If you follow the Brisbane River upstream as far as you can go, it eventually splits in two branches. Our adventure today took us in a big loop through through the most upper reaches of the Brisbane River, along its Eastern and Western Branches.
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Totdays adventure was a point-to-point ride from Blackbutt (on the Great Dividing Range) to Toogoolawah (in the Brisbane Valley) via portions of the Bicentennial National Trail through Emu Creek and Anduramba.
I drove the support vehicle while Darb and Eric rode the mountain bikes.
Although I’ve ridden through here several times before via the Brisbane Valley Rail Trail, this was my first look at this section of the Bicentennial National Trail. My friends Graham and Rients had ridden some of our route a week or two before us, and graciously gave me their track log to help me plan our ride.
Blackbutt is a beautiful little town. The cool thing about the local pub is that it still has rings on the posts outside so you can tie up your horse. It was too early in the day for us to pay a visit to the “Radnor” Hotel, so we set off out of town along the road to Crows Nest.
My plan was to drive ahead, set myself up, and take some pics of the guys as they rode past. But I underestimated how fast mountain bikes can go. Eric and Darb are strong riders, and although I had driven what I thought was a reasonable distance, as soon as I got out of the car and looked back, they had caught up with me.
I yelled some obscure abuse at them to slow down, but they just laughed at me.
The rolling farmland here had a unique beauty. The horizon felt like it was further away than usual and the sky seemed higher.
Eventually the plains gave way to a steep descent, and we dropped down to Emu Creek. Although this boulder-strewn creek is quite shallow, it becomes a raging torrent after heavy rain. The landscape changes from year to year as it is continually sculpted by floodwaters.
Today, thankfully, the creek crossing was a mere trickle.
After the creek crossing we had a steep climb out of the gorge with gradients of up to 25% for almost 1km. Huge granite boulders towered over us on one side, while the hill dropped sharply down to the creek on the other. This is a stunning trail.
Eventually the steep grind gave way to more rolling plains. We encountered this fascinating property at the top. If you’re interested, “Wayta Buggery” is for sale. It’s in the middle of nowhere, but I suspect this would probably be a “pro” not a “con” for the right buyer.
The road wound through numerous cattle properties and over countless grids, lazily following the contours of the land. Although Darb and Eric were working quite hard, I enjoyed the slow drive – not having to worry about deadlines. If you ever feel like a leisurely relaxing drive for a few hours, this is the perfect route.
It’s good for the soul to stop once in a while to soak in the panorama and be dwarfed by the landscape.
Perhaps that’s part of the reason that Eric and Darb kept catching up with me. Stopping to take pictures, losing track of time, I shouldn’t have been so surprised when I looked up to see them rolling past me.
At this point the route of the Bicentennial National Trail became a bit confusing. It has recently changed. Previosuly it headed eastwards through Nukienda Station, ending up at Eskdale. Today, our track took us further south, on an alternative part of the trail to Anduramba.
Anduramba Hall is a charming old building made from Galvanized Iron and surrounded by boundless plains of farmland. It was just past the halfway point of the ride, and had a friendly little picnic shelter out front, so we stopped here for lunch.
The grounds surrounding the hall were well looked after. The gardens were carefully maintained. The buildings were in good repair. In the city, we take this sort of thing for granted. I slowly turned around and couldn’t see another human anywhere. I realized that caring for a place like this, far from anywhere, takes a lot of work and dedication. These cheerful rural halls are hallmarks of a generous community spirit.
At this point we started heading east towards Toogoolawah. On future rides it might be fun to turn right instead, and explore “The Bluff” and Crows Nest. What do you think, Eric?
Halfway along the road to Toogoolawah, we stopped at Eskdale Station. This was where we met up with the old Bicentennial National Trail route again. The road here is hilly. Eric and Darb looked tired, hot and thirsty. Darb told me they were averaging about 20 km/h for the ride. That’s a cracking pace almost twice the speed we normally ride at. It was an impressive effort.
As they rode off, I had a look at Ivory Creek – one of the major watercourses in this area that eventually flows into the Brisbane River. The water here is crystal clear. On a hot day like this it was really tempting to ditch the clothes and jump in.
I made my way back to Toogoolawah to wait for my friends. The last part of their ride was northwards along the rail trail. Although the trains are gone, the railway bridge over Cressbrook Creek is still there.
As I stood at the trailhead near Toogoolawah, I could see Eric and Darb in the distance. They had done it. Slightly disappointed I couldn’t ride it with them, I was still grateful for being able to experience such a beautiful adventure.
All up, 78km in four and a half hours, including breaks. There was about 1,400m of climbing and about 1,700m of descent. Average moving speed of 20.6 km/h.
An amazing effort. Darb tells he he’d like to rate this one 9 out of 10 on the tough-o-meter. On this early spring day it was hot. In summer it would be really difficult.
