Introduction
When you Google the Hunt 1000 it’s described as a self supported 1000km journey through
the rooftop of Australia, high plains, snowgum woodlands, tall forests and along back country
trails. The trail links two major cities with limited resupply points and some of Australia’s best
high country campsites. It sounds great. Why wouldn’t you want to do it?
Doing the Hunt had been on my must do list for a while and it wasn’t until I retired that I had the
space to prepare myself and my bike for the adventure. The logistics for this event were a
nightmare; getting to the start in Canberra and home from the finish in Melbourne; limited
resupply options in places as I traveled through remote country; and weather conditions that
were somewhat alien to my experience in Brisbane. But if you’re into bike packing, you will
know that problem-solving and embracing the unexpected is a fun part of the whole adventure.
My account of riding the Hunt 1000 and how I solved these problems is split into three sections;
planning and preparation; executing the plan; and the people I met along the way. This
adventure turned me inside out. Despite saying, “Never again!” and giving a friend permission
to punch me if I changed my mind, I think it would be a shame to waste these hard won
learnings I gathered along the way. I finish with a list of considerations for next time!!!
Planning and Preparation
The decision to attempt the Hunt 1000 was at least three years ahead of actually entering the
event. It sounds a little trite, but the Hunt has been on my bucket list ever since coming to the
conclusion that my physical capacity for such adventures wouldn’t last forever. To make room in
my life, something had to give, so I gave up work in 2023. Yippee for me. I was pretty excited
when four of my gravel riding friends expressed their interest in doing the event with me. I had
literally just finished riding the Mawson Trail early in September 2025 when entry to the Hunt
opened. I quickly signed up and let my friends know. Complete silence. When the time came,
the reality of the event and work/life commitments extinguished their desire to participate. While
riding the Hunt I would look back on their silence and wonder whether their company would
have made the ride easier. While it would have been good to ride with friends, doing it by myself
meant that I could ride the way that I needed to.
Going into the Hunt knowing that often less than 50% of entrants would get to the finish was
daunting. Therefore, logistics and planning (my favourite parts) for the physical difficulties
became a big part of my “ how to finish plan”. Turns out the physical element accounted for a
very small part of what was needed. You live, you learn.
The Hunt had it all, variable weather conditions, minimal food/ resupply opportunities
(particularly in the first 330km), wilderness areas with long distances out of mobile contact, the
need to filter and purify water, difficult terrain, long stretches of hike-a-bike (hike-a-bike) most
days,
including one 8km section (Billy Goats Bluff Track) that was completely unrideable. I prepared
for limited access to reliable water, but unlike home (Brisbane) in this instance clear running
streams were plentiful. Next time (assuming similar conditions) I’d carry less water, 3 litres max
with capacity for 4 litres would be plenty. Trying to grapple with these challenges and minimise
their impact was an integral part of the adventure. It’s not until you’re two hours into a four hour
hike-a-bike section, that you really begin to question your life choices. Crazy shit goes through
your head for days on end, for example how fast do you have to be going before you exceed
the speed of a high country Victorian fly? I know for a fact that a high country Victorian fly has a
cruising speed greater than 10kmph. I ate a lot of flies and as you will see, the flies had their
revenge.
Looking back on the Hunt, the challenges fell into three categories, mental preparation, physical
preparation and the right kit. I focused on the two easier categories, the right kit and the right
training. Weather extremes, minimal resupply, long periods out of mobile service and water
purification fell into the get/ take the right kit category. For example, knowing that the first
resupply was Thredbo, 330km from the start I carried enough food for 3 days and although I
posted food to myself for collection at Thredbo and various other local post offices along the
way, I probably wouldn’t do this again. From Thredbo, there seemed to be sufficient resupply
options to avoid having to post food.
