Category: South East Qld

Maleny was built on timber – literally.

When the new Queensland Government repealed the “Bunya Proclamation” in 1859, they opened up large tracts of dense forest that had previously been protected for the benefit of local Aborigines. Timber-getters hungrily harvested thick forests on the mountains around Maleny.

The only problem was getting the massive logs down the mountain – which was where “The Shute” came in. The logs were slid down long steep shutes (that’s the old-fashioned way of spelling “chute”), such as McCarthy’s Shute, to waiting bullock drays at the bottom of the mountain. From there, the precious cargo would be lifted onto carts, and hauled to timber mills.

Today we followed the slippery path of the logs, and rode our bikes down McCarthy’s Shute.

Bernie kindly drove us up the mountain to our starting point at Mary Cairncross Reserve, on the outskirts of Maleny. Amid the damp mist and light drizzle, we headed westwards down the hill towards “The Shute”.

McCarthy’s Shute starts off as a picturesque hill gently winding down the slopes of the Blackall Range.

Even though they were wrapped in clouds, the surrouning hills looked pretty enough to prompt me to stop a few times for the obligatory photo 🙂

Eventually the road transforms into a “Shute” 🙂 It gets steep, muddy and slippery – perfect mountain biking terrain.

The “road” disappeared in one spot and we had to scramble over a gulf in the road a couple of metres wide.

We finally reached the bottom of the descent at Ewen Creek – a tributary of the Stanley River which runs only a couple of kilometres from here. (Yes, I got wet feet!)

The next physical challenge was a gruelling climb up Macdonalds Road. Thankfully it was paved, but this nasty little pinch reaches slopes in excess of 25% as it makes its way up one of the precarious peaks near Bald Knob. (Oh, why do cameras always make steep hills look flat???)

The sign says “No Through Road”, but once at the top of the climb, we followed a faint track down the hill again into the London Creek Environmental Reserve.

The track is steep, rough and muddy in places. At one spot, while riding over a steep drop-off, my front wheel got stuck in the mud, and I went over the handlebars in slow-motion. I was unhurt during this manouevre which seemed to take an eternity. But, sadly, I managed to break one of the spokes on my rear wheel. For some reason, the spokes on my Crank Brothers Cobalt Wheels seem to easily break – even though they’re advertised as tough cross-country wheels. On the up-side, it’s relatively easy to replace spokes, and I always carry spares in my pack, so we took a break for ten minutes while I fixed my rear wheel. This is the first time I’ve ever replaced a spoke – so I’m feeling very proud of myself at the moment 🙂

After putting the wheel back on the bike, we ground up another steep hill towards Mount Mellum. Hills are inevitable in Mountain Biking. The best approach is to get used to them. We normally arrive at the top out of breath, but the views are always worth the effort!

We made our way eastwards through Dullarcha National Park. Most people know this park for the “Rail Trail” which passes through it, but Dullarcha is much more than that. Nestled up against the Blackall Range, it’s very hilly in parts. We got a great view of the Glasshouse Mountains to the south as we passed over the railway tunnel on the North Coast line.

We followed the tracks from the hills above the railway line down to the muddy trails around Ewen Maddock dam.

The dam is full after recent rain, so we had to take one or two detours to avoid a couple of flooded tracks.

It had taken us over 3 hours to ride only 30 kilometres. This was hard work, so we stopped for a hearty lunch at Landsborough before heading back off into the forest.

The pine plantations near Landsborough are on flat terrain, so we enjoyed a leisurely after-lunch roll along some of the forestry trails.

Plantations gave way to National Park again as we rode through some beautiful (but boggy) Melaleuca forests near Beerwah.

Rolling past some of the strawberry farms, bustling with busy workers, I thought we’d temporarily ridden to another country 🙂

And just outside of our destination at Beerburrum, we stopped at an old aboriginal Bora Ring on the edge of a pineapple field. The sign said “Silent now” but sometimes I think if you use a bit of imagination you can hear the echoes of clapsticks and soft singing.

On the distant horizon, the heights of our starting point reminded us of where we had started the day.

After giving the bikes a quick hose-down, we hopped on the train for the quick ride back to Brisbane.

