Big Al ...action man

Biking to Sale

To Sale without a paddle – 5 days on a bike in South Gippsland
by Alan Munyard April 2005

It was that time again, when Robyn is off to respite care for two weeks and I could please myself as to what I should do. I had had a couple of ideas running around my head for some time, and of course they include the bike. But in the end it was a ride through South Gippsland that got the nod. This ride is described in Lonely Planet Guide “Cycling Australia” as the first section of the East Coast Ride – Melbourne to the Gold coast in 28 Days. The only difference being I was starting from Torquay, not Melbourne. The general idea was that I would ride as far as I could for five days, and then get the train back home. Starting from Torquay is a defininite advantage, no city limits to try and escape before you feel that you are on your way, instead you cycle around the corner from home and you are on quiet back roads which is great.

I dug the trailer out of the garage and commenced throwing things into it about a week before I was due to depart, including a new tent. My previous $79 two man dome tent had done good service, but on a couple of occasions it had appeared close to collapse in strong winds, which had led to sleepless nights. There was also some rides undertaken with bags of sand added to the trailer to try and build up some level of fitness before the ride, but on previous rides I have found that your fitness does improve as you go. I gave the bike a service and replaced a rear tyre that had probably done better that 5000km.

The day finally arrived and the weather was looking a little suss. Day one was to be a ride from Torquay to Stony Point on the shores of Western Port Bay. First I had to ride to Queenscliff to catch the ferry to Sorrento, before continuing to Dromana and turning inland to cross the Mornington Peninsular. I left home at 8.30am and caught the 12 o’clock ferry. We had an escort of approximately 8 –10 dolphins on the way. There have been enough superlatives written about these wonderful creatures without me adding to it, but they do seem to enjoy themselves, and give much joy to those watching.
Up to this point the ride was going okay, but I was very worried about the section between Dromana and Stony Point. I had looked at several maps and also some aerial photos, which seemed to show a ridge of hills along the central spine of the peninsular. As it turned out this was correct, but it wasn’t as bad as feared. The road narrowed at one point and I did have to walk up one section that was a little steep for my aging legs, but it was also very beautiful. Further on there were some undulations, but the road had widened out so I was able to keep going. I had never been to this part of the Mornington Peninsular before and I was surprised at the denseness of the surrounding bushland. I arrived at Stony Point at 4.15 after travelling 91.3kms, not bad for the first day and into a head wind!

Camp at Stony Point,
Homo House on the left.
The wind at this time was really getting very strong and gusty, and I was very glad that I had a new tent that was going to stand up to it. I had booked a tent site at the Stony Point caravan park that turned out to be a haven for retired caravans and just as old boats. I am sure some of them haven’t been moved in twenty years. However, I got a nice grassy tent site between two caravans so was sheltered fairly well from the wind. The wind continued to increase in strength throughout the night, and screamed through the nearby trees.

Day 2 dawned bright and clear, with the wind now abating to moderate 15 – 20km gusts. I packed up early ready to catch the 8.30am ferry to Phillip Island. On leaving the caravan park I noticed a sign in the window of the caravan next to where I had been camping. It said “Homo House”! I was glad there was no one at home!! The ferry left promptly at 8.30, and besides myself there were about a dozen workmen who had to be dropped off at French Island. While I was engrossed in reading my map for the next part of the ride, I couldn’t help over hearing strains of conversation among the workmen. The names “Gogo Girl” and “Koala Chick” seemed to feature fairly regularly in their conversation. I have no idea who these girls were, but they seemed to have the interest of quite a few men!

Arrived at Phillip Island about 9.10am and found a spot for breakfast. After breakfast I headed across the island to another island just a short distance from Phillip Island. This was Churchill Island. In 1802 James Grant settled on Churchill Island, planted crops and built a small cottage. The site was later abandoned, but was the site of Victorias first farm. I particularly wanted to visit here to see the stand of very rare Moonah trees. These trees are reputed to between 400 & 500 years old. There is a bike path around the island, as well as several short walks and historic buildings.

Ancient Moona Trees
Churchill Island.
I left Phillip Island by riding across the Narrows Bridge to San Remo. San Remo is the gateway to Phillip Island when coming from Melbourne. In 1940 there was a suspension bridge built to link Phillip Island with the mainland. Before that visitors had to rely on several ferries to access the island. A new concrete bridge was open in 1969. I had a great lunch and coffee here, looking back to where I had just come from. After lunch I took the Bass Highway to Anderson, and the turn off to Wonthaggi. There is moderate climb for 4.6kms after leaving San Remo. At Anderson there is a Rail Trail that goes to Wonthaggi and this appealed to me because I knew the gradients would be okay. The first part was okay, but got fairly rough further on, and I was still peddling into a head wind. After being on the trail for approximately 3kms I finally topped out on the ridge, and I must say the view down the Bass coast to Cape Liptrap was spectacular. At Kilcunda there is a trestle bridge, which was part of the railway line when trains used to run here. I can only marvel at the skills necessary to built such a bridge with basic raw materials. It was worth a few photos.

