|
|
|
Bicycle Tours in South Western Australia:Bunbury - Cape Naturaliste - Cottesloe10 days, 739 km [map]
The aim of this trip was to visit the old south-west tip again, but to do it in a way originally intended in the failed ride of 1983; that is, to go inland, then rush to the coast at Augusta, go around to Cape Leeuwin, head back up through Margaret River to Yallingup and Dunsborough, go right up to Cape Naturaliste, back through Dunsborough, thence round to Busselton, Bunbury, Mandurah and home.
PREAMBLE - THE FAILURE OF 1983In 1983 the old, slow Australind train only went to Bunbury in the mornings, arriving about 1pm or later, thus allowing me about 5 hours to cycle to the first night's stop before sunset. In 1983 I decided to try to get to Greenbushes, about 77 km from Bunbury, in that time, then head to Nannup and redo the 1981 effort from Nannup to Augusta that had been so disastrous owing to the cold front that rolled in while I was doing it. I made Augusta on that occasion but body and bike never recovered during the journey back to Bunbury. In the spring of 1983 I had just bought a new light bike which could do great things but didn't have the range of gears that would be necessary for the hills. I didn't know the country after Donnybrook at that time, had only been as far as Balingup in 1981 and didn't remember what it had been like. I was relatively inexperienced and unprepared in comparison to recent times. On that day in 1983 I decided that I would ride to Donnybrook, see how I felt, decide whether to go on or stay the night there. It is only 36 km from Bunbury which is not enough for a first day. I got off the train and got going, made good time to Donnybrook, getting there not long after 3 pm. I sat in the pub for a while and had a lemon squash. This was a mistake and something I don't do any more - not the lemon squash, but the overlong break and the indecision. Eventually I decided that I would be able to make Greenbushes, reckoning only the distance still to go, not the hills that it would include. So I made the booking for the Exchange Hotel at Greenbushes and resumed my journey. Down the hill and around the corner, to encounter the first hill. I walked up much of it, then got back on to ride, only to encounter another and another. The killer was the one after Balingup. Then after you take the turnoff from the SW highway to go into Greenbushes, there is a steep climb up the main street. I got to the hotel as the sun sank behind the hills and the hotel people had nearly given me up. They serve dinner promptly at 6pm and I was lucky to get it. It was very nice, served at a table in the little dining room as it still is today (see 1998 ride). But I was in bad shape. After a restless night I set off for Bridgetown the next day. I was glad to get there, not having got that far on a bike before, but had to walk up most of Hester's Hill on the way in, of course. I had some lunch then laboured on to Nannup - more hills, more trudging, but fortunately a nice run down for the last few km. After a rest in the hotel room (no ensuite units in those days) I ventured out and realised that I couldn't face the Augusta ride the next day. So I chickened out, buk, buk, buk, and went to Busselton instead - only 60 km, much of it downhill or level with a following wind. Having short-circuited the whole trip there was nothing to do but go and stay a night in Yallingup, then back to Busselton, then to Bunbury for the train. I even chickened out of going all the way up to Cape Naturaliste. I stopped a few hilly km short and came back, getting lost in trying to come back through Dunsborough a different way, along the coast to avoid hills. So the 2K ride was to redo 1983, bigger and better, going even further inland and only taking the train one way.
PRELIMINARYThe new bike built for the 1999 ride had given excellent service for a year. It had extended my range and shortened my times for all my trips, and given a minimum of mechanical trouble after a few early adjustments. It had done over 2000 km before the start of the 2K ride and the distances given in this story start at 36 because the 3V battery in the hi-tech cyclocomputer seems unable to last much more than 1000 km. The device is now on its third battery. I took the bike down to Bunbury on the evening Australind train on Sunday 17 September, arriving at about 8:17. The train was late because a small child was supposed to be met by someone at Pinjarra, the person was late and the train driver was unwilling to leave the child alone at the station without an adult there. I got into my motel unit just after 8:30, watched TV, studied the maps for the next day and pumped the tubes on both wheels of the bike, to start them off good and hard. They didn't need more pumping, and there weren't to be any punctures, for the rest of the trip. Nor were there any other problems apart from the back carrier, described later. I might carry less heavy parts and repair stuff around on future rides, now that I have a better bike.