Thanks, Eric and Darb, for including me in a great day.
Every year in September, hundreds of Australia’s mountain biking elite take part in “The Epic” – a gruelling race from Hidden Vale Adventure Park at Grandchester, over the Little Liverpool Range to Mulgowie, and then back over the range to the starting point.
Today we wanted to ride the race route in reverse, at a more sedate pace, and enjoy the views along the way.
I usually end up at the back of the pack when exploring with my riding buddies, but today I was nursing a painful calf injury which slowed me down a bit more. Strangely, it was much more painful for me to walk than to ride, so I found myself pedalling harder on some of the hills to avoid the discomfort of having to push the bike up the hill.
As we rode higher up the Little Liverpool Range, the tracks became narrower, steeper and rougher. Rain and cattle made the tracks very muddy, then the sun baked the mud dry. This left a rough, crusty surface with rocks protruding through at the most inopportune places. Riding this section required a lot of concentration. I fell off a couple of times and head-butted a rock. Thankfully the rock was unharmed.
The Razorback trail became even steeper as we got closer to the top. Normally, during the Epic, racers would come rushing down this hill, with less experienced riders crashing, and bodies lying all over the place while the elite riders survived the treacherous decent. Today we had to push up this hill which was hard work. Darb took pity on me, and pushed my bike up the last part of the hill whilst I hobbled up, continually thanking him as I went.
The views at the top were stunning. We could see for miles in every direction. The deep blue sky arched over us, while the fog still covered the Bremer Valley to the east, and the water sparkled in one of the distant Hidden Vale dams. Why would you be anywhere else on a day like this?
We found ourselves frequently stopping to soak up the views…
… and eventually decided to take a snack break at a remote picnic table that seemed to have been placed there for the sole purpose of enjoying the beautiful vista.
Eventually we reached the western boundary of the Hidden Vale property, at the top of Brown Springs Road. Scaling the locked gate, we were now officially in the Lockyer Valley, at the top of a long fast gravel road which descended into Mulgowie.
After the intense ups and downs of the Razorback trail, it was relaxing to roll sedately through the surrounding famrland.
The food at the Mulga Pub was delicious. We propped the bikes up outside and chilled out for an hour. One of the blokes in the pub came outside and told us he was thinking of racing in The Epic this year. As I relaxed in the winter sun, I thought to myself – “Why would you race through a lovely place like this”. I’d like to come back to The Mulga Pub again sometime.
After lunch we took it easy for a few km as we made our way south along Mulgowie Road towards Red Gap Road. Red Gap is one of the few passes over the Little Liverpool Range. We had another fun climb ahead.
The smooth gravel road gave way to steeper more technical trails…
After reaching the top, we enjoyed another fast and bumpy downhill run along the eastern part of Red Gap Road. Eventually we stopped outside “Farmer Jo’s Place” to re-group. I could hear dogs barking in the distance, and then noticed the warning sign: Beware. Guard Dogs on Duty. The dogs were coming for us.
That is the cutest guard dog I have ever met. Farmer Jo introduced herself, and her dogs. I love the chance encounters we often have with interesting people (and animals) on our rides!
In order to link this ride up with previous rides on my Ride Network Map, everyone agreed to take a short detour south, so that we could meet up with Hodges Road – part of the Bicentennial National Trail, east of Edwards Gap. From there we thought we’d follow the Hodges Road reserve eastwards through a Eucalyptus plantation.
This involved crossing a few creeks which Eric boldly traversed while I stood prevaricating on the banks, wondering how I’d keep my feet dry.
The grass was high between the trees, but we were able to follow the paths worn by cattle. Cows have an uncanny knack of picking the most convenient trail through rough country. They follow the same trail continuously, until a nice smooth single track is blazed through the grass. So if you ever ride through cattle country, remember the adage – Follow the cattle, but avoid the cow-pats.
Our little detour eventually brought us to Franklin Vale Road – another enjoyable road reserve which is impassable to cars, but perfect for mountain bikes.
And this brought us back to the Hidden Vale property, and its almost endless network of single tracks.
I got a bit carried away. I rocketed through the winding trails, boldly leaping from drop-offs, flying over rocks. This was fun… until I crashed. After head-butting a tree, I lay on my back with my head pointing down the hill, feet uphill, bike on top of me, and stars orbiting my head.
“IS THE BIKE OK???” I yelled.
It was. And so was I, after Jason helped me up, then took a photo of me to record the event.
“Today is Saturday, isn’t it?” I said, trying to prove to Jason that I was still “with it”, and capable of finishing the ride.
With the winter sun lowering towards the western horizon, we made our way back to Hidden Vale via some lazy tracks.
What an amazing day. Thanks so much to Rebecca, Eric, Darb, Paul and Jason for a fun ride.
