A lot of trees on the Bonang Road

From Orbost, taking the smaller road up to Bombala to get to the east coast rather than along the busy highway via Cann River was the best decision. (Thank you Jason).

The distance to reach the coast is more or less the same for both options. However, the Bombala route is much hillier, lying in the high country of East Gippsland and we had quite a bit of trepidation about taking this route up up up and over… but we ended up loving it! And it meant we got to meet a very shy and elusive creature.

The Bonang Road takes you 100 miles up to Bombala - (bomb-baah-la) the biggest town - with overnights for us at the remote Goongerah camp ground, the small town of Delegate and two nights at Bombala. The Mount Darragh Road then took us over and down to Wyndham (fantastic overnight!) before a short ride to Merimbula on the Sapphire Coast (where we are now as I write this). Along the route you have the magnificent ancient forests of Errinundra National Park to the road’s east and Snowy River National Park to its west, before leaving the tree cover and rolling over the top of the open Monaro plains.

I was not sad to leave Orbost - I found it a strange town with a creepy vibe. Later looking online I found this feeling may have been justified: the crime rate is much higher than average, and a recent police operation in June arrested folk for firearms manufacturing, drug trafficking, and the supply of illicit tobacco. A cyclist described it as an odd mix of “counter-culture (the Goongerah crowd), hard-nosed rudeness (the loggers and bikers) and meth-heads (I've never seen so many prematurely aged faces).” (*counter-culture = “greenies” who moved to the area as anti-logging protesters in the 1980s and stayed).

We were prepared for a remote experience up to Bombala. There are no services and only a basic (very expensive) store at Delegate, and so had stocked up on food in Orbost the night before. We had the road to ourselves and counted only 5 cars and 5 motorbikes all day on the Sunday, and about double that on the Monday as we came into Delegate.

I had not expected the forest to be so bewitching. We had already experienced a lot of forest on our travels, but there was an unusual peacefulness and magic here. The road took us through some of the largest remaining stands of mixed old growth forest in which giant eucalypts tower over rainforest understorey and fern-filled gullies, dominated by Shining Gum and Cuttail. The trees were spectacular - a bright shining white stretching up to the sky - and got better and better the further into the wilderness we biked.

The first day’s gradient was an easy steady one and we reached Goongerah much earlier than we’d anticipated, at about 3 in the afternoon. Goongerah is a locality rather than a town, stretching for some distance along the road, not really perceptible except for the odd postbox, dirt track into the bush, or few buildings glimpsed through trees. The campground is at the northerly end, and we were pleased that here the swarms of flying insects we’d cycled through in pockets all the way up were not here. Not sure what they were: but the day’s warm conditions must have been perfect for them to bloom in emerging clouds of wings. Harmless but increasingly irritating as they hit the back of your throat and stuck to our sweaty foreheads!

The free wild campground at Goongerah consisted of an area of cleared grass under the trees by a river, with a drop toilet, fire pits, picnic benches and … a wonderful raised shelter. Being the only ones here except for a couple in a caravan down by the river, we set up home in the shelter for the night. Perfection. Wombat signs were all around, the gentle wind rustled rippling leaves, and bird calls of all kinds weaved a tapestry of sound around us. A very special place. The evening descended through a pink opal sky into a deep dark velvet, lit with the burst of a huge full cream moon rising above the hillside treeline. Frog songs lulled us to sleep.

The morning broke bright and blue to the familiar kookaburra alarm. Feeling drugged by the tranquility of the place we were slow to pack up, smiling up into trees at the birds and lazily supping hot tea. Our caravan neighbours packed up before us and stopped to chat as they drove up the track past our hut to the road above. A gentle retired couple, they had been travelling round Australia now for seven years - two years recently spent just exploring Western Australia - and “they still had so much to see.” I reckon they’ll go at least another seven.

The day was warm (low 20s) and the ride up to Delegate was a lot tougher. Consisting of two hills, one eight miles and another of six, both continuous climbs with a harder gradient than the day before. Later in the afternoon we peaked at the highest point on the road: a satisfying 961 meters (3153 ft). Definitely fatiguing, but we were rewarded by beautiful moments… Kangaroos hopping along beside us and then across the road in front. Large sprays of bright flowers painting the forest yellow and purple. Towering Spring Gums rising 60-90m above us, dwarfing our existence, and subtly competing with American redwoods for sheer height - they are the tallest flowering trees in the world. Lilz saw the prickly behind of an echidna as it shuffled into the long grass. Also, freaking me out, the sight of a large black snake slithering away from the road through dry crackling leaves.

We crossed the state border: a sad goodbye to beautiful Victoria, hello New South Wales!

Delegate was a small hamlet. As we were tired, I went over to the pub to enquire if they did meals. The place was as traditional Australian backwater as they come, the bar flies staring silently at me as a fast verbal meal list was fired in my direction by the landlady. I didn’t catch much except a very meaty impression - steak, lamb cutlets, Parmesan schnitzel.

We cycled on to the campground, having bought a tin of tomatoes and onion to have with our pasta. The campsite is nestled in the bend of the river and the evening light was soft and golden. As soon as we stopped to look, there it was!

Concentric circles rippling the river’s surface. A chain of neatly formed bubbles. A breach of a nose. The wee rounded brown oddity that is the platypus. Rare to see. Rarer to see at such close quarters. Just a glimpse here. Another there. An impression of silky fur. Beak. Webbed foot. Doing its merry thing, right in front of us.

We slept in the camp kitchen. The electric meter had been vandalised the evening before and there was no power - so no lights, kettle, stove or hot water. Which was fine for us: we had bore water (which we had to boil), toilets, and our own stove, and it meant we got to stay for free.

Having left the forest behind, we were now cycling up on the high plains and when we crested a hill in the road we were often greeted by vast open far reaching views. The sun still shone and we felt free.

As we approached Bombala the traffic increased, with loud rumbling logging trucks giving little quarter.

Lunchtime found us in Bombala, having climbed 9200ft total ascent, and with a slice of cake in our immediate future. We would spend tomorrow here to rest the sore knees, before heading onwards down to the coast.

AmandaRead more