Melbourne to Gold Coast Ride - September 2002

While Julie (my wife) was away overseas for three weeks in September 2002, I decided to fly to Melbourne with my bike and ride home again to the Gold Coast. It was a massive undertaking - some 2200k with a 19 day plan, including 2 days rest in Canberra while visiting my mother. I decided to train for this one. So for 6 weeks prior, I put in some 300k's each week, including a 100k ride for each of those weeks. I landed in Melbourne, and as with most plans like this, I had to ride irrespective of the weather conditions. It just happened to be a day with 90k overnight winds that unroofed many Melbourne houses, with torrential rain to welcome me. I had to ride anyway. I headed in to Melbourne, then to Koo Wee Rup for the night. I was drenched and muddied, but in bright spirits. The Motel owner said I was 'mad'. Next day was a huge leg to Port Albert (170k), the south eastern tip of Victoria, and stayed at the local Hotel - see photo. I don't drink, but had a 90k 'draught' pushing me all day long! Glad to get in.

Next day I headed for Paynesville - another 170k day. The weather was 'wicked', and despite gear problems, I made it by days end despite being literally blown off the road into the rough on the approach to Paynesville. Then came my biggest day - the climbs started - the Alpine Way which went to Bruthen, then back to the Pacific Highway to CannRiver over some very steep climbing. The 180k was the longest for the trip, and I crawled into the Cann River Hotel after dark, glad to see the lights of Cann River.

I then turned up the Monaro Highway, which was a beautiful ride but always with solid climbing, being on the Snowy Range now. My gear cluster had fallen apart, and with a flat tyre to boot, it meant I was out after dark for 2 hours while pressing on ever upward with grit and determination for the little Alpine village of Nimitabel. Being on the road at night is unnerving, especially when a big roo bounds across your path in the darkness.

After some great country town hospitality, I headed to Cooma the next day. I had a tube protubing through a burst tyre and no spare until Cooma. I hadn't gone far before I came on the sign that said I was on top of the Great Diviiding Range, and could see the snow on the Kosciusko range in the background. I made it to Cooma, then to Canberra for a rest, and then headed to Sydney and took the infamous Puttey Road (everyone said I was again, 'mad' - the Puttey Road is famous for car accidents). The photo is

my first attempt at 'self photography' while on top of the climb out of Colo just north of the Hawkesbury.

I actually fell in love with the Puttey Road. It is 200k of remote wilderness, but some really lovely landscape (a pity that people use it as a rubbish tip!). I stayed at a farm B&B, then headed for Bulga where my dad was born, then turned up the Hunter Valley and over the Liverpool Range. I cruised through Quirindi to Tamworth, and then up and over the 'mother' of all hill climbs on a bike - the "Moonbi Range" - 8k of incessant climbing where the semi's pass you at about 3k faster than the 8kph that you are doing. I talked to many drivers, but refused the offer of a 'tow'! I tucked in at Bendemeer on top of the range (or so I thought), one of the lovliest little towns in NSW, cut off by the highway.

The climbing continued next day to Armidale, where I thought it was all down hill to Grafton. I was rudely disappointed. On the way to Ebor the following day, I thought it would all be a downhill coast. It was the opposite. Ebor is higher than Armidale, a lovely spot made famous by the falls. I met the Bike for Bibles group here who were most impressed I could climb 'Moonbi' in my tight cluster with saddle bags and back pack (I didn't tell them about the granny gear!).

There are always quaint sights along the way. Here is an example of the ingenuity of country people who feel it is a waste of money to buy a normal mailbox!

The road from Ebor was finally downhill (mostly). There was a 7k section of dirt that involved numerous hairpin turns. It was too late for me to see it - the first turn I didn't realise it was all deep 'bulldust' (powdery dust) and I lost control of the bike. I ended up in the bulldust, and couldn't get it off me or the bike until the shower that night. The photo tells the story. I couldn't resist the photo of the sign.

The timber trucks coming off the mountain on the Grafton approach are motorised killers. Twice I had to dive off the road into the rough, otherwise the galloping timber trucks would have taken me out. It was a pleasure the next morning on the Casino road after Grafton, I saw one of the returning timber trucks (now empty of timber) pulled over and being booked by the Grafton police. I resisted saying anything. Justice was indeed served.

We live in a great country. I love bike travel. It is the only form of transport where the 'engine' gets fitter and more efficient the more
miles it does. Sadly, too many of 'my fellow Australians' use our
country as a garbage tip. Most of the 2200k I travelled was lined with the rubbish that is thrown from cars. I do not exaggerate.

Sadly also, the roads are strewn with dead wildlife, especially our kangaroos.

The road from Grafton to Casino was hot and into a hot wind all the way. Casino came into view eventually - the 'Beef Capital of Australia'. I thought I had lost a lot of beef along the way from Melbourne - actually about 6kg by the time I got home.

From Casino it was 135k home to the Gold Coast. I had battled the mud of Moonee Ponds, the best the Great Dividing Range could dish out; I even managed to dodge killer timber trucks at Nimboida - but crossing the Sundale bridge into Southport where I lived, I was all but taken out by a tourist bus! It makes me sound weird, but as I approached our street, after 2200k of tough cycling, I had tears in my eyes that the great adventure was all but over. A crowd would have been great to welcome me home into my street, but as I turned into the street I was taken by how deserted it was. I bumped the bike into the driveway as I did on any normal ride, and sat on the lawn all alone, amazed that the dream had been realised. Then I heard "Dad's home". My daughter Kathryn was inside, and rushed outside to give me all the welcome I needed. I was indeed 'home'.