The Cormanus Chronicles: January 2019

[Cormanus]

Day 1 (628 kms)

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A link to a Google map of the entire ride is [url=https://www.google.com/maps/d/viewer?mid=1GMWGOCREFGTuW2LSbhHivYuN5K2ENPMh&ll=-29.507850099127083%2C152.49727500000006&z=8]here. Individual days can be toggled on and off at the side, and, of course, you can zoom in and out as you please.

It’s just gone 6:00 am and the air is mercifully cool as I run up the ramp onto the Pacific Motorway heading south out of Brisbane bound for New South Wales. I’ve a windproof liner in my mesh jacket and I’m comfortable as the GPS takes me onto a tollway I was hoping to avoid. That’ll teach me not to check its route planning more carefully.
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Hitting the freeway

Just after 7:00 am I’m on the Lions Road heading towards the border. I’m delayed briefly by a crane parked on a bridge so it can unload new strengthening members. I park the bike and get off for a stretch and a chat with the traffic control bloke. I take a photo or two for my grandson who’s pretty keen on any machinery.
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The Lions Road

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Underway again, I make my way south to Casino where I stop for a fine plate of fried eggs, a coffee and fuel for the CB1100. I’m soon on the way south along the Summerland Way. A friend calls it the “Slumberland Way”. Cruel, but fair, I guess, although it’s pretty, seldom busy and the fastest way from Casino to Grafton when you want to get somewhere.

Then it’s on to the glorious Armidale Road. Ninety something kilometres of winding road through Australian bushland. There’s always a bit of traffic, the surface is not brilliant, and it can be difficult to overtake, but it’s always a good ride.

I stop in Ebor for more fuel for the CB1100 and lunch and a cup of tea at Fusspots café.

By now it’s really warmed up and I’m tipping lots of water in at every opportunity. I make a slight detour south of Uralla to check out the tiny town of Kentucky. It’s pretty enough and will be worth a return visit sometime. As I reach Thunderbolts Way large drops of rain begin to fall sporadically. A storm with plenty of rain would be good for everyone, although I hope it manages to hold off until I get to Walcha.

I get slightly damp, but there’s nothing in the storm to excite anyone.

Pterodactyl is waiting patiently in Walcha having had a really hot ride north from Sydney. We provision ourselves for the evening and then head east to the Tia Falls National Park where we pitch our tents, before working our way through the provisions.
Day 2 (407 kms)

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Day 2 Map

I wake early, listen to the birds for a bit and fall asleep again for an hour or so. We make a leisurely breakfast and engage in idle chatter with a bloke living in his van while he rolls around the country taking photos of roads and points of interest for a digital map layer. I wish I could remember the name of the company he worked for.

By the time we get around to packing up, it’s getting hot and the forecast is for high temperatures on the range. We decide to head inland briefly before making our way towards the coast and maybe camping somewhere we can take a swim.
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Did I mention it was stinking hot?

On the way back into Walcha I notice a stand of eucalypt that’s been trashed by a storm. Trees uprooted and huge branches snapped off. I’d overheard a farmer the day saying he’d had 89 mls of rain but it had done awful damage. I understand.
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Storm damage

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I’d buy one just for the sound it makes

After coffee in Walcha and a chat with a bloke with a Kawasaki Z900RS (gee they sound good) we make our way to Ebor where we’ll be almost at the end of the CB1100’s range and will refuel both the bikes and ourselves.

As we get off the bikes at the service station, Pterodactyl says, “Fusspots is closed. What about my lunch?”

I notice the sign on the door of the service station: “Closed due to power outage”.

Ebor is not quite in the middle of nowhere, but it’s 70 plus kms back to Armidale and about 40 plus kms on to Dorrigo. We’ve done at least 230 kms and application of noroomtomove’s First Law of Motion and Fuel Economy makes clear quickly that we’re not going to make it to either place. It’s also really hot by then and the prospect of cooking by the side of the road while we wait to be rescued is not enticing.

On the positive side, there’s a pub in Ebor and it’s open. Failing all else we can settle in for a cleansing ale or two and sort ourselves tomorrow. It’s hot enough for that to be mildly appealing.

We reckon we have about 30-35 kms left in the tanks. I recall there’s always appeared to be fuel at Tyringham, 29 kms away, but it’s a one shop town and I’ve never had occasion to stop. A quick search on the phone gives up the number and I ring. No answer. I hang up and start thinking about the pub. The phone rings and it’s Alice from the Tyringham shop. Yes, she has petrol and yes the power is on.

It’s always fun to push the limits so we set off and make it easily to Tyringham. I rack up the furthest distance I’ve made between refills—265.9 kms—and put 12.94 litres in the tank. I had just under 2 litres remaining. Pterodactyl puts less fuel in. We would have made it to Dorrigo.

Alice tells us she’s not allowed to serve food—she sells petrol, booze and God knows what else, so I can’t think why—so we buy water and a chocolate bar. She seems mystified that no-one told us in Ebor, and doesn’t want to understand that we didn’t really talk to anyone. The place was closed. We eat our chocolate, drink our water, converse with a man clutching a six pack of beer and a flagon of port and push off back down the Armidale Road. It’s as good as the day before.

Our plan is to ride to Ulong where there’s a pretty camp ground with a shower—becoming a necessity given the weather conditions. Pterodactyl has a horror story about travelling from Ulong to Dorrigo, but says it’s worth the ride to Ulong.

It is. The 15 kms or so from Coramba to Ulong is a road rider’s delight. Smooth corners: tight but not so tight that you have to consider first gear. Left, right, left right up the hill. Wonderful.

