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Glass House Mountains, south of the Blackall Ranges |
From Byron Bay we decided it was now warm enough to head inland. We think they were great bikes roads but the consistent drizzle made them hard to appreciate. We went out through Kyogle (does anyone else think it sounds like an internet search engine?) then took yet another famous bike road, “The Lions Road”. I had been looking forward to this road long before we left home, having read about it many times. Unfortunately the fog was so thick we never saw the view, and it made us concentrate extremely hard to stay upright on the challenging road. Maybe tomorrow will be better?
Thanks to The Bear’s Australian
Motorcycle Atlas I had the next day’s route all planned. First a run along the
Brisbane Valley Highway around Lake Wivenhoe, a quick trip across Mt Glorious
and followed by the road up through Dayboro and D’Aguilar. As if this wasn’t
enough, we then planned to drop down along Peachester Road thru the fabulous
Peacheaster Esses then back up along the Old Gympie road into the Blackall
Range. This takes in Routes 7, 13, 6, 4 and 11 from the aforementioned Road
Atlas. What a ride, knocking off five of the top 100 bike routes in one day.
The only problem was it rained all day. It only stopped for a couple of minutes
a couple of times. Welcome to sunny Queensland! We were so tired when we final
got to Mapleton that we went to the wrong caravan park. We couldn’t work out
why we couldn’t find the camp kitchen or TV room. Too tired to cook we retired
to the local Pub, had a great meal and sat on the wide veranda, in our wet
weather jackets, listening to some great acoustic blues. You just can’t plan
nights like this.
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Jane doing her thing |
The Blackall range had it all
(for us anyway). Firstly, the great bike roads. There is more traffic than we
are use too coming from the isolated west coast but also more bends and
elevation changes. Then there is the music, lots of great live music in lots of
different venues. Jane performed a set, with the resident band, in one of the
local restaurants. Of course, they had never heard any of her original songs
but they improvised with ease and they all had a great time. We were only just
down the road from the site of the famous Woodford Folk Festival, so we started
yet another plan to get back for the festival. The third thing we love about
the area was the proximity to Mooloolaba, arguably the mecca of yachting in
Australia. All of our interests, together in one spot. Oh, don’t forget the
Swiss bakery at Maleny which provided the icing on the cake.
After the Blackall Ranges we
managed to find some little back roads up to Tin Can Bay. Another trip down
memory lane as we had stayed here on our yacht in what now feels like a
previous life. Then up to Hervey Bay, where we were a little disappointed.
Maybe there is just too much hype about this town. It seemed to having been
badly affected by the global economic crisis. We were told its whole economy is
based on whale watching, which you can now do everywhere. You couldn’t even get
a cappuccino along the foreshore in the evening.
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What a place to set up camp, Seventeen Seventy |
Next
was Seventeen Seventy, where we had a great little camp site on the beach. Nice
little village but it now has Agnes Water nearby, which just seems like
suburbia. It’s hard to believe that we had never visited during our grotty
yachtie life as we spent two wet seasons in nearby Gladstone. Of course our
next overnighter was in Gladstone. The caravan park wouldn’t allow tents so we
took a cabin for one night and did everything we wanted to in one afternoon. So
much for our “go slow” approach for this trip. We went to dinner at the yacht
club, where we used to be members. Didn’t seem to have changed that much, but
we thought the meals were better in the old days (starting to sound like our
parents).
Next stop Mackay, would you
believe it, another caravan park that wouldn’t allow tents. I put up a case for
staying on the lovely flat green grass. We didn’t want power and the grass was
the best we had seen in ages. We were promptly told that the grass was nice and
green because they didn’t allow tents! Feeling like second class citizens, we
went in search of another caravan park!
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On the road to Finch Hatton Gorge, west of Mackay |
We
wanted to see the Victory motorcycles and as there was no dealer in Perth we
thought we could see them in Mackay. In 2009, after a weekend in Melbourne, we
organised to stay an extra day to go to Victory Motorcycles. Unfortunately they
were closed Mondays. The Mackay showroom was closed down and we assumed the
global financial crisis had struck again. It wasn’t until we had left Mackay
that we found out that they had merely moved premises.
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View from our Airlie Beach apartment |
Next was Airlie Beach. If
Mooloolaba is not the yachting mecca, then Airlie Beach is. We booked into a
caravan park with a TV room so that we could watch Australia’s opening game in
the football world cup in South Africa. Only problem was that the TV was on a
timer and switched off at ten pm. Of course, this was too early. Many of the campers
were European backpackers, all wanted to watch the football and all complained
at the office. No way were the rules to be bent. Like us, most got up and left
the caravan park. We asked if we could
take a cabin for one night but leave the tent up to move back into the next
day. There was plenty of room in the tent area so no one would be put out. They
said of course you can but wanted to charge us for a tent site and a cabin. As
luck would have it the global economic crises had affected hotel and apartment
bookings. We could get a lovely waterfront apartment with marina views, two
bathrooms, large balcony and a wide screen TV at less than half price. We
decided we were both getting tired and a week of luxury was what we needed. We
really enjoyed the football and the rest. We kept bumping into the angry mob of
backpackers in town but were careful not to tell them where we were staying,
didn’t need a crowd around for every game. |
Jane and Steve, Conway Beach |
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Base camp, Mission Beach |
After
Airlie Beach we continued to head up the coast. By the time we got to Cairns it
was school holidays. The caravan parks were packed with kids as well as gray
nomads and they were expensive. Once again the hotels were offering cheap
deals. We got a serviced twin room in the Golden Chain Motel for $45 per night.
