Two years ago I arrived in Australia – having cycled from the Netherlands without catching a plane. After a turbulent readjustment time, I have now built up a new life in Australia. I have a new job, a new partner, and a new home.

With the stability and a regular job comes annual leave. This time I only have a month (rather than 2 years), so I am flying directly to the nice bits. I’ll be cycling in northern India from Shimla to Leh via the Spiti Valley.

Stay tuned to this channel for some blog entries and a video of this trip! 🙂


And so they stood, in their beautiful pink wedding dresses, their hair done up nicely, dainty on the road in front of their stationary VW bus wedding chariot. The bus revved up. Again. But the wheels refused to turn. After filming the ordeal I was pulled in to push the bus up the short ramp from the ferry to the road. The slope must have been all of 3%.

The wedding party

The wedding party

Today’s trip was from Gosford to Windsor along the Hawkesbury River. Google showed me a little road called Popran Road that performed a massive shortcut to the river. There were some locked gates, but, maybe doable. Plan B was the long way around through Mangrove Mountain.

Avoiding the motorway and the motorway bridge, I wiggled down to the valley floor and back up again on the old road. It was quiet and lovely, if a bit more strenuous.

The old Pacific Highway

The old Pacific Highway

The shortcut was through Glenworth Valley – a big horse riding area in a beautiful valley. The owners were lovely and let me through, onto Popran Rd and through to the Hawkesbury River.

Glenworth Valley

Glenworth Valley

Popran Road was lovely, although I couldn’t stop for long because of the ferocious mosquitos. They seemed to like the mangroves which were on the river shore.

Popran Rd

Popran Rd

Mangroves

Mangroves

Then along a lovely quiet road following the Hawkesbury River to Wisemans Ferry. The road back to Windsor was familiar, livened up by the wedding party ordeal.


The more remote sounding, the more appealing. I saw Lost World on the internet, and knew I had to go there. At the end of a long, bumpy, dead-end path, Lost World is a rock on the edge of a cliff, overlooking a beautiful Blue Mountains valley. I heard a coooo-eeee from the other side of the valley. And then silence again. They were far away, and couldn’t see me. I was at Lost World.

Lost World

Lost World

Every week I go to explore the option I discovered the week before. Last week I met some people that told me of an app with offline bike routes, and in particular of the routes south of the main trainline through the Blue Mountains. Starting at Wentworth Falls, I cycled past a swimming hole to Woodford, and then the ‘classic’ Oaks Trail.

The waterhole was silent. The road was closed for cars, and there is no way to get there except by cycling. The water was warm and still, and there was a trickle over the waterfall at the far end of the pool. I went for a cool-off swim and a relax in the mountain pool.

Ingar Pool

Ingar Pool

After the swim, I realised why the cars can’t get there. The road I came down was blocked, and the other road is too steep for most cars. Brakes screeching, I slid down the dirt track, crossed the river, and pushed my bike up the other side to Woodford.

Bedford Creek

Bedford Creek

On the way to Bedford Creek

On the way to Bedford Creek

From Woodford, the ‘classic’ Oaks Trail is sandy, bumpy and up and down. But, the side road to Lost World is steeper, bumpier and just as much soft sand. There were mountain bikers hooting along the Oaks Trail. There wasn’t a soul on the path to Lost World.

Road to Lost World

Road to Lost World

Road to Lost World

Road to Lost World

Road to Lost World

Road to Lost World

Lost World

Lost World

Forest fire

Forest fire

Lost World

Lost World


‘It’s a walking path, but, yeah, you should be able to make it down!’
My plan of returning back down the dead-end road back to Lithgow was transformed into a beautiful loop through pristine Blue Mountains landscape.

Wolgan Valley

Wolgan Valley

The return was also on a dead-end road, through the Wolgan Valley. Dead-end roads are the best. There are hardly any cars. People are too busy going from A to B to worry with dead-end roads. Cycling on them is like being on a different planet.

Wolgan Valley

Wolgan Valley

Wolgan Valley

Wolgan Valley

And the kind of people driving on the road are cool. Some cycling fans recognised my bike – a Koga with Rohloff hub. They were so excited they stopped for a photo opportunity, and then offered me food and water. It was like being on the world bike trip all over again!

Friendly people

Friendly people

At the end of the dead-end road is an old pub that now runs as a kiosk on weekends. Entering there makes you feel time has stood still.

Newnes pub

Newnes pub

Going backwards in time through the day, to get to the Wolgan Valley, I had to descend from the Newnes plateau, where I passed through the Glowworm tunnel (I’ll come to that). The plateau comes abruptly to a halt at some vertical rock walls. There is a little walking path that makes its way down, but, it involved a little bit of carrying the bike.. 🙂

Down to the Wolgan Valley

Down to the Wolgan Valley

Approaching the Glowworm tunnel

Approaching the Glowworm tunnel

The actual trip was inspired by a turn-off I passed last week to the ‘Glow worm tunnel’. That sounded too good to miss. The glow worm tunnel is at the end of a 35km dirt road from Lithgow that passes over the Newnes plateau. In the middle of the tunnel, total darkness reigns. After a few minutes, when the eyes adjust, little green points of light appear. Everywhere. Like millions of stars in the night sky, the glow worms dot the blackness with life.

