My wife of some 17 years, told me in January that I needed some form of relaxation or interest that I could pursue on my own. Her worry was that at middle age, the usual spreading girth, long pressure filled hours at work, and two nights a week away from home were making me old before my time. Whereas I was concerned that with the pressures of work and the amount of time away from home, I should be with the family, the family (god love 'em) wanted me to do something for myself.

Having played a lot of golf in my youth at a relatively useful level, I have to confess that going back to serious golf was not on the agenda as it would entail lots of frustration (the mind hasn't changed but the body sure has) and more pressure. Horses weren't big enough (anymore), boats were too much work and expense.

What I wanted was a bike.

You can buy one cheap, do not cost a lot to keep, start when you use the choke, you don't have to talk to them after a ride, and they never have a headache on a Sunday morning.

Three weeks later I had my pride and joy, despite the forecasts of danger and self destruction that I got from everyone but the family. Being middle aged I just had to have a cruiser. Got one too. A gleaming new Suzuki Marauder 800. As the dealer said, "A good starters bike which I would ride for a little while before getting another one". "No way" said I. I had support from the Boss at home for this little venture and all I wanted to do was go out on a Sunday to relieve the pressure etc. I did not want to go fast; just cruise and enjoy myself.

By June I had only done 3,000 Kilometer's because my pride and joy hurt my bum! High and forward feet position with all my weight on my backside did nothing for the circulation to my biggest organ so 60 K's usually saw a break to get some blood going again. Oh, and I couldn't stay with all the boys (and girls) on their sports/tourers.

With the help of a magnificent dealer (Newcastle Suzuki) I was able to change over to a brand spanking new GSX F 750 within the strict guidelines set down by my darling, understanding wife (and keeper of the purse). Just so that you know, I do wear the pants in my house but only the ones that she puts out for me each day - so there.

What a beauty. Bike fitted like a glove, was comfortable, blood circulation was reaching all the right places, I could keep up with everyone and I discovered corners. Yee hah! Between July 5 and September 9 I managed to put 2,950 K's on the new bike and I was really looking forward to my first tour with a group of other bike "nuts" on September 23 and 24.

The weekend promised to be a good one. A nice ride up the Pacific Highway from Newcastle to Wauchope to warm things up. From there up over the Australian Dividing Range to Walcha on one of Australia's best bike rides. A couple of hours of steeply winding smooth roads with slow and fast corners in sub tropical rain forest. From there onto a small country pub at Bendemeer (population 150 and no banjos to speak of).

A night of fluid replacement and then next day back to Walcha and then another fast/slow/winding road for 3 hours down to Gloucester and on home to Newcastle.

Only problem was on the 9th I fell off the bike and broke it big time! Bloody corners. Killed the bike, helmet, leather jacket, pants and gloves. No problems to me except for a bruised wrist, scraped leg, broken ego and a pair of boxers that defied description and had to be buried.

My really big worry was that I was going to miss the tour and the weekend away. Bugger.

Despite the horror stories that I have heard about broken bikes and insurance companies I was greatly relieved to find that the dealer (Newcastle Suzuki), and the insurance company (CGU) struck a deal and I had a new bike on September 16. With 400 K's on the clock I was able to make the trip.

The appointed day came on the 23rd and I arrived at the meeting point to be greeted by 26 other bikes and a suggestion that training wheels should be installed. Very funny!

I had been told that the group would always aggregate at each nominated fuel stop after splitting into groups that "went hard" (found out what that meant on the way to Walcha), "had a go" and "cruised". The group of bikes included the usual array of Japanese and Italian big capacity sports bikes, the sports/tourers similar to my GSX F and a Harley and a Honda Hornet 600. An interesting bike that gained quite a lot of interest was an older Laverda (1000 I think, that went as hard as it sounded good but it looked like you filled it with fuel through the front headlight fairing).

Found out pretty quickly that the group had little respect for speed limits or Mr. Plod. I managed to keep in front of the Hornet, but the Harley rider insisted on being at the front of the pack at a speed that I had difficulty contemplating during the initial stages of the tour. By the time we got to Taree (2 hours) we had managed to exceed all posted speeds, make one passing officer of the state in a 4WD look the other way and generally intimidate the pants of most tin tops/mobile chicanes.

I noted that in a pack of this size most vehicles make way so that passing is safe and generally within 10% of the posted speeds. I also noted that a lot of Aussie drivers persist in speeding up when they think that they are going to be overtaken.

