Day 2 of a Long Commute ~ Nov 7, #3
The next morning looking over the forecast it was a mixed bag - the highs had been mid-80s and the morning’s forecast was now 87 with a kicker, possible lightening by late afternoon continuing into the next day. Geelong was another 45 miles in one go and we didn’t have any intel on possible tent sites anywhere along the route. We debated briefly over taking a rest day or pushing on to reach our intended campsite at the Geelong Showgrounds. Over a breakfast of lack luster oatmeal, we decided it was better to try to stay ahead of the storm, taking breaks from the heat, and get to Geelong early, allowing us a couple rest days before the ferry. We called ahead to book our spot for the next three nights and made sure to confirm we could enter the Showgrounds at whatever hour we arrived.
After a pleasant chat with an Aussie couple and their Kelpie pup camped nearby, we set out following the coastline bike path over to the Werribee Park Mansion. In just 4 miles, we were ready for a break from the mid-day heat and took refuge under a giant Cypress perfectly tucked away in a canopy of evergreen boughs hidden from the blazing sun. Almost everyone we met confirmed the sun here is more intense and in Tassie apparently even more so. The contrast had been instantly apparent to us upon arrival - stepping between shade and sun with an almost constant coastal breeze/wind required either putting on or taking off a layer within seconds.
What Beneath the Water Lurks?
After enjoying our lunch under the Cypress, we continued on to the other side of the estate to find our first river ford. According to the hosts at the mansion the foot bridge was in need of repair, so crossing the river was our only option to continue on the bike path. It was evident the flow had dropped several feet some time ago, the water level only ankle deep and about 35 meters/40 feet wide. We could see the track across was covered in rustic style cobblestone. Just then, a moped appeared on the opposite side and blitzed across the river in front of us without incident. We concluded it safe to take off our shoes and wade across with our bikes.
Whilst congratulating ourselves on our first river crossing, we briefly confirmed with each other crocodile territory was further up the West coast anyway. Donning our footwear, we stepped back to the river’s edge to snap a few photos upstream. Suddenly a few hundred meters away, we both witnessed a wild splash into the water off the bank and then nothing. My mind tried to make sense of whether someone had just jumped in, thrown something in, a branch fell, or if it could possibly have been something else?!? We waited and watched for someone or anything to surface but nothing. Then, just as sudden, another wild splash even further away followed by nothing. We waited some more, until it was clear, whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t human. What it was - a mystery.
Continuing on we reached an expanse that finally looked like the open Australian landscape imprinted in our minds. Still no kangaroos or snakes in sight, we did spot our first hawk, perched in a young Eucalyptus tree under the strict supervision of a Raven on a nearby branch. Even after passing our first Kangaroo warning sign, nothing. It seemed no one other than us, the birds and a few rabbits were braving the mid-day heat.
A few more miles down the trail we crossed under the interstate and lost the trail for a few meters until realizing it continued on across a foot bridge hidden just behind us. The path quickly met up again with the backsides of suburban neighborhoods and then headed straight into the newest developments expanding the suburban reach out into what appeared to have been formerly open grass plain or farm land. The realization sunk in that no country is spared the never-ending growth of urbanization. Our desire to reach the back country increased with every crosswalk and strip of new bike path criss-crossing plowed up land ready for the next wave of urban housing.
Out-riding the Storm
We had just started receiving storm alerts of lightening near Werribee our last campsite when above us the clouds briefly let go with rain and then abruptly stopped.
Pushing the wind beyond the suburbs of Melbourne
Several miles later the landscape shifted to a wide expanse of untouched farm land most of which looked to be forsaken in the wake of impending development. We passed modest old-style brick farm houses and out buildings falling into disrepair, remnants of its last occupants still scattered up to the road side. A few more rolling hills later, the farms showed evidence of a life still lived, as it had been for decades, sheep farms and horse farms grew closer and closer until we reached the outlying towns surrounding Geelong.
Criss-crossing the open arid land, we were met with a constant head wind no matter which direction the road turned, slowly wearing us down, until brief respites along the roadside no longer had the restorative effect we hoped for. Our motivation for moving forward was to stay ahead of the flashes of lightening we continued to see every few miles behind us. Reportedly on the Weather App, they remained 6-7 miles away all the way to Geelong.
With fifteen miles left to go and only a couple hours til sunset, there was no doubt we were riding into the night to find our campsite. Thankfully we reached the first town outside of Geelong before dark, and were once again traveling on bike paths until we reached the downtown core.
The path was now following the coast line with no break from the wind. Even still we tried to enjoy looking out over the expansive wetlands lined with Mangroves, and views reaching out to the open sea bathed in a sunset glow. Our first glimpses of Geelong proper revealed it was another sprawling city, smaller than Melbourne, but not a small town like we had envisioned. The bike path entered the city on the industrial, harbor-side, passing oil refineries and wood mills before dropping back to a scenic coast-line skirting the outer edges of downtown.
Hitting the Wall
Only minutes after thinking to myself how impressed I was not only by the bike network of trails bridging cities, but also Nivaun’s ability to track them for over 80+ miles in the last two days…we hit a wall. Literally, a 6 foot tall locked metal gate, blocking the four foot wide concrete slab of bike path we had been following, elevated about a foot above a white sandy beach front park. We were literally 5 miles from our campground, it was nearing 9:30pm and now this…. If it weren’t for our past experience with untimely trail surprises, this could have been a melt down moment but we remained unfazed, determined to put all our energy into moving forward.
Nivaun hopped down to the sand to have a look around the gate surveying what lie on the other side - the path continued but was partially blocked by a string of chain link fencing poised to prevent trespassers from entering the latest construction site of waterfront housing just below the million dollar homes perched atop the hill. We decided to leave the bikes to explore further whether or not it was possible to navigate alongside the fencing and regain full access to the path on the other side.
Seeing no other obstructions amidst the darkness, we decided to give it a go. We eased our bikes down onto the sand and back up on to the path. Balancing ourselves and the bikes between the sea wall and the chain link fence, we navigated quite easily along, until we rounded the corner - a massive excavator had somehow parked directly on the path in front of us. Nivaun explored further, but the construction site won. There was no easy way to navigate around and thus we retreated back to the beach front park, wound our way up to the top of the hill and found a way through the posh district, back down to the path.
Arriving in the heart of downtown from the coast line path we now had to wind our way up through the city streets to find our campground on the east side of town. It began to feel like we were heading to a mirage until we saw the first sign for Geelong Showgrounds and rolled through the open gates to find our patch of grass under a tree away from the busy rail line and close to the restrooms and shower.
Relieved we setup camp and our heads hit our pillows just after midnight.