Monday, January 30, 2006
SLEEPLESS IN JINDABYNE
The Australia Day interstate extravaganza was everything we'd hoped & expected to be. Much merriment & law breaking was had by all & sundry. A protest ride along the Eastern Freeway, 4 sleepless nights, 3 punctures, 2000 odd kms, 2 speeding tickets (on a double demerit points weekend), a hike to Australia's highest mountain & 2 bobsled crashes and the 5 yearly Motorcycle Awareness Ride being the right ingredients for a bonzer trip away, with the kinds of extremes only mother nature can dream up.
Wednesday 25th 8 a.m. a few hundred bikers were fed on to the freeway for the anti lane splitting protest ride aimed at demonstrating the ridiculousness of banning lane splitting. This generated a bit of publicity and the expected silly carry on by car drivers to try and over come bikes riding as cars would, ie taking up as much space as a car & not lane splitting, therfore creating yet more congestion.
From there we ( Mick, Geoff, Gino, Paul, Allan & myself ) headed east to the mountains, onto Buchan with some detours due to bushfires, a magpie that was (almost) dead keen to inspect the intricacies of Paul's front braking system, but none the less along some interesting roads where you could have a bit a squirt without the fear of cops harassing us for such things as dangerous riding, speeding, crossing the unbroken white line, etc. It was a real stinker of a day & we were well greeted at the backpacker's in Buchan with some well needed bottles of cooled water kindly supplied by Kerry (god bless her hydration pack soul) . From there it was off to the local (& only pub) for ice cold brewed beers & some very filling local tucker where Allan's son Tony joined us. The pub closed so we grabbed some take aways & headed back to the backpackers lodge for more drinking & swapping of motorcycling tales of years gone by punctuated by questioning of peoples sexuality regarding the brand of motorcycle ridden, tickling habits (Allan!) and Freudian slips.
After a night punctuated by some bizzare weather where the temperature went form cold to hot then back to cold and hot (you get the idea) and a polyphonic symphony consisting of a room full of snores, farts, sleeping bag unzippings, sleeping zippings back up, and the occasional frustrated sighs of sleeplesness, which would have made John Cage's chance compositions pale in comparison, it was time to tackle Thursday's leg to Jindabyne.
T'was to be another stinker of a day but nicely compensated by the interesting roads picked by our ride leader Al . Nothing quite massages a biker's heart like a sign that says "WINDING ROAD NEXT 90 KMS". What followed was a lovely, well surfaced roller coaster road of ups, downs, lefts, rights with the odd sprinkling of marsupial & avian life thrown in just to keep you on edge. This was followed by a couple short sections (12 to 16 kms, which had Geoff on his brand new limited edition ZX6R positively anal curling) of gravel road (can't have your cake & eat it too!) followed by some more slightly more open twisties, which were very fast & a shitload of fun! : )
At one point I decided it would be a good idea to get ahead of everyone else to take some photos, all well and good, but Al saw this as either a "phisical challange!" or an excuse to go blasting around the countryside. Either way, my poor old '85 FZ750, with its insatiable appetite for chowing down on some engine oil at sustained speed, is no match for Kawasaki's latest 1 litre strap on projectile, so at the next stop I made it clear to Al, that I wasn't casting aspertions upon his manhood, but merely wanted to get ahead to capture some of the visuals of the trip. Encountered another short bit of gravel where we'd lost Mick, Gino & Geoff for a while, time well spent baking in the sun, observing some cows in a paddock through my binoculars (don't get me wrong, I love animals but not in that way! There was nothing else to look at, seriously!) From there it was a short trip to Jindabyne, our base for the next 3 nights, where we were joined by Rob & John two up and their relatives from Italy, Lorenzo & Emmanuela, who arrived at 23:00 from Melbourne riding though the storm carnage and night critters & another Geoff from Sydney (who funnily enough was riding the same model, colours & everyting ) as the bike Melbourne Geoff traded in for his new one! Still can't believe John rode up with a rear tyre that was bald and displayed the kind of profile more suited to Dutch barn roofs! That night we roasted in the cabins in weather that was more akin to cooking a leg of lamb (yet another sleeples night due to more snoring, myself being quite partial to letting fly with my best impersonation of a jack hammer in full flight) .
