rather quickly! I hit the range, but the legs were so good now I cruised up until seeing the sign 'Porter Pass', surprised that it was all over without a fight. The road then descended onto the start of the Darling Downs, and I don't think I pedalled at all for the next
8k! After the little township of Bell, it was table flat for the final 47k to Dalby, the final 17k being dead flat and straight, with vast views to the horizon across ploughed and fallow fields. Give me hills anyday! I stayed at Mary Berry's pub. Mary is 85 yrs old at least, and one of those enduring Aussie characters. I dined with her at night. I left Dalby just after 5:30am on the road to Toowoomba, then to Warwick for the evening. The road out of Dalby was shocking, but with a slight tale wind and strong legs, the bike broke all trip records and I cruised into Toowoomba in very impressive time. Turning then to Warwick, I was into that same wind which now felt like a gale, and it was the most miserable leg of the entire trip. I struggled and suffered, even losing my vision at one point in a massive dust storm that left red dirt in my ears until shower time, after a massive 173k day! Next morning was my last day on Queensland soil. I was up and on the bike at 5:45am, and for the next hour cycled in near freezing conditions, in stark contrast to earlier days where I was suffering sunstroke!
My frozen misery lasted until Killarney, one of Australia's most beautiful country towns near the New South Wales border, nestled at the end of a glorious valley and surrounded on east and south by the majesty of the Border Ranges National park. This photo was taken on departure, looking back over the valley to the east. The road then toughened up and climbed through the Border Range until Woodenbong, having crossed into New South Wales on the dirt road mountain section. From Woodenbong, the road went straight up for the next 5k, which is hard on the legs after 90k,
from where it was another 60k gently down to Kyogle, where I would spend my final night in an Aussie pub. The final day arrived, and I headed away from Kyogle on the Murwillumbah road. I had a date with Julie and our daughter Kathryn at 10am for coffee at Murwillumbah. Then the fun started. These were the mountains at the rear of Mt Warning. I climbed, and climbed and climbed for over 30k. The hills were so steep that I was concerned that the chain would snap, at times having to 'zig-zag' to take the strain off the chain. These were the mother of all hills, certainly my 'hillus
horribillus' on this trip. I passed through the villages of Wadeville, Kunghur and then Uki, with Mt Warning standing guard over me at all times. Murwillumbah was a most welcome sight, as were Julie and Kathryn and the Cafe Late! The final run home via Tweed Heads passed all too smoothly, and I made one more stop at Kirra Beach for the final photo, before joining the very roads that I had done hundreds and hundreds of miles in training for this and all my other cycling journeys. The bike knew the way home!
would take me to the deep south of Queensland, then into New South Wales to Kyogle and home through the tough hill country of the Border Ranges, thus just making the 2000k. Still with my trusty old Apollo hybrid, I landed in Townsville and stayed the night with John Stewart (Julie's brother) and his family, and headed west early next morning. I underestimated the heat! The 140k to Charter's Towers would not normally have fazed me, but after 60k I was struggling. It was very hot; I had to battle the Mingela Range and found myself suffering by 90k. I had to stop and lie down at a Roadhouse
in the shade before struggling on to Charter's Towers. The land was parched, being in the dry season anyway but also in the grip of drought. This is the once beautiful Burdekin River, now just a few puddles at the bottom. It was a great relief to finally get in to town and have a nice shower. It was very hot, but took time to enjoy a stroll through this beautifully cared for country town steeped in history. I decided that due to the oppressive heat, I had to be on the road every day at or before dawn, so no more sleeping in! It was 400k to the next town, but I was headed for a
Roadhouse at belyando Crossing, a long 205k on a bike in thisburning caldron called the outback. Loaded with massive bottles of water that looked like turbo boosters strapped to my bike, I headed off into the rising dawn next day. It was a huge day, desperately hot, dozens of road trains, virtually no shade trees, but I made it in, screaming out the k count over the last ten kilometres! The following day was a repeat performance, with no life but a few brahman bulls to talk to, until I finally made the other 200k into Clermont, where the pub owner refused me to pay for my accommodation and steak dinner. Some people are just so good! There would be no repeat of these high miles and punishing conditions for the remiander of the trip. From Clermont I went further south to the mining town of Emerald where I was glad to be inside, out of the harsh heat and hot wind. The bike had several broken spokes, and a severely buckled wheel, which the bike shop said was 'shot'. I nursed it home though. Still leaving before dawn, I got away from Emerald in the dark, now turning east into a blinding sunrise, praying that cars coming from behind me weren't as blinded by the sun as I was! It was 160k to the truck stop at Duraringa, via Blac