DAY 1, Bunbury - NoggerupMONDAY 18 SEPTEMBER 2000 I left the Bunbury Motel at 8:38 on a cool overcast morning with light WSW winds. The odometer read 36. I was riding due east to get onto the old SW highway and head for Dardanup. It was good to 'break the surly bonds' of the city and move out into the open country. I reached Dardanup and turned left into Ferguson Road. A sign said that this led to the Ferguson Valley, in the sense that they were trying to encourage tourists in. I rested at 53. The hill-climbing inevitably began as I left the coastal plain and mounted the scarp. I found the going quite hard because I wasn't as fit as I normally would have been at the start of a Ride. I had only left work on Friday and hadn't done any long rides for a while. But I managed and eventually rolled down a long descent towards the point I had chosen for my next rest. It turned out to be a roundabout constructed at a three-way intersection. As I came down the hill towards it I was reminded of the movie 'Pet Sematary' because it seemed that the whole eastern side of the roundabout was covered with small graves, but when I arrived this turned out to be a collection of hundreds of garden gnomes. These colourful little people were grouped around small structures and nestled in trees and stumps, inscribed with every imaginable pun on 'gnome'; dun gnomin', gnomeless, ungnome, gnomessin' about, and so on. After leaving this curious apparition in empty pastoral country I followed the sign that said 'Lowden 9km' though my map said it was 12, which it proved to be. At the bottom of a hill I turned right onto the Donnybrook-Boyup Brook Road and headed east again. The road wasn't too hilly because it followed the old railway reserve, and I still had a tailwind, but I was feeling my lack of fitness and wondered if I would be able to make the Boyup Brook-Nannup-Augusta run that I planned, in two days, or was this to be another chicken ride? Was I just too old, new bike or no? I took another rest at 86, then reached the Noggerup cabins where I had booked a couple of weeks before, at 104, 12:39. I had to get off to walk down the soft track, and heard someone yell out 'Charles!' It was Dennis, the owner of the establishment, who was over the other side building more of it, with help from his friends. I went over there to see them and they were having a long discussion about one of the walls that was out of whack. It took a while for them to finish their discussion and come over. I was particularly in need on this day of a rest and wanted to get into my room or cabin. Eventually Dennis came over and told me that he had bumped me from the original cabin that he was going to put me in. There were only two. Mine was very small with a bed and light and heater, but a verandah outside, with table and chairs and lots of reading material, including a German dictionary. There was a dish of oranges on the table, from the orchard that was part of the property. The toilet and shower were in a separate small cabin some distance away. Dennis said he was going into 'town', one of the 'Brooks I presume, so I could do what I liked. I slept in the cabin for about an hour, then awoke with a bad attack of cramp. After recovering from this I had a shower and washed my clothes, then looked around the property, saw the ducks and geese and pig and, as invited, enjoyed a fresh orange from a tree. There was a fine sturdy crop of silver beet. I went down to the road, saw the hall then looked over what there was of the settlement. Noggerup used to be a timber town and had its own school from 1909 to 1960. The site of this is marked but bears nothing now but the rusty remnant of old-fashioned playground equipment. The ruins of a tennis court are nearby. After closure, the school was used as a youth hostel until about 20 years ago - I remember it used to be mentioned in Cycle Touring Association newsletters, quite popular with cycle tourists. But the local shire council condemned it and it was demolished. Dennis came back and cooked me stir-fry chicken and apple pie for dinner. During this time the farmer and his son arrived. Bruce, the son, came in with a large casserole dish, containing dinner prepared by his mum and frozen, to be microwaved that evening. Dennis had the microwave oven. The two of them chatted about farming, and soils and crops. Eventually after about three goes in the microwave, during which the casserole became rather mushy, Bruce was satisfied that it contained no ice, just bone, and took it away to consume with his Dad. After dinner Dennis invited me up to his room to watch Olympics on his TV. The 'live coverage' was a bit dead by that time so we watched 'Wallace and Gromit' on Channel 2 instead. I retired to my cabin at about nine. I brought my washing in to blow with the fan heater. The night was very cold and damp, and dark with no moon or outside lighting. The milky way stood out as we never see it in the city, like a glowing cloud. Dennis had kindly lent me his torch to find my way to the facilities in the dark. Even so, I had trouble - the farmers had parked their vehicle too close to the toilet cabin, beside which a thorny bush was growing. I struggled past the thorny bush only to bang my head on an elevated bar structure on the front of the vehicle. Blood flowed freely as I made my way back to my cabin. I stopped the bleeding and applied yellow stuff and a band-aid from my first-aid kit. I didn't want any blood on the pillow-case. Apart from that episode I slept well until thump, thump past my door and a cry of 'breakfast!' from Dennis at 7:20 am. He had put it on the table on the verandah and I crept out to eat it in the frosty morning. I had cereal, scrambled egg, toast and coffee, and the staple orange. I got organised, paid Dennis $40, shook hands and got on my way. See Day 2! Reading at Noggerup: 104 km. Day's ride: 68 km. Speed to Noggerup: 17 kph.
