Slow Road down the Murray

As Nelson Mandela lay passing from his courageous life (although I didn’t know this until days later), I was readying the K1300R for a pre-dawn start.
But pre-dawn heavy rain delayed proceedings. I don’t mind riding in rain, or the dark, but not in rain and the dark.




I was going to ride the length of the Murray River, starting as far upstream as it's possible to cross without getting wheels wet, then working downstream, crossing at every ferry until reaching its mouth, like stitching a long wet sock. There are 13 ferries along the Murray (14 if you count the double ferries at Mannum), including the last at Narrung, which doesn’t actually cross the river, but I wanted to do it anyway.

The basic route was to be a mix of back roads, a bit of highway, a bit of gravel, flexibility to take plenty of pics wherever they presented themselves. No set places to be each night other than the first one. See some old friends, and visit a couple of places important to both of my grandfathers when they were young.

The rain cleared, for a short time




Main-roaded it to Swanpool and its cinema. Light rain for most of the way and 8deg meant I was frozen by now despite the heated grips on max. It’s bloody summer for cripes sake !




The sun was out and the temp had reached double figures by Yakandandah and the start of the less-trafficked roads.




Big 8-wheel rig, Tangambalanga. Say Tangambalanga 5 times fast.




Eastward via the empty Murray Valley Highway with its sweepers. After lunch in Corryong, filling the K up at the BP garage, the proprietor asked me where I was headed. I told him, feeling rather chuffed at my plans. He paused and said “look out for a young fella who left his car with me 2 months ago. I took him and his canoe to Tom Groggin, and he’s paddling to the mouth :bow: . Don’t know where he’ll be by now”.

A friendly local copper pulled me over. The initial sinking feeling turned into an example of positive policing , “don't worry, you’ve done nothing wrong sir”, he was “filling a quota of bike checks for December”, and wanted to ensure “I was staying upright”, did a breath and licence check then we had a chat about the route I was intending to take.




Turned south down the Upper Murray Road, dairy flats, until there it was - Biggara Bridge. The furthest upstream bridge on the Murray River. Crossing the river further up means fording it, and I won’t be doing THAT on a fully-fuelled road bike + luggage weighing 260kg.




It’s going to get a lot wider by the mouth







The sun’s out so layers are shed. Feeling very contented, first target achieved, the sun soaking into my body, the peace disturbed by no people, a few cows and several thousand flies.



Return via the Indi Road




Backtracked to the Mt Granya road, then headed north to the first of the ferries at Wymah. The ferry approach was down a ramp of sand and gravel in between railroad tracks. It was OK, gently does it, but made me worry about what was to come further downstream. It turned out the remainder have perfect sealed approaches.




Across Lake Hume and into New South Wales. I asked the ferry driver (master ?) whether he’d been busy that day. Deadpan, he said yes, he’d had 3-4 cars so far. I decided not to laugh.




Main-roaded from here to Bundalong South, near Yarrawonga. Old friends have a small farm here on the banks of the Ovens River just before it joins the Murray.

A beautiful, peaceful spot







See the seal ?







More to come .......

Doonap said:

I was going to ride the length of the Murray River, starting as far upstream as it's possible to cross without getting wheels wet, then working downstream, crossing at every ferry until reaching its mouth, like stitching a long wet sock.

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OHHH YESSS!!!


Magnificent stuff!!
That's a ride I always wanted to do....oh man, am I looking forward to more of this, I really do

When did you go?

And yes...saw the seal.
(as long as it's not another twin-tailed crocodile like at the Lac Souterain in Switzerland)

glitch said:

When did you go?

Click to expand...

Left last Friday.

Day 2. Warm ! Packed away the multi layers and setoff WNW via main roads, to Tocumwal, Finley, then turned west onto the quiet road to Deniliquin.

Giant bales at Blighty.




Hit a bird with the left mirror shortly after this pic, resulting in an explosion of feathers and a limp mirror. The impact ‘fused’ the mirror's 2 adjusting nuts together, so now if the mirror was retightened into its handlebar nut, its arm pointed directly ahead. So I took it off and put it in the tankbag for fixing at home. The mirrors are useless anyway – all they show is swag. Full head checks are the order of the trip.


Coffee at Deniliquin. Deni’s main street was full of Ulysses riders on a Christmas-run, and Ute-Muster types doing ...... whatever it is that they do.

Found the Wakool Road and followed it further west.




The banks of the Wakool River is where this ~1923 photo was taken of Geoff Millard on his all-time favourite stockhorse, when he was a jackaroo on a station here. He was my Grandpa.




Here’s a cheesy one of me 90 years later, on a different sort of horse, taken further downstream.





After jackarooing in Tasmania, Geoff Millard went to England and brought back his new bride May Parsons (my Nana) to his next place of work at a station near Wakool. She was fresh from outside Sutton Coldfield in the English Midlands, from a middle-class family living amongst green rolling fields, oaks, streams, vicars riding bicycles down hedge-rowed lanes, bumblebees, stone houses, 25deg summers, etc.

