Cycling Around Australia

One woman, one bike, one continent – and one sore backside. We sat down with Kate Leeming after she cycled around Australia to find out what keeps her wheels turning.

How would you compare the challenges riding around Australia to your Trans-Siberian ride?

In Russia we were travelling into virtually the unknown. In 1993, the country was undergoing massive political, economic and social upheaval as communism broke down. Prior to this time it was impossible for Westerners to get permission to travel unrestricted within Russia as many regions were “closed".

Over a distance of 3500km between Halls Creek and Perth, I only had to camp wild (free) four times, the rest of the time I stayed on stations and farms. It was a really special part of the journey. Even on the road, people would stop to see if I needed any water or food.

We always travelled withat least one Russian cyclist to help us with language and general safety. We never had problems finding enough calories, but had extremely limited fresh food and the quality of our diet in Russia was poor. My diet in remote parts of Australia was better, but also far from optimal.

The GRACE Expedition was almost twice the length of the Trans-Siberian Cycle Expedition; 9.5 months versus five months at a similar intensity.

In Russia there was the Swamp – approximately 1500km in eastern Siberia where there were no roads marked on our US air military maps, and where we had to follow the Trans-Siberian railway line to navigate our way through. We travelled for days with freezing, waterlogged feet. The major obstacle in the Australian expedition was the CSR. Almost 2000km in length, it traverses four deserts and approximately 1000 sand dunes. Here I was battling through temperatures in excess of 40 degrees and where the temperature radiating from the sand can reach 60 degrees, burning my feet.

In Russia I was learning more about a very different culture; in Australia I was learning more about my own culture. Interestingly, I learned that the many of the images I had of the Soviet Union during the Cold War were similar to the images our Russian friends had of us during that time. The generosity in both countries, especially in remote regions was constantly humbling.

25,000km. Nine and a half months cycling Around Australia . How many bikes/equipment did you go through?

The same sturdy mountain bike made it all the way; a standard, off-the-peg Giant XTC3 with all suspension removed for maximum strength and ‘bomb-proof’ Tubus rear and front low-rider racks attached.

The Canning Stock Route presented many of the best and worst parts.

I changed the working parts three times; the chain, gear cassette, chainwheel and derailleur, which wear out, especially on the rough tracks. I used high quality tyres – the road tyres were good for over 10 000km, but I went through a fair number of the softer ‘off road’ tyres, which were very fat to deal with the sand and corrugations. It blows people’s minds now if I ride that bike to work with the odometer reading over 27,000km!

Your book Out There and Back features a section on the Canning Stock Route (CSR), during which you write an extensive day-to-day log. Were there days when you were just too tired to write?

I always made an effort to write something, even if it was abbreviated to a few key words and phrases. Looking back over my diaries, especially the CSR entries, it’s apparent just how exhausted I was; some sentences don’t make sense, I’ve forgotten to finish off words or written off the page with an illegible scrawl.

Camping near Well 19, and later at Well 39, I fell asleep sitting upright at the table, mid-sentence.

How do you train yourself physically and mentally to prepare for a journey like this?

After some 30,000km of bicycle travel, prior organising and completing the GRACE Expedition I already had a good idea of what I was getting myself into. Having battled though extreme tiredness, muscular pain and insatiable hunger associated with starting out on previous escapades without adequate preparation, I’d promised myself I’d be better physically prepared for the Australian expedition.

While I maintained my usual good base level of fitness in the gym and did manage to test myself with a couple of longer 130km rides (on my racing bike without 30kg of extra load), my physical training was totally inadequate because the last three months of organising the project (expedition logistics, website, sponsors, education program etc) was manic, especially as I also had to work fulltime.

I was completely exhausted at the start, stressed and suffering from a distinct lack of sleep. However, nothing really ever prepares you anyway for such an intense workload, day after day. The first couple of weeks were a case of biting the bullet; pacing myself, finding a rhythm and developing little techniques to occupy my mind while in the saddle for six to eight hours a day.