Eric thinks that this was an easy ride. He rated it 7 out of 10. I laughed at him. For mortals like me, this rates at least 8 and a half out of 10 on the tough-o-meter. Perhaps that has something to do with my injury. This would be a tough ride in Summer, so it’s best done in the cooler, drier months.
And to anyone who has successfully completed “The Epic” – well done!
Eric and I had a couple of objectives today:
I had a few gaps in my Ride Network Map which I wanted to fill in. We’ve done a few rides in this area recently, and it would be satisfying to link them all up.
Also, Eric wanted to check out a few tracks near Toowoomba to help him plan an off-road route from Brisbane to Toowoomba.
Jaime from Toowoomba Mountain Bike Club kindly agreed to join us for the ride. When exploring new areas, it’s always helpful to bring a local š
We started our adventure at Withcott – a small town at the bottom of the Great Dividing Range. While heavy traffic whizzes through here trying to pick up speed before climbing up the hill to Toowoomba, our plan was for quieter trails. We rode south from Withcott up some quiet back streets towards Tabletop Mountain. Berghoffer Drive and Tabletop Road are very steep paved roads. If you’re interested, have a look at the Google Street View link here. We slowly ground our way to the top of the road, wondering what we had got ourselves into.
But as any seasoned Mountain Biker will tell you (especially if Road Bike riders are within ear-shot), paved roads, even steep ones, are nothing compared to the challenge of off-road climbs.
We slowly climbed up the range – sometimes pedalling, mostly pushing our bikes upwards.
The views to the east were delightful.
My brother-in-law, Paul, lives in Toowoomba, and met us at the top. We carefully scurried across the busy Warrego Highway at the top of the Range and made our way towards Jubilee Park.
Jubilee Park is a mixed-use reserve which sits on the edge of the mountain stretching down the hill from Prince Henry Heights and Mount Lofty towards Withcott.
It boasts a variety of single tracks downhill runs, and a “bridle trail”. Because of recent rain, we decided to avoid the single tracks, and rolled down the hill along the bridle trail.
We had more great views on the way down, but the sticky mud quickly collected on my wheels and totally clogged them up. I had to pull out handfulls of mud from the wheel arches and chain stays just so I could get the wheels turning again.
When we reached the bottom we took a few minutes out at the picnic shelter to scrape off the rest of the mud and prepare for the next big climb. I was a bit worried about Paul. He had only ridden a bike once in the last year because of an injury, and I wasn’t sure how he’d cope with the next bunch of steep muddy hills.
Wallens Road winds back up the range from Withcott to the railway siding at Ballard. There are very few flat sections. It’s all either uphill or down. In wet weather, most of it is muddy.
We slid down several precipitous slippery tracks, and heaved the bikes up some equally challenging slopes before finally emerging to the luxury of reasonably graded dirt road. Jaime assured us we were only 15 minutes away from our lunch stop at Spring Bluff, so Paul put in a quick call to Karen to drive down to pick him up and meet us for lunch.
The short drive up to Spring Bluff Railway Station involves a nasty little 25% climb. The thought of lunch kept us turning the pedals. Paul had an added incentive as Karen was watching. Well done, Paul. That was a great effort for someone who hasn’t been on the bike much lately.
Eric often says “Hunger makes the best sauce”. I agreed with him as I inhaled my delicious burger.
The railway line up the Main Range was constructed between 1864 and 1867. Highfields Railway Station was important because it served as a watering stop for locomotives struggling up the range, and was a loading point for Timber and Dairy products from the Highfields area. Railway Commissioner Gray was particularly fond of the area, and renamed it “Spring Bluff” in 1890. In its heyday in the 1900’s, the station handled over 5,000 passengers per year.
These days it’s much quieter, although you can still sometimes catch a steam train to Warwick.
After lunch we enjoyed a leisurely roll down the hill towards Murphys Creek.
Then, heading into the bush along “Green Gully Road”, we made our way towards the Bicentennial National Trail (BNT).
It’s always nice to meet fellow travellers on the trail. I don’t often see bikes like this though š
The gruelling mud on Green Gully Road made progress very difficult. We couldn’t ride much of it, because the mud stuck to the wheels. In fact even when I pushed the bike, the wheels became clogged with mud. So I carried it. It was hard work, but I laughed about it – even a muddy day on the bike is better than a day indoors.
We eventually reached the BNT on Stevens Road and enjoyed a few precarious downhills on the homeward run towards Withcott.
It might look like a quiet country lane, but this trail is an important route stretching from Cooktown to Melbourne down the great dividing range. I often wonder who has recently passed by on their way north or south.
Before finally arriving in Withcott, we washed the mud off the bikes in a flooded causeway. Eric seemed surprised when I joined in because it meant getting my feet wet.
We rode just over 50km in 7 hours. It was slow going. We climbed about 1,600 metres and I burned about 3,500 kcal.
I’d rate this one 8 out of 10 on the tough-o-meter.