The next day we drove a short distance to Thredbo ski village to hike up to the summit of Australia's highest mountain. Due to the previous night's revelry, I tried to make amends by drinking copious amounts of water to combat the beers consumed and to rehydrate before the hike. The roller coaster road combined with a gut full of alcohol & H2O resulting in a sensational piece of performace art otherwise known as 'street pizza'. After questioning the price of a couple of bottles of water & two chicken salad rolls I received my 'good morning, how can we help you, enjoy your time in our village!' (read as: blatant abuse & questioning of my cultual background for supposedly being a tight arse) we caught the chair lift to the top and joined the pilgrimage to Mount Kosciuszko. It turned out not to be the 'hike' I was expecting but more of a slog along some steel mesh pathway, dodging a strange mixture of international backpackers, uber nationalist patriots (complete with Aussie flags in backpacks), small numbers of Poles paying honamage to the namesake and the surveyor of the mountain. Strangest thing was seeing people calling loved ones on mobile phones fromt the 'top of Australia' Didn't know there was coverage up there! On the way back, Gino & I got sick of walking the trodden path so we decided to walk a ridge line off the side instead. When we got to the top, we found a peak that seemed more inviting so we headed in that direction, only to find another bigger & more interesting peak, follewod by yet another! Eventually we made our way back across some really nice country. Well worth it! After realising we weren't going to find Bin Laden, we headed back to meet up with the rest of the crew. After a couple of cold beers we caught the chair lift back down to the village & went bob sledding where Allan & myself attempted to launch the wheeled bob sleds into a low earth orbit. Didn't know you could fishtail a bobsled, but it can be done! Ended up with a bit of claret on my hand, some grass stains and a concreted desire to 'come back next year to see if I could better my lap time'. Then it was back to Jindabyne (no street pizza this time) for a decent meal, more beers and yet another night of hot weather & no sleep.
Early start on Saturday to head to the Nation's capital for the 5 yearly Motorcycle Awarness ride to the Parliament lawns. More stinkin' hot riding, but well worth it for the general motorcycling assault on the capital city! There's nothing quite like being part of a collumn of thousands of bikers rolling through, well anywhere really! There was the usual speeches, with a band playing and motorcyclists swapping stories of where they rode from, the adventures along the way and recommendations of routes 'you gotta ride'. Then It was back to Jindy. Funny how Canberra's roads seem to just go round & round in circles. I thing the deigner was a huge fan of Mandalas. With 60 odd kms to go, Al got a puncture. It would have been all well and good if it wasn't for the fact that the glue in his puncture repair kit had gone off. Luckily some bikers came along who had a working puncture repair kit and the offending hole was successfully plugged. We dodged an impeding storm on the way back but it seemed about 25 kms out our luck ran out. All I can say is thank goodness for man's abilty to manufacture water proof jackets! It was like a king tide had decided to suddenly take over the road. Our last night in Jindabyne was capped off with a collective meal at one of the local pubs and followed by some ridiculous drinking until 3 o'clock in the morning. 'fun but in no sense civilised'
Early sunday morning we took of back to Melbourne trying to stay off the boring roads. Didn't take long before before Gino & myself got pinged by New South Wales' finest. Picture a lovely winding downhill narrow mountain road with the only straight bit for miles being where the coppers had set up their little revenue raising trap. To add insult to injury it was double licence demerit point weekend! Not sure how many I lost, but Gino lost 6 (read half) in one fell swoop! Not happy Jan! I faired a little bit better as I was in the next catagory down, so I could consider that to be my birthday present for the day. We had a failrly uneventful, but hot ride back apart from Geoff & Mick who copped some torrential downpour technology on the route closer to Melbourne. Having seperated from the rest of the group they found themselves with a puncture in Mick's rear tyre with no puncture repair kit. No worries, ring Honda Rider Assist, who came back with a 'do you have a spare tyre'! Because we all carry a spare tyre on our bike, like what the &#*$ ! By that stage I was enjoying a cold beer & a hot kebab from the local reputable Turkish food vendor.