He brought her here to a corrugated-iron shack, dust, snakes, spiders, billions of flies, coolgardie safes, incredible summer heat, nearest neighbour miles away on horseback or jinker. How she didn’t go completely bonkers is beyond me.




Followed the railway line north, clearly not used much






Avoided a large snake crossing the Burraboi Road :wow: (type ? – brownish, quick, bitey, poisonous), which differed from the reptile de jour – Stumpy-tail Lizards, one of which was every few kms basking in the middle of the road. Followed the Moulamein Road in an anti-clockwise loop before double-backing up the Balranald Road to Speewa, for the next ferry crossing back into Victoria.




The contrast between the narrow strip along the riverbank, and the country I'd just ridden through, is stark.




Onto Nyah for fuel and an icypole (Pine-Lime Splice, is there any better?) before turning west to Manangatang – that name just rolls off the tongue – then north-west through the Hattah Kulkyne NP. Totally empty roads and the K is just loping. It has so much torque, it doesn’t even notice the sail-area the swag presents.




It’s become hot, and I arrive at Red Cliffs with a mild migrane beginning behind my right eye. Time for plenty of water, another Splice, and a wander around Big Lizzie.










An environmental monster in hindsight, but still an impressive folly of over-engineering and it must have been one hell of a sight and sound when moving.




To clarify this, the trip to Glenndinning was around 500kms, and it took them 18 months !




Thumping migraine now . It means I drop into the first fleapit camping ground I see, setup the swag, grab an average pizza from the local take away, then try to sleep. I’m lulled by the sounds of the party the resident itinerant pickers are having, next door’s yapping dogs and trucks thundering past a few metres away. And I couldn't care less.

More to come .......

Doonap said:

Thumping migrane now . It means I drop into the first fleapit camping ground I see, setup the swag, grab an average pizza from the local take away, then try to sleep. I’m lulled by the sounds of the party the resident itinerant pickers‘ are having, next door’s yapping dogs and trucks thundering past a few metres away. And I couldn't care less..

Click to expand...

Ohhh, been there, done that, a few times....
It'll be good in the morning.... payback-time, too, when kicking over the Beemer
Awesome yarn!!

Day 3

This morning dawns bright and fresh. I feel the same way. I’ve been looking forward to riding the next bit of road.

It’s 6:15, and this is the C254 to Meringur. The road to nowhere. As different as you can get to my local twisty, damp roads through the Dandenongs and still be in Victoria.




Big wheat fields, grain silos every 10km or so, one small cluster of houses at Werrimull, otherwise just a completely empty road stretching 80kms straight to the horizon. The K is gurgling along and I’m singing Radiohead songs to myself. Life is good.

This is what’s at Meringur. And two houses.







Turned north to join the Sturt Highway and shortly after crossed the border into South Australia.

Is this racetrack-style tyre-bridge a crow-eater’s idea of thumbing their nose at “Victoria-The Safety-Camera State” ?




Wasted no time in downing the world’s best iced coffee at the border's fuel stop. Farmer’s Union Strong Iced Coffee, proudly made and available in South Australia. MGS12 8V (a native crow-eater) says it’s a proven fact that it’s the world’s best. No idea how he knows this, but I’m not arguing.




Turned left onto the Loxton Road, then right to Lyrup. I’m a bit excited, as today will be the big ferry hopping day.

Back to the cool & the green of the river at the Lyrup Ferry. While waiting, said hello to some cycling brethren, who of course didn’t recognise me as one of them. This ferry is on their regular training circuit.










Then left onto the Goydor Highway. A few caravans have suddenly appeared. Swing left away from them onto Devlins Pound Road, which offers more starkly contrasting country.
Stand on the road, turn north, this is the vista.




Turn south and it’s this.






It’s starting to get hot so off with as many layers as possible. Waikerie Ferry.










Swing right up the Cadell Valley Road, lined with orange groves.




Cadell Ferry.







My old-school paper maps and highlighted lines are working well so far. I used them to help a lost caravaner, who was equipped with satnav !

Turn left and almost immediately came into Morgan and its ferry. While waiting, I was entertained by this guy. (I think the bike was called The Beast ?, and it sounded like a Kwaka Zed. Someone here might know him)










More to come ......

... Day 3 continued ...

Turned south onto some more long fast straight roads, past Blanchetown to Swan Reach.




I was looking forward to water, food and a bit of a rest under shady trees at Swan Reach. But not to be – nothing was open and the only locals were going around in endless circles on their jetskis with their mates watching from the banks drinking Westend, so I was outa there.




Check the flood mark on the pole to the left




To save about 60kms, I turned south onto Murraylands Road. It’s 25km of gravel but is gazetted as a main road. The first few kms were smooth so I was feeling pleased initially. But soon the road surface turned to more like what is on the edge of this photo and so my speed dropped to ~50kph. I didn’t want to dent a rim out here, or beef the bike, or both.




Relieved to get to the other end unscathed, I stopped at Walker’s Flat for fuel, a freshly made chicken burger, a litre of water and a Farmer’s Union Strong.




Walker's Flat ferry







Turned right and rode the few kms down to Purnong. A big storm brewing was generating big heat and strong north winds, and the on-board computer showed 41.5deg before I dropped back down to the river (where it's a few deg cooler).