DAY 2, Noggerup - Boyup BrookTUESDAY 19 SEPTEMBER I left Noggerup at 8:32 on a cold cloudy morning. This was to be a rest day, a ride of 40 km or less. It was the only rest day of the trip and I needed it to get in shape for the two days to follow. A light southerly headwind blew. I rested at 120. The hills were typical of the area but nothing extreme. The country was beautiful with everything green and the wattle and other flowers in full bloom. I reached Boyup Brook at 143, 10:48. My room was ready, since I had booked a week before. It had two single beds and typical old-fashioned hotel furniture, and a spacious bathroom. But there was no TV - you still had to go to the guests' lounge. This was typical also - see Wickepin on the 1999 ride. The tariff of $60.50 included GST and a light help-yourself-any-time breakfast, which could be a heavy breakfast if you wanted, a smorgasbord of cereal, toast, cereal and toast. After lunch and some 'phone calls, including one to the Nannup hotel to book a unit, I rested then showered, washed my clothes and changed. There was a clothes line on which to hang my washing. It was handy to my room - I just had to go around the corner, through a back door and down the steps. I did some work on the bike - the back carrier had worked loose and was down on one side so that the supports on the other were sometimes touching the back wheel. This became a bigger problem later. After that I carried the bike in through the back door and put it in my room, against damp and theft. I looked in at the Boyup Brook Hall, built in 1909. It now houses a tourist information centre staffed by one friendly old volunteer who didn't have a lot to do that day, and, in the back, the famous Carnaby collection of butterflies and beetles and mantises. This was the life's work of a man who lived in Swanbourne so I don't know what it is doing in a small town far from the city, in the back of a hall seemingly visited by few. It is a remarkable collection and deserves to be in Fremantle or Northbridge being properly maintained and mobbed by tourists. I bought a couple of postcards, had a chat with the old man and left. Boyup Brook is a hilly town - there is a hill from one side of the main street to the other, and a median strip with steps is necessary to let you cross the street. There was a hill in the car park at the shopping centre, where I bough a few things, so that one of the parking spaces was on a steep sideways slope and had a concave surface. A top-heavy vehicle parked there might topple. My map of the Boyup Brook townsite showed a walk trail starting at the bridge over the Blackwood River. I walked along Bridge Street, up a hill then down again. This is the main road out to Kojonup. I had considered going to Boyup Brook in 1987 and 1996, when I stayed in Kojonup, but it is quite a way into a strong headwind such as prevailed on both occasions when I might have tried it, so instead, on both occasions, I headed northwest to Darkan. I reached the river, crossed the bridge to look at the river, crossed back again and walked up the trail. I reached the old flax mill, an important employer in the town during the war and for some time afterwards. It is now partly used as a camping and accommodation area. I walked into the huge wall-less shed with its high roof and concrete floor. It must be still used for storing something from time to time but there was nothing and no-one there now. As I left the shed and moved towards the continuation of the trail, a flock of sheep in the paddock over the fence noticed me and trotted towards the fence to have a look at me, bleating in voices of every pitch and quality. I stood there and watched as they continued to run from the far end of the paddock. They assembled in a throng of a couple of hundred, going baa, baa. I felt like John Howard confronting a mob of gun-owners and 4WD motorists. Petrol's too deeaar. Gotta have a big caar, baa, baa. I left the sheep who quickly lost the plot as sheep do, wandering off to find some grazing. The path led through a densely wooded, damp area and I had to find my way around big pools. The old railway reserve ran beside the path, the tracks long since torn up. I passed the ruins of the bridge that had carried the track over Boyup Brook, crossed the brook myself over a footbridge, climbed up and over a new road that had been built across the area and entered the former railway yards. The old station still stands, used as an information centre but not changed in form from the days when passengers waited there to be chugged slowly to Donnybrook for a change of train to Northcliffe, Augusta, Bunbury or Perth. The old railway barracks are used for back packer accommodation. Bits of the old track are still in place. I finally climbed the steep hill past the post office and some derelict lots, back to the hotel. The hotel cook had had to go to Bunbury because her husband had collapsed, so I was invited to seek my dinner elsewhere. I got chicken and chips at the cafe up the street and ate them watching TV in the dreary little lounge. There were no other guests and the licencee came in during the evening to see if I was happy. He brought the stuff in for next morning's breakfast. Reading at Boyup Brook: 144km. Day: 40 km. Cumulative 108 km, 54 km/day. Speed Noggerup to Boyup Brook: 18.2 kph.
DAY 3, Boyup Brook - NannupWEDNESDAY 20 SEPTEMBER This was to be the first challenge day of the trip. The distance wasn't extreme but it would be hilly. The day started sunny and cold but clouds soon covered the sky. The wind was light SE changing to S then SW. I was going to take a rest in Bridgetown and decide whether I could go on to Nannup. I was determined to go on because stopping for the night in Bridgetown would throw the whole trip out of whack and it would become another 1983, but the option was there if I really needed it. After a nice big breakfast in the silence of the deserted pub I let self and bike out of the front door and rolled away at 7:47. I made sure to find the correct Bridgetown road, not to go to Kojonup. The country was beautiful and hilly and flower-strewn. I rested at 160, then arrived in Bridgetown at 9:37, 175. I came down Steere Street, well known and remembered from previous rides (1985, 1987, 1991, 1996, 1998). I bought a couple of postcards and some drink in the shop and sat on the familiar wooden seat looking down towards Hampton Road and remembering previous times that I had sat here and the different feelings I had had. There was never any doubt that I would go on. It was doable, bike and self were in good shape and I had to go on. I rolled down Steere street into Hampton Road, went down that, over the bridge and took the right turn that said 'Nannup 43km'. Bridgetown sits in a sort of bowl in the landscape so that, from any direction, there is always a mad downhill rush to get in and a stiff climb to get out. This Nannup road, which I hadn't taken since 1983, was the worst. I haven't the really big uphill gear on this new bike that I had on the old one. I might dismantle the cluster and fit it before another ride. I had to walk up some of the ever-winding-uphill road. My unfit heart was