Federal Gravel 2025
Federal Gravel ride was a 10-day bikepacking adventure, not a race, covering the vast, contrasting landscapes from Canberra to Melbourne (and back). The ride was a pure pursuit of the journey and camaraderie, all while raising funds for a good cause.
The crew knew the unpredictable mountain high country weather would find them, especially after 15cm of snow fell in the Victorian Alps just days before.
The High Country: Canberra to Albury
This was a baptism by fire, immediately plunging us into the extremes of the Snowy Mountains.
Headwinds, Heat, and Alpine Flies
Rolling out of Canberra, the initial hours were deceptively smooth, offering quiet tarmac and bushland humming with birds. However, we soon met high-energy alpine flies and plenty of roadkill to avoid.
The final 20 kms was a biblical hair-dryer-on-full-blast punishment of a hot headwind, combined with climbing across the tablelands. This brutal combination of heat and wind drained bidons and hammered all of us into Adaminiby. James had enough ans simply raced away to finish the day as soon as he could.
The cumulative effort of the first day proved much harder than the 2,007m ascent suggested. Adaminiby served as the first stop, with the local Snowgoose hotel, full of locals and workers for the Snowy 2.0 project, as tired lycra-clad riders sought refuge.
Storms and Winds
Adaminiby to Corryong began with rolling thunder overnight, providing an ominous wake-up call. The day was defined by relentless climbing, climbing, climbing into the Kosciuszko National Park, where a wild alpine headwind found us on each of the ascents. The sheer effort of the day involved a total ascent of 2,727m.
Vast sections of hillside were lined with stark, skeletal remains of the 2020 bushfires, with white trunks stretching like ghostly pickets across the ridgelines. We took an opportune shelter in Bradley & O’Brien’s Hut just minutes before a fast-moving storm cracked overhead, bringing intense hail to pound the tin roof. When the storm passed, the late-afternoon light made the park glow with wet green foliage shining. We rode on, eventually arriving in Corryong, with moments before the IGA closed allowing us to panic buy food for the next day.
Rail Trails
Our journey from Corryong to Albury offered a reprieve, joining the glorious High Country Rail Trail near Lake Hume. This long, sweeping downhill gravel section provided a moment of easy pedaling, feeling like we were riding through a postcard.
We rolled into Albury, marking the end of the first major phase.
The Freeze: Albury to Warburton
This delivered both scenic rewards of the Victorian rail trail network and the most brutal conditions of the trip.
A reasonably calm day started with breakfast and coffee in Wodonga, before climbing toward Beechworth. By the end of the day we dipped into the King Valley, which offered vineyards and flats framed by ridgelines fading into the blue sky. It felt like Victoria wanted us to have a nice time.
The Coldest Day Ever
Our fifth day riding delivered a freezing ordeal, despite initial optimism that we might "thread the needle" between showers. As we climbed toward the Tolmie highlands, the temperature dropped like someone had unplugged summer. Freezing rain, sleet, and wind gusts that pushed bikes sideways turning us into shivering icicles. Jackets soaked through and brakes squealed with conversation ceasing, replaced by small grunts of disbelief.
After seeking shelter in the bakery at Mansfield, we saw footage of Mt Buller, the mountain above us, covered in fresh snow. We pushed on toward Alexandra, where we all took turns thawing under the pub's warm air-conditioning vent.
This day was universally described as the coldest day ever on a bike. There were very few photos taken this day, which says everything.
Warby Cathedrals
The route from Alexandra to Warburton was properly cold, with the maximum temperature not getting above 8°C. The cycling here was magnificent - steady, winding climbing through forests that felt like cathedrals. Towering Mountain Ash, the tallest flowering plants in the world, rose above us like living skyscrapers. The air was "clean and minty" after days of cold rain, but our bodies were too chilled and tired to articulate anything more sophisticated than 'wow'. We then enjoyed the long, smooth descent into Warburton before settling in at the pub to relax for dinner.
The Deadline: Warburton to Melbourne (for Albury)
Today was only about one thing - to make the 12 pm train from Melbourne's Southern Cross Station.
The morning began with an early, cold start. Legs were tired but turning over as we inhaled breakfast at the Warburton Bakery, which was so popular staff hadn't finished setting up the barriers when we arrived. The initial kilometres along the rail trail were smooth and quiet. A rattling stick briefly caused nervous suspicion of a broken spoke - a relief when it wasn't, as I was already operating on a "ride gently" mode after losing a spoke and nipple the day before.
We then joined the Yarra Trail and Kew Boulevard, that delivered its usual magic of shaded river flats, swooping curves, stone bridges, and long corridors of plane trees forming green tunnels. The cumulative riding effort was now making itself known. As we approached the inner suburbs, the peaceful parklands gave way to joggers and commuters as our dust-covered pack rolled into the city like a touring circus that had taken a wrong turn.
The successful sprint into Melbourne meant arriving at Southern Cross Station with just enough time to spare. However, the cumulative cold caused Sean to abandon the return journey. His plan to fly home was immediately doomed, as he was traveling without a bike box, his passport was in Sydney, and his car keys were in the support car that was currently heading towards Albury. The rest of us wedged onto a packed train with many AC/DC fans, and headed back to Albury.
Let’s ride back: Albury to Canberra
With support vehicle and driver Clinton now onboard, this final phase was about closing the loop, contrasting the immense effort of the first half with the pure joy of riding bikes without bags.
Riding Perfection
The return section from Albury to Corryong was shouted by all as riding perfection. Liberated from carrying our 7 kgs of gear, this was a rediscovery of what a bike actually feels like. We rejoined the High Country Rail Trail, which felt even more spectacular the second time around. We could even see snow on the distant mountains, a surreal contrast to the current warm air. The day culminated in a long, flowing, grin-inducing 45km open descent into Corryong. The heat intensified, and against the health advice of the caretaker, the quick dip in the motel pool felt like diving into an ice bath.
Our ninth day riding involved another grueling, supported ascent into the Snowy Mountains toward Adaminiby. The air cooled quickly and the winds picked up, with the landscape shifting through its Alpine moods. The racing snakes, Tim and James, were exposed to strong wind gusts that required a firm grip on the bike as they pushed across the open alpine ridges.
The Final Error
The final day was meant to be a simple coast back to Canberra. Instead, Tim, today’s self-appointed navigator, confidently took a right turn, ignoring the Garmins and simultaneously watching the distance to Canberra increase. The beautiful road, combined with a strong tailwind and open Monaro plains, was too attractive to worry about where we were headed. Nobody seemed worried that we were now committed to Cooma, and the final leg had ballooned from the expected 85kms to 150+kms.
It resulted in a strategic retreat to Cooma, where we all sought refuge in a cafe. The adventure concluded when Clinton, now our "support legend," rescued us with a support car to leapfrog around the Monaro Highway and get everyone back to Canberra safely.
The numbers:
- 10 riders on 10 days riding across Snowies, Upper Murray, High Country & Yarra Ranges covering 1,130 kms 16,324 m
- 4 national parks traversed
- -0°C to 37°C temperature range experienced
- All weather in one trip (heat, wind, sideways rain, sleet, snow)
- 1 puncture
- 1 broken spoke and lost nipple
- 1 thong lost forever
- 1 echidna spotted
- 1 emergency support driver flown in
- 1 simple but massive wrong turn
This adventure raised money for Pathway Club’s Peter Ferguson Fund for Refugee Families.