Preparation for the other challenges such as extremely long hike-a-bike sections involved the
gym for upper body strength and the stair climber for leg strength along with what turned out to
be an excellent kit choice, trail running shoes for the long hike-a-bike sections. These shoes
turned out to be a game changer for me. I knew that my comfortable carbon soled extra wide
Lake riding shoes whilst great when riding, wouldn’t be ideal on even short sections of
hike-a-bike. The trail running shoes were bliss. Looking back, I should have practiced pushing/
pulling my loaded bike up mountainous terrain. I would have discovered that the cargo cages
attached to the rear rack dug holes in my calves. This was great for the high country flies who
had a meal that moved, but speaking as their meal, it just added another level of frustration to
the hike-a-bike.
Adding to these challenges were the mutually exclusive goals of carrying enough gear for the
conditions and keeping the weight of the bike, equipment and food as low as possible. I failed
dismally here. Unfortunately resolving this dilemma requires the allocation of money and/ or the
ability to complete the event in 8 to 9 days. The more quickly you can finish the course the less
you have to carry. If you could do the Hunt in 8 or 9 days you can carry less of everything,
including food, camping equipment and cooking equipment. For example, if you could cover the
first 330km to Thredbo in two days you can eat breakfast before leaving Canberra and carry a
lunch, snacks and dinner for day one and a breakfast, a lunch and snacks for day two. The night
of day two you’d be having dinner at the pub in Thredbo. You wouldn’t be sleeping much, so a
light bivy (Outdoor Research at 300g) would probably be sufficient. Alas, this wasn’t part of my
reality. The other way of course is to throw money at making everything light. On an unlimited
budget having carbon wheels, a carbon bike, carbon rack (Tailfin for example) and state of the
art everything would make things a lot lighter. Personally I don’t think the weight really matters
that much (unless you’re racing of course) until the long hike-a-bike sections and the Hunt has
plenty of opportunities for long hike-a-bike, so lighter is definitely better for this particular event.
Rather than
change all of my equipment and risk divorce, I put my effort into training and planning. It worked,
but if/ when I ever did another hike-a-bike event I would definitely be more considered with
everything I purchased and carried. A light tent (less than 1kg) and a low volume quilt that can
cope with sub zero conditions would be a good start.
I won’t tell you how much my bike weighed but it was a topic of conversation at camp at the end
of day one. When Simon picked it up (or tried to pick it up) at Coolamine Station he was
shocked. I mentioned it to Marty, he said perhaps he was trying to psych me out. I didn’t think
this was the case, Simon seemed concerned for me more than anything. When I made it to
Mackays hut and saw Simon again he was happy that I made it.
Coming from sunny, hot and humid Brisbane I didn’t really understand the range of weather
conditions that I could experience between Canberra and Melbourne. Advice gleaned from
previous participants and my partner (a Canberra local in a previous life) was, be prepared for
heat and snowy sub zero conditions. Having to cater for all 4 seasons meant carrying a lot more
gear than I was used to and I had to buy a sleeping bag and a sleeping mat rated for cold
weather. This was further complicated by the first resupply opportunity, 330km from the start.
For me, this meant that I needed to carry three days food (3.5kg) over what turned out to be
horrendously difficult terrain. Day three (Jagungal Wilderness Area) was harder than I expected
(massive understatement), it took me 8.5 hours of riding time to cover 73km and I ended up
getting to Thredbo on Day 4 instead of day 3. It took me 30 hours of riding time to cover the first
330km and I’d climbed 7,250m.
Throughout the ride I came to realise that I was carrying much the same as everyone else, but
everything I was carrying was more voluminous and heavier. For example, my bike alone was
almost 13kg and my tent was 1.4kg. Others, for instance Brisbane Cycling Club Tony carried a
500g tent. I noticed many people had carbon wheels, carbon or titanium frames and lightweight
carbon racks. I forget who said it, but the best bike to ride is the bike that you have and so I rode
the bike I had and still felt that I was being extravagant on my Curve GMX+ Steel. This said,
when I reached the first resupply at Thredbo I sent 1kg of unused stuff home. Aside from spares
and some tools, I used everything else I carried. In hindsight I didn’t really need to carry a spare
riding kit and next time I won’t.
