I haven’t been there for a while as the bike, Drahtesel 1.0, was on life support. The sun was shining, and the Blue Mountains were calling. One of my favourite places there – Dalpura Canyon.
Not much cycling, really. A short cycle from the train to the trailhead, and then a walk down through the pagodas to the shady, cool canyon.
The bike rides like a dream. Bring on the next 95,000km.
The sunsets in Croydon (in Far North Queensland) are famous. When my friend moved there, I had to visit – but, of course, by bicycle. I had a smörgåsbord of sunsets, but also waterfalls and long outback roads as I cycled from the tropical eastern coast to the mangroves on the Gulf of Carpentaria.
I wasn’t the only one chasing sunsets. I met a German walking across the world. He is just finishing a circle around Australia after spending the pandemic here. I last cycled past him crossing Khardung La – the highest motorable road in the world in the Himalayas. In Croydon I ran into the cyclists doing the annual Cairns to Karumba charity cycle. They were going out as I was going home.
For such a short trip it had many distinctive parts, making the holiday experience feel longer and more refreshing.
Palm studded sandy beaches at Palm Cove and Turtle Cove
Sunrise at Turtle Cove
Crater lakes and raging waterfalls on the Atherton Tablelands
Ellinjaa Falls
Hot springs and lava tubes on the savannah
Undara Lava Tubes
Sunset at Croydon
Mangrove beaches and offshore sand banks at Karumba
Mangrove beach at Karumba
Bird-filled sandy flats at Normanton
Mutton Hole Wetlands
Many thanks to John Thompson and the Cairns Cycling Group Rides Facebook Group for the tips, especially how to get from the coast to the Tablelands without becoming roadkill (from windy, steep, narrow roads). Quaid Road is the go! Thanks to Elizabeth in Croydon for the motivation to discover this part of Australia!
The grass was crackeling as the smoke billowed up and was blown away by the wind. The eagles and hawks circled and dived in a mad feeding frenzy. They were feeding on grasshoppers fleeing the flames. It felt like a special moment in this beautiful, barren landscape.
Looking at the landscape on Google Maps gets me excited. White plains with fingers of green in a fractal pattern as the rivers meander to the sea. I asked around how to get to this landscape. Many roads were blocked, but I could go to the Mutton Hole Wetlands. I’m glad I did.
It is a maze of tracks criss-crossing the landscape. Some ended in dead ends. Some ended at water that I didn’t dare to explore (because of crocs).
Dotted across the horizon were burns with smoke billowing out. I finally went to explore, and was amazed by the feeding spectacle.
The sandy track followed the beach on the other side of a sandhill. I was exploring in the dark as the sun was just becoming a pink glow on the horizon. The sea began to be studded with little mangrove bushes. They became more dense. Finally they opened out into a mangrove swamp the other side of the beach. Dead trees stood high in the mud, with birds perched on their tips. It was a beautiful sight. Silence broken by bird calls. And this was all for me.
This beautiful place I visited for two sunrises. It was my favourite, secret place. On the second morning I made a pire from the dead wood.
My second sunset at Karumba was on a sand bar 7km out to see. A boat took me and the other visitors out to have a meal and drinks. It was a beautiful, surreal place.
All of this was on my day off pottering around Karumba. The return trip to Normanton was a bit of a slog. I have grown accustomed to a tailwind. Heading east, my friend became my enemy, and I had to remember how it is slowly counting down the kms into the wind. Tomorrow is another rest day in Normanton.
It’s the end of the road. The road from Cairns has led here, and has now stopped. The land ends at this remote ‘Outback by the Sea’ town. People sip their drinks under the palm trees watching the sun turn to orange and then red over the sea, the mangroves and the emerging sand bars. The end of the world vibe. I love it.
The road here saw the vegetation slowly disappear as I pedalled through low grasslands and then salt pans.
And then the road rises and I pop out to a view of the sea.
The cycling day was short, but my body decided it was time to be lazy. And what a chill place to be lazy.
“They sun themselves on the salt flats. Massive things. As big as the statue. If you stay more than 50m away you’ll be fine. And stay away from the water.” I contemplate my stay in croc territory as I watch the sunset from the bridge over the Norman River. I’m excited.
