Showing posts with label Samford. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Samford. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

In Search Of The Bat Cave

The plan was simple enough, we were to head out from my place, over into the Samford Valley, and go for a little bit of an explore on the local trails.  We knew of an abandoned railway tunnel a few kilometres north of the town of Samford, but had never actually been there.  The old tunnel was now home to some big colony of bats, so the legend goes.  Just to ride straight there seemed too easy, so I plotted out a slightly longer route that would take us across some dirt roads, access tracks and country lanes to our destination.  There was no need to pack much food, or water, or any of that kind of stuff –after all would only be gone a couple of hours.  At the very leisurely time of eight o'clock, Rudi and I set off from my house for a morning of easy adventure.

Rudi has his first mechanical failure of the day, about 10 metres from my front door

We rode west along Samford Road until we reached the Ferny Grove train station.  At this point, most cyclists head straight over the range to Samford on the popular Sunday morning coffee route.  We headed off the main road, to seek out a section of rail trail that supposedly offered an easier pass into the Samford Valley.  This section of railway line used to run all the way to Dayboro, about 35km north-west of Brisbane, and was decommissioned in 1955.  The line used to run where Lanita Street is now, just behind Ferny Grove station.  Although now a suburban street, the easy gradient, gentle curves and cuttings of an old steam train line are clearly visible.

A happy camper on Lanita Street, Ferny Grove - site of the old railway line to Dayboro

Given how excited I was by the fact I could distinguish this street was once a railway line, I think I've turned into a rail enthusiast

Slight confusion about where to go at the top of Lanita Street.  Just head up the rough track to the top of the bank and you'll end up on the old rail line

Here we are – smooth, flat, easy rail trail riding only 5 km from my front door

This section, known as the Lanita Rail Trail, was really surprising.  We were literally only a stones throw from the edge of Brisbane, yet we were in total seclusion, on a short section of rail trail rivalling that of the Brisbane Valley.  As we blasted up the smooth trail, we passed a few confused looking mountain bikers, who were clearly a bit unsure about our drop bar touring bikes.  We gave them an effortless wave and adopted a look of "this is so easy on this bike I am literally about to fall asleep", and were greeted in return by the usual staunch look of an overweight mountain biker trying to look all hardcore.

Only the sound of whip birds and tyres on gravel.  This area must surely be one of Brisbane's best kept secrets

There have been a lot of fires around Queensland lately, including out here in the forest.  As we rode everything was bathed in an orange, hazy glow from the smoke hanging in the air

I find railway cuttings very exciting these days.  Maybe because they are technically three-quarters of a tunnel, maybe because I've gone a bit peculiar in the head...

This rail trail is the easiest way over the Samford range, with a gentle gradient heading back down to the valley.  No traffic and no people is just a bonus

Our descent into rail nerdery
After crossing the gravel section of the rail trail through Brisbane Forest Park, we were soon out of the scrub and back onto the bitumen road.  Compared to the main road that we normally ride to Samford on, this route was a treat - completely deserted, entirely pleasant, and still following the easy gradient of the rail line.  Little way along the road we passed a cairn marking the spot of Queensland's worst rail accident.

Deserted country road riding

Here's where it all happened, apparently the train went too fast around this bend and derailed.  Not much chance of us going too fast around anything today though

Memorial to the sixteen people who lost their lives in 1947

There were heaps of these signs everywhere.  Apparently it's acceptable for crazy people to film you in the Samford Valley. I love Big Brother

Once in the Samford Valley we linked up with the Samford Pony Trails network.  These trails have something of a bad name with local cyclists – road bike riders think they're too rough, and mountain bike riders think they're too easy, and therefore not "cool".  The reality is they offer the perfect place to do some serious exploring and have some great adventures right on the edge of town.  The trails are a mix of dirt tracks, single trail, quiet country lanes, and bitumen roads, that can be easily negotiated on a touring bike, hybrid or mountain bike.  Very little information is available on the trails other than a couple of maps on the Internet, and this creates a little extra feeling of mystery when exploring the network.

