The Queensland/New South Wales Chapter of the CB1100 Forum

[Cormanus]

Again, thank you all for the kind words.

ClassicVW So far as I know it was part of the display. I think they sold only, booze, food, booze, coffee and booze. Oh, and accommodation.

EmptySea I'll do what I can to aid your adaptation. The next instalment is ready to go.

Aussie If the fancy takes you, let us now and we'll see about a gathering. Enzo's moving your way so maybe you could bring him.

Redbirds and anyone else for that matter, we'd love to see you.

Ferret My preference would be to have eaten the fries without either gravy or ketchup. Just salt. But us ride report writers have to make sacrifices. As you know only too well.
Part 3—Tuesday 12 August 2014

The day’s [url=http://goo.gl/maps/l1E5g]map.

When I was a kid, an enterprising electrical manufacturing company called itself Linda. It had a big hit with its electric blanket, which it sold with the slogan “Sleep wonderfully warm with Linda”. It was bloody cold when I woke; Linda was nowhere to be seen, but there was an electric blanket of indeterminate heritage. I was very glad of it.

By 9.30 am were 80 kms away in Ebor. My weather app showed this happy sight.


A promised maximum of 9°C; a current temperature of 5.6°C which was said to feel like 0.3°C. We stopped for very ordinary bacon and eggs and acceptable coffee. Finishing a mouthful, Pterodactyl said, “Did you see the barman’s face when we ordered red wine last night?”

“No.” For some reason, when I’m travelling with Pterodactyl, my memory is not what it should be, particularly early in the morning.

He looked at me pityingly.

“You know. We said we’d have the Shiraz and he just looked at us. Then he went and got three bottles of red, plonked them on the bar and said, ‘Which one of those?’ The whole bar went quiet and everyone looked at us as if we were from another planet.”

Gradually my memory returned. All eyes in the bar had swivelled towards us as if to curiosities in the zoo. Was that the faint twang of banjo in the background?

I was saved from further embarrassment by the arrival of a large and noisy Honda VTX1800 pulling up outside. The rider and his partner were heading to Brisbane via Armidale. It was a long haul, about 550 kms along the top of the Great Dividing Range; they were going to be horribly cold; and they didn’t look to me like they were truly prepared for it.

We were in Ebor because our plan for the day was to ride the Armidale-Kempsey Road which would take us from the highlands back to the (warmer) coast. Said to be very beautiful, this bit of the trip was contingent on reasonable weather as 90 plus kms of the road is unsealed and the idea of that much downhill dirt in the wet held no appeal; indeed, it would have required the formulation of another plan.

The day had dawned fine, but cloudy. There was no tea to be had at the Guyra Hotel and we figured it would be a good plan to make the 80 km trip to Ebor, near the top of the Armidale-Kempsey Road where we could breakfast and refuel to make sure we had enough for the planned route. It was a good, fast road, although we saw more than the odd kangaroo. Charming for tourists, perhaps; unpredictable and potentially lethal for motorcyclists. There was occasional fog and even more occasional patches of sun, so by the time we got to Ebor and Fusspots Café the ends of my middle fingers were again very cold.

By the time we’d eaten and refuelled, the riders of the VTX1800 had finished eating and were geared up. They fell in behind as we rode out of town but were more enthusiastic about ignoring the posted speed limit than me and quickly shot past. Pterodactyl didn’t set off after them, so I assume he agreed. They were well ahead of us by the time we reached the junction of the Armidale-Kempsey Road.

It’s another pretty road, but then I’m partial to Australian bush, particularly as it occurs on the sides of mountains. I can lose myself in long day dreams about the fellows who first forged the roads through here and how damnably tough it must have been. My partiality increases as the sun makes increasingly frequent appearances and I contemplate mercury rising in the thermometer.

We were almost immediately off downhill and it wasn’t long before we were into the dirt. Luckily the steepest kilometre or so of it was covered with bitumen Otherwise it was a good surface and dry, except for occasional patches of thick, powdery bull dust. It wasn’t long before the bikes were covered in it.


The main risk was some galah in a 4WD bowling around a blind corner too quickly. As it happened we met only one, and we were far enough away from the corner for it not to be a threat.

After a while we stopped. I don’t remember why; maybe just because we could.


It was time for some action photography.




We pressed on, down through the dry Australian Eucalypt forest.




Occasionally we’d stop for a photo opportunity




The photo quota is up, so ...

Here ends Part 3.

[Rick Froscheiser_imp]

Great pictures and story to go with them. Thanks for sharing them with us.
Ride safe my friend

[Cormanus]

Thank you, Rick. I've come to enjoy the sharing as well as the riding. How's that for a win-win?

