Dreamlike Twilight

December nights in Queensland are almost never cool. Warm is usually an understatement to describe them. And yet there we were, standing in the middle of an anomaly a few days out from New Year’s Eve unloading bikes off the car at the town of Glasshouse Mountains in the Sunshine Coast Hinterland wondering if we would actually decide to swim in the Ewen Maddock Dam at about the halfway point of the ride we were about to start.

It was late afternoon. The shadows were getting long. CJ’s Bakery was closed and only a few of the locals were still milling around the town where we parked. A little bit of faffing, a visit to the toilet, attachment of bike lights and we rolling. Up a little incline along a narrow street flanked by densely spaced, large, old trees leading out of town and then ducking off down another even narrower lane. The dense trees gave way to country houses and orchards. Maybe avocados, maybe apricots, I’m not sure.

Before long the sealed surface of the lane gave way to dirt crunching under our tyres and we were rolling swiftly down a coarse gravel decline to a railway underpass at the bottom to a t-junction. More crops along another sealed road. Strawberries this time but the sealed road didn’t last long before we ducked off down a trail running beside the railway line. Bumping over tree roots sticking up out of the ground from the tall pines growing beside the railway line, a large, bright green field open up to our left with a couple of the Glasshouse Mountains in the distance. The ancient volcanic giants bathing in the late sunlight of the day.

A little more trail, then some bikeway and we found ourselves at Beerwah. There was still a little life here but we had no need to stop so we kept rolling through along Old Landsborough Rd. A bikeway and a lot of group enthusiasm propelled us swiftly along the straight into Landsborough, our mountain bike tyres humming along the concrete and asphalt surfaces.

Rolling into Landsborough, we passed the museum with its big, old wooden horse drawn carriage at the front. The timber on the carriage was weather beaten and cracked but provided a perfect window into the days of old and history of the town. The museum was closed of course so we kept rolling up the main street past the train station. The pub had a low level hum of people inside having dinner and drinks but the rest of the town was mostly done for the day.

On we rolled to the northern outskirts of town past the school, down a dead end street and into the Ewen Maddock trail network. Dirt and gravel crunched under our tyres and the tall trees enveloped us as we rounded the first corner down the double track. This was the beginning of the true core of the ride.

We hugged the shores of the Ewen Maddock Dam along the relatively flat double track veering of the main trail a short way in to try and maintain our view of the dam. All was well until eventually the track ended and we found ourselves in a swampy bog with head-high reeds sticking up out of the ground. Instinct told me to double back to the main trail but my curiosity got the better of me. We figured that we couldn’t be the first ones to have found ourselves at this dead end and that there had to be another trail. Luckily another one of the crew has keener eyes than me and spotter what we had hoped for. The narrow, sloshy track went through reeds, over logs and a couple of decent spider webs but a few hundred metres later we were back on the main trail again and thundering along at full speed.

We reached a few of the only pinch climbs of the ride. Racing to the tops of the steep hills, we had to pick our lines carefully in order to maintain the required momentum to get to the top without losing traction. Now it was just a matter of rolling back down and into the picnic area and kayak launching area of the dam. This was the approximate half way point and we stopped to drink, take in the view and go for a swim in the dam.

Refreshed and mostly dried off, we set off again towards Mooloolah Valley. The much appreciated concrete path took us the few kilometres into town with no need to touch the road. Being far enough away from the road but still running more or less next to it made it a really pleasant run. As we got closer to town, we still had hopes of being able to get some dinner but as we rolled in, we found that most places were shut now so we decided to keep rolling.

It was just about dark now so it was on with the lights, through the back of the town and into the northern side of the Dularcha National Park. After passing through the gate, a little way down the trail, we entered the Dularcha tunnel. I’ve been through this old, disused railway tunnel several times before but never before at this time of day and I was in for a surprise. I’d heard that microbats lived in the tunnel but hadn’t ever actually seen any. Until this evening. As we passed through the tunnel a small ruckus could be heard above us and then the tiny flying mammals started darting past our heads just as we began to see the light at the far side of the tunnel. It was hard to tell for sure but there would have to have been many hundreds of them probably stirring as they prepared to head out of the tunnel and into the night sky. This is when the evening really started to take on a surreal quality.

We rolled on out the other side of the tunnel and along the main trail through the Dularcha National Park into Landsborough again. Under the cover of darkness, with headlights blazing the way in front of us, we could have been anywhere in the world now flying in a dream state through this natural wonderland – on a bike tour in some far off land, racing for time in a bikepacking ultra race, searching the jungle for some lost archaeological site. All we had to do is keep our legs turning and let our imaginations run where they would.

Hunger was at the front of mind for most as we popped out of Dularcha and into Landsborough again. We weren’t keen on a big pub meal kind of affair but most other places were closed now. We searched around the town at found probably the only other place with the front light still on with the door open – the local IGA. It was going to be home time for them soon too though so we scoured the shop for sandwiches, pies, bars of whatever kind they had and something decent to drink. With stashes in hand, we were satisfied to stand outside the IGA and eat looking out into the night sky while the staff brought the signage inside and locked the door.

We were on the last leg of the journey now. Onward back to Beerwah through the still night we dashed along the deserted concrete path next to the road linked one behind the other by our headlight beams. Time seemed to stand still. Through Beerwah, along the singletrack next to the railway line and past the strawberry fields, under the railway line and up to the orchards. That would be the last climb of the evening as we roll back into Glasshouse Mountains township to end the ride.

Ride safe and see you out there sometime.