One of the rocky sections of the trails.  Here's Rudi undertaking another mechanical repair

Typical pictogram along the trail network

There are no steep gradients on the Samford Pony Trails, mostly undulating country roads

Rudi negotiating one of the timber structures designed to keep vehicles out.  For the most part they seem to work - the trails are free from vandalism, litter and damage

Easy and smooth riding

Looking through the heat haze across the Samford Valley.  By this point the day was really starting to heat up

Some of the “single trail" sections, easily negotiated at speed on the touring bikes

Rudi attempting to cross a sandy, rocky creek bed along the trail.  I got my camera out in anticipation of a stack...

...It looks like he's going to go down!!!

Unfortunately it was not to be - Rudi makes it across the creek intact

Yet another bike repair.  For some reason the axle on the Fuji kept slipping under power.  This continued all day

Rudi punches down an expired gel after 15km in two hours - extreme average speeds

About as rough as the Samford Pony Trails get

By about 11 AM we ended up behind the Samford pony club.  I assume this is where the trials get their name from, and we rode along through show jumps and other equestrian paraphernalia.  From here we followed our map down more country roads and across more dirt easements until we eventually found ourselves on a grassy track on the northern side of Samford creek.  At this point the trail got slightly confusing, following a roughly mowed firebreak along the back of residential properties bordering the creek.  It was along here we also got to practice one of the more precarious touring bike riding skills – riding along the side of an extremely steep, wet, grass slope.

Bike versus grid

Rudi rides through the thick vegetation along Samford creek

By now it was around midday and starting to get really hot.  We parked the bikes and had a bite to eat in the shade by the flowing creek

Typical open grassy riding on the north bank of Samford creek.  Not the most exciting, but not entirely unpleasant either

We came across an old road, complete with road signs warning us of bridge ahead.  The bridge was clearly long gone, and we had to find another way around

Temporarily geographically challenged
At this point of our journey things started to take a turn for the “adventurous".  Our maps no longer bore any relevance to anything happening in the real world, the day was getting very hot, and we were running low on food and water.  After riding for a while down an increasingly overgrown trail, we decided we needed to get across the creek and head back into Samford if we had any hope of getting to this alleged bat-filled rail tunnel.

Slightly lost and confused following some single trial

I suggested to Rudi that the best way to cross this creek was to fly down the hill at full speed and hit the water at about 40 km/h.  I assured him it would all be fine, and I'd have my camera at the ready to capture his triumphant moment - just like last time

For some reason he didn't believe me, and chose to walk his bike across the water

From here things got interesting.  We were standing on a small trail adjacent to the creek trying to decide which way to go.  My instinct was telling me to head to the east, but the trail to the west look more well worn, so we decided head off that way.  Big mistake.  Before too long we were on a rough easement walking our bikes through mud, across fallen trees and up steep slopes.  It was apparent we were close to a road, as we were behind large residential lifestyle blocks and could see the driveways.  With confusion mounting, the only option was to take a legally "interesting" short cut back to the main road, and make a dash into Samford.  Looking at our GPS track later, I discovered that had we gone along the eastern track as first though, we would have been on the road into Samford within about 50 metres!  We arrived in town and sat in the shade at the legendary “Pancake Park", home of the now infamous “pancake incident".

The information kiosk at Samford.  It's a replica of a slab hut, and well worth a look

Rudi takes shelter from the hot sun at Pancake Park.  When we got home we saw it had been 33°C that day.  No wonder we went through a lot of bidons

Mission accomplished
After eating the last of our food, we headed off on our final push to find the rail tunnel.  We knew very little about the tunnel, other than the fact it had bats in it, and that it obviously occurred along an old rail line.  If we could find the rail line, we'd find the tunnel.  A short ride north of Samford we rejoined the old railway - now a bitumen road, but still with all the hallmarks of a rail line of yesteryear.  Now that we were massive railway nerds, we could spot such things with ease.  At the end of the road we rode up a small embankment, and onto the final stretch of well shaded rail trail.

