Mount Buffalo - the day of the melting bitumen...

Day One of my Victorian Alps challenge dawns hot and humid. Cathie and I ride along the pleasant Rail Trail path out of Myrtleford, which I'll blog about next week, for thirty kilometres to Bright. Instead of a light morning tea, befitting this early hour, I chow down on a baguette of pork and salad. I figure I'll need all the energy I can muster to tackle Mount Buffalo.
It's 10.30 before I leave Cathie in Bright and already the temperature is passing 35 degrees. The last time I climbed Mount Buffalo, my ascent was accompanied by the melodic and restful sound of running water. It was as though the mountainside was leaking. 
Today, with the crackling heat, I half-expect the gums to self-combust as I reach Eurobin Creek at the four-kilometre mark. The leaves of the trees are drooping, others are slowly drifting to the ground aided by a gust of parching hot wind. 
The birds are still out though. I see King Parrots, Kookaburras and Green-eyes and hear the familiar whip-call of the Riflebird. Every few minutes, a cyclist whirrs around a bend ahead of me, descending at a frenetic pace. These smart riders have ascended early in the day and will be sipping beer and soaking their feet, while I'm facing the torture of the final few kilometres. 
I plough on and am able to maintain a steady rhythm, always looking ahead for patches of shade. Mount Buffalo is a remarkably consistent climb, consistently hovering around the 4-6% gradient as the road clings to the mountainside, offering views into the Buckland Valley or across to the Southern Alps. 

The middle section mercifully enters a tall eucalyptus forest with a shady canopy and thick undergrowth of native ferns. I take this opportunity to relax and pedal easily, tipping copious amounts of water over my head. With the temperature now hitting 40 degrees, the water in my bottle is warm. I prefer a head drenching to swallowing it. 
The white lines on the road have been replaced by yellow ones, which means I'm above the snow line. The road-sign that warns of ice on the road is read with a mocking tone today. 
I am noticing a curious problem, which I've never faced on a mountain climb before. The heat of the bitumen is starting to penetrate my shoes and my feet are swelling. My toenails feel as if they are about to shatter. It makes riding out of the saddle extremely painful. As I near the summit, I notice exposed sections of the bitumen are starting to... melt. I'm serious. As I ride over them, my tyres feel as though they're gripping a little too much. Leaves are embedded in the tarmac where they've fallen and been sucked into the gluepot. 
Perhaps the heat is distorting my senses?

I reach the summit where the road splits to the historic chalet or Dingo Dell. To get a stamp in my passport for the Seven Peaks Challenge, I have to cycle uphill to Dingo Dell for another three kilometres. I'm out of water. Lake Catani looks very welcoming indeed, but a naked cyclist plunging into mountain water may not be greeted with enthusiasm by the happy campers and kayakers. 
At Dingo Dell, I get my stamp, refill my water bottles and study my toenails. All intact. 
The descent is like riding through a furnace. Cathie meets me a Porepunkah with a cold bottle of water. I'm tempted to tip it over my toes, but drink it in one gulp.

Mount Buffalo, according to Strava, is a 'hors category' climb of 21 kilometres, with an average gradient of 5% and an elevation gain of 1050 metres. I disagree. With such a consistent gradient, I'd suggest it's a Category One climb. But whatever category it is, I'd suggest you don't ride it in the middle of the day in a heatwave. 

I have recently published an eBook about my bicycle journey across France, including a number of Tour de France mountain climbs.
     baguettes and bicycles  is a travel adventure, a restaurant safari and a guidebook for those who enjoy slow food, easy cycling and... fast descents.
     To purchase this book for $2.99, go to my Amazon page, here.