Melbourne to Adelaide 1000 (Gravel)

Firstly..
I came across this ride while doing a late night trawl through Ride With GPS desperately looking for a way to fill my holidays with something exciting, something adventurous. I believe this is an Audax ride, at least thats who the author was on Ride With GPS.

Why something so ambitious? I’d never done something like this before and I needed a break from life. I love my work, I love my friends, but sometimes it gets to a point where I feel I have a lot of people leaning on me with expectation and that weight gets heavy.

I’ve always loved cycling solo because its just you out there. Nobody to ask you to speed up or slow down, nobody to question your judgement. Every decision is yours and it only effects you.

Where better to find that escapism than the lonely gravel roads between Melbourne and Adelaide. Full days of solitude, no questions, no expectation, just me, my bike and the open air.

This was a really hard ride both mentally and physically.
The hardest parts were the extreme heat (I had 5 days in the high 30s) and the headwinds (its blowy out there).
I would have anxiety every night before my ride and not get much sleep because I was uncertain how the next day would go.
Each day, I would just ride and see how far I would get and then plan my accommodation as I was rolling into town.
I’m not sure I would have wanted it any other way. The scenes I saw are indescribable. The feel of rolling into a new town each day, each with its own identity is a feeling that is hard to describe.
This is something that will stay with me forever.

On a funny side note, when I got to the station to leave Adelaide after cycling more than 1000km.. Walking my bike to the gate, I tripped over, fell on the bike and smashed the derailleur hanger.

Day 1: Bundoora to Avoca

Lying in a motel pretty exhausted from the days proceedings, while it was a hard day, it certainly was a good day!

The original plan was to leave not in the middle of a heatwave.. corona virus had other ideas and I was pinged as being exposed at a Christmas festivity outing..

Leaving from my place at 5am, generally you could just catch a train to starting point, but it’s holidays, there’s little traffic, it’s only 20kms.. I’ll just ride the bike paths to the city.

They were a great warm up and continued through the city out past Caroline Spring.
On a side note, the bike paths out there are excellent! I didn’t realise how far you could go.

Eventually the bike paths ended and I found myself Rockbank bound on some reasonably quiet backroads that lead to the Western Hwy.

About 50 or 60km in, there’s a 7/11 and since I was fairly ill prepared for the journey that lay ahead, I thought I may as well have some sushi and top up my water supplies. This proved to be a good move..

Before long I was scuttling along some quiet back country roads that lead the way to Ballarat and in terms of services or supplies, there were none.
The sun had poked through and the top for the day was going to be 36, things were well and truly beginning to warm.

I still felt good, but the bike felt heavy. I knew there was a little bit of climbing to do before Buningyong, mainly all on asphalt but a few gravel climbs snuck in there as well.

Riding through the Brisbane ranges, it was spectacular. Only a car or two passing but I was quickly working through my water supplies.
I did bring a backpack, complete with hydration pack as an emergency, but 40kms out from the next town in Buningyong, I was starting to get a little worried. The days heat had set in.
I followed the beautiful country roads onwards, a landscape littered with windmills. Quite a sight

Rationing my water and taking a shaded break at 20km intervals I found myself alternating on gravel, asphalt and at one stage, just a grassy paddock which I’ll alert you to on the rwgps file.. Best to take a detour because it’s not a road, the grass is high and while I didn’t see a snake, I certainly did tread carefully.

I looked down at my Garmin, one more climb and then a descent into Buningyong. Phew! I was on my last few sips.
Some elite looking cyclists buzzed passed me and my wonky set up, they were training for nationals apparently, a few fitter men and woman than me.
I grabbed a bite in Buningyong, a portable bike pump from the bike shop next door, 2x powerades and restocked my water.

Time was getting on and I knew that I still needed to book a place to stay.. Ballarat was only a good 20 or 30km away.. Avoca I thought was about 70km.. Avoca I chose, I wanted to get as far as possible..
Avoca wasn’t 70km away.

From Buningyong, it was smooth riding into Ballarat, most asphalt and fast roads. I’d had a head wind most of the day but it was fairly light so I was making good time.

Through Ballarat and a beautiful half lap of Lake Wendouree. I found another gas station and topped up my drinks again.. My god I was absolutely chewing through the water.

Smooth asphalt ridge continued, traffic had picked up a touch but nothing to sinister other than the odd middle finger from local motorists.

It had hit about 4pm and it was hot! My legs were beginning to tire and I didn’t feel I was as far along as I needed to be.
I whipped out the phone to see how far I had to go.. Still about 60kms!!!!
This was going to be a late finish.. I googled what services there were in Avoca and really not much.. IGA closed at 7.30pm and that was my best bet for dinner.

I powered on, stopping at the general store in Clunes to top up my water once again, plus two Powerades, plus a can of V for extra kick.

As I was absolutely knackered, I reemployed the 20km test approach at one stage taking a seat under a large tree to the looks of many amused motorists.

I could feel myself getting closer! 40kms left! Shortly after Clunes I turned off the main strip onto gravel.. white lumpy corretares gravel.
The V kicked in and I was gunning it. I needed to make that general store.

Suddenly I heard a light hiss and found myself sprayed with white liquid droplets.. It was the sealant from my front wheel!
Surely not! I have 30kms left!!
I closed my eyes and prayed for it to seal.
Seal it did! For around 5km until it hissed again, this time expelling a fair amount of liquid! This is it I though, I’m going to have to take off this tyre and throw in a tube. (For me, probably a 2 hour exercise).
But no! It sealed! I kept pedalling.. It’s all good! A gravel climb and only 20km to Avoca.. please hold!
I stopped and checked my maps.. I could have ridden the course on gravel but there was a freeway only 500m in front of me.
Bugger the course I thought, I didn’t want to risk the tyre!

I counted down the kms.. thinking how long it would take me to walk to Avoca if the tyre punctured at that moment.. 15km? 3 hours.. 10km? 2 hours. 9km.. 7pm.. 30 mins until IGA closes!
I jumped out of the saddle.. 8km, 6km, 5km!
I was going to make it!!

I rolled into Avoca and v-lined for the IGA.. As they were closing the door I stopped it with my foot.. “I’LL BE QUICK” I proclaimed!
Alarmed by my clearly dishevelled appearance, the young girl closing the door jumped back in shock and motioned me through..

I panicked! Wtf do I want to eat! I hadn’t even seen the accomodation yet! I approached the counter with two packets of cured meats, some cheese and a box of salads biscuits.. Dinner wasn’t going to be gourmet..

I rode to my motel, the room was amazing! They had left the aircon on, there was a jacuzzi!

I jacuzzi’d, posted my ride of course, got my affairs in order and passed out.
I had ridden 238km in the searing heat.

My longest ride to date with a bloody heavy bike.

Day 2: Avoca to Stawell

I woke up at 5am. I did not feel fresh!
My legs were heavy and cramped. My ass felt like it had been rammed by a goat.

I hadn’t adjusted my seat from my last ride where it felt too low.. The cramps sort of on the right side of my knees indicated it was still too low. Naturally I forgot to adjust it again and set off.

A bit of asphalt to start the day and then Gravel.. lots of it.
I cruised along some smooth gravel along Percydale Rd which was to take me along the outskirts of a nature reserve at the base of Mount Warrenmang until Percydale Rd revealed a large fence with a sign saying “private property – keep out”..
Not one to argue, there was a little road to the left that looked slightly rougher than Perceydale but perhaps this was the route.. It wasn’t..
The track became tougher, kind of like double track, at first it was fun, dodging the stones picking the lines until it was no longer fun..
At first, a tough gravel climb which I undertook on foot.. a stronger cycling would probably be ok..
Great views at the top, a descent not too tricky to navigate and then a climb..
Well a cliff.. a stronger cyclist perhaps Walt Van Aert might be able to climb it but even then I’m skeptical..
This climb was barely climbable on foot and it was about 1km long.
The descent, let’s just say I hike-a-biked that too..
Once down, a rough track snaked around but it was doable.. GPS reception wasn’t picking up the track and just as I started to question whether I should have followed this path or not, I rejoined Perceydale Rd and smoother gravel prevailed.
Perceydale Rd eventually joined civilisation again and spat me out at a town called Moonambel which did have a general store although I was too early to receive it..

Moving forward, about 20km of 1% gradient dead road bitumen took me another gravel path where at this time I was really starting to feel the heat.
The days top was to be 39, it was only about 10am but we were well over 30..
Rolling hills of gravel took me past the outskirts and then through the Landsborough Nature Conservation Reserve and then weaved it’s way through to Landsborough. A small country town with a pub, hotel and post office.

With very heavy legs and the temperature amping up, my original plan was to ride to Horsham.. I would not be riding to Horsham, Stawell was only about 40kms away and that’s where I would be staying.

I could find any accomodation in Stawell the night before but I though I would try my luck when I got there.. Somewhere with a pool would be ideal but I would settle for anything other than having to sweat in my tent all night.

The next 40km were hell! What seemed to feel like endless rolling hills of gravel, stretching on and on and on..
Each lump in the earth gradually adding fatigue to my aching body.
This was the point where I realised I should not have ridden 240km the day prior.

5 years later, I came to a sign. 16km Stawell. I counted down every km to 16.
Alas, the sign was bloody wrong!
An asphalt climb, what felt like 10% but in reality was probably like 3 or 4% stretched on for a further one or two km.
I was like a snail, slithering up the mountain but I could see the top.

I descended without pushing through even one single revolution of the pedals until I spotted a bakery.
A pizza pie, Coke Zero and chicken focaccia disappeared into the abyss.

Booking.com revealed no accomodation but a google search revealed a motel on the outskirts of town (with a pool).
It had vacancy, I had won the lottery.

While it wasn’t shangri lá, the pool was suffice and I was able to wash my clothes, order a pizza and get some recovery time in.

Day 3: Stawell to Horsham

Thanks to an unknown prankster setting the alarm clock to midnight I started the ear with an interrupted sleep.
Probably not the worst thing as if that didn’t get me, the towns New Years fireworks which sounded as though they were being launched from my bathroom would have.

It was 5am. A quick coffee, left over pizza and I was on the road.
I rode until I reached the train tracks, took a sharp right and hit gravel..
A few 100m down the road there were some friendly kids climbing a train tower who had a wave and a chuckle and provided me with my daily motivation. “You look really fit said one”. I liked those kids.
The smooth gravel continued parallel to the rail until I was to reach The Western Highway.
Being New Year’s Day, there was not a car in site. I felt fresh and the legs felt good.
I veered off from the Highway for a brief gravel detour which I think I took the turn a bit early and ended up straight back on the Highway. If anything, a mild inconvenience implemented into the route for a taste of a bit more gravel.
More Highway until I hit Jess Rd and more gravel. Again, nice, smooth and flat.
Jess Rd ran out and i was given an option, follow the GPS through a paddock which has never been a road, or detour around.
I took the detour which worked out about the same. Right then left for reference.
Some more straightforward gravel until I was back on the Highway and crossing through a place called Dadswell Bridge..
I’ll always remember this place.
Dadswell Bridge is the home of a giant rather perturbed looked koala. I can’t understand how they would think of this as a family tourist attraction. It would absolutely terrify children.
For me though, the novelty of it added to my day.
There’s also a coffee shop that opens up at 8.30am there as well as a motel and I think I saw a bar.
I had arrived at 7.30am but I could not convince the coffee shop owner to turn on the coffee shop machine early for me so I sat at the bus stop eating a quiche ogling the constipated giant koala.
Back on the road and I had an excellent view of morning sun hitting The Grampians. It was a site to behold. It even felt like I had a slight tail wind.
I banked left onto another quiet asphalt road, Grampians still in view and close enough to appear completely spectacular.

I followed this road for some time until the road took a sharp right and I was again greeted by gravel. This was the final straight to Horsham and I was making excellent time!
The gravel turned to sand and the bike sunk and swerved. At times the same became unrideable and I had to walk brief sections. Who makes a road out of sand!?
The sand was short lived however and the road turned to dried dirt.
I will note that this is suggested as a dry weather only road. I assume that’s to do with the sand and the dirt?
Regardless, the dirt was firm and actually made for a fast surface.
Surrounded by fields of yellow grass I roared into Horsham.
Nothing was open of course except a little bakery on the outskirts of town called Seers. Also Maccas but I wanted to try Seers.
It was good!! Much better than Maccas.
I’d arrived at 10am so I was early and lazed about at Seers for a while until I was able to check in nice and early to a motel I had booked with a pool.
Even at 10.30 the temperature had reached 35, although overcast, a day by the pool was exactly what the doctor ordered.

Day 4: Horsham – Hopetoun

Another crappy night sleep, another scorcher of a day but with one huge difference.. I would have the wind on my back all day!

I must say, I did have a bit of anxiety about the day ahead. Not just the heat but I was leaving the last of the really big towns for a planned three days in areas that were a bit off the beaten track.
This was new territory for me and while I felt prepared, I was still nervous.

In attempt to beat the heat, I set the alarm for 4am, slept in 15mins and eventually got on the road by about 4.45am.

It was dark but I had my lights, it was cool and calm with very little traffic.
I was riding parallel to the train lines on the Western Hwy and the way was long and straight..
A quick turn off onto a few kms of gravel riding the outside of The Wail State Forest led me into Dimboola which is a really cute town, just a shame I was too early to catch any of the shops or a coffee.
I sat in a deserted down eating an egg and bacon sandwich I had purchased from Coles the night before.

The next stop was to be Jeparit, birthplace of Sir Robert Menzies I was to read on the sign.
A quiet asphalt road in from Dimboola with only a car or two passing me by.
Another cute little town where locals seem to have a penchant for writing witty things on the walls or windows or their shops.

I kept moving and while the sun was up, I was making good time with a light tail wind.
The very same quiet asphalt road curved it’s way passed a parched Lake Hindmarsh with literally not a drop of water in it.

Still eerily quiet roads with nothing but empty wheat fields and large silos every 20km or so took me into Rainbow, a town with a large rainbow fittingly greeting you at the entrance.
At last! People were awake and I was able to sit down to a really good egg and bacon roll as well as a coffee that whilst perhaps didn’t look appetising, was still very drinkable.
The guy behind the counter was really friendly with the locals, didn’t seem to like me too much but then again, who really does like cyclists.

The weather had warmed and the scorch had begun. I was a little bit nervous as I had 50km still to travel and my Garmin was reading the temperature at 36 degrees.
I had plenty of fluids and still a tail wind so I took a gel and hesitantly took off with accomodation awaiting me in Hopetoun.

To my delight, the rest of the ride was to be asphalt and the wind had slightly picked up.
I had broken down the journey into 10 lots of 5km intervals which actually really helped make the arduous task feel less arduous.
Past a tiny town called Yaapeet, a sharp right and then gun barrel straight to Hopetoun.

I had stocked up in fluids at Rainbow and I’m glad I did.
I gunned it to Hopetoun, setting the fastest pace I had set all day, sipping my hydration pack as I went, music pumping in my ears.
5 blocks of 5kms left, 4 blocks, 3, 2, 1.
When I arrived, the temperature had risen to 38 degrees but I didn’t care, I had made it.

I found a take away shop and gorged on some potato cakes and chips & gravy then headed down to Lake Lascelles (which is absolutely amazing by the way) to cool off.

Funny side note, check-in for the motel was at 3pm which has come and gone.
I called the mobile number off the booking and a lady answered letting me know she was just about to jump in the shower and then she’d head down to let me in. It’s 3.30pm so I’m just sitting on a bench out the front waiting for her to arrive.
It’s a pub too and quite a few thirsty travellers have come and left disappointed and still thirsty.

Later on, she made me a pizza.. 1 of only the 30 they had left to sell that night and all was well.

Day 5: Hopetoun – Murrayville

And on this day I was to turn 36 years old.. I had calculated around 160km for my birthday ride.
Not much in the way of big towns today but I knew there was a general store in Walpeup which was approx. 80km North which was easy because the weather had cooled somewhat and the wind was blowing gently from the south. Then turn at 90 degrees and head West for another 80km.

I dusted the cobwebs out of the legs and got things moving.
The gentle southerly had me moving quick on the flat, straight asphalt roads eventually bringing me into Patchewollock.
A tiny town with not much in the way of anything other than a little sheltered area with tables and chairs.
I sat down and finished off last nights pizza before hitting the road again.

As the next 45km passed, while I had enough food and water, I was really looking forward to a coffee.
The sun was out, I still had the southerly and it was still a bit fresh, a coffee would warm me up and I’d grab some extra snacks and drinks for the rest of the leg into Murrayville.

Alas! The general store was to be closed as it were as I did not care to think, a public holiday due to New Year’s Eve falling on a weekend.
I was to be without coffee as was a disappointed local farmer who also was dropping in for a caffeine hit.
The next store he told me would be Murrayville. Something I scoffed at as there was another town 20km up the road called Underbool and I was tô have my coffee there!

By this stage i had turned into what felt like a crosswind. The wind was blowing from the SouthWest and I was travelling West slowing me down tô a degree.
Underbool came and the Pink Pantry was ofcourse closed.
Not panicking, but not calm, I realised that I had finished my drink bottles, 2x powerades and all my big meals. I did still have a full hydration pack, cliff bars and gels that i picked up in Horsham that should get me through.
I also nervously filled up some tankwater into my bottles next up the Underbool restrooms that I intended to keep as emergency water should the hydration pack run dry.

