The origins of the BikeMe Pilgrimage are lost in the anus of time, where, obscured by the milky fog of generational changes, they recede ever closer to the womb of myth.
The origins may not be immediately apparent but the spirit of this event is clear as day. A journey to pay homage, to give thanks or to ask for the favour of the gods. A pilgrimage can be undertaken for many reasons but above all, it is a journey made with devotion. As an Indian, I’m no stranger to pilgrimages and back where these journeys are regular occurrences for millions of people, it is said that the harder your journey, the more merit you attain from it.
Well, I didn’t do it as tough as the people who measure the distance of their pilgrimage journey with the length of their bodies, prostrating themselves at every step of a thousand mile journey. 
Nor did I join the largest pilgrimage in the world where a 100 million people converge from all parts of the world to take a dip in a river that is holy to them, to rid themselves of sin and request benevolence from the gods.

Sure, I didn’t do it very tough but it was still very much a pilgrimage for me and in keeping with the spirit, I wanted to ensure I didn’t do it too easy! And even if I did lose my way amongst all the debauchery for a bit, the ride home in freezing rain, sans faggy fairings, screens and heated accessories certainly put the suffering back into the journey and would surely have gained me some merit! That fucken TVKraut would’ve taken the most merit out of the trip though, riding back to Melbourne without wets of any kind! He gets it.

Others didn’t and had to be helped to extract merit from their pilgrimages. Partymore for example. On the Sunday morning, as I stood shivering in my vented leather jacket and summer gloves, hopping to keep myself warm at the Bathurst servo, Julie calmly plugged in her heated Rukka jacket, switched on the heated gloves and with a nod of goodbye, flicked on her heated grips. That’s when it dawned on me. Till then I’d been feeling guilty about hassling this wonderful lady at the campfire on Friday night. I had given her a hard time over her failure, as a molecular biologist, to control the cane toad menace that Australian fauna face. Apparently I was quite passionate about my support for the natives and disdainful of the snooty scientific community. Of course, it was not Julie’s fault that the Bureau of Sugar Experiment Stations introduced the cane toad to Australia in 1935 and that first cane toad fucked himself a family so large that it is now threatening extinction for native species that have been around for thousands of years. Those of you that have witnessed me in full flow might understand that I can get a bit..umm..persuasive with my arguments as the night goes on and I’d been feeling guilty that I’d railroaded such a fine lady as Julie. But, after seeing her comfortable motorcycling existence, it dawned on me that I was a mere pawn that night. Her pilgrimage was progressing much too comfortably and the gods had moved me into place to provoke. For without provocation, there is no growth. And without growth, there is no merit. She may not appreciate it now of course, and rightly think of me as a cunt but I suspect when she’s receiving her dame-ship from the prime minister at Australia Day 2028, for ridding Australia of the dreaded Cane Toad menace, she may remember that night at the Pilgrimage 2014, where it all began. Good luck Julie!

Then there’s young Andrew, the artist formerly known as ATEP. Though well-endowed with merit from previous exploits, the gods had not taken lightly to his “flying in to the pilgrimage” copout this time round. I was once again the instrument of the gods in deriding the “entitlement complex” that afflicts his generation and though he brave heartedly stood up for his fellow generationists, over the course of a couple of hours and several cups of rum-laced tea, he had seen the light and was wishing he too, was born in the seventies, or at least eighties.
Of course, it was not all sermons and derision, there was some downright bizzare stuff. At one point I shouted across the campfire to Res, “Oi RES! Rape, fucken!” 5 seconds of stunned silence later I followed it up with, “Cunt!” I still can’t remember what the fuck I was trying to say but I’m sure it made perfect sense at the time.

Friday night was mucho hilarious and as the punters fell off the wagon (some like wood-duck literally fell off the wagon, and stayed down too), it was Stacey, Andrew, Syd, myself and a very drug fucked ChrisACT who called it a night at 3AM.
The non-camping fags had steadily wobbled off on their steeds with varying degrees of competence. The worst being Curse who later recounted his 15 minutes of paranoia riding at 30 kilometres an hour in 6th gear from the campsite to the hotel convinced that the cops were chasing him and had sabotaged his bike, which was why it was jerking so much. While Ross got on the gas thinking a monster was running behind him, appearing as a soft red glow in his mirrors (which he later realized, was his own tail light).
There were many such hilarious stories, too many to recount. 

Saturday morning started way too early for me but surprisingly the rum of my people did not give me a hangover and I was feeling way better than I had any right to. I had to get a new rear tyre due to over enthusiastic throttle use the day before so I headed to Bathurst and got that done. Then, due to a strange turn of events that I still don’t completely fathom, I found myself riding to a far-off place, alone, with no maps or phone, negotiating 40 kilometers of dirt, which sometimes turned to wet clay. It was great fun and as I didn’t know were the fuck I was going or how I was going to get there, it involved lots of stopping and asking local people for directions. Anyway, I ended up at this place called Wingdang or something with a population of 2, one of which was a cat. The non-cat inhabitant ran a pub and cooked a mighty fine steak sandwich for me, which I ate with relish.

