How can you not love "hell"?

I decided on Sunday to take a group of friends up to Hell's Hole in Mt Jerusalem National Park. Oddly, I hadn't been there for nine months, despite promising myself I was going to make some wet season visits last summer. Still, there was a small amount of moisture around on Sunday morning in the form of drizzle. It didn't quite make up for it, but it certainly made for an interesting day. I started off by riding out in the dark, something that's become a rather enjoyable habit on the last two weekends, before beholding a beautiful sunrise high on Tomewin in the Macpherson ranges.

This was followed by a ride through the seemingly obligatory mist that collects in the narrow valley at the foot of Mt Warning whenever I ride to Hell's Hole. Just why this should be so I have no idea, but the drop in temperature was at least enough to justify the decision to bring the warm jacket, even if it didn't get a huge amount of use through the day. Still, the mist shrouded mountains, when visible, were a treat, especially on the long climb to the National Park where Mt Warning becomes visible in all it's glory.

The final climb on Middle Ridge road is mind buggeringly steep, steep enough to slow the cars of everyone else down to the same speed as my bike, but yet it didn't seem to be as steep as I remember it, and I negotiated it without too many problems. We set off on the usual downward walk to the creek, before picking our way through the creekside "track" and finally clambering over the rocks to the hole. Today the rock hopping was rather "interesting", with the moisture making things very slippery at times, but the waterfalls and rockpools make all the effort worthwhile.



















Mt Jerusalem National Park also has some of the smallest leeches in the world. They can be a problem because you don't always realise you've been bitten. I subsequently discovered another three leech bites after the event that I didn't even feel when they happened. Oh well, that's part of life. I managed to replenish any lost nutrients at the Uki Cafe after the event, and after the seemingly obligatory flat tyre that happens every time I take my MTB out.

Still, it wasn't an insurmountable obstacle, and I was able to enjoy the ride home over Urliup and Bilambil as was once normal. I've been relatively quiet recently with a calf injury that wouldn't go away, and time spent watching the World Cup (Spain will beat The Netherlands 1-0 in the final BTW), but this was a day that was well and truly worth the effort.

Wanganui Gorge

A couple of weeks ago I quietly got back on the bike after the hit and run assault from a little while ago. However, there hasn't been much that has inspired me to write a post until last weekend. On Sunday I finally decided to man up and do 207km down to Wanganui Gorge (behind Mullumbimby) and back. The plan was simple enough, but I still wasn't sure about my fitness. I figured I would find out today, and that whatever happened, the surroundings within the Gorge would make it a worthwhile exercise.



Martin joined me for the first 78km or so down to Mullumbimby along the Tweed Coast. This part of the ride was surprisingly uneventful. On what was the first cool morning of the year, I searched for some full-finger gloves before setting out, but as we spend the early part of the ride 'coasting', they really weren't necessary. The most exciting part of this stretch was finding a dirt track that follows the road on the ocean side for a few hundred metres through the salt bush about half way between Pottsville and Wooyung. I'm still not sure what that was supposed to prove. Mullumbimby itself was awash with boats for some canoeing event. I'm guessing they were going to paddle along the Brunswick River to Brunswick Heads, a few kilometres downstream. Maybe I should have asked someone what was going on.







The real part of the ride started at the top of the Wilsons Creek climb, where I entered another world. The stream that follows the road is actually the Wilsons River, not Wilsons Creek, but I guess not everyone was aware of that name change. This world is one of lush green rainforests, mountain views, a few hippie cottages and a laid back vibe. Every time I come here I resolve to visit more often, but the distance from home (along with the proliferation of other places to ride) keeps me away for longer than I would like. It was also nice that the council decided to fill in some of the potholes around here, but today I had other things on my mind.



I turned south and joined the dirt at the Huonville fork (yes, I've just named it), and entered a deep gorge, with mountains closing in on either side, and the occasional waterfall cascading down the sides of the gorge. The stream bubbling away below me is actually Coopers Creek, which continues south and can be rejoined from the bottom of Minyon Falls on the other side of the Nightcap Range. Today I was taking it slow through this stretch, partly a result of being out of condition, and partly in wonderment at the things I was seeing. There is a hidden campsite at the end of this road, which I may explore one day, and there was once a walking track through the forest, but that has since been closed.



I turned and headed for home, first climbing out of the gorge before descending back to Mullumbimby. Today I would face yet another northerly wind on the way home, once again in total defiance of the prevailing wind direction for this time of year. This is becoming an unwelcome habit. It was after leaving Mullumbimby that the difficulty started. I had planned to climb over Mt Jerusalem National Park on the ride home, but first I had to get there against the wind, and somehow conserve enough energy for the climb. I managed the first part of that equation, but struggled on the climb like never before (and hopefully never again).

The good news was that at the bottom of this climb I could easily reach the village of Uki, where I gorged on sweet things to replenish some energy stocks for the last 55km. I still had to climb over Tomewin on the way home, but now I had replenished my energy and had realised the need to pace myself over the last quarter of the ride. Consequently, Tomewin posed few problems -- except that the temperature had dropped to 13 degrees C at the summit. I was glad I had brought the jacket for the descent home, to end yet another memorable day. It's clear that my fitness still needs some work, but that is slowly returning.