I had 12 weeks to prepare, which I thought would be ample time considering the solid base I
was starting from. My training plan was simple, concentrate on volume and elevation and let
HIIT slip. I wasn’t intending to race the event, so I didn’t think training for VO2 max and
anaerobic efforts was necessary for what was essentially a go all day, day after day, low heart
rate event for me. This ride was going to be all about banging out 12 consecutive long, hard,
climby days. So 12 weeks out I started increasing my volume from 250km per week and built up
to a 600km week with 5500m of elevation. My last 3 weeks were 500, 350 and 200km
respectively. I did numerous overnight bike packing trips and in the second last week I did my
final shakedown ride. This involved riding 350km to Tenterfield, climbing 5500m in 3 days and
camping 2 nights with everything that I anticipated carrying on the Hunt. I found the ride
extremely tiring and when I got home my first thought was ouch, this bike is too heavy.
My preparation for the Hunt 1000 pretty much consumed my and my wife’s (thank you Melissa)
life for the 3 months following my decision to attempt the event. If I wasn’t training for the Hunt I
was dialing in (defined as chopping and changing) my bike setup or reading about the event.
Despite my preparations, I didn’t really know what to expect. Almost everything I’d read didn’t
really convey just how deep I would need to reach inside myself to complete the event. The
exception to this was Liam A’s honest account of the highs and lows and the difficult decision to
abandon. I will try to be honest about how hard I found the Hunt. Make no mistake, I found the
Hunt 1000 really, really, really hard and the physical dimension was the least of it. Enduring for
a day event is hard, but I found backing up for 12 consecutive hard climby days mind blowing.
This said, the feeling of euphoria from having finished the event is something that will stay with
me the rest of my days. I have never endured mentally for so long and I feel as if I’ve been
stretched into something that I wasn’t before having done the event. How much can I endure? If
you’re contemplating doing the Hunt, try to talk to as many people who have done it as possible
about their experiences. This is what it was for me, but I’m sure everyone experiences it in a
different way.
Executing the Plan
I arrived in Canberra two days before my chosen start date. The afternoon I arrived I rebuilt my
bike and spent the next day tidying up last minute loose ends including picking up a gas canister
and posting my bags and plane clothes to a friends place in Melbourne. On Tuesday 18
November after an over excited sleepless night I got up and was on the course by 6am, not
really knowing what to expect. I’d been second guessing myself, my setup and my ability for so
long I just wanted to rip the band aid off and start. At this time of the day, the first 30km around
the iconic Lake Burley Griffin and out of Canberra belonged to the before work office johnie’s,
keen on getting their exercise in before starting work. The further out of Canberra I got the more
Lycra clad roadies I saw racing into the city as part of their daily routine.
The first three days were the most mentally and physically exhausting days that I’ve ever
experienced. Kayaking the Hawkesbury Classic, 111km in the dark, and doing the Forster
Ironman were easy in comparison. The Hunt was like doing an Ironman every day for 12 days.
Despite all of my preparation I wasn’t really ready for the psychological extremes that I
subjected myself to. From day number two, I knew this event would break me if I didn’t
manage my expectations. At the end of day three I admitted to my partner that I was doubting
my ability to finish. Her response was to the point, “don’t be ridiculous". This was what I heard
over the phone, although I’ve since been told there was a bunch of other positive stuff
mentioned. However, I pretty much only heard the “don’t be ridiculous” bit. In any case, even
though the trip became harder, my focus became getting through each day. To do this I
redefined success as completing the event, rather than getting to the end in 12 days on the
29th of November between 2 and 4pm for the grand finale gathering. From day 3, I rode
conservatively, in that I concentrated on using as little energy as possible to cover the
distance. I got to the first resupply at Thredbo (330km and almost 7500 metres of climbing) on
day four.
Day 1 Canberra to Coolamine Homestead - 125km, 3200m climbed and 10 hours 25 minutes
riding time.
Day 2 Coolamine Homestead to Mackays Hut - 90km, 2000m climbed and 7 hours 20 minutes
riding time.
Day 3 Mackays Hut to Kosciusko Tourist Park - 73km, 2100m climbed and 8 hours 30 minutes
riding time.
Day 4 Kosciusko Tourist Park to Thredbo - 43km, 1000m climbed and 3 hours 50 minutes riding
time.