An unpowered tent site was to cost close to $40 per night. A no brainer! We did
some great rides from Cairns up to Port Douglas, Mareeba and Kuranda. We caught
up with old friends and visited some of our favourite spots from our previous
visits to Cairns. We had spent a month in Cairns one year while repairing our
yachts diesel engine, which had blown a gasket and got seawater in the
cylinders. I also spent two weeks holed-up while Jane flew home one time. One
time we had also lifted the boat for her annual bottom scrub. So we know Cairns
fairly well. The town had grown since our last visit but still felt much the
same.
When time came to leave Cairns we
rode the Captain Cook Highway once again. It is often compared to the Great
Ocean Road in Victoria. On the cruisers we found it more enjoyable, curves
slightly more open, less traffic and higher speed limits. Don’t forget the
scenery, which is great on both roads.
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On the road to Cooktown |
Then we headed up the inside,
sealed, road to Cooktown. What a great road, breathtaking scenery, very few
vehicles and the couple of great passes through the ranges of hills keeps it
all interesting. Cooktown seemed to have stagnated since we were last there in
1993. We were continually asking ourselves how come nearly twenty years had passed
since we last visited far north Queensland. We walked up Mount Cook and were
glad we had walked not ridden. The track up the hill was in poor condition and
with major infrastructure work up the top, parking was limited on slippery,
sloping gravel. Despite the many signs warning no trailers, several four by
fours had their trailers in tow. They were complaining and insisting there were
no signs. I just muttered “if they can’t see those huge signs how are they ever
going to see a motorbike?” Apparently, a couple of days before our visit, a new
Harley was dropped while trying to descend from the lookout.
At
Cooktown we had to turn around and “head for home”. We had run out of black
stuff and didn’t like the idea of taking the cruisers on the gravel. Only about
10,000 km more and we would be home. The first stop on the way home was
Atherton. We had decided to stay a few days to enjoy all the tableland roads.
Only problem was we had consistent drizzle again. Every time we go near a
mountain it starts to rain. After a couple of days of riding in the drizzle, we
decided that we would go to the Coffee Works in Mareeba, where for the entry
cost you can have as much coffee and handmade chocolate as you can manage. I thought
this would be a good deal. At least it would be dry inside. Well half way
between Atherton and Mareeba it stopped raining. The local’s recon that happens
all the time, the vegetation would indicate that they know what they are taking
about. Next trip we will consider Mareeba instead of Atherton as a base. Rain
while biking and camping can get a bit tiresome.
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Townsville |
Next stop Townsville, for bike
servicing and new tyres. Of course, the shop was missing an oil filter (even
though we gave lots of notice) so we were delayed a couple of days. Decided to
leave on the Thursday but it was raining again. We remembered our “go slow”
plan and decided to stay for the weekend as the V8 supercars were in town for
the round the streets race. What a great weekend, no traffic issues, could park
the bikes right outside the track gate. We had good racing, got to see some
more old timers (INXS) doing their music, managed to pick up some bike
merchandising at the discount shop and Craig Lowndes was staying, with his
family, in his caravan, at the caravan park. He had a terrible race weekend, so
I guess next year he will be on his own, in the team hotel!
We then headed west through
Charters Towers into the dinosaur country around Hughenden and Richmond. There
is a great dinosaur museum at Richmond. First museum we had visited for a
while. For us, there had been too many visits to museums early in the trip.
Then continuing west we entered cowboy country. Cloncurry had a resident
country singer in the caravan park and the shops were all selling cowboy boots,
akubra’s and ammo. Jane fell in love with a pair of rhinestone pink heeled
boots which would be good for line dancing. Three small problems, Jane doesn’t
line dance, we couldn’t afford them and we had no space on the bikes. That’s
one of the great things about a bike trip; you can’t but lots of useless
souvenirs.
Next stop Mount Isa. The road
between Cloncurry and Mount Isa had some marvellous bends but also had a radar
speed trap. We had not visited Mount Isa before and lots of people told us they
had enjoyed it. To us it just seemed like an industrial town trying to make
some tourist traps out of nothing. Moving on, we got to the Queensland –
Northern Territory border. We had now ridden Jane’s Vstar and my Vulcan in all
states of Australia. From here we only had 447 kilometres and we could turn
left and head south.