It’d been raining every day for god knows how long so I was overjoyed to see bright sunlight streaming in through the window as I woke up to a fine Sunday morning. Dean, my Dad and I made it to Eastern Creek raceway around 7:45AM. Though initially reluctant, I’d convinced my Dad to come along to witness a race track for the first time in his life with the assurance that if he didn’t enjoy it, there’s plenty of place to put your feet up and read the paper. I’m happy to report that he was so engaged with the action on track and in the pits that he forgot all about the outside world, though he did manage to snooze off at one stage with Mario warming up his bike in the background :rolleyes:. Thanks to Dean, SR had a double garage all to themselves and when the dust settled, there was 

JC (Dino) – Red group, R6 track bike
Dean – Green group, SuperDuke track bike
Mario – Yellow group, R6 track bike
HarryD – Yellow group, K1200R road bike
Sash (Dean’s mate) – Yellow group, KTM 690SM track bike
Con (Dean’s mate) – Yellow group, K1300R road bike
Pizza – First track day , White group, SV650 LAMS 

At 9AM, there was a loud roar in the garage as Dean’s beast, the SuperDuke, fired up with its trademark, glorious v-twin beat and Dean roared away to sample the new North circuit. Everyone in the garage was eagerly awaiting Dean’s return to quiz him on the new circuit. Soon enough Dean roared back in and you could make out that he’d had a ball. There’s an energy about Dean when he’s on the track, it’s electric and it’s infectious. His whole body gets animated, his grin gets wider and his jokes get funnier . Next out was JC in the fastest group (Red) and I took Dad to the roof to check out the action. It was funny watching his reaction as the first speed demon came screaming down the straight and then the next and the next. He had never seen anything like this in his life and he was speechless! It reminded me of the first time I came out to see a race out here, I’d been speechless for about 15minutes too!

Meanwhile, downstairs in the pits, Pizza had been scurrying around trying to organise a new rear tyre as his had gone flat just this morning. Out of the gloom stepped in Gene and suggested the unthinkable “You can have mine”. Pizza, who’s refused to look at a Hyosung his whole life, now keenly checked out the rear wheel on Gene’s 650 and sure enough, it was in good shape and the right size. But the moral question remained, would he taint the purity of his first track day experience with a part borrowed off a Hyoskunk? After a long think, with all other options exhausted and the prospect of missing out on a significant chunk of track time looming large, Pizza accepted Gene’s generous offer with a sigh and went out for his first ever lap around a race track. Everyone knows Pizza’s a good rider, much too good to be restricted by his Ps. We were all excited for his first outing on track and keen to see how he went, though there was never any doubt that he’d take to it like a fish in water or like Dean put it the other day, like a finger in a bum . He went pretty well on that first run but he was only warming up for the real assault later on.

Anyway, I was on next and the heart was pumping at a million beats per minute with the excitement, anticipation & fear all rolled into one. I went out in the middle of the pack and rode gingerly, feeling out the beemer and the track. Plenty of people passed me, some ducking in the inside and I was even passed by 600s on the straight . I came back in quite neutral, none of the euphoria I’d felt after my first track session but neither was I particularly worried. The beemer was hard to turn in the tight stuff, as expected, but was solid once on its side. The brakes pulled up nicely and I felt like the foundation for the day had been laid. In the next session, Mario lead me out and showed me some lines. I was getting more comfortable and following Mario’s smoother lines, I was getting more drive out of corners. I was going faster, leaning it over a bit more and fewer people passed me while I passed a couple of people as well. By the third session, it started coming together. I was getting the hang of the big beemer, throwing it on its side, scraping the peg or the boot and then picking it up nicely to get the required drive out of corners. I was picking people off who had been overtaking me previously and that was pretty satisfying ! My favourite place for overtaking was between Turn 5 & 10 but I was also getting good drive out of 12 and passing people on the straight. In the fourth session, Dean very generously allowed me a ride on his SuperDuke. I’d been lusting after the SuperDuke ever since a test ride it last year and was really pumped to give it a go on the track. Coming off the lumbering beemer, the SD is so easy to flick side to side that I almost fell off it in pit lane! Out of the starting block, I was taking it nice and easy but the whole thing was shaking like an epileptic tiger! Braking for turn 2, surprisingly there wasn’t much dive, which Dean attributed to the forks being setup for a 100kg body rather than a 75kg one :. It was so easy to lay on its side in turn 2, which is the hardest turn for me on the beemer. But as I went round and round, I realized its limitations as well. The power band was narrow and I was hitting the rev limiter constantly, which violently slowed down the bike. It took me some time to figure out which gear I was in and at one point, coming into turn 12, I managed to hit neutral and coasted into the turn under no power . Must’ve confused the fuck out of the guys behind me! The bike is an absolute blast because of its handling but I think it would take me a while to get used to it.

Pizza, in the meantime, was absolutely destroying the field in White group. The fuckers didn’t know what hit ‘em . Pizza hounded them in the corners, cutting up the inside, taking them on the outside, gunning it out of the corners. Of course, it all turned to shit on the straight as the boys on the big bikes screamed past, leaving him frustrated. Poor Pete! On the last session, he hit the front and had an open track for 4 laps before someone caught up to him, and he had the biggest grin I’ve ever seen on him after that! You did awesome Pete, it was great to see you out there . After the 3rd session Mario had tired of hooning around and running rings around the folks in yellow group and sensibly upgraded to Green. We witnessed some awesome moments with Dean leading and Mario hanging onto his back wheel as they cut through the field, while practicing Dean's Fuck'em method of riding. 

For the 5th session, I was back on the beemer and revving to go. I was 6th or 7th in the line to get out and went balls out from the word go this time, braking hard for turn 2. What the beemer lacks in agility, it makes up for in stability under braking and ball crushing power exiting corners. I went out wide to the left for turn 3 and then cut back to the right to setup for turn 4, just like Mario had showed me. Hard on the gas exiting 3, the front wheel gets air before I start setting up for turn 4, which had frustrated me all day. But this session, I got it right a couple of times, hard on the brakes going downhill, the beemer stable as a rock, I cut the apex on the left hander and setup for a fast, wide exit out of turn 5. With the beemer’s wide spread of torque, I’m able to maintain 3rd gear between exiting turn 5 and slowing down for turn 10 so there’s no chance for the guy behind me to make a move. I nail turn 12, taking a wide entry and gradually easing the giant back to vertical as I use all of the track entering the straight. Crouching under the meagre screen, I upshift to 3rd, 4th, 5th everything’s a blur, from the corner of my eye I spy the speedo at 230 as I’m still accelerating past the 300M mark. I sit up at 200M and dab the front brake gently while downshifting to 4th around 200M, shift my body weight left before hooking into the mega fun Turn 1. Hold the line trying not to look into the grass where a guy is pushing his red sportsbike to the wall. Turn 1 is fukking EPIC Fun if you carry decent speed through it! 
We still had 1 session to go but it had been a hot, tiring day and we were all ready to pack it in so our garage cleared out pretty quickly and we said our goodbyes knowing we’d all had a pretty special day.

That last session was just incredible for me and I was amazed at the beemer’s poise under some hard riding. Throughout the day, it didn’t miss a beat, no wobbles under braking, no front end pushing over bumps while leaned over, no “moments” anywhere really and it gave me limitless power and pull whenever I asked of it. Fuck, I gave it my all in that last session but couldn’t induce the slightest bit of temperamental handling. I came to the track to find out what the big lumbering beemer could do and its satisfying to know that it can do a lot more than I can .

