Superbikes, F1 and home to Perth

Winners

The World Super Bikes race meet at Phillip Island is about as good as it gets. Such a unique environment, with the cars parked outside and the bikes allowed to roam around the track boundary, all day if you choose. It was so much fun we took both bikes to the track on all three days. The pit walk was excellent on Saturday, with some of the big names, eg Troy Bayliss and Max Biaggi available for a photo and autograph. Troy Bayliss getting the job done on Sunday capped off a thoroughly enjoyable weekend and we left the track thinking "when will we be able to get back here to do it all again!" The street party in Cowes on Saturday night was a tame affair. Gone are the days when some guy would climb a flag pole only to have someone on the ground trying to shoot him down with a rocket flare! The locals call that "the good old days."

Turn 6 Siberia - Phillip Island Race Track

Camp at Healesville

And where to now? O' yes that's right, Healesville, to get the bikes serviced, new tyres on the Vulcan and ride Reefton and Black Spurs - maybe more than once! Be warned, contrary to some maps, Don Road, between Launching Place and Healesville is not all sealed. We made this little discovery with the trailer in tow the day we left Cowes. If there was a warning sign we didn't see it. I came out of a sharp left hander onto a narrow wooden paved bridge, to be greeted by a gravel road and Steve parked a few meters ahead. All I could come up with was "what the ****?" Did we turn back? Nope. We rode on, like you do and in four short kilometers we got as dirty and dusty as we have ever been.

2008 Melbourne F1 GP Pole Lewis Hamilton MCLAREN MERCEDES

2008 Melbourne F1 GP Podium
 Lewis Hamilton
Nick Heidfeld
Nico Rosberg

With the Formula 1 our intention, from Healesville we went for a week of city life in a hotel in the middle of Melbournes St Kilda. Being F1 fans from the early 80's, a couple of grandstand tickets on pit straight and a hotel, walking distance to the track, is quite a treat. It was an entertaining week despite the relentless heat and our seats in full sun all day long. I took to wearing a wet T Shirt to stay cool. How anyone could sit there in Ferrari Red or McLaren Black God only knows. Fitzroy Street in St Kilda hummed all night long, our hotel windows double glazed to help keep out the noise. One waiter said "wait 'til Friday night, you'll even see purple poodles." We never did, in fact we didn't see a purple pooch at all. This left us wondering if purple poodle was code name for something far more erotic and interesting!

Checking out of our hotel and navigating out of Melbourne tested our tolerance to heat once more. Already 32˚ by 9am and several trips up and down a couple of flights of stairs required to load the bikes and trailer. Parked in a 10 minute zone didn't help. When we were finally ready to leave, I led the way, expecting to turn left at the 2nd set of traffic lights. But the sign said St Kilda Rd. I was expecting Kings Way or "To West Gate Bridge," so I rode on. Realising the error of our ways, we took the next left. At 9:30am on a weekday Melbourne is unforgiving if you get the navigation wrong. Somehow we found our way back to Kings Way, our terms of phrase deteriorating with every wrong turn. "Get a GPS" I hear you say - but that would leave me nothing to write about! It was easy rolling after that, despite a half hour traffic jam just after crossing West Gate Bridge - pain is a relative thing! We were heading home now to Perth, the long way round, via The Great Ocean Road of course. It was Tuesday 18th March and Easter weekend only three days away. On long weekends, if you don't want to set up camp in sight of The Black Stump you have to make a booking, it's that simple. We picked The Grampians for our Easter sojourn, which left a two night stopover at Apollo Bay along the way.

Bush walking in the Grampians

The weather often trips us up when we have to keep to a time table and the ride from Apollo Bay to The Grampians was no exception. A cold front was forecast to arrive in Melbourne by Thursday afternoon. I must admit we didn't take too much notice of it as we were still recovering from 30+ temperatures during the Grand Prix. It looked a little hazy as we turned left at Lavers Hill, and then it came, the first of many squalls we were about to endure over the next couple of hours. My jacket seems to have lost all the water resistant properties it ever had and it wasn't long before we were wet, cold and feeling thoroughly miserable. Stopping for a hot chocolate or a coffee or soup and pies helped to strengthen our resolve. We were lucky it wasn't a really cold day. As we approached Halls Gap I noticed a noise coming from inside my helmet. "UUUrgh" it went! I knew I'd heard it somewhere before and then it came to me, it was the same noise that Lurch used to make on The Adams Family TV show all those years ago!

