I had never felt like I’d put myself in harms way more than standing in the middle of Wollemi National Park. I had begun my push through the wilderness area a little late and soggy trails, vicious gradients and seemingly as many trees across the track as standing next to it were all making for some pretty slow going. Sunset was fast approaching, the weather had started to look really unfriendly and I had an ankle that was gradually merging with my calf. I started mentally going through how much food and water I actually had while I considered the very real possibility of spending the night still deep in the wilderness…
Nearly four days earlier I would only be just leaving Mt Stromlo. Blue sunny skies and a typical brisk Canberra morning air were a welcome treat for the start of a trip that would take me some 780km’s from Canberra to Newcastle, a route that would take in some incredible sections of rural, remote and wilderness New South Wales country side. I had never attempted something of this magnitude before and while I had plotted and planned this trip for months, there was still a hint of naivety in what lay in front of me.
Planning and Preperation
I can’t say what exactly brought about the idea, nor why I had chosen Canberra or Newcastle as the end points. There were numerous advantages to both towns though: A race in Canberra in late August meant I was likely to get a lift down and regular train services meant getting home was probably not going to be an issue. Hear say and conjecture also had the possibility of plotting a route through almost entirely on dirt at strong odds. After many hours pouring over topo’s and google maps I finally found a route through.

Just a few maps for the trip. This was the cut down set
Mapping a route was in some ways seemed easy once I started calling land managers. Government agencies, including everything from the various National park offices through to the Livestock Health And Protection Agency (Necessary for some parts of the Bicentennial Trail) and Private Landholders a like were thankfully all incredibly helpful, but it would seem every phone call would result in yet another set of numbers to call. Still it was a necessary part of the pre-travel process, hopefully helping others to follow in my foot steps in the future and often (as was especially the case with Wollemi NP) highly valuable!

Pre Trip Shake out ride. Rather controlled set of circumstances but it seemed to go ok
While all that was going on, my attention to gear certainly wasn’t lacking. I had many a weekender under my belt, and for the purpose of heading out overnight most of the gear I had was adequate. With the mileage targets I had in mind and the areas I was passing through, it was time to take that gear to the next level. A new weight weenie streak had set in, looking at everything from sleeping bags to spoons. I’d also looked at how I was going to carry it all, ordering a couple of Revelate Designs bags (which unfortunately didn’t arrive in time) and toying with handlebar bag options in the hope of avoiding using a rack. Every bit of gear I took I considered carefully, packed, repacked, and reconsidered right up to the nights before my departure. I think my preparation on this front showed finishing the ride having used every piece of gear I took and never wishing I had brought something else (except my USB charger, but that’s another story ;)
And finally were my water, services and emergency plans. I was carrying a SPOT Satellite emergency and tracking beacon which somewhat forced me to prepare an emergency plan; looping in friends and family to my route, emergency procedures and possible extraction points. I’d also considered carefully where I would get water, services and shelter on and off route should things really not go to plan. I didn’t really need either in the end, and recent rains had meant water was never an issue but it certainly added to my level of confidence going into sections of unknown or sketchy services.
My own little Grand Depart…
Joe Ward was determined not to let me slip away quietly, announcing over the P.A. to the crowds as I rolled out of the Stromlo car park. They were there for the Chocolate Foot 8hr race, I was about to embark on something much bigger than that…

North of Gundaroo
The first two or three days were to be relatively straight forward. following the well documented and mapped Bicentennial trail from mount stromlo seemed simple enough, but the lasting results of the bushfires some 6 or 7 years earlier and the ongoing growth and construction on the outskirts of Canberra had me scratching my head repeatedly. Still, while a little slower than I expected, I was out on the open road soon enough, passing through Gundaroo on my way to Taralga, or would that be Crookwell? It proved to be a recurring theme but I had quickly realised I had underestimated or miscalculated the distance for my planned first day stop. 170km’s on the dial and just on dusk, I decided to avail myself of the services the Crookwell township would have to offer rather than push the 40km’s to Taralga in the dark.
Falling a little short of my target from the outset, I had hoped for an early pre-dawn start on day two help make up some lost time. It would be closer to 7am that I would finally roll out the door giving me just on 10 1/2 hours of daylight. The target today would be Lithgow, or at least as close as possible but with the extra distance and reduced daylight window of the late start this would probably prove to be a tough ask.

