Eight Brisbane Mountain Bike Parks in One Big Day

Brisbane has always had a complicated reputation. BrisVegas. BrisBoring. 

Growing up here, it felt small — the kind of place where your high school priest name-dropped Bernard Fanning in a doomed attempt at street cred, and everyone seemed to know someone who knew you. For years I wrote my hometown off as uncool and unremarkable, lumping it in with the crocodile-wrestling clichés of Far North Queensland.

But time and distance change perspective. 

Coming back after time in our beachy queen bee city of Sydney, Brisbane reveals itself as a city that thrives in the early hours – Jacaranda blossoms slick on the footpaths, Bush Stone Curlews screaming at midnight, cyclists rolling out before 5am to squeeze in a lap before work. And for mountain bikers? The River City is a quiet paradise, dotted with trail networks that can be strung together if you’re willing to work for it.

So that’s what we set out to do: one big day linking eight of Brisbane’s most popular trail networks, northside to bayside. Call it a tasting plate, a trail degustation if you will. A ridiculous idea made possible only by stubbornness, sugar, and a questionable amount of caffeine.

The Appetiser: Northside Dirt

We started at Bunyaville, the city’s suburban playground. Morning light spilled across the dry, crunchy trails as we warmed up on Wallaby — trail fairies having recently sprinkled it with a fresh line of poppy jumps. Bunya offers a bit of everything: flow for cross country riders, airtime for the style-hungry, and gradients forgiving enough for beginners. From there, it was a short roll to Ironbark, where the climbs are steeper, the rocks sharper, and the jumps more ambitious. Kombi, once a rough fall-line plunge, has morphed into a sculpted ribbon of berms and tabletops that keeps the locals grinning.

Then came Gap Creek, tucked in the folds of Mt Coot-tha. Rocket Frog and Dingo dished up classic Brisbane flow, but the real prize was a $7 triple-shot espresso at the summit café. With 30km already behind us, we needed it. The day was still young, and the river crossing to the south awaited.

The Midday Miles and Main Course

Brisbane’s brown, snaking river isn’t just a landmark; it’s a dividing line. We followed it via the Coronation Drive bikeway, over bridges and along the veloway, trading banter with the mythical Bike Wizard of Brisbane on his singlespeed. Then the southside feast began.

Underwood was first. A small, compact, a hit of nostalgia for anyone who’d ever raced there. Then Daisy Hill, a local institution, where we rattled through rock gardens and flowy descents before tackling Nirvana, a climb that spat us out hungry, tired, and suddenly aware of just how far we still had to go. 

Cornubia delivered more elevation and tech, Birdwing and Stupidly Happy reminding us that gravity has its price. The price is climbing, guys. Ow. We were getting beyond the capacity of simple sugars at this stage.

By now we were over 100km deep, stomachs growling, energy dipping. The salvation? Proximity to the cafe. But first, onto Bayview. Sandy, open, and dotted with grass trees, we rode through an iconic loop before our very late lunch stop for sushi, caffeine, and, most importantly, a detour to the smelly cheese room at the Valley Way IGA. 

The Final Course

The sun was sliding low as we reached Scribbly Gums, our eighth and final network. The sandy, tame terrain might not win awards, but after ten hours of riding, shooting photos, and chasing snacks, it was the sweetest dessert we could have asked for. We caught the last of the light weaving between the namesake scribbly bark trees, the day finally complete.

Fully cooked after a big trail ride: why Do It?

Life is short, and the whole range of human emotion can be distilled into a single day on the bike. Eight trail networks. 130 kilometres. Thousands of metres of climbing. A very long day punctuated by jelly snakes, Haribo highs, and the occasional existential crisis. Was it logical? Not in the slightest. Was it worth it? Absolutely.

Because that’s Brisbane – once a town I found weird and uncool that I definitely friendzoned, but now that I’m older, I understand how deep the feelings are. Our unassuming hometown hides its treasures in plain sight – in pockets of bushland behind suburbs, in sandy bayside reserves, in climbs that start just a few kilometres from the CBD. Link them together and you realise the River City is something special: a place where mountain biking is woven into the cultural fabric as much as early-morning runs and river ferries.

This was our degustation of dirt: a love letter to Brisbane, written in sweat, dust, and ungodly amounts of carbohydrate. Just avoid the Curlews.

For the full blow-by-blow of the ride, complete with maps, breakout boxes, and the occasional mid-ride meltdown, grab the upcoming issue of AMB here. Thanks to Stelf Cycling for collaboration on this project!