This section of the Pacific Highway now has a major 4 lane extension which is pretty good for both cars and bikes. The cars get to avoid the old highway mountain pass at Buledelah and the bikes get to ride it without any vehicles in either direction. Makes for some fast riding in beautiful country on (still) good roads with lots of twisty bits. I managed to get through without putting the bike down and managed to restore some of my recently lost bravery. This diversion is well recommended both for scenery and the ride.

Fuel at Taree and then onto Wauchope for lunch was pretty uneventful for most of the group. Having passed Mr Plod in an unmarked car, the Harley man was leading the pack at a premium to the listed speed and forgot that our chosen government has installed 24 hour fixed speed cameras in special revenue gathering, oop's I mean accident hot spots at the bottom of hills. While everyone slowed and waved with the appropriate one finger salute, Mr. Harley used the drop in pace to speed off into the lead and another account rendered from the New South Wales government. Bugger. That big Harley does go though.

A few nice windy bits into Wauchope to get the digestive juices going for lunch, some fluid replacement and some blood circulation for the Hornet rider who was suffering from numbness in his rear end. The bike was pretty slow also. A few of us (me and one other) began to feel sorry for the Hornet man as he was always last into a rest/fuel stop and as a result ended up with little rest and a lot of accumulated aches and pains. By Wauchope he had had enough. The pub (didn't get its name but it is the first one on the left on the way into town) welcomes bike groups and offer to accept pre order phone calls so that meals are ready on arrival. Free beer (or other drink) with each meal also.

The first 40 K's out of Wauchope follows a water course and is characterised by gently rising terrain, sweeping fast corners, and a lot of fun. A couple of "S" bends onto and off a couple of bridges keeps the brakes warm and the gear box used however.

It was just after this section that I found out what "going hard" really meant. The 4 or 5 slower riders got quite a jump start on the other group riders out of Wauchope. In the second 40 to 50 K's up to Ginger Creek coffee shop (the half way house to Walcha) there is nothing but smooth, climbing roads with never ending cut backs/corners with posted speeds rarely exceeding 45K's and usually around 35 K's.

Being a novice, and down on bravery after my recent "off", I was using 4th and 5th gear (of 6) and around 2,500 to 4,000 revs to enter the corners and feel my way around. (no commentary about the size of my equipment relative to the size of my bum please). Thought I was doing very well keeping in front of a couple of 600 twins, the Harley and the Hornet. To say that I nearly stepped off to see if I had stopped when everyone else went through en masse is an understatement. I was, and still am, in awe at the ability of the main group to ride on our own side of the road so rapidly. I recall grinning from ear to ear as I watched them disappear up the mountain out of view. It is also worth recording that at least 3 of the "go hard" group was accompanied by their partners on the pillion seats. Very, very impressive and highlighted just how much I have to learn about corners.

At Ginger Creek the group waited for everyone to congregate again. Despite the varying speeds of the group, I was very impressed by the insistence that everyone road at their own speed and the lack of pressure to stay with the pack. I most enjoyed the banter (what happened to the training wheels?) and the chance to gain some invaluable advice regarding cornering which could be summarised as:

• Don't coast into the corners in a high gear at low rev's, but
• Use about 6,000 to 9,000 revs (12,000 redline) in a lower gear and give it heaps out of the corners.

Yeah right!

I didn't have the heart to admit that I was using 4^th and 5^th and only up to 4,000 rev's. While I did not go the whole hog on the next 20 K's to the top of the mountain, I did employ the advice to a greater degree and within the limits of my (increasing) bravery I managed to enjoy the section very much.

Even managed to get to the open section leading out onto the Walcha tableland with its open, sweeping, smooth roads for the final 60K's into Walcha in front some of the pack that waited longer at Ginger Creek. Seems that Mr Harley received plenty from the troops about the smell from the brakes and the smoke on his arrival at Ginger Creek. I was nearly last into Walcha and then Bendemeer though. At around 140 Kph I was quickly swallowed up by the Harley, and the "go hard" group lead by a Yammy R1, Fireblade, 'Busa and an Aprilla which was just awesome and sounded even better.

On questioning when I finally arrived at the Bendemeer pub, the Aprilla trip computer documented that the highest speed reached on the run into Walcha was 280 Kph. I have a series II Clubsport with 6 litres of Corvette V8. I would do unmentionable things to my underclothes at that speed in the Beast – to contemplate those speeds on a bike is not even conceivable.

