A bit of a ride: back on the road

[emptysea]

Love the pictures of the CB1100s in the snow and by the river.

Let Jalalski know that I have a friend who rode his Sprint ST to Alaska and used a car tire on the rear to do it. He, too, had to do "the hop" to mount his bike..maybe it's a Triumph thing. He made a nice little report about it here http://advrider.com/forums/showthread.php?t=1009331

Also, you included two pictures that are, to me, remarkably reminiscent of photos I have from my trip to Robbinsville, NC. I'm going to look for them later and perhaps post them here. Of course, you will have a chance to re-create them yourself in a few months.

[the Ferret]

Like the other I really appreciate the efforts on your ride reports. Just outstanding.

On a side note coming from the Highway saferyy field I always look at the signs in your reports. I loved the GIVE WAY sign beside Ptero in the one pic. The equivalent of our YIELD sign.

And lastly I'd love to see what Optiglanz would do on your pipes lol

[redbirds_imp]

The story line, photos and maps, all fantastic.

[Cormanus]

Some photos

I forgot as I was writing the earlier reports that Jalalski had kindly agreed to my using any of his photos in this report. I will draw on them extensively later; but, for the moment, here’s some he took with his GoPro on Days 7 & 8.




Day 7: Jamberoo Valley


Leaving Cooma


Approaching Jindabyne with Lake Jindabyne in the background. The vigilant will catch a glimpse of the snow on the mountains


At the ranger station, Kosciuszko National Park






Coming into the snow and stopping at Dead Horse Gap

Now, I'd better stop procrastinating and get us moving again.

[Cormanus]

Day 9: Omeo-Phillip Island

433 kms

[url=https://www.google.com/maps/d/edit?mid=zwzS5Q1Lo7Yk.kAz5bZKTTuLM]

Day 9, 16 October, dawned fine and clear. A bit cool, but glorious. We decided to forgo breakfast in Omeo and enjoy a ride to Bruthen before refuelling the bikes and ourselves.


About to head out

I didn’t realise it at the time, but things started to go wrong from the moment Pterodactyl took to the road a few moments ahead of Jalalski and me. By the time we left, Pterodactyl was out of sight and I immediately started wondering whether he’d simply gone ahead or decided on a wee tour of Omeo while he waited for us. I was in the lead and I assumed the former and set off for Bruthen.


Leaving Omeo


Leaving Omeo (courtesy of Jalalski)

At Swifts Creek Jalalski and I stopped and tried calling Pterodactyl. I sent a text as well. He responded quickly from ahead of us somewhere and I told him to keep going; we’d join him at Bruthen.

Off we went again and, although we were getting along at the speed limit, we were often overtaken by chaps in full leathers in a big, big hurry. Not far past Ensay, the road gets good again. What could be better—beautiful sunny day, a fine road to ride on, pretty stream running along beside it; not too much traffic. All was good.


A group of bikers pass us

Courtesy of Jalalski, some photos of the Great Alpine Road south of Ensay.






A group of masterly looking riders, mostly on Ducatis, hurtled past. I admired their skill and resisted landing myself in the river trying to give chase. Not long afterwards though, we came to the tail-end Charlie pulled up beside the road. We stopped to see if he was all right.

His rear brake had decided to lock itself on which he said made riding the bike hard. Luckily he figured he could disconnect it and ride with only a front brake and Jalalski had the necessary tool to help him fix it. He was soon on his way.

While he was effecting repairs, my helmet which I’d sat carefully on the seat of my bike decided it wasn’t happy and jumped onto the road before rolling enthusiastically down the steep embankment towards the river. Luckily it came to rest before being forced to swim. It was a difficult but not impossible climb to recover it. By the time I got back to the top, though, I realised I was very irritable indeed.

As we rode the rest of the way to Bruthen, I realised I should have had breakfast before we left Omeo. A wee pre-breakfast jaunt turned out to be too long; I’d let my blood-sugar level get way too low and the day was not going at all well. Not true, really. The weather was OK and I was riding the CB, so it shouldn’t have been all bad. But it was.
Pterodactyl was, meanwhile, sunning himself in Bruthen waiting for us. He was very patient; I’ll give him that. He was also rewarded when he came to leave and realised he’d left the ignition switched on and didn’t have enough power in the battery to start the bike. The younger, fitter, stronger team of Ducatti riders Jalalski and I had helped pushed us out of the way and gave Pterodactyl a push start.

