Can't Believe it Doesn't Have An Engine

 This morning,  in light rain I took 'Cliffy' to play on the bush and the beach. 

But I'm nervous; will my bike hold up,  will I hold up or end up pushing most of the time? I needn't have worried a jot. 

Ok, before every downhill comes an uphill.  Well mostly.  I selected a quite suburban street and as luck would have it,  half the distance was closed to car traffic because they were digging the road up.  But Cliffy impressed the flag man and we were invited through. We then Henning a private paved road into the Glenrock National Park. Many MTBs would be familiar with this area because the NPWS encourages bikes to use the area and it's riddled with trails. 

But, today I had little interest in any trails. I was ready to hit the beach.  I met two mtb riders going the opposite way,  in light rain we just gads a wave and a few hellos. Up ahead a spray of sand entered the main track.  That's me! Gulp, a small dune. What! My fatty went onto the sand like it was grass.  No drag,  no sinking,  no extra effort,  we just cruised along like on a hovercraft! Up the dune,  down into the soft sand at the beach head. Easy!

I even toffee sideways on soft sand to test out of we were going to get bogged, but nope,  we just kept floating along.  I laughed out all my apprehensions about Cliffy's ability on soft sand and my own ability to ride the beach.  I looked up through light rain along a kilometre of beach and there was no-one about.  The tide was out,  but it didn't really matter where we went.  With little tracks left behind,  we just skimmed along easily,  not even having to keep pedaling.  So this is what fatbikes are all about.  I had two roughly headlands to round.  Both had shelves of shale rock running to the ocean before dropping off.  Yep, more easy and enjoyable riding.  Anything less that 6 inches in height was virtually undetected,  we just scrambled over.  

Rusty steel remains of the old Coffee Pot takin from the late 1800s were submerged inn the surf.  Still there unchanged from when I  first sad then when I explained was a kid.I was so relaxed now,  I took time to look up at my surroundings,  sandstone cliffs crumbling overhead,  grey shale shelf of to a rain swept ocean.  Beyond coal ships,  grey and misty on the horizon.  

Too quickly we ran out off beach.  At Merewether Baths,  I padded a little rocky beach where I learnt to surf,  standing on rocks weigh board under arm and jumping into tiny waves as they came. Standing legs apart for stability,  trying to shoot across the wave face. Huh!

From the baths I had the option to stay on the pavement,  but chose instead to hit the sand.  Three were very few people about,  about 6 surfers off The Rocks break where I spent many hundreds of hours during my child and teen years. I padded a surfer about to enter the water,  still moving easily,  no sweat.  Along Merewether Beach to Dixon Park Beach,  both heavily eroded by recent storms.  I had both beaches to myself and at DP I simply rode up into three soft sand onto the ramp and up past the showers, without stopping.  

What an amazing experience.  Beach touring possibilities are a very real option for future route planning. Not only possible,  but enjoyable,  easy and fun.