By Catherine Watson
IT SEEMED as though the whole of Bass Coast had been invited to the opening of our flash new $7.5 million bike track except me. So last Friday, a week before the official launch, I dusted off the cobwebs and pumped up the tyres on the old Centurion for my own private launch, minus the speeches.
What I discovered on the ride amazed me. Not a single complaint. Everyone loved it. In an age of complaint, the new Inverloch-Wonthaggi shared pathway has been embraced even before it opened.
IT SEEMED as though the whole of Bass Coast had been invited to the opening of our flash new $7.5 million bike track except me. So last Friday, a week before the official launch, I dusted off the cobwebs and pumped up the tyres on the old Centurion for my own private launch, minus the speeches.
What I discovered on the ride amazed me. Not a single complaint. Everyone loved it. In an age of complaint, the new Inverloch-Wonthaggi shared pathway has been embraced even before it opened.
But back to the ride. The trail starts a couple of kilometres from my home, just past Coldon. I've ridden this way before, only to find security gates blocking the route. This time the gates have been wrenched open – probably by elderly lycra louts – and the way is clear.
My first impression is how exposed the country is. You don't see it from the highway but out here, among the farms proper, there are few trees and many of those are dead, presumably ringbarked by cattle.
The only wildlife in sight are cows and horses, staring in frank amazement at these strange new creatures with round legs streaking past, or in my case weaving past. Another week or two and they won't even bother lifting their heads.
There's barely a breath of wind and the riding is easy until I reach a boardwalk bridge across a gully and discover I haven't quite got enough momentum for the slight rise on the other side. I have to dismount and walk, though I feel a bit better when I turn around and see a sign warning riders from the opposite direction of a steep descent ahead.
Half an hour from home I reach the half way mark between Wonthaggi and Inverloch. There are a couple of park benches for riders to stop and catch their breath, though the view itself is a little underwhelming.
Now I'm starting to meet people. An Inverloch couple pull up for a chat. It's their first ride too and they're enthusiastic. "They've done a fantastic job," Geoff says. "You don't realise what we've got in our own backyard till you get out.
"If you live in Wonthaggi you can get on your bike at home and go somewhere. In Inverloch you've really got to put the bikes in the car and drive. I think this will become one of our favourites. It's so quiet and peaceful."
"If you live in Wonthaggi you can get on your bike at home and go somewhere. In Inverloch you've really got to put the bikes in the car and drive. I think this will become one of our favourites. It's so quiet and peaceful."
The track's mostly straight but like all good paths it curves in all the right places, around trees and over culverts
Further along, Mick and Sandy have come from Korumburra specifically to try the new trail. They've enjoyed the ride and describe it as picturesque.
At Emma Lane – the scene of tomorrow's official opening – Bass Coast Civil workers are still putting the finishing touches to the project while a steady stream of cyclists rolls past.
At Emma Lane – the scene of tomorrow's official opening – Bass Coast Civil workers are still putting the finishing touches to the project while a steady stream of cyclists rolls past.
"Yeah, it's come up good. We're pretty pleased,” says Pat James, or “James Agricultural Fencing”, as he introduces himself. He’s done all the fencing, right along the track. so he’s walked the length of the track many times over. He plans to ride it one day – after he’s finished the hundred and one other jobs he’s got to do.
Pat says the path will make a massive difference for Inverloch cyclists. “There’s a lot of people there and nowhere to ride. This gets them off the street. They get to the surf beach car park they come up here and they’re off the road.”
As we talk, his friend Des Pugh arrives from Wonthaggi. "One hill surprised me a bit," Des admits. "By the bridge. I had to walk up."
Ah! Like me, Des is on a push bike. More modern than mine by several decades but ours are the only two entirely leg-powered bikes I’ve seen.
Pat promises the best is still ahead of us. "When you get down near Drowleys Road you'll see the big boardwalk. You come up over the top and the cattle go underneath."
