Yesterday’s ride was a little disappointing. Our goal was to see some more of the Moreton Bay coastline. We drove to Lota and picked up the cycleway where we had turned back last time. After 200m of boardwalk, the rest of the path was alongside a major road. About 5kms later we ran out of signage. We pottered on a bit until it started raining. Backtracking, we found the last sign on the cycleway. The colour code shows ‘Existing’ and ‘Planned’. Ah. That’s your problem right there. In proper Australian fashion, the beautiful, large expensive sign failed to point out that the path beyond that point was entirely mythical. They do this on the roads, too. “Lane ends in 3 meters”. “No possible route to <your destination> from here.” “No U-Turns – road ahead impassable”. Next time we shall try the section at Deception Bay, if only because it’s an awesome name for a town.
Our new plan is to go to a new place every weekend until we run out of places, fuel or enthusiasm. Since all these are still in good supply we mounted up and pointed the wagon North. The target was the Glass House Mountains.
I could burble on at length about how we investigated the area, moan about the temperature falling below 25 Celsius (really!), drip on about how the first place we stopped was full of trail bikers and their noisome effluvia, or describe how cool the view is from the lookout. But all the important bits are fully documented here. Go on – check it out. There are kangaroos!
Eventually, with a much better grasp of the local geography, we found a place for me to saddle up and play. The Sensible Cyclist opted for some gentle photography and reading while I plummeted down a lovely gravelly wet muddy forest road. Mud! Happy! Also, some very deeply-rutted uphill. Then more mud! I hacked about in this terrain for a bit having a total blast. With mud! I haven’t seen proper muddy trails in ages. I climbed to a local peak, and stopped to dump CO2 and drink water. Spotted some butterflies making sure there will be more butterflies. I was slightly surprised when three bloody great trucks appeared coming the other way. Had I pondered more on the overall state of the track, and the tyre markings this would not have been such a surprise. Real mud is made with heavy trucks.
I turned to follow them back to the car park. This was an interesting experience. It turns out that off-road 4x4s are very, very slow compared to a mountain bike. They chunter along at about 15-20km/h and come to a grinding halt any time there’s anything they consider technical. Seriously – they stop, get out and chat about stuff that I happily do at 30km/h while jumping off the peak. I can only assume that this is because I am awesome.
I arrived back at the agreed location feeling tired, muddy and very happy. I was ready to share tales of endeavour, effort, setback and triumph. What I got was “No you can’t have a hug! There’s mud in your hair.” Some people just don’t understand. I mean, it is the wet season.
Anyway, enough burblage. Time for some pictures (which is the only reason you pay the entry fee, I know….)
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- Hey! There’s some lovely mud here!
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- Forest. With trees. If you want kangaroos, you’re in the wrong place.
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- Hot Lepidoptera Action!
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- 10km/h?
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- Just give it a minute – I’m sure they’ll be fine.
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- Something lives in that tree.
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- Look at the background
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- “Yer front wheel’s missing, mate”
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- This is not a mucky boot