I experienced something this last winter, which convinced me that, given the right circumstances, all seasons throughout the year can be enjoyed.
Monday morning 16th of August dawned bright and clear. To me this was a great relief, as the previous two days had seen the Surf Coast lashed by full gales and driving rain. However with the weather rapidly improving, I started work to put my plan to spend seven days bicycle touring into action. I had never done anything thing like this before; and to tow a trailer behind a bike for 500kms at the end of a Victorian winter is not the sort of thing that you would do very often in life. In fact I have read of one Canadian couple who attempted this same ride at this time of year and they found the wind and rain to be so miserable they gave up and returned home to Canada.
Most bicycle touring is done with a strong touring bike fitted with panniers front and back. In fact during the warmest months of the year one often sees them gliding along the Great Ocean Road being coached forward by some intrepid foreigner, who has come to marvel at this world renowned coastal vista. Some bikes are so laden with possessions that the wheels are barely visible and it looks as if the rider is on some sort of magic carpet surround by endless paraphernalia; all levitating about the highway. However my ride was to be different. The trailer would give me independence. I would be unburdened by luggage hanging from every available piece of bike frame. I would not be troubled by the weight on front and back wheels, nor the balance of one side against the other. The trailer would carry all that I needed. Yet what if the tailer wheel should hit a deep pothole in the road, or mount a curb? It could over-turn and take me with it! This was a sobering thought and not one which I cared to contemplate seriously.
The first day saw 84kms pass beneath my wheels as I glided into the Lakes Caravan Park at Colac. I secured a water front campsite for the night and set about putting up the tent. Dinner was at a local pub which promised $10 pasta and schnitzel meals. It was a popular spot for the locals and quite a few birthdays and anniversaries were being celebrated in the bistro. Back at the caravan park the only noise was the odd quack from a duck or the call of a water bird to its mate, although in the distance there was a continuous mechanical noise, - perhaps a sawmill working late.
Next morning the sun rose promisingly over the eastern end of the lake, and there was mist rising from the water. Long lines of ducks and ibis were making their way across the sky. Sleep had been easy, and now I was ready to push on the 71kms to Terang. After leaving Colac I had no concern about the road, as both sides of the road were marked with a bike lane, and this continued all the way to Warrnambool, from where I planned to return home via the Great Ocean Road.
This day was uneventful, for which in some respects I was grateful. The further I went the stronger I was becoming, and I expected that by the time I reached the Otways I would be able to give a good account of myself. I had stopped at Stony Rises for a break, and later at Camperdown for lunch. Passing through Stony Rises one cannot but be impressed by such an aptly named place. The area is littered with millions of stones, and you cannot miss the endless kilometres of dry stone walls made from these stones. The walls are unique; they stand as a symbol to the hard work, skill and ingenuity of a bygone generation.
Terang came into view early afternoon and I found a vacant spot at the Apex caravan park The Apex Caravan Park at was like a little time warp, with the entire fleet of caravans well past middle age and heading for retirement, and even the caretaker seemed to be from an age past! On seeing him for the first time he immediately made me recall that Scottish TV show, of 10 or more years ago, about the young Scottish policeman named Hamish. He had a friend whose name was John, who was partial to the use of a little pomade. The only problem was that the character who stood before me had something in his hair that must have been made with petroleum jelly and kerosene!
Warrnambool was the target for day three, and I assure you that after the storms and gales of the previous weekend, the last three days were a cyclists dream – no wind! It is hard to believe now that it really happened! The sun was a little overcast at times, but no wind or rain and this was winter!
Approaching Warrnambool I saw a sign that said, “Scenic route to Logans Beach”. Of course I wanted to see the whales, but taking the scenic route was a big mistake. The road for the tourist travelling by bus or car was definitely scenic, but from the seat of a bike it was just hard work. After much time and effort, Logans Beach came into view, but the whales were conspicuous by their absence! The Fig Tree Caravan Park provided a nice quiet spot to camp and the heated pool and spa revived tired limbs.
Day four saw a change in direction as I started for Port Campbell, with several planned stops along the way. Cheese World was the first, then Nullawarre for morning tea, and later, lunch in Peterborough. There were also the stops for photos at all the popular spots. The scenery had now changed completely, from fields of green grass and herds of cows to coastal scrub, and ahead, looming larger and larger, were the Otway ranges.
