It was Mark who wanted to ride the Moore to Blackbutt Rail Trail so late in the year. I wasn't so interested as I thought it a recipe for an unforgiving hot grind. Instead we had a brilliant ride full of surprises, some most unwelcome and potentially
deadly.
The Brisbane Valley was lush and the greenest I have seen it in a decade. Gum trees aside, you could think you were in NZ. The jacarandas held their shocking head of purple and the creeks were running. A colourful band of 11 riders set out from the park in
Moore just before 9am. The sign foretold of the 30Km ride to Blackbutt, but the start of the trail was obscured by grass. After a few hundred metres on the road it was back onto the trail which ran uphill and down dale. At one of the gates we suggested Dave take the lead given his mountain biking experience. He
fessed he had been quite happy at the back and it turned out maybe we should have left him there. Dave peddled on his merry way and soon had the lead pack riding across a creek. I was taking the action photos when the tail end charlies rocked up and
wondered what was going on. The track didn't go down there, it went up to where a sign asked for the gate to be closed. Saved by photography and being being unable to convince Dean to piggy back me across the creek I gleefully retreated to the grandstand view at the top of the hill with the others and watched with much mirth as we had a demo on how to ride across what was now a very muddy creek.
There were no cattle along corridor from Moore to Linville, the main traps on this part of the trail were ant mounds. Some of them were quite large and skittery, something Alan discovered while chatting on his phone. He managed a very quick thinking step off the back of the bike and walked his way out of trouble. At Linville the mud and stones emptied out of the shoes of the
lead peleton and the warm up was complete.
There has been a lot of work done on the trail. Beautiful sturdy bench seats are found at regular intervals from Moore to Linville. Impressive entrance gates mark the start and conclusion of the Linville to Blackbutt section which now has push open galvanised gates along the way, culverts with concrete pads over at the bottom of each creek crossing, a brand new loo about half way together with picnic areas under construction, hitching posts, horse pens, signs indicating distances, a grave and
memorial to people who died in the making of the rail corridor and in places a chain wire barrier.
Soon after leaving Linville the group split with me optimistically giving chase to Dave and Dean. Along the way a juvenile eastern brown covered in ants lay in the middle of the track. It looked like it had been squished in a couple of places. Gibbers that would have you a goner at speed lay in wait for the return journey. By the time we got to the old tin shed with the mango my legs were feeling the pace so I decided to take a pew
and wait for the others. Brian was next, he pulled up and kindly
shared his morning tea - a homemade Anzac biscuit which I was only too happy to munch before anyone else showed. Next were Peter and Jane, then Brian and Leonie followed by Allan, Paul and Mark as tail end charlies.
Paul was not having the most comfortable ride and felt like he
had a Blackbutt in the making. We puddled on up the hill at a pace which revealed the beauty of the flowers and the myriads of butterflies. Ephemeral clouds of a delicate blue, purple and pink haze dusted the edge of the trail and were studded by brilliant yellow straw daisies and dandelions. The colour combinations and the flowers themselves were exquisite. Lush growth overhanging the track made it look like a green glade, a world away from the dusty brown of the trail after a drought. The gidgee
wafted, bellbirds chimed while goannas basked. One goanna was most reluctant to move, maybe he had had enough of getting out of the way of cyclists. He held his ground right up until the last foot.
On the outskirts of Blackbutt Dave was heading our way all tooled up coming back to check out whether we had had a mechanical failure. No, just a butt failure, one which felt every bump on the hard granite path, paths which I found also give a nice graze as the bike slid out from under me. A spectacular meadow of golden
coreopsis and royal purple viburnum heralded the town Blackbutt. A mass of bikies had pulled into town while the rest of the group had had their lunch. Alison had been Dean's support crew and had carried some of the lunch gear and gave the option for some to take the sag wagon back. No way Paul was giving up his hard
earned downhill run - he was up for the return journey.
The return journey was a joy. A slight breeze, the warm afternoon
sun coming from behind, you would think that the biggest danger might be the unexpected gibber, stray cow or sloppy cow pat. No. That squished brown snake had been a portent reminder. It came down to unfortunate timing and good luck. As we cruised down the trail, there were parts where it was covered in long grass. I was on the left hand side of the trail and didn't even see the 5 foot
brown snake. I rode right in front of it and startled it while Mark a split moment later on the right hand side of the trail had no choice but to run over it. It did not take to this too kindly, reared up and struck in the direction of Mark. By this stage he
says he had his feet up around his ears and was concerned about going bush and canning off right in front of one very pissed off large brown snake. He managed to keep going. I am not sure I would have had the presence to swing my legs up, and even if I had, the stirrups would have held my feet in. By the time Paul
and Alan came through about 30 seconds later the snake had disappeared. It is worth knowing that only mobile phones on Next G worked in this area.
At Linville Paul and Alan decided to go back via the road. By now it was after 4pm, the skies were clear and the light was changing to a beautiful soft golden haze. We were shaded by the hillside and the return peddle to Moore was both cool and picturesque. It was a great day out, it was not too hot and made all the more beautiful by Springs flowers at their best.
|