Thus ends another installment in the Moomins Motorcycle Club saga.
After recovery, can't wait for the next adventure! Don't know where it will be or when it will be, but I'm sure Snufkin & friends will approve!
Adios Omeba!
Wednesday 25th 8 a.m. a few hundred bikers were fed on to the freeway for the anti lane splitting protest ride aimed at demonstrating the ridiculousness of banning lane splitting. This generated a bit of publicity and the expected silly carry on by car drivers to try and over come bikes riding as cars would, ie taking up as much space as a car & not lane splitting, therfore creating yet more congestion.
From there we ( Mick, Geoff, Gino, Paul, Allan & myself ) headed east to the mountains, onto Buchan with some detours due to bushfires, a magpie that was (almost) dead keen to inspect the intricacies of Paul's front braking system, but none the less along some interesting roads where you could have a bit a squirt without the fear of cops harassing us for such things as dangerous riding, speeding, crossing the unbroken white line, etc. It was a real stinker of a day & we were well greeted at the backpacker's in Buchan with some well needed bottles of cooled water kindly supplied by Kerry (god bless her hydration pack soul) . From there it was off to the local (& only pub) for ice cold brewed beers & some very filling local tucker where Allan's son Tony joined us. The pub closed so we grabbed some take aways & headed back to the backpackers lodge for more drinking & swapping of motorcycling tales of years gone by punctuated by questioning of peoples sexuality regarding the brand of motorcycle ridden, tickling habits (Allan!) and Freudian slips.
After a night punctuated by some bizzare weather where the temperature went form cold to hot then back to cold and hot (you get the idea) and a polyphonic symphony consisting of a room full of snores, farts, sleeping bag unzippings, sleeping zippings back up, and the occasional frustrated sighs of sleeplesness, which would have made John Cage's chance compositions pale in comparison, it was time to tackle Thursday's leg to Jindabyne.
T'was to be another stinker of a day but nicely compensated by the interesting roads picked by our ride leader Al . Nothing quite massages a biker's heart like a sign that says "WINDING ROAD NEXT 90 KMS". What followed was a lovely, well surfaced roller coaster road of ups, downs, lefts, rights with the odd sprinkling of marsupial & avian life thrown in just to keep you on edge. This was followed by a couple short sections (12 to 16 kms, which had Geoff on his brand new limited edition ZX6R positively anal curling) of gravel road (can't have your cake & eat it too!) followed by some more slightly more open twisties, which were very fast & a shitload of fun! : )
At one point I decided it would be a good idea to get ahead of everyone else to take some photos, all well and good, but Al saw this as either a "phisical challange!" or an excuse to go blasting around the countryside. Either way, my poor old '85 FZ750, with its insatiable appetite for chowing down on some engine oil at sustained speed, is no match for Kawasaki's latest 1 litre strap on projectile, so at the next stop I made it clear to Al, that I wasn't casting aspertions upon his manhood, but merely wanted to get ahead to capture some of the visuals of the trip. Encountered another short bit of gravel where we'd lost Mick, Gino & Geoff for a while, time well spent baking in the sun, observing some cows in a paddock through my binoculars (don't get me wrong, I love animals but not in that way! There was nothing else to look at, seriously!) From there it was a short trip to Jindabyne, our base for the next 3 nights, where we were joined by Rob & John two up and their relatives from Italy, Lorenzo & Emmanuela, who arrived at 23:00 from Melbourne riding though the storm carnage and night critters & another Geoff from Sydney (who funnily enough was riding the same model, colours & everyting ) as the bike Melbourne Geoff traded in for his new one! Still can't believe John rode up with a rear tyre that was bald and displayed the kind of profile more suited to Dutch barn roofs! That night we roasted in the cabins in weather that was more akin to cooking a leg of lamb (yet another sleeples night due to more snoring, myself being quite partial to letting fly with my best impersonation of a jack hammer in full flight) .