Then I stumbled my way onto the Hill End road and thoroughly enjoyed it as my new tyres were well and truly scrubbed in by now. Meanwhile I had missed out on the slow race and bungee castle shenanigans, which were apparently hilarious. But I did climb the hill and attend the memorial ceremony conducted by the Padre, who though distracted by lust tainted thoughts of himself on an 1190R Adventure, managed to keep focus for long enough to impart the required gravity to the task at hand. While Res and Daz heckled shamelessly from the sidelines.

Saturday night was a consciously quiet one for me as I gently encouraged others to take centre stage and provide the nightly entertainment. No-one really stepped up though Daz was well on his way when he non-camp-fagged himself away. Bubba was also going the full Bubba when he reeled it in and failed to take the night to its logical conclusion (in the gutter).

The inevitable sombre Sunday morning mood was tainted further by the foul weather but I still made sure I said a proper goodbye to everyone I could find.

It was fucken great to catch up with so many people I haven’t seen for much too long.

And now I’m back feeling cleansed and recharged, smug in the knowledge that I’m part of something special, something real and something worth journeying for.

I went on a trip with a few mates in May 2014. We went out over the Blue Mountains, cut north along the Bylong Valley Way then headed up to the Oxley Hwy and back down the Thunderbolts. A neat 1800 Kms of twisty bitumen riding over 2 days.It was an interesting collection of bikes we had. 5 bikes, 5 manufacturers and 3 genres. It was one big bike whoring session as everyone wanted to jump onto my new bike (2007 Aprilia Tuono) so I got to ride all the other bikes and here are my impressions:

1. 2012 Triumph Speed Triple R 

What a great looking bike! Ive always wanted to ride this bike properly since they came out. A short test ride a couple of years back while waiting for new tyres on the Dorsoduro had only whetted my appetite. And I wasnt dissapointed, its a great bike. If i was to sum it up in 1 sentence then i'd say the controls fall easily to hand, there are creamy waves of torque to surf and it corners on rails. Seriously though, this bike deserves more than a sentence. 
It is very comfortable, feels lighter and physically smaller than my Tuono. You also sit closer to the front wheel so it literally feels like the handlbars are right over the front wheel. The really long tank on the Tuono distances you somewhat from the front wheel. The engine is great, pulls pretty hard and is very smooth and linear. I havent looked at dyno charts or specs even to compare the two but I reckon it has more torque than the Tuono in the lower revs. It is certainly smoother and easier to pull away cleanly as the Tuono needs to be revved a bit to avoid getting bogged down. But the smoothness is kinda dull after a while. Where the Tuono's magical pounding twin engine is pulsing away always reminding you you're riding a visceral beast, the Speedy is a lot more understated, certainly more like an I4 than a V-Twin.

The chassis is fantastic and you can really feel the quality of the Ohlins front and rear. This bike was setup too hard for me but when you start pushing it (and I mean doing 200K on the Bylong Valley Way) it was wonderfully composed and confidence inspiring. The bike feels a very solid and "single unit" compared to the Tuono, which feels loose and flexes around its frame and suspension a lot more. But I think I just need to get my suspension dialled in properly. The brakes on the Speedy are almost too strong, monoblock Brembos I think. Fucken sensational! Mad stoppies would have been the order of the day had I known how to do them.
Overall, The Speed Triple is a very satisfying bike. Nimble, powerful, competent and very fun! 

Would I buy one? For 10 grand Yes. For 15, naah. The Tuono has a lot more character and i was happy to get back on mine!

2. 2013 BMW K1600GT

I had ridden this before for a short distance and was amazed for a few different reasons. This longer and faster ride confirmed my initial impressions. Firstly, this bike is so radical it is incomparable to anything else i have ever ridden. Sure, it is the biggest bike I've ever ridden and feels like the starship enterprise when you're perched in its cockpit but that is only part of its weirdness. The real weirdness begins when you get it going. If you are on a road trip riding a conventional motorcycle and by that I mean a naked bike or a sportsbike or a sports tourer, the guy on the K1600 is having a substantially different motorcycling experience from you. Its almost like you're undertaking separate activities, you are riding a motorcycle and he is floating on a balloon.
OK, the 6 cylinder donk pulls like a fucken tank, it is QUICK, by any standards. Even with the akrapovics it doesnt sound nearly as good as a 6cylinder engine should sound but there is no mistaking it is very very quick. There are millions of buttons and screen readouts to distract you but I was only interested in riding the bloody thing so if you want me to tell you whether the stereo is audible at a hundred and fifty kilometers an hour then i'm fucked if I know but I can tell you that 150 comes up pretty quickly on that screen. And this is the really surprising part, it is nimble. Yes, its not a typo, NIMBLE. You counter steer, it turns immediately. It is a little unnerving how quickly it turns because of the bulk you feel like the Costa Concordia is doing a topsy turvy on you. But it is all part of the plan of Klaus, the germanic super engineer, it is DESIGNED to turn, it does not do it by sheer luck. So its all singing, all dancing, all amazing is it Harry? Is it the way of the future Harry, should we all sell our motorcycles and our offspring and put down a deposit on one?

