Archive for May, 2010

29 May, 2010 @ 7:23 am | Comments (0)

All this rain. What happened to Sydney’s dry autumns of a few years ago?

 

I buy Mountain Biking-UK magazine from time to time, plus a few Trailflix riders are from the ‘mother’ country or have spent some time there, and one very common theme that keeps coming up is rain. And, like the fluoride in Colgate toothpaste, rain really does get in. Turns dirt to mud, bike parts to rust, forks & shocks to fail, and eventually gets into or under whatever wet weather gear you can buy…

 

And I know wet. In my teens, my younger brother and I would ride the motorbikes from Christchurch to the West Coast of the South Island in New Zealand on a regular basis. Locals in Canterbury call it the Wet Coast because it seems to rain there a lot. A whole lot.

 

We either camped, or if it didn’t stop raining, found a cheap motor camp cabin and bunked. No second-guesses why my camping skills are not up to scratch.

 

In those days the Coast was nearly devoid of cars and people, having had its heyday in the gold rush… then the greenstone (jade) rush… and later the coal mining boom. The lot of them now all-but disappeared. I still remember my Uncle taking my brother and I – at age 8 – over to our second cousins in the small West Coast town of Dobson for a week in the summer holidays, when the coalmine there was still open. I recall the sky in Dobson was a featureless grey, mainly because it never stopped raining the whole time we were there. Luckily, though, it was warm or the holiday itself would have been miserable. The highlight of our stay was the time we managed to get on board a tram that went down into one of the mines. It was an incredible experience: Helmets and lamps on, we boarded the carriage, on a 45-degree angle at the mouth of the mine. A single row of dim yellow lamps tracked our descent and water dripped from the roof almost all the way down. Luckily none of us was claustrophobic because the slow rail trip seemed endless. I remember looking back at the disappearing hole of grey light behind us, obscured by my uncle, steam rising from his body, and pondering about where we were headed. I’d seen the pictures of the earth with the yellow-hot lava in the centre and the cooler red lava just under the surface, so my 8-year-old-volcanic-obsessed mind was thinking we were heading down to this cauldron. Fortunately we stopped some way before the lava started oozing out of the coal…which was both a disappointment and a relief.

 

Apart from the subsequent showering with about 200 miners – with coal-black faces and arms, white eyes and the rest pink & hairy - my next memory was swimming at night with a million frogs.

 

With all that rain, backyard cricket and BBQ’s were, sadly, not an option. Tattered old war comics and ancient board games like Monopoly and Cluedo kept us amused, while my uncle and his cousins drank, smoked and played cards in the kitchen every night ‘til the early hours. Adult card playing was interesting to us kids mainly because we got to stay up late - which was a big thing to an 8-year-old - but mainly because I was co-opted into helping my 2^nd cousins sneak sips of beer and drag on cigarettes when the adults weren’t looking. One night after we were shuffled off – reluctantly - to bed, our 2^nd cousins and my elder brother and I climbed out the bedroom window in singlets and shorts in the pouring rain, through the mud patch that used to be the garden, and snuck along the barely lit streets, heading for the huge open water reservoir, used to supply the mine. Being the height of summer, it was like the tropics, so we were both drenched and (almost) warm.

 

Ignoring the ‘Trespassers will be Prosecuted’ sign (what kid understands ‘prosecuted’ anyway?), and climbing over the mesh fence at the reservoir, we stared into the huge pool, lit by a single arc lamp. It was writhing with black, slimy legs and tails. Large tadpoles and baby frogs with tails seemed to cover almost the entire surface, but the bright light was so strong, the white tank made the water underneath luminescent. I cupped my hand, dipped it in the water and caught a few, which were as cold and slimy as they looked and highly fascinating, but too frenetic to remain in my hand. Further along the pool edge, one of the cousins threw off his clothes and jumped into the pool, making a splash and joining the million throng. He didn’t appear to be being eaten alive so we all followed, a tad more tentatively, into the warmish water. Feeling the mucusy, shiny creatures swim past us was an eerie feeling – they all seemed to be on a mission – but to where? I never did find out..

 

As it was, though, if we’d been caught sneaking out at night it would’ve been a lot more painful… I remember the next day, wanting to ask my hungover uncle about the fate of the frogs, but it was either fear of being discovered or the threat of my brother’s fist, so I never did.