The drought is broken, Grampians

We were wondering if we could help to break the drought in The Grampians too. Well actually we could and we did. We got a good drenching on Easter Sunday - 38mm. Could it happen again on Easter Monday? Yep. Like sitting ducks we waited for round two and in less that one hour another 50mm had fallen. At 6pm the tent was under water and we were using primitive implements to bail and dig drains around the tent - must remember to bring that little spade next time!

Nearly home, but not many bends

Come the 25th March, we couldn't wait to get out of the place. We were on the road by 9:30am and made it to McDonalds in Horsham for breakie, just before the 10:30 closing time. The weather was a little kinder for our ride to Tanunda in the Barossa.

We took a day off to dry out a little and then set off for home in a serious way. We rode by day and slept soundly in roadhouse motels by night. Calm, cool days made the Nullarbor crossing a delight this time around - this ride really is one of Australia's great road journeys. Four days after leaving Tanunda we were back home in Safety Bay.

So here we are, home again after three months cruising around in this Great Country, mile after mile without a care in the world. I have given thanks many times for being granted "safe passage" and we hope it isn't too long before we are riding along a string of back roads again, looking for nothing more that the enjoyment of a good ride.

Safe riding everyone,

 

Tathra to Phillip Island

Inverloch, Victoria

The last thing we did when we set up camp in Tathra was to hammer our little sign into the ground which reads "a couple of mad dogs live here, enter at own risk." This has served us well, we get few people camping next door let alone coming to visit. This gives us the opportunity to practice our disgraceful habits in peace. When I say "this has served us well," I meant until we arrived in Tathra. On this occasion we had people camped close on either side and the bikes were being prodded and pointed at for the entire week we were there. Still it's nice to see there is such an interest in motorcycles and awareness is a good thing!

We took full advantage of two fine days to ride in the foot hills of the Snowies. The Mt Darragh Rd from Pambula to Bombala and then home again to Tathra via Imlay Rd was a great circuit run. Day two's loop saw us ascend Brown Mountain (with clean underpants), stop for tea in Bombala again and then home via Myrtle Mountain Road. Both runs about 250 - 300km.

And where to now? We could go back to Jindabyne and spend more time riding the Snowies, but we both agreed we would need an outlook for fine weather cast in stone before we would head back in that direction, so we headed SW, and a little closer to home, to the small town of Bruthen, just in time for the blues festival weekend. A civilised bunch of punters enjoyed the overly loud music while our bikes were locked away in a very dusty shed without their covers!

Yamaha Vstar and Kawasaki Vulcan

With the blues fest behind us and the bikes cleaned up once more, we were riding some back roads again and heading for Yarram. It was a hot day and when we were selecting our camp site, we overlooked all the parameters which make a good site and went for 100% shade. A little thought to M for Mossies as they were out 24 hours a day and E for Elevation, because it started to rain and we were nearly afloat again, would have been well worth while.

We didn't let a little rain stop us from riding out to the Grand Ridge Brewery at Mirboo North via Port Albert and Port Welshpool and then home again on the C483 through the Tarra Bulga NP. That C483 is an amazing road, wouldn't call it a great bike road because it's only one lane wide for most of it, but the scenery was awesome - straight out of Jurassic Park.

The weather started to close in again - gales and rain forecast for 3 days, so on 22nd February we took the opportunity to escape from Yarram. We are now in Cowes on Phillip Island for the World Super Bikes race meet. It has been blowing a full gale for the last 48 hours but the tent is holding its own against the wind. Last night we found a great Chinese restaurant and while we listened to the nimble click - clack of the chop sticks and they smiled at the clumsy clonk of our fork and spoon, we knew for certain, that no sooner we are home, we will long for a night in our humble tent, with the two bikes parked outside - even if it's raining.

Bright to Tathra

If Bright got its name because of the Bright and cheerful place that it is then it is well deserved. Warm balmy days and cool nights - get rid of the mossies and it would be perfect! We arrived at the start of the Australia Day long weekend. We left the bikes alone until the weekend was over as the population in Bright swells from 3,000 to 30,000 during holiday time and the roads are chaotic. Then we settled in to ride those mountain roads, Mt Buffalo, Falls Creek, Mt Hotham, even the valley run to Yackandanda, Beechworth and home again to Bright was fun too. There seems nothing more enjoyable than riding into the main street of an historic town, which we have never seen before and may never see again, parking up and walking up and down the main street, first one side and then the other - if only those walls could speak.