The next day we drove a short distance to Thredbo ski village to hike up to the summit of Australia's highest mountain. Due to the previous night's revelry, I tried to make amends by drinking copious amounts of water to combat the beers consumed and to rehydrate before the hike. The roller coaster road combined with a gut full of alcohol & H2O resulting in a sensational piece of performace art otherwise known as 'street pizza'. After questioning the price of a couple of bottles of water & two chicken salad rolls I received my 'good morning, how can we help you, enjoy your time in our village!' (read as: blatant abuse & questioning of my cultual background for supposedly being a tight arse) we caught the chair lift to the top and joined the pilgrimage to Mount Kosciuszko. It turned out not to be the 'hike' I was expecting but more of a slog along some steel mesh pathway, dodging a strange mixture of international backpackers, uber nationalist patriots (complete with Aussie flags in backpacks), small numbers of Poles paying honamage to the namesake and the surveyor of the mountain. Strangest thing was seeing people calling loved ones on mobile phones fromt the 'top of Australia' Didn't know there was coverage up there! On the way back, Gino & I got sick of walking the trodden path so we decided to walk a ridge line off the side instead. When we got to the top, we found a peak that seemed more inviting so we headed in that direction, only to find another bigger & more interesting peak, follewod by yet another! Eventually we made our way back across some really nice country. Well worth it! After realising we weren't going to find Bin Laden, we headed back to meet up with the rest of the crew. After a couple of cold beers we caught the chair lift back down to the village & went bob sledding where Allan & myself attempted to launch the wheeled bob sleds into a low earth orbit. Didn't know you could fishtail a bobsled, but it can be done! Ended up with a bit of claret on my hand, some grass stains and a concreted desire to 'come back next year to see if I could better my lap time'. Then it was back to Jindabyne (no street pizza this time) for a decent meal, more beers and yet another night of hot weather & no sleep.
Early start on Saturday to head to the Nation's capital for the 5 yearly Motorcycle Awarness ride to the Parliament lawns. More stinkin' hot riding, but well worth it for the general motorcycling assault on the capital city! There's nothing quite like being part of a collumn of thousands of bikers rolling through, well anywhere really! There was the usual speeches, with a band playing and motorcyclists swapping stories of where they rode from, the adventures along the way and recommendations of routes 'you gotta ride'. Then It was back to Jindy. Funny how Canberra's roads seem to just go round & round in circles. I thing the deigner was a huge fan of Mandalas. With 60 odd kms to go, Al got a puncture. It would have been all well and good if it wasn't for the fact that the glue in his puncture repair kit had gone off. Luckily some bikers came along who had a working puncture repair kit and the offending hole was successfully plugged. We dodged an impeding storm on the way back but it seemed about 25 kms out our luck ran out. All I can say is thank goodness for man's abilty to manufacture water proof jackets! It was like a king tide had decided to suddenly take over the road. Our last night in Jindabyne was capped off with a collective meal at one of the local pubs and followed by some ridiculous drinking until 3 o'clock in the morning. 'fun but in no sense civilised'
Early sunday morning we took of back to Melbourne trying to stay off the boring roads. Didn't take long before before Gino & myself got pinged by New South Wales' finest. Picture a lovely winding downhill narrow mountain road with the only straight bit for miles being where the coppers had set up their little revenue raising trap. To add insult to injury it was double licence demerit point weekend! Not sure how many I lost, but Gino lost 6 (read half) in one fell swoop! Not happy Jan! I faired a little bit better as I was in the next catagory down, so I could consider that to be my birthday present for the day. We had a failrly uneventful, but hot ride back apart from Geoff & Mick who copped some torrential downpour technology on the route closer to Melbourne. Having seperated from the rest of the group they found themselves with a puncture in Mick's rear tyre with no puncture repair kit. No worries, ring Honda Rider Assist, who came back with a 'do you have a spare tyre'! Because we all carry a spare tyre on our bike, like what the &#*$ ! By that stage I was enjoying a cold beer & a hot kebab from the local reputable Turkish food vendor.