The world was already flooded with light from a hot sun as I made my way to the Shell at Moore Park, it was 7AM. We rolled into a relatively empty Berowra and collected the motley bunch together. When the dust settled, we were (Hope i didnt miss anyone  ) – 

HarryD – BMW K1200R
ConRod - Yamaha Zeal250
Pizza - SV650
Dan – Blackbird
Tony (Dan’s mate) – VTR1000
Andy - Diavel
George – Daytona 675R
Mario – R1
Chief – CBR250R
Blaze – Street Triple
Gabriel – VFR800
Luke – Ninja 1000
Mick – GS650F
Seen006 – CBR250RR
Blackster – ZX-6R
Browny – Blackbird
Wayne – Blackbird
Pete – Z1000

And we set off down the OldPac. I lead the biker snake at a relaxed pace, enjoying the twisties and the lack of traffic. After Mooney Mooney, the ConRod hit the front and revelled in the honour of leading the pack. It was a steady, comfortable pace and before long, we piled into Jerry’s at Kulnura for much needed coffee and b’fast. Browny joined us here, which was worrying in itself but even more worrying was the presence of 2 HWP cars. After enjoying a leisurely bfast with plenty of  we took off to ensure we stayed ahead of the popo and not behind. I followed Luke & Andy out of Jerry’s and we quickly made time and caught up with the lead pack, buzzing unsuspecting Mick, Chief and Pete in the process  . I was really enjoying the brisk pace of Luke and Andy when suddenly something hit my left hand and I noticed my newly installed bar-end mirror hanging limply and about to fall off. I hit the anchors and pulled over to adjust it but it was only the start of my mirror woes for this trip . I only had 1 bar-end mirror on the bike and I knew it wasn’t the best placement but I wasn’t expecting it to come apart so early. Anyway, I carried on, we re-grouped at Wollombi and after crossing the dirt section, I’d just started revving it on the long sweepers when the fucking mirror came off again. This time I just took the fucker off and stuffed it under the seat and went mirror-less, racer style! Anyway, I didn’t let the lack of mirrors deter me from enjoying the fantastic sweepers coming into Broke. I love that section of road. The surface is smooth and grippy, the corners are wide and sweeping and visibility is endless so you can actually see round the corner which allows you to take much wider (and faster )) entries into corners. I caught up with the group just as the last folks pulled into Broke where there was already animated discussion in progess about how fukn cool the sweepers were!

We re-fuelled and set off for the 10mile. I had already declared to everyone that I was mirror-less so any punters looking to overtake me should be careful as I won’t be expecting them. That must’ve scared the cool kids as no-one overtook me on the whole 10mile, I should use that trick more often to stay in front . Andy was leading into the 10mile, followed by Wayne and then me. I don’t know who or how many were behind me as I cudn’t see! Andy was setting a cracking pace, moving around the bike to compensate for the limited lean angle (compared to a sportsbike). No matter how many times I’ve follow Andy on the Diavel, it’s always a bit weird to see him moving around so much on the bike coz it’s not the kind of bike you’d see people hanging off of. Talking of hanging, I was just about hanging onto the end of Wayne and was enjoying it immensely. The riding was fast and furious for me and involved lots of hard braking, peg scraping and gunning it out of corners. This is not usually the kind of riding I enjoy, preferring not to hang off too much and concentrate on being smooth through corners but this was bloody awesome fun right now and I decided I could leave smoothness for another time. Wayne, meanwhile, looked smooth as silk and was all over Andy’s back wheel when Andy wisely kicked him through and then Mr Confused left us dazed and confused in his wake as he made the big bird appear like a lightweight supersports, his knees sticking way out in the wind occasionally dragging along the tarmac, the trademark Ventura sail-bag bouncing along merrily. We were well and truly Houdinied by the soft-spoken and hard-riding Central coaster. We caught up with him again a few kays down the road when he’d backed off. Later he said to us “I went up ahead and then said to myself, I came to ride with the group so what the fuk am I doing out ahead on my own, I could do that any other weekend”. Glad you backed off mate, it’s always good to ride with you . We reached the turn-around point and slowly the rest of the pack roared into sight – Luke, Mario, Pizza…..Gabriel, Conrod…Dan, Browny, Tony…..they kept coming and coming…and I though Fuck, how many of us are there?! Finally Blackster & Sean brought up the rear with Sean’s loud 250 downshifting so many times while slowing down that Andy remarked “How many gears does that bloody bike have?!”. We were quite a sight with 18 awesome bikes parked neatly in a line on Putty Road .

We set off back up Putty Road, one of the best things about the 10mile turn around ride is that you get to do the 10mile twice . The return trip was different, a lot less hectic,I was riding alone and there wasn’t a single vehicle along the whole stretch to spoil my ride. Wayne buzzed me going round an open right hander, which I wasn’t expecting at all, having no mirrors and all but it wasn’t scary and I continued along my merry way. I eventually caught up to Gabriel and he was puttering along at a decent pace so I stayed put behind to observe his rear end . He certainly seemed very comfortable and sounds like the suspension work is paying off in enhanced confidence in his riding. Pizza and Mario swapped bikes as we truned off Putty Road towards Broke and Pizza buzzed Luke at an unmentionable speed  and Luke took off in hot pursuit, probably thinking that some thief was running away with Mario’s bike. I followed Luke into Broke and it was great watching him stretching (not parting thankfully) Ivy’s legs.

It was stinking hot by now and leathers came off in a hurry as we all huddled under the shade of the giant tree at Broke Service station. We spent an enjoyable and leisurely hour at lunch and while the softies took refuge in the comfort the air-conditioned bistro, the real hard men of the north spread out under the tree in various poses of leisure and exhaustion. The second lap of 10mile was quickly cancelled and we set off back to base with visions of home and ice cold beer. I set off in the middle of the pack but found myself leading by the time we entered the tight stuff before Wollombi and firkin hell I enjoyed that section . The road is narrow, hemmed in by lush green vegetation and twists and turns around corners that are blind as bats. It’s also bumpy and has leafs and vegetation strewn across it at times. Really challenging and heaps of fun when it comes together. Halfway through, as I came round a left hander, I saw a black R1 parked on the opposite side of the road, which looked like it had taken a serious tumble. My heart skipped a beat as I thought, Oh Fuck, Mario! But thankfully it was some other bloke’s turn today and I carried on. Browny was somewhere behind me and as I didn’t have mirrors I don’t know if I was holding him up or losing him in the distance but I think he enjoyed that section as much as I did. Wayne walked upto me as we pulled up at the lights for the dirt section and said his goodbye, he was taking off back to Newcastle.

I brought up the rear leaving Wollombi and followed Sean for a bit. He seemed to be going well, taking corners nicely and generally not doing anything stupid so I carried on and hung behind Blackster for a bit who looked pretty dashing on the sexy ZX-6R. They do look like a neat package, Blackster and the feisty Ninja and I hope we see them both on many more SR rides . Some of us peeled off the highway while the rest of us regrouped at Road Warriors on the oldpac. Stories of the day were thrown around and we cooled down with drinks while letting the sweat evaporate off our bodies. At one point, a loud bike-scream pierced the air and we saw a guy pass by pulling a massive mono on his sportsbike all the way. We also saw 3 cop cars and 2 cop bikes in the 20mins we were there so we took it pretty easy on our way out, not that the oldpac is a place for shenanigans anyway . It was a long, hot and tiring slog through traffic to get home but it was so fucken worth it!!

Once upon a time, in a land far far away lived a princess. Fair of hair, pleasant of manner and adventurous of spirit, she was the darling of her adoring subjects. Princess Kath of Nerriga, they called her lovingly. 
She rode a German thoroughbred far and wide and never a worry did her loyal steed provide. 
Until one fine day when out on a ride, her companion coughed up blood and lay down on its side.
His blood was blue and temperature was high, Princess Kath of Nerriga was left high and dry! 
She was stranded among ruffians of giant proportion, who rode shiny black dragons that made much commotion.
She felt like a sailor in a boat of feathers, when out of the gloom emerged her knight in shining leathers.
He rode an Italian stallion a thing of beauty, saving damsels in distress he considered his duty.
As the ruffians beheld him they turned to putty, for he was the mighty Prince Diavel of Ducaty.
He scooped up the princess and on the pillion her set, and they galloped off together into the sunset.

OK now that the kids are asleep, let’s get into some serious stuff shall we.

Sylvannia Maccas at 8:15AM was buzzing with activity and noise as a large bunch of unruly bikers congregated. The response to the ride astounded me especially I’d just given 3 days notice. There were 14 of us who set off on a perfect Sydney winter morning with the skies blue, the air crisp and bikes of all shapes and sizes filling the horizon. The protagonists were
1. HarryD
2. Andyavel
3. Kath1000RR
4. Pizza - Suspension
5. VFRJeff – Need for Speed
6. Ibishu
7. Joel
8. Chief (Special appearance)
9. ConRod (the crazy IrishMan)
10. Blazin 13laze (the quiet Australian)
11. Conan the DRbarian
12. Daewoo + Jenny – who did an excellent job of being Tail End Charlies, Thanks guys, you made my job easy!
13. Master Dean

Dan, his gentlemanly Uncle of impeccable taste and his lovely daughter were there to see us off and their final words of advice to me were simple “Don’t fall off mate”. Hmm I wonder why they said that  

I love the Old Princess Hwy, it’s such a relaxing ride with its smooth sweepers and zero traffic. Wakes you up gently, setting the mood. Unless, of course, your name is Dan and you ride a blackbird, in which case the Old Princes is attacked with savage ferocity as if old scores need to be settled on that stretch of road. But thankfully, today Dan was missing and we had a leisurely stroll down till hitting the freeway. I haven’t done the Mt Kiera road too many times but everytime I do it, I really enjoy it. I think a large factor is the complete lack of traffic. The surface is not the best and it’s got wet corners on the driest of days but taken carefully, this is an awesome stretch of road which is find challenging and very satisfying. The Chief, meanwhile, had peeled off and gone straight down the freeway to Wollongong and was going to make his own way back home.