Well, hold on. The problem is, aha..yes it has a problem and a big one. You are completely disconnected from the road. There is NO fucken feeling of what that front wheel is doing. You go over a bump and a mild sensation seeps through the heated couch you're sitting on. The suspension is pogoing around but you cant feel a thing through your hands or your feet or your bum. It is all strangely absorbed by the bike. So it really feels like you're floating around on an air balloon as you glide over rather than ride on the road. Also, I just couldnt get my head around how much I was leaning the bike as everytime I leaned it to take a bend, the whole starship enterprise starting tilting like the leaning tower of Pisa and it freaked me out. It is something that you will, of course, get used to but what you will never get is the sensation of what exactly the front wheel is doing and how far you're pushing it. Now dont you go thinking that I am new to this BMW Duolever shit and dont understand it. I do. I owned a K1200R and covered 20,000 twisty and bumpy kilometers on it fairly quickly so I totally understand "disconnected" suspension. But this K16 takes "disconnected" to the next level. You really dont know what the hell is going on under all that heavy bulbous that you see in front of you. You just have to trust Klaus on that one and once you do, you can go very very quickly around corners on it. 

In summary, I cannot think of any more comfortable or quicker way to cover some serious miles on a motorcycle. It is the ultimate sports tourer. Yes, "sports" is totally appropriate for this motorcycle, you will have to be a very good rider indeed to lose a well ridden K16 in anything faster than 45K corners. They will be right up your arse, most likely with one hand flicking through radio stations and the other optimising the seat temperature.

Would I buy one? Naah, bitch fizz factor = ZERO!

3. 2006 Suzuki GSXR 1000

The legendary K6 Gixxer. I finally got to sample the legend and evaluate the myth. Its fucken true, its a truly great bike. Its comfortable, great mid range. I rev it in 4th gear from 6K and reach 200KMPH in the blink of an eye. That kind of acceleration is kinda addictive and I was more than a little naughty on those open stretches of the Oxley heading east into Long Flat. While I was reveling in the illegality of it all, it was totally routine for the gixxer, it was just warming up when I closed the taps. It is frightening how fast this thing is. Totally over the top of course but thats the fun of it isnt it? To have all that power and speed lurking just below the surface, ready to be unleashed with a twist of the wrist, will definitely add a few more inches to your manhood. I was bursting out of my leather pants by the time we got to Long Flat. I really like this bike, its insanely powerful, handles very predictably yet is comfortable and not intimidating. 

Would I buy one? Naah, I'm over sportsbikes. But if you're in the market for one, there can be no better bang for buck than a K6 gixxer thou.

4. 2007 Yamaha R1

Dejan the racer rides an 07 R1. Dejan races a CBR1000RR Fireblade with the big boys and is very very quick on road and track. We swapped bikes between Long Flat and Wauchope as he is thinking about whether to get a naked bike for the road. I owned an 06 R1 for a tempestuous 12 months. I say "owned" only in the sense that I apid some money to acquire it. That bike made it amply clear that I did NOT own it. It was a cantankerous supermodel of a bike. When it was on, it was fucken glorious but when the mood took it, it would do all it could to spit me off, in which it finally succeeded. I have a healthy respect and fear of R1s since then. This R1 did nothing to allay my fears. People say all Jap Inline 4 litre supersports are the same. Fuck you they're not. The 07 R1 is as different from an 06 Gixxer as an 07 Tuono is from a '12 Speed Triple. The gixxer was comfortable, the R1 was dedicated arse up head down. The throttle on the Gixxer was silky smooth and progressive, the R1 was jerky like a rocket ship. The suspension on the giixer was supple, the R1 was rock hard. That, of course, can be adjusted to some extent. The R1s intake sound just howls and everything about this bike is mean and mocking. It just taunts you to go faster and mocks you if you dont. And nothing is fast enough for this bastard of a bike. If the gixxers add a few inches to your manhood, the R1 emasculates you immediately. Contact with the seat makes your dick shrivel as you realize only porn stars hung like horses and motogp racers with melons for balls could satisfy this bike. 

Fuck, I hate R1s. Would I buy one? I would rather cut my dick off with a blunt saw.

This ride was done sometime in winter 2012. First run on the Dorsoduro I think it was!

It was a good day, actually scratch that, it was a bloody good day!
5 of us left McGraths Hill at the base of the Blue Mountains around 8:30, was a bright and crisp morning with not a cloud in the sky. Pete and I run a similar pace through the twisties and have ridden many miles together. Pete is a giant of a man, is on his Ps and rides a LAMS SV650 (which he may or may not have accidentally derestricted) but don’t let that fool you, he’s bloody quick and demolished the field in yellow group at his last track day at Eastern Creek. He’s just bloody talented, the bastard! 
That is Pete in the background. Yes, that’s a full size motorcycle, yes the seat only reaches his knees

Tony calls himself “redmistracer” in cyberspace. He is an accomplished racer and took out a race win on his ZXR400 at his last outing at Wakefield Park. He doesn’t ride on the road much but it’s always a pleasure to ride with him. He just hangs back with us and takes it easy while we’re huffing and puffing and hanging off like poofs.
That’s Tony near Hampton later in the day

Jeff is a recovering carfag and a VFR800 is helping his rehabilitation. He's a good guy and fun to have along on a ride but he did not make it to the podium on this ride. Therefore, there are no pikchurs of him.