Riding up the reclaimed railway line to our final destination

Another sublime stretch of smooth, well graded, well shaded rail line.  Hard to believe this is only 16 km from my house

And at last we were there.  The Yugar rail tunnel, last used by trains in 1955 and now a home to a colony of micro bats

 It was surprising how small the tunnel actually is.  I have it in my head that steam trains were colossal behemoths, however this tunnel was not much bigger than a large van

View from inside the tunnel.  The squeaking of micro bats could be heard all around us in the moist silence. The Yugar railway tunnel is awesome

We emerged from the cool dark tunnel, blinking in the bright light and now blazing heat. It was well after lunch time now, and we sped back over the Samford Range on the main road, back into Brisbane City.  I would usually have ridden a little more sedately in the midday sun over a mountain range, but the springtime treat of a nesting magpie smashing me in the head on the long climb out of Samford put a bit more urgency in my pace.  

All downhill back into Samford

Just for something different, Rudi had to fix his slipping axle again

The green algae all over my bike from slopping through stagnant mud added a nice visual touch

Any and all shade was welcomed.  Fortunately, much of the Samford Pony Trails are well shaded by riparian vegetation

One final stop to tighten the axle again, and away we went

So what's the go with the Samford Pony Trails?
As I mentioned earlier in the post, the Samford Pony Trails are misunderstood among Brisbane cyclists - which is probably why I've never seen another rider on them.  I think a lot of it has to do with the name - when you say "Samford Pony Trails" it conjures up images of little kids poking around a short, sedate loop on an asthmatic miniature pony, before having a lunch of cucumber sandwiches.  When I ask my friends if they want to go riding out there, they usually give me a blank kind of look and politely decline, as though I am some kind of crazy and boring person.  The reality is that the trails network offers a big taste of adventure, only a little way from the city.  Our adventure was a long and convoluted 50km route over five hours, but amazingly, we were never more than an hour's ride away from my home in suburban Brisbane.  We crossed creeks, rode single trail, visited a country town, explored old heritage sites, got lost - the whole gamut of "adventure" stuff.   It was all a bit like being a kid on a BMX again, recapturing the vibe of exploring the local area.  If you're in Brisbane and you're thinking of exploring the area, I thoroughly recommend downloading the maps and getting out there to discover it for yourself.  

And if the name puts you off, just think of it as the "Samford Multisport Adventure Network" - it's a far more accurate description.
 

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Lowering the bar of laziness

A new approach to training

Well it's been a fair while since we've updated the blog, and believe it or not, it's because we've actually been out riding.  Nothing too spectacular or hardcore, but it turns out actually riding is a bold new approach to training for cycling that I, personally, think may just catch on.

A couple more regular riders also joined the group, our long time riding companion Rudi, and my mate Nate, who I've been meaning to ride with for ages but only just got around to it in February.  The rides have varied from flat out road blasts, to a very entertaining all roads day ride involving dirt, pavement, landslides, closed roads, panniers, camp stoves, coffee and of course a lot of excellent swearing.  Not one person took a camera on that epic ride, so to blog that wouldn't have made a lot of sense, so Jer and I headed out with the camera the following weekend to try and replicate that epic ride and get some photos and write a blog to demonstrate how awesome and adventure-esque we are.

Showing off always ends well

So there we were, up early on the north-west side of Brisbane, about to head over the Samford Range, and off into the high hills about 70km away.  We had the bikes loaded with food, stove, coffee, cups.  There was a slight chill of autumn in the air, so I was sporting my arm warmers for the first time in months, it was looking like a good morning for a ride.  Heading off down Samford Rd we gradually got warmed up, and by the time we were near the range we had caught a number of other riders, them on carbon fibre race bikes wearing all matching knicks and jerseys, us on loaded steel tourers looking like we we were on our way to the tip to throw out panniers full of rubbish.

