A Remarkable Ending

The final two days were upon us so quickly. Where had the time gone? It dawned on us that we really didn't want this journey to end. Usually after a significant time away from home you find yourself looking forward to at least the comfort of your own bed - but not this time. Every metre we rode brought us closer to the finality of ending our journey. It was a strangely reflective couple of days. If there were any way we could have just kept on riding south past our car we would have.

Day Nine
Warren Gorge - Quorn

Due to our massive efforts the day before it felt like a reasonably short ride to the little town of Quorn.  To the relief of our weary legs we arrived by lunchtime and had the afternoon to relax. We were pleasantly surprised by the quaint little caravan park with it's eco friendly philosophy. We received 'an  eco-discount' on camping fees because of our low carbon footprint as well as some friendly advice about the following day's ride - apparently the range that we were to climb over was quite the adventure with many people having to walk their bikes up and over the other side. The thought of a difficult last day on the bikes added to our growing reluctance to finish the journey.

Breakfast Time at Warren Gorge

Day Ten
Quorn - Mt Remarkable

We decided against all advice to stick with the Mawson Trail today. It was our last day and even if we did have to haul our bikes up and over Richman Gap we were going to do it! As it turned out the 'big climb' ended up being one of those urban myths and was really no worse than what we had ridden on previous days. Quite the anti-climax! The down hill run on the other side was a nice reward that helped tick of some easy miles for our final push to the end.

Our final destination lay at the foot of Mount Remarkable, so with this mountain coming into view throughout the day it really did make for a remarkable ending!

And there it was. We had done it. All of a sudden it was over. The experience nothing more than a memory.

On the drive home, somewhere in Mallee Country, quite literally hundreds of kilometres from anywhere, we passed an old man. The same old man whom we had passed 15 days earlier. He was still walking, just off the side of the road, in the same direction, only perhaps now three hundred kilometres further east. He carried with him an assortment of bags, which seemed to hang off him in all manner of uncomfortable ways. Only a couple of weeks earlier we had automatically assumed that he was down on his luck and forced into this arduous journey. Now, as we headed home, we both had the distinct feeling that this journey of his was a choice and more importantly one that he most likely enjoyed. We were in some ways envious. It occurred to us how much our perception of the so called 'good life' had changed as a result of our own journey.

The Drive Home :(

A Few Statistics

Kilometres travelled:  393
Max speed (km/hr):  47
Flat tyres: 2
Nappy changes:  47
Weetbix Zephyr consumed:  20
Snakes seen:  0
Rain: 7mm
Number of times we got out the first aid kit: 1
Showers per person: 3
Pairs of socks per person: 1
Baby teeth cut through: 4

It's not all Plain Sailing

You would think that the toughest days mountain bike touring are those that pass through the most remote and rugged terrain, those days where you have to get off your bike and push because the incline is too steep or the rocks too big to ride over. But strangely enough those days were in fact the best. And not in the way that you look back on some challenging experiences and think 'I hated doing it.... but I'm glad I kept going now it's over'. We really enjoyed these experience in the moment; there was so much anticipation, we had no idea what was around the corner or over the next hill and nothing was ever the same - the landscape was always changing, always different.

It was quite a shock to enter this next phase of our journey. In some ways we had been looking forward to what appeared on the map to be flatter terrain and better formed roads. But in reality these days turned out to be the toughest. The dirt roads were corrugated from being driven on by vehicles and the roads, although flatter, stretched out into the horizon for as far as you could see. Every mile seemed the same and the vast open plains although quite spectacular offered little variety in terms of scenery. It was the only time during our journey that we became destination focused, watching the speedo and willing the miles to tick over.

Counting the kms on our trusty map

Day Six

Merna Mora Station - Hawker

After departing Merna Mora Station we spent the better half of the day on a sandy and bumpy track which passed through a massive cattle station. In the distance could be seen the plateau that we were slowly but surely headed for. Sometime after lunch we finally reached it and in our weary state were quite demoralized by the steepness of the track that we could see heading straight up onto the plateau. We looked at our maps and decided that there was a better option than having to get the kids out, unhitch the trailer, unload all of our panniers and then make about five separate trips up what we later found out was called Heart Break Hill. Our revised route involved a 6km dirt road out to the main drag and then what we thought would be an easy 20km ride on the bitumen into town. We didn't factor in how boring the main road would be or how trapped we would feel by the fences on our left, the cars passing on our right and smooth but somewhat soulless black road that lay before us. 

