Flow Mountain Bike acknowledges the Traditional Owners of West Coast Tasmania, the Toogee People. We recognise their connection to lands, waters and communities and pay our respect to Elders past, present and emerging.
Prelude: The Gathering in Maydena, the Adventure Begins, so Press Play
Our adventure began in the bustling Maydena Bike Park following a week of warm and dry conditions; we had wrapped up our presentation at the 2023 Destination Forum, speaking to a room full of eager ears about the media landscape, destination marketing and content creation. So, Jono and I were feeling very inspired, curious, and ready for anything.
Here, Kristina, an incredibly talented photographer and recent winner of the AMB Photographer of the Year Award, myself, Mick Ross, Flow’s General Manager and good times orchestrator Jono ‘Jetpack Jono’, and Maydena Mogul and professional holiday photographer, Chris ‘Posh Boy Sansom’, geared up for an adventure to sign out 2023 with a bang.
We were ready, equipped with bikes, cameras, GoPros, and, notably, Jono’s beloved beef rendang-flavoured potato chips. Awaiting us was the wildly accommodating and remarkably well-informed on the Tasmanian things, hailing from Deloraine, Paddy Sheehan from Into The Wild, dressed in colours to match their welcoming and plush minibus and an impressively customised bike trailer. Ooooh, this was gonna be good!
💥 Watch the Heli-Biking shot on GoPro Hero12, riding the Silver City Trails! Whoaaa yeah! 🤯
Leaving Maydena, our route unfurled into the heart of Tasmania’s captivating west, a drive I’ve done many times over many years, but still, it never feels the same, and I absolutely love it. We were not just driving a road, but also cruising through history, nature, and some pretty wild musical genres, thanks to Paddy’s eclectic playlist. Picture this: ancient forests, ever-changing colours, echoing with the sounds of the ’70s, and ’80s, and a sprinkle of today’s hits, all curated by Paddy in a Spotify playlist that could only be described as ‘random AF’. His brother, Rohan, on our return journey (read on), had his own 50s playlist, which was also fun.
Related:
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A West Coast Odyssey | Exploring Queenstown, Zeehan and Strahan
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Drama, Grandeur and Colossal Landscapes | West Coast TAS From Above
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Best Mountain Bike Trails in Tasmania | Where to Ride on the Apple Isle
As we meandered through lush forests and quaint/quirky towns, the beats from our minibus were in stark contrast yet strangely balanced with the scenery out the window. The region, significantly influenced by the Hydro Electric Commission from the 1940s to the 1980s, offered a landscape that was a visual mixtape of sorts – from the green lushness of ancient forests to the imposing grandeur of hydropower structures plummeting down from the heights.
Kristina ‘made us stop once or twice’ to take (amazing) photos, which led us to arrive a little late in town for a shuttle up the mighty Mount Owen above the town for what was to be yet another unforgettable ride. Road trips are the best, but sheesh, Kristina, don’t you live in Tasmania? 🙂
Queenstown, a Testament to the Economic Benefits and Environmental Costs of Mining
Arriving in Queenstown reveals a landscape profoundly shaped by its rich mining history; it is shocking yet beautiful. A story told many times goes like this: The town was first explored in 1862 and boomed with the discovery of gold in 1881. This discovery led to rapid development, with the establishment of the Mount Lyell Gold Mining Company and later the Mount Lyell Mining and Railway Company, primarily focusing on copper production. By 1901, Queenstown had grown to be Tasmania’s third-largest town.
However, the mining activities significantly impacted the environment. The landscape around Queenstown was also dramatically altered, with the surrounding rainforest destroyed due to tree-felling to fuel the machines, sulphur smoke, fire, acid rain and erosion, giving the town its distinctive ‘moonscape’ appearance.
Though, despite its ravaging, Queenstown has seen a revival through tourism, drawing visitors to its unique landscape. Efforts are being made to rehabilitate the area, with new approaches indicating a shift towards more sustainable and environmentally conscious mining practices.
Mountain Biking is (of course) a viable product for investment, so in recent years, there have been some mega trail developments in and around the town of Queenstown. I’d seen countless images and videos, and we’d worked on producing (award-winning) Flow content on the trails from afar, so I was thrilled to experience the trails myself.
Up Mount Owen and Into The Clouds, with Roam Wild
Our ride on Mount Owen was incredible, and the shuttle to the top with Roam Wild was insightful. The trail we chose, named Waterfall, is a marvel of trail building and human effort. The trail weaved through the rockiest terrain I’d ever seen; huge outcrops of gnarly stone resembling an old man’s knobbly nose towered above us.