Filled up at Dapto, the 7-11 is still closed off so we assembled at the Shell instead and continued onto the SR backroad to MacPass. It’s amazing how much difference the suspension makes on this rough road. For those who don’t know, the beemer has ESA (Electronic Suspension Adjustment) which means that at the press of a button, I can change my rear suspension setting for both damping and rebound  . There are 12 different combinations I can use and I distracted myself playing with these on the “goat track”, as christened by Jeff. On the R1, I’d be bouncing along with my bum occasionally touching the seat but on the beemer, I just flick it to comfort and cruise happily along like a geriatric on his motor wheelchair, dribbling contentedly under my helmet.

I was leading into MacPass and had a pleasant run with Conan following me on the DR. He had his camera on and shot this cool video of me climbing up the pass.

It was a beautiful run down the twisties into K Valley. I was somewhere in the middle of the pack and enjoying it. I watched breathlessly as ConRod, “the mad Irishman” as dubbed by Jeff, was doing a Pizza and flogging the fuck out of his 250 and keeping up with Dean & Andy’s comfortable pace. Great to see ConRod enjoying his bike so much, I believe he’s come a long way in skill and confidence. Keep it up mate! The view of Kangaroo Valley on the road down was spectacular with the valley smothered under milky white clouds and the bright sun spotlighting the green mountains above it. Jeff found it irresistible and decided to take a picture. Kath must’ve been doing the whole run in first gear, probably to reach that elusive “power band” on the beemer, coz she was the only one who needed fuel. After another 5min stop, we marched onwards through to Cambewarra mountain and its gorgeous twisties. The stretch down from the mountain to Nowra is especially fun as the surface is silky smooth and the road is tight and twisty. I think I’m getting the hang of the K12R now and am not scared of throwing the lumbering giant into the tight stuff. The first few rides immediately after the R1 really made the long wheelbase and extra weight stand out but on this ride I didn’t feel it that much. 
We were getting hungry at Nowra and had a 15min stop for fuel and . We decided to continue on to Nerriga for lunch as it was only another 60Kays or so. 

Nerriga Road 

We departed from the Nowra fuel station at the same time as a large group of Harleys and realized they were heading to Nerriga as well. Probably 15 of them and there was about 15 of us so after turning onto Braidwood road, it was GAME ON! And what a fukn game it was! Nerriga Road is Litre Bike heaven! But anything smaller than a litre bike and you’ll feel like a drunk horny bastard at a Kings Cross brothel. The desire is overpowering but the performance will leave something to be desired. Anyway, I went first and overtook all the Harleys fairly quickly. Andy came in behind me and went past. Next thing I know, there’s a loud roar and 3 harleys rumble past me on one of the straights. I thought, Jeez despite the American economy in the doldrums, these Harley shares are ticking over nicely towards the 2 $ mark. Then started a great game of cat and mouse between the 3 harleys and myself and Andy. We’d go past them exiting hard out of the corners and then they’d come rumbling past in the straights. I wasn’t too keen on snapping my neck off on the straights so I was happy just to take them on the corners. And then we played our wildcard, they didn’t know what hit them. Dean came screaming past and took all 3 in his stride in a matter of seconds. One of them took off in pursuit, he looked like the ringleader. We lost sight of them two and I concentrated on the remaining 2 harleys and with Andy ahead of me, we made quick work of them but it was massive fun dicing with them at the speeds we were all doing. Now I’d like to say they were straight line heroes but to be honest they did pretty well keeping up with us despite the limitations of their machines. Good on them! Now Nerriga Road is all sweepers, fast, faster and fastest but there a couple of places where it tightens up suddenly and 1 such place caught me & Any off guard. I was happily folloing Andy as we came to an uphill 80K right hander. I followed Andy’s line and realized he’s running wide…wide….wideee…OH FUCK, we’re in the gravel. Stop looking at that fat Diavel tyre Harry or u’ll be connecting with it very soon. I had to back right off the throttle and gently dab the back brake at considerable lean and then force myself to look into the corner. Thankfully Andy had recovered by now and was gunning it out of the corner and we negotiated the corner safely. Speaking to Andy later, he said, “I was changing to Sport mode when the corner came up”! Fuckin Hell, what’s next, watching a UTube video on the move? They need to take the screen away from that machine I reckon! Anyway, we soon caught up with Dean and the Harley leader as they both had backed off considerably with Dean having left the poor guy for dead in their matchup. Having had his fun, the preacher backed off to let us catch up and led us into Nerriga triumphantly. 

Just before we rolled into Nerriga, Kath caught up with us and a quick thumbs up showed that she had had as much fun as the rest of us on the beautiful piece of road. Unfortunately, as soon as the poor girl stopped in front of Nerriga Hotel, her prized steed started smoking heavily and looked like it was going to explode. A rock had made some damage to the radiator, which had pissed itself all over the engine. Anyway, that Beemer wasn’t going anywhere so poor girl’s ride was cut short but she was sporting as ever, the smile never leaving her face even at the most stressful of times.
Now I hadn’t believed Daewoo when he had told me that “Nerriga is JUST the pub”. What dyu mean its just the pub, where there is a pub, there has to be a town or least a village, or at least a post office? But fukn hell he was right. Nerriga is JUST the pub! Its bloody remote as and you feel like you’ve missed a turnoff somewhere and arrived into the wild west. But the pub is warm and cozy and does better food than it has any right to produce in that location. Good on them!

The ride back retraced our steps EXACTLY. Now usually we try to do a loop so we take a different route back but the route in was so fantastic I reckoned why change a winning combination. So up we went over Cambewarra mountain, into KV, up the mountain and into Robertson before doing a final coffee at the Robbo pie shop where we said our goodbyes.
I followed Dean down MacPass and noticed ConRod in my mirrors. We sailed down in smooth, unhurried fashion and it was a dream, traffic-free run all the way to the bottom. Blissful! Follow Dean through the twisties is very enjoyable as he makes it look so easy!

All up, it really was an awesome day out. Perfect weather, an awesome group to ride with, great roads, some old, some new. I’m sure we all discovered something new, about our bikes, about ourselves…and we all made it home safe and sound. Mega WIN!

It was a misty start to the day as I rolled into Moore Park to be greeted by Andy, Kath & Mario. Young R1 was nowhere to be seen and after delaying our departure by 15 minutes waiting in vain for him, we made tracks to meet the westys at McGraths Hill. The westys, being used to waking up early living so far from the action, were packed and fuelled up like well behaved school kids should be, so to reward them, they were waved on down the putty as the rest of us fuelled up. The fog got thicker as we climbed to Colo heights but as soon as we crested the ridge, the mist dispersed and the sun lighted our world. The sun seemed to have inspired the SR crew as almost immediately Dejan, Mario, Andy & Kath shot past me like bullets from a gun and I was left high and dry, unable to keep up. Puttering along on my own, I settled into a nice rhythm and enjoyed the stillness of the morning. It was funny being the last one to pull into a stop as I haven’t had that privilege for a while, we need more P-platers on my rides! The grey-gum café is in a nice spot and does wonderful breakfasts and the staff seem a friendly bunch so I would definitely recommend it for a putty road pitstop. Dejan seemed to think that today was the day that the food reserves of the world would run out so not taking any chance, he ate up for the whole day. 
Me and Andy arrived at the eagerly awaited 10mile last after a bike swap and found Kimmie stuck behind a ute. Not sure why Andy never overtook Kimmie and the ute but I wanted to pop the cherry on my new camera and wanted a bike in front of me so I stuck around behind Andy and this is what we did -
NOTE - With all videos, make sure you turn the setting to 1080p and let it buffer for a while before viewing, you'll enjoy it more that way


Confusion at Bulga – Mr. Confused was waiting for us on his gleaming blackbird piled with luggage. A tall and well built fellow with home-made goggles and an earnest expression, he gave off a positive vibe which is always welcome when you’re riding with someone new. He’s pretty quick too and not averse to throwing the big bird into corners with gusto. As we gained a member, we lost one as Conan decided to turn back from Bulga.
The Golden Highway to Sandy Hollow is made of beautiful surface snaking along in looping sweepers through a verdant valley hemmed in by green hills. It is gorgeous countryside and the scenic beauty is almost a match for the quality of the surface, almost!


