Today turns out to be the lowest point of the trip so far. The campsite is right on the outskirts of Penola. It's also near a major trucking route so all night long I'm woken by the teeth rattling sounds of air brakes. In the morning some cretin in the campsite, seemingly metres from my tent, decides to rev the last few horsepower out of his car engine until all the neighborhood dogs start howling in protest. And to top it all off, it's raining again.
Faaark.
It rained all night and continues to rain all morning. There is nothing I own that is not soaked and muddy. Dave looks like he's about to pack it all in and I'm starting to feel that way as well. The local forecast predicts 3 more days of this shitty weather. Dave and I make an executive decision to get out of this hell hole.
We pack the gear with mud included and start riding north through the drizzle. There's a bitterly cold crosswind that blows strong enough to occasionally throw the bike out of balance. We're also fighting on the roads with tourists returning to Adelaide after the long weekend. They're in climate controlled luxury trucks and they seem to be oblivious to what's going on around them. I curse loudly into my helmet.
By the time we arrive at Keith (the town) the drizzle has stopped and a silver lining has appeared. Literally. In the distance we see clear skies. Soon we're back in gorgeous sunlight. My mood is massively improved.
We stop for fuel in Tailem Bend and are quickly pounced upon by a pack of motorcyclists. They ask all sorts of questions about the bikes, the gear and the trip. One guy is particularly impressed by the bashplate on my bike. I have to admit it is a sexy bashplate. They all express quiet awe when they learn Dave got permission from "the wife" to go on a biking holiday for three months. They want to know the secret but Dave isn't letting on.
The remainder of today is a brilliant ride through Barossa Valley and the surrounding regions. The roads are dry and winding and fast with utterly spectacular views. It is exactly the sort of riding I wanted from this trip. The only negatives are the encroaching darkness and the bitter cold. I can see myself coming back here in the summer.
We arrive at Clare (the town) in the Clare Valley just slightly after dark. Neither of us feels up to another miserable morning so we book a motel room and dry the gear in front of the heater.
Monday, June 9, 2008
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Wet Wet Wet
It rained overnight in Warrnambool and the tents are soaked through again. Waking up to these cold and wet mornings is really starting to get me down. The rain eases temporarily so off we go again.
On the advice of the campsite owner there's a local whale nursery worth checking out. We find the location and there are dozens of people with binoculars but there's a notable absence of whales. A local is selling photos of whales from years past for only $5. No thanks.
The first stop for today is Port Fairy, which is where we would have camped last night if the light had lasted a bit longer. There's not much reason to linger so we head onto Portland and then north to the Prehistoric Forest.
The Prehistoric Forest turns out to be a misleading name. The rock formations do look a little bit like tree trunks but apparently they're formed from chemical reactions to the limestone. It's a spooky environment. Almost no plant life grows on the rocks and the whole area is on a high cliff dropping into the sea. The site is barren and desolate and lifeless. I get the feeling I'm standing on the Moon with its cratered surface.
More impressive (to me) than the "forest" are more of these fantastic wind turbines. They're only a few metres away from the road and they are simply massive. I picked up a brochure in Portland with technical details. The blades are over 30 metres long and the entire windfarm produces one eighth of South Australia's electricity needs.
We continue to head north. The intention is to camp in the Coonawarra wine region. The rain starts falling again and the roads are slick. Fortunately this is an agricultural area where the roads are very long and very straight, so we get up a good speed and cover a fair distance. However going fast through a winter drizzle is doing nothing for my mood.
We pick the first camping ground we find in Penola. The forecast for tomorrow is more rain. Bah. I'm looking forward to the unbearable heat of Western Australia.
On the advice of the campsite owner there's a local whale nursery worth checking out. We find the location and there are dozens of people with binoculars but there's a notable absence of whales. A local is selling photos of whales from years past for only $5. No thanks.
The first stop for today is Port Fairy, which is where we would have camped last night if the light had lasted a bit longer. There's not much reason to linger so we head onto Portland and then north to the Prehistoric Forest.
The Prehistoric Forest turns out to be a misleading name. The rock formations do look a little bit like tree trunks but apparently they're formed from chemical reactions to the limestone. It's a spooky environment. Almost no plant life grows on the rocks and the whole area is on a high cliff dropping into the sea. The site is barren and desolate and lifeless. I get the feeling I'm standing on the Moon with its cratered surface.