Day 5 Thredbo to Benambra - 109km, 2400m climbed and 8 hours 25 minutes riding time.
Day 6 Benambra to Dinner Plain - 71km, 1900m climbed and 7 hours riding time.
Day 7 Dinner Plain to Black Snake Campground - 114km, 2000m climbed and 7 hours 25
minutes riding time.
Day 8 Black Snake Campground to Shaws Creek Billabong Campground - 70km, 2400m
climbed and 7 hours 50 minutes riding time.
Day 9 Shaws Creek Billabong Campground to Walhalla 112km, 2300m climbed and 8 hours 10
minutes riding time.
Day 10 Walhalla to Noojee - 81km, 2100m climbed and 6 hours 36 minutes riding time. Day
11 Noojee to Mt Evelyn - 78km, 1250m climbed and 4 hours 40 minutes riding time. Day 12
Mt Evelyn to Melbourne - 73km, 1100m climbed and 4 hours 40 minutes riding time.
I’m not sure what it was like for everyone else, but from the end of day one I decided that I
probably wouldn’t make it if I forced myself to ride at someone else's tempo. Until the last couple
of days I found the Hunt just too much of a suffer fest to even contemplate riding with someone
else. Depending on how I felt I seemed to drift in and out of other peoples orbits. Nevertheless,
by the time I reached day nine I was confident that I could make the last 300km and I began
tapping the pedals more aggressively. Riding with Tony and Evan for the last two days really
helped me to focus less on how I was feeling and more on the journey. It took me 11 days 15
hours, 8 minutes and 15 seconds to cover the 1026km and 24,000 metres of climbing.
The People I met
The Hunt doesn’t have a start date, in other words there is no mass start, rather there is a mass
finish date. In theory, and barring a mishap, regardless of the date you begin, everyone should
finish on the same day, providing you have handicapped yourself appropriately. For this reason
you come across the same people often and toward the end you are being caught by people
that started after you and you catch people that began before you. Although I didn’t start with
any of the 18 people that began on the same day as me, I did come across several of them
throughout the 1026km journey.
I came across five of them (Bill, Matt, Ever Ready Simon, Marty and Simon) during the first
day, Bill used the ride from Sydney to Canberra as a way to gain fitness for the Hunt and Matt
who said he spent next to zero time training for the event gathered fitness along the way.
Climbing through the Brindabilla Ranges on day one was constant, pleasant and picturesque.
At one of the creek crossings I came across a fellow called Simon (later I would think of him
as Ever Ready Simon) resting on the opposite bank and we had a chat. Simon told me that
he was too old, fat and unfit to push hard. Not true. Over the course of the next 12 days Ever
Ready Simon would pop up over and over again. You see, this amazing person had a super
power. While the rest of us slept Simon kept moving. When I was walking to the pub for
dinner in Thredbo I came across Simon pushing his bike up the switchbacks out of Thredbo.
It was dark and Ever Ready Simon rather than stopping was using his time to ride another
30km and cross the Murray River to Dogman’s Hut. I later heard that he stopped for 3 hours
and began again. “This is the only way I can do it” he told me. He made it to Melbourne a day
ahead of me. I couldn’t help thinking that Simon’s preparation was the complete opposite to
mine. Whilst I was possibly better prepared physically, Simon’s mental capacity for this event
was off the planet compared to mine. I learned from another rider, Nev, that Simon is a
regular Hunter and that this is just the way he does it. The most amazing people are generally
not the people that are telling you they’re amazing, they hide among us!!!
On day one I also met a couple on a tandem from Shell Harbour who were bike packing with a
friend from Dorrigo. The trio were leaning on their bikes resting up and watching a large bird of
prey lazily riding the currents above us, ominous, perhaps. At the end of the day I met a couple
from Brisbane, Karl and Lou who were returning to Canberra. Karl and Lou had made significant
progress on the Hunt before realising that they wouldn’t make it to Melbourne in time to return to
Brisbane for work commitments. I got a lovely message of support from them when they got
back to Brisbane.
