A new year and things are finally looking up. I promise not to use the C-word again. This is a tour through from the city to the towns that grew up out of one of the world’s greatest 19th century gold rushes.
Saturday 9 January, 2021: Melbourne · Riddell’s Creek |86 km|
[Hot – 34°C – and with a blistering wind from the NW. I was heading NW!].
Probably not having learned much from the mistakes of my last aborted expedition east of Melbourne, I blamed it all on the hills in that direction and decided to go north and west instead into gentler terrain. The plan was to tour around the historic gold fields region between Castlemaine and Stawell, then head further out west to the Grampians mountain range and return to Melbourne via the coast. And for a change, I did manage to do it.
First, it was bike path for virtually all of the 40 kilometres from my home in inner-city Abbotsford to the outer northern Melbourne suburb of Craigieburn. The ‘Main Yarra’ and ‘Merri Creek’ Trails that took me the first 20 km as far as the M80 Metropolitan Ring Road are both safe and interesting, and well worth a ride any day.
Then after a short 2.5 km stretch of bikeway alongside the M80 heading east, I was able to cross the freeway on a cycle overpass and get onto the Galada – Tamboore Pathway heading back west and swinging north-west for the remaining 18 km into Craigieburn. This pathway is quite safe and easy to follow, but it is also quite boring as it parallels the M31 freeway and then passes through barren rolling hills. This stretch of countryside is definitely “development-ready”, and the massive housing projects in construction spreading out from Craigieburn central are chasing the Land for Sale signs marching south back towards Melbourne. A better option for a more interesting track to Craigieburn would be via the ‘Moonie Ponds Creek’ and ‘Broad Meadows Creek’ Trails, but I didn’t know that at the time (and they’re also easier to get lost on).
After Craigieburn, where I stopped at the Esso service station for a snack and a cold drink but found no respite from the heat, the 38 km route on to Riddell’s Creek was slightly more complicated. I took the narrow and busy Ridley’s Road but then erred in assuming my phone GPS was correct in routing me directly onto Konagaderra Road, but the short gully hop in between wasn’t passable, not for me anyway. A proper MTB or a more intrepid rider on a touring bike would have had no problem).
I had to backtrack onto Parkland Crescent/ Bardwell Drive to go around the gully. Shortly after, I was briefly on the C325 main road heading north and then branched off left onto the dirt track that is Settlement Road at Clarkefield (just a named locality – there’s nothing there), that became Websters Road and then Sutherlands Road. Doing this I avoided the traffic and snuck into the township of Riddell’s Creek via the ‘back way’.
I’d done enough riding for one day by now and was looking for a free camp in or near town. I bought a few provisions from the Foodworks supermarket and talked to a couple of locals who suggested that the Scout Camp at Treetops might be a good option, though they also cautioned it might not be open yet after the COVID closure (jeez, damn it! I’ve used the C-word already!).
I went out to the Scout Camp anyway (it’s 3 km out of town, and I was using up all the valuable remaining dregs of power in the batteries to get there). It’s a big, largely unimproved bush camp opposite the cemetery on a hillside overlooking town. There were a few guests but not many and we were all spread out. Indeed, the resident ranger who administers the site seemed a bit peeved that I’d interrupted his Saturday siesta for such a trifling reason as a booking. Still, he condescended to take my money ($20, card only) and to direct me to a pitch well away from everybody else. The facilities were very primitive and I didn’t use them, but was able to recharge the bike batteries on mains power at a truly grotty BBQ shelter not too far away.
Sunday 10 January, 2021. Riddell’s Creek · Daylesford |84 km|
[Another hot (28°C) and thirsty day. At least the wind, at 20 km/h, was from the south and therefore partly behind me. A mixture of quiet country roads, steep and rutted fire trail, busy main road and rail trail].
I gulped down a 500ml bottle of OJ from the Russell’s Creek Foodworks (call it breakfast) and set off on the 43 km ride to Macedon township via quiet country roads.
Strange place, Macedon – the cemetery is right in the middle of town! There, I had a sit-down and a lovely chicken schnitzel sandwich at the Lazy Baker café and chatted to a young family of cycling enthusiasts at the next table.
They told me about a swimming hole right near town. I figured I could do with a swim so I decided to check it out, but I didn’t like the look of the opaque brown water or the silty and reedy water’s edge so I didn’t bother with the swim and decided to move on. It turns out though that my daughter and her family were at that same water hole on the same day and at approximately the same time of day. Unbeknown to me, they were in the area visiting some tree-changer friends who’d moved to Mount Macedon. We didn’t cross paths on this occasion.
The next 15 km from Macedon towards Woodend were arduous on the steep and deeply rutted Middle Creek fire trail. There was no guarantee I’d get through or even be able to get back up some of the steep ravines. The one party of two on horseback that I encountered weren’t much help either with reassurances but I soldiered on anyway and eventually popped out onto a more passable dirt road that lead into the touristic village of Woodend. I’d been there before – about a year ago I caught a train from Melbourne to Woodend and set off on a day’s bike ride to Lyonville and back that I liked – so I went the same way again today.
It is a busy road all the way to Trentham, but then you get onto the 12 km-long ‘Domino Trail’ to Lyonville. Both Trentham and Lyonville are pretty little heritage villages and well worth the visit. Somewhere along that trail though I lost my fancy ‘Cycliq Fly6’ rear camera light that was attached to the trailer. I suspect it bounced off when rode over a particular fallen log at one point, but by the time I noticed it missing (not until Daylesford) it was waaaay too late to go back and look for it.
