I love the outdoors. Whether I’m walking, pedalling or paddling, the commonality is the absolute engrossment in nature. Experiencing the wilderness by hiking is analogous to reading a good book; there is time for nuance, pauses, and doubling back to revel in details. Cycling however, is like watching an action movie. It propels you at a speed through the landscape, with changes in colours and smells presented at a pace that hiking alone could never mimic. Meanwhile kayaking is theatre; it is a private show, away from the masses, often at locations otherwise inaccessible, with complete immersion in the experience.
Given Restile had received a gorgeous mountain bike for her birthday in early December, plans had been made for a Boxing Day trail attack.
I’ve personally been cycling as long as I can remember. I first learnt to ride a bicycle around the age of eight. I remember distinctly, it was a pink-and-purple second-hand affair which I am grateful for. I learnt to cycle without training wheels; my training wheels were my father running after me full-steam as I pedalled away, to catch me if I fell sideways. It’s tangible experiences like these I hope to emulate one day if I’m fortunate enough to become a parent.
I readily outgrew my first bicycle, mostly spurred on by my wanting to keep up with the Joneses. A few of my friends from school had gotten new bicycles, and soon I was complaining to my folks that my bicycle was a “rusty heap of junk”. The next birthday, my parents being the benchmarks that they are, surprised me with a brand new bike. This was a Huffy dual-suspension setup, painted a devilish black and red, and absolute eye-candy to a 10-year old. This bike is what really sparked my love for riding. For the next two years, I would spend countless afternoons riding around the suburban streets of Epping, exploring every nook, cranny, trail and hill around our family home.
The next chapter of my cycling career came many years later. My best friend had suggested we purchase road bikes, and given our mutual affinity for gear, and our incredibly low threshold toward peer-pressure, we did. We went on many rides together, however ultimately, I learnt very quickly that road-cycling, at least in Sydney, is a dangerous pastime. Most drivers have an (understandably) deep-rooted hatred towards cyclists, and it was this omnipresent risk that prevented me from ever really pursuing road bikes further.
Fast-forward to this year, and I find myself full-circle with another mountain bike.
There is something inexplicably attractive about bicycles. Maybe it’s the magic of their gyroscopic physics, maybe it’s the simplicity of the machine itself. Whatever the elusive allure, I find myself drawn and redrawn to bicycles like countless others.
Suffice to say, I (very easily) peer pressured my best friends also into buying mountain bikes with promises of adventure. As for Restile, I just bought her one, and the Boxing Day ride was organised.
Getting There
Shaws Ridge Trail is located in the town of Winmalee and is approximately an hour drive from Sydney, easily accessible via the M4 and Great Western Highway. There is ample parking at the cul-de-sac end of White Cross Road.
The Ride
The trail is a 10km loop trail, best attacked in a counter-clockwise direction. The initial sections of the route are well-formed gravel fire-trails. The trail then descends steeply towards the valley and Blue Gum Swamp, with a number of wide-yet-hairy hairpin turns. It would be wise to ensure brakes are in good working order before the descent. The trail then follows the valley basin adjacent Blue Gum Swamp Creek.
It is here that the majestic Blue Gums reach grand heights, and the undergrowth is dominated by ferns in the damp low-light of the gum canopy far above.
The trail features three small creek crossings which can be easily ridden through, before meandering back south. Here the ascent is reasonable, climbing approximately 150 metres in elevation over the last 800m of the ride. Whilst the ascent is not difficult, it will certainly get the blood pumping. Being a loop, there are no logistical issues, and for those who like a bit more of a challenge, just simply do another lap!
During the ride, we startled one jumbo-sized goanna, as well as a sizeable red-belly-black snake. It’s imperative to carry a snake bandage at the minimum in terms of first-aid as the difference between having and not having one may be life in death.
The Eats
The topic of El-Jannah’s chicken seems a polarising one in Sydney food circles. On one end of the spectrum, you have those who swear that the savoury marinade of the chicken is second-to-none, and EJ’s remains the trump card of charcoal chicken. The other end of the camp insist the bird is overdone and dry in comparison to poultry propositions from Hawa’s or Frangos.
Regardless of where you sit in this debate, I think common-ground can always be found in the EJ’s wraps, which in my opinion, are simply a fantastic balance of chicken, pickles, crunchy toasted Lebanese bread, and the God-send condiment known as toum.
The bad news here is that after our collective calorie-burning climb, we were all too ravenous to remember to take photos of our cheap eats. The good news however, is that we ate good food, in better company, on the banks of the Nepean.