At Sandy Hollow, we meet Andy’s mate, David, who’s got a beautiful black diavel which he rides like the devil himself! Dejan sets off followed by the 2 diavels setting the pace on the Bylong Valley Way, which we’ve come to see from so far away. The scenery is spectacular and I’m happy to sit mid-pack behind Karl, to take it all in. Rugged cliffs appear with lazy streams flowing at their base, open green meadows host elegant horses cantering about and amongst it all, a thin sliver of black snakes its way through, carrying an eager flock of 2 wheeled pilgrims. I stop to setup my camera and find Karl and Wayne stopped up ahead, about to turn around to check up on me. It’s comforting to know you’re riding with people who care and will look after you. I give them a hotham salute in return for their concern and buzz past. Next it’s my turn to be buzzed as Wayne thunders past and shows me a thing or two about riding backroads. It was quite a sight to see him attack bumpy corners at insane speeds, completely unconcerned as his luggage rack bounced around behind him.
Dejan’s grief – I was enjoying the sweeping road till I came around 1 particular right hander and saw a few bikes parked on the side. 


I recognized them as our group and panic gripped me as I thought “Fuck, someone’s come off”. I was relieved to find it was only a mechanical issue. A rock had shattered Dejan’s radiator and his dreams of blitzing Nerriga Road. He was covered in the green stuff and was sulking like the hulk! Anyway, we sorted out his towing arrangements and Mario went about hiding and camouflaging the bike with some strategically placed branches which would’ve confused even the most wily bike thief. Just to be doubly sure, I marked the territory around the bike with special radioactive fluid, the very whiff of which would render insane humans and animals alike. The bike taken care of, we worked out the logistics of getting Dejan to Rylstone, where he would wait for his lift to arrive from Sydney. After much toing and froing (not of the bad kind, that came later) we decided that the most “desirable” arrangement was for Dejan to ride Pete’s SV, Mario to pillion coz he was dying to be a bitch and for Pizza to ride Mario’s R1. Everyone was happy, coz they got to ride something they enjoyed. Dejan was happy to be riding at all, Pizza was riding one of the fastest bikes in the known universe (a highly “cultured” R1) and Mario was riding Dejan  and I was just pissing myself witnessing (and recording) this procession. While Mario was loving every moment of it, Dejan soon realized it was not a happy situation for him and he avoided braking completely, to keep his dignity. I must say that the suspension on Pete’s SV is pretty rugged, not many bikes could’ve stood up to the “rocking” the poor machine received in that 30 odd minutes.


A lesson in Culture - We had a fantastic lunch at the Rylstone hotel and we were just sitting around shooting the talk when a loud roar was heard behind us. Karl’s gave us a sheepish smile and a master class in professional burping. The second one was so thunderous, the local seismograph recorded a class 5 tremor  . It was then that Jeff took centrestage and proceeded to give us a lecture on culture and its many manifestations. That lecture helped sustain us through the rest of the trip, Jeff you have no idea how popular your thesis on culture has become! It was time to say goodbye to Dejan who had been such a great companion thus far. The parting must’ve been especially hard on Mario as I spied a tear in his eye just before he put his woggy aviators on. It was obvious they had bonded in a special way on that ride into town.
David’s local knowledge came in handy as he lead us out of Rylstone on a scenic back road that I enjoyed very much. David’s a pretty quick rider and he set a pace that helped keep the sphincter tightly clenched, which was well enough as the pressure on the little chap was immense from the humungous lunch.


Said goodbye to Jeff at Ilford as we turned off towards Sofala and the next 1 hour or so was the most enjoyable bit of riding I had done all day. As fun as the Bylong Valley Way had been, the road from Ilford all the way to Bathurst was just tops for sheer riding pleasure. It’s all 3 dimensional sweepers, the 3rd dimension provided by very enjoyable elevation changes. The road winds through forests and scenic rolling hills, you go round a sweeping left hander climbing gently, over a blind crest and the road immediately drops and tracks right into a gorgeous right hand sweeper and you can see the next left wrapped around the side of the next hill. You’ve got butterflies in your stomach, a huge grin on your mug and your right hand automatically cranks the throttle back as the engine howls in approval. It came together for me in that section, it really did . It nearly didn’t for Mario though as he almost ran out of fuel. It’s good we always travel with our dedicated tanker, Karl’s bird. However much we might make fun of it, the tanker came in real handy for Mario that day.

Mt Panorama – The Hero’s track. We headed straight to Mt Panorama and since I’d never been there and never even seen it on TV, I didn’t know what to expect. It just blew me away! It was such an amazing experience to ride around it, even if it only at 60. The feel at the top is like you’re at the top of a circus giant wheel and it’s about to drop down, it’s a rush! As I descended, it just took my breath away and I couldn’t imagine how anyone could think of cranking motorcycles around here, it just seems insane. To be honest, I was happy to just putter around it, taking it all in. We did 3 laps, took some pics and slowly headed into town, each of us pondering the amazing experience we’d just had. 


Turned out to be an excellent hotel, the KnickerBocker, highly recommended. Well done Kimmie and a huge thanks for organizing the acco. The dilemma now was whether to ask for a refund on the unused accommodation for Dejan, Pete and Sav or just spread out and spend a more comfortable night at the expense of those less fortunate than us. I’m glad to say that the vote was unanimous that we should ask for a refund. The hotel staff were happy with that and only asked for payments for the rooms we were using which left us with another dilemma, what do we do with the money we now have left over from the cancelled acco. Booze it away or return it to those who bailed on us at the last minute. I’m glad to say that this time the decision was not unanimous as me and Pizza vociferously canvassed for option 1, our argument being that those who ditched us in this most glorious of adventures didn’t deserve our sympathy. And besides, what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. Arguments from the other side were all airy-fairy and words like principles, honesty and even national honour were thrown in, losers! We finally had to give in to Kimmie’s gentle persuasion and Mario’s threats of violence (why is the man so violent?) and paid for our own booze, what a golden opportunity missed.
We had a late start the next day so we all made the most of the night. Riding techniques were discussed, cornering speeds were boasted of, top speeds were thrown around the table, brown pants moments were confessed and offs were described and it was only 8PM. That’s when the night really took off but you just had to be there ;-)

Day 2 dawned late, actually it probably dawned at the regular hour, I just slept in. After a substantial breakfast, which I demolished with such class that it was talked about well into the day, we went out to retrieve our bikes from the Bottle-O. There was some excitement as the heroes of Sydney Riders helped the publican deal with some nasty anti-social types who’d wreaked havoc in one of the rooms the night before. As we got underway under bright blue skies, I lead a freight train onto the long sweepers on O’Connell road to Oberon and was setting an easy pace, enjoying the rhythmic bends when we came upon a hill climb. I don’t know if it was the late night or I was just not thinking straight but that road confused the fuck out of me and and I couldn’t work out which way the corners were going. I slowed down to crawling and sent a domino effect down the chain. Apparently I almost caused a 6 bike pile up by slamming on the brakes and was later named “The Bavarian Roadblock” by Andy  . Sorry fellas! Mario had had enough of my pansy riding and zoomed past me after the tight stuff, followed quickly by Andy and Kath.