A word of warning though – the mud makes it very difficult after wet weather. The climbs would be difficult in summer. This is probably a ride you’d want to try in the drier, cooler weather of early spring.
Thanks Eric, Jaime and Paul for yet another fun adventure!
Queensland has its very own “Egypt” – a spectacular plateau to the south-east of Toowoomba with amazing views of the Lockyer Valley. Today’s adventure took us to the heights of Egypt following portions of the Bicentennial National Trail (BNT) as well as old tracks that were once used in the Flight Centre Epic mountain bike race.
We rode from Withcott with some new friends, Tamsin and Richard, who were familiar with many of the trails in the area, and were able to point us in the right direction when planning the ride.
There’s no chance to “warm up” when riding along the BNT out of Withcott. The hills start almost immediately. One of the first major climbs is “Silver Pinch” which takes you up to Silver Ridge, near the Toowoomba Golf Club at Middle Ridge.
As with most climbs, we were rewarded afterwards with a wonderful twisty descent down Horsfalls Lane towards Upper Flagstone Creek. It was a cold day, and I was grateful for the warm gear I was wearing as the wind whipped past us on the way down.
After following the creek for a short while, we left the paved road and followed the BNT up a dirt track leading up to Preston.
And this was to be the pattern of the day. Tough climbs. Short break at the top. Wonderful quick descent š
Some of the hills were a bit too steep to ride in places, but it still felt great to be out in this wonderful part of the world.
We eventually made it up the climb to Preston – a picturesque hilltop village with its own Chapel and Vineyard. (Note to self, lets come back here in a few weeks with the family for a leisurely drive)
One of the hidden treasures of Preston is a lookout, not far from the winery. I only found out about this gem by reading Shannon Wall’s excellent blog “Biking the BNT” in which he describes his adventures riding a mountain bike along the BNT from Cooktown to Aratula (over 3,000 km). The panorama is worth the small detour from the main road. Thanks for letting us know about it, Shannon!
Richard suggested we leave the BNT at this point, and ride up to the Egypt Plateau via the small villages of Rockmount and Stockyard.
What followed was another eye-watering descent down from Preston in which we lost about 500 metres of altitude over 10 km.
Wow!
At the bottom, Paul pointed out to me that while he enjoyed the ride down, he was reluctant to give up so much altitude. Because as any intrepid mountain biker will tell you, you must pay your dues to the gravity gods. What goes down must go up. And so we met Kennedys Road.
It starts with a bit of a giggle. There are a few letter boxes at the bottom, and a rusty old fridge, that makes an effective letter box if you’re expecting large parcels.
But the climb is tough.
As usual, I was the last one up the hill.
I kept my legs turning over by reciting Banjo Patterson’s “Clancy of the Overflow” to myself. The rhythm and imagery kept my mind off the effort.
And so we made it up onto the Egypt Plateau, where we all collapsed on the grass opposite an old fig tree, and enjoyed our lunch. Eric (relaxing on his back) says the best sauce is hunger. I agree with him. Peanut butter sandwiches never tasted so good.
We stopped quite often to soak up the views. The rolling hills seemed to go on forever.
For some reason an old song by Elvis Presley starting going through my head. No prizes for guessing which one.
Each corner revealed a new vista…
… so we stopped quite often to enjoy the view.
Incidentally, this is one of the reasons I don’t do races. How could you possibly enjoy the view? (The other reason is that I don’t ride fast enough).
Great views with great friends. I can’t really thing of anything I’d rather be doing on a Saturday!
Eventually we hit the main road near Ma Ma Creek and started riding southwards. This imposing road cutting stretched high on either side of the road. There were warnings at either end alerting us to the possibility of falling rocks. Eric (ever wise) advised us all to keep riding. I couldn’t resist and had to stop and get a photo of it.
After about 55km riding, we stopped to fill up with water at this goregous old galvanized iron hall at Ma Ma Creek.
We then left the paved road, and started our way up a dirt track ominously named “Razorback Road”. This was the third major climb of the day. Good old Clancy came to lend a hand yet again as I re-recited the poem to myself.
This track was part of the “Epic” mountain bike race a few years ago. I thought about hardened racers grinding up this road. It was hard work at my slow pace. Imagine how painful it would be riding up this hill as fast as you could go?
The road passes through a couple of cattle properties on its way up to the Gap at the top.
The rugged landscape was stunning.
Jason kindly hung back on the climb to ride with me. He’s new to mountain biking, but his legs are accustomed to working hard on the road bike. It’s hard to keep up with him on the hills.
At the bottom of another exhillarating descent, we came across this gorge at Lagoon Creek.
It’s amazing what you find off the beaten track.
After one more climb, we eventually reached the top of West Haldon Road. In the Epic MTB Race, some riders were clocked at 110 km/h riding down this hill. It had a bit too much loose gravel for my liking, so I decended much more sedately today!