On the C317 road just before my destination of the Daylesford Holiday Park caravan park at Jubilee Lake that is a couple of kilometres south of Daylesford, my phone GPS routed me directly to the park that was just across the other side of a gully. But like yesterday, this gully was also impassible and I had to detour the long way round, up to the top of the biggest hill in those parts and then back down through the township to get there. So once again I was very fatigued by the end of the day’s ride and the bike batteries were down to zero.
Jubilee Lake is a popular swimming spot for locals and on this hot Sunday afternoon it was crowded. The small beach at the edge of the caravan park was teeming with day-trippers, including large family groups of Indian, Chinese and Middle Eastern immigrants. Nice to see people out enjoying themselves! I quickly paid my $33 for a non-powered pitch (and was told to ‘camp anywhere’), put my bike batteries onto charge in the meagre camp kitchen and promptly hit the water to cool down. It was a trifle unsettling though because of the sudden drop-off a few metres out into the lake, which is actually a man-made reservoir built in the early days of the gold rush.
What concerned me mostly were the non-swimmer parents blowing up flimsy floaties for their non-swimmer little kids to play on, because the kiddies were continually drifting off into deeper water. Me and three dinkum middle-aged Aussi women (I’m just going by their accents) acquired lifeguard status as, without even consciously thinking about it, we formed a perimeter and treaded water just off the beach, gently herding straying infants back into the arms of their flailing parents. I didn’t stay too long – it looked like a disaster waiting to happen (but I don’t think anybody drowned).
My pitch at Lake Jubilee Park, Daylesford
Monday 11 January, 2021. Daylesford · Castlemaine |60 km|
[Another hot and tiresome ride. Mostly downhill, but with a steady 35km/h head wind from the NNW, and up to 35°C]
I stopped many times for a rest and a drink on the ride today. Daylesford is a real yuppie town, meaning it’s become fashionable for middle class young people with well-paying jobs. I had a not-so-cheap bacon and egg sandwich there for breakfast. Hepburn is even yuppier, with a string of upmarket tea-room type fashionable eateries, but it’s only 8km past Daylesford and so I just powered right on through.
But by the 22-km mark for the day I did need a rest and so I propped myself up on the end-terminal plate of an armour-guard crash rail near a non-descript locality called Franklinford, sipping icy cold water from my trusty ‘Klean Kanteen’ and having a kip for a good 15 minutes. By the way, these INGAL-brand crash barriers seem to have a near-monopoly in Victoria, and you see them everywhere.
Newstead is a quaint little backwater of a village with an authentic rustic feel to it. I got an ice cream and a Gatorade there in the General Store, the only business in town, and chatted to a local in the shade of the veranda while eating and drinking my refreshments. He seemed a bit of a wag, squatting in an abandoned building while doing up a heritage cottage that isn’t supposed to be altered in any way without planning permission, and was keen to talk about both my and his own cycle touring exploits.
It was hard getting back on that bike in Newstead and by the time I limped into Castlemaine at 1.30pm feeling very tired and with no willpower to continue any further, I decided to call it a day after only 60km ridden. I was at the end of my tether, as they say.
I stayed overnight on a joyless barren cinder pitch in the Big4 Caravan Park. This was a complete rip-off at $56. I even had to pay an extra $4 to have a swim in the municipal swimming pool right next door. The caravan park owner apparently had a disagreement with the council, who then withdrew free pool privileges for the park’s clientele. I’m not surprised – I found her (the caravan park owner) to be pretty stroppy myself! But on the positive side regarding Castlemaine, the steak sandwich I got for dinner from the Blue Sea Fish Shop in the main commercial precinct (at No.91 Mostyn Street) goes down as the first genuine 10-out-of-10 steak ‘sanga’ I’ve had for quality, size and value.
Tuesday 12 January, 2021. Castlemaine · Maryborough |75 km|
[Cooler today (only 24°C max); clear but windy, and mostly head winds at that].
Feeling much better today!
Heading out of Castlemaine, it took me quite a while to find it (after getting mis-information from various locals), but eventually I did manage to get onto first the Campbell’s Creek Trail and then, after 5km, the Maldon Rail Trail. This is where I wanted to be, heading west in the general direction of the Grampian Ranges. The trail is unmaintained but is reasonably good quality fine compacted dirt suitable for easy riding.
I encountered only one other person on the trail, at about the halfway point that is Muckleford station. He was a rather chubby local out for some walking exercise. He looked in bad shape to me, but insisted he was OK and that he had only 2.5km to go to walk back home, so I reluctantly left him to it. He was talking to someone on his mobile, so I guess in a pinch they would have come to rescue him.
The Castlemaine – Maldon Rail Trail. Typical scene
Maldon is a delightful and picturesque little “artists’ and writers’ retreat” with about 1,000 inhabitants that, judging from the well-preserved 1850s architecture, had it’s fair share of heydays during the Victorian goldrush when the population peaked at more than 10,000.
I stopped for the habitual soft drink and snack in Maldon, and then continued west on the quiet Baringhup Road to Carisbrook and hence on to Maryborough. All easy-going through sparse open wheat and cattle country, but I don’t even remember much about the ride to be honest.
The last 8 km into Maryborough was on the busier B180 road. It’s quite a big place, population 8,000, and had a big-city feel to it as I navigated in to the Maryborough Caravan Park near the centre of town.
My pitch ($37, unpowered) was adjacent to the well-equipped kitchen/ ablutions and laundry. I’d arrived early enough (about 3pm) that I could do some laundry by hand and hang it out to dry before dusk. Dinner, or at least the provisions for it, was foraged a short ride away at the impressive Woolworths supermarket and I skulked back to the camp kitchen for an early meal and then early to bed. Not much happening on a Tuesday evening in Maryborough!
– ends –
Saturday 9th to Tuesday 12th January, 2021. Melbourne to Maryborough, 305 km