On the first night I stopped at Coolamine Station after 125km and 3200m climbed. Like me,
Bill, Matt, Marty and Simon (not Ever Ready Simon) had also decided it was a good place to
camp. The next morning Bill, Matt, Marty and Simon were on the road a good 45 minutes to an
hour before I was ready to start. I didn’t expect to see this group again, however Bill was the
only person who I never came across.
At the end of day two I pulled into Mackays Hut camp site where Simon and Marty were as
surprised to see me as I was to see them. After pitching my tent, Simon suggested jumping in
the nearby mountain stream rather than using wilderness wipes to freshen up. So I took my
chux superwipe (combination towel, sponge and tissue) and my apre riding clothes down to the
creek and had my first of many freezing cold sluice offs. The cold water on my skin felt like
being burned to begin with, but that was quickly replaced by soothing numbing cold. Thank you
Simon. As it turned out, this would be the last time I saw Simon and Marty as they gathered
momentum and powered to the finish.
Along the way there were many, many golden moments. Such as meeting two Western
Australians, Peter and Richard, in Benambra and again days later when they caught me on a
climb. We were riding up the climb to Tanjil Bren and Richard with a straight face said, hey
there’s the turn off to the Baw Baw lookout or some such nonsense, do you want to have a look.
And I’m thinking WTF, are you serious, but what I said was, is it on the course? No says Richard
and Peter but we could hide our bikes in the bush and walk up and have a look. Fudge to that I
said, if it isn’t on the course I’m not interested. I sort of wish now (from the safety of the lounge
cradling a glass of whiskey) that I’d called their bluff but I reckon I would have been shamed into
doing it with them. Perhaps next time?
While I was tidying up loose ends the day before my start date I kept seeing this bloke, clearly a
Hunter, riding around on a loaded bike wearing a cape and a mask. Our paths eventually
crossed outside a camping store whilst we waited for it to open. The masked man (aka Pete A)
kindly shared his tray of donated doughnuts and talked about why he was dressed the way he
was. He was drumming up support for a very worthy cause, the Heroes Hunter Foundation, that
was aimed at raising money for families with children suffering with cancer. Although Pete and I
began our journeys separately, our paths crossed often after this. The most memorable time
was when Pete and I met at the Dinner Plain pub. We happened to be riding in the general
vicinity of each other that day and arrived at the Dinner Plain pub together. That night at the pub
was hilarious.
After cleaning up and changing, we headed to the bar for Frosty Boys and food. Pete, dressed
in cape, mask and tights swaggered into the bar chocca with people including a group of burly
bikies (who later insisted on being known as motorcycle enthusiasts) and ordered a beer. One of
the enthusiasts mentioned the elephant in the room and Pete eagerly took the opportunity to
introduce his cause. In my mind, old mate says righteo that’s a noble cause and clearly you’re
committed to it, why else would you get around in those tight fitting leggings. An agreement was
struck whereby Pete would talk to each and every person in the bar about his cause, the
publican would donate a bottle of wine, a cap and a hoodie and the enthusiast would run an
auction. What ensued was the most memorable and funny night I've had in a while and I
captured most of it on video. The enthusiast was so, so, funny and, though he claimed to be
untrained, he was extremely good at auctioneering. I remember saying to Pete, if I get no further
on this ride, tonight has made it all worthwhile. This enthusiast and his generous friends who
between them donated over $500 are testament to the random kindness of strangers. Although
we appeared to have nothing in common with the enthusiasts, Pete dressed in tights, a cape
and a mask was able to make a connection. The auction netted $1500 toward Pete’s quest.
Bruce was another one of the many characters I met, a sanguine kiwi with an unflappable
manner and a dry sense of humour. Sitting amongst a group of Hunters enjoying food and a
Frsoty Boys on the evening of day five in Benambra we learned that Bruce was eating his first
ever Parmy. Whilst encouraging Bruce on his excellent choice, and listening to him mildly
deride the parmy, he informed us that the parmy was actually a New Zealand creation. I still
don’t know if he was serious or whether he was just getting back at Aussies for claiming all of
NZ’s great outputs, such as Crowded House, Split Enz and that movie with our Sam Neill,
Hunt for the Wilderpeople.
