The Wintersun Run: Day 12

Day 12: Dorrigo to Pomona, 586 kms

My plan was to make it home so I was up and packed early. As I loaded the bike I realised that the noise I'd heard the day before had been a bolt at the front of the rack supporting the top box working its way loose and falling out. Damned if I could find a hardware store in Dorrigo so I set sail for Grafton figuring it would hold on that long.

It was a beautiful morning, but cold, as I followed a narrow and winding road from Dorrigo across to the main Armidale-Grafton road. It was beautiful—bush and farmland and corners and not much traffic. I saw the first live kangaroos I'd seen since the Hay Plain. Sadly, we had seen all too many dead ones.

As promised by the Iron Chef, the main Armidale-Grafton road was also an excellent ride, again semi alpine with lovely Australian Bush, some twists and turns and finally a descent and run along the plain into Grafton where it was pleasantly warmer.

I had coffee, found an auto shop and effected some repairs to the rack so as not to be worrying about it on the rest of the way home. I was going to follow the Summerland Way which runs north from Grafton to Kyogle before turning north-westerly and heading over the border into Queensland near a point where I once went for a ride with Enzo. The road’s pretty flat and fast to Kyogle; but pretty, running through bush and cleared farmland. The mountains of the border ranges get closer as you approach Kyogle.

At Kyogle, I decided to forsake the Summerland way and turn slightly east towards Murwillumbah as the road looked a interesting and it would bring me over the border at a point from which the final run home up the highway would be easier.

Between Kyogle and Murwillumbah there is some lovely winding road, although, from time to time, the surface is pretty broken up. These are the last photos I took before the camera told me the battery was exhausted.

I managed to fool it into life for one brief moment to take this photo of Mt Warning which is the point of Australia from which the sun was first visible at the new millennium. I was going to say it’s the first point the sun hits every day, but I’m not sure that’s true.

From Murwillumbah I crossed the border along the Numinbah Road which is full of twists and turns and very pretty, before a quick trip down the hill to Nerang where I joined the freeway for the final run home.

I stopped for petrol near Caboolture and met a bloke on a BMW who was so loaded with gear that it surprised me he could get into his seat. He’d come from Armidale (near where I’d started) that morning. I took one last photo of the CB (with my phone) before climbing aboard for the final run home. I arrived just after dark having had the chance to enjoy the night time dashboard.

I’d been away 12 days and ridden just over 4,600 kms according to the map and 4,741 according to the speedo. All this on a naked bike with no mods other than a top box and a power outlet.

I couldn’t be happier with the CB1100. It didn’t miss a beat, carrying me and my load for 10 pretty solid days riding. It always felt smooth and there was always power in reserve. I haven’t ridden a real sport tourer like an ST, but based on this experience, I’m happy to use my CB1100 for long distance cruising in Australia. The thing I like about it most, I think, is going up hills. I don’t know why, but the sense of effortless power and always being able to accelerate always gives me a blast.

The Wintersun Run: Day 11

Day 11: Gloucester to Dorrigo, 485 kms

Tony had been insistent that I ride the Oxley Highway on the way home. I didn’t want to because it meant a longer way and made it possible I’d have to spend an extra night on the road. My research on Day 9 had shown me a couple of alternatives, but I also looked at the Motorcycle Paradise Blog (written by Iron Chef, a former CB1100 owner—indeed I think he may have owned the bike that Pipemasters used in its video of its 4 into 4). The Iron Chef has a great section on good motorcycle rides in Australia and I read the post about the Oxley Highway with interest. He claims—and who am I to argue—that there are more 30-40 km corners than the Tail of the Dragon in the USA and rates it as one of the three best rides in Australia. I’ve included a link to his post on it and it’s worth a read, if only for the photos.

In the end, I decided I’d have to do it, even if not the best way, which is said to be east to west; or up rather than down.

So I left Gloucester to head to Walcha up Thunderbolt’s Way—the route of another nineteenth century bushranger. Thunderbolt’s Way actually runs pretty much all the way to Goondiwindi on the NSW/Queensland border where I’d refuelled on the way to meet the Pterodactyl way back on Day 1, but I was turning off long before that.

