“We’ve got to ride out to Greenhills again” – my friend Greg remarks on a sunny Sunday over a beer at our local suburban pub.
As he put it, what better way to spend a weekend than on the “road less travelled”; my similarly cycling-mad friends and I could not agree more.
Greenhills, about 120km east of Perth as the crow flies, is a historic farming town that features a Federation style hotel and several restored buildings from the late 1800s and early 1900s.
Surrounded by hundreds of kilometres of unsealed roads, it is a drawcard for gravel enthusiasts.
Given its proximity from Perth it is worth setting a weekend aside to enjoy its rustic beauty, which is exactly what I and seven of my close friends did.
Greg – aka “Mo” (for his plentiful and well-manicured moustache) meticulously mapped out a route that took in as much gravel as possible with bailout road options in most stretches.
We had the luxury of a support vehicle, with a fellow rider having recently purchased a camper trailer and his wife kindly offering to drive the route.
This made it much easier as it eliminated the need for cumbersome saddle or bar bags, but the ride is definitely possible without support.
We set out from Perth early on a December morning, with a 36C forecast making us eager to get the city bitumen out the way.
A short ride along the bike path takes us into Ascot’s Garvey Park, where the off-road adventure begins – weaving our way through trees along singletrack puts an instant smile on our faces.
We pull in at Guildford’s Willing Coffee for a caffeine hit – a small but significant café in Perth’s eastern suburbs that has gained a reputation amongst cyclists thanks to its owner, former Australian track cycling champion Tim Willing.
Popular amongst riders, Willing Coffee’s almond croissant is a must try.
With fresh legs we head for our first proper gravel section of the day – “sector one” as Mo described it – the heritage trail.
An old railway route, the trail runs from Perth’s foothills and through the semi-rural towns of Parkerville, Stoneville and Mundaring.
We rode the northern side of the track for about 20km before we hit Chidlow, where another sustenance stop is in order.
Chidlow’s Baytree Bakery does not disappoint, with an array of cakes, slices, pies and pasties to satisfy any hungry traveller.
I am more focused on fluid intake at that point and promptly guzzle a Powerade.
About 50km into our ride, we know the most gruelling part of the day was imminent.
The Kep track, which runs 75km from Mundaring to Northam, consists of enough deep gravel and sandy patches to throw you off balance and steady inclines to keep you working hard.
Grinding along the trail I find it easier than I remembered but still slippery in sections, perfectly do-able on a gravel bike.
We stop for a short while as my comrade Andrew fixed a flat, as we spout the virtues of tubeless tyres given he has tubes.
It was all in jest and we merrily pushed on to the next stop – Baker’s Hill Pie Shop.
Considered an institution by riders in the endurance and gravel scenes, not to mention truckies and road trippers, the pie shop boasts such a wide selection of quality pies, pastries, cakes and slices it has become an essential stopping point for most that pass by.
By this point I am famished, so I treat myself to a Cornish pastie and reminisce on the last time such flavours passed my lips in England many moons ago.
From here our ride ventures south towards the historic agricultural town of York, famous for its motor museum, its country-style pubs and unique charm only rural Australia provides.
The sun bakes on our backs as we grind along the copious gravel tracks lining the farmland in the region, spotting the occasional harvester methodically propelling through ripe crops.
Our group is split when a mob of sheep wander across the road promptly followed by an anxious farmer in a ute directing his stock back into paddocks nearby.
“You can’t get much more country than this” – I think to myself.
We hit York thirsty and fatigued, but it is nothing that can’t be remedied by a refreshing beverage at artisan café Botanicalia – a quaint venue on the main street of York nestled alongside an art gallery.
As we replenish ourselves a couple sit perched on the leather seats of a vintage car come rolling past at a snail’s pace, grinning in the open air as the engine chugs along.
We cool our heads using water from a nearby tap in preparation for the final leg to Greenhills.
We roll along stretches of gravel and road, noticing the increased temperature of the latter but appreciating its lower rolling resistance.
With more than 150km in my legs I was elated to see the wheat silos and solitary pub of Greenhills, surrounded by seemingly endless acres of farmland and little else.
We roll into the grounds of the historic hotel and straight through the doors for the refreshing ale that has been top of mind for the last few hours.
Greeted with warm country hospitality from the pub’s owners we are shown a place to put our bikes and provided fresh towels for a shower upstairs.
The bar itself is stacked with charm, with $10, $20, even $100 bills stuck to the roof (we still cannot work out why), names on the bar stools, antique collectables peppered throughout and impressive dining rooms with Chesterfields and chandeliers.
“A sight for sore eyes” my buddy Bec had remarked as we rolled into Greenhills Inn.
For caravanners it contains a free camping area, a spacious area a stone’s throw from the bar and restaurant.
We wile the night away swapping stories and fuelling for the following day, with standard pub fare providing hearty sustenance. I chose the ‘sea chook’ – a combination of chicken and prawn on a bed of thick cut chips – safe to say I inhaled it after such a long day in the saddle.
We emerge bleary-eyed but keen to hit the gravel the following day, winding back to York to the same café for a much-needed coffee after a quick bite of toast at the hotel.
Our route back follows a slightly different path to the way we came, as we track along the unsealed roads further south than the day prior.
Maylands’ Seasonal Brewing was our goal destination – at less than 10km from Perth our work was largely done.
After about six hours on the bike I was ready to top off my day with a freshly poured brew from the bustling brewery, which has purpose-built to lock our bikes along its perimeter.
I slump on my couch after I arrive home that evening, in a state of bliss for the memories I’d forged during the weekend and with a lingering desire to do it all again.
Strava:
https://www.strava.com/activities/4465406712 (day 1)
https://www.strava.com/activities/4465407172 (day 2)