 

One day when the rain eased off to a drizzle, we biked around the streets on old rusty ladies bikes which were way too big for me and either had no gears or had rusted-out 3-shift Sturmey-Archer ones. I was barely able to look over the handlebars & steer let alone change gears and they were heavy and very sturdy so the couple of roller derby crashes did them (and luckily us) no harm at all…

 

These days, Sydney seems almost as wet as that summer, more like the UK than the Sydney of a few years ago. Global Climate Change means this might be it for a while, which would be unfortunate since neither the trails nor our bikes are ideal for riding in the wet. Whereas UK trails have had any clay and soli washed away eons ago, that’s our bread & butter.

 

Roll on the big dry. On weekends, at least.

 

 

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26 May, 2010 @ 11:38 pm | Comments (0)

It was the spring of 2007 when I first rode the Neverfail Trail in Marramarra National Park, near Dural. I drove out there expecting a great ride but found instead a trail infested with spider webs strung across the whole track, about every 10 metres. I dodged under some and pushed aside others but after persevering for the first 500M or so, I retreated, rode back, beaten. Now I don’t mind spiders, but by the time I got back, my bike jersey was like a cocoon…not pleasant.

Still desperate for a ride that day, I drove further on and rode the Old Great North Road. Great riding as usual.

A couple of years on and I decided recently it was time for a re-sortie. “Must have been the season”, I said to myself. I checked Google Maps to see if there were any other trails I could spot in the area and found 3, so was even more determined to head back to check the place out.

The return journey was well worth it: I didn’t spot a single spider, or web, and the rides were at the least interesting and at most, fantastic.

I think I was right; spider infestation must be seasonal. Unless you’re an arachnologist, I don’t recommend riding the trails early spring.

Marramarra is located past Dural, after Fiddletown (the name apparently comes from an American mining town where in the early 1800’s the local water source, Dry Creek, ran dry during the summer months, during which time the miners couldn’t do any mining and were said to be “fiddling around,” thus the name.) The road route to get to the trailhead takes you on a bit of a wild goose chase, but stick with it.

Trail 1: Neverfail Fire Trail, which, about 5Km in, splits into Collingridge and Coba Trails.

Collingridge (5Km): Moderately easy track, not too wide and narrow in places. Feels largely downhill from the start. All firetrail and at the end a reasonable view over the Lower Hawkesbury

Coba Trail (9 Km): Narrow firetrail. More interesting. Better views of the Upper Hawkesbury from further round the hills. The trail got very steep, rocky and very technical about halfway.

Eased off after a steep downhill but then became very narrow then flattened out as it rounded a hill. Eventually the trail entered private land that had a sign that said, “No Vehicles” but had no fence or gate. About there I stopped and headed back. There’s an abandoned rusted out old Ford Anglia – maybe 20 years old? ….

How the hell anyone drove it to this point I have no idea. Crazy… I could only guess that 20 years ago the trail was not nearly so overgrown AND they were crazy or maybe it was helicoptered in. Yeah…maybe not.

Trail 2: Smugglers Ridge Track. This is a shorter track from the looks of the map. I skipped this one on the day to try out…

Trail 3: Marramarra Ridge Track.

You head along Bloodwood Road to Smugglers Ridge Road, past the turnoff & gate to Smugglers Track then at the next T-intersection, turn right and park in either the first or second gap in the trees at the left. My gpx (coming soon with the trail page) starts at the first track but they both join up not too far along. For a start it’s a decline but quickly becomes fairly flat, rocky and sandy.

It follows a line of Pylons which is not my preferred trail accompaniment (they usually give me a headache - electromagnetism is weird physics!).

On the left about 2 Km in you can see from the track , the façade of an old sandstone house. Looks historic. It sits on a grassy ridge and looks like a great spot for a séance if you happen to be riding by at midnight… Got a photo but didn’t explore. Thereafter, good rocky trail with lengths of trail-width and unavoidable sand and a few sandstone areas and then there’s a gate after which the DH fun begins…

This next part’s for DownHillers: Unfortunately, you’d need to have a boat (I’ll explain later) if you don’t want to ride back up. The 1 km stretch between the first and second gate is fast enough but after the second gate it’s Andersons-style speed-of-light downhill all the way. This is fun and somewhat treacherous and goes for well over a kilometre… not for new riders; that’s for sure. Steep valley on the left and low grass-lined bush off to the sides and good views of the hills as you head down.

At the base of the hill you hit swampland but the trail that continues around to the right is built above the marshes and meanders round through sparse trees until you hit an orange grove.

Seriously.