Thus ends another installment in the Moomins Motorcycle Club saga.
After recovery, can't wait for the next adventure! Don't know where it will be or when it will be, but I'm sure Snufkin & friends will approve!
Adios Omeba!
Thursday, January 05, 2006
Bloody Schizo Victorian Weather!
All the best fer 2006! New year's I decided I needed to do something a bit different, so I took off to the Grampians in the spirit of Moonins M.C. ( always take the path you haven't been on because you don't know what you'll find ).
By the time I got over my hangover, got the bike packed and actually got on the road it was mid afternoon & the temp jumped about 10 degrees in the space of an hour or two. So there I am riding the shortest ( & most boring ) route possible - straight out along the freeway west. Must say 40 odd degrees in leathers & jacket with a hot, gusting head / cross wind was not my idea of fun. Kinda felt like a fish incased in a freshly used footy sock in a tumble dryer. Anyway stopped off at some place called Beaufort, downed 600mls of water and an rasberry split in the time it's taken me to write this sentence, and enjoyed a brief respite in the comfort of the servo's struggling air conditioner, which I imagined must've been the refrigeration equivelant of a en elderly smoker with some well developed respiratory disease, but still better than outside. Finally got to Hall's Gap in the Grampians with bush fires towards the north eastern part ( Stawell area ). Rode to the top of some lovely mountain and was greeted with a fantastic view of more mountains, valleys & no buildings to be seen, grouse! Found a nice little camping spot with only two other camp sites who were quite well behaved really, except for one, which was playing Michael Bolton butchering some lovely classic numbers at a volume just above socially acceptable, but by that stage I didn't care anymore. I'd set up my tent, went down to the creek and had a wash. As I was standing there on top of this mini weir soaking my feet in the running water I spotted my first wild & biggest yabbie I've ever seen. This thing was as big as my foot from head to tail! I rolled a cigarette and watched this critter as it crawled around completely disregarding my presence & cursed the fact that I was in a national park on a total fire ban day! I'd just bought a new camping stove & was dead keen to christen it, mmmm would've been sooooooooo delicious. Feeling like I've just gone through an intense training session with a champion sumo wrestler in a sauna, I never saw midnight.
Anyway, got up the next morning and did a short hike up to this ridge line where I came across more views of mountains & valleys & no buildings. Seems there's heaps of that kinda thing there. Broke camp, went to town to get some info & maps and proceeded to head up the next mountain for a promised "sensational view of mountains, valleys & you can get a good look at the bushfire" action. Half way up the the wet came in and I soon found myself stepping off the bike & going to the viewing platform to see a great big mass of cloud nothing. I stood there watching the mass of nothing making some sort of futile attempt to will the mass away, not bothering to take off my helmet whilst car loads of tourists & families got out of the cars, walked to the viewing platform, oohed & aahed over "how cloudy it is" and promptly ran like only people in shorts who've just got out of their climate controlled, 4 wheeled personal loans can, back to their said financial extensions. So that's all the thanks I get for putting myself through thermal & psychological hell to get there! Figure there was nothing for it but to go back down the mountain, very slowly as all those hot days & traffic had kindly laid a nice layer of oil, grease & diesel on the bitumen, practically turning it into an ice rink. Found the only pub within miles, something I have a natural talent for (bit like vultures looking for carrion) & sat down to a proper counter steak sandwich lunch accompanied by a lovely pot of VB in a nice little glass with a handle and windows on the sides so you always had a fantastic view of your beer.
Well, the rain didn't stop, so I cut my losses and rode back to Melbourne non stop in the pissing rain, not happy Jan! Although the temperature was much cooler, I still had the bloody crosswind to deal with. Still at least the only bits that got wet were my hands & feet, as I was wearing my summer gloves & water proof boots which over the years seemed to have lost some of that quality.