I also kept crossing paths with Evan from Tasmania. Evan, Bruce and I all started on the same
day and throughout the journey we often found ourselves camped at the same spot, although
we rarely rode together. On day seven, a group of us (including Bruce, Evan, Pete, Richard and
Pete and Francois and Adam) camped at Black Snake Campground, about 14km before the
infamous 8km hike-a-bike up Billy Goats Bluff Track (BGBT). For much of the remainder of the
ride into Melbourne I was within cooee of these blokes.
While I was bleeding out my eyeballs on my longest ever hike-a-bike up BGBT I had a laugh
with Scott (Stevo), who caught me near the top, about a conversation he had with one of the
4-wheel-drivers who was testing their skills coming down the track, soft as. According to Scott
their conversation went something like, “WTF are you idiots doing, you’ve bypassed a perfectly
good dirt road around this track at the beginning of this climb.” Scott was laughing about what
he was going to say to Dan Hunt, the event organiser, when he got to Melbourne and I was
egging him on. I don’t know how Scott missed it, but from beginning to end this event had
absolutely zero to do with taking the easier path. We were definitely on the path least travelled.
After somehow pushing myself and my bike up BGBT I pulled into Shaws Creek Billabong
campground and found that Evan was there too, along with Tony and Chris. I was so, so, so
tired, but after pitching my tent and jumping in the freezing mountain stream I felt somewhat
better. It was great just sitting down with my dehydrated meal to chat with them. We chatted until
late in the evening and managed to finally get in our tents by 6.30pm. The next morning, Tony
and then Chris broke camp before us and I began day nine with a 40km downhill ride into Licola
with Evan. Just as we arrived at Licola a big group of riders (including Pete (no cape or mask),
Matt (from day one), Kiwi Bruce and Adam) were leaving having spent the night there. I
retrieved my resupply parcel from Leanne, the shop keep, and promptly took all of the sweet
treats, gave Evan a pre-packaged oats breakfast and return posted everything else back to
myself in Brisbane. Leanne was fantastic, she was so into the Hunt and went out of her way to
make the Hunters feel welcome, even going so far as to stay open late or be open extra early if
she saw on Maprogress (the dot watch/ navigation app used by the event) that riders were on
their way. Evan and I ate and left Licola together along with Francois who was the last of the
Licola overnighters to leave. Peter and Richard (the Western Australians) were arriving just as
we were leaving and Francois stopped for a chat. By the time Francois caught me and then
attacked me (I chuckled to myself, knowing that he could have crawled past me and I wouldn’t
have tried to keep up) I’d already let Evan go, having decided that he was pedalling harder than
I cared to/ could go. A short time later at the turn off to Cherene’s Bridge Track (a 14km climb
with lots and lots of hike-a-bike) I noticed Francois and Evan taking on water from the river. I’d
already watered up from the tap at Licola so I kept going, all the while thinking that they would
catch me during the hike-a-bike section. After swapping my cycling shoes for trail running shoes
I caught three people on the way up the long hike-a-bike climb. The conditions on the
hike-a-bike were rainy and freezing cold and the winds were gusty and strong, forcing me to
stop and put my rain gear on. The
whole way up the climb I expected to see Evan and Francois but in typical Hunt fashion it would
be days before our paths crossed again.
Evan and I both stopped at Walhalla at the end of day 9 but we never saw each other, and
Francois had pushed on another 12km to Rawson. I didn’t see him again until I reached
Melbourne. The last few days of riding were relatively easy compared to the beginning. On day
ten I woke up in luxurious accommodation at the Star Hotel in Walhalla and saw Bruce and then
Evan riding out of town. It was the third last day and I was feeling well rested after a great sleep,
good food and wine. I had high hopes of riding 120km to Warburton but after reaching Noojee at
80km I ran into Evan and he talked sense into me and I pitched my tent amongst the many and
stayed the night. It was a good night and catching up at the pub with Evan, Bruce, Nev, Peter
and Richard was fun. With everyone deciding to hit the Noojee Cafe for breakfast the start at
8.30am was quite late. It didn’t matter, the end was only 150km away and we had 2 days to get
there. After breakfast Evan, Tony and I got on our bikes and headed off together. We’d decided
to stay at the same place in Mt Evelyn and compared to the previous 10 days the going was
relatively easy, 78km and only 1250m of elevation. This was the first day that I had ridden to
stay with other people and it felt good.