Prez is a crazy Czechman who counts possum fighting (this involves him fighting with a possum, not 2 possums fighting each other) as one of his hobbies. He reckons that a pole dancing class is a metrosexual man’s best chance at scoring with the opposite sex. I reckon it’s a pretty safe bet to score with the same sex as well. He rides a CBR954.

Here we are all at the halfway house on the Putty

I had a cracking run through the 10mile, with Tony following. Pete was struggling a bit as his shock had had enough of his considerable weight crashing onto it at regular intervals and was refusing to co-operate with his demands. Got to Bulga at 10 and waited till 10:30 in case OldGriffo turned up which he didn’t. I used the time to reduce the tyre pressures and soften the suspension as it was too harsh and the bike was skipping about on bumps over 150.

Jeff turned back at Bulga cos he’s still got a bit of fag in him and we continued onto the Golden Hwy, Sandy Hollow and turned onto the Bylong Valley Way. The BVW always puts me in 2 minds, the awesome road urges me to crack on through at breakneck speed while the beautiful scenery tempts me to slow down and take it all in. Today I did the former, I was just having too much fun to stop for pics.
This is us at Bylong, where we stopped to let Prez, who was riding like a girl today, catch up

A magnificent lunch was had at the Globe Hotel at Rylstone, while lounging around in the sunny lawns. Tony reminded me to take a pic of the food as that sort of stuff can really push up the ratings of your post on BikeMe (where this ride was posted).

From there we proceeded onto the Sofala road. Prez proved his homosexual tendencies by forsaking the manly pleasures of the Sofala road to slab it back and watch a footy game, bloody footyfag! Tony, Pete and I flew in formation along the incredible twists, turns, dips and rises of the Sofala road but it was all too short as we hit Kelso before climaxing. The climax came on the Oberon to Lithgow road, which we annihilated ferociously, before stopping near Hampton for a rest and some scenic shots.

All up we did about 700Ks, narrowly missed taking out a wallaby (on the Putty road) and a wombat (near Hampton), had a great feed and went home to hot showers (not together) with huge grins. Yeah, was a bloody good day!

I bought a 2005 BMW K1200R with 4,200KMs in 2011. Yeah fucken 4 thousand Kilometres in 6 years. It had rizoma rearsets, some blingy bits that made it look really cool (I thought so anyway) and a full remus system that was louder and angrier than the R1 I had before. It had had its final drive replaced under warranty, which is the most common thing to fail on these. The gearbox, which waa also a weak point of the early models, had been fine. I love these guys who buy expensive bikes, bling them out and then park them in the living room. And there’s plenty of them, which is why I’m unlikely to ever buy a new motorcycle.

As I said, I did about 20K Ks on it which included a couple of Oxley runs and a few 800K day rides around Sydney. I also did 2 track days on it and was very surprised at how well it went around Eastern Creek.

That engine is silky smooth with serious, linear grunt with no hiccups from 3K to redline, which kicks in at 12K RPM. It was the fastest thing off the line I'd ever ridden because of its long wheel base and huge torque celebrated down low in the rev cycle. The Sportsbikes only caught up to it after crossing 100KMPH. It’s a big motorcycle, weighing in at over 230KGs, and felt it too at a standstill and slow speeds. Once over 100Ks and going for it, it was surprisingly nimble and only showed its weight in chicanes while needing to change from left to right quickly. It took ages to get it to stand up from full lean and that was a bit annoying at the track. But it made up for that by absolutely rocketing out of corners when the fun handle was exercised.

At the track, despite the rizoma rearsets being relatively high, I  scraped the shit out of pegs and foot levers. Though this says more about my riding technique than the bike's inadequacies.

And the best part of the bike was the suspension, that front end is something really spectacular. It is just perfect for a roadbike. It sticks like fucking GLUE to the road and just feels rock solid over rough pavement. It doesn’t give much feedback through the bars but once you get used to that and learn to trust the thing, it is just phenomenal and I was very comfortable riding on the very edge of that 190 section rear tyre. The front end hardly dives under brakes so there is little weight transfer to upset the bike. The whole thing is just very fucken stable. In the whole 1 year and 20 thousand Ks, I cannot remember a single “moment” on that bike, it did everything I asked it to do, without a fuss and with a lot of class. And in fucken comfort too. That ESA (Electronic Suspension) is great. Put it in comfort mode and the bumps on the notoriously bumpy Thunderbolts Way disappear. Put it in Sport and it hardens up enough to be able to push pretty hard on a racetrack.

Also, I didn’t have a single problem with the bike while I had it. Actually that’s not true, the rear brake sensor fucked up when I moved the rearsets around but that was an easy enough fix. The previous owner had fixed all the known issues including final drive that would’ve cost 5K out of warranty.

So why did I sell it eh?
The simple answer is because I get bored easily. I’m currently convincing myself that I need to upgrade from the Dorsoduro because it’s underpowered but really, for the road, it’s not. I just get itchy feet every 12 months.