racing. After that I found my second wind and didn't take a drink and rest stop until 201, more than half way from Bridgetown to Nannup. The steep downhill run that I remembered from 1983 looked different this time - not so much forest beside the road. Smoke billowed across the road from some work that was going on and I didn't feel safe as the bike accelerated towards 60 kph on this winding descent. I touched the brakes on the corners. I reached the Nannup hotel at 12:52, 223 and claimed my unit. The tariff was $66. I was very pleased to have got here and the next day's second challenge looked good. The ride was on track. I got into my unit, much as I remembered it from 1991 and 1992 but not so new-looking. I had the usual cup of tea and some lunch bought from the cafe. There was still a rotary hoist behind the hotel and I hung my washing on that, including the sweaty backpack. There was still a noisy motor going on and off next to the units but it didn't bother me as it had 8-9 years before. After a rest I walked around the town, checked out the river and noted the flood levels reached in the disaster of 1982 caused by a cyclone. Another example of disaster visiting a place near the time of my first visit to it. I had first visited Nannup two months before that disastrous flood. I first visited Busselton and walked on the jetty about 4 months before Cyclone Alby demolished it. I was on my way to Hobart in January 1975 when the news came through of the Tasman Bridge being knocked down by a ship. I first went through Granville train station in Sydney about 3 months before that tragedy. I took a photo of the main street and did some shopping and made some 'phone calls, including one to the Augusta Motel, booking a unit. I was determined to attempt this trip for the first time in 19 years and felt more confident of doing it after today's success. Anyway there was no choice - there was nowhere to stop on the way. I bought a very nice dinner of chicken nachos from the cafe and settled in to watch Olympics on TV and read and relax. Reading at Nannup: 223 km. Day's ride: 79. Aggregate: 187 km. km/day 62. Kph,: .
DAY 4, Nannup - AugustaTHURSDAY 21 SEPTEMBER I started from Nannup at 7:28 on a cold morning - che gelide manine. It was sunny and the forest looked beautiful in the clear white light. As in 1981, the first 20km seemed easy despite the hills. I rested at 244 at a quaint picnic spot that hadn't been there in 1981. A gravel bank had been built beside the road and tables and benches placed on it, made from lumps of wood that happened to be shaped more or less to the purpose. A number of other lumps of wood, shaped naturally to resemble birds and animals, had been placed or hung about. Soon after resuming my journey I passed a log that looked like the one at which I had taken my first rest in 1981. Apres cela, le deluge. On this occasion the weather stayed good, a nearly calm morning giving way to a light SW breeze, not a serious obstacle. I took my next rest at 265, passed the junction with Sue's Road (upgraded for a mineral sands project) at 271, Denis Road at 280, then rested again at Scott River Road at 284, at which point I reckoned I had 30km to go. I was going to take the short cut and save a few km by turning left down Glenarty Road, which I did at 295. Before that turn I had been climbing up a long hill and it seemed harder than it should have. I got off and found that the back carrier was actually in continuous contact with the back wheel, wearing away the side of the tyre and the plastic on the carrier. The process had been soundless and it must have been going for a while, making my journey noticeably harder than it need have been. The cause was the loss of the nut from the bracket holding the carrier to the frame on the left side, so that the whole thing was flopping over to the left under the weight of the bag. I stopped at a deserted run-down hall and roughly fixed the problem by jamming the carrier back on the bolt that had lost its nut and using the wire with which I secure the bag to tie the whole thing up. It was better but still loose and I had to keep turning around as I rode, to shove the bag rightwards and keep the carrier off the wheel. Glenarty Road was another of those short cuts which save you a few km but give more grief back in the form of steeper hills and/or gravel. It was much hillier than the main highway and I hadn't known that it was being upgraded - the gravel started at 303 and I couldn't ride on it, so I took my rest and contemplated walking the 4km to the main highway. In the event it wasn't that bad - I only had to walk about 1 km, after which I could ride. The road became normal by the time it reached the main highway at Kudardup. Down the last few km, up the last steep hill approaching Augusta, over the top and into the town. One of the first things I passed was a hardware shop, part of the local shopping centre. So I would be able to get all the things I needed to fix this back rack. It was with great satisfaction that I went into the hotel to claim my unit. I had made it with ease, bike and I were in good shape (apart from the extraneous back carrier) and nothing ahead looked as hard as today, although weather forecasts for the days ahead were already warning me of possible difficulty in the run up from Bunbury. The ride had depended on making it to Augusta by Thursday and it now looked like being a great, full ride. The girl in the hotel wondered where I had cycled from. "Nannup," I replied. Her eyes widened. "You're a legend!" she said. I did some shopping, including some nuts and bolts and a length of wire with which to fix the back carrier, then had a cup of tea and lunch and a rest then decided to take just a short ride for a swim and leave the Cape Leeuwin-Flinders Lookout run till early the next morning. Before going for a swim I put the new nut and bolt on the back carrier and tied it up with wire suspended from the saddle. It would do till a neater and more permanent fix could be accomplished on my return home. I checked it each morning thereafter but it ceased to be an issue. Instead of going as always in the past to Flinders Bay, I took my swim at the Landing, the point where settlers first came ashore in 1830. An area of clear water was protected by a reef. It was most refreshing and soothing after the day's toil. After that I rode back up the hill to the motel, showered and changed and went over to the local Chinese restaurant to order a takeaway (duck in plum sauce and barbecued pork ribs). While waiting for this I went to the telephone and booked a unit in the Freycinet Motel (the Margaret River hotel was fully booked). I also tried to book the Dunsborough Motel but it did not appear anywhere in the Accommodation Guide supplied by the tourist bureau. This delayed me getting back to the restaurant. I fetched my food which had been waiting several minutes and went back to the motel for the usual lazy evening. There were telephone directories in the motel unit and there it was, 'Dunsborough motel'. I wrote down the number to book it the next day. Reading at Augusta: 321. Day: 98 km. Cumulative 285 km. kpd 71. Speed to Augusta: 16.8 kph.