We sat politely behind the other riders as we approached the range - these guys looked the part and I was pretty keen on getting a tow across the mountain.  But the moment the climb started, I couldn't help myself, and my primal urge to be an egotistical idiotic show off took over.  I instantly dumped a few gears, and with a calm demeanour I quickly shot by them and up the range.  About ten metres in front of them I heard a bike coming up from the right, thinking the counter attack was on.  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw it was Jer giving it the absolute balls over the range on a loaded touring bike.  I tucked in on his wheel as he barrelled up the range.  We passed another rider, then another, by now Jer was standing up in the saddle turning himself inside out, riding up the range at about 30km/h.  Right near the top of this range there is a slight increase in incline, where we reached another two riders.  We stopped in briefly behind them for a rest, when Jer said "bike back".  Me being an idiot I instinctively dumped another couple of gears and gassed around the slower riders, getting to the top of the range first on the touring machine, in view of a bunch of riders who for some reason were waiting around at the top of the climb.  Right at the top I sat up and eased up for a breather, when a rider hitherto unknown zapped around me and started the descent.  I chucked it back into big ring and shot off down the hill after him, sitting in his draft until the very bottom of the hill where I knew there was a small sharp rise, and I would pop out of his draft as he lost momentum up the hill, and claim the idiotic boy racer title for the morning.  As I hit the bottom of the hill I looked over my shoulder, nobody was behind me, and I made my attack...

Pride comes before a derp

... but I completely botched it.  The sharp rise after the long descent was actually about 300m away across a flat from where I jumped out and attacked.  So there I was, spinning in big ring at 67km/h, trying to show off, trying to make a move stick, then I had to get up another hill.  Things were grim.  I kept spinning my heart out, got to the hill, stood up to try and smash it, and was so far in the red zone I instantly felt dizzy and had no balance, it felt like I was riding parallel with the ground or something, I lost all my hearing and I started to lose sight.  And of course I lost a lot of face and looked like a prize moron, eventually blowing up completely at the top of the rise, as I looked behind me and hit the brakes as though I was slowing to wait for Jer, while the challenger breezed past me to glory.  Of course I wasn't fooling anyone, I bit off more than I could chew and blew up to the limit, 14km into a 140km ride!

Coffee break time

Jer and I rolled through the deserted Sunday morning main street of Samford, and pulled in at the little park to fill bidons.  I sat down for a second on the park bench to get my breath, then stood up again, and nearly passed out.  I had really blown myself apart for no reason getting up and then down the range.  I feebly mumbled something about needing a coffee to Jer, and it turns out he was just as munted as I, so we hopped on the bikes and rolled the 50m to the coffee shop.  Shop was closed.  Back on the bikes, rolled 50m back to the park.  We both nodded at each other in mutual agreement of our weakness, and decided to bust out all the coffee gear and have our extreme remote area bush adventure right there, in a park in the middle of a town 14km from my  house.  Extreme.

Tired show off makes coffee in suburbs

The opposite of a hard earned coffee - a soft earned coffee perhaps?

Bike and rider in very harsh and remote environment

Weakness prevails - situation normal

It doesn't take much for the Velo Cetera boys to abandon a ride, we aren't made of very tough stuff.  We've got a 200km audax coming up in less than a week, but after sitting there doing literally nothing in a park in Samford for over an hour, it was agreed the ride was over and we'd ride home, back over the range. We set off back towards Brisbane, back up Samford Range.  Towards the top we made an impromptu decision to ride back in via Mailman Track, a little used small road running off the top of the main road.  The road has been described to me by Rudi as "fun" and "fast".  what he had conveniently failed to mention was the 750m of 15% climb that took us directly over the highest point of the range.

Halfway up the switchbacks - that's Jer down there

And yet more climbing to come

Bike photo stop to conceal the fact I was actually exhausted

You'd be smiling too if you had a 34 tooth cassette!

Photo of someone taking a photo - mind blowing...

Getting the mail

To put it politely, the Mailman track was indeed "invigorating" to get to the top of.  From there a blistering descent put us neatly back into town at my place, the ride over.  In 3 hours we had completed a completely disgraceful 32km.  But on the plus side, we had discovered an excellent new route for a short coffee ride, and had learned a valuable lesson for the 200km audax next week about the value of not smashing it up the first hill we see, although in reality it's a lesson I'll probably never learn.

Now to commence preparations for the 200km "Travelling South" audax this weekend - if this ride is anything to go by, it could be a bit challenging to say the least, so we're going to be taking cameras to document the shenanigans and cramping.  Should be a blast.