Daisy Hill

We have a five-day weekend over Easter. The logic behind this is awe-inspiring. Anzac day falls on Easter Monday, and can’t be moved for some reason. So, in an act of sheer brilliance – pay attention here, this is remarkable – they moved Easter Monday to Tuesday. Really. This year, Easter Monday falls on a Tuesday. The theology is somewhat baffling, frankly. Anyway, the upshot is a five-day break, which is utterly spiffing, particularly as one who is in possession of paid holidays. So, how have we been occupying ourselves?

On Good Friday we did a long ride up the river and back. This was fairly gentle, as I wanted to see if an idiocy-induced injury had healed. It had. No, I will not explain how I hurt myself riding a CityCycle up a hill in the rain. True stupidity needs no explanation.

Other People had been doing some research, and had heard about Daisy Hill Conservation Park. This is 400 hectares of old forest, located 25kms south of the city. The idea is to provide a sanctuary for native wildlife like koalas, kangaroos, drop-bears and bunyips. It has a network of multi-use trails for walkers, horse riders, and nutters on mountain bikes. We arrived at the carpark at the top of the hill, hopped on the bikes and pottered off for an explore. We found a range of trails, from big forest fire tracks to twisty single-track. While the terrain is far from flat, it’s nowhere near as challenging as Mount Coot-tha.

After a while, the Serious Photographer decided that hammering up and down wet, muddy trails in the pissing rain was no longer fun, so we sent her back to hunt for koalas, and I hurtled off to find more mud. I succeeded.

Since we’d had so much fun, we went back again on Monday (not Easter Monday – that’s on Tuesday. Today is Anzac day. Do try to keep up.) This time, we started along some fire roads that I’d discovered. My memory of these was ‘almost level’. Apparently, my definition of ‘level’ is not in widespread use. The Other Cyclist was game, and we did a few ks before turning around. Imagine my astonishment when she turned – entirely of her own choosing – down some single track. We took it sensibly. My track-stand technique is developing well. We had a blast – twisty narrow tracks through dense forest with dappled sunlight. Some small obstacles, and a gentle climb back to the fire roads. It was awesome. It was also enough for the Sensible Cyclist, so we went back to the car so she could swap bicycle for camera.

I hammered off in pursuit of more mud. I’m getting good at this. I met a couple of other cyclists also new to the park, and rode the single-track with them. Twice. It’s really that much fun.

Anyway – enough of the deferred gratification – you only come here for the pictures, I know. Here you go, then: