It seemed like a good idea at the time… If we’re going to be riding in the Alps next month, Jo thought she should have a little hill riding as training. Over a beer or two last night Evan mentioned that he hadn’t ridden up Mount Donna Buang for some time, and what a great ride it is at this time of year, especially with the Warburton-Healesville road being closed over winter. A spur of the moment decision and the three of us decided to ride up there today.
First there was the early start — not too early, but early enough that we thought there’d be a bit of the day left after we finished. Coffee and toast while I wrestled with the tyres, changing the normal slicks for the off-road knobbies — dirt-roads and the possibility of snow meant that slicks wouldn’t be a good idea!
Evan called round and picked us up, three bikes onto the roof and off we went. Under an hour later and we were getting unpacked and sorted out in the car-park of the Launching Place pub. The plan was to ride the 12km along the rail-trail to Warburton as a warm-up, then up the mountain through the forest, then the Warburton-Healesville dirt-road along the ridge, and back down to Launching place. Its about 70km, a good three or four hours out in magnificent country.
The rail-trail is an easy ride, a little muddy in places, it meanders through the paddocks and bush, sometimes popping out to cross the road at inconvenient places. Not many other bike riders, but a wide selection of people walking, including a group of about a dozen, with nearly twice as many dogs.
Into Warburton we turned from the trail back onto the road, then left and up, towards Mt Donna Buang. “Road Open to Summit,” proclaimed a large illuminated road sign. Slowing as we climbed, the road passed through alternating warm sunny patches and increasingly cooler shady spots. By the time we reached the forest lookout platform, roughly half-way up, none of us wanted to stop for very long and admire the view.
Jo riding up Mt Donna Buang in the snow
We’re not sure exactly how far it is from Warburton to the top, one sign at the bottom says 17km to the summit, at the forest lookout it is 9km to both top and bottom, and at the last turn one sign states one kilometre to summit, twelve to the bottom! I’m tempted to believe 18km, but in any case it’s quite a climb. Launching Place is about 150m above sea level, Warburton, 220m. The peak of Mt Donna Buang rises to 1250m, with the road winding all the way to the top.
From the lookout onwards there was increasing patches of snow at the side of the road, and signs warning us to beware of snow clearing machinery. A light but constant stream of motorists wound past up the hill, some waving, some just looking bemused. We caught them up and passed them all again at the entrance to the park, there’s a $6 charge per car, but bicycles can enter for free. The weather was perfect though, not a breath of wind, and a clear blue sky.
Jo and Evan and our three bikes at the summit of Mt Donna Buang
At the last car-park the road was closed the last 100m to the summit, families sat by their cars with picnics and coffee, kids slid around on plastic toboggans. The more energetic walked up to the peak, Evan and I tried to ride… I made it about 2m before jumping off, the front wheel ploughing off on a course of its own choosing, the rear spinning frantically like a paddle-steamer. Jo sensibly walked from the start, keeping alongside, but in far less danger of falling over into wet snow!
One of the options for the descent from Mt Donna Buang
Once at the top we waded through knee-deep snow to the sign for the mandatory photograph, then stood around admiring the view and watching people toboggan past or have snow-ball fights, or build snowmen. Misty clouds started to come in over the peak and it cooled rapidly, we’d made it to the top, now time to leave. Again, Evan and I foolishly tried to ride the snow-covered track back to the car-park. I made it most of the way, frantically hopping on one foot while half-balanced on the seat. Evan lowered his seat so that it resembled an 1880’s bicycle and paddled his way down with both feet on the ground. Once again, Jo sensibly walked, and got there ahead of both of us!
Evan testing the snow on the Warburton-Healesville road
Consternation at the turnoff for the Healesville-Warburton road. We’d been expecting snow, but not quite this much snow. Cross-country skis would have a chance, but there was no way that we’d be able to ride through this! It was well over knee-deep, as Evan demonstrated by embedding the bike upright in the snow on the road and walking off.
While wondering just how far the snow continued, a couple of skiers appeared from around the corner. Definitely not a road to try and ride down, we’d have been out all afternoon and not have had an enjoyable time, not to mention probably getting soaked.
The only option was to put on the warm gloves, zip up the wind-proof jackets, and head back down the way we’d come. A chilly 9km run to the forest lookout, my fingers and toes going numb, worrying that I wouldn’t have enough feeling left to operate the brakes. I insisted on a stop, parking myself for a minute alongside the parks noticeboard, long enough to get some circulation back into fingers. Off again for the last half of the decent, Evan leading the convoy, me a hundred metres back, then Jo, then a couple of motorists who didn’t want to pass.
I thought my front tyre was feeling a little strange on the bends, but put it down to an unfamiliar tyre, a different profile, or just the hill and the cold. Evan had stopped on the last bend in the sun to wait for us, and as I pulled off the road I realised that my front tyre was now almost completely flat. Not fair — two punctures in twenty-four hours! As I turned the wheel, Evan politely enquired whether the two thumb-tacks embedded in it were a likely cause. I guess I’d picked them up at the National Parks noticeboard…
We stopped in Warburton for a well-earned lunch, calling in at the Swagman Café, that rather peculiarly, was advertising Polish food and beer. Evan ordered soup, Jo and I, the focaccias, and three coffees. With two staff and only two other customers, we were expecting quick service… Sitting comfortably out in the sun, we didn’t mind the the coffee and soup seemed to take a while to arrive. Half an hour later, however, the lack of focaccias was irritating. I ventured back inside to enquire, the response: “Oh, was there food with that order?” did nothing to cheer me up! With much apology the food was rushed out, it wasn’t very good, but by then neither Jo nor I cared.
Nearly four o’clock, it was definitely now time to head back towards Launching Place and home! The gentle curves of the rail-trail are a great wind-down after the strenuous hill climb and freezing descent. Only one problem — and it was the usual problem when riding in a rural area — a car goes past and the idiots inside decide to abuse the cyclists. “Get off the bicycle!” came an amplified voice as the car passed on the road — only one difference from the usual run-of-the-mill idiots. This one was a marked police car — I guess the rural officers get bored easily. Really makes me feel comfortable about approaching them in other circumstances though!
Finally back at the car, nearly seven hours after we set out, we could pack up and head back to home. Very little chance of getting anything else done this Saturday though!
