I was pumped for the weekend and was looking forward to bush bashing on the Husky but at the last minute it’s fickle Italian nature surfaced and while it didn’t break down, it gave me enough of a scare that I didn’t trust it to carry me through a thousand KMs, some of it in remote bushland. It went to the shop and wasn’t ready in time for the trip but I was throbbing and wasn’t going to let the lack of lube deter me. I went in dry, on my Honda CBR600RR.
Ben was leading us into MacPass but that only lasted a couple of corners as his ambition quickly outweighed the talent of his DR. Dan went screaming past with me in hot pursuit. I followed Dan for a bit and was highly entertained and impressed by the way he was chucking that Super-Tenere around the tight bends of Mac-Pass. I could see him physically man handle the big bike around and was happy to enjoy the spectacle but he must’ve been feeling the pressure of me on his tail so he kicked me through and we both proceeded to enjoy ourselves thoroughly.
We filled up at Kiama where a pretty young lady complained to me about the heat. I wanted to point out that her tight black leather skirt probably wasnt helping the ventilation situation but she didn’t look she’d understand the physics of it.
Coming into Nowra, Dan and I were stopped at a traffic light when Pete came screaming in and did a squeaky stoppie on the loaded DR. It was so funny that we all, including the young couple in the car next to us, burst out laughing. And Dan took matters forward by wheelieeing away from the lights on the Super Ten! What can I say, my mates are hoons.
Down on the coast it was hot and humid and combined with having to go painfully slow on the Princes Hwy, we both faded badly. At Milton we pulled in, drank litres of Gatorade and sat in the shade of the Tenere. It was 4:30PM and Dan was supposed to go home but he decided, wisely, to spend the night with us at Bendalong. The road into Bendlong was Bendy and long, which I assume is how the place gets its name. Ben & Pete were hosts par excellence and had already organised a great Barbie and plenty of beer for us. That first beer went down quicker than Karel Abraham at the Czech GP. Then we all went for a nice romantic walk on the beach. We didn’t hold hands but the homo was strong.
Tall tales were told over a roaring fire and many beers. And Pete offered me his DR to go exploring the bush the next day. For this, I will be eternally grateful to BrotherPete as the next day was one of the best days I’ve had on a motorcycle.
Adam had joined us at some point in the night having ridden down from Sydney in the dark and the next morning he made his intentions for the day clear by cracking open a beer at 7:30AM.
Dan had left quietly at 5AM after receiving death threats from his wife the previous night. After a hearty non-alcoholic breakfast, Ben and I headed out to explore with a rough plan and a strong will.
That will was severely tested 5 minutes into the ride as we came across a creek crossing that looked packed with hazards.
We got back to Bendalong covered in mud and grins, washed the bikes and proceeded to tell Pete all about our adventures over beers. I could see he was jealous but also took a pride in his contribution to my happiness!