Overall, probably one of the most extreme new year's I'd had, but none the less fun & not boring. I feel it's going to be an interesting year of change & extremes, but time will tell.
Looking forward to the Australia Day 5 dayer trip into the snowy mountains for some more scratching, a climb up to the highest mountain in the country & some crazy national motorcyclist gathering in Canberra. Should be a hoot!
By the time I got over my hangover, got the bike packed and actually got on the road it was mid afternoon & the temp jumped about 10 degrees in the space of an hour or two. So there I am riding the shortest ( & most boring ) route possible - straight out along the freeway west. Must say 40 odd degrees in leathers & jacket with a hot, gusting head / cross wind was not my idea of fun. Kinda felt like a fish incased in a freshly used footy sock in a tumble dryer. Anyway stopped off at some place called Beaufort, downed 600mls of water and an rasberry split in the time it's taken me to write this sentence, and enjoyed a brief respite in the comfort of the servo's struggling air conditioner, which I imagined must've been the refrigeration equivelant of a en elderly smoker with some well developed respiratory disease, but still better than outside. Finally got to Hall's Gap in the Grampians with bush fires towards the north eastern part ( Stawell area ). Rode to the top of some lovely mountain and was greeted with a fantastic view of more mountains, valleys & no buildings to be seen, grouse! Found a nice little camping spot with only two other camp sites who were quite well behaved really, except for one, which was playing Michael Bolton butchering some lovely classic numbers at a volume just above socially acceptable, but by that stage I didn't care anymore. I'd set up my tent, went down to the creek and had a wash. As I was standing there on top of this mini weir soaking my feet in the running water I spotted my first wild & biggest yabbie I've ever seen. This thing was as big as my foot from head to tail! I rolled a cigarette and watched this critter as it crawled around completely disregarding my presence & cursed the fact that I was in a national park on a total fire ban day! I'd just bought a new camping stove & was dead keen to christen it, mmmm would've been sooooooooo delicious. Feeling like I've just gone through an intense training session with a champion sumo wrestler in a sauna, I never saw midnight.
Anyway, got up the next morning and did a short hike up to this ridge line where I came across more views of mountains & valleys & no buildings. Seems there's heaps of that kinda thing there. Broke camp, went to town to get some info & maps and proceeded to head up the next mountain for a promised "sensational view of mountains, valleys & you can get a good look at the bushfire" action. Half way up the the wet came in and I soon found myself stepping off the bike & going to the viewing platform to see a great big mass of cloud nothing. I stood there watching the mass of nothing making some sort of futile attempt to will the mass away, not bothering to take off my helmet whilst car loads of tourists & families got out of the cars, walked to the viewing platform, oohed & aahed over "how cloudy it is" and promptly ran like only people in shorts who've just got out of their climate controlled, 4 wheeled personal loans can, back to their said financial extensions. So that's all the thanks I get for putting myself through thermal & psychological hell to get there! Figure there was nothing for it but to go back down the mountain, very slowly as all those hot days & traffic had kindly laid a nice layer of oil, grease & diesel on the bitumen, practically turning it into an ice rink. Found the only pub within miles, something I have a natural talent for (bit like vultures looking for carrion) & sat down to a proper counter steak sandwich lunch accompanied by a lovely pot of VB in a nice little glass with a handle and windows on the sides so you always had a fantastic view of your beer.
Well, the rain didn't stop, so I cut my losses and rode back to Melbourne non stop in the pissing rain, not happy Jan! Although the temperature was much cooler, I still had the bloody crosswind to deal with. Still at least the only bits that got wet were my hands & feet, as I was wearing my summer gloves & water proof boots which over the years seemed to have lost some of that quality.
Overall, probably one of the most extreme new year's I'd had, but none the less fun & not boring. I feel it's going to be an interesting year of change & extremes, but time will tell.
Looking forward to the Australia Day 5 dayer trip into the snowy mountains for some more scratching, a climb up to the highest mountain in the country & some crazy national motorcyclist gathering in Canberra. Should be a hoot!
