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Sunday, 1^st April

April Fools Day! When we arrived in Adelaide our thoughts had turned to home and it took quite some will power to stay as long as we did. Of course we are glad we did stay as we had a great time. It didn't stop us from packing up our tent with a smile on our faces, the open road beckoning once more.

Coming from a sailing background, Steve and I have developed over the years a degree of superstition - never go to sea on a Friday, always pass the port to the left and so on. I am sure we would never in a million years have set sail from Adelaide bound for Fremantle on April Fools Day, however, we were bikers now and threw caution to the wind. On such a superstitious morning one can never be completely off their guard!

We were soon out of the city and retracing our steps through the beautiful Clare Valley. We met a group of bikers in Clare, congregating for their Sunday ride. We asked "how long will it take us to get to The Stone Hut bakery?" They umm'd and ah'd between them before coming up with one and a half hours. "That far" we said. Was this the April Fools joke we had to look out for? "Looks like its going to be a late lunch then" said Steve. There was no way we were falling for that one, buying lunch in the next town, only to find the bakery turning up five kilometres down the road. The locals were nearly right. We just built up a bigger appetite. I managed to scoff down a custard tart too! We stopped for a cup of tea in Melrose, the main street looking exactly as we had left it seven weeks before. Then it was through Horrocks Pass once more and across the plains to Port Augusta. Our riding skills had obviously improved as we were keeping up with the local traffic easily.

We pitched our tent for the last time in Port Augusta, and prayed for a dew free night so that we could pack up the tent dry the following day. The last three nights of our journey home would be spent in hard accommodation.

 

Monday, 2^nd April

Our prayers were answered! Well nearly! Only a light dew had fallen and the tent quickly dried while we were having breakfast. It seemed surreal that we were packing up the tent for the last time. We were on our way by 8:30am for a pleasant, easy days run to Ceduna, only 468km away. At the fuel stop in Kimba we met a couple of Ulyssians heading east, from WA's Joondalup branch. They were on a Goldwing, towing a camper trailer. Their journey just beginning, ours coming to an end. Our cabin at the Big4 in Ceduna was great. Our own toilet and shower seemed a luxury we had forgotten existed. Of course we just had to have one last seafood basket, they just aren't quite the same in WA.

 

Always happy to stop at the edge of Australia

Tuesday, 3^rd April

Without the tent to pack away we were showered, fed and ready to leave by 7am! It was time to get some real miles under our belts, hoping to make Madura some 673km away. It was a great riding day, not too hot, with a good following breeze, which worked wonders for the fuel consumption. We will never forget the feeling of riding on the open road, mile after mile with hardly a care in the world. Noticing every scenic change, the Highway Heaven feeling so electric at times it almost felt like a tangible thing.

Nullarbor Roadhouse

It was usually me who went and handed over the credit card when we had filled up with fuel. I always enjoyed the brief exchanges I had with the colourful characters who worked in the roadhouses. When we arrived at Nullarbor I was delighted with the guy on duty. He wore a big cowboy hat together with a leather waste coat and he really looked the part. It was a warm day, and I don't know how he managed to keep the jacket on! I noticed right next to the counter, creatures, carefully preserved in large pickle jars - scorpions, spiders, snakes, and asked where they found them. He replied "I caught most of them, usually first thing in the mornin', right there on the door step!" Brought shivers down my spine just the thought of it. I was so taken by this guy that he got a mention in a song I was writing.

 

When the days turn to winter and my spirit gets restless,

Its time to hit the road for a month or three.

Don't look for nothin' special,

Just a chance to find my soul

And meet that fancy dude at the Nullarbor tree!

 

We were making good time when we arrived at Eucla, so we rode on the extra 180km to Madura. The strong following breeze stayed with us all day and it sure made for comfortable riding. In the motel room next door to us was a cyclist, riding from east to west. The strong easterly wind had helped him cover the 180km between Eucla and Madura in one day! We stuck to some good old truckie tucker for dinner and settled in to watch TV before falling easily to sleep.

 

Coffee Break

Wednesday, 4^th April

We were up and away with just a cup of coffee to sustain us until Caiguna, 155km away. A dense fog had descended on Madura overnight, however it was very localised, and the air was clear as soon as we were out of the valley. Caiguna was only one and a half hours away, and when we arrived, we were delighted with the sight of all those trucks parked outside. We knew we were going to get a good bacon and egg sandwich! One thing you have to get used to at the roadhouses, there are prices for truckies, and prices for everyone else. No prizes for guessing who pays the most!