Trestle Bridge
at Kilcunda.
Getting towards Wonthaggi things began to flatten out a bit, and it becomes very open country with not much shelter from the head wind, which was still punishing me. At 4.15pm I finally rode into Wonthaggi, and was it was a welcome respite. I found a bakery that was just about to close, but I convinced the lady behind the counter that I was desperate for a coffee and cake and so she relented. Inverloch was my intended destination for the day and still 12kms away. I was feeling a bit sore in the legs, but pushed on hoping that the way ahead won’t be to too hard. I finally arrived at Inverloch at 5.30pm and booked a tent site at a great Holiday Camp. Distance for the day was 68.1kms. When I booked the tent site I asked if there was somewhere a bit out of the wind. They gave me the okay to put the tent at the rear of some cabins which would provide some cover. This sounded great, and on arriving at the site discovered that there was actually no one in the cabins, and more shelter would be provided between the side of the cabin and the boundary fence on much flatter and greener grass. Had a great nights sleep after a lovely Chinese meal. Inverlock seems a great small town and I promised myself I would come back for a closer look.

My day 3 destination was Foster, 78kms away. I was packing up my tent when a strange (peculiar?) thing happened. As I was packing up I happen to be standing up putting some things into a stuff sack and at the same time looking out towards the centre of the property and noticed a man walking across my line of vision towards the main entrance. He had walked a few metres in this direction, and was turning his head from side to side as if to survey the area around him as he went. His gaze then turned towards me, and on seeing me stood stock still, and he proceeded to stare directly at me. I returned the stare. My reasoning being that what was good for the goose is good for the gander. After about a minute of this he broke off the stare and walked away in the opposite direction. I continued to pack up. About 5 –7 minutes later I happened to look up again in the same direction, and to my surprise here was Frank (not his real name, but he must be closely related to Frankenstein) bearing down on me at a great rate of knots! He duly fronted me and asked “I did I camp here last night”. This I thought would have been fairly obvious as the tent was still in position, so what was his point. I replied “yes”. For this I got a stern lecture on the invasion of tenant’s privacy had there been anyone staying in the cabin, which of cause there wasn’t. I explained that the staff in the office had directed me here, but it made no difference the lecture continued. I said I was sorry; I was leaving and would in fact be gone in 10 minutes at which point he left. I hope it made him feel better, having put some bike cruising git in his proper place. Thanks Frank, I enjoyed the place anyway, I am so sorry your hormones are in a state of unbalance. Please go and smell the roses you will feel much better.

The route to Foster was via Tarwin Lower, Walkerville and Fish Creek, with a moderate climb over the Hoddle Range. I left Inverloch at 9.15am and straight away the wind again was evident. This was starting to get me down. This wind from the east and southeast was quite unseasonable. I planned to ride in this direction because the weather is predominately from the west, and should be behind me. Consequently it seemed to take ages to reach Tarwin Lower. The next section to Walkerville was even harder with a climb to the top of the Hoddle Range. I eventually reached the turn off to Walkerville but the Planet Book says it was a steep 2km back out to the main road so I gave it a miss. At the turn off there was a change in direction. I was now travelling north, with wind not behind me, but it wasn’t in front either. The effect was immediate. I was zipping along at speed and feeling much better. I had only gone a short distance when I saw a huge tiger snake on the side of the road. It was actually on the crossing into the driveway of a house. This was the third snake I had seen on this trip, fortunately all were dead. I am still trying to work out my exit strategy if one should confront me on the road. I guess the best plan would be to put as much distance between me and “it” in as short a time as possible. Snakes have done nothing for me since I was about 10 years old, but that is another story.

Since I didn’t stop at Walkerville I had to have a roadside stop for lunch. This I did at a cattle-loading yard, just a short distance off the road. I was a bit short on water, but managed to cook up some 2-minute noodles, but had to forgo a cup of tea. The ride now was much improved with occasional glimpses across Waratah Bay to the South and Wilsons Promontory. The sun even came out, so my mood was definitely improving. The 23kms to Fish Creek was very pleasant, and didn’t take long at all before I was enjoying coffee and cake at the Fish Creek roadhouse. The Planet Guide said there was a 6 kms moderate climb past Mt Hoddle, which didn’t thrill me at all. As I was leaving the roadhouse there was a brochure stuck on the window that caught my eye. It was all about the Leongatha to Foster Rail Trail, and it goes via Fish Creek. In fact the Trail was no more that 50 metres from where I was standing. It took no time at all before I had found it and was flying along on a beautifully compact sand surface, and no traffic to worry about. It was a real bonus and definitely the way to go.