What was the best and worst part of your journey?

The best general highlights included: the adventure, the space and time, the simplicity, the clarity of the desert particularly at dawn and dusk, the characters I met along the journey – especially staying on the remote outback stations, the supreme, “indestructible" feeling of fitness, the satisfaction and the natural high at the end of every day’s effort.

The most tedious annoyances included: the flies, a constantly sore backside, headwinds, the rigmarole of packing and unpacking – squeezing everything into four small panniers – wearing the same worn-out, smelly clothes every day, the almost constant veil of tiredness, camping food, and people claiming I was mad without at least trying to understand what I was doing.

The Canning Stock Route presented many of the best and worst parts.

Can you tell us about some of the injuries you sustained on the trip?

I managed to avoid any injury bad enough to stop me for any length of time. There were plenty of minor injuries, which made things uncomfortable. On the third last day I skinned my elbow, wrist, shoulder and hip after a headfirst tumble down a gravel hairpin in the Snowy Mountains.

On the Gunbarrel Highway and the CSR I came off countless times, regularly landing on sharp spinifex spines, which break off under the skin and result in minor infections.

A severe bout of dehydration caused a painful urinary tract infection a few days later and in the south west of WA I was stopped for a couple of days with a violent stomach bug which weakened me for a couple of weeks. In Russia I broke a rib on the Steppe, but continued (in extreme discomfort); it gradually repairing over the next six weeks.

You rode alone for the second half of the trip. How was the solitude compared to having Greg with you?

I asked Greg if he would like to join me for the GRACE Expedition because I knew we were very compatible when it comes to cycling and after the Russian expedition, we knew each other’s strengths, weaknesses and idiosyncrasies well.

Travelling with someone means plenty of give and take, making concessions. While our cycling partnership was very strong, I was eager to head off on my own on the CSR, in my own space and going at my own pace. I enjoyed listening to my own body, not having to deal with any complaints, tensions or snoring.

In general I like travelling alone, but in doing so there was no one to help share the load or share your experiences.

Meal times in particular can be a bit lonely. Travelling alone down the west coast was not as lonely as one might imagine given the distances between any type on civilisation.

What are some tips you’d give for people wanting to start out on some epic bike journeys?

Be sure of what you’d like to achieve and why. If times get tough, knowing the answers to these questions will help pull you through. Spend time researching your journey – type of terrain, expected range of weather conditions, find out where your food and water might come from, culture of the region, political situation etc.

Choose equipment that can cope with the most testing conditions you think you will face. Think of your worst-case scenarios and have a plan to deal with them. Have flexibility within your plan – situations and conditions can change. Try a smaller journey first so that you have some idea of your capabilities. Choose compatible travel companions with like-minded goals.

Were there any moments where you thought “what am I doing?"

When I was lying in the tent very early in the morning, with the promise of another long hot scorcher and a long, lonely road ahead; the tent walls bowing with what was obviously going to be a vicious head wind.

The morning after an extreme bout of dehydration on Day 10 of the CSR when I felt physically exhausted, mentally and emotionally drained. I sat down in the sand as if on strike and had to reason with myself, think the whole challenge of the stock route through.

After just crossing the Nullarbor and 20,000km complete, my husband announced during a phone call that he was going to leave me. This totally knocked the stuffing out of me and I wondered how I was going to exist let alone finish the last 5000km of the expedition.

Do you remember the first bike you ever had?

Not counting the three-wheelers which were handed down from my older brothers and sisters, the first bike I had, I earned by collecting cow and sheep manure and selling it to people who lived in the nearest town to fertilise their gardens. I used to get $7 per ute load and my first bike, a second hand dragster complete with plastic “flower power" seat, all the rage in the ‘70s, was worth four loads of manure.

The Great Ocean Road has captured the hearts of Australians with its astounding scenery since 1932, but going off-course can enrich your experience with untouched nature, foodie delights and charming towns.