I set back out onto the road. I had completed 100km but my legs were staring to feel a little sore.
I knew I had about 60km left but the wind had changed and was now coming slightly more from the west as opposed to the south.
This was now well and truly a headwind.
These last 60km would be tough.

The weather had heated up to well over 30 again and I was beginning tô tire.
Counting down in 5km intervals I was planning to rest every 20km.
40km tô go came and I felt my tyre starting to feel a little light on air.
I just wanted to get to my destination so I wasn’t about to grab out the pump.
I was really tired.

Back on and counting down to 20k, my hydration pack was really running out and I was starting to get hungry.
The cliff bars or gels just weren’t cutting it and the wind was really starting tô blow.
20km left. 15. 10. 5. Murrayville!

Not much in the town except a train station, a small group of shops and a huge Queenslander style corner pub with a sign out the front reading “serving lunch between 12 and 2”.
With no sign of a general store in sight, I panicked and checked my watch.. 1:50pm, I still had time!
I burst through the doors looking like a dishevelled mess hoping they hadn’t closed the kitchen early.
Tô my delight they hadn’t and I was able tô receive a beef burger with chips, a pint of great northern and a backlog of birthday well wishes from friends and family.
The pub also doubled as a motel and was where I was to spend the night.

2 pints later, I collapsed into a heap in my motel room and napped off the alcohol.

This was a hard day. 160km between services is the longest I’d experienced on this trip and I’m really glad I catered for extra food and water or I may have been in trouble.

Day 6: Murrayville – Mannum

Fatigue was starting tô creep in, I’d covered close to 700k in the 5 days leading up today but I had three options remaining for my journey:
1. Ride tô Karoonda (140km), stay there and then ride to Mannum (68km) and finish off to Adelaide (another 98km) over three days
2. Ride to Karoonda, stay there and then have a big day to Adelaide with lots of climbing
3. Ride to Mannum (210km) and then an easy-ish day to Adelaide.

First things first, I had a front tyre that needed some air. So I screwed on my mini little pump that I bought in Buningyong and filled her up.
Upon unscrewing the mini little pump, it unscrewed the core to the valve with it sending air hissing out.
Annoying, I had not encountered this problem before so I simply screwed back in the valve core and repeated the process hoping for the best.
4 times I repeated this and on the final attempt I managed to get some air in the tire without screwing the pump all the way on.
Probably about the same PSI before I started the whole ideal. Nevertheless, at least I was on my way.

I had to ride over the border and 27km to Pinaroo for my first stop.
I was a little bit apprehensive on what was waiting for me at the border given the frequent changing of COVID regulations.
Tô my delight, they were even checking fruit, the quarantine station was close and it was a complete non-event.
Speaking to the lady in the pub the day before over lunch, apparently the police acting as border security has just up and left.
So I cruised through without any resistance and made it to the OTR Roadhouse in a timely manner where a breakfast burrito and coffee were waiting for me.
Today was a notably cooler morning then the previous 5 which meant I had the whole day to ride in comfort opening up my options supposedly.

On the 70km mark I arrived in Lameroo, my tyre noticeably flatter than when I left in the morning.
I didn’t want to stuff around too much with because if I let all the air out again there’s a chance I’d be spending the night in Lameroo.. not one of my options.
I pressed on, North West, I had held a crosswind for most of the day and I wasn’t feeling too bad.
Perhaps I could make it further then I thought.

It was a further 70km to Karoonda riding on a road with a car passing maybe once every 45mins.
Halfway there I looked down at my tyre, it was getting flatter and flatter. I gathered that the core was loose and was slowly leaking air.
I tried again tô fill her with air. Failing miserably again, I now had even less air to work with.
35km left, I would give it a crack at getting to Karoonda and fixing it there.

Through the amount of time I’d spent on the road, my sit bones had become quite sore and I was spending a bit of time out of the saddle even on the slightest gradient.
The bike began to bounce up and down on the tyre, slowing my movement and making me work for each kilometre.
Finally, taking it 5km at a time, I limped in tô Karoonda.
I was tired, I was hungry, I was sore. I think I was going to spend the night here.
I found some supplies at the towns IGA and grabbed a BLT from the tuckshop.
I called the pub to see if they had a room, no answer. They must not be open yet. I was going tô try the caravan park but I though I’ll just give the tyre one more go.
This time, rather then pissing around, I thought I’d screw the mini little pump on super tight and hope that it doesn’t grab the core with it and seals up any slow leak.
I pumped and pumped and slowly unscrews the mini little pump..
SUCCESS!!!