DAY 5, Augusta - Margaret RiverFRIDAY 22 SEPTEMBER I didn't look at any of the caves on this trip - I have seen them all several times, there aren't any new ones and they will still be there next time, and I wanted to do other things and not get too tired. I left the motel at about 7 am on a cool sunny morning, arrived at the Flinders Memorial at about 7:30 and made the usual record of my visit. I can still see 'CAP 4/12/80' from my first visit 20 years ago. It was a beautiful morning and I enjoyed the Cape, this blasted hillside where all the cold fronts come ashore. A fisherman far below on the rocks prepared for an pleasurable day. After climbing down to the water and back and taking some photographs I went back to the motel and prepared to leave. I left the Augusta Motel at 9:53, 334. I took a rest at 350 and listened to the Australian Women's water polo team come from behind in the last few minutes to beat the Russians in a semi-final. They were to go on and win the final. I took another rest at 366, at Rocky Road, then reached Margaret River at 379, 12:23. I claimed my unit at the Freycinet - tariff $89. It was good, with radio and TV with a remote. There was a rotary hoist for washing at the back of the row of units opposite. I didn't go for the usual swim down to Gnarabup beach because it is a 22 km round trip and again I wanted to conserve energy. I can always do it another time. I still felt tired after the 'Drang nach Kusten'. In fact I did almost nothing in Margaret River except laze about and do a bit of shopping. I also managed to book a unit at the Dunsborough Motel, which turned out to have been renamed the 'Mercure Inn' but it still didn't appear in the Guide. I didn't take any of the scenic walks that I have taken before. I went back to the motel early to watch the movie 'Mansfield Park', which I hadn't seen, on the in-house video. Then I went to Mama's Chinese kitchen to get a combination takeaway and settled in for the evening. This was to be the first of four bad nights' sleep. I was having trouble finding a balance between drinking enough fluid to avoid dehydration, without drinking too much and having to get up every hour or two in the night. I was also eating too much dinner, too late. It is better to have a small early dinner and a large breakfast and a good lunch. Medication helped but I wanted to avoid that and not get dependent on it. Sleeping in a different, though nice, place every night also makes me restless, though it is fun. I am not as tolerant as when I was young. Reading at Margaret River: 380. Km for day: 59. Aggregate: 344. Km per day: 69. Kph to Margaret River: 18.
DAY 6, Margaret River - DunsboroughSATURDAY 23 SEPTEMBER I rode up to the Margaret River post office to send a postcard and left there at 9:00, 381. I rode over the bridge then turned left up Carter's Road, then right into Caves Road. I took that route in 1978 on the rainy windy morning of a wonderful day which turned out to be the last day of that ride; the next day I had a broken chain 3km outside Busselton and had to take a lift to Bunbury to catch the Australind train home. The morning was cool and partly cloudy with a light southerly. I rested at 397, and right there on the side of the road, beside a log, was an orchid. I was delighted to find one. It had broad shiny petals like a blue enamel orchid but they were violet, darkening to maroon and almost black at the tips. I took a photograph of it. Not a great one with a small light disposable camera but better than nothing. I rested again at 413. While I was having my drink and checking the map for the turn-off to Yallingup a van, heading south, stopped and the driver asked me for directions. He said he didn't know where they were and that they wanted some petrol. I showed him on the map exactly where they were and suggested that petrol could be got at Yallingup, only 8km back, or failing that at Dunsborough, another 8km. I also said that Dunsborough would have a good newsagent who would carry a useful map. He thanked me, chucked a U-turn and headed north. I reached the Yallingup turn-off at 421 and turned left to go down to the beach. As I reached the top of the steep descent the scene was awesome - the land rising steeply from the broad bay, the sea far below with huge waves breaking on the reefs and beaches. I plunged down and found the town much bigger than I remembered it - it was little more than a shop in 1978 and 1983. Lots of people walked about and a surprising number took advantage of the beach, though it was a cool day. Odometer reading 423 at the beach. I found a patch of icy clear blue-green water protected by reefs and took my swim. This was delightful and I felt like staying there all day, but it is better to get out while you still feel you could stay a bit longer. I dried and changed then toiled up the hill (after getting lost - more than one road going up now and I took the dead end) back to the turnoff, which I reached at 426. I rushed down the hill to Dunsborough, arriving at the bar of the hotel (434) just in time to see one of the great events of the Olympics - the race for gold between Kieren Perkins and Grant Hackett. After that I claimed my unit. It was a smoker and was $13 cheaper than a non-smoker, $76 instead of $89. Surprising - I would expect it to be the other way around. The unit was no better than one you would pay $50 for in other places but it was pleasant enough and the fact is that Dunsborough and Margaret River are expensive places to stay. 20 years ago this wasn't the case. When I paid for my unit the girl said "Where have you ridden from today?" I replied "Margaret River and