Day 11: Cooma to Boorowa
23 March 2017
Click on the image for a detailed map
We rolled down the street to get fuel and check our tyres. There’d been an odd clunk from the back of my bike the day before which I figured had been the chain so we visited the Cooma Bike Shop where some kind blokes lent me spanners large enough to get the rear axle nut undone and adjust the chain. It fixed the noise.
Pterodactyl was limping and in pain; Inhouse Bob was suffering indigestion and didn’t yet want to eat; and I was crapulous. We lit out for Adaminaby a small town famous for its big trout. I’ve talked about Australia’s fascination with[i]Big Things[/i] here.
Of course it was again pouring with rain by the time I’d finished tightening the chain so, in our familiar armour we set off. It turned out to be a shower and it was soon pleasant if overcast before another shower hit us. And repeat.
At Adaminaby we took the obligatory photo of the Big Trout before adjourning across the road to the eponymous café
I can’t remember what Inhouse Bob ordered to eat. He had his usual coke to drink while Pterodactyl and I had eggs and bacon with coffee. The proprietor, Constantine, was obviously of Greek extraction and Pterodactyl asked him for some fetta on the side. He told us there wasn’t any and then explained that the good burghers of Adaminaby weren’t impressed by fetta when he’s first arrived so he now stuck to a simpler repertoire more acceptable to the locals.
We chatted about motorcycles while we ate. Constantine was a rider and had owned a few bikes in his time, the latest being a BMW. He was also clearly starved of company.
Not much happens in Adaminaby so Pterodactyl made use of the ladies’ section of the public toilets as it wasn’t as far to walk as the mens’. Needless to say, a car pulled up and two women climbed out and headed for the bathroom. I suggested they wait a moment, which they did. After they’d finished we were all chatting. They asked about the café and the quality of the coffee. We said it was fine and they set off across the road. As they walked away, Pterodactyl said “Ask him for some fetta.”
We rode on across a pretty alpine landscape. After a few kilometres it was new to me. A great road with agreeable alpine scenery, good sweeping corners then and interesting descent to Talbingo.
We refuelled at the Dog on the Tuckerbox, checked out the statue and headed up Australia’s main intercity road in the rain. Again. Poor Bob.
Just after Harden, the rain set in with such a vengeance that visibility was extremely limited. It was still pouring down when we got to Boorowa and stopped for a cup of tea. According to my plan, we had at least another 2 hours riding ahead of us in uncertain conditions. The Boorowa pub is an OK place, so I called a halt to proceedings and with unspoken relief watched the rain continue to pelt down while we spread our wet gear all over the upstairs balcony.
The only other photograph I took that day confirms officially that Inhouse Bob has achieved the status of legend.