It was raining, the only day on which it did, so I was wrapped up in wet weather gear with no possibility of photos on the move. The road out of Gloucester is fantastic. It winds through gorges and ravines climbing and descending and then climbing again before opening out a little into plantation forest and then on to a semi-alpine plain across which you climb to get to Walcha. Once into the forest, the road is mostly good and its a fast ride, even on a cold, wet day. There are some pictures of the higher part here on the Motorcycle Paradise blog. I have one photo of my own from an earlier trip along this road.

The Little Manning River crossing on an earlier trip 

I refuelled at Walcha at a very old fashioned service station that offered little in the way of service and certainly had nothing at all resembling coffee. I had no desire to get dressed and then undressed again in the space of a few minutes so I pressed on along the Oxley Highway.

As an aside, it was somewhere around here that I decided that serious long distance riding in the cold and wet would require either the insertion of a catheter or wearing a wetsuit; the palaver of taking off several layers of clothing every time a toilet stop is necessary started to get to me.

As the Iron Chef records, you wonder what the fuss is about as you race east for nearly 60 kms across the alpine plain. I like that sort of clear alpine country, and the road is made for fast travelling. In spite of the damp, I made good time. It has either always been cleared or deforested for farming land. Then you come to the trees and the road starts to descend into corners that get progressively tighter. It’s a stunning road: not just for riding, but because I also really enjoy that sort of winding road through the Australian bush.

About 30 kms after the road begins its descent, you reach the Gingers Creek Café, where I decided to stop for a well-earned coffee. It was still wet, although the rain never got really hard all day, and I was a bit cold. I met a couple of other riders who were on their way up the road. A Kawasaki Ninja 1000 and a black Ducati

I also managed some photos of the road as it approaches Gingers Creek. Only a motorcycle tragic would understand.

And, later, some others a bit further down the hill as the road begins to fall below the tree line.

Even after the quick run across Long Flat at the bottom of the hill there are occasional twisty bits to keep the rider on his or her toes. I can see why the ride from east to west might be better— there’s much to be said for uphill rides—and I’ll be going back to do it some day.

After refuelling at Wauchope, I turned northwards to join the national highway for a while on my way to Dorrigo. Somewhere between Wauchope and Pembroke I heard a noise as if something had fallen off. I stopped and looked, but couldn’t see anything and so kept going.

The ride up the Waterfall Way from the National Highway to Dorrigo has some very enjoyable twisties, particularly between Bellingen and Dorrigo where the road clings to the side of cliff down which the waterfalls which give the road its name tumble.

It had stopped raining when I arrived, but I had worn the full wet weather kit all day. An OK pizza for dinner then bed.

The Wintersun Run: Day 10

Day 10: Sydney to Gloucester, 347 kms

Plan B—getting the doctors' surgery to fax a prescription to the local pharmacy—sorted the medication problem and I finally got under way about 10.30 am. On Tony's recommendation, I retraced my steps to our last coffee stop so I could tackle the Putty Road which leads out of Sydney to the north and is much enjoyed by motorcyclists.

The bike loaded and ready to head north for home

It was overcast, but pleasant enough and I stopped for coffee and something to eat at the Grey Goose Café, a popular haunt for travellers and kindly towards motorcyclists. They even have a concrete strip along the front of the place reserved for bikes.

The Grey Goose Café—not quite in the middle of nowhere

Not long after leaving the Grey Goose, I found an abandoned roadhouse with a remarkable statue which prompted me to pull out the camera. Having turned it on and discovered I could at least take pictures wearing thick gloves, I left it hanging round my neck and took some.

Australian bush—there is something very special about it

In the 10 Mile section of the Putty Road: motorcycle heaven

Before Singleton, the road straightens out across a plain, now largely cleared for farming.

After refuelling at Singleton, I set out up the wonderfully named Buckett’s Way to Gloucester, my destination for the day. It’s a very pretty drive—some plain and some hill and modest ravine country climbing again into the Great Dividing Range.

I came across the unassuming looking bridge above and a sign flashed by telling me it was a world first. So I stopped on the other side to take the photo and read information about it. Apparently, when it was completed in 1994 it was the largest cellular stress laminated hardwood bridge deck in the world. It’s 60 metres by 8.5 metres and was assembled on one of the approaches. It was “... launched into  position with the aid of hydraulic jacks & bailey rocker rollers. Weighing in excess of 200 tonnes this was the largest or heaviest structure ever launched in this manner.”