Quiet Dirt Roads were the main theme of days 1 & 2. Wouldn't last though
Some Crookwell Bakery treats and small re-supply in Taralga would set me on my way on a route that would take me through the back of Kangara Boyd national park, up over 1300m’s of vertical, past fields of snow muddy trails, the odd slightly dodgy re-route and finally Just shy of Jenolan Caves. Underestimating the terrain and more geographically embarrasing moments had wasted time though, amplified by my desire to stick to the Bicentennial trail rather as much as possible than simply trying to rejoin it when I got lost. It was getting late in the day but left with the decision of camping at Jenolan or heading north along the trail towards Hampton, I chose to press on. I was not prepared however for what lay ahead; Steep, loose, rocky and eroded, For the first time in over 300km’s I found myself walking up the hills of Jenolan state forest. It looked straight forward on the map but if nothing else it would show just how much could be hidden inside a contour. The light would start to fade by the time I started making good progress again but it wouldn’t last long before everything would seem to come undone.

Snow! Around Gingkin & Shooters Hill, these patches of snow were somewhat of a surprise
The trail notes said “Overgrown Single track, follow the tapes”, what it should have said was “random bash through thick bush, don’t bother”. There was a legal and a not so legal way and the bush bash was well, the legal way. Funnily enough the guide gave a great description of an alternate route through private property just 100m’s to the west as if pre-empting the inevitable. An hour later, beaten, scratched, and sporting a fresh ankle injury, I would finally give in, bash west, and rejoin the fire trail, covering barely 3 km’s. heading north in the dark was now also… inevitable. The route was relatively simple from here but the darkness added a fresh set of challenges as eroded descents became just that little more hairy. Low on water, tired, and just a little hungry, camp sites and trails alike would turn into marshlands as a slight air of desperation set in. Taking a punt, I left the Bicentennial trail and headed north up the highway to a picnic ground, barely 10km’s short of Hampton, in the hope of water, shelter, and toilets. Thankfully, the punt paid off…
Half Way…
I awoke to fresh frosts and a swollen ankle. Some 340km’s had been ridden so far and I was just short of half way, but fresh doubt had set in. Lithgow was only 30km’s away with a chance to resupply and asses my ankle. It also gave me a chance to pop into Insane Cycles to say hello to Flynny! Rolling past the wind turbines and through fields of Hampton I would make the decission to keep the day short, to roll as far as the famed Glen Davis camp ground, to a hot shower and a good rest.

Warmed up to Very low single digit temps for the morning of day 3
Even with McDonalds for breakfast I would roll into lithgow tired and hungry. I had hoped to be here the night before to waste little daylight time with the resupply but it wasn’t to be. With an addled brain, somehow a quick shop would drag out to well over 2 hours. Next time I will make a list as I roll in rather than relying on my own memory but you live and learn. A bag full of food, fresh batteries and more anti inflamatries for my ankle and I would continue my trip north. Stupidly, I did not take the opportunity to recharge any of my electronics though…

Black Fellows hands....
The climb up the State Mine trail was slow and sticky, but ferns and rock overhangs would accompany me all the way up making it a pleasant climb, opening up to spectacular views of the wolgan valley at the top. A seemingly quick trip through Newnes state forest would have me descending black fellows hands fire trail; a rocky techy fire trail descent that had me grinning from ear to ear. Half way down the trail opened up to the oasis that I can only assume was Black Fellows. Gigantic fern and moss lined rock structures jutting out into a small clearing left me in awe but conscious I still had quite a trip to go, I took a handful of photos before leaving, resound to go there again.
Crossing the floor of Wolgan valley, I found myself once again off the bike as I walked up the other side. Four wheel drives and trail bikes had seemingly ripped the trail up, making it virtually unrideable but it was relatively short, and opened up at to fast and flat trails across the valley rim. The trail skirted along the cliff edge, occasionally opening up to a small clearing giving you spectacular views up and down the Valley. An equally spectacular descent down through Baal Bone gap would drop me into more fern and forest lined trails before spitting me out at the Crown Creek fire trail for possibly the most hectic fire trail descent I’ve ever done. Virtually stopping on each water bar was possibly the only way to control the bike; touching the rear brake on the loose steep descent would only see rear end swing out like a pendulum. None the less, the descent was fun and left me with yet more incredible natural Australian bush to ride through.
 The day...
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Finally leaving Gardens of Stone national park, I would waste a little time trying to find the trail amongst a series of similar farm gates and confusing cues but a late afternoon sun spreading warm colors across the capertee valley would leave me feeling seriously contented with the day as a tail wind kicked me down the last of the trail into Glen Davis. Three awesome descents, some incredible scenery, an early day, food and a hot shower; if I’d ended the trip right there I would have been a happy man.
Wollemi…