How I convinced myself to sell the K12 was – We had our first baby on the way and I thought I wouldn’t be doing many overnight trips and big day rides for a while. The big beemer is really only fun at higher speeds. The bike did everything so perfectly well with minimum feedback that ultimately, it was a little uninvolving, especially if you're not gunning it. Anything under a hundred, city riding etc and it definitely shows its weight. I convinced myself I needed a smaller, more agile bike that was more fun at lower speeds. Didn’t really work out that way as I broke in my Dorsoduro with a week-long trip to the MotoGP and gunned the fucker to within an inch of its life riding with the BikeMe boys!
But that was my thinking anyway. I don’t regret selling it coz the Dorso is a bundle of fun and has progressed my riding further but if I was to buy a bike that I intended to keep for a while and do lots of Ks on, the K13 would be very high on my list.

This trip was done with my mates Paul and Tony in Jan 2013

9:30AM at the BP on General Holmes Drive near the Sydney Airport, Tony (Redmistracer), Paul (ConRod) and I mount our steeds and I ask “Are we the three musketeers or the 3 amigos?”. Paul, in his typically dry and irreverent Irish drawl says “The 3 stooges” and I thought “yeah, sounds about right.” Now 9:30AM might strike you as a bit of a late start if you’re planning to ride over 800 ks with plenty of twisties thrown in but the 3 of us are unfashionably laid back in rush-rush Sydney. In fact, if we laid back any more, we’d be queenslanders. You can’t beat those fuckers in the special Olympics for laid back people, they’re an hour behind everyone before they even wake up! But as my friend and world famous in Australia author Boris Mihailovic would say, “I’m getting ahead of myself here”.

The run upto Long Flat via Gloucester was uneventful except for getting stuck behind Highway Patrol Car number 202 for a large part of the run down from Gloucester to Taree. Luckily some grey nomad in an ancient caravan crossed the center line a few too many times ahead of us and distracted plod enough for us to sneak past. Long Flat was hot and quiet, with its saving grace being a single motorcycle parked outside, a beautiful black Multistrada 1100, which, in typical ducati tradition, was held together with duct tape. Well at least the left mirror was anyway. Presently we saw the sweaty, singlet clad figure of Wood-Duck emerging from the dark recesses of the pub with a broad smile and an extended hand. I had feared the worst after making him wait for an hour but he was generous in his forgiveness and we headed off to Gingers Creek without faffing.

The run up to Gingers was eventful. ConRod and Tony took off and I’d just reeled in ConRod when coming round a tight left hander I saw Tony across the road in the dirt, enjoying the view from the edge. Apparently his left heated grip slipped down causing the clutch to lock and him unable to downshift just as he was about to hook into the corner. This forced him to go off straight across the other lane and into the dirt, hard on both brakes. He was very lucky there was no one coming the other way and that this was one of the few corners that actually had a bit of runoff. He still did amazingly well to wash off enough speed before reaching the edge, it was a long way down! Anyway, he took it in his stride and shot off to the front again. 

Here’s a video of me watching Tony disappear into the shadows:

It was hot at Gingers and Paul’s face was alternating between beetroot red and ghostly white at alarming intervals and was refusing to move. Just as we were about to call in for the Westpac rescue helicopter, he decided to man up and continue.

I followed Anthony out from Gingers and turned on the video, you can see it here: 

It was a nice, smooth run and I quite enjoyed chasing the wood_duck.

Anthony signed off at the Armidale roundabout on the New England Highway and we soldiered on to Glen Innes with thoughts of being handed cold beers by hot blondes as we lounged in the pool. We were granted 2 and a half out of our three wishes, the beers were not cold enough. Dinner was excellent though.

I was really looking forward to Day 2, not only were we gonna explore the beaut roads of northern NSW, we were also gonna ride with some BikeMe legends. MickR and LindsayMac were at our door at 8:30 sharp and we took off with minimal faffing. Unfortunately, the day was to be full of faff as it unfolded. At Tenterfield, we waited for the northerners at the world famous Masons Milk Bar

and waited...

Tony was not impressed

The queenslanders finally made it a full 1 hour late, at 11AM, minus 1. Apparently Klavdy’s alarm clock was cactus. We were expecting an apologetic and grovelling bunch but when confronted about their delayed arrival, the queenslanders shocked us by unbelievably claiming that they were on time. Redeye even showed me his watch, which said 10AM. It then struck all of us as one, the fucking time difference! None of us bright gentlemen had realized that NSW and QLD were on different times. With the state of origin debate declared a draw, we presented a united front to take on the Bruxner. I made Lindsay the road captain with Tony, redeye, reg, Cyper, MickR, Conrod and I making up the foot soldiers.
It’s a beaut road, the Bruxner. Not always the smoothest, while the melting tar made things even more interesting. Here’s a video of me following Cypher for most of the run. We bitched Reg and MickR along the way while catching up to the lead group of Lindsay, Tony and Redeye. It was amazing watching Cypher punt that Kat, right on the edge of his skinny tyres.