An altogether less impressive construction, but pretty nonetheless

NSW has many of these signs warning motorcyclists to be careful

Approaching Gloucester: these striking mountains are a lovely backdrop

Gloucester’s Roundabout Inn had a motorcycle parked outside so I went in and booked a room. They kindly gave me space in their garage to park the bike and I enjoyed more crumbed lamb cutlets, beer and red wine before falling asleep in front of the television—the first I’d watched since leaving home.

The Wintersun Run: Day 9

Day 9: Sydney, 23.9 kms

After Tony and I parted company on the north shore of Sydney Harbour. I rode across the bridge to visit my son who lives in Sydney. I had a very pleasant evening with him, stayed the night did some domestic chores, spent some time figuring how I would get home and bought a bluetooth dongle that would allow me to connect my phone to my earphones wirelessly.

In the afternoon I travelled across Sydney to stay with some very old friends. The map of that trip is included only for completeness as, if I can find a way to do it, I intend to post a single map of the complete ride. To date Google has thwarted me.

I hoped to get away quickly the next morning; but, because I’d been away longer than I expected, I’d just about run out of prescription medication and the top up my wife posted hadn’t arrived. It was looking like I'd have to spend another day in Sydney.

The Wintersun Run: Day 8

Day 8: Boorowa to Sydney, 433 kms

This was the final day of an excellent ride. Our route would take us to Sydney over the Blue Mountains with some fantastic stretches of road, particularly between Taralga and Oberon. Pterodactyl was in home territory and loving it. Watching him race ahead, I wondered whether he shouldn’t be renamed Terror Dactyl.

The next photos were taken at a brief rest stop next to the Abercrombie river which lies at the bottom of a steep downward windy road and then a steep upward windy road. Apparently there’s a rally held there. It’d be a great place to camp, but cold as in the winter.

We stopped just outside Lithgow for a coffee and something to eat and inspected the bugs on the front of our bikes ...

... and took a last look at the part of the Blue Mountains through which we’d just ridden.

The penultimate leg took us along Bells Line of Road, a ridge along the Blue Mountains behind Sydney which then drops into its far northern suburbs.

At a final coffee stop at Macdonalds in Windsor we reviewed the journey and said our farewells before riding together towards Sydney. I last saw Tony as he headed for the tunnel under Sydney Harbour while I rode over the famous Sydney Harbour Bridge. I’m still wishing I could have taken a photo as I rode across, but the traffic was dense and worrisome and I didn’t have the camera ready to go. But here’s a photo of the bridge from another day in Sydney …

It was a great trip. Together, we covered more than 2,500 kilometres and reduced the bug population of Australia by around 678,253. Sadly, we also reduced the bird population by two.

Although Tony and I parted company here, I’ve more story to tell as I still had to get home.

The Wintersun Run: Day 7

Day 7: Deniliquin to Boorowa, 457 kms

Of course it was bloody freezing again the next morning, although reasonably sunny and we set off for Boorowa—west and slightly north. Our first stop was Jerilderie, at which were back on the Newell Highway but further south than when we left. I mention it only because it was the scene of a very famous bank robbery by Ned Kelly, a nineteenth century bushranger who, despite being a tedious criminal, manages to remain a national icon of sorts. Actually, Ned was not without merit. He and his gang invented and constructed armour from sheet metal. It made them literally bullet proof, except for the minor consideration of not covering their legs. In what turned out to be the final shoot out, Police Sergeant Steele recognised the absence of leg protection and cooly shot Ned a couple of times in the legs.

When Tony and I arrived in Jerilderie it was overcast and cold and we had a welcome coffee and a hot meat pie.

The rest of the day was uneventful, although the road between Wagga Wagga (or Wagga bloody Wagga as it’s known) and Gundagai was great riding. After a stretch on the Hume Highway (the main road from Melbourne to Sydney) we turned off and the final kilometres to Boorowa also covered some good riding road.

I took not a single photograph.

The Wintersun Run: Day 6

Day 6: Mildura to Deniliquin, 396 kms

I awoke to find a coating of frost on the seat of the CB.