Fixing the only 2 flat tyres of the trip - both on the
chariot at the same time.

The face of despair....

In hindsight we wished we'd just kept on the trail and done those shuttles up to the plateau, as I'm sure we would have been in a better mindset at the end of the day. As it was we rode into our first town, Hawker (population 492), not in the greatest of spirits and vowing never to willingly take the main road again. By this stage of the journey the kids were covered in dirt and Tahlia from a distance appeared to have gotten one of those horrible orange spray on tans so we took the opportunity of staying in a caravan park to shower the kids. 

A whole new take on becoming one with the earth.

Day Seven

Hawker - Cradock

We woke up to rain this morning. Our tent was wet and instead of being covered in dust was now covered in mud - joy! You can ride in the rain but it's a bit more tricky with two little ones who need to get out and play at regular intervals. So we decided to hang around town until it cleared. Delicious french toast was cooked for breakfast on an undercover BBQ and followed by an outing to the local general store to stock up on ridiculously overpriced but much needed fresh food. Once the weather fined up we took the back road to Cradock and saw many emus and wedge tailed eagles throughout the afternoon. I wouldn't describe Cradock as a town, more of a locality, where about five people live - oh and there's a pub of course! The owners of the pub were lovely and allowed us to camp for free on the side of the road right outside.

Back in 5min......gone to the Cradock pub

Day Eight

Cradock - Warren Gorge

Today ended up being our longest day in terms of distance travelled and time in the saddle. Sixty five kilometres of dirt and almost nine hours on the bikes. We rode through the Willochra Plain to the ruins of Simonston (the town which never was) which was where we encountered our first strong headwinds and found out that the chariot catches the wind beautifully and is about as aerodynamic as a brick wall. While having lunch in the middle of nowhere a lovely couple traveling around Australia in a 4wd stopped to ask if they could take a photo of us and our entourage. We brushed off some dust and tried to look like we were doing it easy! You know you're a bit odd when tourists want to take photos of you......

We didn't arrive at warren gorge until 5:30pm having chosen to reluctantly push on past the first potential campsite 15km earlier. We were absolutely shattered. We must have said this out loud a hundred times as it is now Tahlia's newest saying! She was apparently 'shattered' after cleaning her room this morning. 

Tahlia and Zephyr Cam

Round the Pound

You could say that the first five days of our journey saw us ride 'Round the Pound'. Beginning in the small South Australian outback town of Blinman we almost circumnavigated the famous Wilpena Pound, a huge natural basin around 10kms in diameter, which is encompassed entirely by a circular mountain range. Below is our first blog entry of these first five days. Two more entries to come.

Wilpena Pound

Day One

Blinman - Alpana Station

Being dropped off on the side of the road with nothing but our bikes, bags and two little kids was quite daunting. In the dust we slowly took stock of our situation and began the process of loading our bikes. Not many people stopped to say hello as we sorted our gear, which almost entirely took up up one side of the main street. Nappies, water bottles, helmets, handle bar boxes, bikes, panniers and gear were strewn in all directions. 

Fun and Games in Blinman

As we rolled out of town the reality of our situation began to sink in and we couldn't help but wonder what important piece of equipment we may have accidentally left behind in our car 400kms south. It wasn't long though before our minds turned to the vast open landscape that lay before us. Such anticipation! We were on our way.

Chariot Cam - Leaving the Security of Blinman

It was a relatively short ride to a sheep station where we were hoping to camp for the night. They pointed us down to the creek and told us we could camp wherever we wanted. After bumping our way through several paddocks we arrived at the creek, which we soon realized was completely dry. (It turned out that every single one of the hundreds of creeks and river beds we crossed during our journey would also be dry). Seems like we would be carrying a lot of water! 