Yallingup." She said "You ought to be in the Olympics!" Not according to what I was hearing on the radio. Those Olympic hoons do my whole ride's distance in a few hours at an average speed of over 40 kph. The unit faced a football oval that hadn't been there 20 years ago. The whole 'Inn' complex had expanded even since 1997. I had my usual rest then set off for Meelup Beach. I started from the junction of Caves Road with the new main Naturaliste Road at 435, reached the Meelup Beach Road turnoff at 439, the beach itself at 441. It was as calm and clear and beautiful as always and there were a surprising number of people there, in the water or walking or sitting on the beach and grass, for a cool September afternoon. I enjoyed my swim, not worrying about being in the water too long because I only had to ride 6 more km today. I toiled up the hill on the way back, pausing at the lookout, reached the MBR turnoff at 443 and Dunsborough at 447. I ordered a pizza from the Big Pig Pizza shop. It was more expensive than the 3 for $20 pizzas you get in Perth but the quality was better too. I made bookings - for the Esplanade Hotel in Busselton, where I have always stayed since 1977, and the Ocean Drive Motel in Bunbury. The lady asked me what I wanted. "Oh, just the basic unit," I said. "Just the basic unit?" she mocked. "My husband and I bought this place three years ago and it was a rat'ole! We've totally redone it!" She painted a glowing picture of what I would get for $60. The usual lazy evening followed. Reading at Dunsborough, end of day: 448. Day's ride: 68 km. Aggregate: 412. Km/day: 69.
DIGRESSION:
DAY 7, Dunsborough - BusseltonSUNDAY 24 SEPTEMBER The day was cool to mild and sunny with northerly winds shifting north-westerly, then south-westerly. I was going to make it all the way to Cape Naturaliste for the first time and it was a perfect day for this. I got lost trying to get out of Dunsborough the old way - there are lots of new roads and the turning of the old main Naturaliste Road into a shopping mall has complicated things. I started on the proper road at 450, went up and down a lot of hills, passed some paddocks containing livestock and others containing only arum lilies, crossed streams and traversed forests until the sea and the lighthouse came into view. I reached the lighthouse, 464, declined to pay the ranger and sneaked around the back way to find the way to the walk trails and the viewing platform. There were carelessly drawn maps showing you the way. The journey wasn't far and the scenery was beautiful, but the track was rough, particularly where it went downhill, with numerous limestone fossils poking through the sand. The sea, far below, stretched away, looking huge in comparison to the way I usually see it. It was deep clear blue-green near the shore and cobalt blue further out. The tiny white wake of a small boat trailed over the surface far out. I didn't see a sign of any whales but I believe they turned up the following week. I found the wooden rotunda and the walkway stretching along the cliff. Seals glistened as they basked in the sun on wave-rinsed rocks far below. There were a variety of interesting bird calls to listen to. At the end of the walkway I started to take a photo, when a young woman arrived and asked me if I wanted to be in the picture. I told her just to have me on the edge and include this and that scenery. She took the picture and gave my camera back. I said "I expect you'd like me to return the favour". She said "Yes, please!" and I took a picture of her with her camera, upon which she immediately hurried back up the walkway. Perhaps she was on one of these quick tours - go there, see this, do that, piss off. I lingered longer, having gone to the trouble of getting to this lovely place, and not knowing when or if I would be back. Eventually I trudged back to the lighthouse and had my drink before starting back. Just then a bus rolled up and disgorged a dozen chattering, laughing young tourists. They asked me for advice. I asked them where they came from and they said Indonesia. I expressed hope that they were having a nice trip then told them how to get to the viewing platform and that it wasn't far. I said the track was a bit rough in places and they should be careful. They asked me for an opinion as to their shoes. Some of them were wearing sensible shoes but most of the girls wore flashy high-heeled boots and glittery sandals. I advised that these were not so good and they might want to take them off. I set off back to Dunsborough, knowing that I had only a few more km of these hills that had been part of the ride ever since Monday, after Dardanup. I would reach the top of the rise at Meelup Beach Road and then it was downhill to Dunsborough then flat or gently undulating all the way back to Cottesloe, apart from a bit of a rise shortly before Mandurah. I already knew by now, from radio and TV reports, that there would be headwinds and possibly rain for my 100 km ride from Bunbury to Mandurah. One purpose of this ride had been to set a new PB for that run, on the new bike, before I get too old, but that seemed unlikely now. I would be struggling to make it at all. This was not a hard day, the ride the next day to Bunbury would be easy and I would set out early for Mandurah and ride conservatively, not pushing it. I passed through Dunsborough at 11:57, 478, rested at 481. Dunsborough is now spreading up Caves Road to the west, northwards towards the Cape and eastwards towards Busselton. It is going to be bigger than Busselton in years to come, and they will merge to form a continuous built-up strip along the shore of the bay. I