Huonbrook

I hadn't had a 200km+ ride for a while, and decided that last Sunday would be the ideal time to do it. The premise was a simple one: head south down the Tweed Coast toward Mullumbimby, ride into the hills for a while, then ride home over the Burringbar range and surrounding hills. A huge northerly wind early in the ride propelled me down the Tweed Coast quickly enough, but with it came a dramatic increase in temperatures. The heat would present problems later.

The Tweed Valley/Brunswick Valley way has finally been completed and provides a smooth, easy ride into Mullumbimby if you take in the climb over Coolamon to get there. It's a pretty stretch, but not nearly as pretty as the world that opens up on Wilson's Creek Road to the south of Mullum. Here green is the dominant colour, with rainforests in the valley, and mountains closing in from all sides. There's a possibility to follow the Huonbrook road all the way to Minyon Falls, but I'll save that for a weekend tour later.

The greenery here provided some relief from the heat, but it was only temporary. The return to Mullumbimby saw the temperature rise to 33 degrees C. For variety I opted to detour across to Brunswick Heads for the return home. Then on a whim I detoured again along Saddle Road. This is a dirt road somewhere between Mullumbimby and Brunswick heads that climbs a ridge which, on a clearer day, would have offered sweeping views in all directions. There are also patches of forest to ride through. I know I'll need to find a way to take this detour more often.


Any hope that returning to the coast would have cooled temperatures was a total waste of time, the mercury hit 34 C at Brunswick Heads, and 35 soon after. The combination of heat and headwind meant that the ride home was always going to take a long time. I settled in for a grind, punctuated only by the hills of the Burringbar Range, and the rainforest of Urliup further north. Riding without power is an interesting experience, but one that I'll need to get used to if these temperatures are any indication of the next six months. A storm closed in later on and cooled things for the final suburban coastal stretch, but I was left wishing it had arrived three hours earlier.
Overall it was extremely rewarding to return to the Wilsons Creek/Huonbrook area. I'm still searching for the link from Wilson's Creek to Doon Doon near Uki on the other side of the Tweed Valley. That route, if possible, would have the small matter of Mt Jerusalem to contend with, but that somehow makes it all the more interesting.

The Garden of Eden returns

Not content with doing a century on the Anzac Day weekend (would you believe it was now two weeks ago), I backed up for another 100km on the MTB the next day. I joined Martin for a ride up Tomewin and across the dirt track that I had previously thought closed across the range and back to Bilambil. The early part of the ride involved negotiating the annual litter fest that passes for the Anzac Day Parade at Currumbin. One wonders just how people can claim to "respect" the sacrifices made by the soldiers of generations past when they dump their rubbish all over the country these brave men fought to protect.

After negotiating the ride to the summit of Tomewin, it was time for the real ride to start. The dirt track across the top here really passes through some amazing scenery, and as far as I'm concerned, the fact that parts of it are extremely rough is even better, it means I can slow down and enjoy the scenery. What surprised me today was how easily these rough parts were negotiated, given the rain that had fallen overnight, and the mud it had generated.

We crested the summit after the ride through the rainforest, and eventually took the long descent into Bilambil. This is actually quite deceptive as the initial descent is followed by a couple of climbs as the road winds around the hills, before the final 'landing' at Bilambil. Another beautiful day was racked up, the only disappointment was that the bakery at the bottom of the hill hasn't won an award since 2007. Lift your game, boys!

Squash update

Man oh man are Zephyrs good! I had a little slice raw and thought "ok". But the flavor really comes out with cooking. Mmmm. Here's the recipe I used:
Cut the tip ends off, and boil the squash or zucchini until the skin pierces easily with a fork. Slice in half lengthwise, and make a few light cross-cuts on the open faces. Spread with melted butter or squeeze margarine. Sprinkle with seasoned salt and a little Parmesan cheese. Broil until the cheese is browned, about 5 minutes.
I wrote about this recipe once before - click there if you want to see a picture of the finished product.
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I worked the garden hotline last week, and one of the calls was about problems with squash. The caller asked if she should put Sevin dust (Carbaryl) on the leaves. A lot of people don't realize that Sevin is extremely toxic to bees. And bees pollinate squash. So no, I wouldn't recommend it! The bees seem to be having a hard enough time lately as it is.
If you must use an insecticide on your squash, apply it at dusk, when it will probably harm beneficial insects the least.
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There is an interesting Cucurbit Disease key by Vegetable MD online (from Cornell).
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The other squash in the picture is a pattypan or scallop type squash, Flying Saucer. Haven't eaten it yet - review on that one later!

Last snow of the winter?

For most of the winter we have been in a snow-free bubble in Edinburgh. The rest of Scotland, and even the rest of the UK, have had dumps of snow. Traffic-stopping, school-closing snow. So it was a surprise to travel north through the central Highlands the other weekend and discover the white stuff. Above, Blair Atholl. Below, a desolate scene at the Drumochter Pass.



Herds of deer were foraging near the road.



Blank hillsides - hard to remember that these were vibrant with purple heather a few months ago.



On the lower hillsides of Speyside the snow had all but vanished. Is it wishful thinking that there is a slight haze of spring buds about the trees?

New life

Discovered on a walk by the River Spey yesterday. A patch of precocious green, and not just a few shoots, but burgeoning flower heads.

Their habitat was an east-facing mossy bank, scattered with fallen leaves, and in dappled sun. Sheltered from the prevailing westerly and northerly winds, and above all but the very highest reach of the river in spate.

And flowering - delicate, deeply divided individual flowers emerging from fresh green bracts, some of them frost-burned.

I turned to the family copy of the Collins Pocket Guide to Wild Flowers. First printed 1955, ours is the seventh edition, 1969. No first edition, sadly, as for our Reader's Digest 'The Gardening Year'.

When my mother and I used to use it to identify flowers we found on our walks, we would invariably discover that we had whittled the possibilities down to something extremely rare and confined to the south of England. The explanation of the star system used by the Collins guide has a schoolmasterly tone, "We have devised a star system to show how common or rare a plant is, to add to the pleasure of finding something uncommon, and to discourage rash identification of unlikely rarities". Continuing in that fine tradition of pleasure rapidly followed by discouragement, my first stab this time turned out to have three stars for rarity, and to be "confined to woods and copses in one small area in E Sussex. Flowers June-July". A second attempt gave me the satisfyingly Lord of the Rings sounding White Butterbur, two stars for rarity and "local in plantations and by roadsides, chiefly in the N". A quick cross-check with photos on the internet (the Collins guide is illustrated by line drawings), and I'm sure that it is indeed White Butterbur. The two star rarity is for scarce plants "which usually grow only in limited areas, but may be thinly scattered over a wide area". White Butterbur is apparently an early flowering plant, so its January appearance is not a cause for climate change concern.
With this stirring of new life even in the north of Scotland, I'd like to wish all my readers and commenters a Happy New Year. Who knows where blogging will lead us in ... Writing this post, I found myself wondering about taking a botany course at the Royal Botanic Gardens in Edinburgh...I'd be interested to hear where blogging has led or might lead you.