The Powerline Highway

Q. How does a mountain biker get from one side of town to the other?
A. Via as many dirt tracks as possible!

Today’s adventure started at Springfield Central – a new housing development south of Ipswich.

We caught the train to the end of the line, jumped off, and pointed our bikes to the east. We wanted to follow power line tracks for much of the way to Beenleigh, on the other side of town, where we’d catch another train home.

But like most mountain bikers, we weren’t interested in riding on the road, so we tried to keep off-road as much as possible.

After a few minutes pedaling through Springfield, we jumped the gate and disappeared into the thick bushland at Spring Mountain.

It’s a bit hilly in places, with soft sand on the tracks. We had to push the bikes in a couple of spots.

Eventually we reached the Yaddamun Trail.

We’re ridden through here several times before…

… following power lines over tree-clad hills.

After a few kilometres, we left the familiar trails and headed down the hill towards New Beith.

It’s not a good place to park your car 🙂

We emerged among quiet acreage properties with friendly dogs, and followed horse trails eastward behind the houses.

Around Greenbank, we had to ride on quiet paved roads for a while. We stopped to refuel at the local shopping centre, then headed back into the bush.

Power line tracks are a godsend for mountain bikers. We continued to follow the magical wires east for a few more kilometres.

“Oh look! Single track!” Jason yelled out.

“Let’s follow it!”

We tagged along behind him while he snaked through the trees.

The detour only lasted a few minutes. Eventually the narrow track emerged back on the course we were following.

At Park Ridge we found more power line tracks.

These trails were covered with large jagged rocks.

I bounced over them, grateful for my tubeless tyres. I don’t think inner tubes would have lasted long on this surface.

The jagged rocks finally disappeared, and we ended up on a pleasantly smooth trail which disappeared into the distance between two endless rows of trees.

At Logan Village we stopped for a quick snack at the local pub.

“You’re not going to like the next bit,” I casually said to Paul as we rode away.

“Why not?”

“It’s a bit steep”

The climb up into Plunkett Reserve from Millar Road was brutally steep. I had difficulty even walking up it with my bike.

“This is the sort of place you should bring people you don’t like” I joked with Paul.

Everyone agreed, and wondered what they had done to me to cause me to bring them up such a horrible hill.

We stopped for a while at the top of the climb to catch our breath before following the ridge northwards.

The track led us northwards along a farm fence line, then suddenly ended.

There was no trail for the final pinch of the day. It was a tough slog through scrub, clambering over rocks and fallen trees.

After a bit of bush bashing we emerged at a clearing on top of the hill, with great views to the north.

My brakes complained loudly as we rolled down the other side of the hill. I made a mental note to pay the bike shop a visit over the next few days.

Buccan Reserve was our last section of bushland before we reached Beenleigh.

We had already climbed about 1,300 metres in elevation and our legs were sore. Thankfully the tracks were reasonably flat. It was a pleasant roll through the eucalupt forest.