It’s a chilly 16 degrees. My husband pulls on a steamer and jogs – as all seasoned surfers do – into the water. We’re at Bells Beach , the legendary break on Victoria’s Surf Coast that’s home to the Rip Curl Pro, the world’s longest-running event in competitive surfing. Each year, over the Easter long weekend, up to 40,000 people descend on the region for the event. Today, though, we have the beach almost to ourselves, and the less-than-favourable temperature doesn’t deter my husband from surfing this famous break.

Torquay to Anglesea and Aireys Inlet

The red dome of Split Point Lighthouse in Aireys Inlet. (Image: Tourism Australia)

The nearby surf town of Torquay marks the starting point for the Great Ocean Road . Unfolding our map, which we have marked out with a highlighted route for our children to follow, we set off for lesser-known Anglesea, a chilled-out town 20 minutes south of here. Its wide, sandy beach is a gentler swimming option for our young family. Groms can learn to surf here with Go Ride a Wave, which also runs stand-up paddle boarding on the Anglesea River.

Split point lookout — The lighthouse overlooks the Shipwreck Coast. (Image: Tourism Australia)

After a couple of nights in Anglesea, we hit the road again, first stopping at Aireys Inlet. Here we stretch our legs at Split Point Lighthouse, which was made famous by the 1990s television series Round the Twist, before driving under the Memorial Arch that welcomes us, officially, to the Great Ocean Road.

This 243-kilometre coastal road was built by returned First World War servicemen and serves as a permanent memorial to those who fought and died during the war. Carved into rock using hand tools and horse-drawn carts, it was a huge engineering feat and provided much-needed access to isolated coastal communities.

Lorne to Birregurra

Lorne is a delightful beachside stop for lunch and browsing boutique stores. It’s also the gateway to Great Otway National Park , which comprises a varied landscape of old-growth forests, cool-temperate rainforests, heathy woodlands and rugged coast. With the highest rainfall in Victoria, the region is home to many waterfalls – 10 of which are within 10 kilometres of Lorne.

Turning slightly off the main drag, we wind along a gum-shaded road to Erskine Falls. Here, our son leads the way through the hyper-green rainforest and down 200-plus stairs to the cascade that drops 30 metres into a lush fern gully. We hop over large boulders to get closer to the falls, enjoying the entire place to ourselves; it’s worth the return climb.

From Sheoak Falls Picnic Area, there are walking trails to Henderson Falls, Phantom Falls, Won Wondah Falls and Kalimna Falls, some of which follow an old timber tramway from forest-logging days, which only came to an end in 2008.

You can follow your appetite north to the town of Birregurra, which is part of the Otway Harvest Trail that connects farm gates, markets, wineries, breweries and distilleries. It’s home to three-hatted modern Australian restaurant Brae , helmed by celebrated chef Dan Hunter, set among native gardens and an organic farm, and Otways Distillery, which produces small-batch spirits using local produce and botanicals.

Brae restaurant — Brae is a three-hatted restaurant in Birregurra. (Image: Tourism Australia)

Apollo Bay to The Otways

Back on track, the cliff-hugging stretch between Lorne and Apollo Bay is breathtaking. At Teddys Lookout, we overlook the winding road ahead and St George River spilling into the ocean. We spend languid days in Apollo Bay, a buzzy seaside town that boasts a three-kilometre-long, crescent-shaped beach with a backdrop of rolling green hills. One evening, as the sun sets, we take the steep 10-minute walk to Marriners Lookout, which affords panoramic views of the ocean, hinterland and town.

A 15-minute drive along the road, Maits Rest is a lush rainforest gully that has been protected since the early 20th century. Wandering along the 800-metre boardwalk, we inspect the delicate moss-covered forest floor and the gnarled roots of 300-year-old myrtle beech trees, then crane our necks to see their canopies, some 50 metres above us. It’s therapy in nature.

