MOUNTAINS OF CHANGE: Moving to a mountain bike town for a lifestyle change
It’s an organic progression for those who enjoy mountain biking to enjoy being surrounded by natural beauties (or vice versa). And this is exactly what tree change destinations like Bright and surrounds provide.
Words: Georgina von Marburg
Photos: Georgina von Marburg, Tim Bardsley-Smith
Apparently, you’re not a “local” in the Victorian High Country unless you were born here or until you die here. It’s a strict and fiercely guarded criteria, aimed at preserving a sense of respect for the heritage of the area and those who established themselves before the term “tree change” became a popular phrase to idealise country life.
Regardless of your opinion on the “local” debate, there’s something inherently brilliant about leaving the big smoke for the mountains – especially if you’re a mountain biker. The Covid-induced mountain bike boom (can we please create a short-hand term for this already?) certainly catalysed an influx of residents to Victoria’s High Country. In some ways, this has been to the detriment of the established communities – the ratio of homes to workers to holiday makers is temporarily at crisis levels. But that’s a story for another day.
The fact is, as these interviews will tell, this migration was occurring well before Covid. It’s an organic progression for those who enjoy mountain biking to enjoy being surrounded by natural beauties (or vice versa). And this is exactly what tree change destinations like Bright and surrounds provide. Of course, this area is littered with recently built world-class trail networks
I myself moved to Bright in Autumn 2021. However, it wasn’t to escape a Covid-ridden capital city; I grew up in the NSW/VIC border town of Albury, an hour from Bright, and frequented the High Country for camping and snow-play as a kid throughout school holidays. In many ways, moving to Bright felt like coming home. But this time, I was arriving with a fully-fledged passion for mountain biking. I was leaving behind an excellent job and a close group of friends; but I was almost too comfortable in Canberra. I moved to Bright without any serious job prospects or housing, and by some miracle have landed emphatically on my feet. As it turns out, I took the leap of faith many have taken before me, and here are their stories.
Nick Vlahandreas
Originally from the Eastern suburbs on Melbourne, Nick Vlahandreas moved to the High Country in 2001. If he’s not mountain biking with his daughters, you’ll find him hiking the snowy backcountry of the mountains with his split board. He’s runs a successful town-planning business from their home in the peaceful valley village of Wandiligong, a 10 minute drive from Bright.
But Nick’s current lifestyle wasn’t always so idyllic, and he’s an exemplar of forging your own path in life. His passion for mountain biking began as a kid en route to Blackburn primary school each day, where he would mountain bike through the local bushland reserve. “I reckon that was my connection to the bush… I’d go on these massive all-day missions from Blackburn South all the way to the Dandenong Ranges.”
But in his adulthood, his friends didn’t share this same adventurous zeal. As a university student, he’d trade Melbourne for weekend excursions in the High Country, and usually by himself. “I always had in my head at uni, that I never wanted to work in the city… There were two places I wanted to go: Mansfield and Bright.” In the early 2000s, mountain biking was still in its infancy in these towns, so Nick joined the local AFL teams. “As a 21 year-old I started playing football for the first time in my life. That got me involved in the community more than mountain biking, because mountain biking was so small back then.”
While trail building is now an established industry, Nick was part of a core group of amateur builders in the Mansfield region many years ago. The group included Gerard McHugh (now the General Manager of World Trail), Shannon Rademaker (the brains behind High Line MTB Festival, and the owner of All Terrain Cycles and Gravity Oz Mountain Biking), and Alex “Chumpy” Pullin (Olympic Snowboarder). “We’d get out there at any opportunity and build. We didn’t have the same processes that we do now. It was all just old school: hand tools and wooden ramps over logs,” he laughs.
Now settled with his family in Wandiligong, Nick has turned his attention to his two daughters. The fourteen-year-old has embraced downhill, while the six-year-old is still growing into her Commencal. But apart from enjoying the trails of Mystic Bike Park, Nick is happiest on their acreage outside town. “Since moving to Wandi 4 years ago, I’ve become a bit of a recluse. I don’t come into Bright that often, because Bright has become too busy.” And with his business flourishing from home, Nick has no need to come into the overflowing tourist town. “It has been tempting to sell up everything, cash in, and move elsewhere. But where else can I live an hour from the snow, and with awesome trails at my door?”
Now living his dream lifestyle, Nick has some wise words for those scared to take the plunge. Like many of us who moved to the country, there is an inevitable trade-off between career and lifestyle. “It’s never been about the money, moving up here. If I wanted to earn money, I’d be in Melbourne working for a big company.” But forgoing a chunky paycheck could mean the blossoming of an enviable lifestyle. “You’ve always got to take a punt, and you’ve got to let those opportunities come to you… If you don’t make change, change isn’t going to happen in your lifestyle.”
When asked if he has plans to move again, Nick’s answer (like most interviewees) is an emphatic No. “We’re really entrenched in this community, we love it. And the kids love the environment that they’re in. We’ve definitely got no aspirations of moving.”
Lynn Freirechs
Hailing from spectacular Canada, you might not expect someone from that magical land to settle for a tiny historic Victorian town. But that’s exactly where self-titled “Canalian” Lynn has found her forever home. And of all the times to move, Lynn and her husband embraced Beechworth during the harrowing bush-fires of 2019/2020.