An uneasy Taralga run - We met up with Dean and Con at Oberon who’d ridden up from Sydney in the freezing cold, braved a puncture and had still made it before us and are thus the recipients of the HTFU award for this trip. The bike hadn’t been feeling “right” since morning, I felt it moving around in an unusual way a few times. I thought it might be the tyre pressure so I checked at Oberon, they were fine  . I thought it’s all good, let’s get on with it. Stuffing around with checking the bike saw me leaving last from the servo, well behind the group. With a group like we had and the road that we were embarking on, I knew chances were slim of catching up but I gave it a shot anyway. But very soon I got the “something’s not right with the bike” feeling again. In the middle of a corner, leaned over, the back would sway around and the whole bike seemed to be flexing like a motogp bike. It suddenly hit me how much riding fast is about confidence and “feel”. I knew my tyres were wearing thin, the seed of doubt was sown, confidence ebbed from me and with it my speed tapered off. I was thankful when Dean, who was leading the run, backed off a bit to slow down the hitherto hectic pace and I was able to follow him for a while


On to Nerriga - We had a wholesome lunch at Tarago and then proceeded down the back road to Nerriga. None of us had done this road before so we were all a bit cautious. It turned out to be an interesting single track, narrow, bumpy and a bit dangerous but quite fun all the same. I was very surprised by how many oncoming cars we came across on this unknown backroad, many of whom strayed well into our side of the road, keeping us on our toes. There was a short section of gravel after which we crossed the Shoalhaven river via a causeway. It’s a beautiful spot for a camp or picnic. Then came the section that everyone had been waiting for all day. All day Mario had been asking me “Where is that Highway, just tell me when it starts so I know when to turn the camera on”. There were high expectations from people on Nerriga road but I had no doubt that it would impress the most demanding of riders. And boy it DID! It really is a gem this road, I had an absolute blast as did most of the others. The K12 was still moving around but I got used to it and just gave it a go anyway and it seemed to sort itself out. My theory now is that its actually the panniers that upset the bike at high speeds. I’ve never ridden a bike with panniers before and I think at high speeds they catch too much wind and can cause the bike to move around. As convenient as they are, I’m going to have a long hard think before I put them on for a spirited ride again  .
It was close to 4 by the time we got out of Nowra and everyone just wanted to get home so we just Princessed it back, saying our goodbyes at Berry.

All in all, it was an epic trip. Some of the best riding roads around Sydney, absolute cracker weather, a great group who all got along famously and rode spiritedly yet safely and looked out for each other. 
I think I just described the term “Perfect motorcycling weekend away”. 
Thanks to Pizza for dreaming up this ride and letting me steal it. Thanks to you all who shared and enriched this experience, it was great to ride with you all, I will treasure it.

Mario - Super Mario – Yamaha R1
HarryD – The Bavarian roadblock – BMW K1200R
Andy – The Devil – The Diavel
Kath – All things nice – BMW S1000RR
Karl – Big Bro – Bluebird
Kimmie – Mama Smurf – Whitebird
Wayne – Crystal clear – Blackbird
Pizza – The hard worker – SuzukiSV 650

VFRJeff – The Cultured one
Dean –Gsxr 1000
Con –BMW K1300R
Conan – Suzuki DRSM400

Oh Fuck! What time is it?! That was the rather panicky start to the day for me. My alarm didn’t go off and I was woken up by an sms from Dejan asking “Are we still riding mate?”, it was 6:42AM. God bless Dejan. I was supposed to update the forum with Go/No-Go at 6:30AM. There was no time to do a Met check so I said a quick prayer to the rain gods and posted the GO on the forum!

It was sprinkling lightly as I pulled into Sylvania Maccas, Dejan was already there. The boys started trickling in with ConRod being the last arrival, well past the go-live time of 8AM. He’s lucky I like him otherwise he would’ve found an empty maccas parking lot because as y’all know, time and Harry wait for no-one. Anyway, we pulled out and it came bucketing down as we got on the old princes hwy at waterfall. I pulled over to allow everyone to put their wets on. Of course there were the macho types who didn’t bring any wets and laughed at our softness. Well they probably weren’t laughing when they got back home and saw fungus growing in their crotches! I did a head count and realized MrWoo wasn’t with us anymore. He did mention we shudnt wait for him so I didn’t give it any more thought, except poor bugger, woke up early, got drenched, sat around in maccas, got drenched again and went home after riding 5 minutes! Anyway 5mins down the road the weather opened up and we were treated to blue skies as we motored down the freeway past Wollongong. After the traditional SR river crossing on the back road to MacPass, it was every man for himself as Pizza took off to make hay while the sun shone on MacPass. MacPass was bone dry much to everyone’s delight and lust gleamed in many a biker’s eyes on beholding those luscious curves . I followed Jugz all the way up, he in turn was held up by a BMW rider who was enjoying the curves in a rather leisurely fashion, much to Jugz’s frustration. It was entertaining to see Jugz right on the guy’s back wheel, waiting for the littlest opportunity to blast past but the guy was a tough nut and would close the door on every opening. Finally Jugz forced his way past on the first overtaking lane and i was expecting him to flash an angled hotham salute at the guy as he went past but he checked himself.

We said goodbye to the “softies” Jugz, Adrian & Ken who were turning around at the pie shop. The real men continued their brave march in the face of a light shower. I had, of course, brought out my wets again, which Dejan and “Pistol” Pete took as a sign that the rain would stop soon enough. And hey, the bloody rain DID stop 5 mins into the ride! We enjoyed some nice sweepers on the backroad to Marulan via Bundanoon before hitting the slab for a few minutes into Goulburn. After fuelling up both man & machine were raring to take on the best kept secret around Sydney, the Goulburn – Oberon road. Despite desperate pleading by the boys, I refused to put on my wets for this section as I was confident we had the rain gods firmly on our side now. Chrome had mysteriously lost a few pounds in the maccas dunny and his Sprint GT was enjoying the leaner & meaner load! I had just lead for the first few corners out of Goulburn when a single gunshot echoed in my helmet and I saw Pistol Pete streak past me effortlessly . I checked my mirrors coz I know where there is Pistol Pete, there’s bound to be a shadow, and sure enough BadR1 Dejan blew past me in the blink of an eye! I followed them for a couple of corners and then Poof! there was a puff of smoke and the duo disappeared from view, pulling one of their magic tricks. The Houdini brothers were gone!

Me & Robbo kept each other company and swapped leads a couple of times on the endlessly long open sweepers towards Taralga, it was blissful riding. It’s one of those roads that’s absolute heaven for bigger bikes as you can set them in 6th gear and just cruise along without requiring much throttle modulation at all and just enjoy the sweeping curves. OR, if you’re a mad fucker like the Houdinis, you can fang the fuck out of the fastest bikes available!
Me & Robbo pulled up at the T junction 30Ks short of Oberon to wait for the stragglers, Chrome Pizza & ConRod. After about 2 minutes Robbo ran out of patience and mumbled something about trying to catch up to the Houdinis and roared off. I sat down in the grass, played with some sticks, played with some rocks, played with the local dog, played with myself..  ! waited waited waited..  then I started getting worried, surely it couldn’t take this long, especially with BigPete around…I saddled up and went back to look for them. Thankfully 5 mins into the ride they all passed me flashing Hotham salutes. Bastards! I breathed a sigh of relief and turned around. BigPete, Conrod & I kicked tyres for a few minutes more, admiring BigPete’s bike and listening to his love struck phrases “Oh I luuoooveee this bike, Oh it’s so torquey, Oh it’s so stable in the corners…Oh I just want to make love to it…   ”  

Got into Oberon and got an earful from the Houdinis as they’d been waiting for 45mins for us stragglers to catch up. Serves you right for overtaking the ride leader ! Got out of Oberon and this time the Houdinis were taking it easy and I was able to keep them in sight. It’s just an amazing spectacle to follow these two trailblazers. So smooth, so composed and so fast, they flow together like a well-oiled machine. Chrome was really reaping the benefits of the afore-mentioned spot weight loss as he gunned the GT into the sweepers and was obviously enjoying the balance and composure of the tourer. The twisties between Oberon and Hartley are among my favourites and I revved the WPN hard enough to see glimpses of the beast that lives in the engine and comes out to play when the tacho needle goes past 10 clicks. He’s an ugly bastard that beast, scary yet hypnotic and I had to will myself not to fall under his spell!
It was raining again up at Mt Vic and some of us had had enough. The Houdinis, Conrod and myself split down the Great Western hwy on to home while Pizza, Robbo & Chrome sat around deciding what to do. Conrod, the crafty commuter, showed extraordinary Zeal in filtering and splitting through bumper traffic back in the big bad city. The most tiring part of the ride was crawling along the traffic back to home and I was done by the time I got off the bike in my parking lot.