To the south we looked towards Glenrock National Park below the peaks of Goomburra. I haven’t been there. Yet š
What a wonderful place we live in!
We enjoyed the relaxing doanhill coast into Mount Sylvia. Our generous driver for the day, “Wavey Davey” met us here and drove us home. Point to point rides are always logistically challenging, and I’m so grateful for the time “Wavey” kindly gave to us today. Thanks mate!
Thanks also to Tamsin and Richard for showing us around their specatcular back yard.
We rode 85km, and climbed over 2,100m in vertical ascent, in under 7 hours, including breaks. I burned about 3,700 kcal. It was a cold day, and we worked very hard.
This ride deserves 9.5 out of 10 on the tough-o-meter.
To anyone who rode this route for the Epic race – you are tough as nails. Well done!
Oh – can anyone tell me how it this place got to be named Egypt please?
There’s an unusual creek which flows down from the Great Dividing Range below Toowomba.
Aborigines used to hunt for fish in this creek, which could at times run dry, and at other times transform into a raging torent during the wet season. Once a grass fire swept through the area and burned the fishing nets of the local tribe. So from that day they called the place “Tamamareen” which means “Place where the fishing nets got burned by a grass fire”.
In the 1860’s, a shepherd named Murphy built a hut in the rough foothills near this creek.
Several years later in 1867, a water tank and railway station were built at the bottom of the range to service steam engines grinding their way up the range to the Darling Downs. They decided to name the station after the local creek, which by then was known as Murphys Creek after the shepherd.
In a short while, a small town had sprung up around the railway station.
According to historical writer, Van Derek, Chinese market gardeners camped by the creek in the 1860’s and 1870-‘s. They grew vegetables which they then sold to the men working on the railway line.
Disaster struck when a torrential downpour caused a flash flood of the creek, drowning the Chinese who were camped on its banks. Local rumour has it that there is a mass grave in the Murphy’s Creek Cemetery containing the bodies of the victims of that flood.
And as most Queenslanders will tell you, this fickle creek had the final word in 2011, when it broke its banks again, and destroyed an entire town.
A dozen of us rode off from Helidon to explore this fascinating part of the world.
Since Helidon was pretty much the lowest part of the ride, we started with some gentle climbs near Lockyer before having to work our legs harder as we neared Murphys Creek.
Heading down cemetery road, past the legendary mass chinese grave, we could see some of the challenging foothills that lay ahead. These hills comprised the “small climb”. We’d grind up to about the 600 metre level, and then enjoy a quick downhill run before taking on the “big climb” up Fifteen Mile Road to Hampton at almost 800 metres altitude.
It might have been the “small climb” but the hills around Murphys Creek are tough to ride. At times we had to push the bikes.
Some of the hills were so tough, we couldn’t even push the bikes up them. We let Steeve get halfway up this hill (so we could photograph him) before we decided to turn around and try an easier route. I don’t think Steeve minded too much š
Thank, Jeff, for showing us an easier way through the bush. I think we’d still be in there fighting our way out if it wasn’t for you.
Eventually the monster hills gave way to undulating terrain, and we enjoyed the relatively flat tracks as we gave our legs time to recover. We had crested the “small climb”.
These trails were wonderful. For about six kilometres we wound our way down steep tracks on narrow trails, tyres sliding on the gravel, jumping over waterbars, and hardly having to pedal at all.
I loved it!
The trail spat us out, as steep trails often do, in the middle of some grassy fields at the bottom of a place descriptively named “Fifteen Mile”. We had a bit of a snack here, which was a good thing, because the “big climb” lay ahead.
Fifteen Mile Road is a nine kilometre ascent which rises about 450 metres. I was the slowest up the hill, so all I managed to photograph was Steeve ahead of me, snaking up the hill, trying to make the climb a bit easier while slowly wending through the blanket of green eucalypts either side of the smooth clay road.
But all hills eventually come to an end, and soon we were coasting over the rolling plateau at the top, near Hampton.
The cafe at Hampton serves delicious mountain bike fuel. The Lamb-burger, short black and Chocolate Milkshake hardly touched the sides.
“Now where’s a hammock so I can have a short nap?” I pondered.
With lunch over, and satiated riders back on bikes, we rocketed down the bitumen along Esk-Hampton Road towards the lookout. This is a busy road, mostly downhill, so we enjoyed the free roll down to Perseverance.
The sign says: “Small Cheer and Great Welcome Makes a Merry Feast” – William Shakespeare.
I couldn’t agree more š
The hills out the back of Perseverance were hard work – especially after such a relaxing lunch. But the surrounding countryside was picturesque.
A couple of us ended up falling in the mud after coming across this muddy bog at the bottom of a hill. I thought I’d try and get a picture of Eric doing the same, but he gave us all a lesson in negotiating slippery terrain, and eased through without faltering. You da man, Eric.
