Google Customer Reviews 
What started as an innocent scroll on YouTube searching for bikepacking films culminated a few months later in a crazy 30-ish hours of riding through the Brisbane Valley and its varying landscapes.
The @BikePackShop in Brisbane made a wonderful film late last year that followed a bunch of mates as they set out on a multi-day adventure and course scouting mission through the Brisbane Valley. Aptly named the ‘BPS400’, a 440km course which includes sections of the Brisbane Valley Rail Trail (BVRT), 4wd tracks and traverses cow tracks through private farmland- a wonderfully designed loop!
After watching the film, I instantly entered the event that BPS had planned for early January 2023. My uncle Russ has spent the last decade competing at the pointy end of the adventure races up around that area, so he was instantly keen when I asked him if he’d like to come along. He had one condition; we go for the FKT.
From something originally intended to test gear and the bike over a few days, quickly turned into something that would ultimately test us and our bodies. Could we ride non-stop for 30 hours to beat the current FKT of 31 hours??
Training
With approx. two months to prepare for the ride, my focus immediately turned to what kind of training I could realistically fit into the busiest time of the year. One thing that I tried to focus on was conditioning my body for the hot and humid conditions of Queensland. The sauna and hot-room classes became my best friend. Long hours on the bike were sadly few and far between in the beginning because, life. But classes before or after work were a terrific way of building strength and building some heat resilience. As the date got closer I started incorporating a long ride once or twice a week, which also gave me the opportunity to fine tune the bike set-up I was going to use on the day. My last big training day was Christmas eve, when I completed the Gippy Gold 200km course with only about an hour of non-ride time. Outside of this being a great physical effort, it also worked as a terrific mental hurdle, knowing that I could ride for 10h nonstop and still give it some gas at the end.
The Bike
Now to the important stuff; the bike! I decided to use my trusty Scott Scale hardtail MTB. It had carried me across the beautiful Kenai Peninsula in Alaska earlier in 2022 and quickly became my favourite bike to ride hard on.
My packing list was as minimal as possible. Prioritising food, water and emergency gear. That’s it.
I used a Revelate Shrew seat bag to carry an emergency bivvy, emergency 3L bladder, Apidura Packable Backpack, Pearl Izumi Summit Shell Jacket and Gerber Multi Tool. I used an Apidura Expedition Downtube pack for all my mechanical spares, tools and first aid kit, which I thankfully never had to open. 2x Hungry The Muncher Feedbags were stacked with food and a battery pack, so too were my jersey pockets. Leading my way was a Hammerhead Karoo 2 and lights from Exposure and Cateye kept the track visible for the night riding. And finally water. I had an Arundel Looney Bin on the seat tube with a 1L Nalgene and 2x Arundel Stainless cages with 1L Zefal Magnum bidons on my downtube thanks to the ever impressive Wolf Tooth Double Bottle Adapter.
The Ride
After a nice afternoon sleep and a 9pm dinner, we started the 2h drive to Ipswich for our planned 12am ride time. We arrived at Wulkuraka Train Station at around midnight, found a park and started getting ready. Bikes were packed and good to go. I personally wasn’t feeling as nervous as I thought I would be, just eager to start riding. There’s only so much prep you can do in the days and hours leading up to an event, and I felt I’d well and truly met my quota. Russ had been feeling quite sick in the days prior, so he decided to play it safe and stick to the BVRT and meet me periodically throughout the loop.
We set out at around 12.15am with a rough game plan in mind.
The first 67km of Rail Trail to Esk gave us a taste of confidence, but when we parted ways at Esk, things got a little harder in the hills to Blackbutt.
Russ was still feeling under the weather so opted to continue on the BVRT to Lynville and meet me for breakfast in Blackbutt. The few hours of riding as the sun came up over the rolling farmland hills was some of the nicest riding of the entire route. Blackbutt was the perfect little town for a quick avo and oat bar breakfast, a check in with Russ and top up my bidons. Less than 20 minutes later we parted ways once again, me on the 30km slog up to Nanango and Russ cruising back down to Lynville.