Rail Trail Fish Creek to Foster.
Things were definitely looking up, then I saw it. The warning sign; “Beware of snakes”!! I stopped to read it. The notice said the probability of meeting a snake on the trail was high, but no attempt should be made to remove the snake or kill it. Well I had already worked that one out, they would have no trouble from me. There were also some further directions, but these mainly related to dog owners and small children. It was late afternoon, and the trail was about 2.5metres wide. I figured if I stuck to the centre I should be okay and rode on. I arrived in Foster at 4.30pm and got a site at the local caravan park. The lady who booked me in said that I should have a “nice quiet night”. I wasn’t too sure about this, because since my arrival there were several dogs (heard but not seen) in the Department of Housing residences opposite the caravan park that had been continually barking. Had a reasonable meal at the local pub and returned to hear the dogs still at it. About 9 0’clock this was added to by hoons and petrol heads tearing up and down the road. You could tell it was the same cars all the time by the exhausts. And it wasn’t that they had no where to go, it was just that they no sooner got to where they were going, and they were back again! I must admit it was a full moon night, and this probably didn’t help as far as the dogs go. They seemed to take it in turns to bay at the moon, and this went on for hours. I never once heard any one telling them to be quite or shut up, which makes you think the owners didn’t care, were used to it and so ignored it, or perhaps were out baying at the moon along with their dogs! But then I guess “a nice quite night” is a relative term. Perhaps if you had lived next to a stone crushing quarry all you life then this would be a quiet night!


Looking towards Wilsons Prom
Day 4 started with an in-house breakfast followed by a quite and gentle ride to the little town of Toora. This was a diversion from the main highway so was very pleasant. On arriving at Toora I looked out for a place to enjoy a morning coffee. I rode up to what I thought was to the end of the main shopping area and could only see one possibility, a take-away pizza place. There was another Edwardian type building much further along, but I dismissed this as being of no consequence. So it was back to the pizza shop. On entering the shop I was confronted with a mismatch of counters and shelving that was in no particular order. The owner emerged from the rear of the store, and asked what I wanted. He was a man perhaps in his late sixties or early seventies, and I don’t think he had a tooth in his head. When I asked could I get a coffee, he said “yes”, but he would have to put the jug on! And could I have a cake with that? He replied “No cake, but would a pasty do?” So I settled for what I could get. I took a seat, and after a while he brought over the coffee and pasty and we started chatting. He told me he was born in Tora, and his parents had been farmers in the district. I think from his appearance they may have been Italian, but that’s only a guess. In all the years he has been at Tora he told me he has only been away perhaps 3 or 4 times. Once to Sydney for a day, and a couple of times to Melbourne. I could only wonder at what keeps a man in a small country town like Tora, with no apparent interest to see or visit other places. He seemed happy in what he was doing, and perhaps that is all that matters. The coffee and pasty done with, I was riding to the end of the street to connect with the South Gippsland Highway when I passed the Edwardian building I had seen earlier, and to my utter amazement at one end of it there was the most fantastic restaurant! From the blackboard specials that read as I rode passed I could have had anything that I desired. Skinny cappuccino and cake would have most certainly been available, and I felt I had been short changed for not checking properly. The route from here in the Planet Guide goes via the Silcocks Hill Road, and the Grand Ridge Road to Balook. This is 65kms of up hill and dirt roads, and I wasn’t sure I could cope with this. I consulted my map and saw and alternate route through Yarram to Sale were the Planet Guide also goes. So I continued on the South Gippsland Highway and arrived in Yarram at 1.15pm after riding 55.8kms. The road was a little narrow in places but got better the further I went, and was only slightly undulating. This was the last working day before Easter, and when I enquired at the caravan park for a tent site I was told that they were booked out, but if I stay only one night they could squeeze me in. It was still early in the afternoon, so I went and had lunch and a good look around. I went to the Information Centre to ask about places of interest, but they were all too far away for a bike. I went back to the caravan park, got the tent up and had an afternoon siesta.

My last day dawned bright and clear, with the wind still behind me. Today’s ride would take me to Sale, my last port of call. The riding here is fairly flat and the road is very straight. I reckon some sections would not have a bend for 15 kms, which requires some mental effort to keep going when the road just keeps on into the distance horizon. Somewhere around Stradbroke I stopped for lunch, rode about 100 metres up a dirt track into the bush. Absolute silence, except for occasional bird calls. I boiled some 2-minute noodles, and because it was Good Friday added a tin of sardines with some tomato paste. It went down very well, followed by a muselie bar and a cup of tea. I arrived in Sale at 2.30pm. After booking into Caravan Park, I rode straight to station to arrange for my ticket home tomorrow morning. Because I had a bike I was informed I had to be at the station 30 minutes before the train was due, which meant no later than 6.45am.

I had booked a cabin at the caravan park as a little luxury on the last night. And besides it had a clock radio so I could set an alarm, and hopefully not miss the train the next morning. The train would take me back to Melbourne, and after a change of trains back to Geelong and home.

So this is where it all ends after 5 days and 365.4 kms. The ride had some challenges, but over all it had been enjoyable. It is always amazing to me how much more you see on a bike. You travel at a pace that allows you take things in as you pass, and it become so much more enjoyable. There will definitely be more rides in the days ahead.