Lake Mountain, Marysville, Victoria

22 April 2017

It has rained the night before. Not only is it wet, but cold. I turn into Murchison St, the main street of Marysville. I nod to a cyclist; he’s walking his bike and has a towel – seems as though others might have already been riding Lake Mountain today so I’m buoyed, despite the weather. Let’s face it, Marysville is quite delightful in this kind of weather, the cold, damp, cloudy, misty; it is a quaint little town, quirky in places, unassuming and unconcerned with who comes and goes. I cross the Steavenson River, at this point just a small creek or ‘brook’ lined with tree ferns and grassy banks. Water gurgles its way over rust-like pebbles, fresh and cold and adding to the naturalness of the place.

I head right at the round-about and immediately fog and cloud begins to dampen my clothing and spirits. Are we all fair-weather-riders or do some riders actually love riding in the wet? Perhaps naively, I jump up out of the seat and aim to pick up speed and put this initial hill quickly behind me only to sit back down again and take the gears down a notch. It’s a bit steeper than I thought – I have just headed out of Marysville and the climb seems to have really started. I had read some blogs on this climb and each seemed to suggest that it begins immediately, but, again perhaps naively, just thought that was normal – a gradual start to ease us in. Not so in this case – I shift down another couple of gears and jump out of the seat again to gain some momentum. The road seems to keep going up at increasing gradient and I realise I’m already in the lowest gear.

The first four and a half kilometres of the climb out of Marysville to Lake Mountain is steep – the Strava segment suggests this section is around eight percent gradient. For a keen, yet part-time cyclist, this is tough. As I churn through this section, which is really all that can be done, I stop my music and listen to, well, nothing. But it’s not ‘nothing’, it is something but it needs to be listened to – birds, breeze, mist in the trees and a spirit of place. This place is amazing. But reality pries its way back into my reverie and I realise I’m doing about five ks an hour. I mentioned to Kaye that I’d maybe be at the top in an hour or so, but at about four kms up the hill, I’m thinking that’s quite optimistic, particularly at this rate of ascent. I thought this hill was a 4.5% gradient overall and now I’m beginning to wonder if I read that incorrectly. Up out of the seat again, turn pedals a few time, back in the seat, slowly…

The climb flattens at about five and a half kms and I emerge onto a false-flat. I pull over, take a photo to capture a sense of the place and text Kaye…

I enjoy the easier incline and gather some energy and momentum. The scenery is eerily spectacular and changes regularly from misty, steep voids to huge mountain ash, in reverent sentry-like repose, everywhere silent. Traveling at ten to fifteen kms per hour allows an appreciation that would not be as easy in a car, even as a passenger. The impact of the 2009 fires is still evident in this landscape; tall bare trees with smudges of blackened trunks and tufts of green. The bush at ground level has grown back, but evidence of the devastation of fire remains in the heart of the tall trees. The incline is much more manageable now and the sweat still drips, but I cool down a little.

At the ten kilometre mark the road angles downwards and the relief is distinct – it is slippery in the wet but there is nothing around to concern a lone cyclist, except the occasional dead frog on the edge of the road. I wonder if these were idealistic frogs, who tried to make new lives for themselves on the other side of the road only to either drown or, in an attempt to take on a force much greater than itself, were a poor match. This, I reflect, happens in the human world and I wonder if it is idealism or if it should just be life. I reach the Lake Mountain turn-off and head up towards the entry gates to the alpine resort.

After working stealthily through the tall mountain ash guarding the mountain, the landscape changes to a rocky, clustered, wind-blown snow gum-looking one. The ride from here is pretty consistent – about three or four percent gradient with an occasional rise to about seven percent. The cold begins to seep in through the seams of my jacket and I want to stop to zip it up but I figure I’m nearly there so I continue on.

It is cold up here and it is only the warmth from pedaling the incessant incline that allows me to continue. There are a few car parks to the right, a toboggan run to the left and movement – perhaps a wallaby – ahead. I emerge into the car park of the Lake Mountain resort area and see the word ‘Cafe’. I haven’t had a coffee yet today, but I think I’ll decline today – I’ve got a long descent and the weather is really cold. I’ll appreciate coffee maybe a bit more at the other end. I’m pretty pleased as I check Kaye’s location as she drives up the road. I’ve made it – another peak!

The Lake Mountain ride, Strava lets me know, is 20.5km, 932m ascended, 5% gradient and it has taken me 1 hour 30 mins and 51 seconds. The hour to the top was a bit presumptuous – I should have more respect!