The camp ground is very pretty, nestling beside a river and there’s plenty of room for us. The shop that collects the fee and hands out the key to the shower is firmly closed and we can’t find the proprietors or raise them on the phone.

Reluctantly—well not that reluctantly given the road—we ride down the hill to Coramba and check into the pub for beer, a shower, more beer, food and sleep. The barman’s a keen motorcyclist and gives us some pointers for good local roads we might enjoy.
Day 3 (400 kms)

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Day 3 map

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Bikes loaded for the day

We’re up a bit earlier and up the road to the local café for breakfast. Then it’s back up and down the road to Ulong just because we can.
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The bloke in the truck was kind and let us past. This is sample of the road to Ulong. It’s all like this.

Back in Coramba we head back towards Nana Glen on the eastern side of the river— a very pretty ride I’ve done once before. On the barman’s recommendation we then turn east along the Bucca Road, turning south on the Central Bucca Road and heading into the chaotic traffic of Coffs Harbour. It is made much worse by the heat.
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On the Central Bucca Road

Just south of Coffs Harbour we turn west slightly in search of a parallel route south. The first part takes us along Hydes Creek Road. The Cormaus Dirtometer, sometimes erratic, is functioning perfectly today, easily finding a stretch of dirt on the way to Bellingen.

On a whim, I decide to take the Bowraville Road south from Bellingen. Signs warned it was closed, but I have a contingency—Martels Road. Narrow, pretty, and—you guessed—a goodly stretch of dirt.

Escaping Martels Road, the old highway gives us a great run south before we turn off to check out Bowraville. Then it’s off to Macksville to find the Taylors Arm Road. Strangely, perhaps, it leads to Taylors Arm where there’s an establishment called “The Pub with No Beer”. It can’t be a pub if it has no beer, can it? We don’t go in to see.
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The whole hideous notion of a pub with no beer comes from a poem, later made famous as a country song. The story is [url=https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Pub_with_No_Beer]here and Slim Dusty’s rendition of the song (featuring its author, Graham Parsons) is:


[video=youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8E0aZ387M_I\" target[/video]


The Dirtometer unerringly fires again and we deal with a long, hot stretch of gravel road. It’s OK dirt as dirt goes, but it’s a relief to get onto the Armidale-Kempsy Road and make good time into Kempsey. We eat at a local bakery, find petrol and figure what we’re going to do that night.

Another shower is mandatory, but when I ring the pub at Long Flat, I’m told there’s accommodation, but no chef. Long Flat has nowhere else to eat. Not going there.

A phone call to the Mount Seaview Resort and Restaurant pays dividends. The proprietor tells me, it’s nearly empty and there’s a chef. We’re off.

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Pretty eucalypts on the Pembrooke Road

A comfortable room, a shower, a good steak. And a glass of beer or two and some red wine. The restaurant boats about 4 tables of people at the high point of the evening.
Day4 (742 kms)

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Day 4 map

The Oxley Highway beckons. There’s 44 glorious kilometres of generally ascending, constantly twisting, road ahead of us. Even better it’s in the bush so there’s plenty of shade on a day promising to be hot.
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Bits of the Oxley Highway

We make the obligatory breakfast stop at Ginger’s Creek for breakfast and then push on up the rest of the hill. It’s been so hot over previous weeks that the bitumen has melted at the top and there’s a stretch treacherous for motorcyclists. We’ve read about it and the stretch is marked so we don’t fall off.

It’s stinking hot on the range and we race to Walcha, refuel, guzzle water and say our farewells.

I try a new back road to keep me off the highway to Armidale. The Dirtometer is working well, but it’s a mere 9 kms and in good condition.

More chocolate, water and petrol in Tyringham and the third trip down the Armidale Road in four days. It was just as good as it’s two predecessors.
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Tyringham

Food, lots more water, and tea and a scone in Grafton and I decide to head for home, heading east from Casino to be on the motorway by the time Skippy is hopping up for evening recreation.
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This is not a particularly good photo, but it is the spectacular view from the old highway as you come over a hill overlooking Byron Bay. That’s the South Pacific Ocean you can see. The Headland is Cape Byron, the eastern-most point of mainland Australia.

I’m home by 8:00 pm. 2,176 kms, 104 litres of fuel at 4.78 litres/100 kms.

Good company and yet another good ride.

[Rocky_imp]

I always love your road trip stories. Excellent pictures and commentary
Although I haven't been to those specific places, I've been to Australia and love seeing the countryside.
I tip my helmet to you for enduring the intense heat you are having. It was quite hot when we were there, but nothing like what's happening now!
Stay safe.

[peterbaron]

, love long distance/multi days trips and reports. Well done.

[the Ferret]

I agree with Rocky. Reading your road tales are a pleasure and the pics add immeasurable value.

Glad to see you and the old bird are still getting away for rides now and then.

Btw those are two great looking motorcycles.

[Django]

I really enjoy your chronicles! Keep on doing that good work!

[GoldOxide_imp]

That was very entertaining Corm - thanks for sharing. I reckon the tree roots don't go deep into the hot soil, so they are washed up from the storm?

BTW: What is a female bloke called?

[the Ferret]

Bird?

[GoldOxide_imp]

Bird?

Okay, byrd.

[the Ferret]

Just a guess, waiting on Cormanus for the real answer

[GoldOxide_imp]

da.

From a North American point-of-view "bloke" almost sounds like "loser" (in a sorry, but friendly way), while "byrd" almost sounds like "crazy" or "wild".