The trail had a random mix of flow and backcountry, with surprises at every turn. It required our full attention and, at times, felt frustrating, coming from riding the flowing and predictable Maydena Bike Park. We were reminded to look at the terrain, and ride it carefully, plus I was more happy to take in the views than ride fast.
Horsetail Falls really knocked our gloves off. I’d watched the water falling down the rocky cliffs many times, though previously through the open window of a car from the opposite side of the valley; standing right on top was a whole new feeling. It’s one thing to spot it from a distance, but being right there, where the water makes its leap – it’s something else!
You get to feel the rush and see the drops disappearing into the mist. Riding across the top was epic, a bit of a thrill and worth the ride for that scene alone.
It’s not all downhill, oh no, no, no. Climbing the switchbacks facing the waterfall (spot them?) was a bit of a mind game – the barren landscape made it look smaller and the summit closer than it really was. But getting past that huge ‘Queenstown’ sign made of rocks? That was pretty awesome, like a high-five from history. Then, ripping back down to town was unreal, taking the big corners like wannabe pros, attempting passes on the rider in front and letting the brakes off with confidence.
It was a total blast – the kind of descent that finishes a huge day of riding in the best way possible; oh yes, there were many elated fist bumps.
22 Emergency Parmys, Creaky Stairs, and Getting Weird in Queenstown
The night in Queenstown unfolded with its own quirky story. It kicked off at the Moonscape Bar, a spot with a nice vibe and musky bean bags. Here, we indulged in some well-deserved relaxation after a mighty day, sipping on local craft beers and savouring a heavenly cheese platter. Our group had grown from our humble Maydena beginnings to a 22-strong mob of frothers about to launch it on the Silver City Trails via a slightly more impactful means of transport, more to come…
But the Queenstown wildlife adventure didn’t stop there. As hunger struck, we found ourselves in a bit of a culinary emergency, and time was running out to eat, leading us for the fearless leader of the Frothing 22, Rohan, to hit the ’emergency parmigiana’ button and phone ahead an order to kitchen at The Empire Hotel, we’ve all been there. Surprisingly, out of the 22 of us, there were no tricky requests or dietary requirements to navigate; that evening, it was a parmy (parma?) onslaught.
The Empire Hotel is quite a place! The large 1901-built hotel is a reminder of the town’s prosperous mining era; with so many rooms and corridors, they even gave us a map to find the door that matched our key. Flanked by grand paintings of nameless old people with sad faces, its centrepiece, the National Trust-listed staircase made from fancy Tasmanian Blackwood, is more than just a set of steps to walk up or down; it’s a journey through time. Shipped to England for carving and then back to Queenstown, not only symbolises the town’s rich mining history but also, humorously, speaks to a rather hefty carbon footprint of such a process. Ha, what did they know about those topics at that moment, eh? Next time, we’d probably just suggest they email the design and have it 3D printed locally.
Walking up its deep red-carpeted steps, we felt a tangible link to the past, each creak a whisper of stories from travellers and miners who’ve traversed these steps and passed out asleep upstairs with a skinful of moonshine and meat in the crispy single beds we were also destined for. Mmmm.
The evening took an unpredictable turn, late at the Empire Hotel, a place steeped in local history and charm but perhaps not the most patient staff at closing time. The lights switched off, and stools began to be stacked on the bar. It was time to go to bed, or not yet.
“Looks like the Confluence is open; well, their lights are on,” barks our friendly bartender, suggesting a faster and more seamless way for us to exit her workspace.
Deciding to venture across the street to the local bar, we were greeted by an unforgettable scene, with music blaring out of a very small turquoise-coloured portable speaker; the dark space was dank and teeming with life at a variety of paces. We witnessed some unique local rituals – two ‘lit AF’ ladies daringly drinking Sambuca set aflame with cinnamon and a cigarette lighter, followed by attempts to snort the liqueur, leading to us wondering about the practicality of such an endeavour.
It was an eccentric, random and memorable night, with lots of laughs and short stories. A classic night in Queenstown. That was fun. Ok, to bed. The next day was the main event.
Pinch Me, Harder. Heli-Biking in Tasmania?
This is the point where my story (thank you for getting this far, sambuca anyone?) where shit gets really hectic – we landed an exclusive spot to trial a new heli-biking service with Into The Wild and Rotor Lift, insert thank you emoji. Having done this outlandish activity in New Zealand and Canada, I was stoked but aware this was a special gig we got through our jobs at Flow. We gladly paid for our spot, simply had to be there; it’s not every day you get to heli-bike in Tasmania, right?
After a bit of waiting around, thanks, weather, we finally got the green light. The safety brief was pretty straightforward; the Rotor Lift crew had it dialled – basically, do not put any of your body near anything spinning or “stand over there” pointing at the spinning thing. The bright blue chopper landing and taking off was a thrill on its own – it’s a buzzing, roaring beast that gets your heart racing. Arrrrrrgh!