[the Ferret]

"It’s another pretty road, but then I’m partial to Australian bush, particularly as it occurs on the sides of mountains. I can lose myself in long day dreams about the fellows who first forged the roads through here and how damnably tough it must have been."

I often have the same thoughts about the pioneers who settled this country. How did they get a wagon with all their possessions over this mountain, through this forest, across this river. How difficult their lives must have been, and how easy we have it now. Need food? There's a restaurant, need shelter, there's a motel up ahead, need to cover 500 miles? Instead of 3 months we can do that in one day if we want to push a little bit. Big river to cross, just use the bridge.

Very cool pics and report. Love the captures in the mirrors.

[Pterodactyl_imp]

"It’s another pretty road, but then I’m partial to Australian bush, particularly as it occurs on the sides of mountains. I can lose myself in long day dreams about the fellows who first forged the roads through here and how damnably tough it must have been."

I often have the same thoughts about the pioneers who settled this country. How did they get a wagon with all their possessions over this mountain, through this forest, across this river. How difficult their lives must have been, and how easy we have it now. Need food? There's a restaurant, need shelter, there's a motel up ahead, need to cover 500 miles? Instead of 3 months we can do that in one day if we want to push a little bit. Big river to cross, just use the bridge.

Very cool pics and report. Love the captures in the mirrors.

Well said ferret. Something we, or some of us at least, forget in our mostly urban society.

Good stuff Cormanus.

Cheers

[Cormanus]

Part 4—Tuesday 12 August 2014

Galas in 4WDs was one problem; the other was the prevalence of livestock wandering about on the road. Often they looked like they didn’t appreciate being interrupted.




We forged on, eventually coming to the valley along the upper reaches of the Macleay River.




I thought wistfully of stopping, producing a thermos and having a cup of tea while contemplate the river. Another dream: I wasn’t carrying a thermos.

Pterodactyl was in front of me and I startled a young cow which then insisted on running along the road in front of me. I probably could have chased it all the way to Bellbrook and established its top speed, but I kept stopping in the hope it would move far enough off the road that I could pass it without startling it. It obviously felt like being chased and ran along happily in front of me for quite a way before finally leaving the road.

By then the Pterodactyl was a long way ahead, although I didn’t know it. I spent the next 20 or so kilometres wondering whether he’d pulled off the road and I hadn’t seen him or would be waiting for me down the track. I decided to keep going and not long afterwards returned to the sealed road and allowed myself to ride hard onto the small town of Bellbrook. There, waiting for me in front of the local pub was Pterodactyl.


I’m not sure why, but he looked happier than me about it.


As we rested briefly, I admired the dust collected on Pterodactyl’s oil cooler


A car full of locals stopped, climbed out and admired the bikes. I realised with some alarm that they were all clutching ‘travellers’—Australian for beers carried in the car to quench the thirst between watering holes. Amusing, at least until you realise the likelihood that these blokes are working on ‘travellers’ for much of the day bringing about a gradual but certain reduction in driving capacity. Wouldn’t want to meet them later in the day.

The rest of the afternoon was uneventful except for two things. The first was the really excellent road from Bellbrook to Kempsey which, after carefully negotiating 90 plus kilometres of dirt down the hill, was truly a delight. We both indulged ourselves with an absence of traffic and some quick riding.

The second thing was that my enjoyment of this road was very slightly marred by the real wheel starting to slide out from under me on a right-hand corner. I think I hit a rock because the tyres gripped again immediately. But it caused me to slow down for a bit and contemplate how I managed right-hand corners in particular. This concern was to stay with me most of the way home.

With the benefit of hindsight, I wonder whether my subsequent insistence that I must have hit a rock or gravel or something didn’t plant the seeds of [url=http://cb1100forum.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=3758]this splendid rant in Pterodactyl’s mind to germinate and bloom at Lemming corner on the way home.

In any event, it was my responsibility entirely.

We spent the evening in South West Rocks, a lovely spot and a favourite haunt of Pterodactyl’s. I thought the fish and chips ordinary—there was no gravy on the chips this time, Ferret—and my comrade worked assiduously on his sustained assault on my memory capacity.

Sleep again came easily.

Part 4 ends here.

[Cormanus]

Part 5—Wednesday 13 August 2014

Wednesday dawned clear, sunny and cold. Pterodactyl exhibited a decided reluctance to get out of bed. I wondered whether he had slightly over-reached himself in his assault on my memory cells.

This was to be our final day together and we intended ride the Oxley Highway, said to have more corners than the Dragon and almost certainly one of the best riding roads in Australia. I’d ridden it once before, but only downwards (from west to east) and the idea of having a go at it the ‘right’ way was very appealing. We planned to leave from Wauchope in the east and head about 100 kms up the road before turning back to spend the night in Wauchope. The reason? After about 100kms the Oxley straightens out and turns into another straight Australian alpine road. Neither of us really wanted to spend another night in the cold of the New England Plateau and Wauchope offered an altogether better point to start our respective journeys home.