A fantastic ride then, with a great bunch of guys. Thanks for the good cheer despite the sometimes damp conditions. Hold On! Don’t walk out yet, read the End Credits:
Best Male actor in a leading role = Harry, Yamaha R1
Best Female actor in a leading role = Pistol Pete, Yamaha R1 (she loves a big bang!)
Best Male actor in a supporting role = Dejan, Yamaha R1
Best Male actor in a comedic role = Chrome Nathan, Triumph Sprint 1050 GT
Last Action Hero – Jugz Jerry, Honda CBR1000RR
Action Assistant – Adrian, Honda CBR1000RR
Torque Expert – Ken KT750, KTM Duke 690
Special Effects expert – Robbo, Honda VFR800 (Red/Pink)
Big Guy Award – Big Pete (medium bike), Suzuki SV650S
Small Guy Award – Paul (PMC Dermo), Yamaha Zeal 250
Unsolicited Cameo appearance = MrWoo, Yamaha FZ1

3 days of awesome weather and truly fantastic riding! Since my mate BigPete nor I had a camera, here's the thousand words instead of the picture...

On a beautiful, warm and sunny early morning, the southern Sydney suburb of Rockdale is bathed in soft light. The air is still, birds are chirping and all is well with the world. The clock strikes 7AM and suddenly a deafening roar pierces the calm of the morning. The WPN is raring to go  !
I get out on the M5 heading west and smirk under my helmet looking across at the massive lines of people making their way towards the city, Suckers! Get out on the Putty road and all is well till the first couple of corners of 10Mile. I realize something's not right. Im taking it quite easy but I'm still going wide in corners and not taking the lines I want to. But I just did 10 mile a couple of weeks ago and was really happy with my lines and had a blast so whats happening here? I try to ride it out and push harder but almost immediately scare myself silly on a bit of gravel and decide to take a break and think this through...I munch on the sandwich i'd packed and just relax in the shade and i've got a hunch on whats happening, im taking it TOO EASY  ! Last time I was here I was attacking the corners and was really keyed up. Today, being the start of a long ride, i've been consciously trying to take it easy but I realize that's fucking up my natural riding style..I take off again deciding to ride naturally and not be artificially slow and my lines improve dramatically and my confidence soars. WhatTheFuck just happened?! Conventional wisdom says go slower and its safer but the WPN has a mind of it's own and it doesnt take kindly to pansy riders so i better just HTFU and hang on! Now i'm not a fast rider but just like on the Snowies trip i found yet again that the R1 rewards me with perfect precision and oodles of confidence when I decide to trust it over my survival reactions. Getting on the gas instead of backing off it usually results in predictable handling and really smooth cornering, which always left me with the feeling that i had plenty in reserve. At times like these, I try to remember Dean's words of wisdom (1 of many!) - The bike can do a lot more than what you'd ever need to ask of it in a road situation, you just need to trust it!

So 10mile was a breeze after that and i carried on through Singleton onto the backroad to Dungog. The road between Gresford and Dungog is especially picturesque even though the road surface is a bit patchy and the corners are unmarked which adds to the sense of adventure and i really enjoyed this section. Watched some cricket on the telly with the locals at the Dungog pub and then pushed on through to Gloucester, where i met up with Pete and the blue devil! There was unusual cop activity on Bucketts Way down to Taree and at 1 point we saw 6-7 cop cars hanging around, there mustve been some incident. Anyway, we had nothing to worry about as we always only do the limit  ! We turned off Bucketts to Wingham and desperate to avoid the slab to Port Macquarie, we decided to try the unsealed section to Comboyne. It was an adventurous journey to say the least. The road is 25km of loose gravel that has steep switchbacks up a mountain through virgin rainforest. It was intense but fun and at the end of it the bikes were so covered in dirt, it looked like we'd just completed the Dakar rally! So we came into PortMac and the first thing we did (Dan would be proud of us) was find a carwash and scrub off the bikes.
Checked into a motel right at the beach and decided to hit the swimming pool. Im glad i went in 5 mins before big Pete because after he jumped in, there wasnt much water left in the pool! 

Day2 dawned humid and sunny and we hit the Oxley with gusto. It just is a magic piece of tarmac, this Oxley, never ceases to please. There was a rally at Long Flat pub and there were a few Harley types hanging around as we passed through there. We saw more than a few looking decidedly hungover, which seems to suggest that much fun had been had overnight! A rather tough looking lady, wearing a cut sleeve leather vest, with finely worked arm muscles showing, was riding a harley up ahead as I started up the mountain. Her partner riding another Harley behind her, a sensible fellow, waved me through but this lady seemed like she had a point to prove. She took off in the straights and braked in every corner and seemed to be scared to lean the bike. I wished her all the best and went past as soon as I could. Dont know what happened to them they never made it to Gingers! Speaking to Gary, the owner at Gingers later, he mentioned that the Harley riders dont like to ride up the mountain and some of them turn back from or before Gingers! I cant imagine anyone on 2 wheels not wanting to have a bash up the Oxley! Anyway, we carried on our merry way up the Oxley and then cut onto the waterfall way down to Dorrigo, pissing off plenty of sober car people and generally making a nuisance of ourselves in the countryside. The last 30 odd kms of the Waterfall way coming into Dorrigo is absolutely fantastic. The road sits high along the ridge lines, with lush green mountains all along and a thin ribbon of black twisting through some sublime scenery. We stopped at Juan's Cafe Del Fuego for a bite, which is an interesting joint as it doubles up as Dorrigo's motorcycling museum. Juan came up and had a chat with us and on finding out that im of Indian background, he surprised me with his knowledge of indian history and culture, interesting guy! He remembered Dan too from some time ago and asked us to say Hi, so Hi Dan from Juan! Down Dorrigo mountain we went and then through the beautiful bellinger valley. It was hot and humid down in the valley and the river looked tempting for a dip but i let it go in favour of our pool back at PortMac, still wish i'd taken the plunge! The slab between Urunga and PortMac dragged on and on and on....and the only thought that kept us going was the pool and the spa in our hotel! We sat extra long in the hot spa that evening and i saw more bubbles than usual in Pete's spa tub (there were 2) but may have just been my imagination...  

Day3 was departure day and i chucked a left onto the Pac Hwy thinking we're gonna hav a nice and easy ride up Bucketts and be back home in time for lunch but Big Pete obviously had other ideas as no sooner had i got onto the Hwy, he came steaming past and started flailing his arms around wildly in the motion of a fish going through water. I thought, yeah great he wants to go fishing now! Anyway,i pulled over and he said "I thought we're going through the twisties". Oh! Thats what you meant with the fish motion! Turns out in all the drunken revelry of the night, we'd forgotten to confirm the route for the next day. Well, it took me all of 2 seconds to say yes to another bash of the Oxley so we chucked a Uee and away we went! I was taking it easy today, just enjoying the rhythms of the curves, concentrating on getting smooth lines rather than speed and it was such fun, the WPN is like a dear friend when you ride it right and i think it was rewarding me for coming back to the Oxley coz it was on its best behaviour! Fuelled up at Walcha and went thundering down Thunderbolts hwy, which is certainly enjoyable but the road surface is pretty patchy in parts, especially around the mountain where the lookout is. Coming down the mountain, around a particularly tricky bend, we saw a poor fellow had come off on his R1. Luckily he was OK and the bike was ridable. He was an older guy who'd been riding sportsbikes for ages and he said he had done some crazy stuff on his Kwakka ZZR before he got the R1 and he wouldnt have come off if he was still on his ZZR and that the R1 was a piece of shit! Needless to say, i took strong objection to his views and didnt feel the need to hang around such classless folk  ! It was a quick run down from Gloucester to the highway, where the heat and humidity of the coast were shocking after the pleasant weather of the highlands. We slabbed it down till the Peats Ridge exit and copped a bit of rain as we coasted down Old Pac to finish off a fantastic trip.

This is a ride report of a motorcycling trip to Mt. Hotham in Victoria with a few mates in March 2011

Glossary – 
1. The Hotham Salute – This is a form of polite greeting used by motorcyclists when greeting their fellow riders after a particularly hard piece of riding. It expresses joy, satisfaction and brotherhood. It involves making a fist out of your right hand and then raising the middle finger. The original Hotham salute involves keeping the palm of the hand turned upwards so the middle finger points vertically upwards (known as the Hotham Classic). There are several variations of this simple greeting now in operation. 

