Bum blisters and butterflies
Kylie Klein Nixon spends five days cycling Queensland’s tropics.
I’ve never been this anxious about a trip before. I – portly, 51, slightly overconfident – love cycling, but I’m new to both multi-day riding, and riding in the tropics.
Nevertheless, I’m on Australian Cycle Tours’ Townsville, Rainforest and Magnetic Island Cycle, a four-day guided, one-day self-guided cycling and walking tour in North Queensland’s wet tropics World Heritage Area.
A group of four, we’ll be riding e-bikes along beaches, through ancient swamps and jungles, covering 25 to 55km a day in 29C heat. I’ll be the least experienced, on the tour. Do I have the chops for it?
Crocodile rock
Our hotel in Townsville is the Aquarius on The Beach, a comfortable three-star spot, popular with holidaying families. Julia, one of two guides on this trip, meets us here at 7am. Today, we’ll be cycling the Riverway, a 35km stretch of parkland trail following the Ross River.
The weather is a balmy 29 degrees. Luckily, riding comes with built-in air conditioning, and the breeze is welcome as we hit the baking shared path, past the Tony Ireland Stadium, to the river bank.
Down by the water, the first thing I notice is an abundance of wildlife: wallabies hide in the long grass, butterflies flit around us, a river pool bubbles with well-fed, mossybacked turtles popping to the surface. I thought Aotearoa was teeming with life, but it’s got nothing on this place.
The river is managed by a series of weirs that also provide a natural barrier for Townsville’s most infamous wildlife residents: salt water crocodiles.
Upriver is safe to swim, down river, you take your chances, according to Julia. After a few hours of easy, pleasant riding, we arrive at the bird-filled Palmetum, one of Townsville’s three botanic gardens, where we stop for breakfast, before heading back to town. Not a croc in sight, sadly.
Into the Misty Mountains
Day two and I’m rearing to go now I’ve got the hang of the e-bikes. Today we’re picked up by our second guide, Ian, who takes us 90 minutes out of Townsville to the tiny, adorable, mountain town of Paluma in the wet tropics World Heritage National Park.
The indigenous Nywaigi people named this area Munan Gumburu – the misty mountains – and it fits. It’s about 10 degrees cooler than Townsville here. It’s also greener, more like the New Zealand bush, albeit louder with bird and insect song.
This is also cassowary country. There are signs everywhere reminding you to keep your eyes peeled for this endangered bird, the world’s most dangerous, which has made a big comeback in the region. My eyes are absolutely pinned to the trees in the hope of seeing one.
What we do see are green parrots flitting high up in the branches, little silver doves in the undergrowth, and fat black and red bush turkeys waddling along the side of the road. At the end of the ride is a hidden trail into the bush. The track is pretty tough going, especially the rope path down the rocks at the end.
But there’s a reward at the end: a secret forest swimming hole that’s like something from the movies. The water, smoky greyblue where it twirls through the jumble of rocks, is glacially cold.
Ian sets up a propane gas burner, and we sit dotted about on the rocks munching homemade scones and sipping good, strong tea, before heading back.
Pleasantly knackered by the time we get back, I’m also sporting a blister in a rather unfortunate spot. You haven’t lived until you’ve had to try treating a burst blister on your coccyx with antiseptic powder and heel cushions.
Butterflies and bum blisters
Day three and we ride to the Town Commons wetland and Pallarenda, a former World War II base and quarantine station. The wetland is criss-crossed with single rut cycle paths, hemmed in by shoulder- high grasses that waft a sweet, green scent over us as we brush past. Pretty as it is, it’s hard not to think about rogue crocs out here – every rustle in the reeds puts a little extra pep in my pedals.
But then a cloud of butterflies – yellow palm darts, dingy bush-browns and big, blousy black and white tigers – bursts from the grasses and gnarly crocs are forgotten. We’ve been transformed into Disney Princesses on wheels.
Morning tea is nibbled in the shadow of one of those massive, architectural boulders that dot the Aussie landscape, as rainbow bee-eaters dive from the trees and dart over the water.
After the rest, a short jaunt up the hill brings us to an old WWII fort and a stunning view of the coast all the way back to Townsville. We ride back to town in time for the ferry to Magnetic Island, and the second leg of our tour.
Magnetic PI
Magnetic Island is one part small town, two parts beachy resort, and, thanks to the crab grass, coconut palms and profusion of vintage Jeeps zipping through the streets, at least three parts Magnum PI.
Our hotel, Island Leisure Resort, in Nelly Bay, is made up of cute little cabanas clustered around a stunning swimming pool. Inside the cabanas there are tall, exposed timber ceilings, with breeze fans – properly tropical.
The island is famous for rock wallabies, and koalas – there are more than 1000 of the sleepy tree-dwelling pseudo-bears on the island. We meet Ian at the ferry terminal on day four, and the fun really begins when we head out on a dirt track through the mangrove swamp to West Point. Eastern osprey nest on the island, and we see one wheeling over a private cove we detour into.
There isn’t much at West Point, except a few holiday homes and a stretch of pristine beach bristling with coconut palms. After a rest, we head back to Picnic Bay for morning tea, and then the exhilarating ride back over the hill to Nelly Bay.
Horseshoe Bay
Day five, I spend the morning fruitlessly hunting for rock wallabies, and tooling around the village streets.
Then we meet up to hire a car and drive to Horseshoe Bay and the Forts Walking Track. You’re almost guaranteed to see a koala here and I’ve been walking for only about 20 minutes when I spot a group of people clustered around the base of a tree, staring upward.
Above them a little grey ball of fluff is snoozing in the crook of the branches, oblivious to its celebrity status. I haven’t left myself enough time to walk further, so this little fellow is the only koala I spot, but he’s more than lived up to the hype.
Rock ‘n’ roll
Our ferry back to Townsville leaves at 9:30 the next day. I nip out at 7am to have one last go at seeing a rock wallaby. At first
I think I’m out of luck, the grassy patch where they supposedly live is empty.
But then I see a tiny rock-coloured head pop up from between two nearby boulders and the next thing I know there are heaps of the little critters, including mums and their joeys, hopping up to me.
Later that morning, dolphins follow the ferry as we chug away from Nelly Bay and I’m a little teary to be leaving. Those pre-trip nerves, a total waste of time. From butterflies to blisters, I wish I could do the whole trip over again.