We pulled into Drake for a regroup and it was just as well coz I noticed ConRod’s speedo cable dangling under his front wheel. He was without a speedo for the rest of the trip, who needs a speedo anyway! I had a ball following Lindsay through some twisties before we hit Casino. Lindsay rolls into town, standing high on the pegs on the SM, surveying and intimidating all before him, like a fucken BOSS! He’s sexy and he knows it. In fact, he’s too sexy for his steed and she knows it too, coz she spat the dummy at Casino. Lindsay consulted Mick, who was unable to provide any help other than temporary comic relief:

Lindsay then called the help desk, which connected to a call center in India, where he was urged to switched it off and then on again

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, the inter-state bike builders convention was taking place:

Ultimately it was decided, on the advice of the call center experts that the Kato was cactus and Lindsay’s ride with us was over. He was gonna nurse it back home with Mick volunteering to escort him back. I think rather than any noble intentions guiding Mick’s generosity, it was the thought of getting out of the heat and knocking a few cold ones back at JAF’s place that motivated him.

Anyway, we carried on and I realized redeye was missing. Apparently he was all faffed out and had decided to carry on to Kyogle and wait under a tree for us. Seriously mate, you found the company of a tree preferable to us? The road out from Kyogle to Uki is spectacularly scenic and bumpy in equal measure. I was out in front enjoying myself when the first of those horrendous bumps jarred the shit out of me but Reg, who was behind me, had reserved his A-game for this bit of road. He waited impatiently behind me for a bit and then totally bitched me going downhill on one of those bumpy corners. Don’t know if his substantially greater weight weighed the bike down or the cunt is just nuts but he didn’t even slow down as I was rocking around losing all kinds of traction. Those Kats have been seriously impressive this weekend. Anyway, after being bitched I pretended to take an interest in the scenery and stopped to admire Mt Warning:

Did I mention there were twisties?

The faffers convention finally reached Uki pub, where we were all pretty shagged and partook of various kinds of liquid reinforcement:

Mt Warning hotel (before it burnt down!)

Checking out the only bike worth checking out

The northerners took their leave from here. It was great catching up with you folks and good on you for making the effort. Tony, ConRod and I proceeded towards Mullumbimby enjoying scenic backroads along funnily named villages like MooBall and Billinudgel. We turned into Mullumbimby and then we got onto the road that was really the reason we were up here at all. In Oct 2011, when my wife was pregnant, we stayed in a resort up in the Koonyum range behind Mullmbimby and we’d driven along some of the back roads there. I was so impressed that I’d decided to come back on the bike. That backroad behind Mullumbimby was really what inspired the whole trip and finally I was on it, and man was I ON IT!

We came out at Lismore and then smashed the 100 odd kays to Grafton in 50 minutes. The speedway was on in Grafton as we pulled in around 6 but instead we took a photo of this. 

Thunder boomed and lightning cracked in our paths as we headed into the Armidale road. We remained dry but looking at the state of the road, we had missed out on a pretty awesome storm. It was a fucking sensational experience to ride in the thick jungle on a wet road with all sorts of shit littered round, including sticks fucken. We were victorious.

We popped into Dorrigo at dusk having seen at least 5 different mobs of wallabies on the side of the road. Luckily none of them jumped our way.
Paul and Tony had a classy bromantic dinner with candles and shit to celebrate our arrival

Day 3 dawned cool and glorious on Dorrigo and we were joined by MickR and JAF on his beautiful 1000 Sport.

We did a quick and highly enjoyable run down and back up the Waterfall Way to Thora. Here’s a couple of vids:

We pulled back into Juan’s café in Dorrigo and the Raiders motorcycles bloke pulled up with his trick looking umm…something..

Heading out of Dorrigo, JAF had warned us of the local copper who lurks in the shadows and pounces on mild offenders. I reckon he was just playing with us as it didn’t bloody slow him down! He set a cracking pace along the scenic rolling hills and it was a pleasure following him:

We rolled into Armidale to meet Tom (to see the SuperDuke really!) and caught him right in the middle of his favourite TV show, “The Love Boat”. I don’t think he appreciated us barging in like that coz he didn’t say a single word while we were there. His digital bitch on the other hand, couldn’t keep her mouth shut. 
Was good to meet Tom, what a bloody fighter! Carry on the good fight mate and I look forward to following you out on the SuperDuke one day very soon. 

Mick’s Bike

Tom’s Bike

JAF's Bike

Lindsay’s Bike

We headed on our merry way down the Oxley where just after entering the twisties, we met with the rather disturbing sight of a ZX14 sized hole in the bonnet of a grey Commodore. I stopped to survey the scene and was heartened to see the bloke talking to the paramedics. Later enquiry revealed that there didn’t appear to be any spinal or head injuries though the lower half of his body was a mess. The driver of the car was OK and was actually diverting traffic and I spoke to him. He told me the rider crossed onto his side of the road and hit him head-on at a decent pace, flown over the car and landed about 5 metres behind the car. We headed down to Gingers where we saw the Westpac rescue helicopter land in the paddock. Hope the guy makes it OK. Chatting to the paramedics there I baited them with “The speed kills message is just not getting across is it?” just to see their reaction. To my pleasant surprise, one of the blokes said ”Oh I don’t know, a lot of the guys just run out of talent”. We proceeded at a steady and enjoyable pace down the oxley, taking the Bago road to the highway and then slabbing it. We managed 1 final crack before the rain caught us when we took the Wootton Way exit and what a fucken cracker that is. For anyone that’s done it, you know what I’m talking about. For anyone who hasn’t, it’s a pretty special experience unlike any other you’re likely to have on any road.

