The Mawson Trail is an epic-scale route for mountain bikes or rugged touring bikes connecting the distant outskirts of Adelaide through wheat farms and wind turbines, to the heart of the Flinders Ranges in outback South Australia. There’s not enough detailed information online, so, here’s my half trip report, half travel guide. The segments are as we rode them, but you should adapt the schedule. Our first week (Blinman to Melrose) was pretty cruisey, with the pace significantly harder later.

We rode the trail in September 2014, from north to south. This keeps the sun out of your face, with the downside of covering the best scenery first. We started with 2 cyclocrosses, 4 touring bikes (Surly LHTs and Kona Sutra), 2 mountain bikes, and a fat-tyred Surly Troll. Six remained for the second week.

We used GPSes, phones and maps to follow the route. Trail markers guide the way, but they’re very small and hard to see at speed. Don’t rely on them.

Blinman to Middlesight Water Hut

Blinman is a busy little tourist hotspot at the end of a sealed road in the middle of absolutely nowhere. There’s a very large pub, tourist information, a few attractions like an old mine. Apparently a general store too, but hopefully you’re better organised than that. To get there, we used EscapeGoat , a minibus with bike trailer, convenient and reasonably priced. ( Genesis Transport is another option.)

Our trip began with a bang. Literally. A kilometre down the asphalt, my front tyre (48mm 700C Schwalbe Marathon) blew out, scaring the bejeezus out of me. It’s a quiet road with modest scenery, a gentle taster for the ride to come.

18km later, we turn down Bulls Gap Track and it’s instantly mountain biking territory. Rough, undulating firetrail generally rolls well although slippery gravel at times. We stop for photos frequently as the ranges come into view. In this direction, the dirt is a treat, cruising lower and lower. Mud would be a disaster. A few steep sections had our non-mountain bikers taking their time, but no dramas, even on 35mm tyres with heavy loads. 18km later, we turn down Bulls Gap Track and it’s instantly mountain biking territory. Rough, undulating firetrail generally rolls well although slippery gravel at times. We stop for photos frequently as the ranges come into view. In this direction, the dirt is a treat, cruising lower and lower. Mud would be a disaster. A few steep sections had our non-mountain bikers taking their time, but no dramas, even on 35mm tyres with heavy loads.

You might be tempted to cut along the Heysen Trail to the Middlesight Water Hut . We were. Good singletrack with a bit of pushing through dry creek crossings. The rustic, very basic hut didn’t tempt us inside, and there’s no toilet. The ground is hard and prickly, but otherwise a decent spot. Our day was only 35km, but with such a long drive from Adelaide we still arrived after dark.

Wilpena Pound

Heavily rutted and potholed roads dominate this section, with a few glorious sections snaking through steep gullies. The heavy virations caused the first mechanicals: strong racks with well tightened bolts recommended! The stand-out section is a beatuiful few k’s of wide single track above a dry creek. It flows magnificently, even for heavily loaded bikes.

Arriving at Wilpena Pound camp ground is like sneaking into the back of a small city. It’s enormous. The general store is very well stocked, and seems to always be busy. Replace those sunglasses you lost in the dark on the first night. There’s a pub and a steady stream of buses. Our 31km day left a couple of hours off to climb the nearly 400m up to Mt Ohlssen-Bagge for a great view inside the pound.

Rawnsley Park Station

There’s more asphalt in the next couple of days than anywhere else on the route. If renewable energy excites you as much as us, take a very small detour to see the solar farm. Soon you’re on Telegraph Track, aptly the chosen route for a Telstra fibre optic cable. The views are magnificent: the gorgeous red strata of the Pound often fill your metaphorical windscreen, as emus dash across the track, shingleback lizards lounge on it, and the sunbaked earth rolls beautifully underwheel. Pray for weather like ours, mid twenties and blue skies.

As you edge around the Pound, take a moment to see Arkaroo Rock, a deservedly popular aboriginal rock art site.

Rawnsley Park Station itself is a kind of sprawling caravan park with sites along the edge of a small ridge, giving great views across to Rawnsley Bluff. The general store is pretty basic, especially if you’re vegetarian, but there’s enough to make a basic meal or two. You can buy the park’s own frozen beef, so we had an irresponsibly large barbecue. We whiled away the afternoon with ice-cream and playing foursquare. We didn’t get around to using the pool.

Mount Little Station

try to spot a trail marker at 40kph! We copped a delightful tailwind for the asphalt section leading out. It’s pretty flat and the spectacular Flinders Ranges scenery is already starting to subside a bit. We paid for the tailwind on the Moralana Scenic Drive, a decent dirt road surrounded by wildflowers. Leigh Creek Rd was a very fast flat, smooth road, tempting a few machos to zoom off the front of the group and miss the turn. Don’ttry to spot a trail marker at 40kph!

This little four wheel drive track was a bit overgrown at first, and hard going into what was now a headwind. It gets a lot better though.

Mt Little Station is a pretty good spot to camp, if you arrange it with the owners first. The actual campsite looks like an unsigned nondescript shed on your left, but there’s toilets and good showers and basic cooking facilities. The station itself is further up on the right. We were grateful for the shed as some wild storms moved through, blowing rain from every different direction, as we frantically tried to shore up the shed with scraps of material. Watch out for nightmare-inducing centipedes and redbacks!

