Day 144 - Unsuitable for caravans

Mt Garnet to Herberton 66km (810m of elevation gain)

The elevation profile of today's ride looks like a bread knife, constantly carving up and down.  We decided to risk taking the Silver Valley Rd to Herberton as it both shortens the overall distance to Cairns, and gets us off the hwy.  We have been sharing the highway with road trains, four wheel drivers and caravanners since Rolleston (Day 114).  And cows, who have proven to be both the most curious fellows on the road and surprisingly good fence jumpers, like they are show jumping in the Olympics.  This sign would suggest they are also capable of eating cars...

Things to watch out for...

The hill carving starts immediately on leaving the caravan park, the main road through Mt Garnet is an 8% grade, which sure, on a road bike is pretty cruisy, but on a fat tyred, fully loaded touring bike is a bit of an effort.  The hwy takes us uphill to Innot Hot Springs, naturally occurring 74-85C geothermal hot water.  Where we decide to risk the delay, despite having only 16kms done, and soak in the waters.  We progress through a series of hotter and hotter baths, until finishing off with a cool plunge.  Refreshed we get back on the bikes, a bit behind time but feeling great.

Soon enough we spot our relief from traffic noise and the dramas of caravans, who are the most frequent winners of our "idiot driver of the day awards", the sign for Silver Valley Rd clearly states "road unsuitable for caravans".  We take the turn and instantly leave the noise and diesel behind.  It doesn't take long to figure out why the road is unsuitable for caravans.  As we progress the surface gets worse, consisting mainly of an unpredictable mixture of hard rock, sand and sharp ups and downs over creek crossings.  We are trundling along at the grand speed of 6-8kms/hr, and I call time for lunch.  

It's now 2pm, and we still have 23km along the Silver Valley Rd to traverse...  I'm doing the maths in my tired brain, hoping that we can reach Herberton before it gets dark.  Remembering that we put the tent and our washed clothing away wet this morning after it rained overnight.  Things to look forward too!  A soggy tent and drying clothes by body heat.  I can't tell you how much I enjoy donning a damp outfit and getting into the sleeping bag hoping to dry the outfit overnight.

The ride descends into an experience not unlike childbirth, there is a lot of pushing and swearing involved, you have no one to blame except each other and there is no going back now.  We use every trick we know to avoid either ending our marriage or making other bad decisions while exhausted and boinking.

We finally, in the twilight and misty rain (of course) make it to Herberton.  And are faced with a dilemma.  Do we turn right into the town proper, and hope for a room and a meal at the pub, or do we turn left and head to the caravan park and eat the emergency dehydrated meal we always carry?  If we choose wrong it will add extra kilometres and some not insignificant climbs to the day...  

I decide that one more risk is worth it, and turn right, the chance of a room out of the rain and a pub meal is to good to pass up.  We push the bikes up another hill, and the pub is being renovated, no rooms.  BUT the public bar is full, it's Friday evening after all, and the locals start pitching suggestions, I suspect all the locals are in the bar.  A woman with a B&B just around the corner can accommodate us, no problem.  Despite the fact that at this point we are dirty, desperate and probably smelly, she is unfazed.  Walks us and our bikes to the house, the old Station Masters cottage.  Introduces us to Charlotte, the pig, and Foster, the dog, makes sure we have provisions for dinner and breakfast, tells great stories and is actually a life and marriage saver.

We listen to the rain come down from our vintage bedroom, and feel very lucky indeed.  You wouldn't get this in a caravan!