Cape Otway to the Twelve Apostles

The southernmost tip of Cape Otway is a delightful detour, home to the 1848-built Cape Otway Lightstation, the oldest surviving lighthouse on mainland Australia. We climb the narrow winding staircase to the gallery deck, explore the keepers’ quarters and telegraph station, and enjoy a coffee and some ‘famous’ scones at the charming onsite cafe.

It’s a pinch-me moment to finally see the Twelve Apostles in person. This unmistakable cluster of limestone stacks rising abruptly from the sea were never 12, however. When coined this in the 1890s as a marketing ploy, there were only nine; today, only seven remain after two collapsed in 2005 and 2009. We admire these Aussie icons from the viewing platform, in awe of Mother Nature’s ever-evolving artwork.

The Grotto is another natural attraction within Port Campbell National Park. (Image: Carmen Zammit)

Edging the wild Southern Ocean, this part of the coast – dubbed Shipwreck Coast – is made up of many sea-carved natural wonders including London Bridge, The Grotto and Gibson Steps. After exploring the lookout trails of Loch Ard Gorge/Poombeeyt Kontapool – its English name taken from the site of the 1878 shipwreck – we nestle into the sandy beach encircled by towering sandstone cliffs, as our children splash about on the water’s edge, and soak it all in.

Port Campbell to Timboon

Timboon Fine Ice Cream is part of a regional foodie trail. (Image: C McConville)

Just north of Port Campbell National Park, the region of Timboon is part of the 12 Apostles Food Artisans Trail, filled with purveyors of delicious foodstuffs such as Timboon Fine Ice Cream , Timboon Railway Shed Distillery and Apostle Whey Cheese. As an antidote to the indulgence, the 20-kilometre Poorpa Yanyeen Meerreeng Trail is a self-guided ride or walk between Port Campbell and Timboon through tall forests, over historic bridges and past sparkling lakes and farmland with grazing cattle.

Warrnambool to Port Fairy

Warrnambool building — A 19th-century building in Warrnambool. (Image: Peter Foster)

In Warrnambool, a town rich in maritime history, we take the four-kilometre Thunder Point Walk that traces the coast. The kids squeal when an echidna shuffles out from beneath the wooden boardwalk, and we stop to admire a seal lazing on a rock at the port.

Further along, the streets of quaint fishing village Port Fairy are lined with 19th-century cottages, old stone churches and Norfolk pines. Follow the historic walking trail to see some of the 60-plus National Trust buildings. Port Fairy is also home to Port Fairy Folk Festival (6-9 March), one of the country’s longest-running music and cultural festivals. You could time your road trip with the event for a fittingly celebratory end to any journey.

The Great Ocean Road can easily be done in three days, but we’ve spent a week on the road. The highlighted line on our now creased and well-worn map doesn’t follow the famous route precisely. It has sprouted branches in many directions, leading us to untouched rainforest and charming rural towns filled with culinary delights, and where we experienced some of our most memorable moments on the Great Ocean Road.

A traveller’s checklist

Staying there

The Monty is a highly anticipated, newly refurbished motel with a chic Palm Springs-inspired aesthetic set across the road from the Anglesea River. Basalt Winery in Port Fairy grows cool-climate wines such as pinot noir and Riesling in rich volcanic soil. Stay among the vines in its tiny home, complete with a kitchen, lounge area and outdoor firepit.

The Oak & Anchor Hotel has been a Port Fairy institution since 1857. Cosy up by the bar in winter or bask in the sunshine of the Lawn Bar in summer. The rooms are beautifully boutique with considered details, such as luxe baths for sinking into post-road trip.

Eating there

The Coast in Anglesea is a modern Australian restaurant focused on local ingredients. Grand Pacific Hotel has been a local landmark in Lorne since 1879 and recently underwent a restoration. It serves a mix of traditional pub and Italian fare alongside ocean views.

Graze is a cosy 40-seat dining room in Apollo Bay with a modern Australian menu complemented by regional wines. Apollo Bay Distillery offers tasting flights, a gin blending masterclass and serves woodfired pizzas.