I’m keen to see this fancy boardwalk. By now the wind has got up and I’m riding downhill so I’m coasting along. Easy as. I stop beside a dam to talk to Jack Van Der Arj, of Dalyston, who’s come for a first ride with his grandson.
As we talk, his friend Des Pugh arrives from Wonthaggi. "One hill surprised me a bit," Des admits. "By the bridge. I had to walk up."
Ah! Like me, Des is on a push bike. More modern than mine by several decades but ours are the only two entirely leg-powered bikes I’ve seen.
Pat promises the best is still ahead of us. "When you get down near Drowleys Road you'll see the big boardwalk. You come up over the top and the cattle go underneath."
I’m keen to see this fancy boardwalk. By now the wind has got up and I’m riding downhill so I’m coasting along. Easy as. I stop beside a dam to talk to Jack Van Der Arj, of Dalyston, who’s come for a first ride with his grandson.
"It's a definite winner, he says. "Technically you can ride from Inverloch all the way to Cowes now. And once the trees establish themselves there'll be less wind."
His grandson is more sceptical. “It’s all right,” he says in a distinctly unimpressed voice.
Another couple stop to talk. It takes a minute to recognise Ed Jensen beneath the helmet. “We’ve been waiting for it ever since it was discussed,” he says. “It’s better than I expected – there’s a lot more vegetation. It’s beautiful!”
We chat a while and Ed points out that the breeze is now a full-blown north-westerly. I’ll be facing a stiff head wind on my ride home. He glances at my ageing bike. "I see you haven't got a battery."
Yeah, fair point. Pat’s boardwalk can wait till next time. Those faint rises are now definite hills. That light tail wind is now a stiff head wind. The sky is black. A storm is coming, and I’m riding into it. Better get home quick.
His grandson is more sceptical. “It’s all right,” he says in a distinctly unimpressed voice.
Another couple stop to talk. It takes a minute to recognise Ed Jensen beneath the helmet. “We’ve been waiting for it ever since it was discussed,” he says. “It’s better than I expected – there’s a lot more vegetation. It’s beautiful!”
We chat a while and Ed points out that the breeze is now a full-blown north-westerly. I’ll be facing a stiff head wind on my ride home. He glances at my ageing bike. "I see you haven't got a battery."
Yeah, fair point. Pat’s boardwalk can wait till next time. Those faint rises are now definite hills. That light tail wind is now a stiff head wind. The sky is black. A storm is coming, and I’m riding into it. Better get home quick.
Shem Hawk will use the trail to commute to work. Heading home I meet Shem Hawking powering along. He lives in Inverloch and teaches at Bass Coast Secondary College’s Dudley campus. He's bringing out 40 kidson bikes for Friday's opening.
Shem says he’s looking forward to commuting on the track.
“This opens up so many options: running, biking, anything. Especially distance running. Better than running round and round a track in Inverloch.”
The trail’s not spectacular. Most of the route crosses ordinary farmland. But by now I've ridden enough kilometres to understand why everyone seems tickled pink. For the first time people can hop on their bikes and ride into peace and quiet.
It sometimes seems councils can't do a thing right, but Bass Coast Shire seems to have nailed this one - at least until the Facebook mob gets stuck in. Let's wait to see what they've got to say.
That storm’s not far off. I stop reflecting and start pedalling.
Shem says he’s looking forward to commuting on the track.
“This opens up so many options: running, biking, anything. Especially distance running. Better than running round and round a track in Inverloch.”
The trail’s not spectacular. Most of the route crosses ordinary farmland. But by now I've ridden enough kilometres to understand why everyone seems tickled pink. For the first time people can hop on their bikes and ride into peace and quiet.
It sometimes seems councils can't do a thing right, but Bass Coast Shire seems to have nailed this one - at least until the Facebook mob gets stuck in. Let's wait to see what they've got to say.
That storm’s not far off. I stop reflecting and start pedalling.