cycling to O'Reilly's Guesthouse in the Lamington National Park

One of the first books I remember reading as a teenager was �Green Mountains� by Bernard O�Reilly. I borrowed it from the local library and was transfixed by the account of his search for and discovery of the Stinson aircraft that crashed in 1937 in the largely unexplored MacPherson Ranges.

While the official search was out to sea off Ballina, Bernard O�Reilly followed his own intuition and set off alone to scour the remote ridges and valleys near the O�Reilly property. He found the wreck on the second day of his search and then trekked sixteen kilometres to raise the alarm and guide the rescuers back to the crash-site. Three men survived the crash, but, tragically James Westray fell to his death while going to get help. But for the tenacity and bushcraft of Bernard O�Reilly, the two survivors would have also perished.

Years later, I read the wonderful Judith Wright poem, �The Lost Man� a haunting, almost gothic account, of the imagined final moments of James Westray. 

Although these two fascinating pieces of literature left a great impression on me as a teenager, I�ve never been to O�Reilly�s Guesthouse.

What better way to get there then by bicycle.

I begin after lunch in Canungra on a pleasant winter day that threatens rain in the mountains, but here in the valley is balmy and warm. The first ten kilometres are along a patchy bitumen road that goes up and down and has me climbing nearly two hundred metres for no discernable elevation gain. One uphill leads to another downhill until I reach the O�Reilly Winery, a small property with an old Queenslander surrounded by vines.

Finally, I start climbing. The road curls gently up the side of a hill with distant views of mountains and dark clouds. Somebody is going to get wet. The gradient stays between 4 to 5% and I quickly get into a rhythm. After five kilometres the road reaches the west side of the mountain and I have spectacular views all the way to the Scenic Rim ranges and south to Mt Warning. It�s an amazing vista, so impressive that I have to stop to take it all in. Spread out before me is an expanse of wilderness and mountain ranges... but, wait, what�s that up ahead, maybe a kilometre to my left on the spur of a hill. Yes, it�s washing fluttering on a clothes line! Somebody�s laundry has a million-dollar view. I hop back on my bike and pedal, somewhat crestfallen towards the offending undergarments.

The house, and the washing, are hidden from view as I get closer. I�d have to take the bush track to get there. Which I don�t.

The road continues to maintain a pleasantly easy 5% gradient through bushland sprinkled with grass trees and ferns. A wallaby sits up among the long grass and watches me pass. As the road enters a section of high pastureland with cows roaming the green fields, it begins to rain heavily. I push ahead and luckily enter the first rainforest section of the ride, which offers me some shelter from the downpour. Another wallaby leaps out across my path and further on a bush turkey dances across the bitumen. The wildlife helps me forget the rain and the rapidly decreasing temperature. 

The road opens out again for a few kilometres to expansive views of mountains and tall trees and more oncoming ominous clouds. It is a rainforest, after all. 

For the final seven kilometres, the road becomes a narrow bitumen path through the high-altitude rainforest. What a glorious ride. Dense jungle; tall trees including beech and rosewood; overhanging creeper vines and a passing parade of brightly coloured birds make me forget the rain and cold. 

Finally, as if to remind me it is a mountain, the road ramps up to 20% for one short painful section before entering the O�Reilly property. The first thing I see is a band of tourists with rosellas perched on shoulders, hands and head. Tourist bird-feeding is something I�ll never quite understand, but it makes for a good photo. The second thing I see is a replica of the doomed Stinson aircraft. The rain stops and the sun comes out as I look at the beautiful aircraft and think of Bernard O�Reilly. I guess, like every teenager, I was captivated by the heroic and epic nature of what he set out to do, to find a tiny airplane amid hundreds of square kilometres of inhospitable bush. I didn�t need Biggles as a kid. I had Mr O�Reilly.

I celebrate my climb with an Anzac biscuit. After I�ve eaten two bites, a crimson rosella lands on my shoulder and demands a crumb. He�s quickly followed by an extended family of technicolour beggars. I flee into the warmth and safety of the cafe. 

The downhill back to Canungra is long and bumpy over an uneven tarmac. At one point, I�m speeding around a blind corner with a tight high wall of dirt on my inside line and trapped against that wall... is a large kangaroo! He takes one mighty bound and lands right beside my speeding bike. Next bounce and I go flying. Miraculously, he collapses onto the road. There�s no other way to describe it. If he hadn�t fallen down, he would have bounced straight into me. It�s an impressive feat of agility. We both stop a few metres apart, breathing heavily. We stare at each other, as if to say, �What the hell!�

Finally, he bounds off down the hillside. My breathing calms. I was insanely close to winning the Darwin Award for stupid ways to die in 2013.

The last ten kilometres are spent dodging a herd of cows on the road and taking photos of lots more kangaroos, all, mercifully, on the grass verges, not leaping towards me.

Despite this, I�d highly recommend the Canungra to O�Reilly�s climb. It�s thirty five kilometres (seventy km return), with an easy average gradient of just under 3%. It�s not the gradient that makes it a challenging climb, but the distance. One of the most enjoyable climbs I�ve done, anywhere in the world.

I've written three travel ebooks on my cycling adventures across Europe. They sell for between $2.99 and $3.99, depending on which currency you use. You can visit my Amazon page here for the USA; here for the UK and here for Australia