More impressive (to me) than the "forest" are more of these fantastic wind turbines. They're only a few metres away from the road and they are simply massive. I picked up a brochure in Portland with technical details. The blades are over 30 metres long and the entire windfarm produces one eighth of South Australia's electricity needs.
We continue to head north. The intention is to camp in the Coonawarra wine region. The rain starts falling again and the roads are slick. Fortunately this is an agricultural area where the roads are very long and very straight, so we get up a good speed and cover a fair distance. However going fast through a winter drizzle is doing nothing for my mood.
We pick the first camping ground we find in Penola. The forecast for tomorrow is more rain. Bah. I'm looking forward to the unbearable heat of Western Australia.
Saturday, June 7, 2008
Sightseeing
It rained overnight and everything is soaked through. The sun makes a brief appearance in the morning so we seize the opportunity to pack up the sodden tents and get the hell out of Apollo Bay. The Great Ocean Road is calling!
The rain is still coming down but the showers are isolated. Some sections of the road are bone dry yet other sections are slick with fresh rain. Every now and then it drizzles a fine mist that permeates even the wet weather gear. It's enough to make you miserable and cold but we decide to press on anyway.
The first goal for today is Cape Otway Lighthouse which is in the Cape Otway National Park. The ride through the park is... interesting. The roads are narrow and wet and covered in light green moss. Even Dave seems fazed by the riding conditions for once.
The lighthouse exhibit turns out to be worth the hassle. It was constructed in the mid-1800s, originally burning whale oil, later converted to kerosene, then converted to electric in the 1930s. Now it is has been replaced by an automatic solar-powered "lighthouse" in a separate building. We climb the old tower to take a closer look at the mechanism. The lenses weigh several tonnes but float on a bed of mercury so we're able to set the mechanism spinning with the lightest touch. The power source that turned the lenses used to be clockwork, similar to that found in a grandfather clock. It's very impressive.
The next stop is the Cape Otway Fly. It's a suspended steel walkway in the middle of a forest. At the highest point you are more than 100 feet above the ground. It's impressive from an engineering perspective but I can't help feel that it misses the point. It seems to put the forest in a cage, like those depressing zoo walks that take you past the neatly caged and labeled animals.
It's back to the last hilly section of the Great Ocean Road. This is supposedly the best bit and it might have been if it wasn't being resurfaced at the time. The steep and twisty downhill section is covered in loose gravel. Despite going well under the recommended speed the front wheel keeps sliding out at every corner. Argh.
The rest of the Great Ocean Road is highway quality so we just let the bikes loose. Dave wants to do the usual tourist thing and take photos at the Twelve Apostles and London Bridge. Unfortunately the sites are covered in people. There are buckets of cars and several coaches of foreign tourists. It probably doesn't help it's a Saturday and also a long weekend. I'm getting a bit fed up with crowds. I got enough of that in Mellbourne.
With all the sightseeing today we've covered barely any distance. Despite our best efforts to make up for lost ground we both run out of enthusiasm at Warrnambool.
The rain is still coming down but the showers are isolated. Some sections of the road are bone dry yet other sections are slick with fresh rain. Every now and then it drizzles a fine mist that permeates even the wet weather gear. It's enough to make you miserable and cold but we decide to press on anyway.
The first goal for today is Cape Otway Lighthouse which is in the Cape Otway National Park. The ride through the park is... interesting. The roads are narrow and wet and covered in light green moss. Even Dave seems fazed by the riding conditions for once.
The lighthouse exhibit turns out to be worth the hassle. It was constructed in the mid-1800s, originally burning whale oil, later converted to kerosene, then converted to electric in the 1930s. Now it is has been replaced by an automatic solar-powered "lighthouse" in a separate building. We climb the old tower to take a closer look at the mechanism. The lenses weigh several tonnes but float on a bed of mercury so we're able to set the mechanism spinning with the lightest touch. The power source that turned the lenses used to be clockwork, similar to that found in a grandfather clock. It's very impressive.
The next stop is the Cape Otway Fly. It's a suspended steel walkway in the middle of a forest. At the highest point you are more than 100 feet above the ground. It's impressive from an engineering perspective but I can't help feel that it misses the point. It seems to put the forest in a cage, like those depressing zoo walks that take you past the neatly caged and labeled animals.
It's back to the last hilly section of the Great Ocean Road. This is supposedly the best bit and it might have been if it wasn't being resurfaced at the time. The steep and twisty downhill section is covered in loose gravel. Despite going well under the recommended speed the front wheel keeps sliding out at every corner. Argh.
