It's been a while since I talked about the Outback Odyssey. I ended up with an overuse injury afterward which kept me off the bike and made me very grumpy. Which meant I didn't feel like talking about bikes too much. But I'm back on the bike now and feeling much better, so on with the story!
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| Early morning views |
Day five of the Outback Odyssey saw us leaving Wilpena Pound and heading up to Blinman. And when I say up, I mean it. Not only did we have to climb out of the pound, but we had to climb up to Blinman, South Australia's highest town. The motivation was right though, a traditional end of Mawson beer in the pub.
The night before we had been warned that we were, once again, in for some "serious riding". I also heard tales of single track next to steep drop-off's, so I was somewhat nervous. I had been worried about another freezing night, but the weather was gentle and I had one of my deepest nights sleep on the entire tour.
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| Morning rolling |
The feeling in camp was somewhat jovial as we rolled out for what would be our last day on the trails. This may have been encouraged by a warm breakfast, nothing improves my outlook on the day like a cooked breakfast!
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| The Challenge! |
The trails started with a reasonably gentle climb, which my legs didn't appreciate, however it did provide an early opportunity for a photo stop. From there the trail undulated through forests of native pine (I think). These trails, lit in the gentle morning light, were beautiful to ride through. My only disappointment was that I couldn't find a way to capture it on camera, but maybe some things aren't meant to be captured.
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| Chris! |
The gentle rolling continued, mostly easy riding that flowed and brought a big smile to my face. The only difficulty were the creek crossings and drainages, where rains had caused ruts which could easily shock you out of admiring the scenery. All too soon this would end, as the trail became narrower and wound itself along a small gorge. This was the bit I had been nervous about.
I took it easy and walked when I had to, before coming to a steep, rocky drop. Carl had already elected to walk this bit which meant I definitely wasn't going to ride it. But I wasn't alone, and a brief photography stop yielded pictures of other, far more skilled (and in Chris's case, more injured) riders treading the path of caution.
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| Mr Carl - back on track |
After that we were back on the undulating track through pine forest. One photo stop too many and the sag wagon was back on our heels, so we decided to take off and try and put some distance between him and us. We did have an advantage over some of our other back of pack riders. We were light weights, travelling with only a saddle bag and camelback. Some of our other back of packers had panniers which held SLR cameras!
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| Starting to head up |
This advantage became even more evident as we were able to fly through increasingly steep and wide creek crossings. The trick with these was to get as much speed as possible on the descent into the creek so that you could make it as far as possible up the other side. With some of these slopes reaching a 20% gradient, the motivation to gain speed was high. However, this was also a bit dangerous, as ruts, sand and rocks meant that you could easily hit something that would throw you off the bike at high speed.
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| Posing for a photo |
I had one very close call. Maretta and I had committed to a creek crossing. I had wrapped my hands firmly around the grips, away from the brakes, and flew into the creek. Maretta's dangerous like that, she encourages me to do things I wouldn't normally do! Little did I know that there were deep ruts, deep enough that Mr Carl was frantically trying to tell me to slow down. But by the time I realised, it was too late, so I held on, put my weight back, and flew across the creek. Well, "bounced" might be a more appropriate description, but I stayed upright and fully exercised my vocal cords as I came to a stop. Wisely, I decided to walk the small remainder of the trail out of the creek, allowing my heart to return to it's customary place in my chest, rather than in my mouth!
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| More up, but what a view! |
That crossing proved to be the worst of them and soon we left the fun single track and headed out onto a well maintained dirt road. The morning tea stop was somewhere called Razorback Lookout, and as we were currently riding along a creek this could only mean one thing. We were headed up!
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| We made it! |
This climb would definitely prove to be the toughest and the most rewarding of the whole trip. For sections of the climb my garmin told me that the gradient was well and truly over 20%, and looking back over the file I even managed to find one 49.5% (I expect that may be an error). Walking, with regular photo breaks was the order of the day and thankfully the scenery proved up to the challenge.
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| Best view of the day! |
We looked back on the northern edge of Wilpena Pound, mountains stretching in all directions. Everyone was so relieved when we finally made the signposted look out, even the site of the sag wagon stalking us couldn't dampen our spirits. Panoramas and happy snaps were taken in great abundance, but one thing was clear, there was no morning tea here!
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| Necessities of life! |
After waiting for traffic (seriously, we almost saw more cars there than we did on the highway), we rolled out, looking for a hot cuppa. As it turned out, there was one more hill, just as steep as the rest, to make us earn our treats! And I definitely treated myself, enjoying my last hot chocolate before Rory, the coffee man, left us for home.
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| Back on the trail! |
With morning tea out the way, we rode on. As a consequence of climbing so much already, we had a rolling downhill for the best part of 15 km. There was a mixture of gravel roads and farmers tracks, and while we still had to keep an eye out for ruts and washouts, it was generally a really nice ride. Patches of sand did keep us on our toes, and me almost on my bottom, as I fishtailed through one section after getting distracted by the scenery.
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| The Buff (for Karen) |
Soon enough the downhill ended and we headed back up. Still on the dirt, there was a mixture of steep uphills and some longer uphill drags. Once again we were faced with creek crossings, this time crossing Bulls Creek twice. For most of us, the steep, rocky terrain made the uphill impossible to ride and we settled into to a push. Some people, Mr Carl in particular, rode these impossibly steep sections like they were nothing! And then, like the true gentleman he is, waited for me at the top.
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| More rocks and more views |
A final creek crossing brought us to lunch, just outside the Flinders Ranges National Park and next to the highway. The highway would form the final 18 km of our ride along the Mawson trail. Like everything else that day, it was up. But instead of interesting creek crossings, this was a long drag. I tucked in behind Mr Carl to shelter from the wind, although it didn't seem too strong at the time.
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| The highest point . . . |
Upward and onward we went. With about 3 km to go, I started to wonder if this elusive Blinman pub was real or just a hallucination brought on by riding the Mawson trail. Who would stick a pub all the way up here?
The riders heading the other direction waving at us indicated that there was indeed a pub, and after one final climb (and a picture at the towns entrance), we rolled in. Russell and the volunteers had the banners out and there were bikes everywhere! We were cheered like champions as we rolled in and posed for a photo. Then to the important things - beer!
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The Pub!
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| Well deserved beer, |
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| with good mates! |
We spent some time celebrating with friends before rolling the 5 km back to camp at Alpana Station. The relief was palpable as we set up the tent one last time, made use of the shower truck and headed to dinner. There was no rush as we enjoyed a well earned cider and tucked into a hearty vegetable soup. We shared a table with Wayne and Libby, who two years ago had taken us back from Melrose to Burra.
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| Russell's day never ends! |
Tea was a delicious roast, beef or lamb, I wasn't quite sure, but delicious all the same. Washed down with another cider as we celebrated our achievement to the relaxed playing of a local musician. That second cider was quite enough and we couldn't stay awake long enough for dessert. As our heads hit the pillows we could hear the party kicking on, everyone celebrating what had been an amazing journey.
Route for the day here.
