I’ve done a lot of observing on previous drives that there’s really nothing to see outside of Adelaide other than acres upon acres of vineyards. Considering that wining is a secondary industry to mining, it’s understandable, but a bit of variety would be nice.
But not today. I thought I’d saturate myself in vineyards this time, by heading out to the state’s premier wine region (a title that I believe is hotly debated between the Riverland, Limestone Coast and the Adelaide Hills…), and looking for somewhere to go.
Leaving early in the morning to get a good start on an empty road allowed me to bask in the wondrous feeling of having the sun stab me in the eyes for a good hour. Thankfully, as I headed out from Gawler there weren’t many trees near the road to give you that seizure inducing flicker across your eyes.
Approaching Sandy Creek was a smooth stretch of road that had obviously taken the load of heavy trucks. The road had been polished to a smooth finish along the tyre gooves. The wheels of the Swift GTi I was driving insisted on stubbornly following each of these tyre-carved canals, wrenching the steering whenever I strayed away from the polished lines.
Sandy Creek proves to be a typical small town, complete with pub. However, the 80 zone through its entirety means that you’d blink and miss it. The 100 zone beyond the town as you head towards the Barossa township of Lyndoch proves to be a great thrill, with plenty of overtaking opportunities for getting around drowsy early-morning yawners in EA Falcons.
It’s a smooth stretch too. The tyre grooves thankfully had disappeared and I could again return to the normal business of actually controlling the car properly. The little engine squealed, as if relishing the drive. I couldn’t help but yearn for an extra gear, though, as the drone got quite irritating.
One of the Australian twins on this road would have been great.
At the expense of sounding pretentious, as you drive into Lyndoch, there’s Kies winery which makes an awesome White Muscat. You can freeze it for what tastes like a port slushie. Anyway…
Turning left at the middle of Lyndoch, you begin your journey towards Tanunda. The road curls around, up and down hills, making you wring out whatever torque you can find on the way up… before making you regulate your pace on the way back down again. And there’s vineyards.
The road can suddenly kick left and then descend like crazy over railroads and into winery towns. With vineyards. Through Rowland Flat, I recall a brief stay I had at the Barossa Novotel in the middle of last year.
Specifically, I remember the hangover, induced from far too many red wines. From their vineyards. The rooms were nice and clean and proved comfortable for those people who had too many and were skiving off from the conference they were supposed to attend…
The road really opens up right before the town of Tanunda, although the trees they’ve planted along the stretch (clearly for aesthetics) must have grown their roots under the road, causing undulations that would be a riot in a bigger car, but threatened to pitch the light Swift off the road.
After fighting the wheel when driving along the scalextric road near Sandy Creek, the forearms did begin to feel a bit fatigued. A more modern car would fare much better.
Turning right before Tanunda, you’ll smoothly approach Menglers Hill Road. I remember taking this road when I was in the Course Set Up car for the Classic Adelaide Rally many years ago. It was trecherous then, and it’s… well… brown… now. Drought has not been kind.
The road snakes up the hill, offering views over the valley that show the contrast between drought sapped farmland and lush green… vineyards.
The incline served as a great way to brake for the tighter turns, letting you exercise some gusto with the go pedal.
But, eventually, it tones down. The twists give way to gentle, curving grand touring road. The speedo never leaves the posted limit as you simply let the mass of car just cruise along.
The road gently weaves through little gullies and between paddocks as Angaston approaches.
The thought kept re-entering my head “geez, this is a nice escape”. It’s just a reminder that you don’t always need to come home with the smell of brakes, clutch and rubber clinging to your shirt. Sometimes it’s just good to get out and away, returning with a bootload of wine.
From vineyards.