Gippsland Plains

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A challenging detour leads Sacha Payne to a hidden gem in the Gippsland Plains.

The platform is dark and almost silent, with only croaking frogs to greet us. My partner Greg and I are in Stratford on the last day of an old year, about to embark on a week of riding through the Gippsland Plains. We check out the local New Year’s Eve action – two guys playing pool and a lone guitarist – the audience instantly doubling with our arrival. We polish off a bottle of sparkling and the next morning jump on our bikes.

The road is empty and flat enough to lull us into an easy rhythm. We pass green fields and tall Red Gums, until one last steep downhill coasts us into the pretty town of Briagolong, at the foothills of the Great Dividing Range. Once a thriving gold and timber town, the train from Melbourne passed through here from the late 1880s until mid last century. The station now lies unused, the glory days long gone. But many of the historic buildings remain and are being carefully restored and maintained, including the Briagolong Hotel, established in 1874.

This is where the action was the night before and the locals are moving pretty slowly, but they still manage to rustle up their last serve of flathead tails and chips, which we demolish with a cold beer. The only other place that’s open is a shop selling trinkets and fabulous vintage clothes. Inquiries on where to camp turn to talk of the town’s talents and one of the ladies opens the art gallery across the road for a private viewing, where we buy a colourful linocut from a Briag artist.

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With my shopping addiction sated, we head into the bush and find a spectacular free camping site beside the heritage-listed Blue Pool. We spend two lazy days swimming and enjoying the deep and cold pool. We also hike to old gold mines through the Stringybark forest around the lovely Freestone Creek. Gold was first discovered here in 1864 and the entrances to some of the old mining shafts can still be seen on walks in the area, along with the chimney from a miner’s hut.

After our second night we’re running low on provisions so reluctantly drag ourselves away, just as crowds begin to arrive with armfuls of sun-shelters, eskies and water toys. Before long we are back in town and heading west. We’re stopped at the petrol station by an elderly resident on an old road bike, who is keen to know where we are off to. He scoffs at our low mileage so far and tells us he’s ridden a 100km-plus circuit of the area before breakfast.
We head into dairy country.

The cows watch us inquisitively, but there are few other signs of life. The day gets steamy and our wheels whirr along the hot bitumen until we arrive in tiny Boisdale for lunch. The cicadas are firing up and we’re keen to avoid the midday sun, so we linger over crackers and cheese, before pointing our bikes south towards Maffra.

Set on the Macalister River, Maffra is the biggest town we’ve seen for a couple of days. It has around 4,000 residents and is a major agricultural centre for surrounding districts, although like Briag, the train no longer runs through here. The Metropolitan Hotel has cheap rooms and hot showers and it feels good to wash away the river dirt and day’s ride before going downstairs for a drink.

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The next morning the Maffra market is in full swing. We buy a kilo of delicious local cherries, which are meant to be for dinner but never make it out of the market.

It’s another 12km to Newry, where the man behind the counter at the corner-shop/post-office/newsagent is helpful and chatty. He draws us a mud map of how to get to his favourite place in the world, a spot on the Avon River called Huggett’s Crossing. It’s a pretty easy ride, he says. Gravel, but recently graded and smooth enough for our commuters. He tells us it’s about an hour’s ride to get there, a small climb, and then a short downhill to the river. It sounds perfect, so we set off.

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By now it’s hot and the small climb soon turns into the side of a mountain. Before we know it we’re pushing the commuters and panniers up a dusty, then sandy, then rutted gravel track. The easy ride is suddenly much tougher, but we don’t want to go back now. We push on for three hours and then down the other side. This part of the track is even worse. A steady stream of trail bikes and four-wheel-drive vehicles pass us, each one sending plumes of dust into our faces. At one point a ute stalls in front of me, its muffler resting idly in the tray having not survived the trip intact. Finally we make it to the river just as it gets dark.

The four-wheel-drive crowd looks at us incredulously, but we’ve made it, pretty much in one piece, and it is a gorgeous spot. I spend much of the next few days plotting revenge on the Newry shopkeeper, but also finish a trashy novel and spend a lot of time floating in the river.

For the return trip Greg is keen for the challenge and sets off early on one of the bikes. But I can’t face the climb and get a lift in an air-brushed jeep with a tattoo artist named Serge. A couple of years ago Serge almost died in a trail bike accident and he has had several limbs reconstructed. He tells me about the painful months of rehabilitation and how he taught himself to write and draw again. Serge saw us on our way into Huggett’s Crossing and thought we were insane.

Back on our bikes, the bitumen is popping in the heat. Our ride takes us though Tinamba and Nambrok, with a stop for lunch under a bridge on the Thomson River, before the final leg to Rosedale. The friendly publican at the Rosedale Hotel says he has no rooms tonight, but offers us free showers, pillows and a campsite in the backyard with the sheep for company. It feels like luxury and is a fitting end to our week on the Gippsland Plains. I doubt we lost any of our post-Christmas kilos, but our ride proves you don’t have to be too fit or rich to have an adventure on your bike in your own backyard.

Sacha Payne has been working as a print and radio journalist for more than 17 years. She has been an avid cycle commuter since dispensing with her car several years ago.

 

Getting there

Stratford is on the River Avon, 232km east of Melbourne on the Princes Highway.

By train

Take the V-line train from Southern Cross on the Bairnsdale line. There are three trains Mon-Sat, and two on Sunday. One way tickets start from $22.20 off-peak. Some services are free around New Year’s Eve/Day.

For timetables and pricing go to www.vline.com.au

Route

From Stratford we rode to Briagolong. Ask at the pub for directions to Blue Pool in the Briagolong State Forest. There is plenty of free camping along Freestone Creek. From there we rode to Maffra, then Newry and Huggetts Crossing on the Avon River, then onto Rosedale via Tinamba. Any good Victorian road map should do.

This ride is mapped on Bikely: www.bikely.com/maps/bike-path/Stratford-to-Rosedale

For more

www.visitvictoria.com

 

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