On my Yamaha Vstar 650 along the Alpine Way

Quite often, while we are having breakfast, we will muse over the days ride, with The Bears book in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. Steve commented "apparently we need to watch out for cow pats on the Red Bank Road," to which I replied, without thinking, "s***, yes." We couldn't stay in Bright for ever and with our riding destinations complete we packed up our tent once more and headed east. A little rain on the hills around us but we stayed dry as we crossed the Snowies, through Thredbo to out next camp at Jindabyne. The road through the Snowies didn't seem quite as tight as some of The Alpine roads in Victoria and on the cruisers we had great fun.

before the rain

And then it started to rain. Just a thunderstorm at first, then just steady consistent rain. Never stopping long enough to do the most menial of tasks - even a trip to the toilet required the rain jackets. 24 hours later and the tap still hadn't been turned off. We questioned many a local about the weather and they just said "we've had a lot of rain this year." When I posed the question at the information centre "when do you think we will get a suitable day to climb Mt Kosiosko?" the lady just smiled and said "next week" - it was only Monday! No riding out of Jindabyne for us - next time around.

So we packed up a very wet tent on Tuesday 5th February, even though the weather bureau reported a low pressure system off the central NSW coast which could dump anything between 50 - 200mm, and rode out of town - destination Canberra. We stayed dry all the way to the McDonalds car park at Cooma and as soon as the horse had been fed and watered on a bacon and egg McMuffin meal deal, we were back on the road again - grey skies all around. And then the rain came - no wind, just drenching rain and a little hail for good measure. But we rode on. The road between Cooma and Canberra isn't that dangerous and quite honestly it didn't seem that bad. We took it easy, made it safely and got very, very wet. My boots literally filled with water and the rain found its way into places it had never found its way into before. I was so wet when we arrived in Canberra that I created a pool of water in the reception at the caravan park!

The War Memorial - Canberra

Not to worry, the air conditioner in our little cabin provided a great airing cupboard for jackets, bags, boots and tent and an afternoon in the laundromat solved the wet clothes problem. By the time we had a good nights sleep and a new day had begun we were ready to enjoy the Capital.

Parliament House and The War Memorial were the only things we could find the concentration for. Many people had said to us that The War Memorial is a must see and even with eager anticipation we weren't disappointed. But two days was enough of city life for us. We are now at the seaside town of Tathra. Some good roads to ride in this neck of the woods so we could be here a while!

Lunch break at Batemans Bay

Nullarbor to Bright

Eyre Peninsular

Up and away well before sunrise on the 1st January and we were in Ceduna by mid morning - the extreme heat behind us and the Eyre Peninsular (EP) waiting for us to enjoy. We did a one-nighter at Streaky Bay, in a motel, because the birds were pooping all over the tents in the caravan park. Unfortunately my speedo cable had come loose just after leaving Ceduna. With my ear plugs ensuring that I could "hear no evil", I didn't realise the cable was dragging on the ground. By the time we reached Streaky Bay the road had done a great job grinding down the cable until there was nothing left. The Yamaha spares department were closed until 7th January - ouch! That's what you get for travelling during the Christmas New Year break. Still there are worse places you can be holed up that EP. The scenery is splendid and if you enjoy good and cheap seafood and can cope with the occasional south easterly gale then you will be smiling all the while you are waiting for your spare parts to arrive!

Salty ferry crossing!

After much to-do, the new cable arrived and was fitted on Friday 11th January. On the 12th, we rode to Cowell but were not in time for the last ferry to Wallaroo and had to endure yet more seafood at the local pub - a 500g chunk of snapper covered in prawns this time. Such is life! 

The gravel road to Lucky Bay was just tolerable on our bikes, the surface well churned up on the bends and if you've got milk in the eski, expect sour cream by the time you've covered the 12kms to Lucky Bay. Just one word of advice, go straight to the ferry terminal, don't be tempted to check out the beach shacks, because you could find yourself bogged and some large dogs coming to see what all the fuss is about!

Unfortunately they had overbooked the ferry and to create a little more room, they stuck our bikes in the stern, Steve's on the port side and mine on the starboard. They were safely tied down, but copped a little salt spray on the crossing. When we returned to the bikes to disembark I said to the guy "look at all this salt on my bike" to which he replied "that's the thing about salt water, it does tend to be salty!" Would we catch the ferry again? No.

 

As soon as we were off the ferry we just started riding - the Barossa still some two hours away. We picked Tanunda as our home base and how sweet it is to ride those roads, eat great food and drink great wine. 

Timing is everything and we couldn't resist the temptation to take in a couple of stages of the Tour Down Under which was due to start on Sunday 20th January. But alas, if harbours rot good boats, then caravan parks rot good bikes and it sure felt time to do some serious miles. So we packed up camp and just started riding. Taking all the back roads, we headed south through the Coorong, then east. Just one great road after another, through the Grampians and on and on and on, stopping along the way for a cup of tea or a snack and resting our heads in a Budget Motel each night. On Saturday 25th, we stopped in some shade at the little town of Boonie Doon (no kidding), we made tea and were soon sharing our tree with a lone rider on a naked Ducatti. We chatted about roads near and far and Steve even popped the question "what size is yours?" I nearly said "now that's a leading question in front of a lady," instead I wandered off, with a smile on my face, looking for somewhere to deposit the spent tea bags!