Tahlia enjoying some solo time down at the creek!

Day Two 

Alpana Station - Trezona Campsite

First stop this morning was the water tank and we filled up with close to 20litres of water before rolling out of Alpana Station with a feeling of excitement about our first full day ahead. Crossing the boundary into the Flinders Ranges National Park saw us turn off the main route and pass through a locked gate. The locked gate was significant and meant that the trail we would follow was inaccessible to vehicles. We were pretty happy about this; it enhanced our sense of remoteness and meant that we wouldn't be likely to run into any noisy four wheel drivers or motor bikes throughout the day. There's something nice about being in an area which you have to work hard to get to. 

Fully Loaded Bikes

No Shade in Sight

The trail was dry, dusty and rocky. We wound our way through the arid desert landscape which offered little shade. Some time during the afternoon after a solid day of riding a line of river gums appeared on the horizon - we knew the campsite wasn't far off. Arriving at the dry river bed felt like stumbling upon an oasis. After being couped up in the chariot all day the kids were up for some play time. They decided to climb on every rock, walk on every log and jump all over whatever was around. It was a slow process to set up the tent and cook dinner given that there was always one of us on 'yard duty'. The last thing Marty wanted was the extra weight of a plaster cast to tow around the South Australian Outback. Turned out the dry creek bed was a great natural playground  - for everyone! Some interesting rock sculptures were created, and abruptly destroyed by Zephyr :(

Rock Balancing

Day Three

Trezona Campsite - Wilpena Pound

A bit of an epic day. We rolled out early this morning around 8am and didn't arrive at Wilpena until 4.30pm. The first half of the day saw us continue further south along more remote trails with Wilpena Pound slowly coming into view. After a solid morning of riding we found ourselves coming out onto a popular 4wd track and not long after passed the Bunyeroo Valley lookout (apparently the most popular point to photograph the Mountains surrounding the Flinders Ranges).

So naturally - we took a photo!

The Mawson Trail Sign Posts

After eating the dust of several land cruisers over the next few kilometers we were more than happy to exit this track and follow the Mawson signs to the the path less travelled through yet another locked gate. The long slow climb for the rest of the day seemed to take forever - but the scenery was amazing as we were riding up the valley formed by the Heyson and ABC ranges. 10km of uphill through a hot, dry moonscape saw us digging deep and at times we were moving at no more than 3km/hr. It was also the first time we encountered a few steep pinches that were too difficult to ride up with the chariot and forced us to shuttle bikes, kids and bags up and out of several creek beds. To finish the day we had 5kms of single track to tackle that posed a few challenges for our heavy and wide load. 

Arriving through the rear entrance of Wilpena Pound campsite can only be described as a complete sensory overload. After being virtually on our own for three days we were suddenly thrown into a jungle of campervans, vending machines, kids, buses, tourists, caravans, BBQ's and other people.....it was all too much. If we could have ridden straight through we would have. We contemplated the situation for some time before deciding the only way to escape the masses was to  book a room at the Wilpena Motel to protect us from the wild throng of people and provide a refuge. It also served as a convenient way to charge up camera batteries, do some washing and have a shower. 

Day Four 

Wilpena Pound - Rawnsley Park 

Heading out on the sealed road for a few kilometres we soon turned off and followed the Mawson Trail along an old telegraph track in the foothills of Wilpena Pound. Rawnsley Bluff is an impressive feature on the southeastern side of Wilpena Pound and we kept this on our right throughout the day as we moved from National Park to private property.

Well and truly in the rhythm of the journey we settled in and enjoyed some of the lesser seen parts of the area. Our daily routine had become second nature. Regardless of when we woke each morning it was generally 8:29am when our weary legs made their first pedal strokes out of camp. Sitting in the chariot Tahlia and Zephyr became comfortable with the adventure, and quickly got quite used to the idea of stopping for second breakfast and a second lunch each day. Every stop saw them exploring their new little playground of tress, rocks and dirt before jumping back in and continuing on our way.

