Murray to Mountains rail trail with our kids

April 22, 2021

Murray to Mountains rail trail with our kids

Easter fell during our school holidays this year and we took advantage of the extra time by heading off on some far flung adventures. Our first week was spent on a short bike tour in Victoria, our neighbouring state. The drive to the rail trail we rode is roughly ten hours (at our pace) from Newcastle. For the first nine hours of the trip, google maps kept telling us that Victoria could have entry restrictions due to COVID. Blithely we minimized the annoying announcement to read the map and nut our journey there. You could have predicted the panic that broke out in the car as we sailed toward the border and passed a digital sign that informed us of the expectation that all interstate visitors must arrive with a permit. Which we clearly didn't have.

We snuck through (there were no road blocks) with Mountain Dad frantically completing an online permit as we drove. A permit that once obtained, was never asked for during our visit to Victoria. In this new life post-pandemic, it felt like we were adventuring to a far-flung, foreign place.

Despite the angst on arrival, Victoria was supremely kind to us. We sought the Murray to Mountains rail trail which meanders from Wangaratta to Bright. Clever clogs that we are, we chose to make our tour the 'Mountains to Murray,' which, though the gradient was very slight, still found us on a more downward trend from the mountains on our way to the river. The trail is roughly 100km of beautifully maintained cycle paths that are well signposted and scenic. They lead you through quirky towns and by bakeries, cheese factories, a mustard factory and most importantly, vineyards. We started our tour in Beechworth, which is actually up a 16km steep spur. Due to the incredible generosity of our Warmshowers host, Fraser, we were able to ride down this scenic section without our gear at the start of our first day. Fraser met us at the bottom with our car and gear, where the spur met the man rail trail. Together we drove up the rail trail to its other mountain terminating point. Our start point.

It was a late departure and as usual, we had tarried in our planning and organizing of the trip and so, because of Easter, there was no accommodation for us along the way. This meant that we had no other option except to free camp (or wild camp) along the way, a plan that seemed more challenging given the fact that this area is relatively populated. Lots of people means lots of fences and very little access to tucked away wild spaces that might shelter a family of weary cyclists. You could tell by the gleam in Mountain Dad's eye, that instead of being daunted by this prospect, he was thrilled by the challenge. And predictably, he sniffed us out a couple of beautiful camping spots. One was nestled in a clearing of towering eucalyptus tree's. Another was by the side of a river. He was so flushed with success that he even deigned to allow us a commercial campsite one night which was heaven in a warm shower.

Our days were hot and happy. The trail a dream to ride. There was one small hill pass to climb, but it was over before we really noticed. On my favourite day, we hit a small vineyard just as they opened. Thinking we'd sample a few before the crowds arrived, we were disappointed to learn that they were fully booked but we could, if we so desired, buy a glass of wine and sit out on the grass to enjoy it. What was offered as a consolation prize was a far better option given that we could roll our rugrats out onto the lawn without worrying about bothering others. Additionally, we could then bring our own picnic goods, so we unloaded the bike trailer and made ourselves at home.

One glass led to a bottle and my ride down the driveway was made with a tad more abandon than my ride up. On reaching the bottom of the hill, we stopped to peruse a road side honesty stall. You know the kind, they usually sell seasonal produce or eggs. This one friends, well this one spoke to your author's heart. It sang out at me like a flower to a bee. It sold earrings, friends. Earrings. I couldn't believe the serendipity. Honestly, if I could have anything sold at a roadside honesty stall, earrings must surely be my preferred item.

I crowed. I glowed.

I may very well have been tipsy.

I bought a couple of pairs, nonetheless. And promptly forgot to forward the payment to the details left on the table (though I did manage to do it a few days ago, thank you for your patience kind earring lady).

All in all, the trip was so delightful and convivial that it makes for the most boring of tales to tell.

Pray tell dear ones, what would be on your fantasy roadside honestly stall?

The Beechworth spur of the Murray To Mountains Rail Trail. 16km of bush downhill.

Road side ear ring delicious dilemma! A rare moment of sibling serenity.

Vineyard lunch with wine and room to romp.

The 100km mark. A hot day, based on the sweaty features of these sweet creatures.

In the words of a dear friend, "despite how dorky the vests are, that is possibly my favourite family picture of you guys." This was at the end of the tour, just as we reached the car. Hot, but happy.

First day of cycling. About to leave the car and Fraser, our chivalrous chauffeur.

Lox leant his bike against a tree one night and in the morning it had been swarmed by angry ants. It took some Mama-skill to remove them and the air was full of the smell of dead ant. A new scent to the rest of my family, but for me the smell of childhood.