Today was a perfect cycling day. An ever so gradual slope downwards and a handy tailwind. I left at 5:15am in the dark and glided along through the dark, watching the sky turn pink and then orange before the direct sunbeams poked out between the trees.
The Gulflander train stops at Blackbull siding at 10:15am on Thursdays. I was there at 9 for a snack and photos.
I waited for the train 105km from Croydon, waving as it passed.
A snack stop at Leichardt Lake before on to the big smoke – Normanton.
Out of Normanton is a pedestrian bridge over the Norman River. Its quite an impressive waterway. I spent an hour looking for crocs and watching the sky turn amazing colours.
I was watching the sunrise when my phone pinged. It was a photo of a positive RAT test. My friend Elizabeth, who I was here to visit, just tested positive for COVID.
We had spent the evening together (in the open air) and I had slept on her living room floor. I had 2 days visiting the poorly Elizabeth and testing myself for COVID.
Watching sunsets is a favourite pasttime in Croydon. I let the GoPro capture it while I consumed dinner at the pub.
I passed 84,000km on the bike doing errands around Croydon. I celebrated it, socially distanced, with Elizabeth and a banana cake.
An evening sunset train ride was a highlight as a German guy walked past with a trolley he has pulled all the way from Germany. I met the same guy in 2018 walking up Khardung La high pass at around 5000m altitude. This time he was circumnavigating Australia.
All is set for my onward journey to Normanton and Karumba. Without Elizabeth. Sorry that she will miss out on our luxury shoreline apartment and our luxury sunset boat trip.
I am still COVID negative. Let’s hope it stays that way.
Going to bed at 7.30pm means you get up at 3.30am and start riding at 5. It’s beautiful gliding along the outback road at night under the starry heavens. Slowly the horizon turns a firey orange, the birds explode in a chorus, and the day begins.
The sun still had it’s morning orange glow when I arrived at the sandy Gilbert River.
I reached Croydon by 2.30 – the goal of the trip. My friend Elizabeth has moved here and I wanted to see her new home. I love these outback towns – a few rows of streets, a pub, a shop and a service station. And a long way to the next town. Its time for a rest. My body is tired.
He ran to me – the long bearded road worker – waving me to stop. ‘Take this!’ He gave me a Red Bull. ”You’ll need this as you’re going out into f*ing nowhere.”
Today started early with sunrise at the river and then a leisurely tour of the Tarloo Hot Springs with our aboriginal guide Evine. She told the history of the springs, including the multiple times the white fellas promoted it’s healing waters. The springs were rearranged with concrete to show for it. Now the Aboriginal traditional owners are back in control and are aiming for sustainable tourism.
Trying to book my tour at Cobbold Gorge, I was told they were booked out. I soon realised I actually liked this and felt relieved I didn’t need to make a mad dash to see them and be in Croydon on time. When Cobbold Gorge rang back to say they had a cancellation and that I should come, I declined. I’m up for a rest day in Croydon.
I’m staying at a lovely dam filled with birds. I’m not the only one here, though. Its pretty busy..
“Dettol will kill them. Knocks ’em over.” He then got up and slapped it with his thong. And then again. Picking it up from by the hind leg, he lay it on some flat ground and gave it one final deadly blow. I had just witnessed the death of my first cane toad.
Today started with a bus ride back to where I had ridden yesterday. I joined the tour group as they scaled a volcanic crater with a nice view over the surrounding landscape.
The group then gingerly made its way into an amazing network of cylindrical tunnels formed by lava. There are over 150km of these tubes. We had a quick glimpse of them.
These are the sort of places I would love to fossick around by myself. A huge network of tunnels to explore. As part of a group, our hour walking around the tubes was enough.
Back in Mount Surprise, after a quick lunch of their famous vanilla slice (raved about by many) and a sandwich, I was off again on my bike into the Australian bush.
Destination was Talaroo Hot Springs. I have only heard good things about them. It is an immaculate, new setup. I only had time for a glimpse of the river tonight. Tomorrow I’ll have more time as well as a tour of the springs.
arctic-cycler.com 