Our tribe of bedraggled muddy riders emerged from the forest to Gus Beutels Lookout. Even though it was cloudy, the view didn’t disappoint. Even the rain clouds rolling in from the south didn’t obscure the panorama.
Rain clouds?
“Do you think we’ll get back before the rain hits us?” somebody asked.
Maybe š
And so began the “big descent” down Seventeen Mile Road – a long (mostly) dirt road, stretching 30 kilometres back to Helidon, with only one or two uphill sections.
There were one or two near misses on the screaming descent. Dom took a corner a bit too widely and ended up colliding with some rocks. “You were a bit lucky there, Dom”, I said. It could have been a lot worse, but he only suffered a few scratches and bruises.
I took a slight detour so that this route would connect with the rest of my map. Half the group kept rolling down the hill while I did this, and few waited. Unfortunately this meant we copped the rain during the final part of the ride, while the others arrived back nice and dry.
But a little bit of rain at the end of a tough ride is almost pleasant.
This ride was 83km and took 7 hours including breaks. We climbed a total of 1,833m. I burned about 3,500 kcal.
I’d rate this one 9 out of 10 on the tough-o-meter. This was in cool rider-friendly weather. I wouldn’t attempt it in summer.
Thanks everyone for a fantastic ride. Geeze I have some great friends.
Today’s ride was a point-to-point epic starting at Mount Sylvia south of Gatton, following the Bicentennial National Trail (BNT) towards Cunningham’s Gap.
The BNT is an amazing recreational trekking route stretching 5,300 km along Australia’s Great Dividing Range from Cooktown in North Queensland to Healseville in Victoria. Following historic aboriginal trails and stock routes, the trail was opened in 1988, allowing self-supporting adventurers to traverse one of the longest off-road touring trails in the world, passing through some stunningly scenic country.
We decided to explore one small 90km section of the trail, starting at Mount Sylvia (near Gatton in the Lockyer Valley) and passing south-eastwards over a couple of mountain ranges before finally ending up at Clumber near Cunningham’s Gap.
We planned to finish our ride at a different place to where we started. This usually involves time-consuming arrangements where we bring multiple vehicles, leave one at the destination, then all drive back to the start. To save time, my friend Jason kindly volunteered to drive us to Mount Sylvia (two hours drive from Brisbane), drop us off, then meet us again at the end of the day at Cunningham’s Gap. It’s the first time we’ve had a “chauffeur” and I appreciated the convenience that it gave us.
We set off down Left-Hand Branch Road which follows a long narrow valley along Tenthill Creek up into the Liverpool Range. Blue skies, low temperatures, and a nice flat-ish road – what a perfect way to start the day!
At the end of the valley, we met a friendly farming couple who happily told us that the local council had only just fixed the road yesterday, and that if we’d come any earler we would have had to contend with land-slips and blockages. They then added:
“Oh and by the way, I hope you realize it’s all up-hill from here?”
They were right. The road slowly started getting steeper. All good mountain bikers like a decent hill climb, but the road up to Laidley Gap is not your average hill!
We all gave it an honest attempt. My GPS tells me the gradient maxed-out at just under 40%. Not even Eric, with his deisel moter of a heart and iron legs could ride up it. So we pushed….
…and eventually reached the top. The friendly little red arrows let us know we were on the right route. Paul actually made and placed these arrows on the track a couple of years ago when it was used as part of a famous mountain biking race called “The Epic”. In those days, this 120km race ran from Toowoomba to Grandchester through some of the toughest country around. In 2010, Andrew Pioch set the record for this climb, completing it in just over 11 minutes averaging almost 10km/h. It took me 17 minutes. Andrew must be an amazing rider.
Keen-eyed Eric spied a “Blaze” in the trunk of an old Ironbark Tree. If you look closely above his head you’ll see a yellow triangular BNT marker. These little markers are all along the trail and help to let you know that you’re on the right track.
As with all big climbs, it was worth the effort for the views and the exhillarating descent down the other side. Superlatives can’t do it justice. I was stunned by the views I saw.
And for the next short while, a huge grin was plastered across my face as I enjoyed a steep 10 km descent, wind howling in my ears, gravel crunching under my tyres, and trees rushing by in an adrenaline induced blur.
I was a kid again š
After rolling into the small town of Thornton, it didn’t take long to discover some major damage caused by floods earlier this year. The bridge had been totally washed away. There was no way across the creek. A deep ditch lay in front of us. We briefly contemplated climbing down, and then up the other side, but common-sense overruled. We decided to make a short detour and cross the creek several kilometres further north.
Along the way we dodged a some cattle being herded along the road by a farmer in his tractor.
