Australasia
Day 4: 11th January ’12
Distance: 12.15 miles
Total Distance: 151.37 miles
Route: Jindabyne (transfer) » Bright » Wandiligong » Bright
The drive from Jindabyne to Bright is much longer than expected and with the weather taking a change for the worse, am quite happy to be driving the van instead of fighting the elements today. It also affords me a good chance to rest after yesterdays efforts, and also before the considerable climb of ‘Mt Hotham’ tomorrow.
We see several rainbows arched low across the valley floor of Kosciuszko National Park as we motor along. The tree cover is heavy on the slopes of the Snowy Mountains and I realise one slight drawback to cycling in this area: hard-won views are impeded by the density of the forest canopy.
The scenery is stunning as we skirt Mitta Mitta and Burrowa-Pine National Parks, Lake Hume and Mount Beauty. ‘Bright’ is an attractive town, although we are met by heavy rain in the late afternoon.
Quickly locating a motel for the night, we dump the bags and head out on a short ride along the river and cycle path to ‘Wandiligong’. In the evening, we enjoy each others company at the towns micro-brewery, and ‘carb-up’ on Italian food. Tomorrow we will part company and I’ll no longer have the support and comfort of the ‘Sag Wagon’.
Day 5: 12th January ’12
Distance: 75.03 miles
Total Distance: 226.40 miles
Route: Bright » Harrietsville » Mt Hotham » Omeo
I make a ‘Bright’ start (!) and am on course for 8 by 8. These are not cryptic co-ordinates or carpenters supplies, but refers to cycling 8 miles before 8 am: a good start to the day!
A few miles out of Bright I stop to adjust my saddle, when a large kangaroo comes hopping along the main road and halts a few metres in front of me. Skippy looks at me warily for a minute before continuing to happily bounce further down the road.
The bike feels heavy today with fully laden panniers. I’m not really in the mood for lashings of pain today, but I get a gut instinct there’ll not be much choice in the matter.
A ridiculously steep climb out of Harrietsville marks the beginning of a long slog up to 1861 metre high ‘Mt Hotham’. I eventually find a rhythym and patiently wind up the many switchbacks on the long climb upward.
The valley floor appears below and the view is breathtaking. The B500 Great Alpine Road I’m riding on is a celebrated drive in Australia – and rightly so.
It gets much colder nearer the summit and I can see my increasingly laboured breaths. I stop to record a short video near to the summit; only this assumption proves false. Minutes later up the road I see a sign for the actual summit, 10 km further away…
After a moment of utter deflation, I psyche myself up for the new task and quietly ask my legs if they would be interested in partaking in an additional 30-40 minutes of pain?
By the time I reach the bona fide summit, I’m utterly shattered and buffeted by the cold winds. Apparently it snowed here yesterday! Hard to imagine with 30 deg temperatures in the valley below.
I don’t wait around but make a quick descent off the other side of the mountain. With no gloves, my hands feel totally numb within minutes. The last 15 miles of the ride are awful and I’m totally bonked on the few small remaining climbs of the day.
Feeling as sick as a parrot, I greatfully coast the remaining 5 miles downhill into Omeo. I find a plain but comfortable hotel room, shower, eat and then sleep.
Day 6: 13th January ’12
Distance: 88.07 miles
Total Distance: 314.47 miles
Route: Omeo » Swifts Creek » Ensay » Bairnsdale
A good breakfast and early start on the road finds me making good speed on the way to Bairnsdale. The route today is more downhill than up and I thoroughly enjoy being on the bike. I follow for mile after mile the course of the Tambo River; a beautiful gorge cuts through the rock and there is dense tree cover either side of the river.
I reach a plain and am stopped dead in my tracks by cows all over the road. Suddenly, the roar of two farmers on quadbikes comes out of a field to one side of the road, followed sharply by a very effective Border Collie ‘Cowdog’! The bovine traffic quickly cleared I make swift progress on the road to the aptly named Swifts Creek.
A steep climb gets the blood pumping after an easy day so far. Towards the top of the climb, the road is being resurfaced and bits of tarry stone stick to my tyres in the heat.
After a downhill section, I’m daydreaming as I cycle along. Blissfully unaware that my continued existence is soon to be a 50/50 chance. A huge double-length logging truck, moving at or near the roads 100kph speed limit passes by me within a foot or so. The turbulence of the passing truck causes my handlebars to lurch violently and it’s not until a few minutes later I comprehend how lucky I’ve been. In fairness, I don’t think it was entirely the truck drivers fault; the road had narrowed at a bend and a car coming rapidly the other way had squeezed the space left for the overtaking truck. It’s the closest I’ve been to being struck by a vehicle in all my years of cycling. What a way to start (and end) that would have been.
Having no need to get straight back on the horse I didn’t actually fall off, I don’t stop after the near miss, but pedal on regardless – if not a little shaken by the incident.
At Bruthen I stop for a bite to eat at a bakery, but quickly exit the mad little pie-shop; a cacophany of rabid asbo kids and their equally pastry-hungry parents is more than I can deal with.
I make my way out of town and yet again have a problem with a big truck. This one blasts its air-horn at me because it had to slow down to avoid hitting me where the road narrowed through a chicane. I promptly deliver various internationally recognised hand-signals to the truck driver in a most vigorous fashion. Not in the mood for any further idiotic driving, I quickly spot a dirt path running along side the road and jump on it.
A minor miracle, after 500 metres or so, the path turns into a rail-trail (bike path along former railway line) that continues all the way to Bairnsdale where I plan to spend the night.
A strong headwind is a pain, but an annoyance I’ll settle with in order to not be on the busy main road. The railtrail passes through beautiful pastoral scenery; some that could easily double for the English countryside.
I take the first motel room I come to in town, dump the bags and head immediately out to the bottleshop for a cold beer. I deserve it today.