2 January 2016
Click for a detailed map. I travelled anti-clockwise
In mid 2015 I took a job in the Solomon Islands which meant leaving the CB1100 at home. On 17 December we returned to Brisbane, Australia for a Christmas break. On 18 December my wife and I rode south an hour or so to Tugun where, with some friends, we spent a glorious week by the Pacific Ocean.
The view from our Tugun apartment
We rode home on 24 December — although there was a moment when a chap shot across my lane and onto an exit when I didn't think we'd make it. In fairness, I think he’d seen me and he indicated just in time for me to slow.
As all we did was hurtle down and up the freeway I won’t say any more about it. The bike did seem to use a lot of fuel on the way down and I wondered whether it had to do with the stabiliser I put in the tank in November.
A day or so after Christmas it was back on the CB for another trip north to our home turf — the Sunshine Coast and hinterland. Again, the trip was pretty much highway except for a couple of tiny stretches of twisties which Mrs Cormanus said she enjoyed. I did.
For reference, the bike goes very well with two people and my 60-litre waterproof duffel aboard. I really only notice the weight when stopping and at very low speeds.
There’s plenty to do on home visits and it was Christmas to boot so it wasn’t until 2 January that I managed a clear day to head for the hills, as it were. As you can see, it was a lousy day in Brisbane.
Soon I was through The Gap and into the foothills of Mt Nebo, a favourite ride.
This bloke kindly pulled over soon after this was taken
Along the Mt Nebo road and onto Mt Glorious where I stopped at the Mt Glorious Café for a plate of fried eggs and bacon, a cappuccino and a look at a couple of bikes.
Wouldn’t mind one of these in the garage
Then it was back on the road for the magnificent ride down the hill to the Wivenhoe dam. There have been lots of accidents there and the traffic engineers have predictably responded by reducing the speed limit to a point where it’s barely fun in a car and more than a little too low for a motorcycle. As I signed a petition calling for a review, I wondered whether it would be possible to contemplate differential speed limits for cars and bikes. After all, there are places in Australia where buses and trucks have different speed limits from cars.
It’s pretty enough country and, when you get to the bottom of the hill the road is in good condition and a quick ride. After a bit, though, the landscape opens up and one is in the flatlands. It’s not country I prefer to ride in; but, so often in life, one has to cross the flat to get to the hill.
Eventually, this road led me to the Esk - Gatton road where I wanted to ride the road south of Gatton that I’d sent Pterodactyl along in early 2015.
Having refuelled at Gatton, I was soon back into the flatlands but not on the road I meant to be. Luckily I realised in time to make a quick adjustment and was soon enjoying the cuttings and turns in the pleasant road south of Ma Ma Creek.
Of course fun things always end — often way too quickly — but I knew it would happen and anyway it was so good to be back on the bike and out in the country that I’d have been happy riding in circles.
After an unmemorable lunch at Allora I was soon at the point where I turned east for home. I passed a number of these 34-wheeled brutes.
In the background you can see the Main Range where the road passes through Cunningham’s Gap. It’s a spectacular pass with the mountains rising steeply either side of it. This was the first time I’d ridden through it and, like every time I’ve driven through in a car, I promised myself I’d stop for a look around. I didn't. I must have had the music on as I missed hearing the usual tinkling of the bellbirds.
I think Cunningham’s Gap is near to the twin peaks you can see in this photograph. Of course my camera’s battery died shortly after I took this shot. I was free to ride with both hands on the bars and there are no photos of Cunningham’s Gap.
Approaching Cunningham’s Gap from the west, the road is essentially flat and straight. It’s only when you get to the final kilometre or three that you find yourself embraced by the forest. After you’re through the pass you have a wonderful ride down from the plateau; at first with the mountain soaring up on your right and a glorious view of the valley. This is another road where the traffic authorities have responded to poor driving on a difficult road with speed limits set for the lowest possible denominator of car driver. It’s still a lovely trip.
After passing through Aratula, a town I’ve always really liked for no reason I can think of, I soon took a familiar turn to the right to head to Boonah which I visited on the CB when I rode to meet Enzo (see here and here).
I really like the ride through to Boonah and then on to Beaudesert. It’s pretty country; the road is good and you can get along at a reasonable sort of pace most of the time.
I refuelled again at Beaudesert, headed across to Tamborine and, eventually, Beenleigh. I’d not ridden the stretch from just west of Tamborine to Beenleigh before and it, too, was surprisingly pleasant; reminiscent of some of the Sunshine Coast hinterland where I ride much of the time.
From Beenleigh it was a straight blast up the freeway to Brisbane. I stopped to buy some fuel stabiliser and an allen key to tighten my helmet visor and was home way too quickly. Actually that’s not quite how it ended. I didn’t go straight home. I paused to meet the family at the Southbank Parkland in Brisbane — a fabulous public park created on the site of Expo88. That turned into a splendid dinner at a Spanish restaurant where we had some excellent salmon and an exquisite shoulder of lamb. I would have liked a glass of wine to help it along, but I abstained as I had to ride the CB home. Which I did. In the night, when there’s something magical about the glow of the CB’s gauges.
The next day, I put some stabiliser in the tank, topped it off, oiked the bike onto the centre stand, connected the battery tender, over-pumped the front tyre, put the loose vented cover on it, sniffed quietly, wiped my eyes and said ‘farewell until next time’.