The rest of the Great Ocean Road is highway quality so we just let the bikes loose. Dave wants to do the usual tourist thing and take photos at the Twelve Apostles and London Bridge. Unfortunately the sites are covered in people. There are buckets of cars and several coaches of foreign tourists. It probably doesn't help it's a Saturday and also a long weekend. I'm getting a bit fed up with crowds. I got enough of that in Mellbourne.
With all the sightseeing today we've covered barely any distance. Despite our best efforts to make up for lost ground we both run out of enthusiasm at Warrnambool.
Friday, June 6, 2008
Great Ocean Road
Melbourne was hectic and stressful and I'm glad we're leaving. It was nice having hot showers and good food but I want to get back to the riding.
The trip out of Melbourne is much calmer than the trip in. It rains lightly but not even that is going to darken my mood today. Because today we start on the Great Ocean Road.
First stop is Torquay and then onto the world famous Bell's Beach. This is one of the most popular (and insane) surf beaches. There are the usual mad surfers in the freezing water and a couple of paragliders catching lift off the cliffs. An ancient Tiger Moth flies past at 500 feet. One day I want to fly one of those planes myself.
The Great Ocean Road is reknowned for tight corners, hairpins, steep climbs and descents. It's everything a motorcyclist could ask for. The start of the Great Ocean Road is marked on the highway by a wooden arch over the road, similar to the arches over the finish line on grand prix circuits. It's probably sending the wrong message to motorists, especially given the accident rate on this stretch, but it feels right nonetheless.
Unfortunately no sooner than I start the stretch does the rain begin. It's only a light drizzle but it makes the road slippery and unpredictable. I'm a terrible wet weather rider and with 100 foot cliff face drops to my left, I take it very cautiously. I don't know where the wet limits are on this bike annd this is the wrong road to find out.
Thankfully the showers are isolated and soon the road turns dry. I open the bike up and wring it for all she's worth. The V-Strom never fails to deliver. The third gear has enough torque to pull through an uphill hairpin, yet enough legs to sprint out to [ed: the speed limit of 80kph] on the straights. I keep trying to sneak glances at the scenery, aware that it's all blurring past so quickly, but there's simply no time. The bike dips quickly into each corner but I have to give it my full attention.
It starts to turn dark and gloomy once we reach Apollo Bay so we make camp there. More of the Ocean Road tomorrow... the weather report says early morning drizzle, that will make for an exciting ride.
The trip out of Melbourne is much calmer than the trip in. It rains lightly but not even that is going to darken my mood today. Because today we start on the Great Ocean Road.
First stop is Torquay and then onto the world famous Bell's Beach. This is one of the most popular (and insane) surf beaches. There are the usual mad surfers in the freezing water and a couple of paragliders catching lift off the cliffs. An ancient Tiger Moth flies past at 500 feet. One day I want to fly one of those planes myself.
The Great Ocean Road is reknowned for tight corners, hairpins, steep climbs and descents. It's everything a motorcyclist could ask for. The start of the Great Ocean Road is marked on the highway by a wooden arch over the road, similar to the arches over the finish line on grand prix circuits. It's probably sending the wrong message to motorists, especially given the accident rate on this stretch, but it feels right nonetheless.
Unfortunately no sooner than I start the stretch does the rain begin. It's only a light drizzle but it makes the road slippery and unpredictable. I'm a terrible wet weather rider and with 100 foot cliff face drops to my left, I take it very cautiously. I don't know where the wet limits are on this bike annd this is the wrong road to find out.
Thankfully the showers are isolated and soon the road turns dry. I open the bike up and wring it for all she's worth. The V-Strom never fails to deliver. The third gear has enough torque to pull through an uphill hairpin, yet enough legs to sprint out to [ed: the speed limit of 80kph] on the straights. I keep trying to sneak glances at the scenery, aware that it's all blurring past so quickly, but there's simply no time. The bike dips quickly into each corner but I have to give it my full attention.
It starts to turn dark and gloomy once we reach Apollo Bay so we make camp there. More of the Ocean Road tomorrow... the weather report says early morning drizzle, that will make for an exciting ride.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Destination Melbourne
We only spent one night at Wilson's Promonotory. If it wasn't winter I could have spent the whole three months there. The beaches are pristine. The nature walks are abundant. The wildlife is so tame it's beyond belief. There were native birds roosting on the bikes. One rosella took a keen interest in the canping gear. Emu and kangaroos grazed at the roadside.