It’s strange. When I usually come upon a bunch of cows on the road while riding a bike, they’re usually skittish and run away. But these animals seemed much calmer, and weren’t spooked by us. And the only difference I can come up with is that the farmer was behind them in his tractor. I imagine they felt more secure while being herded than they would be on their own.
After a brief stint on the bitumen, we followed the trail markers across another paddock towards Edwards Gap – our second big climb of the day. Paul was impressed with a letter box that someone had made to look like a tractor.
In the distance we could see the Liverpool Range and Laidley Gap where we had recently descended.
The climb up to Edwards Gap is another “hike-a-bike”. The track is steep and rough, but (thankfully) it’s not very long.
It wasn’t long before we reached the grassy summit of Edwards Gap and yet another pleasant bumpy descent down the other side towards Mount Mort.
From here we headed south with the towering cliffs of the Great Dividing Range on our right.
The exhillarating views provided a pleasant distraction to the hard work of pedalling the bike into a stiff headwind.
And so we reached the wonderful Rosevale Pub – our lunch stop. And we were early š
I had pre-arranged with Jason that I’d send him a message via my Spot Satellite Messenger once we reached Rosevale. If we got there late, we would take the shorter option and ride to Aratula. If we were on time we’d take the longer route over the Cunningham Highway and down to Clumber on Spicers Gap Road. I was excited to send Jason the “All ok” message that we’d be able to stick to the original plan and do the full route.
The Rosevale Pub has a fascinating story. Today it’s in the middle of nowhere by the side of the BNT.
It’s the oldest pub in Queensland, built in 1852 as a Homestead that provided liquor to travellers. Mathew Carmody was granted a victuallers license in 1887. In 1893 there was a huge flood which covered most of the surrounding plains, so the owners decided to move the pub about 1 mile to its present location.
The move required a couple of bullock teams to haul the building across the fields.
It took five days. During that time, while the building was on the wagons, it still traded. Can you imagine thirsty travellers buying grog fron a pub building that was rolling along on a dray as it was pulled through a field by a couple of teams of bullocks? Where else but Queensland? š
Today, the publican tells us that a few days prior some people came through leading a pack of camels heading south. A few days before that it was a bloke on horseback. In a few days time he’s expecting a young lady riding northwards from NSW.
What an amazing place.
But, after a delicious lunch, we set off on the final leg of our trip…
I can’t do the views justice by trying to describe them. They were awesome in the true sense.
Imagine waking up to views like this every day?
We received a rude shock when we eventually reached the Cunningham Highway. The quiet rural tracks and solitude gave way to busy national highway with massive trucks whizzing by. We accidentally missed the track that passed through the bush 100m from the road, so decided to soldier on for a short way on the shoulder of the highway.
We were following the notes in the BNT guide book, but they seemed vague at this point, and we ended up crossing the highway near an old quarry. While this might have been appropriate for travellers on horseback it was too rough for bikes.
If you’re planning to ride this section of the BNT by bike, I’d suggest you follow the highway up to the Helipad 1km to the west, and cross there. You’ll save yourself a lot of hassle.
At the top of one last hill by the side of the highway we came across this memorial. Erected by the Vagabond Motorcycle Cllub I think it commemorates members who have died. There are a few empty beer bottles cemented into the monument, so I can imagine a few melancholy bikies standing in this scenic spot drinking wistful a toast to absent friends.
From this point we rolled southwards down the hill towards Pat Speedy’s farm, trying not to bother his cattle too much. Pat used to be a rodeo clown – one of the toughest jobs you can do. The man must have nerves of steel. He survived a horrible encounter with the horn of an angry bull.
I would have liked to meet him today, but unfortunately he wasn’t home.
And off in the distance, across a paddock, we spied our cheerful van and generous driver. We’d made it. We were half an hour late, but delighted to have finished this small part of our trip.
Thank you to Eric, Paul and Becca for another amazing ride.
BIG thanks to Jason, our driver, for giving up a Saturday to drive a van full of sweatty mountain bikers around the country side. Our van travelled a total of 520 km for the day and went through one complete tank of fuel.
We ended up riding 87km in about seven and a half hours. We climbed about 1,300m and I burned about 3,500 kcal.
This is a tough ride, logistically and physically. It helps to do it with other experienced riders.
If you take the route we did, and finish at Spicers Gap Road, I’d rate it 9.5 out of 10 on the tough-o-meter.
If you take the easier option and finish at Aratula instead, I’d rate it 8.5 out of 10.
It’s supposed to be all down-hill if you start a ride from its highest point. But contrary to what I told everyone before today’s epic, this ended up being one of the more difficult treks we’ve done.
This was a point-to-point ride starting at the panoramic Gus Beutel’s Lookout, almost 760 metres above sea leval, near Ravensbourne on the Great Dividing Range. We intended to ride down the hill to Esk via some of the tracks that pass through Deongwar State Forest.
