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The best laid schemes … gang aft agley
Part 1—In which Cormanus remounts the bike
The original map is [url=https://drive.google.com/open?id=1Umn4GOjrV3CPTKp6rfpjgz9-mXI&usp=sharing]here
There has been, as they say in the outback, a bit of a dry spell for Cormanus and his CB1100. There are good reasons for it—including a month or so away—but it had left me with a strong feeling that something important was missing from life.
It was with some enthusiasm, then, that I greeted Thursday 1 September when, weather permitting, I could get on the bike for a full day’s ride.
The day dawned glorious, albeit a bit chilly; but that was nothing a considered layering wouldn’t deal with. So I saw my wife off to work, put on the gear, programmed the GPS, climbed on to the CB and headed out the gate.
It was quickly to become clear that the riding gods were not just watching but doing so with a certain sardonic malevolence.
Warning number one was when the Bluetooth dongle that connects my telephone (GPS) and my earphones didn’t quite work. I stopped and fixed it.
Warning number 2 was when I realised I’d neglected to put the AirHawk cushion on the seat—I knew my butt’d be sore if I made it through the day I was planning; but by then I was heading away from home and nothing, but nothing, was going to send me back there.
Warning number 3 came after 35 kms or so down the freeway when I’d turned off to head for the hills. Of course, I was starting to feel much, much better about life. Simple things are good.
I stopped for fuel, paid the bill, walked outside, got on the bike, pressed the starter … whirr, whirr, click. Pressed it again … click.
A bit of history. The bike is a 2011 model. I bought it second hand in September 2013 with 2079 kms on the clock. I’ve had for nearly three years and ridden more than 45,000 kms on it. My recollection is that, in spite of being a 2011 model, it wasn’t purchased new until May 2013. So it was nearly two years old when ostensibly new and is now nearly 5 years old. I’ve not replaced the battery. And I suspect the one making odd noises was original.
A five-year old battery owes me nothing.
While it has been a little temperamental since I got home at the end of July, it had started fine that morning. It had just been run for 30 or so minutes, so it should have been charged. The ‘whirr, whirr, click’ suggested it wasn’t.
So I swore. Got off the bike. Swore. Pushed it up the slight incline, parked it and consulted Google for the nearest Honda dealer. Practised swearing again. Thirteen kms back up the motorway.
Got the gear back on, rolled down the slight hill and jump started the bike. Rode the 13 kms, parked the bike, turned it off, turned it on, pressed the starter … ‘Whirr, whirr, v‑r‑r‑r‑rooooooom!’
Repeat. Same result.
What to do? I’m basically cheap. Why buy a new battery if I don’t really need one? Reflect, Cormanus, reflect … It’s clearly becoming temperamental and I ride a lot on my own; I’d have no hope of pushing it and jumping on to start it on my own on the flat and I can’t always be guaranteed a hill.
I went inside and bought a new battery. The nice young lady came outside and checked to make sure it would fit. It did and I said I’d put in myself. I hadn’t paid, so I offered my keys as surety and said I’d put it in then come and pay. I was offended when she took them without question. Do I look that shifty?
Positive terminal: no problems, although even the tiny extra thickness of the terminal for the battery tender made it a bit of a stretch to get the bolt to bite on the nut. A finger on the nut to lift it a micron or two did the trick.
Negative terminal: ‘clunk!’ The bolt slipped out and into the battery tray.
Disconnect the positive terminal. Remove the battery. Find the bolt.
Repeat.
Drag the bike backwards up a slight incline to a flat bit. Put it on the centre stand.
Try as I might, I could not get the negative terminal connected if I included the terminal for the battery charger. The design of the OEM leads is such that the left hand side of the wee opening that holds the nut is covered by part of the terminal and the finger trick was not possible. I couldn’t find anything slim enough to wedge it. So, when it eventually dawned on me that with a new battery I’d probably manage the day without the charger, I stashed the terminal carefully and connected the battery without it.
Digression: it took a bit of fiddling in the garage the next day to get the charger reconnected. I had to wedge a small cable tie under the nut enough to lift it so the bolt would bite.
I went inside, paid, retrieved my keys and went outside to get going again. I pressed the starter. ‘Whirr … v‑r‑r‑r‑rooooooom!’
At that point I noticed a couple of very excellent second hand bikes for sale.
You’ll notice there are two bikes of great appeal in this shot: to my eye the CB1300 is not as beautiful as the CB1100, but I still carry a torch for one.
By now a ridiculous amount of riding time had disappeared and the day’s plan would have to be reconsidered. Because I’m more of a [url=http://cb1100forum.com/forum/showthread.php?tid=9086]wanderer than a planner, I thought I might as well ride as do anything else while I figured it, so I turned south.
My destination was O’Reilly’s—a rainforest retreat at the top of a mountain in the Lamington National Park in the border ranges. The attraction was twofold: I’d never been there and the road leading up to it looked promising.
A very short section of the road to O’Reilly’s
It was not long before I’d escaped the worst excesses of the built-up area, and in an hour I was at the bottom of the O’Reilly’s road.
It wasn’t long before I was in the country
Leaving Canungra, the town at the start of the O’Reilly’s Road
The start of the O’Reilly’s road
From Canungra up the hill to the O’Reilly’s Rainforest Retreat is about 35 kms and just under an hour’s ride. It’s a great surface, sometimes lacking a centre line; it twists and turns and was not blessed with much traffic that day. The scenery is terrific, although there’s not always a great deal of time to look at it and concentrating on riding.
What can I say? It was really, really good to be back in the saddle on a country road that wound its way somewhere. The cares of the morning fell away.
Some hazards are better avoided. A sidebar: it was only when writing this post and reviewing the photos that I realised I’d lost a bar weight. Is it too embarrassing to admit that I’d spent another day on the bike after this and still hadn’t noticed?
This sign is a wonderfully common sight on the way up the hill
This was one way!
Arriving at O’Reilly’s, where it was a deal cooler than down in the valley, I decided to reward myself with a coffee and an acceptable toasted sandwich.
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