A cabin overnight at Port Campbell gave me a chance to sleep in a real bed and prepare for the hard day that I knew was coming the next day.
8.00am saw me on my way, now heading for Lavers Hill. The Twelve Apostles is a must see, but almost more dramatic is the $5.5million toilet block. It takes a little getting used to, this building of compressed earth, glass and stainless steel. It fits into the landscape beautifully, but don’t try and get a coffee or cake because the only thing you can do there is have a pee! It must surely be the most expensive toilet a tourist is likely to see anywhere in the world. Your taxes at work!
I pushed on and arrived at Princetown for morning tea, and this was taken with a view of the Gellibrand River and the nearby hills. Here I diverted from the main road and took the unsealed Old Ocean Road. This follows the course of the Gellibrand River, and it was a great ride. The only vehicle I passed was a tractor carrying a round bale on the front. I also passed many cows of the “fragrant type” if you know what I mean. They stand by the fence, watching you pass, in mud and excrement up to their udders. They lower their heads sightly as they turn to watch you pass with their big black doleful eyes, as much as to say, “sorry about this mess, but nothing to do with me”! This is one of the great joys of bike riding that you miss with other forms of transport. The aromas are endless. Some are wonderful, like fresh mown grass or hay, wattles in springtime, the smell of the ocean, or a field full of daffodils. Yet there are other smells, like the cows, or a decomposing kangaroo that was hit by a car a week ago and now is full of maggots, even a dead fox, or a rotting sheep. I think this all adds to the experience of life as it really is. It takes you for a moment from the sterile world in which we spend most of our time.
I rejoined the Great Ocean Road at Lower Gellibrand and the next 3kms were definitely uphill and too steep to ride so I had to walk. However after about an hour the gradient lessened and I was able to ride again. As the road climbed higher I was able to look over the land to the west and back to the coast. What I saw didn’t thrill me that much, huge storm clouds were building up and the wind was increasing in speed. I pushed on as best I could, and the rain and I arrived at Lavers Hill at the same time. The Blackwood Tea Rooms provided a welcome haven, and I enjoyed the best meal of the last four days. The rain while heavy passed quickly and while I had planned to stay over-night at Lavers Hill I decided to push on to Apollo Bay. The road, to begin with, was steeply down hill, and I soon reached over 40kmph. I could have gone faster, but concern about the trailer at high speed kept the brakes on. It wasn’t long before I reached Glenaire, but what comes down must go up. Another long climb, and it was getting very late in the afternoon. The wind had really whipped up, so much so that when I rode out from the cover of trees at the side of the road I was almost blown over! I pushed on, until it was dark and I was still about 10kms out of Apollo Bay. The bike has lights, but it didn’t stop cars coming towards me putting their lights on high beam. I now know how a rabbit feels caught in the spotlight, very scary when you can’t see the road ahead! I eventually arrived at Marengo, just out of Apollo Bay, and dived into to the caravan park. I was given a site down the back, out of the wind supposedly. I got the tent up, and all the time the noise of the wind in the trees was getting louder and louder. I crawled into my sleeping bag as a great gust of wind hit the tent knocking it flat. I thought for sure the poles were going to break, and I did my best to try and support them from the inside. This went on all night, needless to say I didn’t get much sleep, but I did pray a lot.
An early breakfast and day six saw me heading off for Lorne, only 51kms. This was an easy ride after the 102kms from the day before. The strong wind had moderated, and the road was easy. Three hours later I was in Lorne. I have discovered from previous experience that in this area you have to be very careful, as I think in days gone by there were pirates shipwrecked here abouts, and some of their descendants still survive to this day. An onsite caravan sheltered me out of the weather for the night, and day seven saw me heading for home, the scenery just improving all the time. I arrived back in Torquay 3 hours 15 minutes after leaving Lorne. My bike computer tells me I had covered 493kms over the seven days.
Those 7 days had been a great experience, one that I will long remember. Now I look forward to even greater rides, maybe The Murray to the Mountains Trail, then over Mt. Hotham to Bairnsdale, or perhaps the Murray River from Mildura to Albury. The places to ride are really endless. Bike touring can be a deeply personal spiritual experience and the benefits are well documented. That is why my next ride will be very soon!
