For the next few weeks my shoulders were stiff and painful when I moved them, and I had some pretty spectacular bruises on my left hip. But even more spectacular was the haematoma at the juncture of my left hip and thigh. I would post a photo, but my blog would lose its G rating.
to cut a long story short, I was scheduled for surgery to drain the thing, but a week before had it aspirated by needle in my GP’s surgery. A great relief! During this time I had been in touch with my insurance company who, in my view, were not moving quickly enough to ship my bike back from Hay. Eventually I discovered that the assessor suspected, from photos, that the frame was bent; and they did not want to send someone all that way to confirm it. So I shared some additional photos I had and... they declared the bike a statutory write-off. The bike was less than two years old, and my policy provided a new-for-old in that circumstance. I immediately called BMW: do you have an F850GSA? No, but there is one on the ship, arriving next week. It is the black and yellow 40th Anniversary model. No colour choice. C’est la vie. Firstly, I am grateful to God I managed to walk away from the stack. Secondly, while a new bike is always nice, I would far rather still have my old one, nicely set up and with brand new tyres; and a weeks worth of blogging and photos on this webpage. There will be more rides, Deo volente.
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Due to my regrettable, unseemly dismount which rendered both my bike and myself unroadworthy, I retired home to Melbourne to lick my wounds and experience the continuing disappointment of missing out on the ride to which I had so long looked forward. At this point I must acknowledge with grateful thanks the care and concern of my riding companions and then, in a very big way, my wife, Liz, who dropped everything at home and drove to fetch me in Griffith.
Steve and David have continued taking photos which they have shared on our WhatsApp group and I have resolved to post those on here. Steve has also provided some commentary, something which David still has to learn :-D So, please click on the photos tab and enjoy with me what I missed. The morning dawned fresh and clear in Balaranald, portending good riding weather.
After a good night’s sleep, we were kitted up and ready to look for breakfast very soon after 08:00. But first, a quick stop to peek into a window on the Main Street that we had observed on our stroll home from dinner the evening before. Have you ever seen a shop with an aircraft inside it? You have? Well, have you seen one containing two - and a few other things besides? Here in Balranald NSW there is a group of enthusiasts who would appear to be great admirers of Sir Charles Kingsford-Smith, the famous Australian who established quite a number of aviation records in the first half of the twentieth century. And here they have, for public viewing and admiration - and surely education - two replicas of his famous aircraft: Southern Cross and Lady Southern Cross. The museum opens at 10:00 and even though we have some time flexibility on this, a relatively short riding day, we decided it was not a priority for us. Breakfast was found at a café next to the town information centre and consumed with restrained gusto. We talked about high finance and how some CEO’s destroyed shareholder value on a large scale, some with relative impunity. Breakfast done, we set off for about 50 kms of bitumen before we hit the dirt. Said dirt was dry and hard-packed, making for very easy riding, aided by very long straight stretches and very gentle curves now and again. Our first photo stop was on the sealed road, but the prop, a rather old steam engine at the entrance to a station (not a farm) was too good to miss. There was almost no traffic, just a few large trucks throwing up immense clouds of dust. Generally speaking the dust did not trouble us as we were riding hundreds of metres apart. We did come across a road construction crew in the middle of nowhere, doing a lot of work. Would they be sealing it? We hope not! Greg was leading; and his eagle eye spotted items of interest off to the side; and now and again we would stop to inspect, for example, a dry dam scrape with exquisite, tiny flowers growing on the dry bed. As I was riding number two, I saw some of the things he saw, which the other two might, and sometimes did, miss. They missed the herd of emus; but we all marvelled at the wedge tail eagle soaring above. Looking up was something we did regularly, as the cloud formations were often very interesting and attractive. One I spotted was quite unusual, so I stopped the bike and pulled out my camera. See the result on the photos page. We approached a few houses or buildings which the cartographers have identified as Oxley. We turned north before we actually got there, and I swung into the lead, misunderstanding a gesture from Greg, who had turned around. I enjoy leading, so I led. I also led with the first stack of the ride. Tootling along very happily and, without warning, I hit a long patch of soft, deep sand. Seconds later I hit the ground, somehow leading with both my chest and left hip. I lay still for a few moments, and didn’t feel anything broken. I rolled onto my back and stood up at about the time Greg and the others arrived. They had stopped for a photo and wondered why I had taken off down the road. So much for sign language! My clutch cable was broken, as were both mirrors. My pannier frame (I hope it is just the pannier frame) is bent. The side stand is not swinging up freely. I discovered later the handle of my brush, in my toilet bag, in a soft pannier, also broke. I rested while Greg jerry-rigged my clutch with some soft wire. Steve pillioned me out to the sealed road and then took David back who rode my bike out. We had a snack for lunch (I am not a fan of scroggin) and decided to ride for Hay, some 90 kms away, where we would spend the night. I used the clutch only once on that journey, relying on the quick shift feature of the bike. Soon after starting on the long haul to Hay, a warning light flashed on my dashboard: my rear tyre pressure had fallen sharply. I thought I would watch it closely and, if it continued to fall, would make a