I did notice that my fuel economy was better than theirs though. The final 40 K's to Bendemeer from Walcha is a pleasant high speed (for me) ride along smooth, sweeping roads that follows another water course. Great country and a wonderful ride.

Having left Newcastle at 8.30am, stopped 4 times we made good time to get to Bendemeer in time to grab a Schooner (some had time for 2 or 3) and watch the Perkins silver medal in the 1500 meters at 3.20 pm. The evening passed with more beers, some red wines and a couple of cleansing Bundy and cokes. A meal was had but was forgettable in its quality. What were enjoyable was the tall stories, the lack of demarcation between expert and novice rider, the sharing of more tall stories and the overall joy of having a great night out.

The accommodation at the pub was quite good and much better than I had imagined. I was delighted to find my room vacant when I retired at 10.30pm (I was really looking forward to the next day). Managed to get to sleep momentarily before room mate #1 arrived. With all the decorum of a fart at a funeral, the big Kiwi managed to turn all the lights on, run all of the taps in the bathroom etc. Went to bed, fell asleep in mid sentence and commenced snoring. After half an hour he woke in a coughing fit and rushed to the bathroom where he invoked memories from my youth with a "Johnny Peard". Who remembers his great "up and unders"? Room mate #2 came home at half past (?) having taken on board sufficient anesthetic to numb his memories of a long day in the saddle of the Hornet and having run out of money.

Next morning I awoke to complaints of a lot of wood sawing but it could not have been too bad as I did not hear a thing. Breakfast was a highlight as it is pretty hard to stuff up bacon and eggs (unless you drown it in stuff that looked like mashed tomatoes). It was also quite entertaining to see the group roll in with the respective times that they retired clearly visible in their physical states of being.

For the trip home the group split into two with one group opting for a gentle ride down the New England highway (yawn) and the other going back to Walcha and on to Gloucester (yee hah). Seems like those that went to bed early took the windy bits on as a general rule. I have always enjoyed the Walcha and northern tablelands of New South Wales having attended the University of New England just up the road at Armidale. The ride from Bendemeer to Walcha to the Carson lookout at the edge of the tablelands was one of the most spectacular that I have experienced. Smooth roads, sweeping high speed bends, gentle undulations and no traffic.

When I caught the main bunch (sans room mate #1 and the Hornet man) at the Carson lookout, the Apprila's trip computer testified to my assessment of the roads by showing that the main pack had reached 200 Kph on this leg. The vista at this stopping point was spectacular and a must for anyone passing by. A toilet and water is available.

At this point we suggested to the main pack that they head off to Gloucester and Newcastle leaving room mate #1 and me to chaperone the Hornet man home at somewhat gentler speeds. The departure of the main group was spectacular with after market pipes sounding wonderful on these big capacity bikes. The mono from the R1 on departure was something that was very impressive. Yamaha's seem to have a problem with the front wheel being light though. All weekend another Yamy had trouble keeping two wheels on the ground as we left each departure point. The effort at the traffic lights leaving Taree was particularly meritorious.

The ride to Gloucester was slower (for me anyway) due to the downhill terrain, very slow corners, lack of vision in some instances due to terrain and the wonderful scenery. At Gloucester we found the main pack waiting for us (again) but this was the last we saw of them. The final ride home through Stroud and Raymaond Terrace to Newcastle was relaxing but best described as a transport section with rough roads in places and lots of traffic once back on the Pacific Highway.

Impressed the lovely lady that we were home by 2.00pm so much that she took me out for a well earned beer or five where I am sure I bored her to tears with tails of our exploits. My bike showed that I traveled 798 Klm's on the trip. The bike is now run in and due for its first service.

What was good:

• The organisation and David (Dyno's) good humor,
• The lack of pressure to ride above individual ability levels,
• The route and accommodations,
• The weather,
• The company,
• The sound of V-twins with good pipes,
• I learnt some cornering hints and that I should attend a cornering and braking course.
• No traffic issues or riding issues presented themselves, and
• I recovered my confidence after the "off" in recent weeks.

What was bad:

• The cost of a can of Bundy and Coke at Bendemeer,
• The trip ended too soon.

Can't wait for the next one! After all, as a colleague of my sister in the states says, "It's not the destination, fool... it's the ride"!

David Ipkendanz
September 27, 2000

 

 
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