2. LightArse – A person who packs light for a trip and intentionally leaves out essential items like toothpaste and chain lube that he plans to borrow off his travel partners. A lightarse is also known to order just the burger at mcdonalds and then steal other people’s chips when they’re not looking…

Day 1 (Sydney – Mount Beauty)

The 4 bikerteers arrived (Dan, Joel, Jarred & Harry) well in time for a 6:30AM departure from Sylvannia Maccas. The 5th bikerteer, Robbo, was sorting out issues with the red dragon and was planning to join us further down the road. The highlight of the departure was Jarred firing up his new pride n joy, the twin, which inaword sounded IncrediblyAwesome. We had a blissful, zero traffic, run down Old Princes and up MacPass, events of a few days past fresh in our minds as we passed Coralee point. Slabbed it down to Gundagai where we met up with Dan’s “mythical” uncle, who everyone has heard of but no-one’s seen. A rather fine gentleman he turned out to be as he inspected the R1 and then was very appreciative of my choice of bike, leathers and helmet. “The complete riding package” he called me, ok he didn’t say it in exactly those words but I could see it in his eyes. A man of impeccable taste then but what’s he doing being Dan’s uncle??!! 

The fun stuff started with the long sweepers between Gundagai and Tumut and into the Koscioszco National Park where we copped a bit of rain. But as we reached the high point of Cabramurra and started our descent into the watershed of the Murray river, the road was dry and the magic really began. The dry snowgums on the mountainsides looked eerie and provided a surreal backdrop to the beautifully twisty road down to the Tumut Pond Dam. Dan was really hot on this run and as hard as I tried, I couldn’t keep up with him. Having ridden the Blackbird later, I’m amazed at how easy he makes it look in the tight stuff. I rode Joel’s Gixr between Khancoban and Corryong and was really impressed. Such a well balanced machine with impeccable handling, I immediately felt comfortable on it. It was a relaxing run down to Mt. Beauty with the only excitement being created by a rather dodgy double whammy overtaking maneuver performed by yours truly on unsuspecting Joel and Jarred, which left Jarred shaken but thankfully not stirred. Mount Beauty isn’t really a mountain but it sure is a beauty, nestling in a green valley at the foot of Mount Bogong. Excellent value accommodation was found at the Bogong Moth Motel and a fun evening was had chatting away over a pint or two at the local.

Day 2 (Mount Beauty – Corryong )

​Undoubtedly the best of day of riding I’ve ever done in Australia, what a magic day! 
Start the day on a return journey up to Falls Creek and boy did that road wake us up! Nonstop 35-45 corners and when I say non-stop, I mean non “tip in left, stand it up, flick it right and repeat 2000 times till Falls Creek” stop. Beautiful surface, alpine scenery and fresh mountain air – If you’re in the area DONOT miss this road. Back down to Mt. Beauty and get stuck into the climb to Tawonga gap, another magic piece of road. The ascent is steep and short while the descent is more leisurely and flowing. In fact the descent was so much fun that even the usually restrained Jarred couldn’t resist it and matched the twisty road with some lusty twists (of the wrist) of his own!

Excellent riding we were expecting, excellent cuisine we were not! But Bella’s café in middle-of-nowhere-ville at the base of Mt. Hotham turned out the best meal of the trip to set us up nicely for the much anticipated ascent up the Big Hoth. Many of the best experiences we often have are in places where we least expect them and many a times the big ticket items are the ones that crumble under the weight of our expectations. The big Hoth had a big load on it’s shoulders with our whole trip being named after it. But I’m pleased to announce that the big Hoth did indeed live up to it’s awesome reputation and I really found my groove in the tight stuff leading up to the top. I was in “the zone” and in such a state of hyper awareness, it was almost meditative. Each corner flowed effortlessly into the next and I was so relaxed on the bike it seemed like an extension of me, like an extra limb. Man I love the R1 at times like these. We were treated to some incredible riding through clouds at the top of the mountain and awesome scenery would suddenly appear around a corner, only to be shrouded in cloud around the next one. Mountain magic! The fast long sweepers down to Omeo were inviting and I hit “the zone” again, wow twice in a day! 

We filled up with fuel and information at the world’s best service station in Omeo where true country hospitality and service were offered by the big beefy bloke who came around and filled up our tanks and shared a few laughs with us. Now if you’re thinking Ok Harry, we get it, Mt. Hotham was fantastic, the best road of the trip and we don’t need to read the rest of your report coz the best is already past, BULLSHIT! For at Omeo, starts a road that has zoomed to the top of the charts in “Harry’s Top 200 rides in Australia” (Being published very soon by the kind people at hema maps). Just to give you an idea of the sheer quality of the rides that the king was up against - At number 200 is Harry’s local run from Rockdale Plaza to Brighton via the legendary West Botany Road and the mythical Bay Street. And if you’re not impressed by that (geez you’re hard to please!) let me tell you that the Bonang, Cann River road and the reigning champion, the Oxley, are all in the list. And the King, long he may live, is the Omeo Highway from Omeo to Mitta Mitta. 

The Omeo Highway 
The first section to Angler’s reach is technical as FUCK, or so I thought till a wanker on a BMW went past me carrying a pillion, showing me my lowly place in the motorcycling world! The road follows the Mitta Mitta river through a steep sided gorge, sometimes ascending high above and sometimes descending to the scenic river. We then hit a dirt section that is rough and corrugated and goes on forever and we think OK we had 20Ks of magic and 20Ks of dirt hmmmm…and then we stumble on Alladin’s cave. The dirt gives way to bitumen so smooth, it feels like grippy Marble. Corners so predictable they feel like they were drawn with a compass and curves so frequent the bike’s never straight for more than 2 seconds! And just as I was about to orgasm, the dirt struck again! Haha, Gotta Love it!
The reason the King is the King (for me) is 50% road, 25% scenic beauty and 25% remoteness. Now those motorcyclists who place more emphasis on the road itself may not agree that the Omeo is a better experience than the Oxley or even the Great Alpine Way but for me, the beauty of the area (some of the best camping spots I’ve seen in Australia) and the remoteness (there’s 2 long sections of rough and corrugated dirt either side protecting the hidden gem in the middle) are advantages that together outweigh the sheer quality of the Oxley’s bitumen. Not every man and his R1 will get there but I do know 1 man and his R1 that will definitely be going back!

(Yes it’s still Day 2 and we’re only half way through it. Didn’t I say it was the best riding I’ve ever done in Australia!)
At Mitta Mitta we decided to have a look at Dartmouth dam, which is the highest earthen dam in Australia. The Dam rock wall rising hundreds of feet above the valley floor was impressive enough but more impressive still were the thundering noises that were booming off the surrounding cliffs. We thought a bloody tsunami was about to hit but then we realized Tsunamis only happen in the ocean DOH! Intrigued, we ascended the road to the top of the dam very carefully, expecting some sort of rock avalanche in progress but what we saw completely knocked us out.
We had stumbled onto the highest drag racing strip in Australia! A bunch of motorcycling hoons (A vile and mean looking bunch they were too, the very people who give motorcyclists a bad name!) were using the road across the dam wall as a drag strip and racing their bikes across! Watching from our hidden vantage point amongst the trees, we watched a Gixr square off against an R1 (what a beautiful looking R1 that was too!). Away they went screaming across the dam, sending booming echoes all around and then they turned around at the other end and did it again!

Next up was a chubby bloke on a blackbird against a strikingly handsome young man on the aforementioned R1 (Shut up Dan, it’s my story and I tell it the way I saw it!). After recovering from the initial shock of our discovery, we had settled down to watch the free entertainment and were taking bets on the races. There was no doubt that the R1 would murder the Blackbird and I bet Dan $20. Dan knew what he was up against but being forever faithful to the bird, he took me on, no doubt with a sinking feeling in his heart. The flag went down and away they went and the smirk on my face inverted as I watched the blackbird smoke its tyres and leave the R1 in its wake. Surely, that couldn’t have happened and I turned around to Dan for confirmation but he was rolling around on the floor laughing, which only confirmed the outcome. But hey, the return trip was still on and this time the aforementioned handsome man on the R1 had a determined look on his face so we took up our seats again. They revved their engines and screamed away and amazingly the bird took the lead yet again but this time the R1 recovered by the 100M mark and left the bird eating dust over the next 100, a truly crushing victory!