Hawker and Cradock

The rain did as it promised, and turned the roads to thick sludge. I had a bold plan to sneak up the gorge we had passed, avoiding a big muddy push over a steep ridge. So, Mitch and I set off. At first, a decent four wheel drive track with river stones and weeds for traction. Soon it petered out and we were pushing our bikes up the left side of the rocky gorge. It’s wide, with a relatively small trickle of water flowing through the angular chunks of bedrock. A couple of hundred metres of that was ok, but then what? Mitch eventually spotted a track on the right hand side, which required just a bit more muscling to get to. Pretty scenic! The rain did as it promised, and turned the roads to thick sludge. I had a bold plan to sneak up the gorge we had passed, avoiding a big muddy push over a steep ridge. So, Mitch and I set off. At first, a decent four wheel drive track with river stones and weeds for traction. Soon it petered out and we were pushing our bikes up the left side of the rocky gorge. It’s wide, with a relatively small trickle of water flowing through the angular chunks of bedrock. A couple of hundred metres of that was ok, but then what? Mitch eventually spotted a track on the right hand side, which required just a bit more muscling to get to. Pretty scenic!

Unfortunately the track was hopelessly slippery, and I found myself walking frequently, half dragging the tyres through the mud. At one point it was so bad it was easier to leave the track and shove directly over a small hill rather than follow the mud around it. Things eventually improved and as we rejoined the main track – now a decent dirt road – we were left to wonder whether we’d actually beaten the others.

From here to Hawker the trail follows a series of fairly dull farming dirt roads, coming dangerously close to the sealed highway before diverting at the last minute. A squeaking from my drivetrain became a grinding and then a horrible shrieking. I couldn’t find much wrong with it, other than a bit of old twine wrapped around the bottom bracket. It finally turned out to be nothing more than a lack of lube.

Hawker is a surprisingly big town. There’s a pub and a cafe that we didn’t check out, but all the action was at the roadhouse/general store. The latter was pretty basic, with the typical assortment of fairly useless odds and ends, but good milkshakes!

From there to Cradock it’s basically just a couple of long straight flat dirt roads, the kind which dominate the next few days. The scenery is somehow inspiring, though, with uninterrupted views of distant hills, on this enormous plain. These quiet roads are great for group riding.

Cradock itself is just a pub , nothing more. It was nothing special, apart from the quirky outback art across the road. You can camp outside the pub and use the toilets.

Kanyaka Station and Warren Gorge

The dirt road manages to collect a few hills here, giving sweeping views of the desolation in all directions. We’re still north of the famed Goyder Line , designating the surveyed limits of productive agriculture.

A detour of just a couple of k’s right on the Quorn-Hawker Rd takes you to Kanyaka Station , the ruins of a very impressive shearing operation. Check it out. Really. It’s immense. How many stone shearing sheds have you seen? There are two sites, with a bit of cruisey singletrack to link them.

The road dips down for a couple of big gorges with unimpressive trickles at the bottom, beside the more impressive ruins of the former Wilmington Train Line out here. It’s easy to lose the track, so keep left. There are also some rather confusing jury-rigged gates that look like fences across the track.

Another few k’s down the dirt, 40km from Cradock, you come across the ruins of the town-that-never-was, Simmonston . A miscommunication, a bit of wild optimism, or simply poor planning got this town half-started. The trail, still a solid dirt road, dips down to follow a river, bringing a welcome change in scenery, and the shade of the gorgeous, massive redgums.

Approaching the turn-off to Warren Gorge, the scenery suddenly lights up. Dull brown hills are replaced by lush green, with bushes and wildflowers everywhere.

Warren Gorge is an absolute gem of a campsite. It’s a few k’s off the road, and up a bit of a hill, but the views of the surrounding rock faces are stunning, and the rare yellow footed rock wallaby is easy to spot. There’s drinking water and toilets, and you can even have a bit of a wash in the creek. Our night up there was just magical – a warm, still night amongst the flowers, watching the sun slowly go down on the gorge.

Quorn and Wilmington

Oh, and there’s a proper supermarket, the northernmost on the trail. There’s a bit of old railway operating for tourists here, and there’s no shortage of them.

The track to Wilmington gets unexpectedly steep, with a real pinch up to Richman Gap as you cut over this ridge. The beers don’t help, but the cruise down the other side into dairy country isn’t bad.

Which is very handy for safely getting home after one too many big glasses of $3 port. Oh yes, do try the port. But remember to stop. And try not to antagonise the locals, no matter how many times they put Johnny Cash on the jukebox. They may not appreciate your John Paul Young riposte.

As for the Beautiful Valley Cafe , well…a wonderful place for brunch this is not. But they sell ice creams and ice coffee, and that’s great. There’s a general store, too, but we had no reason to try it.

Melrose

The official way to get to Melrose is via some dreary sequence of farming roads, but the better alternative is the rough, overgrown, not-quite-finished, Southern Flinders Rail Trail . It will shake a few things loose on your bike, but you’ll spot goannas and injured kangaroos, guaranteed. It doesn’t quite make it to Melrose, so you have to briefly get on the busy highway.

Melrose itself is just as lovely as Wilmington fails to be. Arriving on Grand Final Day means the whole town is outside with a sausage and bread in one hand, and a beer in the other. The bike shop cafe, Over the Edge , is your first chance for serious repairs, and there’s no shortage of pubs and decent food options. We didn’t make much use of the general store (apart from three trips for ice cream), because from here on south there’s not much need to stock up.Dump your gear somewhere, and hit a trail or two of the Melrose mountain bike park , like Dodging Bullets which cuts cheekily straight through a ruined farmhouse.

Still to come: many many dirt roads, and then Adelaide.