As a ‘road rider that owns a mountain bike’, I found the climbing and descending tough going through Old Coach Road. It was hot, plenty of hike a bike and took a lot longer than expected. I was a broken soldier when I arrived in Nanango, so I set myself a 30 minute timer to buy some lunch and relax a bit before the huge leg to Jimna. I was able to fuel up with a breaky wrap, a cheese and bacon roll and a coke. The last-minute call was also made to grab a 1L Gatorade for the back pocket and a few snickers bars, knowing that there weren’t going to be any resupplies for approx. 150km.
As many that have ridden this course can attest, setting out from Nanango I had one phrase creeping into my mind; Monsildale Creek Rd… Was it going to be as tough as everyone said? Yes. Between the deep sandy trails, dodging bulls and cows, opening and closing farm gates and endless river crossings, it was slow going and I couldn’t build much momentum. The sector was about 20km and based on other peoples’ recent attempts I was assuming it would take about two hours. I made the most of faster sections at the start and tried to bump my average speed up while the riding was good. Then came the flies, the cows, and the rivers.
I was counting down the kilometres as I rode my way through it, adamant I wouldn’t stop until I closed the final gate. In the end, it took around an hour twenty from start to finish, a time that gave me a huge morale boost.
At the intersection I took a moment under a big tree to get reprieve from the 5pm sun and had a bite to eat before the next leg to Jimna. I felt like hell, but I reminded myself that all I needed to do was make it to Jimna, then ‘cruise’ down to Kilcoy for ‘dinner’ and meet Russ. Turns out that was easier said than done. I was incredibly fatigued and hadn’t fuelled sufficiently; the climb really hurt.
Flavour fatigue had plagued me for the previous couple of hours, and would become an ongoing problem for much of the ride. Note to self- pack a wider variety of food next time!
I wish I was experiencing that climb on a cruisy Sunday evening ride, the sunset was stunning and the cooler temperature was a pleasant change from the stinking heat of the farmland below.
I got to Jimna around 6.45pm just as the sun was setting but didn’t wait around- I was desperate to get to Kilcoy. Knowing there’s a 24h truck stop and a familiar face in Russ to debrief with kept me going.
The sleep deprivation really kicked in on the descent and all the way to Kilcoy, having never done an event like this it was a totally unfamiliar feeling and quite disconcerting. The descent was a winding mountain road through the middle of a dense eucalypt forest and was pitch black. In my desperation I was bombing it, using every ounce of energy I had left to get down that hill. Looking back, I probably took far too many risks in the name of speed, but in the moment I didn’t care. There are very few moments that feel quite as exhilarating as flying down a road on a bike in the dark, with nothing but your bike lights creating a momentary path in front of you.
This path of light that was nothing but mine to follow was in an instant, shared with a very confused and startled wallaby. It got caught in my headlights and stopped directly in front of me, as I hurtled towards it at 50km/h. Both brakes locked up and before I knew it I had skimmed over the end of its tail and come to a complete stop; the wallaby bounding off into the distance, probably as shaken as I. With no time or energy to process what had happened, it was time to get moving again.
The neon lights of the Kilcoy BP were a magnificent sight, and so was the thick green grass that Russ had parked himself on. I was wrecked. Instantly collapsing as I mumbled to Russ about the pain I was in, he offered me a coke and a bag of chips- best dinner I’ve ever had. After a 15min nap on the grass, a toilet break and attempting to get some food down, we headed off for the final stretch.
Russ went into beast mode and kept the pace; he was also invaluable in helping me push through the exhaustion and self-doubt I was feeling. This definitely wasn’t a self-supported effort by me, without Russ, there was little chance I would’ve made it to the finish by sunrise. The kilometres seemingly refused to go down as we made it to Esk and turned onto the familiar 67km rail trail where it all began. It was a 7h mental battle for me, and a battle against the dreaded spider webs for both of us.
Unfortunately, my Hammerhead cycling computer died with about 22km to go, but I guess that’s all part of it.
As we made it to the concrete section into town, it finally became fun and I for one felt a huge sense of relief. As the clock ticked over 3:44am, we pulled into Wulkuraka Station marking the end of a 27hour and 20min effort that I’ll never forget.