After breakfast, packing up the camp and saying farewell to the folk we'd met and camped with, we set out in the direction of Sydney. Our first overnight stop was to be Deniliquin. We rode backwards and forwards across the New South Wales/Victorian borders to Swan Hill before finally returning to NSW and heading north to Deniliquin.

Just before Swan Hill we were relieved to find petrol at Nyah. When we stopped, Tony had the same level of cold I’d experienced on Day 3. It’s quite unnerving and it was good to have some sun to restore some warmth.

A break at Nyah

Deniliquin was memorable for dinner. The Returned Servicemen's League is an Australian institution for reasons I won’t go into. However, the RSL has established clubs all over the country. Once the preserve of veterans of the two world wars (if I remember correctly it took them a good while to acknowledge that people who had served in Korea and Vietnam were also veterans), the clubs are now open to all comers and earn copious revenue from banks of poker machines. Because they're now about business not a community of interest, if you live more than a certain distance away, you simply sign in to become a temporary member.

The RSL in Deniliquin was opposite where we were staying and was recommended as the place to eat. So off we went. A carnival to be held the following day meant there was a lengthy queue for dinner, but a couple of beers eased the pain of waiting. We both ordered a rib steak and settled in with a bottle of red wine. Just when we were thinking we’d been forgotten, a waitress appeared, apologised, and said there was only one steak left. Fortunately it was easy. I’d had trouble deciding between the steak and crumbed lamb cutlets, so I ordered them instead.

While the accompanying vegetables were unexceptional, both meat dishes were excellent—probably the best we ate all trip and worth the wait.

The Wintersun Run: Day 5

We thought a Sunday morning trip into the excitement of Mildura to get a decent breakfast, coffee and fuel for next day would be a good plan. Had we got ourselves organised a bit more quickly, we could have gone on a tour of the region run by the organisers if the Wintersun Rally. We didn't.

Breakfast and coffee were good; the first service station the GPS sent us to no longer existed, but the second one did.

Before going on, may I make clear that I have nothing against Harleys. None of my best friends rides one, but I'm sure some very agreeable people do. I concede that all kinds of motorcycles attract dickheads of one sort or another, but it sometimes seems the ones who gravitate to Harleys are special.

As Tony led us back to the camp, a dude on a Harley muscled past me. He looked a bit odd from the rear with his hands held high and his feet sticking way out to the side and up in the air, but he'd done a lovely job on the chrome. Then he muscled past Tony; clearly Harley riders, when present, have to lead the convoy. We came to a roundabout and our man thought he'd show the Jap crap a thing or two and gave his wrist a mighty twist. He took off quite quickly and must have been peeved to find Pterodactyl sticking to him like shit to a blanket until he gave up the race.

Courtesy of Tony, here's some photos of the speedway.

The Wintersun Run: Day 4

Day 4: Wentworth and return 77 kms

It was cold again in the morning, but the rally organisers kindly provided a breakfast of eggs, bacon and sausage with a cup of tea for $5 so we ate that and talked to a few other motorcyclists who had made the trip to Mildura, a town in north western Victoria just over the New South Wales border and close to South Australia. Indeed it is closer to Adelaide than Melbourne. It used to be a centre of grapes for fortified wine but has now become a major citrus growing area. There was a bit of speedway for juniors in the late morning and we watched a little of it. 

A junior getting in some practice

Later we rode the short distance to Wentworth over the border in NSW to see the confluence of the Murray and Darling Rivers which are critical sources of water for most of Eastern Australia. From Wentworth the Murray flows into the sea near Adelaide. One of these days I'll go back there with my wife for a houseboat trip.

Tony—at great personal risk —rode his CB into the park so I could take a photo of it with the confluence of the rivers in the background. Here it is.

Luckily he escaped without being caught.

After coffee and cake in a nearby café we rode a very short distance to the Perry Sand Hills which are attractive and seem very out of place in the middle of this flat but fertile country.

Then back to Mildura for beer, another hamburger, red wine and festivities by the bonfire in honour of the rally and the speedway.

There was one other notable feature of Day 4: it was just warm enough for me to ride in my lighter gloves, so I managed some shots on the move.

Out here corners are rare: practice when you can!

In preparation for the excitement of the speedway, and because it was cold, the organisers kindly lit a fire for me.