decision about stopping to look into it. Fortunately, although the pressure did continue to decline, it was still within my margin of tolerance - but only just - by the time we got to Hay. Straight to a garage to find an air pump!. Then to the motel where I showered and after which I was kindly pillioned to the Hay Hospital by Steve to be checked out. Now, I have not been a guest of the public health system in decades. Things do not move quickly if they think you are likely to still be alive in an hour or two. They eventually looked at me and determined that I should be transferred to Griffith Bae Hospital for further examination and perhaps a chest scan. I immediately revolted against the idea, but was prevailed upon to be cautious. Having agreed at about 18:30 to go to Griffith, the ambos strolled in at 22:00 and put me in the back at 22:30 for the 90 minute drive to Griffith. A new nurse and a new doc. The nurse suggested she wanted to IV me in preparation for dye in my blood to which I said she should not come within five feet of me with anything that might threaten the integrity of my epidermis. She did not push the matter and the new doc pushed, prodded and poked me, ran an ECG (huh?) took my blood pressure multiple times and asked me lots of questions. Eventually he said "Why did they send you here?" Good question! He ordered X-rays of my chest just be be sure and at 02:00 came in and said I could go home. Fortunately for me they have overnight apartments and I was popped in there and left to my own devices until Liz arrived at about 15:30 to take me to Hay to fetch my stuff. The guys had in the meantime taken my bike to the repair shop to await recovery by my insurance company; and proceeded on the ride. I am still so very disappointed that I was out, but very grateful I was able to walk away from my stack. My thoughts have turned to a formal sand riding course and a return to this amazing, challenging countryside. I will post some photos from the guys over the next few days. But for now, my trip is over really before it got started. C'est la vie. It was rather cloudy, fresh (16C) -but dry - when the four of us gathered at the petrol station just beyond the Calder Dome. At the agreed time of 08h30, all having filled our tanks, we set off on our journey. Yesterday, Greg had commented that the BMW Motorcycle Club of Victoria, of which we are all members, was holding a rally in Maldon to celebrate the 45th anniversary of the founding of the club. He suggested that, as it was only a minor detour from our route, we pop in and say hello. This we did; and it was very pleasant seeing a few of our fellow members and a wonderful array of bikes!
We were ready before 8:30am and so rode down to Little Crumb Bakery and Cafe in the main road for breakfast. Such cheerful, obliging folk; and David opined it was THE best smashed avo of his life! Tom needed to spend some time with his brother who lives in Apollo Bay, so did not join us for breakfast nor the morning's ride. We talked a lot while we ate (a regular failing of ours) and so departed Apollo Bay towards the west a little after the appointed time. We were a little concerned about the weather, as the forecast was for 5 - 10mm of rain and indeed, the radar was showing a huge band to the north east. Freshly down from Sydney, we thought. Plan A was to stick to Plan A ie gravel roads; but if it rained too much, plan B was to hit the (sealed) Princes Highway and head back to Melbourne. As so often happens, the weather forecast, if it was accurate at all, was accurate in a location or locations different to ours. So, during the morning and early afternoon we contended with dust, not mud. On Saturday evening, Tom's brother Matt, who lives in Apollo Bay, had joined us for a beer after dinner; and discussion ensued about roads and things to see. Binn's Road was mentioned, as was the stand of Californian Redwoods. Yes, you read that correctly. As an experiment, the Forests Commission of Victoria in 1936 planted a stand of Californian Redwoods in a verdant valley in the Otways. Planted on the bank of a small river, the site receives high winter rainfall and summer fogs. It is protected from the wind so, with such perfect growing conditions, these trees are now reaching 60 metres tall! This is really impressive and it was well worth the short stop. It is worth noting that over the two days we had a handful of instances where trees had fallen over and partly obstructed the roads. Our original intention was to proceed along certain dirt roads and meet Tom for lunch in Forest. That fell by the wayside when we saw an interesting looking cafe in Gellibrand. The staff were pleasant and helpful and the owner likes adventure bikes, selling bike equipment in another business. Tom made contact with David and he decided to wait for us in Forest. After lunch and a couple of stops to check the map, we duly caught up with Tom and proceeded to turn for home. We made a pit stop in Birregurra and discussed the fact that it is the home of "Brae" a high-end, very popular restaurant. Our cafe was pleasant, but definitely not high-end. Our dirt riding was over and we proceeded along the black top, reaching the M1 just short of Winchelsea. Double lane and freeway followed which, apart from some light but steady rain, presented an uneventful ride. As we approached Melbourne, we started peeling off off one by one at our home exits, hands raised in salute and farewell. Thanks to Greg for organising the accommodation and to David for planning the routes and leading. There was only one short section where the road, recently graded, provided some slippy conditions going into corners. Thus the weekend was adjudged fun, not training. Which is why Greg says we must do another day in sand before the Big Trip. That may well get a mention here. Please note: There are more photos in the Photos tab. We were all on time this morning. Tom and David more on time than the others, but they might as well have been ships passing in the night. Promptly at 9:00 we started down the freeway, past Geelong and along the slow stretch to Anglesea where we had coffee at our usual spot. Simon ordered a mug of coffee but drank Duncan’s cup. Confusion in the camp when the mug arrived, but all ended well.