But it is far too cold. A quick visit to the beach put to rest any hope of swimming. The ride out was uneventful despite damp roads. Our goal for today is to reach Dave's mates place in Mellbourne where we have flloorspace for a few nights.
The planned route is via Inverloch and here's the first hiccup of the trip. Dave has tthe GPS so he's in the lead. I see him ride straight past the turnoff we should have taken. Seems his GPS has decided the quickest route isn't the sealed highway but instead a corrugated dirt road. I'm unimpressed but this is good practise for the coming weeks. The bikes handle the dirt well despite the extra weight from the luggage.
We're soon back on sealed roads and off to see the holy land of motosport... Phillip Island. After crossing the gigantic bridge that connects the island to the mainland we then spend a good 20 minutes before getting to the track. I had no idea it was that remote. I had high expectations but the visitor's centre turned out to be a bit of a dud. You can't go on the track unless it's a paid training course. You can't even photograph the track unless you pay for a tour. Fark that. I amused myself by taking photographs of the scale replica slot-car and go-kart tracks instead.
Alll that's left for today is the ride into Melbourne. This turns out to be the most stressful bit of road I've ever taken. Hghway speeds with multiple lanes and trucks farking everywhere. There's nothing fun about being surrounded on all sides by double trailers and mad Melbourne drivers who change lanes without looking. I count my lucky stars when we pull into the quiet back streets of Newmarket. After several days of empty roads and perfect riding, Melbourne traffic is an unwelcome shock.
No matter. Now is the time to get supplies before heading back to the great outdoors.
But it is far too cold. A quick visit to the beach put to rest any hope of swimming. The ride out was uneventful despite damp roads. Our goal for today is to reach Dave's mates place in Mellbourne where we have flloorspace for a few nights.
The planned route is via Inverloch and here's the first hiccup of the trip. Dave has tthe GPS so he's in the lead. I see him ride straight past the turnoff we should have taken. Seems his GPS has decided the quickest route isn't the sealed highway but instead a corrugated dirt road. I'm unimpressed but this is good practise for the coming weeks. The bikes handle the dirt well despite the extra weight from the luggage.
We're soon back on sealed roads and off to see the holy land of motosport... Phillip Island. After crossing the gigantic bridge that connects the island to the mainland we then spend a good 20 minutes before getting to the track. I had no idea it was that remote. I had high expectations but the visitor's centre turned out to be a bit of a dud. You can't go on the track unless it's a paid training course. You can't even photograph the track unless you pay for a tour. Fark that. I amused myself by taking photographs of the scale replica slot-car and go-kart tracks instead.
Alll that's left for today is the ride into Melbourne. This turns out to be the most stressful bit of road I've ever taken. Hghway speeds with multiple lanes and trucks farking everywhere. There's nothing fun about being surrounded on all sides by double trailers and mad Melbourne drivers who change lanes without looking. I count my lucky stars when we pull into the quiet back streets of Newmarket. After several days of empty roads and perfect riding, Melbourne traffic is an unwelcome shock.
No matter. Now is the time to get supplies before heading back to the great outdoors.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Just Gets Better
I wake up with a god awful hangover; RSL food never quite agrees with me. Dave is already awake looking chipper and cheerful... damnit!
As we're getting ready to leave we notice the camping ground is chockers with grey nomads. One of them swoops down on us to chat about the bikes. He used to ride old school Triumphs back in the 50s. He reckons windshields and farings are for nancies. I point out my bike has ABS and he just shakes his head in despair. Generational gap, I reckon.
The goal today is to reach Wilson's Promonotory. The roads have suddenly become flat and straight and entirely boring. Dave relieves the tedium by navigating to 90 Mile Beach. The view, standing somewhere in the middle, is breathtaking. I idly comment that the beach goes on forever. Dave assures me it only goes on for 90 miles.
Near the end of the day we chance across a windfarm. I love these things; they speak to me of progress and the future. This farm is high on a cliff face and it's open to the public. The ride up to the farm is a superb twisty low-gear hill climb with a sheer cliff drop on one side, which is the sort of road I live for. The lookout is across luscious green fields. Well worth the diversion.
