It’s the difficulties overcome that make a ride memorable. The 2024 Bendethera Valley trailbike ride with the DSMRA is an epic.
Our local DSMRA-ACT club was keen to put on another two day ride into the popular camping spot in Bendethera Valley located by the Deua River in southern NSW. With memories of past rides into the remote valley at the forefront of organiser, Shaun Longergan’s mind, he was pushing hard to hold another event as the previous one was pre-covid times. While our club may be small (declining in numbers) it has a broad reach with the Kowen ride database, hence capping the ride at 15 riders meant positions were filled quickly.
We were locked in for the 4th of May and 18 riders ultimately rocked up for some punishment. The clear sunnies skies of weeks leading up to the ride dramatically changed, as coastal areas received a good dump of rain and a few riders pulled out for fear of getting wet. Little did we know they may have been well advised!
Logistically rides like this do require a fair degree of organising and planning, unbeknownst to the riders themselves that just want to roost. We had a team of 4x4s to cart all the swags, fuel and food. We had two bike contingents, the Enduro crew and the Adventure bikes. Each would follow different paths, but ultimately, we all ended up at Bendethera by nightfall (well that was the plan anyway).
Our enduro group was to have a half a day of punishment riding the plethora of single track within Tallaganda State forest, to which I was lumped with the honour of leading.
We started with a great little camping spot within the tiny village of Rossi. The group parked their vans there and a few had camped overnight on the way from Wollongong.
Knowing full well that we would have a diverse range of skillsets amongst all our group, I set about leading them through the mountains via a very circuitous route that meant we sampled a lot of varying terrain, all the while seemingly always going down vs up. The riders were perplexed but far too stoked to realise this simple fact, and we tried to stay as a group vs using the cornerman too much. This was a ride of attrition you just had to get there in one piece. Each fern strewn gully, mud infested swamp and creek after creek was crossed in turn. The boys all had smiles from ear to ear.
Somewhat impressed with the talent on offer, I decided we could throw a few pine tracks into the mix, to which I received a wholehearted round of encouragement for more! Not one to disappoint, we criss-crossed our way around the pines, sampling the best trails on offer. Some rocky summits, some steep descents, still no major hills to be seen!
With lunch set at 1pm, I knew we had some time on our hands so finished the single trails with some epic long loops before popping out of the bush to our 4×4 crew. Lunch was served! The boys ravaged down some grub, and it was back on again.
We headed south next through predominately fast and flowing 4×4 tracks that rode the ridgeline up to 1400m high. The clouds had descended low (or we had gone up) and thick fog and mizzle had set in. It was certainly cooler in the alpine areas, but we were all set on a hot pace, and the boys were encouraging to keep going.
While they all enjoyed playing follow the leader, I was on high alert as 2-300 wallabies and kangaroos flew out of the underbrush with alarming alacrity. The little blighters had plenty of close calls with both front and rear tyres, but I can report that I survived the ordeal! (this time) There was a fair stint of overgrown 4×4 tracks and logging snigs before we bombed down from the summits into the valleys again, to ford the crystal clear waters of Jerrabutgulla and Jinden creeks. A few riders thought it prudent to have a closer inspection for what they thought was gold in them there waters, but they simply emerged wet and dejected for their efforts, and lauded on by the others.
We pushed on past Snowball and down into the touristy areas that 4x4s seem to dwell and freshly-graded 4×4 roads with a thousand water bars meant the pace became hectic as riders wanted to see what distance they could launch. Descending from the 1239m summit of Mt Dampier to the Bendethera Valley at 300m was a hoot as riders flew past the cars and bombed down the ridgeline like possessed demons. No low range was required for the bikes, as we made short work of the easy part and were only left with the fording of the Deua River.
Again with crystal clear waters and plenty of round river stone, it was alarmingly deep in certain areas butcertainly a pretty campground. The unfortunate ones found the deep spots first but yours truly had to blaze the way so it stands to reason I would not find the shallowest path as a matter of luck! Surprisingly, all riders managed to cross the Deua vertically (twice) with only wet boots to complain about.
We camped at the Homestead site with drop toilet and a very scenic setting on hand, but the views and beauty of the valley were lost on us this time as upkeep of the area was clearly at a minimum. Mown areas were much smaller than previous years and the views limited to 50m or so. Mizzle had become pizzle, and we were to soon find out it was not about to relent anytime soon.
The support vehicles were no where to be seen (we had flown past them on the descent) so the riders set about de-robing their wet riding gear and twisting out water from their socks. Half an hour later the cars started to arrive and the riders eagerly unfurled their swags and donned dry clothes.
Unbeknownst to us however, the last 4×4 that happened to have all the food and cooking gear had managed to put a wheel over the edge of a precarious section of trail, and then had to contend with a fallen tree. No matter though as the beer had arrived, so that placated the majority but darkness was setting in.
Sometime around 7pm (after the other two cars had headed off in an effort to assist) all three vehicles beamed their mighty lights to burn off the dark and approach with cheers of delight. The food had arrived.
The merriment was somewhat subdued as the rain continued in earnest, and while the bonfire raged, the keen recipients of its warmth were absent. Instead we were all huddled under two marquees talking shoulder to shoulder as dinner cooked. After hoeing into beef stroganoff, butter chicken, corn, veggies, rice and mash, chokkie cake and drinks, the masses were replete.
Full and content, many snuck off into the darkness and wet to dig into their swags and hit the hay. Surprisingly, it was quite warm, staving off the winter frosts was not an issue here as we were quite close to Moruya and the coast.
It was an early morning for me with a 5am start to get the fire roaring again but the lads emerged after sun up and were met with more drizzle. After packing up all the wet gear and donning our wet boots, we decided there was little benefit in hanging around at the campground, and pointed our dirt steeds back up the mountain. The Deua snagged one bike, drowning a KTM200 with a gullet of water, the broken kick starter did not assist either. A tow rope was whipped out and the old girl fired up with some coaxing.
Trying to reel the boys in up the Stairmaster from hell, they were simply too keen and overtook the leader up to Mt Dampier. We all regrouped up here, not realising this was the last reception point until we were back at the cars. We continued our merry way (in the rain) until we hit Cooma Road at Snowball. Deciding it was prudent to wait for the 4x4s and fill up the bikes, we all hunkered down and promptly set about lighting a fire with all the candle bark and sticks.
Nothing like a bit of accelerant and forced air induction to rapidly get a fire going! With frozen fingers and wet riders (some had nothing but their jersey on) they set about rustling up some garbage bags and makeshift wind cheaters for the transport back over the ridgeline. Finally the 4x4s arrived, so we all topped up with fuel and made haste back.
With much play racing and sliding for broke on the overgrown clay tracks, the inevitable happened as the group hit the summit when a rider managed a pinch flat through the rocks. Good with the tools, in 30 mins he had whipped off the tyre and sorted his flat rear with a 21” tube. Regrouped, we all bee lined straight back home as the rain continued and temperatures plummeted. I offered to include a few singles on the loop back, but everyone had had enough.
Cold and keen to get changed, we ran the ridge directly back to Rossi, only to find some freshly graded road proved super slippery! Legs were out, bikes were flapping, but amazingly everyone emerged back at the cars in one piece.
Sated, satisfied and keen as mustard to get out of their cold wet gear, many memories were made and a great crew of mates was formed. A top ride with plenty of close calls and laughter, and we got some photos to boot! I’m looking forward to the next one at Kowen. Hopefully it will be on again for mid-October so keep your eyes out as numbers will be capped again.
WORDS & PHOTOS | BERNIE DEN HERTOG