The 46km of road works east of Balladonia gave us plenty of opportunity to stretch our legs when it was our turn to let the traffic through. We had made it all the way to Norseman by 2:30pm, 521km behind us. We stopped at the BP roadhouse for fuel and the comfort of the air conditioned cafe, as the day had warmed up considerably. We spent some time admiring the exhibition of old pioneering photographs. Norseman is a real staging post for travellers heading both east and west. I looked across at the motel where we had spent our first night, and thought "I hope it isn't too long before we pass this way again." But there was no time for sentiment, Kalgoorlie still 190km away! We finally reached Kalgoorlie at 5pm. We pulled into the first caravan park we came to. Booked into a self contained unit and enjoyed a good cold beer or two, before walking into town for an "all you can eat" pizza and roast night, excellent value.

 

Thursday, 5^th April

It isn't all over until the fat lady sings and she sure sung loud and clear on our last day. I left my riding jacket in the caravan park office while we were booking in. Unfortunately we didn't notice it was missing until we were ready to leave. Our first thought was that it had been stolen while we were unloading! Despite polite efforts to contact the office after 7am, and staff arriving at 7:30am, they didn't want to give us the jacket until opening time at 8am! They reluctantly gave Steve the jacket after he stood outside the office looking like thunder. We won't be staying there again! It was going to be a hot day and it hadn't started well. I managed to turn some of the anger to creativity and penned this little ditty while riding along:

 

They must do good tucker at the Yellowdine Roadhouse,

There are more truckies than the eye can see.

Must mark it on my road map and write it in my diary,

Next year when I'm travlin' I will stop for tea.

 

My little Pink Panther mascot has travelled with me for 25 years

We rode on and on. The last mile home can often seem the longest. We got soaked in an isolated thunderstorm as we left Mundaring, and the heavy Easter weekend traffic tested our patience one more time! We finally arrived home at 6:45pm.

To celebrate our home coming there was a huge pile of mail to wade through, the burglar alarm kept going off every two hours, the toilet kept filling up and the blinds kept falling down. As if to say "Welcome back, Steve and Jane, welcome back!"

 

The Long Way to Adelaide

Tuesday, 20^th March

When we woke up it was raining. One thing I will say about our tent is it didn't leak. Like the sailing and bike riding we do, we are fine weather campers - bad weather cramps our style. Eating becomes a particularly difficult occupation. The camp kitchen always seemed full of foreigners with long faces. I felt like saying "has someone died," but they wouldn't have got the joke. We muscled our way in, made ourselves at home and enjoyed our tea and toast - we had as much right to be there as they did.

The rain would not let up so we put on our wet weather gear and got to work. Checkout time is 10am. I let the office know that we were running a little late due to the weather and they looked at me as if to say "just this once." I felt like saying "get a life mate." What difference is half an hour going to make if there is no one waiting to check in? Of course I said nothing. They certainly weren't going to let us have any preferential treatment even though we were Big4 members. The caravan park also had an internet cafe. The one and only terminal was out of order so we asked at the office if they would be so kind and look up the latest weather information on the net. Lets just say they were reluctant! No service above and beyond the call of duty.

Finally we were ready to leave. Our newly tuned motorcycles, together with roads wet and swimming in oil made us focussed and cautious. In the heavy city traffic we had only covered 25km in the first hour - we were ready to stop before the journey had even begun. We rested at the nearest bakery with a pie and a cup of coffee. This refreshing break didn't stop us from getting lost trying to find the Gippsland Highway. The weather cleared and before long we were riding along another great road and smiling again. We had hoped to make it all the way to Bairnsdale but somewhere along the way we must have been lost in a time-warp. We were filling up with fuel at Yarram, it was already 4pm, Bairnsdale still 140km away. So we made camp at Yarram. We had the camp kitchen all to ourselves this time. After dinner we lounged in some old cane chairs and watched The Bill on TV - luxury!

 

Lakes Entrance

Wednesday, 21^st March

By lunch time we were in Bairnsdale, the tent was up and we were ready to go riding in the place they call Gippsland. How sweet it is to slow down a little and spend more quality time exploring! We rode down to Paynesville. There were yachts, powerboats and house boats everywhere - great trailer-sailor country. We spotted the yacht Myvanwe which used to belong to our cruising friends Graham and Marika. She was looking a little neglected, nothing that couldn't be fixed with some TLC. Then it was back to camp for happy hour and a great BBQ tea.