I feel like I’ve written a lot, posted too many photos and videos and have still failed to convey much. JAF did it so much better. We pulled up at Mick’s place, he just looked at me, smiled broadly and said 
MOTORCYCLES, FUCKEN!

This review was written in October 2012

So I’ve had the Dorso for a few months and have put about 10,000Ks on it, which includes commuting, milk runs, weekend blasts on twisty bitumen and a 7 day motogp trip. Now there’s no point me writing a review on a new Gsxr 1000, there’s 20 thousand of them already on the interwebs, most of them better than what I could come up with. But the dorso is a relatively little-known bike and reviews on it are few and far between so I thought I’d put one up. 

First off, I’m amazed by the fact that in almost 6 months of ownership I have not come across a single other Dorsoduro on the roads, 750 or 1200. I really don’t understand the reason for this because let me tell you, there is nothing bloody wrong with this motorcycle!

Let’s get the important facts out the of way first eh..
Engine = Aprilia-made V-twin 750cc
Power = about 90BHP
Torque = about 80NM at 4500rpm
Weight = about 180KG (Dry)
Fuel capacity = 12L (Pathetic)

Now if you’re a numbers man, you will probably not be too impressed with any of the numbers quoted above but don’t hit that back button just yet coz the Dorso possesses qualities that do not translate into numbers on a fact sheet. 
Also keep in mind that my bike has a fully sikh (sic) Leo Vince system with carbon fibre cans and a Penske rear shock that enhance its riding experience from stock.

Righto, let’s get into what I think about it.

The styling is subjective, of course, but I love it. Here’s some pics, make up your own mind, we will not spend any more time on it.

As you walk around the motorcycle, it is impossible to ignore the build quality of the thing. Everything is gleaming, well finished and perfectly put together. Nothing looks cheap, except the rider when I’m sitting on it.
When you first get on it, it is a tallish motorcycle. I’m 5’11” and it’s just about perfect for me. You sit upright with a slight lean forward and because of wider-than-average-nakedbike handlebars, you sit in a very natural riding position that opens up your chest. The controls fall easily to hand. The seat is narrow, in keeping with its supermoto styling, which seems a bit uncomfortable and unsupportive if you’re not used to this class of bike (and I wasn’t) but you see the rationale behind it as you’re throwing the bike around twisties and sliding up and down the length of it to help weight distribution. The footpegs are quite forward, which I personally don’t like so much but rearsets would look pretty stupid on this bike.

Fire it up and the V-twin music is subdued but wonderful. Not as loud and mechanical as a Ducati Streetfighter nor as clean as a VTR, somewhere in the middle with a unique urgent bark that the Leo Vince’s can take credit for.
The bike has ride by wire throttle and supports 3 ride modes, Rain is for pussies and we will talk no more about it. Touring unleashes all horses with a nice smooth throttle response while Sport unleashes them with the urgency of a man nearing the vinegar stroke. I find Sport mode too jerky for most roads except the super smooth. I do most of my riding in Touring with the occasional flick to Sport if I’m really feeling adventurous. Ride modes can be changed on the go with the flick of a button.

Despite its SuperMoto styling, the bike is not a wheelie machine, the relatively heavy weight and long wheel base acting as an effective launch control. The bike power wheelies easily in 1st gear in Sport mode, not so in Touring, where you’ll need the clutch. Acceleration, while not supersonic, is punchy enough to keep things entertaining. The power delivery is smooth and it pulls nicely till the “Slow-down-you-fucking-hoon light” starts flashing around the 10K mark. However, it does seem to have a flat spot in power delivery around the 6-7K mark, which is more pronounced in some gears.

Most motorcycles I’ve ridden, the engine is the centrepiece of the riding experience and the overwhelming star. This motorcycle is different, it’s the handling that really sets it apart. It is a phenomenally good handling motorcycle. It is easy to throw into corners, is confidence inspiring under brakes and gunning it out of corners is wonderfully addictive. “It does not corner on rails”, but that is not as bad as it sounds because even though it does not feel as firmly planted as some other bikes, it’s incredibly agile and asking it to change lines while fully leaned over in the middle of the corner will not be met with shakes of the head. If I wanted firmly planted, I would’ve kept my K12R, now that fucker DID corner on rails.
Riding hard on some of the twisty roads on the GP trip allowed me to really push the bike and I was extremely happy with the result. Braking is excellent, firm with lots of feel at the lever. The suspension is adjustable at both ends and is well sorted despite the long travel. I got really good feedback from the front though I am not skilled enough to always understand it and translate it into action. 

