Lavers Hill - Colac - Melbourne
21 October 2014
Master Map
When I was a good deal younger, I had an album by Ian Matthews called Some days you eat the bear and some days the bear eats you. When I got up on a glorious but chilly morning, I had no idea it was (in large measure) going to be one of the latter.
It was a glorious morning. You can see the road into town from the east in the top right of the picture.
Breakfast at the motel was a serious mistake: like the room, overpriced and very, very, very ordinary indeed. Neither of us was happy.
Things improved when we got under way. The road north to Colac where we'd decide to go to refuel was really enjoyable on a crisp, sunny morning and we made good time to a petrol station where we refuelled. We'd chosen Colac because it would give Pterodactyl a good launching point for a long and not very interesting trip back across Victoria towards Omeo where he had to stop to collect his watch. My plan was to head back down to the coast somewhere near Port Campbell, check out the Twelve Apostles, take some photos and then ride the Great Ocean Road back to Melbourne where I was going to spend two nights.
An alternative involved a ride north to Ballarat and lunch with some old friends before pushing on to Melbourne. Forgive my explaining the nature of the friendship, but it becomes relevant.
Early in my first marriage, my wife and I had a very good friend who not only introduced my brother to his wife, but also went on to marry my brother's best mate. My old friend and her husband, with whom I've remained in touch, live in Ballarat. He has a neglected old BMW 750 in his garage.
I rang them and left a message. While Pterodactyl and I were having a coffee, my mate rang back and told me today would not be a good day to visit as his wife's mother had died the previous weekend and they were preparing for the funeral the next day.
At this point, or thereabouts, I said farewell to Pterodactyl. He had a biggish day ahead, much of it not very interesting, but he can tell you about that. It was the end of the fourth good ride in less than 12 months with a bloke from 1,000 kms away who I met by chance on an Internet forum. We've yet to have a really bum day.
Now, as it happened, the plan for my second night in Melbourne was to meet up with my brother and his family to hear the great Pat Metheny. They were flying in from Tasmania for the purpose. So I rang my sister-in-law and found she now intended flying earlier to attend the funeral in Ballarat. We hatched a plan to borrow my niece's car, drive to the funeral and then back to Melbourne in time for the concert.
With that sorted; I had one little chore before taking to the road to Port Campbell and the Great Ocean Road.
Wrong.
The chore was to fill a prescription. Should have been simple; but of course it wasn't. It was a repeat prescription and by law in Australia pharmacists must sight the original prescription before issuing a repeat. Most of them leave it in a little paper folder behind the repeat. Not the a*sehole who'd first issued this script who'd decided he wanted me to go back there to fill all the repeats. So, although the pharmacist in Colac was very apologetic, she declined to fill it. Fair enough, I guess, but I was left wondering why life always dishes up these tidbits of important knowledge in the most irritating of circumstances.
I rang my doctor in the expectation that he'd fax a prescription to the pharmacy, but he was on a rare holiday so there was nothing for it but to take my chances at the local surgery. Everyone was very helpful, but they warned me the doctors were all booked up and I'd have to wait. I took a seat and caught up with reading on the CB1100 forum and elsewhere. Much later, I realised the waiting room had emptied. I asked at the counter to see what was happening.
"Haven't you been seen yet?" the young lady asked, slightly aghast.
"No."
Within 30 seconds I was in front of a doctor. Five minutes later I was out the door script in hand, apologies ringing in my ears. But by then it was well and truly time for lunch and my plans were in tatters.
Clutching my prescription, I ate lunch and reformulated my plan. All was not lost. I could ride to the coast at Skene's Creek and then back along much of the GOR to Melbourne.
It turned out to be way better than expected. This was the bit where I got to gnaw on the bear, as it were. It was a glorious afternoon. The ride to the coast was very like the morning's ride — a good country road through pretty hilly bush country without much traffic.
Gotta love a sign like that
And now, because I feel my reporting duty strongly, here are some photos of the Great Ocean Road after I joined it at Skene's Creek. As you can see, it was a great day for a ride.
You can see the road ahead
At the end of the GOR it's life on the freeway to Melbourne. At a stop for fuel and a cup of tea, a text from Jalalski told me he was home in Sydney; a slightly later one from Pterodactyl told me he'd made Bright — a good ride on his part. I was already missing the brotherhood.
In Melbourne I stayed with my niece and her husband in their recently purchased house.