 

Lets go up the hill

Thursday, 22^nd March

Being so endeared to food we decided to go on a food crawl. So it was the lovely little town of Metung for morning tea, Lakes Entrance for lunch and Bruthen for afternoon tea. The roads were great. The early rain had turned the hills emerald green and the area reminded us very much of England. Lakes Entrance is another fascinating place for sailors. A large fishing fleet work out of this port - in the words of Ali G - "respect." It is not a haven for deep drafted vessels as the bared entrance is shallow. We couldn't resist a seafood basket for lunch. We will miss the cold water fish from Tasmania and Victoria. It certainly appeals to our taste buds. We didn't arrive back at camp until late afternoon. Where we pitched our tent there wasn't a tree in site and it would have been far to hot to rest in the afternoon sun.

 

Jane crossing Livingston Creek

Friday, 23^rd March

We were due home in two weeks and home was along way away. We had spent all the time we could afford in the Gippsland area, but we will be back that's for sure. Our idea was to take the Great Alpine Road to Bright, spend a few days sampling the delightful roads in the Alpine region, then start heading west, breaking the journey for a few days in Adelaide before taking on the Nullarbor once more.

It is not true to say that we had become complacent about the weather forecast but we didn't take it as seriously as when we were sailing. We hadn't heard the forecast so we just packed our bags and hit the Great Alpine road. By mid morning we were riding in a savage westerly gale. The day was still quite bright, but the bullets of wind on some of the bends made us sit up and take notice.

Not unduly worried we stopped for the promise of a great pie at the wood fired bakery in Swifts Creek. We were disappointed to find the pie cooked in a conventional oven. There was no wood fired bakery. The guy who stokes the fire was busy helping to put out real fires in the national park! Not to worry, it was still a nice example of a pie! We got back on our bikes and off we went. The road enjoyable in every way despite the wind.

On our approach to Dinner Plain, out of nowhere the clouds came rolling in. We stopped to put on our wet weather trousers. Steve said "I don't like the look of this," neither did I. We were soon back on the road, riding in the kind of drizzle that will soak you to the bone without you noticing it! We took shelter in the refuge at Dinner Plain, made tea and chatted to other travellers. The staff in the resort were most obliging and assisted us with the latest weather information. A thunderstorm was sitting right over the top of us. The advice was wait half an hour then we should be riding in sunny conditions again. So we waited, and we waited. The conditions weren't severe, just persistent.

Caught out at Mt Hotham

We saddled up once more and headed to Mt Hotham only 11km away. Things turned ugly just as we were riding into town. A torrential downpour lashed at us with such force we stopped to catch our breath at the visitor centre. Of course the place is a ghost town out of the ski season. When the rain eased and the wind died to a zephyr, the fog rolled in. The densest fog I have ever seen, visibility 15m. We discussed our options. Take a room here at the resort, but for how long? The locals were tipping a possible early fall of snow! The temperature was 15oC, a far cry from the hot day down on the plains. The thought of being stuck at Mt Hotham was beyond comprehension and we made the decision to ride on. I went in front. We had only the snow poles and road markings to guide us. At one point Steve lost sight of my tail light and thought I had stopped even though I promised I wouldn't. Twenty minutes of mega concentration and we were out of the fog as if nothing had happened.

Our troubles weren't quite over. Steve boiled the brake fluid in his rear brake. Our visit to Bright turned out to be only long enough to make a few phone calls in search of a mechanic. It was 3pm on a Friday afternoon. What hope did we have of finding someone to help us before Monday. But we did. We found a very obliging guy at Wangaratta. He stayed open until we arrived and changed the break fluid on the spot. What service, we will never forget this level of hospitality.

We found a caravan park, pitched our tent and licked our wounds over an icy cold beer. After dark we walked into town and celebrated with Pizza on the pavement. It was still 32^oC!

 

Ned Kelly

Saturday, 24^th March

When in Rome do what the Romans do, right? So we went to Glenrowan and learnt about Ned Kelly. The town of Glenrowan is still being developed as a tourist destination. We noticed an unhealthy competition between the two museums, so much so that maybe neither of them will survive. I was completely taken by the Ned story, I felt quite teary as I walked around the museum. When I introduce my song My Lady My Lover, I have always used American outlaw Jessie James in my pre song patter. I'll be using Ned Kelly from now on. It is only through lack of knowledge that I hadn't used him in the first place.

 

Car park at Australian Super Bikes, Winton race track

Sunday, 25^th March

When we found out that the Australian Super Bikes were racing at Winton Raceway we couldn't resist another day at the races. What a fabulous track. There were no high fences and the track was so close to the spectators it made us step backwards a couple of times! From where we were standing you could see just about the whole track, amazing. It would have to be the most entertaining track we have ever been to. It is a wonder it hasn't been closed down with all the litigation talk. It cost $40 each for a day ticket. When the Super Bikes were at Wanneroo in 2006 it was only $25. Worth every penny though, and yes we will be looking out for opportunities to visit Winton again.

