I am extremely fortunate to have a great bunch of mates. Some of them ride motorcycles. The relationship I share with my riding mates is qualitatively different from the one I have with the non-riding ones. When you ride a motorcycle hard and fast on a twisty mountain road, peeling into corners at over twice the speed the government says you should, inches behind your mate who, like you, is trusting his life to 4 square inches of black rubber on the very edge of his tyre, it is inevitable that there develops a deep trust, a mutual respect, an unspoken bond, an acknowledgement that you both know and it doesn’t need to be said.
Such a friendship is not automatically granted to you as soon as you ride out of a motorcycle dealership, basking in the glory of your reflection in the shop window. Buying a motorcycle does not bestow upon you any special status in a brotherhood. Friendly motorcyclists may nod at you as they pass, people on the internet may welcome you into their club, you may even ride through the city streets with your “mob”, terrorising citizens and high fiving your “mates” at traffic lights. But a motorcycle friendship is formed not in the passive anonymity of the internet or the sterility of city streets. It cultivates over time, out on country roads battling forces of nature, testing the limits of adhesion while pitting science against faith and sitting in lonely pubs at the end of a hard day sharing war stories over pints. And sometimes they develop from keeping each other entertained as you wait for the Westpac rescue helicopter to deliver you from the mess you’ve got yourselves into.
Ben Akhurst was the first guy from BikeMe I rode with. With a beguiling gentleness and a respectful reservedness, he struck me as a thorough gentleman from the first time I met him. Over the years I have got to know him better and he has never proved my first impression wrong.
I have known Ben’s brother, Pete, for only a short while. Pete’s hate for humans is only redeemed by his love of animals.
A big unit with size 17 feet, his best physical feature is likely hidden under clothes. But the birds know….
I’d been itching to do a trip in the dirt for a while so when Ben & Pete came up with the idea of basing ourselves at their family holiday house at Bendalong on the south coast and riding around the plentiful bush around it, I said yes faster than Mary, Princess of Denmark.
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.
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 & Pete were on their DR650s and Dan from BikeMe also joined the 3 of us on Friday morning on his Super Tenere. We took the scenic route to MacPass with the obligatory river crossing.
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.
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 came down Jamberoo Mountain road, which is probably one of the most technical stretches of road I’ve ever ridden. Tightening corners, steep gradient, debris on the road, no run-off, bad visibility through thick rainforest, this one’s got everything. I always keep plenty in reserve on this road.
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.
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.
From Nowra, Ben and Pete went straight ahead towards Bendalong while Dan and I headed up the Nerriga road. Or more appropriately, the Nerriga Racetrack. Its 60KM from Nowra to Nerriga consisting of long sweepers and short straights. If your average speed is below 150KMPH in this section, you’re doing it wrong. Dan had never been down this road and I knew exactly how he was feeling as we pulled into Nerriga pub. He was drained, relieved and ecstatic all at once. This road is just relentless speed. For half an hour, you’re in 6th gear with the throttle pinned. Corners come and go but you don’t back off, you just lean into them. The concentration required to run those speeds for that long on a twisty road is intense and for a few minutes after arriving at Nerriga pub, you just stare into your beer and relive that ride in your mind. Just decompressing, like a diver coming up from the depths.
After an excellent lunch and beers, we continued over the dirt to Braidwood and then had an absolutely rollicking time down the Kings highway to Batemans Bay. The Kings Hwy is a sensational road. The surface is racetrack smooth, well cambered and the bends are varied but carved out with impeccable precision. Dan and I were in the zone and weren’t going to let anything get in the way of our zen. At one point we came upon a long line of cars stuck behind a truck creeping down the tightest part of the road, that crosses a range. We raced each other past the cars, me overtaking from the left, him down the right. He blew past me just as I was coming out onto the right lane but I got him soon after. Was an epic run!
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.
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 ummmmed and aahed for about 20 minutes and then crossed over in 20 seconds! When we crossed this same creek on the way back, we laughed at ourselves for taking it so seriously! But we were different people by then. We were to grow much as dirt riders over the next few hours. Ben’s insatiable curiosity took us down tracks that weren’t even tracks. We got stuck in mud, fell over in puddles, jumped the jumps, whupped the whupps and had the time of our lives.
We came out at Sussex Inlet, had a beer and a laugh with some old ladies who were selling raffle tickets and then disappeared back into the bush. We didn’t leave any trail in Conjola National Park unmolested. If there was a trail, we went down it. Powerline trails, rocky trails, sandy trails, bushy trails, muddy trails, thorny trails and even NO trails, none was spared.
On the way back we were hanging the back out like pros, jumping off humps and generally having way more fun than the government would approve of. If having too much fun was a crime, we’d be given the death penalty.
The DR? what a surprise! It just does everything. This 30 year old design is rock solid and though the weight works against it in tight stuff, it got us through everything we threw at it and without any drama. I had low expectations of it but was very impressed. I can only imagine how much better the Husky might've been with its lower weight and better suspension.
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!
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!
Another day, another bonfire, more beers, more sausages, more stories. When it started raining on us, in a weird unspoken pact we all took it upon ourselves to keep the fire going despite the rain. In the end we built such a monster fire that it burnt through the night and was still warm in the morning! In Ben & Pete I found fellow connoisseurs of fire. We stared into it, talked about it, shuffled and adjusted it like baby’s clothing, getting it just right. It’s weird I know, but it’s just addictive, working on a fire.
Ben & Pete stayed on but I headed home the next day. I didn’t stop anywhere and had a smooth and relaxing run through Kangaroo Valley and MacPass. I was home well in time to watch the most exciting MotoGP race in recent history. It was a fitting finale to an epic weekend!
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