Mountains to the Sea

I wobbled off from home on a fully laden bike weighing 45kg and wondered why I hadn’t taken mum’s advice and chosen an easier route. But where would be the challenge in that? My goal was to circle the New England National Park, involving over 400km of riding – from sea level up to a high point of 1560m, then back down to the coast. And not only that, my plan was to ride it alone.

Having decided to spend 3 months cycle touring through Scandinavia I thought it was probably a good idea to see what I thought of travelling alone by bike. I wasn’t feeling daunted by the physical difficulties so much as the mental and emotional challenges of negotiating unfamiliar places with limited resources. So I conjured up this little adventure in order to see how I would fare.

Heading west from Kempsey, the dairy farms of the Lower Macleay soon gave way to rolling hills and heavily timbered country. The two small villages I passed would be the last for several days, as I made my way up into the hills. In the second of these villages, Bellbrook, I was invited in for a cuppa by the local doctor and his wife. They seemed to take me under their wing and offered me cake and kindly words of advice about the road ahead. This was the first of many encounters that helped restore my faith in humanity, and I left with a full belly and a big smile on my face.

I was slightly apprehensive about my first night camped alone. Although not a busy road, the route I was following is a thoroughfare to Armidale, and gets a reasonable amount of local traffic. In some ways I felt quite isolated, being just me and my bike with no means of contacting anyone quickly, and somewhat vulnerable to whomever the passers-by happened to be. However I awoke next morning to a valley deeply shrouded in mist and was greeted shortly thereafter with a warm and welcoming hug from a lady who lives just down the road. She was inspired by my journey and wished me all the best in my travels. And simple as that, my fears were alleviated and dissolved into excitement about the day ahead.

The Upper Macleay is very picturesque, with the river lazily winding its way through green pastures and wide gravel bars. From my vantage point on the road above, I could see deep into the boulder-strewn waters and to the distant blue hills which loomed larger with each passing kilometre. After a pleasant morning of gently undulating road, I began the unrelenting 11km ascent of the ‘Big Hill’. It was a really tough ride, but I was mentally prepared for it to be nearly impossible, so measured against my expectations it didn’t seem so bad. Slowly, slowly I wound my way to the top, with regular encouragement from passing motorists and even the occasional offer of a lift!

Reaching the top felt like a major accomplishment, but given the late hour I continued on in the hope of finding a campsite with water. I saw not a single soul along the forest road and as the daylight waned I gave up hope of finding water and made camp on a small side road. I celebrated that night with a special tin of dolmades I’d reserved for the occasion and enjoyed the night sounds and smells of the bush which made me feel right at home.

The Styx River Forest Way is an incredibly scenic drive. Tree ferns are scattered beneath tall stands of Eucalypts, and a short distance from the road the escarpment drops away to reveal panoramic views of the Macleay Valley. However by bike it was an absolute struggle. The combination of steep ups and downs and a loose rocky surface caused me to alternate between cursing dad’s suggested ‘short cut’ and revelling in the peace and beauty of the trail. Then all of a sudden I emerged onto a good dirt road and crossed a small stream containing the first water I'd seen since lunchtime the previous day. And with that, the national park and the high point of my journey was almost within reach.

Perched at 1563m above sea level, Point Lookout is one of the highest spots on the New England tableland and is the first place I remember seeing snow as a child. From the summit I could trace my entire route through the hills and even see the wide expanse of ocean 70km away. It is a gorgeous place, with sub-alpine woodlands and corridors of ancient antarctic beech trees draped in moss. I enjoyed the last few hours of daylight wandering about the top, then descended to my campsite amongst the trees, with a full moon watching over me.

It took two days to ride back to the coast, with the highlight being a spectacular descent through the lush rainforests of Dorrigo National Park. I was rather excited to encounter rain on the second day as it gave me a chance to test out all my wet weather gear and made me feel even more intrepid. After a day riding in the rain, my late afternoon swim at the beach seemed exceedingly warm in comparison. And best of all was the sense of achievement I felt in having accomplished something of a personal challenge, and enjoyed almost every minute of it.

For me, the biggest thing I learnt on this trip is just how important one’s attitude is in whether goals can be achieved. If you worry all the time about what might go wrong then things quickly become too hard, too dangerous, too difficult, and you limit the realms of possibility and cease to believe in yourself. I enjoyed the solitude of my ride but also discovered that I need to make those little connections with people to really feel like I’m experiencing a place rather than just passing through unobtrusively. Happily, it’s given me the confidence to embark upon my next adventure, satisfied in the knoweledge that I can make my dreams become a reality.