Border Ranges Cycle Touring

[Eleri]

Occasionally people in the club tour – there’s been some epics involving budgie smugglers, Melbourne to Sydney with alleged tantrum, various tours of Tasmania and Victoria’s epic solo tour with Bob (her trailer).

Our tour was none of that. We set off in the car optimistically in the rain with the BOM threatening 5 days of heavy rain.

We arrived at Murwillumbah later than intended and, tired from driving, opted to search out the caravan park and a cabin rather than pitch our tents in the still drizzle. I’d borrowed mine from Adrian (thanks!) and had never tried to put it up. Our tour could have ended at this point as I wrongly but determinedly took us in the wrong direction through the streets of Murwillumbah … several times.

Day 1
We set off somewhat later than intended after slacker packing and fiddling around, buying stuff and then having lunch. Michael on his Surly Disc Trucker with touring tyres each weighing nearly 1kg, a triple required to get the tyres up the hills and 4 panniers and me on my steel Bobo with 650c, compacts and 2 panniers.

Fortunately the weather was mostly kind and the ride an easy 50km to Nimbin. A few pick-a-plank bridges prepared to scare me on my skinny tyres. We knew we were in rainbow country when the potholes were artistically spray painted with snakes, dots and multi-coloured. We chose the middle-aged peoples’ caravan park and set up camp for the first time. Thinking we were in vegetarian paradise, we were sadly disappointed to find most eating establishments closed including the Rainbow Café holding memories of years past but sadly changed. A beer in the pub held the delights of overheard conversations by conspiracy theorists (Australia is not properly constituted) and small town chat about girls.

I however, was losing my voice. For much of the trip it would work during the day but rapidly expire about 5pm leaving Michael to uphold both sides of a conversation. This didn’t work so well.

A belated upload to Strava showed I achieved 2 QOMs in the area. Half-surprisingly they were both held by former DHBC member Victoria (and Bob). Sorry Vic! Anyone (Jo Skinner for example) who wants to ride up those hills without panniers will beat both of us for sure ☺

Day 2
Remarkably everything fitted into the panniers and after getting imprecise directions from a clueless camper and then the police, we headed off towards Kyogle none the wiser. My failure to take any interest in route planning meant I hadn’t previously noticed the book said there was “a dirt road” – up a hill. In my book that means a tantrum is called for. I don’t do dirt.

The road headed north and we shared the road with local traffic and oddly large trucks over some winding, hilly bits of road. Michael discovered a maple syrup smelling grass that then followed us throughout the ride. It just made him hungry. Meanwhile I rode to Kyogle tantrum free as the dirt road had been magically sealed.

Kyogle itself is not endearing – it’s just 30km from Nimbin but miles away from Aquarius. We met the most delightful ladies in the Visitor Centre who cast some doubt about our ability to stay at Gray’s Creek caravan park. The owners were “old” – i.e. older than the ladies themselves – and prone to just taking off and not telling anyone. A brief shop and it started to rain as we headed off north to Gray’s Creek some 28km up the Summerland Way. Turning right at a locality called “The Risk” we headed down a winding, small side road as the rain steadily increased.

Nervous about finding somewhere to camp, we eventually we came to what we thought might be an alternate bed for the night. Turned out to be a closed café/restaurant but we met the owner and Michael set about convincing him to let us camp on the grass, use the toilet facilities and be out before the café opened in the morning. Just as that deal seemed agreed we discovered the gate would be locked and we would have to lift our bikes over to get out. We decided to set off to find the caravan park knowing we had this as a back up.

It was closed. Or so the sign said. I rang the phone number on the sign and pathetically told our story of soaked cyclists seeking shelter. Fortunately the peripatetic owners had just returned from their travels and let us camp under a carport and with bonus added bathroom. Just the ticket! Ron McDonald, the 80yrs+ owner turned out to be an entertaining chap with strong opinions on the world – still quoting him.

We cooked a pasta delight and bunked down in our tents, at least protected from the pouring rain and wind. Added bonus was the opportunity to charge all our various devices. In my memory 3 hugely long trains went past in the night. In Michael’s memory there was only one. It was quite close to the Sydney – Brisbane train line. Perhaps it was a dream …

Day 3

Sun’s out! A sharp hill outside the gate got our hearts racing. Round a few bends and we exchanged greetings with a drawling drover, resplendent in a Driza-Bone. The thrill of Queensland went through me.