The Glowworm tunnel

The Glowworm tunnel

Entrance to another tunnel

Entrance to another tunnel

A palm paradise

A palm paradise

Approaching the Glowworm tunnel

Approaching the Glowworm tunnel

Approaching the Glowworm tunnel

Approaching the Glowworm tunnel

Approaching the Glowworm tunnel

Approaching the Glowworm tunnel


‘Yep. You should be alright,’ they said, eyeing off my touring bike. ‘You could get past on that.’ Well, the road was closed, and had been for years, judging by the state of it. A quiet descent into the lonely valley in the Blue Mountains. Not a soul was there, and I was happy.

Bowens Creek Road

Bowens Creek Road

The main roads in the Blue Mountains are not that great – cars scooting along around sharp corners and not much room for cyclists. My plan was to leave the busy Bells Line Of Road asap, and I headed off to the road to Mt Wilson, past the ‘Cathedral of Ferns’ and a few lovely lookouts.

Cathedral of Ferns

Cathedral of Ferns

Wynnes Lookout

Wynnes Lookout

The closed road connects Mt Irvine to Bilpin. It is closed due to a crumbly bridge at the bottom of a long descent, and due to numerous places where the road has caved away and slipped down the steep valley slope. There were lots of big rocks and bumps, and it wasn’t much wider than a walking trail. And there were numerous trees that had fallen across the road. It was a lot of fun!

Bridge Bowens Creek

Bridge Bowens Creek

Bowens Creek Road

Bowens Creek Road

Bowens Creek Road

Bowens Creek Road

Bowens Creek Road

Bowens Creek Road

Returning to the main road, I had to leave as quickly as possible. It was the end of the Australia Day long weekend, and the mad drivers were building. So, I did my little detour through Mountain Lagoon, and remained in peace until just before Richmond. A lovely way to spend a Sunday in the Blue Mountains.


It was a cool oasis. The rocks rose above me on three sides, the cool mountain water cascading over the edge above. The grotto was shaded from the sun, and the temperature was several degrees lower. I sat there feeling the oneness with nature, entering a trance, my brain pulsing with the beats of the cicadas’ song. Alone in the Blue Mountains.

Waterfall at Burralow Creek

Waterfall at Burralow Creek

Today was a loop on tracks, avoiding the main Bell Line of Road as much as possible. Once I left the main road, I plunged into the bush, bumping down into the steep valley, to the drone of the cicadas. The Burralow Creek camping ground was almost empty, just one car, which belonged to some Indians I met on the way to the waterfall.
‘Go to the waterfall at night,’ they told me. ‘There are glow worms.’
That’ll have to be next time.

Waterfall at Burralow Creek

Waterfall at Burralow Creek

Waterfall at Burralow Creek

Waterfall at Burralow Creek

Waterfall at Burralow Creek

Waterfall at Burralow Creek

On the way back up out of the valley I scared a couple of horses pulling carts. Not what I expected to see off the beaten track in the Blue Mountains.

The Mountain Lagoon road was another road that wasn’t the main one, and so I took it. The lagoon is not that special, but the road was pleasant enough.

Mountain Lagoon

Mountain Lagoon

The side track to the Colo River lookout was a bit up and down and sandy in parts, but afforded a beautiful view out over the Colo River.

Colo River

Colo River

The road remained dirt until quite late in the piece, which meant it was tranquil until I hit the Bell Line of Road again just before the end. I even had a little adventure fording a stream.

Fording the stream

Fording the stream

AND, my trusted ‘Drahtesel’ bicycle is not 60,000km old. Quite an old bike now, although not much is left of the bike that I left Eindhoven on. The pedals are the same, and the pannier carriers are the same. Not a lot else.

60,000km for Drahtesel, the bike

60,000km for Drahtesel, the bike

Waterfall, mountain lagoon and river crossing, all completed by sunset. A beautiful ride in the mountains Sydney calls its own.


“It’s hot, like the sea in Borneo. Wow! Here’s a cold spot. Now it’s cold around my feet, and warm at my top.”
All alone in this little park we swam, through the green cool waters with the cicada frenzy all around. A short cycle, and we were off the highway and into paradise.

Elizabeth at Mirang Pool

Elizabeth at Mirang Pool

I had never thought of cycling through Heathcote National Park – it looks so small on the other side of the Princes Highway from the Royal National Park. This one was a suggestion from the people at Oma Fiets – my local bike shop.

Very soon we left the busy Princes Highway, and were instantly alone on a small road through the bush to a tranquil dam.

Woronora Dam

Woronora Dam

The Pipeline Trail was blocked by a gate which meant that no cars could disturb us, and we proceed to scoot down a dirt track into the valley. The Mirang Pool is not such a long walk from the Heathcote train station, although we didn’t take this route, and were a beautiful, refreshing stop before the steep ascent back to the ridge top.

Mirang Pool

Mirang Pool