We eventually find ourselves at the national park. Only now do I understand why Dave was so keen to camp here. The ride through the park is a motorcyclist's dream. Undulating hills, steep climbs, tight turns, and perfectly maintained tarmac. To top it all off, every corner exposes yet another jaw dropping view. Several times I had to stop to take photos.
More of this tomorrow. I can hardly wait.
As we're getting ready to leave we notice the camping ground is chockers with grey nomads. One of them swoops down on us to chat about the bikes. He used to ride old school Triumphs back in the 50s. He reckons windshields and farings are for nancies. I point out my bike has ABS and he just shakes his head in despair. Generational gap, I reckon.
The goal today is to reach Wilson's Promonotory. The roads have suddenly become flat and straight and entirely boring. Dave relieves the tedium by navigating to 90 Mile Beach. The view, standing somewhere in the middle, is breathtaking. I idly comment that the beach goes on forever. Dave assures me it only goes on for 90 miles.
Near the end of the day we chance across a windfarm. I love these things; they speak to me of progress and the future. This farm is high on a cliff face and it's open to the public. The ride up to the farm is a superb twisty low-gear hill climb with a sheer cliff drop on one side, which is the sort of road I live for. The lookout is across luscious green fields. Well worth the diversion.
We eventually find ourselves at the national park. Only now do I understand why Dave was so keen to camp here. The ride through the park is a motorcyclist's dream. Undulating hills, steep climbs, tight turns, and perfectly maintained tarmac. To top it all off, every corner exposes yet another jaw dropping view. Several times I had to stop to take photos.
More of this tomorrow. I can hardly wait.
Monday, June 2, 2008
... Go
The day has arrived. The bags are packed. It was a close call; I was still packing at 2am.
Dave sends me an SMS saying he wants an 11am start. That works for me because I could do with some sleep. The weather in Canberra when I wake up is not bad; a bit cloudy and slightly cool but comfortable enough. I meet him in Duffy and after some heartfelt goodbyes between him and his missus (that's Kirsten) we're off on The Odyssey.
The first leg is to Cooma and then to Nimmitabel. Dave reckons the pie shop in Nimmitabel is awesome so we stop there for lunch. I've been past Nimmitabel before but didn't drop in; won't make that mistake again because the pie was superb. Then we're off to Bombala. I don't know how Dave's handling it but I'm freezing my tits off. The weather that I thought was not bad turns out to be bloody awful at highway speeds. I'm hoping it's warmer at the coast.
From Bombala we turn onto the Cann River Road. I've ridden a few roads but this has to be one of the best I've experienced. Beautiful sweeping corners on perfectly smooth tarmac with spectacular scenery. Being on a bike means you get extra senses coming through and the crisp clean smell of the forrest is uplifting. At the bottom of the road we stop and reflect and grin from ear to ear as we simultaneously realise we have three months of this to look forward to.
We turn onto the Princes Highway towards Lake's Entrance, our end point for the first day. When we arrive it's already well past sunset so we pick the first camping ground we find, quickly put up the tents under the glow of headlights, then off to the local RSL for a feed. A pretty successful start to the trip.
Dave sends me an SMS saying he wants an 11am start. That works for me because I could do with some sleep. The weather in Canberra when I wake up is not bad; a bit cloudy and slightly cool but comfortable enough. I meet him in Duffy and after some heartfelt goodbyes between him and his missus (that's Kirsten) we're off on The Odyssey.
The first leg is to Cooma and then to Nimmitabel. Dave reckons the pie shop in Nimmitabel is awesome so we stop there for lunch. I've been past Nimmitabel before but didn't drop in; won't make that mistake again because the pie was superb. Then we're off to Bombala. I don't know how Dave's handling it but I'm freezing my tits off. The weather that I thought was not bad turns out to be bloody awful at highway speeds. I'm hoping it's warmer at the coast.
From Bombala we turn onto the Cann River Road. I've ridden a few roads but this has to be one of the best I've experienced. Beautiful sweeping corners on perfectly smooth tarmac with spectacular scenery. Being on a bike means you get extra senses coming through and the crisp clean smell of the forrest is uplifting. At the bottom of the road we stop and reflect and grin from ear to ear as we simultaneously realise we have three months of this to look forward to.
We turn onto the Princes Highway towards Lake's Entrance, our end point for the first day. When we arrive it's already well past sunset so we pick the first camping ground we find, quickly put up the tents under the glow of headlights, then off to the local RSL for a feed. A pretty successful start to the trip.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)