Purnong Ferry. This driver said the storm was about to hit, as all the pelicans had flown away. He didn’t know where they fly to in storms, just that they always made themselves scarce.




Along the road to Mannum, I came across this shell of memories. Were they successful and moved to a grander homestead elsewhere on an expanding farm, or did they fail and walk away ?




















Approaching Mannum. The pelicans were wrong - the stormfront has passed without a drop of rain, and the temp is back to mid 30’s.




On a reasonably busy road, Mannum is the only place on the Murray River with a double ferry.




South again, bypassed Murray Bridge and went onto Tailem Bend for its ferry down at Jervois. The ferry driver was keen to look over the K. Turns out he runs an ST1300, two Street Triples (one track, one road), a Harley and others that I forget. And he loves his job.







I would leave the last 2 ferries until tomorrow. Instead, I swung west and headed toward Strathalbyn. I’d intended to do the little roads that hugged Lake Alexandrina, but I was feeling buggered so I didn’t want to think about navigation. So far, South Australia hasn’t been big about road signs on its minor roads ! This is good fun when you’re alert, not when you’re tired.

The Fleurieu Peninsula is packed with beautiful old stone houses.




More to come ......

Day 3 continued .......

The busy, yumpy bumpy road brought me steadily into Goolwa, where I gladly laid out the swag in the back corner of a quiet camping ground.

Goolwa Channel







Local beach house




If you’re in Goolwa, go to the Goolwa Fish Café. Their fish and chips are as good as the San Remo Fisherman’s Co-op, and that’s high praise.

While Goolwa celebrated their Christmas pageant, I threw on some walking gear and rode gently down past the barrages and parked at the boat-ramp carpark. This is as close as you can get in a non-4WD to the mouth of the Murray.




About 12km (round trip) of walking along a magnificent beach brought me here, to the Murray mouth. It’s a long way from Biggara Bridge.







You see the strangest sights. These blokes had driven their 4WDs from the main Goolwa beach entrance around 10km along the beach, donned wetsuits, then waded out 200m to surf-fish. The dreadlocked young guy in the foreground told me they fish for Mulloway by following the dive-bombing birds. Presumably sharks don’t faze them (and these waters are a favourite haunt of the Great White). These guys are the Real Deal :bow: .







On the long walk back, God put on a show




























Then into the swag, listening to wind whistling through the pines, and rain on the canvas.

Keep it coming Doonap.

We spent a couple of weeks tracing the Murray the other way a number of years ago. Happy times

Day 4

Still raining and a drop in temp (11deg for the first couple of hours – 30deg cooler than yesterday !).
Cold and wet at the northern reaches of Lake Alexandrina.




Onto the Wellington ferry, the last ferry over the Murray River proper before it empties into the lake.







Turned south onto the empty A1 for about 20km, then right onto the Portalloch-Narrung Road. I’d expected this little lake-bound peninsula to be salt-ruined and backward, but how wrong was I.
It’s like the north coast of Scotland, quiet, deserted, water everywhere, entertaining road, magnificent rolling wheat farms.




If it hadn’t been so miserable, I would have stayed and walked around the Portalloch buildings and lighthouse.










The Narrung ferry is the last one. It’s tiny, and I shared it with a 22-wheeler. He had a couple of feet to spare at each end !













The Narrung ferry doesn’t actually cross the Murray. It bridges a gap between Lake Alexandrina and Lake Albert. The beautiful country and great road continued back to Meningie where I refuelled.




South-east now onto the Younghusband Peninsula and the Coorong NP.
At first, it was like a less-trafficked GOR, then it got quite different.

The water here is highly salty, which makes for interesting plants and formations.




























The Coorong has lots of birdlife, and small, bleached, weather-beaten shacks every now and again, all on slight leans to leeward, hiding behind bent Melaleucas and driftwood fences. They’re my idea of a beach house.




Short break at Salt Creek.







The southern part of the Coorong has less water flow and is very saline, with plenty of these dry saltpans amongst the bush.




The wind was really picking up strongly from the west , making keeping the bike/swag running straight quite difficult, and making my helmet bloody noisy as my left earplug had come loose.

Back to civilisation and all its wonders at Kingston SE




Turquoise ocean at Robe.




Turned east and that wind turned into a great tailwind.
The Blue Lake :wow: in Mt Gambier. A handsome city.







From there, turned right onto the Nelson Road and followed it back over the border into Victoria, where the road surface immediately deteriorated back to potholes, multiple cambers & wheel-channels . I joined in loosely with a big group of riders & pillions, mostly on ST1300s.

The ST1300s turned into Portland. I bypassed it, and let this cold strong wind continue to blow me east, pausing at Codrington briefly.







Into Warrnambool for the night. At the campsite I asked for somewhere sheltered from the westerly – I got a cracker of a spot. Which is just as well as a couple of storm fronts rolled through during the night :thun , with heavy rain beating down on the swag. I was as snug as a bug in a rug inside listening to the surf crashing onto the beach a few metres away.




More to come ..........