 

Mansfield - Whitfield Road

Monday, 26^th March

Up before dawn. The lights in the camp-kitchen only come on at night so we were drinking tea and eating toast by torch light. We were heading for home now, no doubt about it. We incorporated three of The Bears rides into the days riding. This kept us on the back roads, out of the traffic and enjoying some fabulous scenery along the way - what could be better. We had to negotiate Bendigo which was more difficult that it sounds with our level of road maps. A helpful Ulyssian gave us our final instructions and we were home and hosed. St Arnaud became our home for the night. That's a nice looking little town. The caravan park is situated high on a hill and had lovely views. After a full days riding we were too tired to walk into town. Next time around!

 

Tuesday, 27^th March

We had lost daylight saving by now. We missed it in the evening, made us want to go to bed at 7:30pm. By the clock we were up and away by 7:30am which was great for morale, Adelaide was 540km away. The extra early start had given us a big appetite and we were pulling into a Macdonald's car park by 9:30am. After that it was head down and bum up for a boring and busy highway ride. The trucks were horrendous. One truck over took me a little close for comfort so I gave him a toot. Why not, it's my arse on the line! A storm was brewing and we were riding in a gusty NW wind. The miles ticked by slowly. I wanted to stop for a drink at the Roadhouse at Murray Bridge. Steve wanted to stop for afternoon tea in Hahndorf. We didn't stop at all. Most of the time we are on the same wavelength but not on this day. It made us a little frustrated and grumpy. As luck would have it we managed to find the caravan park without a hitch. That first cup of tea sure tasted good.

 

National Motor Museum

Wednesday, 28^th March

With the east coast completely consumed by drought, the last time the bikes saw a hose was in Tasmania. In Victoria we weren't even allowed to use a bucket, only the headlights and wind shields could be wiped clean. In South Australia a bucket was still permitted so we sloshed some water around and tarted them up as best we could. My little pink panther, who has travelled with me for 25 years, needed a bath. He had enjoyed the entire journey tied to my handle bars and didn't look any the worse for wear.

After lunch we did the run to Birdwood. I was feeling lazy and took the pillion seat. The ride up Gorge Road was great, Steve wrote in the log "as good as Tassie." Birdwood is the home of the National Motor Museum. The museum has a fantastic display and included iconic cars like "The Last Statesman" to leave the production line before the Commodore styling took over.

Unfortunately we got caught up in the peak hour traffic on the way home. The locals sure know how fast they can take each bend and it wasn't the time of day for a stranger to be cruising around.

That evening we had a BBQ tea and relaxed around our camp site. Adelaide was turning out to be fun.

 

Thursday, 29^th March

There was no doubt that autumn had arrived and winter was just around the corner. We were wearing our beanies in the morning to keep warm.

We took Steve's bike into Adelaide for a new rear tyre. The old one had given up the ghost at 9,500km, such is the hard life of towing a trailer. While we waited we had the pleasure of ambling around the streets in an unknown city. We loved every minute of it.

 

National Motor Museum

Friday, 30^th March

We took both bikes for their last ride through the Adelaide Hills. We did the famous Corkscrew Road. At first we wondered what all the fuss was about, then it really tightened up. At times we were down to first gear, you wouldn't want to stall it that's for sure.

A light drizzle set in as we reached Mt Lofty so we stopped in the Visitors Centre to warm up and give the weather a chance to clear.

Lunch was a cup-of-soup and a home made ham roll in the town park in Hahndorf, followed by a rich example of a German chocolate torte. We agree with The Bear, Hahndorf passes the test on theme villages.

My prized F1 denim jacket was just the place to pin a few motoring badges so I was very keen to return to the motoring museum in Birdwood. The selection of badges was amazing. I bought four, Yamaha (my bike), Kawasaki (Steve's bike), Saab (our car) and Jaguar. The Jaguar badge is in memory of my Ma and Pa's 1968 Jaguar. I haven't found an occasion to wear this jacket but it is a great souvenir of our holiday.

We left Birdwood early enough to miss the peak hour traffic on Gorge Road. It was a great days riding and so close to a major centre - amazing.

 

Saturday, 31^st March

Our last day in Adelaide. It was a toss up whether to go to the car and bike show that had just arrived in town or to see the movie Wild Hogs. The movie was a more relaxing option and we really enjoyed it. To see it while we were away, two middle aged punters on our own road journey, made us laugh our heads off. Anyone who is remotely into bikes will enjoy this movie.

When we returned to camp we packed up as much as we could. It was hard to believe that the following day we would pitch our tent for the last time. Our road journey was nearly over and the trip goes down as one of the most enjoyable things we have ever done.