reached Busselton at 1:19, 502. I hadn't been able to book the traditional upstairs room because they are refurbishing the old building and not much of it is open, so I had a unit at the back, $49.50. It was good value. I had a rest then walked through the trees to the beach for a refreshing swim beside the famous jetty. After that I had a hot shower and changed and hung my washing on the rotary hoist at the end of the units. I also booked the Mandurah Gates Resort for Tuesday night. The end of the ride was in sight now that I was making the last booking. That Tuesday ride would be the last challenge and it looked like being more difficult than the previous four times I have ridden from Bunbury to Mandurah, due to the expected wind and weather conditions. But at worst I could always cancel the booking. It was best to make it, since they seemed to be quite busy with the school holidays and wanted me to be there by a certain time on Tuesday, otherwise they would give the room to someone else. I had duck with mushroom for dinner, in my unit while watching Olympics, then took the traditional walk along the jetty. The jetty has now been rebuilt much further out than it was in 1997, almost to the end, where the light could be seen blinking. I was able to walk way out, and some way beyond the last light came to the gap. The blinking light seemed very close. It is a long time since I have been out to the end and climbed the tower where the light is. It was some time between 1978, when the old section of the jetty was destroyed, and the time they decided to repair the remainder of it instead of letting it fall down. It must have been in the early 80's because it got too dangerous after that. There were no lights and loose timber went clunk, clunk as you crept along. There was no moon and I could see the glows in the sky from Capel, Bunbury and, quite unmistakably, the Perth Metropolitan area. Venus cast a path of light across the water. The Naturaliste lighthouse flashed and the ever-longer streak of lights that was Dunsborough twinkled. There was a cool breeze coming off the land. After that I watched a bit more TV then retired. Reading at Busselton: 503. Day's ride 55 km. Aggregate: 467. Kpd 67. Speed Dunsborough to Busselton: 18.? kph.
DAY 8, Busselton - BunburyMONDAY 25 SEPTEMBER After an early morning swim I got ready in a leisurely way and didn't leave Busselton till 9:57. I did not attempt on this occasion to leave Busselton by the coast road and join the main road via Wonnerup, as I have done most times in the past. Erosion destroyed much of the coast road during the 80's and 90's and new developments have made it hard to find the way, so I just went south down Queen Street and found the main Bussell highway. Part of this is a new bypass, and the old section has been renamed Tuart Drive, a scenic route. Of course trucks still use it. I rested at 519, then left the main highway to find Capel, which used to be on the main highway until they built the bypass. This was new to me in 1997 when I missed Capel on the way down. I stopped at Colroy's Tearooms, 530, for a drink as so often in the past. They are still named Colroy's and still look exactly the same, with the little dining room where I had that long soothing lunch in 1977 on the last leg of a difficult ride to Busselton. 1977 was the first of these rides, I had my old clunker bike with the 3 speed hub and back pedal brake and I didn't know squat about long-distance riding or bike maintenance. I left Colroy's at 11:38 and went the rest of the way to Bunbury non-stop as usual, the day being fine and cool with a light westerly. On reaching the centre of Bunbury, 558, I was surprised to find that the time was only 12:53. From Colroy's to this point had taken 75 minutes, equal to my personal best, achieved years ago with a better tailwind. I hadn't actually meant to get to the centre of Bunbury - I had been looking for the shortest link between the Bussell Highway and Ocean Drive, which according to my old map would have brought me up beside my motel. But I had missed it, probably because of new developments and road changes, or maybe just not seeing it, so I had to backtrack and find a road that brought me to Ocean Drive some way north of the motel. I had a look around familiar places in the city before doing that. I reached the motel at 562, claimed my unit and paid for it. It was not much different from 1997, despite the claims of the lady whom I had spoken to on the 'phone, only for the addition of a microwave oven and a modern TV with a remote. I had my rest then went down to the wild ocean beach for a refreshing swim. I had to walk up a bit to get away from the reef. In 1997 there was sand there, but that was later in the year. I showered and changed and went down to the shopping centre to get some drinks for the Mandurah run and some food for dinner and breakfast. Because of the microwave oven I got a couple of pies which I could heat up. I also got a couple of sweet cakes. I had a hot pie and a cake for dinner and for breakfast. I got back to the motel in time to see Kathy Freeman do her 400m thing in that funny suit. It was all over very quickly. The water polo and 1500m gold medals were better value. I had my dinner early and hoped for an early night and a good sleep for the challenge day ahead. The weather report on TV made it quite clear that there would be headwinds for me. Northeasterlies, turning north, then northwest and freshening, with showers developing. An early start was essential. Reading at Bunbury, end of day: 566 km. Day's ride: 63 km. Aggregate: 530 km. Km/day: 66. Speed Capel to Bunbury: 22 kph.