It’s logistically a bit more complicated when you starting and finishing a ride at different points. It means you need more cars. We met at Esk, parked some of the cars there, and bundled everyone and their gear into two of the vehicles which took us up the hill to the lookout.
The lookout is named after a German pioneer, Gustav Beutel, who settled in the area after emmigrating from Brandenburg in the nineteenth century. In 1924 he was granted a special lease to clear a one hectare section for a picnic ground and lookout for the many visitors who came to the Ravensbourne district to enjoy the rainforests and amazing views.
From the lookout we followed some quiet dirt roads around the back of Ravensbourne on our way to the State Forest.
This whole area was covered in thick rainforest prior to European settlement. It was the traditional home of the Jarowair and Jagera people, but contained important pathways for other indigenous groups travelling northwards for ceremonial gatherings in the Bunya mountains.
In the late nineteenth century, most of the forest was cleared for its valuable Cedar, Blackbean and Rosewood timber, and to provide land for potatoes, maize and dairy.
Since the 1920’s successive governments have tried to redress the damage caused by land-clearing, and today about 700 hectares of forest is protected in Ravensbourne National Park, with almost 5,000 hecatres set aside in Deongwar State forest.
Before entering Deongwar, we had to deal with a major obstruction. On the GPS we were supposed to be on a road, but (as often happens) the reality was that we had to pass through a dense thicket of Lantana. This prickly scourge sprouts thick branches which are difficult to push through, and rip your skin and clothes as you push through.
I took the easy option and let the other guys push through the overgrowth, and I followed meekly behind š
The discomfort was worth it. Not long after we were hurtling down some wonderful twisty single-tracks as we descended through Deongwar forest. The tracks conttinued for ages, mostly downhill with one or two sharp pinch-climbs to contend with, and a few water-bars to jump over. It was a lot of fun.
Eventually we found our way to Brennan Road. Its gentle downhill slope let us zip through the trees towards the more challenging ridgelines that dropped towards Cressbrook dam.
We chose a ridgeline which dropped us about 200 metres in the space of 2 kilometres. In places the downward gradient was over 20%. The track was covered in thick grass in many places, but it was surprisingly smooth to ride. Thankfully there were no hidden rocks or pot-holes!
Halfway down, we took a few minutes to enjoy the view of Cressbrook Dam and the picturesque lake behind it. It was built in the 1980’s to provide water for the nearby city of Toowoomba. All I could think of while looking at that spillway was how much fun it would be to ride down it on a boogie board before meeting your demise on the sharp rocks below. (What was I thinking?)
The aerial maps of this area show a track called “Sugarloaf Road”. From the air it looked like a nice track. Once got there, however, I quickly realized I was actually looking at a rock-strewn dry creek bed. It was almost impossible to ride over this natural rock garden, so we decided to push the bikes until we reached smoother terrain.
We had to cross Cressbrook Creek quite a few times.
I hate getting my feet wet, but today the water felt great!
This was the slowest part of the trip. A lot of the track was un-rideable. I lost count of the number of times we had to cross the creek. Eventually we took a bit of a break and enjoyed our lunch on the banks of Cressbrook Creek.
Although it was slow-going along the creek, the views were stunning. This steep slope was covered in forests of Hoop Pines strewn with vines. This was no tame plantation but a wild scrub that had obviously been too steep to harvest in logging days.
And after a couple of hours of slogging along a barely visible creekside track, we reached a lovely gravel road. It might have been hilly, but it was a joy to ride on compared to the rough terrain we’d had to cover so far.
We eventually passed a few farms, and chased well-fed cattle along the road (can you see them in the picture?), while at the same time trying to avoid fresh cow-pats. If you get the stuff on your front tyre, it can often flick up into your face, which changes the whole “flavour” of the day š
Our speed greatly improved as we progressed along the road. Eventually we joined Kipper Creek Road which is part of the Bicentennial National Trail – a 5,300km track stretching from Cooktown in North Queensland to Healesville in Victoria. For today, unfortunately, we only travelled on it a short way.
From there we made our way along the paved road towards Esk on the Brisbane Valley Highway.
The last leg of our trip was along the Brisbane Valley Rail Trail. This recreational track follows the course of a disused railway line, and is a much more enjoyable way to get into town on a bike than trying to battle cars on the highway.
We eventually made it back to Esk and enjoyed a well-earned drink and snack at the local bakery before driving back up the hill to retrieve the other vehicles.
Sunset at Gus Beutel’s Lookout is spectacular.
We rode a total of about 65km in six and a half hours. Our track descended about 1,730 metres, but we had to climb over 1,100 metres in the process – so this was no easy downhill roll. I burned just under 3,000 kcal.
This is a tough ride through some really rough country.
It deserves a rating of 9 out of 10 on the tough-o-meter.
Don’t do this ride alone. Cressbrook Creek would be dangerous and impassable after rain, so the ride is best done in the cooler drier months.
