Darb is moving permanently to Tasmania. Today was our last chance to ride with him before the move. He suggested we ride some local trails, because that’s “where it all began” for many of us.
Over seven hundred kilometres west of Brisbane, Charleville is home to more than 3,000 people and a thriving pastoral industry.
My friend Simon caught the train there recently, and rode his bike back to Brisbane.
This is his story.
Sometimes the voices in my head suggest that I try something different. Most of the time I ignore them, but today I did not. And so I went for a long walk.
Fraser Island is beautifully stunning.
We recently spent a few days there, exploring the northern half of the island.
My friend Eric often says that when it has been raining for a while, with more to come, the best place to ride is the beach.
His advice paid off today.
Black Duck Creek lies in a hidden valley a long way south of Gatton, snuggled under the towering slopes of the Great Dividing Range.
The tides were favourable. The temperatures were cool. A paddle on the Caboolture River seemed like a good idea.
Most times it’s not about the destination.
Sometimes it’s not even about the journey – it’s about the people you share it with.