Mountain bike trek on the Mundi Biddi Trail of Western Australia
It began with a sleep-in on Saturday morning, having stayed up late Friday night pouring over my inventory list. Towards the wee hours I got brutal about what was “essential” and what was “optional” – let me just say that it was a line call that got a spare pair of underwear into the “essential” list. Fortunately some of the other decisions made themselves. I originally thought of going light, with only a daypack and handlebar bag of tools, but that seemed to make things a bit too harsh (no hot food, no thermarest, limited food/water). I soon came to the following setup:
Handlebar Bag – Bike tools, spare tubes, kits, first aid etc, snacks and maps; Rear Pannier (left) – sleeping bag, thermarest, thermals, jumper and rain jacket; Rear Pannier (right) – food, cooking set (trangia), fuel, mug; Wearing on back – Camelback water system (2 litres) plus 500ml of water on bike frame.
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Apparent by its absence is a tent – which was optional, having huts to stay at along the way. I was hoping that they were not full, and that I could actually reach them during the day’s ride. I didn’t bring bike lights (which I probably could have with not much more trouble) so riding through the night wasn’t such a good idea.
So, having slept in on Saturday morning and after a hasty breakfast, I drove out to Mundaring to begin the trip. I left my car parked on a popular street outside houses and not in the designated “P” area, because I thought it was too obvious and would be an easier theft risk in some dark parking lot. At this point I realised I’d be leaving my car there, unattended, for about four days! Yikes – that was stupid; I should have got a lift. I realised that I was equally vague about how I’d get back from Dwellingup – but felt confident that that issue would sort itself out somehow… I wasn’t going to worry about that now!
I was off at about 9:45, and the beginning was mercifully slightly downhill. I’m sure it was designed such that you get an early feeling of accomplishment and ease with some quick kms under the tyres early on. Sailed down the valley to the Mundaring Weir. The path uses parts of an old railway track, some lovely single-track parts, and linkage between using bush tracks or minor gravel roads.
Before I knew it I was having a great time, pushing up hills, through the bush and over rocks, and then down hills really, really fast! I can’t overemphasise the downhill speed buzz that this trail can give (if you choose). At first I was careful about avoiding every little rock and dip, and keeping the speed down. But soon grew confident that you can sail straight over many “seemingly” bad sections if you have the pace and suspension (knees) to blaze away. The scary part is leaning into a bend that you don’t quite know how sharp it is… this is when you learn VERY quickly how to use your brakes properly 
). All I can say about the technical aspects of mountain biking, and I’m a novice, is it’s all about the back wheel baby!
Morning tea, lunch and afternoon tea were simply nice spots to stop and have a rest for while. The bush land is really beautiful and quiet. As much as the whole trip was exciting and full of adrenalin, it was quiet and peaceful with a real feeling of being a part of nature – right in it. I’m sure this feeling of calmness was magnified by solo-ing the trip. There were two or three occasions (on the whole trip) when I encountered other MTBers (going the other way), so on the whole there was an absence of talking (I did swear out loud more than a few times) and conversation I usually associate with a hiking trip with other people. One the whole, the mood of observation, contemplation and reflection was quite satisfying.
The first evening was at Carinyah campsite, which was SUPERB! The trail huts that have been built are way better than the Bibbulmun Track huts (which is saying something!) There has been a lot of thought put into the design and construction, keeping everything “bike friendly”- with separate shelters for the bikes, a great sleeping area (including bunk levels), some handy picnic tables, and don’t forget the “Super Loo!” – Heh heh… It’s was entertaining to read the “Logbook and Diary” at the hut with comments from previous visitors.
The sun set with me cooking up some spag bol on the faithful trangia, with fruit and chocolate for desert, and a particularly good cab sav I managed to pick up on the way at Haighnault winery. Mmmm. The bike and I had both done well on the first day. With the setting of the sun the darkness that falls in the bush is a signal to my internal body clock of rest and sleep, the natural rhythm took over and I was soon curled up in my sleeping bag snug as a bug.
Day two saw me wake as the sun rose, and after a quick breakfast was on the trail. Riding early in the mornings was particularly great, as everything is cold and fresh and a slight mist of the morning hasn’t yet been burnt off by the sun. I saw a couple of kangaroos as I weaved my way through some of the trails heading down towards the Brookton Highway crossing.
I passed through the next hut at around lunch time, as the going was easier and I seemed to be getting into the groove. So I had some lunch, laughed at the log book comments, and thought that I may as well keep going! ) I made it through to Jarrahdale by about 4:00pm, and sought out a room for the night (having no tent did have its disadvantages). The General Store at Jarrahdale is great, and their blueberry pie was even better! (with ice cream). I managed to find a dorm room at a holiday village a little ways out of town (IHD), only $12.50 the night and I had the run of the whole place to myself! Great value and very soft beds, and a hot shower… yeah, yeah I know I was supposed to be roughing it… )… but hot showers! – C’mon.