DAY 9, Bunbury - MandurahTUESDAY 26 SEPTEMBER I left the Ocean Drive motel at 6:58 on a clear morning without much wind. I had intended to get to Koombana Drive and go straight down to the big roundabout, turning left just before that to get onto the old, old coast road, through Australind. But I got lost as usual because my photocopied maps of Bunbury didn't include that segment, only the bits showing me the way to get out the previous Monday. So I went through the heart of the city and had to come at the roundabout from the south, go through it and then do a right turn to get onto the Australind road. Once there I was safe for a while - the next chance to get lost was where I had to take the Cathedral Avenue (oddly named) scenic route, which was flatter and saved a bit of distance, rather than the main continuation of the coast road. The stretch between Bunbury and Australind was noticeably built up even since 1997. Urbanisation is now continuous. In 1979 when I first did this run the petrol station and shop at Australind, beside the lake, stuck out and you couldn't miss them, but now they are hard to pick amongst the continuous development. I found this short cut and took my first rest at 590, just after rejoining the main Old Coast Road. There was definitely a headwind now but it was still light. I was deliberately riding conservatively, not worrying about time, just about making it comfortably. I took the next rest at 613, by which time the northerly had become quite fresh. At the Lake Clifton cafe, 633, I stopped for a while to buy a choc milk and take a couple of Nurofens. There were only 40 km to go and everything was fine, but the wind was now strong in gusts and had backed to the NW. In the shop I met a couple of cyclists who were enjoying themselves, heading south from Mandurah. We conversed about how the wind was usually from the SW on this run and how today it was good for them but bad for me. They were interested in the fact that I had come from Bunbury. While I was doing this run the radio was describing the 120 km women's road race in the Olympics. They started about the same time as me but of course finished way before me. I took my last rest at 650, in the hilly region before Mandurah, at the junction with Estuary Drive. I reached the Dawesville Cut and entered the Bouvard Bridge. I didn't rush over it and down the other side at high speed as I had in 1997. What a difference a wind makes. After that the last grind into Mandurah, through continuous suburbia, seemed longer than in 1997. But I was close enough to walk it in and was relaxed as I turned left onto the road that leads to the old town centre, rolled over the old bridge and stopped, 673, in front of the fishing tackle shop opposite the old Brighton hotel (still there; not in use and boarded up but apparently being rebuilt). I checked my watch; 1:13. 6 hours and 15 minutes from Bunbury. The worst time ever. I will have to have another go at it another time and hope for a really good tailwind. I arrived at the Mandurah Gates Resort at 674, claimed and paid for my unit and began to enjoy the aquatic delights. First, a barefoot walk to the ocean beach at the end of Stewart Street. The sea was delightful, not turbid like last year, but blue and clear, and not too rough despite the approaching cold front. Cloud was increasing and the day was cool so it was just as well to get to the beach before the weather closed in. I stayed in the sea for a long time, then dawdled back to the resort, jumped straight into the cold pool, then into the spa for a long warm soak. Finally it was time to do my laundry in the resort's laundromat. I washed everything including backpack and evening clothes. I dozed in the sun while it was clanking about in the dryer. I felt most content. The ride had been a great success. There was nothing left but the old familiar run back up the coast to Cottesloe, which I expected (wrongly, as it turned out) to be aided by a tailwind after the passage of the cold front. After a rest I went looking for dinner. The Chinese smorgasbord had closed down, to my great disappointment. I ate in another restaurant. I had the duck. I didn't bother to walk down to the old bridge to watch the fishing. I had another spa, then watched TV and finally retired to read my book. I slept quite well, without having to take any medication. The rain finally fell during the night. I heard it whispering and dripping outside and felt snug and content. Reading at Mandurah, end of day: 674 km. Day's ride: 108 km. Aggregate: 638 km. Km/day: 71. Speed Bunbury to Mandurah: 17.1 kph.
DAY 10, Mandurah - CottesloeWEDNESDAY 27 SEPTEMBER I was up early to get the lavish 'continental' breakfast included in the room price, before the dining room got too crowded. There was all the toast and cereal you could eat, also fresh fruit and fruit juices and coffee. I didn't go for an ocean swim, thinking it would be better to do that when I got home, when I would get more benefit from it. I had a spa, then in a leisurely way prepared to leave. There was no hurry on this last day, the weather was cool and the tailwind might kick up if I left a bit later.. I left the resort at 10:10. I turned off and took the old Mandurah Road, as I did last year. By this time it was already apparent that the wind was still NW, though light. I stopped to buy a drink at the shop beside the lake where I had stopped on the way down in 1977. I enjoyed the old road, it was not so busy and there were a lake and wooded country beside it, and in fact it is about a kilometre shorter than taking Ennis avenue and going through all those ghastly depressing new suburbs described in previous Ride stories. I missed them altogether and came out near Naval Base shops. I took another drink break at Cockburn Village, then kept going all the way home, which I reached at 739, 13:21. 3 hours 11 minutes from Mandurah. My PB is 2 hours 55 but that was achieved in 1997 with the aid of a roaring southerly. So the new bike had proved itself. The 2K ride ended as I dismounted the bike outside my back gate.
Final reading at end of ride: 739 km. Km for day: 65. Aggregate: 703. Kpd: 70. Kph to home: 20. Charles A. Pierce 2000Do you have questions about bicycle touring in Western Australia's SouthWest? You're welcome to ask Charles!
Bicycle Listings |
|
|
|
|
|
|
page 15 of 63 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20
|