On the last day we decided to back track to the Cog Bike Cafe on the Warburton Rail Trail for
breakfast. I’d arranged to meet my good friends Andrew and Suzie there and Andy would ride
the last 70km into Melbourne with me. I warned Evan and Tony that despite being unloaded
Andy might not be able to keep up and if this happened they should keep going. As it turned out
we were match fit, and Andy lost sight of us on the hike a bike up Mount Dandenong. Just
before bidding Evan and Tony farewell I noticed an alarming text from my wife, “I’m in Accident
and Emergency at Redcliffe Hospital”. While I waited for Andy to catch up (he got lost) I spoke
to Melissa. She’d been knocked unconscious, had a broken thumb and collarbone after a bike
accident. She said she would contact a friend to pick her up from the hospital and after hanging
up, I wasn’t confident that she was thinking straight so I rang said friend, Chris, and she subbed
in for me, quickly going to the rescue. When Andy eventually found me I made sure that he
could keep up and we pushed the last 50km to Melbourne. To be fair, Andy was following an out
of date track that he copied from Ride With GPS. In any case, he still got lost and I had to
rescue him, that can’t be denied.
Some of the Yarra River crossings into Melbourne were flooded but by this point I wasn’t going
to let a bit of water and flotsam stop me. The finish was crowded with riders and onlookers
cheering. Despite being extremely happy to have finished, my mind was on Melissa so I decided
not to attend the pub with everyone else. Instead I caught a train to Carnegie with Andy and
after hearing that Melissa was okay I ate a two minute noodle that I took on the ride but didn’t
eat and slept the sleep of the dead. I felt numb.
Post Hunt Reflections
I experienced the lowest of lows and the highest of highs throughout the 11 days/ 15 hours/ 8
minutes/ 15 seconds it took me to complete the course. I spent a lot of time outside myself and
was so surprised that I could endure for so long. I concentrated on starting each day, keeping
on moving and embracing the point when I could stop each afternoon. My focus became here
and now with no thought for the future beyond stopping at some stage at the end of each day.
I’m pretty amazed about what you can achieve when you free your ambitious mind. Who would
have thought it possible that pushing a laden bike 8km for a gain of 1200m of elevation over 4
hours was even possible? Although I spent close to the first 800km of the event suffering in my
jocks, or perhaps because I spent so much time hurting there was no way I would/ could have
avoided following the route. I was committed to getting the full experience, even if that meant
pushing my heavily laden bike up Billy Goats Bluff Track.
Would I do it again, no way, I don’t know, perhaps, yes definitely. It would be a shame to waste
the hard won knowledge I gained from doing the event. I will keep on the lookout for someone
compatible to do the ride with in 2026. Those brief times that I rode with others, I learnt that it is
probably more difficult suffering for so long by yourself. Riding with other people tends to take
your mind off how intensely you are hurting. Even so, I know now that I can do it by myself if
necessary
Was I prepared? Probably not but I’m confident that I prepared as best I could, not knowing what
I didn’t know. I have thought about it a lot and I agree with Pete (the masked man), this event is
50% mental, 30% decision making (making good decisions when you’re empty) and 20% fitness.
Throughout the ride I came across people I’d seen before, however almost everyone (excluding
Peter and Richard from Western Australia), including me, could not/ did not commit to riding with
others. From my perspective I was locked inside my mental, emotional and physical pain cave
and just couldn’t contemplate riding to someone else’s beat. Even the people who knew each
other and started the challenge together, appeared to do their own thing throughout the course
of the day and met up and camped together at the end of each day. I never spoke to anyone
about this and no one mentioned it to me but we all appeared to be enduring in the way that
allowed us the best chance of getting to the end.
