B U L A D E L A H // GRAVEL GOODNESS
Anyone who's driven north from Sydney knows Buladelah. The road doesn't go through town these days, but it still has to wind around and up some serious hills. In fact, the area is basically mountains disguised as countryside. So when some of our Velo crew started eyeing up Goodness Gravel’s Buladelah Edition, the comments were predictable: "You know how much climbing there is up there?" "That's nuts!"
That's the thing about gravel riding. After one gravel soul signed up, others felt the gravitational pull of not wanting to miss out. Three adventurers committed to what would be a memorable weekend.
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Sean had just returned from a week of doing absolutely nothing in the Maldives. Steve was grinning ear to ear at the prospect of gravel and country riding – that infectious enthusiasm that reminds you why we do this stuff.
As we drove north on Friday night, the rain was coming down hard. We could only trust what the weather forecast promised – that it would stop. Because what's the alternative when you're already committed?
Sean rocked up at the Buladelah Motor Lodge just after I did, which was genuinely surprising. I suspect it was the combination of his excitement for the new gravel bike and a fresh job that made him punctual. Sean's been a notorious no-show to gravel events in the past, so this was already a win.
The motor lodge was full, packed with cyclists crowding on Buladelah for one thing. It's funny how a small country town can suddenly become gravel central when Goodness Gravel rolls into town.
Immediately after arriving, we headed to register at the Bowling Club and grab some food. The club was also full and a mix of locals and out-of-town cyclists - it was hilariously easy to spot who was who.
The rain had stopped overnight – the first victory of the day! While water drains from gravel roads pretty well, they'd transformed into their slightly muddy personality rather than the dry, dusty version we'd hoped for. Will it rain again? Rain jacket or not? We went with optimism – no rain jackets, banking on blue skies appearing somewhere during the day.
A quick coffee on Main Street and we were as ready as we could be to conquer whatever Buladelah's backroads had in store. We were sure that the rain encouraged some others to sleep in and choose the shorter 80km route.
The backroads of Buladelah were pure magic. Silent except for piercing squawks from the birds above us and that squelching of gravel bikes on muddy roads. It's remarkable how quickly civilisation disappears when you're surrounded by nothing but country sights and sounds and pedaling rhythms.
The roads kept throwing variety at us – farms giving way to rural homesteads, bush replacing paddocks, and climbs that reminded us that we were in Buladelah. The scenery constantly shifted, keeping our minds occupied as we looked around to distract from the burn in our legs.
We tackled the full 122km loop, stopping briefly at the two rest stations for water. The locals manning these stops were absolute legends – there's something special about volunteers who give up their weekend to proudly show off their local area and keep us gravel addicts hydrated and motivated.
No cars anywhere. Just us, the road, and photographers from OuterImage capturing our various states of determination and suffering. One brilliant thing about Goodness Gravel is photos making you look good are included with the entry fee!
At one point we were discussing the water crossings... 'I'm sure there were supposed to be some water crossings?!?' And then, as if on cue, we hit them in quick succession. Weirs submerged under bulging rivers provided the perfect opportunity to rinse the caked mud from our shoes.
As we approached the final 20km, Sean announced that his body was having serious words with him, "What the hell is going on? This is nothing like what we were doing in the Maldives!"
We pushed through the last rollers and turns, already discussing our post-ride admin. The plan was to hang bikes on cars as quickly as possible and drive home as-is. Steve, smartly dressed in long bibs for warmth also managed to stay relatively clean compared to the rest of us. With his skin protected from mud, his plan to change into clean clothes for the drive seemed almost luxurious.
Two kilometres from the finish (only two kilometres!) Sean punctured - his tubeless tire spraying sealant like a lawn sprinkler. He was genuinely miffed about his new tires taking a hit, instinctively wanting to tube them, but I wasn't having any of that tubeless blasphemy. A quick plug sorted us out.
The post-ride sausage sandwich, fake beer, and Lindt ball. It’s amazing how something so simple tastes incredible when you've just come off 100+kms of gravel. Wet and cold, we jumped straight into our cars without showering, and drove back to Sydney - still dirty and fragrant - to get ready for MC's 50th celebration ride the next day. By the time I got home, the car stank like a locker room - next time we're definitely bringing towels for the showground showers.
Buladelah was a brilliant event that reminded us again why gravel delivers – the challenge, the community, the scenery.
Don't miss the next one. We won’t.
Ready to test yourself on some proper gravel? Keep your eyes peeled for the next MC Velo gravel outing. You'll love every minute of it.