The day’s [url=http://goo.gl/maps/MLB14]map is here.

Breakfast in a local café allowed the sun to do its work and restored us a bit.

Well travelled bikes.


Pterodactyl under way


We then rode around Trial Bay to inspect Arakoon and the old Trial Bay Goal. This first picture looks across the bay to South West Rocks.




We then headed off to ride through Crescent Head before turning south to Wauchope. These pictures were taken beside the Macleay River, one of a number of beautiful rivers in northern NSW. The most northerly of them is the Brisbane River in Queensland.




At Crescent Head we stopped to ingest water and watch the surfers.


I finally managed to capture this common occurrence


He spent about 5 minutes walking around the bikes looking at them.

Mental preparation for the road ahead


We spent a bit of time on the Pacific Highway to get to a place called Pembroke, where we turned off to Wauchope. Never again. It would be a good ride but the surface is awful and we were very pleased to get off the road. The clouds were closing in; by the time we got to the petrol station in Wauchope rain was looking imminent. We weren’t enthusiastic, but the locals were over the moon at the prospect of rain and we realised we’d have to take one for the team. And we did.

Wet weathers on, we headed for the hills. Almost as soon as we hit the outskirts of Wauchope the rain stopped and we had a clear run across Long Flat and into the foothills of the Great Dividing Range.

It’s a fabulous road: well marked, good surface, endless corners and glorious Australian Bush. There’s not much time to ponder the achievements of our ancestors here; your concentration has to be intense. But it’s worth it.

After about 83 kms we arrived at the Ginger’s Creef Café, the only stop on the way to Walcha. My plan had been to go to the end point of the ride then head back to Ginger’s Creek, but Pterodactyl was in the lead and decided to stop. There were a couple of other bikes there, one of which was a Honda CB500X owned by a man who lived locally and boasted quietly about the wonderful circuits he gets to ride regularly. He was pulling on layer after layer of gear for the final climb onto the plateau.

By the time we’d had a coffee and a bite to eat, the rain had arrived and was falling steadily so we decided to skip the final 20 kms and head back down the hill. It rained much of the way, but it wasn’t such a bad ride. We had the road largely to ourselves and went along at our own pace.

When we pulled into the Wauchope Motel, I realised the top nut on my steering was loose again, so I decided to light out for a motorcycle shop I’d seen on the way to see whether there was a mechanic who could tell me what to do about it. I arrived as the shop was closing and the bloke who appeared to be the owner was wheeling the last of the bikes inside. He told me what I needed to do, then almost insisted on fixing it for me. Fifteen minutes later he’d taken the bars out of the risers and applied a proper wrench to the nut. Fixed. I thanked him profusely, gave him $20 (all he would take) and went on my way. Yet again I’m grateful for the great brotherhood of motorcyclists.

We had an OK dinner and another bottle of red in the bistro at the Wauchope Hotel and a relatively early night.

End of Part 5

Part 6—Thursday 14 August 2014

Pterodactyl was in striking distance of Sydney and I spent bits of the night when I was awake wondering whether I would make the 700 km trip home as I wasn’t altogether sure I wanted to head up onto the New England Plateau again. Pterodactyl counselled me to take a bit longer to get home. I was not persuaded and decided to leave it open. No matter what, I intended to ride a back road from Coff’s Harbour to Grafton where I’d have to make the decision about what to do.

We checked out and rode down the road to get breakfast on a chilly and gloomy morning. After eggs and coffee we said farewell.

Pterodactyl’s excellent discussion arising from an event on the way home is [url=http://cb1100forum.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=3758]here; my report on my trip home is still to come.

He’s a great riding companion is Pterodactyl. We have plenty of laughs. The next get together will be for the Lions TT in early October; almost immediately after that we plan to make the trek to Phillip Island for the Australian leg of the MotoGP. It’s good to have things to look forward to.

[Rick Froscheiser_imp]

I am really enjoying the pictures and the story that goes with them. It's cool to hear you have more rides planned. Thanks for sharing with us.

[the Ferret]

Just awesome stuff Cormanus. Love reading your reports and viewing the outstanding pics.

I love the image above the slippery when wet placard...lol whoa... Out of control!

I also can't believe Ptero ran off and left you for a beer!

[Cormanus]

Its a great sign. My middle son used to call it the "drunk drivers" sign. It's also a terrible distraction because you can spend time wondering whether you could actually achieve those skid marks.

Pterodactyl and I have a sort of agreement that we'll check in every so often. Given how much fun in had when I hit the pavement again, I'm not surprised he didn't want to stop.