Invigorated by the amazing spectacle we had witnessed, we raced back to Mitta Mitta to fuel up. The Mitta Mitta general store has a monopoly on trade in the town as it also acts as the post office, the fuel station, the hardware store and a place to shoot some traveller’s yarns. The owner is a classic Aussie larrikin who regaled us with spontaneous humour and stories from the area and the banter between our own larrikin, Dan, and this guy had us in splits for hours!
As we made our way out of Mitta, we met up with Robbo (you’d forgotten about him hadn’t you, we ll we hadn’t!) and carried on to Corryong to settle in for the night. Kudos to Robbo for his commitment to the trip. Despite a broken bike, bad weather and a moving target, he stuck with it in his good humored way and it was good to have him on board. Corryong, Victoria didn’t quite live up to its reputation as party capital of the high country but we did manage to have a good night recouting riding stories from times gone by. Of course, the stories got more and more fantastic as the night went on but hey as Dan says, never let the truth get in the way of a good story eh?!
OK you can relax now, get a cup of tea and stretch your legs coz Day 2 is finally over!

Day 3 (Corryong – Sydney / Map Here)
I’m exhausted from Day2 so this is my short hand version of Day 3

Overcast, Start riding with full wets on. Too hot, take off wets in front of Tintaldra hotel. Starts raining 5 minutes later. Wear wets again. Get onto massively slippery dirt road. Turn back. Avoid “death by motorbike” suicide attempt by cow calf. Survive.
Experience torrential rain, all sorts of debris on the road and gale force winds en route to Tumbarumba. Survive.
Narrowly avoid a deaf and blind Echidna on the road to Tumut. Survive.
Eat lunch at Gundagai maccas and decide to head home a day early as the weather wasn’t looking like changing the next day. Change plan on the fly and avoid the slab by heading out towards Cootamundra.
Undergo Near-Death experience on a backroad while daydreaming at ++. Survive!
Swap bikes with Jarred and I’m immediately impressed by the only bike that comes close to the “Awesome Feel” of the R1. Coming off the R1, the ride was a little underwhelming but that twin engine is, no doubt, in a league of its own.
Say our goodbyes at Suttons Forest. Me & Joel tackle MacPass, with me not more than 5metres behind Joel the whole way down, no pressure mate, I’m just hanging around! We say goodbye exactly where it all began 2000KM ago – Sylvannia Maccas!

So I was just thinking...if one was to take a weekday, any weekday really, today even. If today, one was to cut short their day at work, get on one's bike and head off aimlessly. If one was to head off aimlessly in any direction, south for example. One would go through the nasho for sure, where, I reckon one would discover the southern section to still be damp and slippery from the recent rains. One would encounter little traffic for sure as one made one's way down the coast road and wound round the sea cliff bridge. One could possibly detour to the Mt. Kiera road for example, just meandering. One would, no doubt, be dissapointed to discover that the Mt Kiera road is still closed due to rock falls. But one is on one's bike and the world would be one's oyster, so one would continue one's aimless meanderings further south, no doubt, given the chance.
If one had an adventure bike, any adventure bike really, this one even

one would, I imagine, not hesitate to take it on dirt roads that held promises of discovering hidden treasures. One may come across an obstacle or two

where, if one was homosexual or otherwise suffered from an excess of estrogen, one would consider turning back.
But should one be sure of one's sexuality and possess the curiosity of a cat, one would continue despite the objections of authority

And who knows, one may stumble upon a stunning vista

or experience the excitement only imminent danger can provide

or one may just be rendered speechless by the sheer beauty of the world we live in and meditate on the meaning of life

Yeah, who knows what one might discover, on a weekday like today. If one lets one's imagination run wild and siezes the moment.

I woke up the other morning at the usual time and half asleep, I went through the usual process of changing my daughter’s overflowing nappy. Nappies, now that is amazing technology. Do you know how much piss a nappy can retain without bursting its banks? A shit load. I mean it swells to humongous proportions and I swear I have taken a nappy off my daughter that felt heavier than Thor’s hammer. I have studied the constituents of a nappy very closely, not by choice but by circumstance. Let me tell you how that came about. A few weeks ago I was changing my daughter’s nappy and as I took it off, I spied a shadowy dot darting across the carpeted floor to my right. Being a hunter by instinct and a cockroach hater by nature, the urge to immediately destroy the spineless runt overwhelmed me. Now, anyone who has killed a cockroach before would know that response time is critical. You need to act immediately and decisively. Any delay and the fucker will find a little crevice somewhere and not emerge till lights are out. So, not wasting any time, I used the only thing I had immediate access to, to clobber the cockroach. I swung the soggy nappy over my head and brought it crashing down like Thor’s hammer. The lil fucker didn’t know what hit him and was blown to smithereens before he could say “Surely, this is a piss take”. Unfortunately, the nappy was blown into a million particles of fibre too, glistening with piss. They shone like crystals all over the carpet, upto 5 metres away from the epicentre of the destruction. It was a brilliant scene to behold, like a magic carpet of crystals and I was stunned into silent awe.  It would've been romantic too if one didn’t know the nature of the glittering particles one was walking upon.

Anyway, how did we get to talking about nappies? Fuck!
So yeah, I woke up this morning and started to get ready to embrace the day. Then I peeked out the window and the view made me sick. The sky was a deep blue, the world was bathed in soft sunshine, the birds were chirping away and it all made me sick. So sick, in fact, that the need for remediation was paramount and overwhelming. And the only remediation for the sickness that had taken over me was this:

I fired it up and the soothing music from these instruments began ridding my body of evil and the aromatherapy of burnt petrochemicals further enhanced my feeling of well-being.

I got on the Tuono, let the clutch out and galloped off into the fresh morning air. The day was long and the world was mine to explore so I meandered along, starting at the old pacific highway where I was told to

I ignored that well-meaning advice by the government, which was only trying to protect me from myself. A sympathetic officer of the law informed me that there were plenty of brothers of the hidden steering wheel in my path as an “operation” was underway so I decided to get as far away from the path of the law as possible. I went down to wisemans, took the dirt road to St. Albans and continued down to Wollombi.

The stretch between Wollombi and Broke is one of my favourite runs around Sydney because of 2 reasons. The first reason is narrow and twisty with cliff on one side and a river on the other. It is bumpy and technical with no margin for error as the corners are blind and overgrown with vegetation. It is a compelling reason. The second reason for my partiality to this section is wide and smooth with sweeping constant radius turns and endless visibility. It is the stuff that road racers have wet dreams about and the Tuono proved to be an exhilarating mount to experience its thrills on. On this section, I also made another pertinent discovery. The Tuono will easily lift its front wheel with a snatch of throttle in first gear. I have only ever brought the front wheel up on a motorcycle with the help of a clutch. This new throttle only bonanza seemed so ridiculously easy that I was doing it at nearly every takeoff henceforth!

I then proceeded down the Putty Road where I was joyfully accosted by a brother of the clip-on, whose pleasure at seeing a connoisseur of that “other”, underrated Italian brand of bikes was immense.
Gary hails from Newcastle and rides a tricked up Aprilia RSVR that had a big bore kit installed, Ohlins front and back, Oz wheels and carbon fibre goodies costing more than my second bike is worth.

We rode through the ten mile together, him leading one way and me leading back. It was good to hear what my own bike sounds like as I heard Gary pulling out of corners in front of me. Fuck, that twin pipe goodness from the 60degree v-twin sounds incredible gunning out of corners!

The Tuono really came into its own on the 10 mile. Easy grunt, it was most enjoyable to avoid braking and just use the throttle on-off dial to meter speed into and out of corners. The suspension  gave great feedback at substantial angles of lean and the overall package was rock solid and wildly entertaining.
I then decided to head further west to sample the pleasures of the Bylong Valley Way. This road is stunningly picturesque and breathtakingly fast. It is hard to go fast and enjoy the scenery as well and usually you have to choose one or the other to avoid becoming part of the scenery yourself. 

But today I was able to somehow set a decent pace that still allowed me to take it all in. I credit the Tuono for it. It was just so pleasurable to ride through here. Put it in fourth and enjoy the pulsing rhythm of the twin through the winding countryside.

Having a decent tank range was also a pleasant surprise. The light came on at 205Ks and I had another 60 odd to go so I was never nervously scanning the horizon for signs of petroleum like I was used to on the Dorsoduro.
Instead, I stopped at some interesting sites and took it in the stunning countryside and its relaxed pace of life:

Then it was a fairly uneventful run back over the mountains via Bells with the only relief provided by the stunning lookout at Capertee of the weird and wonderful sandstone formations of the Widden area. My mobile phone pics are crap, it is a truly breathtaking place and view:

I got home after 10 hours on the bike and 700Ks under my belt feeling refreshed and relaxed. I think the day was just what the doctor ordered.