Now that I have two fully inflated tyres, could I make it to Mannum? 68km, Im a bit tired but there’s seems to be a tail for most of the way..
Yes, no, ummmmm… YES!!!
I was going tô for it. Stuff it!!

I threw myself on the bike before I could change my mind..
The tail had me moving quick! Some gravel, a few small hills, some quick descents.. this was great!

Until.. I turned a corner.
The wind punched me right in the face.
40km gusts of headwind nasty.
I pulled over, had a drink and knew that I would have to take it slow.

I again counted down the kms, in 5km intervals. One light pedal stroke after another. I was starting tô fatigue fast!
One small climb, another, another.
I knew I was close, I just had to keep pedalling.
I looked at my Garmin, 200km down, 10km to go. The scenery was amazing but the wind strong.
I pushed on and to my delight, I was greeted by The Murray River and on the other side, the tourist township of Mannum.
A super quick ferry ride across and I stormed into town for a pie and pasta salad.
I had made it, my second biggest day on the bike, but the largest leap forward in terms of getting tô Adelaide.
I settled in to my accomodation, grabbed some fish and chips for dinner and anxiously thought about the day of climbing that awaited.

Day 7: Mannum – Adelaide

By now, I was well and truly exhausted. I could only manage a 5.30am rise.
I packed my things and wondered how I would get through the day. I knew I had about 1600m of vert. over 98km which ordinarily doesn’t sound unachievable but my legs felt heavy, my sit bones and knees aching. 2 Panadol and she’ll be right.

I hit the road, taking some time to warm up. A head wind of course, I’d made an agreement with myself tô have a slow day and take it easy.

A small climb out of Mannum and I was following a straight asphalt road running parallel to a water pipeline with traffic becoming busier as the morning went on.

I could see a climb in the distance. 5km at about 4% with a town called Palmer at the base. Easy enough accept for the 11% section in the middle which I took painfully slow.
A succession of two small climbs followed and you know what, I was doing alright.

The weather was freezing, I pulled over and put on my jacket.. you would think after 6 days of intense heat, it would be a relief, it wasn’t.
It was a miserable day, windy, light showers and cars whizzing passed.
Traffic was picking up as I made it closer to the city.

The climbs subsided and I was greeted with a small gravel section immediately followed by The Amy Gillet Bikeway. A fantastic asphalt bike track that weaves through the Adelaide Hills and the towns of Lobethal and Woodside.
Adelaide know how to do cycleways!

I popped into a bakery in Woodside and helped my self to a huge breakfast roll and coffee to warm me.
Almost straight after lunch the next round of climbing began.
Asphalt quickly turned into gravel and some ridiculous gradient that I wasn’t even going to bother with. I hopped off the bike and walked the gravel section to the top. Quickly descending, snaking around the Adelaide Hills and beginning a 6km asphalt climb, again at around 4%.
Although this did have a rather longer 11% section in the middle also, I managed tô pace myself and although a quick stop half way up to remove my jacket, made it through relatively unscathed.
I was going to do this! I was going to make it tô Adelaide today!

One more climb awaited me. The one I was nervous about. Mt Lofty, only about 3.5km but an average of around 7% which I later discovered tô be false. I would imagine 10% would be generous.
Not only were the asphalt sections steep, around a km in, the gps deviated to a gravel section.
An absolutely ridiculous gravel climb. Not even Matthew Van De Poel would have made it up this one.
I hopped off the bike and starting pushing, my footing slipping out from under me.
I couldn’t even walk up this thing!
I glanced at my Garmin, 23% grade for a good few 100metres.
My recommendation if you attempt this climb, ignore the gravel section and follow the asphalt around.
I hopped back on the bike and limped up the rest of the steep mountain to the summit.
A cloudy view of Adelaide city was waiting for me. It looked glorious through the haze and the fog but I was cold, I wasn’t going tô hang around and I started the descent into Adelaide.
As steep as it was coming up, it was going down and although the GPS through a few curve balls, it was relatively easy going until I hit the amazing bike paths leading down The Adelaide Hills along the freeway into the outskirts of town.

Some back streets, traffic lights and heavy traffic delayed the inevitable, however before long I was surrounding by buildings and cruised into Adelaide square.

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