High country riding

Around lunch time, we stopped for fuel at a very ordinary looking garage in the small town of Whitfield. However inside was a delightful bakery and coffee shop, serving the most delicious baguettes and pies and cakes imaginable. We were asked to do the honour of being the first customer to road test the new beef and red wine pie. Of course we accepted and gave it the thumbs up. Real chunks of organic beef with a gravy like my mum makes. We couldn't resist a mug of great coffee and a cream brulee tart with fresh blackberries. We nearly set up camp right then and there, but less is more and we were soon back on the road with all the energy and power that pies and cakes can provide. Steve says he is going to get a T Shirt which reads "Powered by Pies." Next time you are passing through Whitfield, stop for a while at the Fuel Micro Bakery - you won't be disappointed.

After riding for three days, we have set up camp here in Bright, where we hope to stay out of trouble and do some of the roads in the Alpine region. So that's about it from us. Soon it will be happy hour and we will be allowed a few beers and hot cashews, heated naturally while the afternoon sun beats down on our little tent. It all tastes pretty good and right now there is no place we would rather be.

Esperance to Nullarbor

New Years Eve - breakfast at Madura Pass

Our ride east really began when we pulled out of the Esperance Motor Hotel at 7am on Sunday 30th December. We thought we had found the two day break in the heat wave to make it to Nullarbor Road House. Wrong! 10kms after turning right at Norseman it was over 35deg. By noon we were eating our packed lunch in the shade at Balladonia. It was now 40deg. We took refuge in the friendly cafe for a while. It was still only 40deg when we were ready to leave so we were back on the road to Caiguna, with the promise of a good feed, as when we passed this way early in 2007 it was full of road trains. We were glad to take a motel room, peel off our draggin jeans, and sink a couple of coldies. It was still 43deg at 6pm. It certainly doesn't start cooling down until the sun dips below the horizon.

Up and away at 6am on New Years Eve, determined to catch an hour on the sun. We rode in pleasant conditions all the way to Madura where the temperature was only 29deg at 8:30am. Then it got hot again. Within half an hour of leaving Madura we were riding in unpleasant conditions. It was with some relief when we were holed up in the air conditioned cafe at Border Village, eating lunch and talking to a fellow biker, who was also hiding from the heat, and the police! He was travelling in company with a German tourist on another bike. They got separated going in and out of the lookouts over the Great Aussie Bight and his mate had returned to Nullarbor Road House and called the cops thinking he was lost for dead. Now there is the reason for corner markers!

Last sunset of 2007

I was worried about leaving Border Village - Nullarbor two hours away and too far without stopping for water. Then while I was idly gazing out of the window I noticed the windmill that had been facing NE, stop, and swing to the SW. A change had come through. We rushed outside and sure enough the temperature had dropped at least 5deg. From our experience, these weather changes tend to be moving at 40 - 60kms per hour. So we thought, if we stayed another hour, we wouldn't catch up with the "front" for a good part of the way to Nullarbor. Wrong! 40kms down the road we were breathing hot air into our lungs again. 80kms from Border Village Steve found a lay-by with a little shelter, just big enough for our bikes. We drank another gallon, and with my T-shirt dripping wet once more, we saddled up and were back on the road - Nullarbor still one hour away. I had ditched my draggin jeans at Border Village in favour of a pair of light cotton pants. It is all a calculated risk. There seemed much more chance of expiring from heat exhaustion than having a motorcycle accident. 

It took every ounce of concentration to keep the bikes on the road. Just when we thought it couldn't get any hotter, the guy standing next to the thermostat cranked it up a couple more notches. WOW. The only way out is to keep going. No point stopping. No trees - not even one! Heaven help anyone who breaks down when the weather is like this. One by one the kilometres ticked by. When we pulled into Nullarbor Road House I nearly hopped over the counter and kissed the guy taking vast amounts of money for fuel and lodgings. We were very grateful to arrive. It was 5pm, the temperature 47deg. Out on the road it was at least 50.

There was something magic about watching the sunset on the last day in 2007 at Nullarbor. One of the most beautiful sunsets we have ever seen. The sky so red and the plain stretching as far as the eye could see. All was forgiven, but not forgotten. We had survived the ride.

Goodbye 2007, Hello 2008

Heading Home

Advanced bike to bike communication system

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.