Monday morning was a sleep-in with a later start, as I only had 40kms or so to cover to the next hut at Dandalup. The trails were great; plenty of variety in bushlands, sometimes being next to farmland etc kept me interested in what I was passing by. The track down to the Serpentine river crossing was hairy at places, soft sand mixed with gravel mixed with steep drop in elevation and sharp turns. Heh heh – like I said it was great! The climb out of the valley was the first section to actually give me pause. It was so steep in places that I HAD to get off and push, still I felt ok about that, seeing as how I’d really powered up some sections on day one… sort of had some pride points saved up to spend.
Actually most of day three was up and down all over the place, I think my knees started to complain by about lunchtime. Highlights were the visit to the North Dandalup Dam where a sheltered BBQ area with sun keeping me warm made for a later afternoon nap after some noodles for lunch. And of course a cup of tea… there’s one thing sacred that a trangia will always provide is a bit of heating of water enough for a cup of tea… almost a ritual pleasure that can give you power over your environment. No matter what the weather or conditions or situation, a cup of tea is a blessing and welcome relief. Anyway enough about tea.
| TRAIL NOTE: The Dandalup Campsite is actually on the other side of the nearest hill, located on the descent side when heading south – NOT as indicated on the ascent side. |
A quick climb up the other side of the valley and then decent got me confused!? The terrain profile locating the Dandalup campsite seemed to be all wrong?
With the last hut found, it proved to be the best! The view was awesome, having an aspect out into the valley. Hidden in the bush, the Munda Biddi huts are just great, and a welcome respite for weary (and knee-sore) riders. Again, as in all the other huts, I had the place to myself for the night.
In the morning I met Noel and his work crew, up to clean the site of some construction debris, mostly tree branches and logs. Their arrival was very pleasant and they invited me to join them for a cup of tea, and some food while they set up. The work crew it turns out were all inmates from the local prison. It’s impressive the real value and contribution they’ve made to the trail – building the huts, erecting the signage and building bridges and drainage and basically EVERYTHING to do with making this trail actually happen on the ground. It’s a credit to everyone who worked on it, and I told the boys myself. They’ve done, and are continuing to do, a GREAT JOB!
I spent the day going quite easy, taking time to explore the little things next to the trail, Whittakers Mill, Oakley Dam, even the Alcoa conveyor! It was a great section of the trail, plenty of winding in and out of trees and meandering paths and old tracks. However, there was a slight nervousness as I crossed Scarp Rd for the second time… (Earlier in the day Noel and the boys had described to me the pleasant things I would encounter that day. They left saying, “Oh yeah, you’ve got to watch out for hill 189. Just after Scarp Road for the second time. You’ll know it…. don’t ignore the ‘Steep Descent’ signs on this one!” I could still hear their laughter…)
So with some fear mixed with anticipation I took on the dreaded section with confidence. It wasn’t so bad, those guys were just kidding wi… HOLY F%#$!!!! Slam on the brakes – baby this is a serious serious descent. I’m not kidding – to even lose it in a small way would be disastrous. It was described as the only track to get across the small valley, and was originally a fire break trail. Thing was STEEP, and it was rutted like some strange spiders web, with ruts up to and above the axel on my bike. And it was deep and long. I wondered if I should get off and walk down, but decided that it was probably MORE dangerous to try and walk down it and keep control of my bike. Inch by inch I slowly descended, wearing my breaks down to a new low and cramping my fingers from the force of breaking… Finally *PHEW* I’d made it, and I could raise my hand to wipe away the sheen of perspiration that had built up upon my forehead. There’s only one thing I could possibly think of that would be worse that going down that hill on that trail… that would be having to go UP it!
I’m not sure if it was the euphoria of having made it all the way, or the near death experience of the murder track – but it seemed to me that the last section pedalling into Dwellingup was the prettiest and most beautiful of the whole trail. As I got closer and closer to Dwellingup I went slower and slower – not wanting the trip to end. I held a conversation with a camper, staying nearby and reading his book in the late afternoon sun. I explored little side trails until finally… eventually I made my last turn and coasted down the hill into the town.
I’d finally made it! Having made arrangements earlier in the day for my partner to pick me up (she was working for Alcoa just around the corner!) I had nothing left to do but sit on a bench outside the Dwellingup Hotel and drink a “Victory Beer” in celebration of a magnificent trip.
PS: I’ve skipped over the part where I had my heinous stack ) Let’s just say that it was a decent sized descent, with rolling gravel, a sharp turn at the bottom combined with sand/gravel mix and PLENTY of speed! I flew from the bike landed on my shoulder, tore my jersey up a bit (and me too), and tumbled and rolled about a bit – otherwise it was uneventful ;o) [thank goodness for helmets!]
This article has been reproduced with with kind permission by Andrew Waugh & Munda Biddi Trail Foundation. © Andrew Waugh. Unauthorised use or reproduction prohibited.
Article by Andrew Waugh (2003)
All images are © Munda Biddi Trail Foundation. Used with kind permission.