A mostly quiet road saw us go through farmlands and then up into the range that is the border. Some serious climbing today made more intense by the load on the bikes. Up and up through rainforest and to the top and the border. What looked like speed cameras at the border turned out to be stopping livestock rustling! And then a heart stopping steep descent saw me pause half-way down to cool my brakes before it eased to swooping short hills and a beautiful ride through a valley with a 40kph tailwind directly behind for perhaps 20km to Rathdowney.

Here we held ourselves up for ridicule at the pub in this beef capital of SE Qld. Egg burgers, hold the meat, lemon, lime and bitters and can I have a flat white please (“no") all the while clad in Lycra.

The tailwind endured for the 20km ride along the wide-shouldered highway to Beaudesert, our stop for the night.

Hot showers, a grassy campsite and a washing line were welcome sights. However we had the worst meal of the trip in Beaudesert in a deserted Indian restaurant. The experience made tenser as my voice had reduced to a pathetic whisper, annoying to both of us.

Day 4
I remember Tamborine Mountain from living in Qld. It’s a bit like Berry on the top of a hill and a tourist destination. A nice sunny day, and indeed a Sunday, made for a less than ideal trip. In fact, it was one of the most stressful days, made so by all the traffic up and down the mountain. Otherwise I reckon it would have been quite nice.

It’s the only day I had to get off on a hill – but it was a downhill. With all the traffic and an exceptionally long, steep descent of 18-20% it all got too much and we decided to walk rather than worry about blowing a tyre. Carrying all that extra weight sure makes a difference to braking. Michael’s disc brakes were also getting hot.

We eventually got into Nerang on the Gold Coast to find the caravan park wasn’t interested in our tents or us so we decamped to a cheap motel instead and lived it up for the night. Michael had the inspired idea to leave our panniers there and go light back to Murwillumbah.

Day 5
This was the best day of the tour as we headed south. Not only had we ditched the weight but the ride through the Numinbah Valley was just beautiful. Being a Monday there was no traffic and it was a delightful contrast to the day before. We found a café with hot scones and coffee, heard about the local Yowie hunters (they are a bit mad – who would have thought?) and the road became narrower and less travelled up through Natural Arch and to the border. For most of it we were able to ride side-by-side and chat with my voice steadily improving.

The run from the border was mostly downhill, the skies sunny and we arrived in Murwillumbah in time for lunch and to pick up the car. Bikes back on the roof and we headed straight back to Nerang via the freeway. What had taken us 4 hours on the bike took less than an hour on the freeway. The contrast was stark – we saw nothing and it was hard to believe the tranquillity that lay just a few kms to the west.

That was the end of our tour and we picked up our bags in Nerang, stocked up and headed to O’Reilly’s for a night up in Lamington National Park and an epically wet 17km walk in the rainforest. But that’s another story.

Highly recommended ride but don’t go to Tamborine on the weekend. And if you can get that 40km tailwind into Rathdowney – do it.

[Eleri]

The potholes near Nimbin are mesmerising



Camping and cooking under shelter in the wind and rain at Gray's Creek



Border Ranges didactic panel in which I am seeking to emulate the birds



The border crossing: note the livestock rustling cameras and the barrage of signs



Walking down Tamborine Mountain - steeper than it looks. Yes, I swapped bikes - that's not mine.



The best ride of the week - Numinbah Valley

[mikesbytes]

Looks like a great ride Eleri. Excellent writeup and photos

[JoTheBuilder]

I think your QOM's are safe... I might tour somewhere else with guaranteed accommodation!

[Dougie]

Eleri, great report. It does all sound just a little too Wolf Creek for my liking. What time was banjo practice......

Nice picture. Maybe I have seen it elsewhere ne pas? http://www.smh.com.au/executive-style/f ... 2njsq.html# or maybe your nom de plume is really Michael O'Reilly. Like superman and Clark Kent, I can't say I have ever seen EMT and Michael in the same place at the same time.

[JoTheBuilder]

And nice to see a comment from Peter @ Livelo.

[Eleri]

Eleri, great report. It does all sound just a little too Wolf Creek for my liking. What time was banjo practice......

Nice picture. Maybe I have seen it elsewhere ne pas? http://www.smh.com.au/executive-style/f ... 2njsq.html# or maybe your nom de plume is really Michael O'Reilly. Like superman and Clark Kent, I can't say I have ever seen EMT and Michael in the same place at the same time.

Some of it was Wolf Creekish - fortunately Michael had me to protect him.