Attentive readers will recall that the Pterodactyl’s tail light globe was blown on the day we left Sydney (day 1 for him but day 7 for me) and will be concerned at this point that his CB1100 (with a mere 40,000 kms on the clock) was suffering a major electrical meltdown. Have no fear, folks. The new tail light was holding up well and Pterodactyl suffered not another moment of battery weakness while we were riding together.

But I digress.

I’m afraid the rest of the ride wasn’t very interesting. Aside from my general grumpiness, we were now largely travelling on freeway across flat and not particularly interesting country. There was a bit of wind blowing from straight ahead of us. There were also a good few police photographers with their speed cameras hoping for hapless motorcyclists heading for Phillip Island. My helmet continued its recalcitrant behaviour jumping off almost anything I put it on, until I accepted the need to put it on the ground.

I have to confess, though, to a certain excitement as we approached Phillip Island and the knowledge that next morning, along with a few of my new best friends, I’d be watching the best of the best weaving their way around the track. Of course we stopped at the wrong place to gain entry and had to wait a long time to find out we needed to be somewhere else.

I wasn’t prepared at all for how pretty a place it is. The lower point of the track is right next to Bass Strait—for those who follow ocean racing, the scene of many a disaster in the annual Sydney-Hobart Yacht Race and renown for the short, sharp and dangerous seas it can produce. From the campground, we looked across turns 1 and 2 of the track and out into Bass Strait. We had a good view of Cape Woolamai, the south east tip of the island, as we set up our tents and made camp.


Camp Phillip Island. From left right, the tents of Pterodactyl, Cormanus and Jalalski. Cape Woolamai in the background behind one of the spectator stands

Tents up, it was time for a beer. I decided to go foraging and found my way to the other side of a fence where I came face to face with the beer shop and the curiosity of what happens when a gaggle of the forces of arrant stupidity come together. After the preliminaries, the conversation went something like this:

“Could I have 6 cans of beer, please?”

“I’m sorry, I’m only allowed to sell you 4. They have to be open and it’ll cost you $28.”

As I started to say something profound like “W-a-a-a-a!?” she said, “But, if you walk back to the other side of the fence where you’re in the camping area not in the track precincts, I can sell you a slab for $54.”

‘Slab’ is Australian for a carton of 24 cans/bottles/other receptacles of beer.

“Right,” I said and trudged around to the other side of the fence, approached the window, talked to my new best friend about the stupidity of the prevailing laws, organised the slab and realised my wallet was back at the campground.

“Hold that carton. I’ll be back.” My day was just getting better and better.

Eventually, after what seemed like an eon, I made it back to the tent clutching the slab. That’s it in front of Pterodactyl’s bike. That’s him in the background, lowering the level of a can.



A squall blew close by.



I’ve no idea why I’m still in my wet weather gear or why I’m posing like an idiot



We had a deeply ordinary dinner from the friendly and hard-working staff of the food van and washed it down with a couple more beers. Later Pterodactyl decided we should have a warming tot of Sailor Jerrys 80-proof spiced rum (see [url=http://cb1100forum.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=4453&pid=66989#pid66989]here). Jalalski held out his mug.

“Say when,” said Pterodactyl and started pouring.

After enough time for me to start worrying whether there’d be any left for me, Pterodactyl said, “I said to say when.”

“I’m Russian,” said Jalalski as if that explained everything.

Once more the rum was very welcome and sleep came easily.

[the Ferret]

The view leaving Omeo is just outstanding.

Love your ride reports Cormanus, so much so I'll forgive the rainbow pic with the jelly fish coming out of your hat lol..j/k my friend, awesome report as usual.

[CA200_imp]

Really enjoyed this!! Keep it up the good work.

[silverbub_imp]

Thank You for keeping some of us from early winter insanity due to stored bikes!...a bike travel journal/photos well enjoyed!...Mr. ferret...Thanks to you for the BIG chuckle about the "jelly-fish" rising from the stocking cap!...think I will soon unplug from the site & do some "work" on my "slab"!

[metallyguitarded_imp]

Another book I'm ready to buy if you ever get around to putting it altogether. Great read. But what would the title be? Hmmm..."On the Road with Cormanus and Pterodactyl: The Other Thunder from Down Under." I think it has a nice ring to it and would be sure to bring in the fairer sex. Even if only by deception.

[emptysea]

Your reports have motivated me to pursue the idea of some moto-camping trips in the future, probably with my son as my wife has no interesting combining the two activities. I hope that, on those future trips, we are able to capture half the beauty you have presented in these reports. I'm amazed and awed with every new report you post. Thank you.