We rode 65 km in about 7 hours including breaks, climbing about 900 metres. I burned 3,000 kcal. The first part of this ride was the toughest. After lunch it was quite relaxing. Taking it all into account I’d rate it about 8 out of 10 on the tough-o-meter.

Thanks Becca end Eric for a fun day out.

Thanks Bernie for driving us to our starting point.

Today’s epic ride started at the small town of Jimna and followed some national park trails down the mountain before looping back again through some rugged country around Monsildale to the west.

There’s some disagreement about how the town got its name.

One theory is that when a Polish gold prospector named it “Zimme”, a polish word meaning “cold”, or “Zimna” the polish word for “winter”. In Polish, “Z” is pronounced as a soft “J”, so this theory is plausible since the prospector discovered gold in winter. And Jimna is quite cold at that time of year.

Another theory is that the name comes from the Aboriginal word “Jimna” which means “Place of many leeches”. A few of the riders from today’s voyage can vouch for the fact that there are quite a few leeches around here.

Personally, I tend to think the Aboriginal word is probably the likely origin of the name.

While driving to our starting point, we actually drove past the half way point of the ride, and were able to leave a car there to store some lunch and extra water. It also provided a bail-out option for anyone who didn’t want to continue the ride after the half-way point.

The valley to the south of Jimna was foggy, and leant an ethereal air to the morning while we parked our “Sag Wagon” at the half-way point.

A few minutes later we were up on the mountain in Jimna, above the fog. At the start of perfect clear-skied cool day, fifteen riders were getting ready for the ride.

Conondale National Park is very hilly. To keep everyone together, we decided to regroup at the top of each big hill, and allow the slower riders to catch up. This provided a perfect opportunity to have a chat and catch our break. The forest echoed with the happy sounds of bellbirds ringing and mountain bikers chatting.

At the bottom of most descents we would often pass a creek. Sometimes this meant trying to ride through mud, but (as in the case above), other times we were lucky enough to have a concrete causeway to make the creek crossings easier.

All fifteen of us slowly made our way south through the forest along Middle Road. Thankfully some parts weren’t too steep and we were able to cruise down some long gentle descents. Every so often we’d take a quick break to catch our breath.

Although there were cyclists of different abilities, I was amazed that we were able to keep together as a group for most of the ride.

Ten Mile Road was a long fast descent with some great views of the mountains to the west. Contrary to what it’s name suggests, it’s not ten miles long. The road got it’s name from Ten Mile Creek which lies at the end of road.

Even though it wasn’t ten miles long, this was a fansatic downhill run. Wind howling in our ears, gravel crunching under our tyres, and suspension working over-time, we rocketed down this road at great speed.

Exhillarating.

And at the bottom of the long descent…

… was lunch!

The fog that enshrouded this place at the start of the day had lifted, and we were surrounded by green fields and clear skies.

It must have looked really strange. A bunch of 15 mountain bikes camped on a grassy verge by the side of the road in the middle of nowhere eating lunch. But it was really pleasant. I took advantage of the car and packed a few extra bits of food that wouldn’t normally fit in a back-pack.

The ice boxes in the back of the car kept the extra water cool, and we were able to take on some refreshing cold hydration for the rest of the ride.

We started out after lunch on relaxing cruise along the flat-ish road westwards towards Monsildale.

But the trail slowly steepened as we wound our way up into the hills again, dodging free-ranging cattle wandering around on the road.

While this climb was steep, it didn’t last too long, and we were eventually rolling down the other side towards Monsildale Creek.

We crossed the creek a few times. My friend Rients shares my dislike of wet feet while riding. Here he demonstrates a novel way to keep your feet dry while splashing through a creek crossing at speed.

And finally we started the long slow final climb of the ride up Mount Buggery. This steep road takes about 35 to 45 minutes to ascend, depending on your strength. The lower reaches have some great views of the valley before the track twists its way back up into the forests of Conondale National Park, and the end of the ride at Jimna.

This 72km ride took us about five and a half hours including breaks. Some of the quicker riders arrived back within about five hours.

We climbed a total of about 1,700 metres, and I burned about 3,000 kcal.

With todays pleasant weather and the luxury of a “Sag Wagon” at the half way point, I’d rate this one 8.5 out of 10 on the tough-o-meter. In warmer weather with no half-way point assistance, it would rate 9.5 out of 10.

Thanks everyone for another enjoyable ride!