In no particular haste, we eventually got ourselves going north of Anglesea on packed gravel. A few kms of tar and then back on gravel, travelling through the eucalyptus forests of the Grand Otway National Park. The countryside was very pretty with only some minor technical sections, where we rode on almond sized pebbles. The steering felt very skittish, which was not helped by the back wheel also dancing around. We took an early lunch in Deans Marsh as we were not confident of supplies further on. Lunch was not healthy, but it was tasty. David led the charge through the forests, stopping every now and then to consult his detailed map. Not once did we get lost, a miracle for our group! From the photos you might think we were lost. No, just ensuring we didn’t get lost! We did pause a couple of times at road closed signs, but as with previous rides, we regard them merely as advisories, not mandatories. After negotiating the very pleasant closed road from the Otway Fly, we came across a locked boom gate. There was a sign blocking off a path on the side of it. A Swiss Army knife dealt with the cable tie and on we went. We had afternoon tea at the artists café and got into a deep discussion about the way society is now handling the issue of sexuality. A most vexed question. More dirt roads followed until we connected with the Great Ocean Road between Portland and Apollo Bay.. Do we take the tar? No, we take the Old Ocean Road, which rejoins the tar later on. The final thirty kms to Apollo Bay were handled in fine style, with lovely sweeping bends. Our accommodation is no palace, but we all had a bed and the shower was hot. Duly refreshed, we strolled the few hundred metres down to the main road, looking for dinner. We were surprised at how many eateries were closed, especially on a Saturday evening. We were also surprised, looking in the windows of the realtors, how expensive properties are here. It is rather far from Melbourne for week-enders.. So to the pub we went. The fish and chips and salad were acceptable and a few beers and glasses of wine stretched the evening very pleasantly to nine o’clock. After walking home, we settled down in the lounge with tea and the area map to discuss the route for Sunday. That done, we talked about things to do with motorcycles! Ready to leave for breakfast at 8:30. Heading for the hills at 9. One does not simply roll out of bed of a morning and head off for an eight day ride in potentially difficult, if not hazardous, terrain. Being sensible suggests that preparation is required. We are sensible and thus have done one day of training in some deep-ish sand behind Anglesea. And tomorrow we mount our steeds for a trip down a dirt road of over 200 kms behind Anglesea, through the Otways and down to Apollo Bay where we will spend the night. Riding on dirt is fun. Riding in sand is training. We hope there is a balance of the two. However, the ride is also to pack as if this was THE trip. Never before have I packed a week of clothing for one night away.
We have had a few discussions as to what will be carried; and by whom. Yours truly was volunteered for the tow strap, which of course we all hope will remain pristine in its wrapper. Members of the group have been investing in new gear. I guess helmets do require replacement every number of years. I have aluminium panniers but have been persuaded that if I tumble, they - and the bike - are likely to suffer significant damage. Soft panniers are therefore indicated and a fellow club member Steve B has very kindly lent me a pair. Interestingly, our little group is expanding! For this ride we are being joined by Tom and Steve, so five we are. But famous we are not; and we hope it remains that way. Better still, Steve has put up his hand for the NSW ride. Apart from enjoying his company, there is a significant safety aspect to this. If something goes wrong, two people can ride for help and two people can stay at the scene of the incident. Steve is also young and strong. However, we are of course trusting our that thoughts in relation to this remain in the realm of the hypothetical. Standby for tomorrow's report and hopefully some photos. |
AuthorDuncan & Liz are keen travellers, doing less than they would like but appreciating what opportunities present. Duncan loves his motorcycle and Liz loves it more at the end of a trip! Archives
June 2021
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