Boondall railway station is not particularly hard to find and so at twenty minutes to ten, I found myself ambling along the road outside the station looking for a suitable parking spot. Not paying too much attention to the world in general (mind focused on parking maters), I suddenly found myself confronted by a pink haired man stepping out in front of the car and waving. Under normal circumstances, this would probably elicit a spot of muttering about road crossing etiquette and maybe even a wry comment on post modern hair styles (with the word hippy thrown in for good measure). Closer inspection, however, revealed a freshly coiffured Monte who, against all natural touring lore, was in fact the first person to arrive. Combined with my own normally tardy arrival etiquette, to be among the first people there made something of a change to get the day underway.

Following last weeks enthusiastic response to the Altandi train station facts, and with this weeks tour starting from Boondall railway station, it seems only natural to slip in a few more nuggets of fascinating station related trivia, so here goes. Boondall’s tracks are at the heady elevation of three meters above sea level, the station has two platforms and its ticket vending machine number is 515. There are an impressive 539 non secure parking spaces and Boondall is a derivation of the words ‘Crooked Creek’.

By ten o’clock the full compliment of skaters, ready for one of the longer tours on the calendar, were kitted up and ready for the off. Three people had elected for the beginners tour, which starts slightly further up the road from the Sandgate track. They were lead off by Julie. Everyone else was going to be doing the Bayside Breeze option with the Captain Red-Scar leg cancelled. The tour was lead by Monte assisted by Michelle, Vaughan, Amber and Paul. Following the introductions and briefing, we set off in the general direction of the sea (three meters bellow our current elevation).

The first landmark of note was to be the Hornibrook Bridge, however on route to this we had to cross a freeway. This was achieved by use of a pedestrian foot bridge, which in place of steps to reach the walkway, had two magnificent spiral columns on either end. Under normal circumstances, this would not be an obstacle for your common or garden recreational skater (except on the way back when you feel you are about to expire), however as the majority of the tour takes place on exceptionally flat bike paths, Amber had elected to wear five wheel racing skates. These consist of the aforementioned five wheels, a slither of some exceptionally advanced lightweight metallic alloy to hold them in place and a plastic sock affair to attach the wheels to your feet. That’s it, nothing as frivolous as a brake to add an extra couple of ounces and knock another two thousands of a second off your lap time. While wearing these, it would seem that braking can be achieved in one of two ways. Either a fairly standard t-stop can be induced (which causes undue wear to expensive racing wheels) or a kind of alternating inverted ‘V’ can be formed with your feet (I am sure this has a technical name but I have no idea what it may be) so that you sort of bounce to a juddering stop. While both these techniques work reasonably effectively on flat ground, down the steep spiral slope of the foot bridge, these were not really going to provide enough retardation to prevent a high speed excursion to the scene of the inevitable accident. This naturally led to a request for braking assistance, nobly offered from Vaughan. Now I have been the recipient of braking assistance from Vaughan in the past, and I can vouch for the fact that he has absolutely no trouble double braking for considerable distances down the steepest of slopes without the slightest hint of a balance problem. Breaking for himself and Amber down the spiral of the footbridge, under normal circumstances, wouldn’t even raise a squeal from his brake. Normal circumstances however would not include Monte joining up to the braking couplet and forming a train. The combination of a spiral and an unexpected increase in weight overcame the one inch square contact patch of rubber forming the stopping force for three people, and as is so often the case with Planet trains, disaster struck. As is also the case, the only person not to be involved in the falling over element of the inevitable train crash was once again Monte, who stepping over the remnants of the Vaughan-Amber express jokingly recalled Vaughan to compulsory marshal training!

Everyone safely across the footbridge, we carried on along the leaf and twig covered paths towards the Hornibrook Bridge.

In 1926, Manuel Hornibrook founded the company M R Hornibrook Pty Ltd, based in Brisbane. The year after, it won the contract to build the William Jolly Bridge over the river Brisbane. On the strength of this and other projects it began a privately funded project to build the Hornibrook highway between Brisbane and Redcliffe. When it opened in 1935, it included the longest bridge in Australia, the 2.8km Hornibrook Bridge which crosses the mouth of the Pine River and Hay’s Inlet. 1935 also saw the company win the contract to build the Story Bridge, a defining landmark of Brisbane to this day, over half a century after it was completed.

The original Hornibrook Bridge is no longer used by cars; a new reinforced concrete bridge built in 1979 takes care of that job, with the old bridge now used by pedestrians, cyclists, fishermen and in our case skaters. With an elaborate entrance at each end of the bridge and a reasonably smooth surface, it makes a perfect setting for a timed run from one end to the other. With the wind blowing against us, there was no real chance of setting a record (or more accurately, Amber or Russell setting a record), however as the wind was light and the bridge was reasonably clear a fastish time looked possible. Anyone wanting to cruise across went first and everyone else lined up as Monte prepared the timing equipment (stopwatch on his mobile phone). Ready, set, go was called out and with half a dozen mighty strides, Amber (closely followed by Russell) were blurs on the horizon. Everyone else gritted their teeth, bent their heads down into the wind and pushed on. On arriving at the other side, everyone found the first patch of flat ground they could crawl over to and flaked out. Amber and Russell having arrived back in a little over six minutes and change were already looking refreshed and ready for the off. For the remainder of us (of a slightly more human composition), a few minutes rest was eagerly indulged in before we were ready to continue on our way.

From the Hornibrook Bridge, the bike path made its way along the seafront out to Woody point and lunch. Here, a choice of fish and chips or a sandwich was on offer. Selections were made and taken to a set of tables and benches in the shade over the road.

With lunch consumed, our path was reversed and we began heading back to the crooked creek of Boondall. Variety was provided by skating back on a different route; however this still included a return run over the Hornibrook Bridge. As is often the case in these instances, the head wind coming out had somehow managed to change into an even stronger headwind going back. While I’m sure there is some complex meteorological explanation for this little party piece, it seems desperately unfair when you are starting to feel the effects of a long skate combined with a lethargy inducing effects of a hearty lunch. Your brain says tail wind, but your legs are screaming head wind. The return times were noticeably slower than the run out, apart from Amber and Russell who slowed by fractions of second rather than the minutes difference recorded by everyone else.

With a quick pace and very few road crossings, we climbed the three meters of elevation back to the train station in good time. Handshakes all round from Monte, and we headed our separate ways home after a hard but enjoyable days sk8ing.