I’d stopped to grab some food from my Camelbak and looked up to see near-ripe oranges. I hopped off the bike and headed a few metres off-track to go get a sample, when something dropped on my helmet: something big. 

A large seed pod from the huge tree 50 feet above me. At this point I realised that if the Orange trees didn’t want me to pick their fruit… then heck I would quite happily back off! But there were maybe 5 more trees behind this first one, indicating that unless this was private land then one could have a fairly hearty fruit lunch, in season…

Superstition aside they weren’t ripe anyway so I rode off, but I did get a couple of photos to prove it wasn’t my glue-sniffing addled brain, (well, maybe the superstitious part was.)

About another 700M on and the trail ends at a narrow river, one of the tributaries of the Hawkesbury. There’s a picnic table & BBQ and a sign alerting boat drivers of the Marramarra National park. Really nice spot, but was nearly in shadow when I rode in at midday

The ride up that great hill, well… not so nice. Steeper than Andersons. It felt endless.

It’s great training, I guess… I hiked a fair bit of the early part but the slope eased off and I rode some, figuring the downhill had made it worth the trek up.

Recommended.

 

 

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23 May, 2010 @ 9:00 am | Comments (0)

Sent to:office@sartor.minister.nsw.gov.au, lisa.corbyn@environment.nsw.gov.au, sally.barnes@environment.nsw.gov.au, alistair.henchman@environment.nsw.gov.au, gary.dunnett@environment.nsw.gov.au

on 23rd May

To Whom it May Concern,

Australia’s National Parks were initially developed along the lines of the US National Parks “for the benefit and enjoyment of the people”.

They were tracts of land set aside for human recreation and enjoyment, animal and environmental protection and (more recently than initially) restricted from most development.

They are now seen primarily as as lands of preservation, but retain a strong role in education and, to a certain extent, recreation.

As a result of this change, there is a disconnect between the parks and many young people, who see National Parks - if they consider them at all - as areas off-limits; certainly not areas to have “fun”.

At a time when the nation as a whole is lurching towards obesity and chronic diabetes, when the primary pastimes for the young are PC gaming, Facebook and TV watching, we need to do more to encourage young people to engage in outdoor recreation. Fewer young people are hiking bush trails yet we have set aside thousands of kilometres of walking tracks across the nation, barely used, but most of which bar access to mountain biking.

Mountain Biking is one of the fastest growing sports in Australia, more especially amongst men in their 30’s and 40’s, yet most riding occurs either on fire trails in National parks or on unconserved, often undeveloped land. And the latter is fast disappearing.

The primary disconnect between riders and National Parks is that the majority of mountain bikers want to ride singletrack, (narrow, challenging trails, approximately the width of a bike).

Today, this need is being unfulfilled officially. The current system of banning riders on singletrack, encourages continued unapproved construction and unapproved trail riding due to the
- 20+ year history of riding single track trails in national park areas at urban interfaces (this has in part led to community understanding that existing trails were legitimate).

- Loss of bush land outside of Parks containing other trails due to urban development.

- Shifting in park boundaries to occupy trail segments previously outside of National Parks.

- Failure at state, regional and council level to achieve integrated planning for trail networks and bike park areas in an established but rapidly growing recreational activity (despite government documentation of the need for trails and precedent in other States and regions).

- Fringe element in community constructing trails to meet user group demand not met by authorities.

- Unapproved construction in National Parks areas so that trail will not be destroyed later by urban development in other land tenures.

- Shortage of other and areas in Sydney (State Forest, State Recreation Area, Regional Parks).

- Lack of approved alternative that caters for sufficient ride duration and technical skill level.

However, other countries are meeting the challenge, opening up National Parks to singletrack mountain biking, engaging biking groups to manage and maintain the trails they are riding…  and this is being done sustainably (protecting and enhancing the ecological value of the bush) in the UK, NZ, Canada and the US.

Sadly, in Australia it’s anathema to most conservationists who seek to protect National Parks from the “ravages of damaging mountain bikes”. In truth, where local riders work with local parks staff to develop and maintain trails, they are no more damaging than a hiking trail. Such examples are the work done in Royal National Park in Sydney.

Going forward we should be

- Encouraging more people in the urban environment to take an interest in enjoying and protecting the bush.

- Allowing for greater community education and involvement in bush regeneration and trail maintenance.

- Providing part of a sustainable managed trail network that also increases its value to the community.

- Provide the direction so that regional level issues can be resolved by operations staff, riders and the community.

I seek your support and engagement in this much-needed initiative.

Regards,
Grant Shatford

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