Lunch Number Two

Day Five 

Rawnsley Park - Merna Mora Station

It's a little disconcerting when the first 10km of the day is all downhill as it usually means that the rest of the day is going to be up - luckily we had a tail wind behind us. Today saw us change direction and start heading north to take in the views of the western side of Wilpena Pound. Despite being on a vehicular track we only saw one or two cars all day. It was a little chilly today so our lunch included hot soup cooked on the side of the road. Our food and gas fuel supplies were going well so we figured we deserved to indulge!

The trip so far was going to plan. Tahlia and Zephyr were traveling well and as a family we had already overcome some big challenges. This first section provided some amazing scenery and interesting landscapes to travel through. Arriving at Merna Mora Station marked the beginning of phase two.

"Camp Nowhere"

Under normal circumstances planning a family camping trip over the Easter weekend would be out of the question. Marty tends to cringe at the mere thought. I would say it is a combination of bad traffic, hordes of people, booked out campsites and the general chaos that is associated with getting away over this iconic weekend. However, this time it seemed that we really had no choice. With only eleven sleeps to go before we headed off to the Flinders we desperately needed to have one last practice trip. It was a chance to see if Nemo lived up to his name, dust off our gear and prove to ourselves that we were indeed still up for the challenge.

So off we went into the wilds (or not so wilds) of the Buderoo Plataeu. It was stunningly beautiful with sweeping lush wetlands and the odd view of the escarpment to the west. A fire passed through the area not so long ago and the contrast of new green fuzzy regrowth against black burnt out trees seemed an appropriately hopeful landscape for the season.

Thirsty work

Surprisingly enough despite passing through several traffic jams en route (one in Burrawang - a town of a whopping 177 people), upon arriving at our destination we were the only car in the car park. Granted, Buderoo National Park probably wouldn't make the Sydney Morning Herald Top Ten list for places to take your family over Easter, but you would surely expect there to be someone else! We gave each other what was probably in hindsight a bit of a smug smile and got on with the task of unpacking the car and and loading up the bikes. Oh the serenity!

There were several eventful moments worth sharing, the first being that in the space of about an hour and a half I managed to not only ride over a snake but also step on one. The second was about an hour along the trail when we realized we had entirely forgotten to pack any breakfast for the following morning. The third and perhaps most significant was the moment when we came to understand why all other budding campers had chosen to forsake The Buderoo Plateau for perhaps more suitable options. For a quite weekend camping on your own just head somewhere with nowhere to camp!

Tahlia's face says it all....."Nooooooooooo"!

There's got to be a campsite around here somewhere!

By the time it got to 5pm we were still riding, still searching and seriously contemplating camping right in the middle of the gravel track. Luckily, we soon stumbled across what seemed to be the only cleared flat piece of ground for miles and despite being a little rocky it made a nice little home for the night!

Nemo.....standing proud.

Finding Nemo

It has been a crazy start to our year. The lack of time to even contemplate writing a blog entry is testament to that. We have, however, had many little family adventures over the last few months. I guess when time is of the essence it is far better to be off having adventures than worrying too much about writing of them!

It's been super wet in the Highlands this summer!

What recently dawned upon us is that our trip to the Flinders is a mere five weeks away. Needless to say that since this realization we have sprung into action and decided it is time to make a few plans. I say 'plans' in the most basic sense of the word. Knowing us, our plans will be more like vague ideas; a few thoughts strung together and combined conveniently with a bit of wishful thinking. For no matter how much time we have to plan, we almost always end up rushing out the door, throwing a heap of stuff in the car and hoping for the best!

"Hope is definitely not the same thing as optimism. It is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out"

At this point in time we are not terribly optimistic about our trip. Many number of things could happen along the way that completely destroy any romantic notions that we might currently have of how the journey should be. Yet, we are hopeful, because despite the fact that none of our 'not so carefully' made plans will most likely eventuate, the journey to get to wherever we end up is sure to be somewhat amazing.

