Mawson Trail

Day 1 Adelaide to Tanunda (115.8km)

Endless vinyards in the Barossa Valley

Despite South Australia being the driest state in the driest continent I set off in pouring rain rain. It was most surreal commencing my long journey alongside the River Torren, under its many bridges, in the rain as a city slept.

The official start of the Mawson Trail was at Gorge Road. No sooner that I was on the rough stuff than I was off and pushing. This happened repeatedly during the initial brutal 15km, 600 vertical metre climb.

Past Cudlee Creek the trail flattened out and descended to Lobethal where I ate a huge bacon roll.

18 undulating kilometres of mainly unsealed road took me to Birdwood where I stocked up on food and water for the next long stretch.

Some flat pleasant tracks around Mount Crawford Forest lead me towards the long windy slog up the Barossa Range. Drinking long and hard and cracking open the snakes I found some energy from somewhere and suddenly I was at Pewsey Vale looking out over the Barossa Valley far below me. An even windier, madcap descent took me to Tanunda for the night.

Over a very basic, tasty cheap meal in a restaurant in town the proprietress consoled me on being single and hoped that I met someone nice soon. She seemed reluctant to volunteer her daughter, waiting on tables, for this role.

Day 2 Tanunda to Clare (104.5km)

The tarp in action

I lay in bed this morning for two hours in agony. When I finally roused my slothful figure I discovered the terrible bed in my rented static home was the source of my discomfort not the previous day’s exertions.

After an easy first hour I turned east and spent the rest of the day slogging away into a persistent headwind. After a late lunch at Auburn the Mawson Trail joined the Reisling Trail which seemed to offer some shelter from the wind.

First night sleeping under the tarp tonight. Only problem is that I need trees to pitch it and the red gum trees in this area, or widow makers as they are locally known, have a tendency to drop large branches.

Day 3 Clare to Wirrabara (111.5km)

A storming first hour without any wind took me to Yacka. The scenery and trail in this area are rather uninspiring (endless flat wheat fields) so I have decided to take a significant short cut to give myself plenty of time to enjoy the Flinders.

After a brief snack stop at Georgetown I stopped for lunch in Gladstone. In contrast to the touristy and winery dominated towns if the Barossa and Clare Valleys these grain towns are sparse and functional.

With most of the day’s mileage complete I stopped for coffee and cake in Laura. Here I spent and amusing couple of hours chatting with the shop owner and a couple of locals.

18 easy kilometres up the road and I was in Wirrabara. The bush camp was shut because of the early fire ban so I camped on the football field.

Day 4 Wirrabara to Quorn (93km)

Looking down on Quorn

Grey cool day with spots of rain. Steady enough cycling on flat roads as the Flinders gradually rode up around me. Through sleepy but pleasant Melrose onto strange Wilmington for lunch.

A really grim afternoon battling the wind and inner demons, the later of which was by far the strongest. The distance eventually crawled by and I made into dusty, faded Quorn.

Day 5 Quorn to Hawker (68.8km)

After a lie in and a large breakfast I set off on the straight as a die highway. The only excitement was the odd car passing every hour or so. The wind, a headwind naturally, steadily increased until I was just about at a standstill when I toppled into Hawker.

I had a gruesome kebab for lunch, a wee lie down and then out to the excellent Old Ghan Restaurant for tea. The food was top quality (roo with a mustard and wattleseed sauce followed by apple and quandong pastry) and the chef even better value. Periodically he would emerge from the kitchen, smashed, and hurl abuse at the waiter, locals at the bar and customers in equal measure.

Day 6 Hawker to Wipena (58.5km)

Anticipated as the highlight of the trip, today turned out to be something of a damp squib. In light drizzle, under threatening skies I rolled onto the deserted Wilpena Road. Contrary to the forecast there was a head wind.

About 15km short of Wilpena it started to bucket it down. I waited for an hour so in the tiny shelter at the National Park entry passing time grey nomads and declining a lift from Ranger Bob.

When the worse of the rain had passed I continued to Wilpena.

In the afternoon I hiked up to the lookout over Wilenpa Pound; a completely, circular flat area of land surrounded on all sides by towering mountains. Low clouds obscured the tops but it was still fairly impressive.

Day 7 Wilpena to Blinman (68.4km)

The final leap and a marked improvement on what came before. I was soon on muddy singletrack in the company of emus and kangaroos. A rip roaring descent on a rough 4WD track took me to the bottom of Bungeroo Gorge. I crawled up to the lookout points before hitting the singletrack to Elatina Hut for smoko.

All that now remained of the Mawson Trail was 29km of uphill slog on a corrugated road. For once the wind was at my back.

At 610m above sea level Blinman is the highest town in South Australia. The final Mawson Trail sign pointed me into a pub. I think Graeme would’ve approved.

Day 8 Blinman to Parachilna (32.3km)

Singletrack near Wilpena

The Flinders

My ride was not quite finished. I had arranged my lift back to civilisation from Parachilna on the highway.

The advantage about being in the highest town in SA is that it must all be downhill from there. A rough unsealed road took me through Parachilna Gorge, as scenic as anything so far on the trip.

Soon enough I was back on the flat plain with Parachilna a speck on the horizon and the Flinders Ranges behind me.

I enjoyed the best cup of coffee in the Flinders at the Parachilna Hotel where I seemed to be more of a celebrity than usual before my lift to Port Augustus and then the bus back to Adelaide.

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