As we took off, with our bikes hitched to the side, the view from up there was nothing short of epic. Flying over Tasmania’s landscape, with the Heemskirk Range and Silver City trails below, was a scene straight out of our own imagination.
Landing at Galena Peak, a high point on the Heemskirk Range, we felt like James Bond or another suitable badass or rockstar who likes mountain biking. With the helicopter’s blades whipping up a storm, we were hurriedly pointed to safety by Rohan and his very long arms. The moment the blue buzzard flew off, leaving us in sudden silence, we realised we’d been screaming our heads off the whole time – talk about an adrenaline high. Aaarrgh, helicopters are such a rush; it’s intense!
The first ride down was nuts. Kristina wanted to stop and snap a million – or two – photos, but we also had to hustle because, well, helicopters don’t wait, and time was ticking. We descended the climbing track down to Piney Creek so we could see more of the stunning network, a wild mix of rocky, grainy, and just outright beautiful terrain. We rode through gullies of colour and texture, riding over all sorts of shapes that made so many different sounds.
Errrrmygawwwwwd! Don’t F*@%k Up, Chris!
The second run down was another level of nuts. It was steep, it was rocky, and the chopper flying overhead to film us hit the descent added a whole new level of crazy to the mix. There were moments of sheer ‘I-can’t-believe-we’re-doing-this this’ as we dropped in, with Chris valiantly leading the way; it was windy, then there was the chopper, and it was windy squared.
Chris courageously led us out, and the nervous energy peaked. We were in a bad place to make a mistake; whether it was a bone in our body or just a tyre sidewall, now was not the time to flinch and screw up. My sunglasses literally flew off my face at one point, straight ahead – thanks, helicopter wind! Following Jono’s lead was like being in a high-speed chase scene; A-lines were bold, but we made it somehow.
Behind me, Kristina was having the time of her life, knee out, shredding so fast, big grin, heavy camera bag and all, yeeeeahhh!
Above me, Jasper was hanging out of the chopper like a boss. He had the epic job of capturing this madness from the best seat in the house, in photo and video. The shadow of the helicopter swooping around and the sound of the blades was like being in our own action movie, just without a stern Austrian accent referencing something like ‘getting into a chopper’.
Silver City Trails – Tapped into the Rhythm on the Land
The Silver City trails are very special, well-signed and mapped 35km of singletrack across seven trails. This remarkable project, funded by the Federal Government and managed alongside the West Coast Council on Tasmanian Parks and Wildlife Service land, is made more amazing by its remote setting and unpredictable Tasmanian conditions. Kudos to Marcelo, Rohan, and the Next Level MTB crew for their stellar work under tough conditions. These trails, free and open to the public, are so bloody good.
I’d love to spend a few days there on my own one day, just winding my way along peacefully in the massive open space, taking in the quiet (perhaps without a helicopter). It’s glorious out there, and the expanse of the West TAS landscape is truly esoteric.
With such a unique landscape, I’d say they tapped into the rhythm of the land and got it right. The trails were fast and crunchy, the corners were sweet, and the whole vibe was mint. Silver City’s iconic white rocky surface winding through the landscape has become its profile picture, creating a bright white line against the greens and greys of the open scrub landscape, low button grass and randomly populated forests.
It’d been raining before we arrived, though the trails were in prime condition. It was clear that the trail builders had leant into the environment, trusting that the surfaces could handle whatever the mighty West Coast TAS weather threw at them. Riding along, I was struck by how the water could be channelled away, leaving the trail exterior that felt grippy, predictable and rolling fast.
Check out the trail map online; it’s clearly a well-thought-out network, with different options to suit time and legs. The large black loop – Stormsdown – is a mighty ride, the climb up to Galena Peak would be brutal, beautiful, brutal and beautiful.
That was mega. And it’s a thing – soon
The ambitious mob at Into the Wild has launched their new heli-biking product now, with plans to ramp it up and offer more options by 2025. From Hobart to Mount Owen and the Silver City Trails, they are able to tailor a trip to suit individual or group needs. Check out their website for more details. Thumbs up from us!
In addressing potential concerns about the heli-biking aspect of our adventure, we want to pre-emptively clarify a few points. This was a special opportunity to access terrain not reachable by car or shuttle, offering a unique and rare perspective of the West Coast’s wilderness from above. Into The Wild, conscious of their environmental footprint, offsets fuel usage annually and practices sustainable tourism.
We understand the concerns around helicopter use and want to assure our community that this was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, undertaken with the utmost consideration for its environmental impact.
Photos:
Kristina Vackova @kiphotomedia
Mick Ross @Flow_MTB