Even for spontaneous and impulsive souls like ourselves there are some things which are best not left entirely to chance. We figure near the top of this list is probably our tent; our home away from home; our refuge so to speak. It is a place that we will crawl into at the end of each day utterly exhausted. It will hold our dreams for future journeys and memories of past ones. At some point during our search for this elusive shelter we stumbled upon Nemo. He sort of just appeared from out of the blue and won our hearts!

The Sound of Music

Letting your soul sing is challenging especially when you find yourself competing with an out of tune rendition of Old Macdonald had a Farm. No matter how far into the silent wilderness you manage to wander it is difficult to escape the white noise that is parenthood. Even in the 'wildest woods' a two year old is still a two year old, full of incessant questions and mutterings.

This harsh and somewhat disturbing realisation comes after the completion of our first overnight mountain bike trip; a two day and two night exploration of Barrington Tops National Park. At 1500m it was going to be a subalpine adventure along the Barrington Trail in an area we had never before ventured. The drive to where we would leave the car was slow and windy as we ascended some 1400m up the escarpment and onto the plateau.

Those first few wobbly pedal strokes out of the car park were satisfying indeed. We were on our way. Everything we needed for the next 48 hours we had firmly strapped and loaded on our bikes.

Barrington Trail

The Kit

You could say that it was a journey of discovery. We now know that one and a half sleeping mats between a family of four really isn't enough, that even a couple of days without coffee will in fact bring on withdrawal symptoms, that padded bike shorts are essential, that although the food gets lighter throughout the journey the nappies just get heavier and that the one time you choose to ignore Tahlia's whining in the hope of teaching her some resilience turns out to be the time that she's trapped inside the chariot with a spider crawling on her.

But we also learnt how satisfying it felt to ride into camp at the end of a long day, to be self sufficient and to know that we had everything our little family needed right there, to collect water from the tiny creek at the bottom of the campsite, to sit and watch at dusk the wild brumbys cautiously make their way towards us and to spend a few days and nights lost in our own little world. Maybe there was some music of the soul after all.

Our First Campsite

Morning Tea Time

The Tent Makes a Great Play Pen

Down and Out

We were procrastinating. The hike back up to Long Point was going to be tough. By now it was the middle of the day and we were feeling lazy having spent the last few hours chilling out on the banks of the Shoalhaven. When you climb a mountain you know that your efforts will be rewarded. Your goal is the summit and each step is one step closer to the top. Once you reach your destination the rest is easy, a downhill cajole to the bottom. We did the opposite, which I guess is what happens when you live at the top of an escarpment. The morning was spent meandering our way down a narrow and steep spur line. The views were spectacular and what was best of all was that we had them all to ourselves.

The track down from Long Point to McCallums Flat is not on your typical tourist walking map. It was perfect, we felt like we were in the middle of the nowhere but we didn't have to hike for three days to get there. The spur at times dropped off on both sides being perhaps only a couple of metres wide in sections.

The valley below slowly started to encroach and the winding river became more visible. We dropped off the side of the spur to avoid King Pin Mountain and before we knew it we were there; on a grassy flat, shaded by Casuarinas, on the banks of the Shoalhaven. Our little oasis for the next couple of hours.

After sitting in a back pack for what seemed

like an eternity it didn't take Tahlia long 

to strip off and jump into the river. 

She could have stayed there all day. 

At her age it seems the world is full of little 

adventures to be had. Wet bare feet on pine 

needles.....it's what childhood's all about right?

Eventually we had to face the fact that there would

be no escaping the steep climb back out to the car.
So we reluctantly dried our feet in the sun, dusted
off the dirt and put our shoes back on. It's worth
noting that only 1km into the walk that morning, both
of Marty's trusty old hiking boots lost their soles at the
exact same moment that one of mine also lost it's sole.
Luckily strapping tape comes in handy for all sorts of
things. It's also worth noting that Tahlia, despite being
given a talk about appropriate foot attire for such an
outing, insisted on wearing her 'pretty' shoes. Seems
that she is much more fashion conscious than her
mother and although she didn't say anything at the
time I think she was secretly quite smug that her shoes
were the only ones that actually made the journey
without falling apart!