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.
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:
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.
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:
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:
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
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.
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!
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!
Comments |