The climb up to Grassy Mountain was tough, but pretty...
Despite the best of intentions, I hadn’t managed to get away out of Glen Davis as early as I’d hoped. I knew I had a long day and wanted to take advantage of the cooler morning to keep my hydration needs in check. Still, it was barely 5 degrees as I rolled out towards Glen Alice. A quick bathroom break and I was heading north again for the climb up to Grassy Mountain.
Grassy mountain was on the other side of a couple of private properties, and after a quick chat with the owners, I was on my way up the 4-500m climb to the top. My ankle had settled down somewhat through the night giving me confidence to push on, but the 30+% gradients weren’t doing it any good at all. More fern & forest lined trail was the only saving grace for what was mostly, a walk up a cliff face. Stiff, Cold breezes would be the first signs I was reaching the top, opening up to yet more truly incredible views up the Capertee Valley

The View was worth it though. Looking south down Capertee Valley
Proving yet again how much terrain can be hidden in a contour, the ride from here was well, lumpy but soon joined Army road for a faster run through (dare I say it) Fern and native bush lined trails. Some contemplation how I would cross the rather tall final gate only to realise it wasn’t locked and I was turning east towards Wollemi National Park.
It had taken me much longer to get here than I anticipated. Combined with a late start, my swollen ankle, and less food stores than I would have liked, I hesitated about continuing on, considering a trip to Rylstone/Kandos to resupply instead. It would only be 40 or so Km’s across the park though and with it just before lunch time, I pushed on. I really hadn’t anticipated what lay ahead!

Welcome to the wilderness! Mud included...
Starting with another 4-500m climb, my first challenge was navigation. Having only a 1:100k map of the area, I was left often wondering what were new trails, old trails, and just plain unmapped trails. That being said, I used a full compliment of skills to find my first turn only to discover it sign posted. The climbs, often steep and at other times, just plain loose or covered in tree fall, often had me off the bike, each time aggravating my ankle just a little more. The descents were not much better but at least gave me a little respite as I navigated the trees. As I got further and further in, it was clear my progress was much slower than I had expected and it looked like the weather was starting to close in. Constantly second guessing my dead reckoning, I began contemplating the concept of spending the night in the wilderness, or worse, looking for extraction. Now well entrenched I had started to panic a little as I ran through what food and water I actually had left (not that much given I had at least another day to Laguna).
I’m not sure why it hadn’t occurred to me earlier, but left with a feeling I’d finally missed a turn, I stopped and grabbed a GPS fix with my phone only to discover I had not only missed the turn (and still don’t remember it!) but was completely off the map! I was at least on the right trail and would only have a few km’s to go before the national parks gate and well freedom :) The Eastern side of the park was a little drier, had less tree fall and was generally faster going though with every stick I crossed, the words “watch for snakes” many had left to me rang in my ears. Confidence was restoring but the last remnants of day light were failing and i was still some 2 hours from my campsite for the night. It was though a welcome site to see the National Parks gate and my turn at the Three ways Junction.
Again, with only 1:100k maps for the area, I wasn’t entirely confident in my dead reckoning. You were never sure if that trail you passed was the one on the map, or something entirely different. Night fall added the new challenge of darkness and wildlife but the pace was at least high as I skirted along the ridge line. Detail lost in the map vs the realities of the trail added constant confusion and I would stop once more to get a GPS fix only to discover I was still making good trail. My fears of missing a turn were abated with a sign post, and a 2nd to sheepskin trail, almost exactly on my dead reckoning. The site of The Sheep Skin Hut campground, complete with hut, toilet and most importantly Tank water, brought a definite sigh of relief for what turned out to be a long day. Dinner was rationed as I broke out my emergency calories in preperation for the next day…
(to be continued)