This month marks the second anniversary of A Bike for All Seasons. Two years of cycling through the seasons sharing stories about bicycle lifestyle.
A Bike for All Seasons began from a decision to use my bicycle more in everyday life and drive my car less. I started this blog to capture the change that resulted from that choice. A choice that was an experiment in lifestyle change.
The experiment began on 1st December 2014. I committed myself to the project for a year: four seasons of cycling and sharing stories. When I finished the year on 30th November 2015, I was pleasantly surprised at where my bicycle had taken me. Click here to read more.
So this month marks another year! My bicycle has taken me on wonderful adventures again this year. Some from around the streets of Australia’s Gold Coast where I live. Others elsewhere exploring rail trails in winter, the Tweed Valley caldera in summer, and the streets of Oslo in a Norwegian spring.
I’m particularly grateful to the growing community of people who follow, read, share and invigorate the stories and photos these adventures bring. Thank you!
Well I better get on my bike. It’s time to head south for the Great Victorian Bike Ride – #GreatVic Ahead 🙂
Final tuneup for the bike before leaving for the GreatVic.
Clouds lingered overhead and tickled the humidity to life. I sweated. The promise of rain didn’t deliver and my ride up the Tallebudgera Valley was a warm and sticky one. Yet it wasn’t the weather that made this bike ride memorable. It was the bird life.
The Tallebudgera Valley runs inland from West Burleigh for about 21kms. The road climbs steadily kicking up into small hills along the way. It’s a good route for training for the Great Vic.
As we pedal inland, Tallebudgera Creek criss-crosses the road. Tall white gums stand straight like telephone poles. Ferns and palms hug the roadside cuttings with damp delight. There are paddocks dotted by cows (and a couple of bulls who bellowed as we passed, making me grateful for fences and avoiding a repeat of my misadventure on the Brisbane Valley Rail Trail).
But the birds left a trail on my memory.
Fleeting moments of wings and colour flashed across our paths as we pedalled the valley. We saw Crimson Rosellas, Pale-headed Rosellas, King Parrots and two Azure Kingfishers. There were Magpies and Butcherbirds, Kookaburras and Currawongs. Wrens and Yellow Robins flitted in the undergrowth. A Brown Cuckoo-Dove clambered onto a branch and fanned its tail.
I have no photos to share of the birds. Me on wheels. Them on wings. We’re all moving somewhere. Our paths cross for a moment. Yet the colours and flight echo brightly in my memory.
Here’s a short video of my ride in the Tallebudgera Valley:
It’s wider, smoother and wearing stainless steel railings. Currumbin’s hidden rail trail has reopened! Renewed and revitalised.
In early autumn, I wrote about our local bicycle/pedestrian bridge, the history sandwich hidden in its girders and its closure for renewal. The bridge with the old railway hidden beneath our everyday walks and rides was going to be out of action.
People wearing hardhats swarmed around the old bridge, by foot, on boats, from cranes, dismantling, sanding, pointing, and placing. Tides ebbed and flowed around the bridge’s pylons. Eight full moons slid by overhead.
Without the bridge, routines had to change, different paths walked and ridden. Some destinations took longer to reach. Sometimes that meant I chose to avoid those destinations. The bridge’s absence made its usefulness shine.
And its re-emergence brought unmistakeable joy.
And its re-emergence brought unmistakeable joy. “We’ve got our bridge back!” one woman called out, with a thumbs up, as she pedalled swiftly past. A young school boy exited the bridge on his mountain bike, greeting us with a smile, a wave and a bright hello. Any shyness, teenage angst or ‘too cool’ attitude was shelved. He was clearly happy about riding over the new bridge and wanted to share his joy.
Sections of the original steel girders that needed replacing have been repurposed as signs bearing information about the bridge’s history. Two stand at each entrance to the bridge; each sign bringing a different story. I learnt about the railway’s engineer and the bridge’s specifications, saw some photos of the railway in action, peered at an etching of the original engineering plans, and thought about the bridge’s changing role over the decades.
This valuing of the past seemed to prompt recollections for some. A seventy-something on his morning walk recalled his first visit to Currumbin as a sixteen year old and fondly shared memories of how he used to catch the ferry across the creek.
Lifting the spirit of a community can happen with the simplest of things. Something as simple as a bridge – a way to traverse the creek and move easily around the neighbourhood by foot, by pedal – being given a new life and its history valued, lit the faces of many.
I felt that spark on the morning I visited the new bridge. It moved me. Such a simple piece of infrastructure adds much to the quality of our local lives.
(To see photos of what the bridge looked like before the renewal, click here.)
Detour for 8 months while bridge under construction.
Only pylons standing after the bridge’s deck was removed.
Concrete deck being positioned using overhead crane.
Ready to roll!
Reading one of the four signs explaining the bridge’s history
Original girder repurposed as a sign.
This girder shows drawings for the railway’s construction in early 1900s.
Wider, smoother and wearing a stainless steel railing.
Lifting the spirit of a community can happen with the simplest of things.
a bike for all seasons 