But it’s a SuperMoto I hear you say, its designed to scratch well.
Yes, of course, but the exceptional thing with this bike is the other things that it does well too. It goes better on the fast sweepers than a SuperMoto has any right to go. Its stable at high speed (I maxxed out at an indicated 210) even though anything over 150 and you really need to hunker down or risk being blown off the back due to the super exposed riding position. It has a 12L fuel tank but riding conservatively down the freeway, you can easily squeeze 220KM out of a tank. Of course, with hard scratching and inner city commuting, that quickly shrinks to about 160KM!
Also, it is passably comfortably and after 3 big days in the saddle I was certainly better off than on my R1. What you don’t want to do, of course, is to point it north from Adelaide and ride to Darwin. Your butt will fall off before Coober Pedy. But as long as the road is twisting and turning, you can easily do some big days on it.
I also don’t have any indications to say this bike is anything but reliable. Starts everytime without a fuss and it’s still early days but I haven’t had any problems at all except a mirror working loose returning from the GP, which was promptly nutted tight.
So, the verdict. It’s a great bike that’ll do me for a while I reckon.

I bought the bike because I wanted something that was agile and fun without needing to break the sound barrier. I also wanted something that I could ride close to its limits while still having a reasonable shot at keeping my licence and anus intact.
The bike is really fun AND confidence inspiring at the same time, not an easy feat to accomplish and I reckon the Aprilia engineers have pulled it off nicely.

Someone go out and ride one and tell me why there aren’t more of these lil fuckers around!

So after the sale of my K12R, I was on the prowl for my next weapon. Due to changes in domestic circumstances (baby!), she who must be obeyed has strapped a GPS tracking device on me and instructed me to never be more than 200K away from home base. Of course, the battery on these things is flaky and may conk off once in a while and I may go off the radar for a bit ;-)

So I was after something that I could have fun on without having to get to wide open spaces and insane speeds everytime. It'll probably be asked to do a quick 500K run every couple of months, a 200K backroads blast every month and a 20K commute once or twice a week.
I had some ideas and I went a test riding, it was a half hour ride on each through the urban jungle but I managed to eke out some corners as well:

1. 2010 Duke 690

This thing had jumped out at me and shouted FUNNNN the first time the thought of changing bikes occurred to me. I test rode it a couple of weeks ago and was blown away. Looks are subjective but I love it, its weird and purposeful yet fun looking

Anyway, lets rewind to the test ride. Riding position is bolt upright and even though i've always only ridden sportsbikes, I was immediately comfortable on it. As some of you might say - "The controls fell easily to hand". Fire it up and the sound is typical thumper, if a little subdued (stock exhaust). On the move, the overwhelming feeling is that of mischief. The bike demands it and being weak-willed, I gave in. Lane changing is a thought rather than an action, overtakes a breeze without requiring downshifts. The front wheel begs to pop up in first and second gears and it feels criminal to keep it on the ground for too long. It was a short run but from what I saw, the brakes were great, suspension was awesome and I could see myself grinning everytime I got on this bike.

2. 2012 Duke 690 - This is the latest version of the Duke (The 4th generation Duke)

The look is a little less extreme, more like a standard nakedbike but still unmistakeably KTM. Sitting on it, its still very light and flicky but more comfortable and supportive. Taking off its apparent that even though KTM have dropped the price on this model they haven’t dropped the fun factor, it’s a mental lil fucker! It feels more lively than the older version, front wheel lifts even more easily and as I stepped off it, I noticed I had the same sadistic grin as after getting off the older one. The brakes and suspension are noticeably shabbier on this one though and not adjustable either. This one is priced 13K brand new compared to around 9-10K for a good example of the older ones. I reckon I’ll save some cash and pick the older one over this, I like the look of the older anyway.

3. 2010 Triumph Street Triple R

I was looking fwd to riding this as all the research I’d done indicated it was a hoot to ride while still being practical and comfortabl enough to do long days on.

Looks wise, it doesn’t have the presence of the Duke, especially the older one. Once on board it feels nice, the bars are narrower than the Dukes. Setting off it feels like a tight unit and howls really nicely when revved. The suspension is nice, the brakes feel a bit soft compared to the Duke. Compared to the Duke, you actually have to think about turning and consciously use counter-steering compared to the Duke, which seemed connected directly to my brain. The bike revs very smoothly in sportsbike fashion, which is slightly uninvolving compared to the Duke, thumping away. Overall, the Street Triple just didn’t involve me in the ride like the Duke.

4. 2010 KTM SMT 990

I had heard lots of good things about his do-it-all bike and even though it is over my budget, I was willing to blow it for something truly special.

It looks like a tourer rather than a fun bike and its tall! Im close to 6ft and I couldn’t get both feet flat on the ground. Feels bulky because of this but as you start moving, the weight disappears and by the end of the 30mins I was chucking this thing around like the Duke and lane filtering with impunity. It really is a very sorted bike, that 990 v-twin engine is very involving and addictive, I loved “surfing the massive waves of torque” on it. It would be the ideal bike to do extended trips through twisties and hwys I reckon. As an out and out fun bike, it cant compare with the Duke, the suspension is quite soft and long travel (its fully adjustable though so can probably be hardened up for a sportier ride). I wont be breaking my budget for this but I love the engine and if that was put in a more sportier package, it would be a hoot I reckon. What, they’ve already done that?