kwater where I was passed by the longest train loaded with coal in my lifetime! I typically stopped for coffee and toast at stores like this, this one at Dululu on the way toBiloela. Since Duaringa I was facing a new phenomenon on this trip called hills! I was now on and off the Great Dividing Range, and looked forward to the next thousand kilometres of this until home. I was now on the South Burnett Highway, the landscape had changed from dry arid desert and mining country to lush farmlands of orchards and vast paddocks filled with stock. It was good to see 'green' again, and to see water in dams. I passed a most distressing sight - a large kangaroo was lying on his back in a ditch on the side of the road. He had been hit by a truck, but was not dead. He was slowly dying. It distressed me to have to leave him. Some will wonder why I couldn't have terminated his ebbing life, but the only means available to me were too primitive and barbaric. From Biloela (160k) I went to Monto, but over the toughest climbing I think Ihave ever
done (the Coominglah Range), where I chanced to meet Jenny Babbibgton, a girl I hadn't seen or heard from since school days. We had our photo taken for the local paper. On seriously screaming knees and lacerated backside, I ambled away from Monto at dawn for Gayndah (150k), then the peanut capital of Queensland at Kingaroy. I thought you might like to see the view I get from the bike all day long. I cautiously passed these beef cattle which were straying on the road. Nice cow, nice cow I kept saying as I passed. I was also excelling as a self photographer, here taking a brief restunder a most beautiful Queensland Fig. I left Gayndah before
dawn, and soon was greeted by the blinding dawn. I love the morning coffee stops - this one at Ban Ban Springs. The shop owners stare in amazement when I tell them I have covered a thousand k's, and only another thousand to go! I eventually left the Burnett for the Bunya Highway at Murgon, the home of many of our great Rugby League players of indigenous heritage, and was closing in on Kingaroy. This was now pig country, evidenced by the smell and the incessant squealing of pigs kept in crammed andterrible conditions in piggeries. We enjoy the bacon, but we should
do something about the way these pigs are reared for our dinnertables. Numerous trucks passed laden with squealing pigs packed in like sardines. The smell was overpowering. Several massive climbs greeted me on the long approach before Kingaroy, making me work for my supper that night, until finally I crested Redhill, aptly named to reflect the soil so distinctive to this peanut dominated economy, giving glorious views of the fields of red soil and peanut crops. Another 150k day, but my knees have
improved, and my undercarriage was now doing a lot better, thanks to ample amounts of paw paw cream since Emerald. Next day I faced the Bunya Range, heading west again to Dalby, passing through the beautiful village of Kumbria before facing the range. A new phenomenon today as I left at dawn - goosebumps on my bare arms. I had forgotten what cold felt like. I had to get used to it rather quickly! I hit the range, but the legs were so good now I cruised up until seeing the sign 'Porter Pass', surprised that it was all over without a fight. The road then descended onto the start of the Darling Downs, and I don't think I pedalled at all for the next
8k! After the little township of Bell, it was table flat for the final 47k to Dalby, the final 17k being dead flat and straight, with vast views to the horizon across ploughed and fallow fields. Give me hills anyday! I stayed at Mary Berry's pub. Mary is 85 yrs old at least, and one of those enduring Aussie characters. I dined with her at night. I left Dalby just after 5:30am on the road to Toowoomba, then to Warwick for the evening. The road out of Dalby was shocking, but with a slight tale wind and strong legs, the bike broke all trip records and I cruised into Toowoomba in very impressive time. Turning then to Warwick, I was into that same wind which now felt like a gale, and it was the most miserable leg of the entire trip. I struggled and suffered, even losing my vision at one point in a massive dust storm that left red dirt in my ears until shower time, after a massive 173k day! Next morning was my last day on Queensland soil. I was up and on the bike at 5:45am, and for the next hour cycled in near freezing conditions, in stark contrast to earlier days where I was suffering sunstroke!
My frozen misery lasted until Killarney, one of Australia's most beautiful country towns near the New South Wales border, nestled at the end of a glorious valley and surrounded on east and south by the majesty of the Border Ranges National park. This photo was taken on departure, looking back over the valley to the east. The road then toughened up and climbed through the Border Range until Woodenbong, having crossed into New South Wales on the dirt road mountain section. From Woodenbong, the road went straight up for the next 5k, which is hard on the legs after 90k,
from where it was another 60k gently down to Kyogle, where I would spend my final night in an Aussie pub. The final day arrived, and I headed away from Kyogle on the Murwillumbah road. I had a date with Julie and our daughter Kathryn at 10am for coffee at Murwillumbah. Then the fun started. These were the mountains at the rear of Mt Warning. I climbed, and climbed and climbed for over 30k. The hills were so steep that I was concerned that the chain would snap, at times having to 'zig-zag' to take the strain off the chain. These were the mother of all hills, certainly my 'hillus
horribillus' on this trip. I passed through the villages of Wadeville, Kunghur and then Uki, with Mt Warning standing guard over me at all times. Murwillumbah was a most welcome sight, as were Julie and Kathryn and the Cafe Late! The final run home via Tweed Heads passed all too smoothly, and I made one more stop at Kirra Beach for the final photo, before joining the very roads that I had done hundreds and hundreds of miles in training for this and all my other cycling journeys. The bike knew the way home!
1 comment:
What an amazing journey - I am about to head off in my petrol driven car and feel this will be a mission of epic proportions. What you have done is inspirational - I'm proud of you ... WELL DONE
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