Day three through the Jagungal Wilderness Area was probably the lowest point I’ve ever
experienced on the bike. The sheer brutality of the ride within such an extraordinarily beautiful
country was so, so, intense. The hail, thunder, lightning and freezing mountain streams were
hard enough, but the terrain was so slow. I remember Marty saying on the first night how soul
destroying the Jagungal section was. I now understand what he meant. Long hike-a-bike
sections and tussock grass made riding extremely slow and difficult. It was difficult to stay
seated with the constant tussock grass bounce. Perhaps a dual suspension MTB would be
ideal for this particular section or at the very least, a suspension seat post? One of my most
memorable creek crossings occurred during a hail storm. The surface of the water, made
opaque from the pounding hail caused me to miss my footing and topple over during the
crossing. I was soaked from head to toe and my only thought was I have to keep moving or I
will freeze out here, and so I kept moving. In 8.5 hours of riding/ pushing time (not counting
breaks) I had only managed
to cover 73km, but there was more than 2000m of climbing in this short distance. I reached
Kosciuszko Tourist Park and was glad to find a cabin available and was even able to wash my
kit and take a hot shower. I knew that the first 3 days were the tip of the iceberg and the
hardest times were still ahead of me. Although this was the case, I seemed to become more
accepting of adversity the more I was immersed in its murky depths. After the shock of the first
three days and resetting my head I was better prepared to go as deep as I needed to go and it
seemed to work.
Throughout the trip (and indeed after the trip) I wondered how/ if others thought about/ coped
with the mental element associated with undertaking the event? Perhaps it was easier for some
of them, especially the second and third timers and the people doing it in groups? Those times
when we encountered each other, the closest we got to the topic was, goodness gracious me,
such and such a section was a tad trying. I get it, dwelling on the obvious does no one any
good. Still, I’d be interested to talk to others about their experiences and mental preparation.
One thing I am sure about, my capacity to endure has expanded more than I thought possible.
The question I keep asking myself is, where is my new limit and what can I do to test where that
is?
LEARNINGS BASED ON 11/12 DAY TRIP
FOOD
● Took too much. Other than the first 330km between Canberra and Thredbo which have
zero resupply opportunities, I could have gotten away with carrying only enough food for
one day and emergency breakfast for the next day.
● Needed 3 days food to get to Thredbo
● Didn’t need to send food to Thredbo
● Didn’t need to send food to Benambra
● Didn’t need to send food to Licola
WATER
● Filtration system (squeeze life straw) too slow. Back flush before the trip
● Carry less water, 3 litres max, there are plenty of water options available from creeks
● Capacity to carry 4 litres of water for just in case
BIKE
● Hard tail ideal, but use the bike you have
● If going rigid again, suggest a suspension seat post
● Light as possible best
● 27.5 x 2.1 Tyres were fine. Suggest that tyre width is dependent on offroad skill level.
The more confident you are, the narrower you can go. Needs to be balanced with
comfort. Generally wider tyres equals more comfort.
CLOTHING/ CAMPING
● Good wet weather gear essential
● Layer clothing
● Probably get away with 1 set of riding clothing
● Merino LS Hoodie etc great for every day wear
● Minus 2 degree celcius to +5 rated sleeping quilt and All Season mat worked for me
● Suggest carrying comfortable hike-a-bike shoes
ELECTRICS
● 1 x 10,000mah battery was sufficient, but I took 2
● Get comfortable with navigation
● Download offline versions of the course
PHYSICAL
● Practice hike-a-bike with loaded bike
● Learn to enjoy climbing
● Take chamois cream
MENTAL
● The biggest challenge, practice hike-a-bike with a loaded bike
● Ride and camp in horrible conditions
● Back up a long, offroad hilly ride with more of the same the next day
DECISION MAKING
● Important when physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted
THE FINISH
● Suggest finishing a day earlier so that you can find accommodation, get cleaned up and
stow your bike. This means you can head to the finish location the next day to cheer people
in and then celebrate in comfort, knowing that you have somewhere to stay and that your
bike is safe.