“We spent a few years in a caravan, and while we were travelling, we fell in love with Beechworth and the people here.” Before their travels around Australia, Lynn had moved from a small Canadian community of 200 people to the sunny and bustling Gold Coast. “I never wanted to live in a town that small ever again – and thankfully Beechworth isn’t that small,” she laughs. Having worked in Zambia, Peru, and Japan, Lynn arrived on Aussie shores as a scholarship recipient at the University of Queensland. It speaks volumes for the town of Beechworth, that such a well-travelled person would settle upon this quaint, gold-rush era town.
The reason for moving to Beechworth was twofold. “We didn’t want to raise our child on the Gold Coast – that was pretty obvious for us. The culture didn’t fit us at all.” But mountain biking also played a pivotal role in their move. And while a part of her misses the trails of Nerang, her family was warmly welcomed by the local Beechworth mountain bike club. “The culture of the mountain bikers here is just so inclusive and absolutely wonderful. It’s really a special community of mountain bikers here.”
Apart from the Beechworth Chain Gang Club – of which Lynn is now the President – they were also attracted by the promise of the Indigo Epic Trail. Its development took longer than anticipated, but this truly unique experience is opening this summer. “The places that it takes you to, places that were totally hidden and inaccessible since mining went through here – now we’ll be able to see them. There’s this beautiful waterfall with these giant ferns – it’s just so beautiful.”
However, riding in the High Country also presented new challenges for Lynn. “The people that are here ride a lot. I remember the first time that I went on the local women’s ride, and I threw up twice,” Lynn fondly recalls. “I remember being absolutely blown away by these women who were super fast uphill and technically downhill – they were amazing.” The sheer variety of trails across Beechworth, Mount Beauty, and Bright is partly responsible for the quality of riders produced in this region. “You need different skills to ride here – we don’t have any ‘flow’ trails… There’s so much to be said for the uniqueness and off-camber corners created by hand.”
But when asked if her son has inherited their passion for the sport, the early exposure hasn’t quite manifested in the way they hoped. “We rode everywhere with him [aboard the Mac Ride]. We did double blacks, we did absolutely everything. But now when he has to actually pedal – I don’t think he likes it that much!” In any case, Lynn confident he will find his own way. “All I pray is that he doesn’t play cricket.”
In her advice to prospective migrants to the High Country, Lynn emphasises the importance of community as the centrepiece. “As an adult, it can sometimes be really hard to find your ‘people.’ But I feel like I found that within the first few days [in Beechworth].” It’s these people that make this region the permanent residence for Lynn and her family. “Get involved with the local clubs, and you’ll find your people. We’re all a little bit different, but we all have so much to offer.”
Chris McKnight
Having grown up in Whistler with a family home on the North Shore – Chris has seen some quality trails. But skiing was Chris’s first and foremost sport, having been an elite racer himself before finding work with Australia’s national ski team. When he wasn’t travelling to ski events around the globe, Chris found himself in Sydney with mediocre trails surrounded by a barrage of traffic. He knew the city life was not for him, and desired to return to his mountainous roots.
“Living in Sydney, I really didn’t enjoy throwing the bike in the car and driving for 45 minutes for something pretty average.” After being introduced to the Victorian High Country through the ski team camps, Chris was inspired by the lifestyle and outdoor enthusiasts in the region. “We were based in Bright at the Bright Chalet, so sometimes I’d bring my bike. It got me thinking about the fact that I’m not a city person.”
Throughout the next few years, Chris found himself constantly drawn back to the High Country, for work and pleasure. “I’d fly into Albury and instantly – I was relaxed. We’d be at training camps in New Zealand and [on days off] I would fly to Melbourne, drive up, and do a cyclocross event at Sam Miranda.”
In 2018, after house hunting and deliberating from hotel rooms, Chris bought his home in Beechworth. He was leaving little behind, given the seasonal nature of friendships across the winter Olympic cycle. But the avid cross-country racer and gravel grinder made friends with local riders instantly in his new town. “The Monday night gravel group is unreal, how everyone looks out for each other.” But these friendships expand further than just other cyclists, and is a stark contrast to that of city life. Ironically, there is a greater sense of community in a lightly populated town than a dense metropolis. “Living in Surry Hills [Sydney], the front door was only a metre and a half from my neighbour’s front door. And for 3-4 years I never knew them.” Meanwhile in Beechworth, the surrounding neighbours are half the reason Chris would never leave the area. “They’re just great people, honest and really helpful.”
And while Sydney offers an endless array of eating choices and activities, these luxuries are belittled by the comforts of daily life in the country. Chris now works for Tourism North East, developing gravel biking infrastructure; aside from a job immersed in cycling, TNE is also based locally in Beechworth. “I walk 5 minutes to work, and I come home every day at lunchtime to put a log on the fire.”
Of course, this lifestyle is not for everyone. But for many mountain bikers and lovers of the great outdoors, it’s an ideal setup. “I’ve met so many people who, because of the lockdowns, have moved from Melbourne to here and say it’s the best thing they’ve ever done.” But while lockdowns are an obvious negative to escape from, Chris is another example of a pre-Covid wanderer who settled in the High Country for all the right reasons. Whether he’s chasing the snow, trails, or an epic gravel ride, he’ll forever call these mountains his home.
