We rose at six, with the intention of leaving at around seven. I slept through my alarm, with Greg rousting me out of bed at ten minutes after the hour. That was my shower time! However, the clock was ticking and we wanted to be home before dusk.
We consumed our cereal and washed it down with a cup of tea. Greg had done some research on gun control but we cut the conversation short because getting on the road early was a compelling objective. While I was catching up with loading my bike, Greg commented on the beautiful sunrise. This was somewhat reminiscent of the sunrise at Hawker, which kicked off the meaningful part of our trip. A fitting bookend. And shortly after seven we were indeed on the road, with the weather being a very fresh five degrees. The route home was somewhat notional, with the only (somewhat) certain way point being Wycheproof, where we would probably have lunch. We travelled east on the Mallee Highway, much of the time parallel to the railway line, which we crossed fairly frequently. The big issue was the rising sun. Being so low in the sky, the peaks on our helmets were of no use at all, and on occasion we were blinded unless we shielded our eyes with one hand. This endured for perhaps an hour and, while the sun was moving north west and climbing higher, our course was changing south and east. We were then back in normal riding conditions. The plan for the day was to take a break approximately every one and a half hours, so our first opportunity occurred in the small farming village of Patchewollock. This area was first inhabited after the First World War, when it was established as a soldier settlement for returning military. Patchewollock, which apparently means “Plenty of Porcupine Grass” has a small museum which records the history of the area. There is very little in this village, with a population of less than 400. The most prominent feature is the painting on the grain elevator at the rail siding, which is a depiction of a local ma, Nick “Noodle” Hulland, by Brisbane artist Fintan Magee. Silo art is now fairly common in parts of Victoria and many people plan a route to visit these sites. Even the BMW MCC Victoria has organised a few rides of this nature. This particular art work is considered to be one of the most attractive. It certainly grew on me. Greg said that with such a prominent tourist attraction, he was sure there would be coffee nearby. Mate, this is Patchewollock, population less than 400. It is also 8.30 am on a freezing Sunday morning in regional Victoria. Greg had some trail mix and I ate some biltong. Back on the bikes, and our destination was Wycheproof. We had stopped here for lunch on the way up and, because the town is almost exactly halfway for the day’s riding, a most suitable place to take a break. We also refuelled for the last time and again cut short our conversation and hit the road. Today is unusual, because our riding time is vastly higher than our break time. During our trip it has not been unusual for our break time to approximate our time in the saddle. The road is now heading south east and we are beginning to sniff home. We start riding a little faster, but still observing the speed limit. However, the rain which was forecast for the latter part of our ride was evident in the skies ahead, and some distance before Bendigo, the forecast came to pass. It wasn’t heavy, but it was enough to make us damp. The temperature also dropped to around ten C which chilled us further. By now I was the full bottle on operating my heated vest, and as the temperature dropped, I tapped the rocker switch and dialled it up a notch.This is now an essential part of my riding wardrobe in cold weather. A little beyond Bendigo we pulled off into a well presented rest area, with many clean toilets and under cover areas. Greg was feeling the cold and we were due for a short rest. We did not stay long and we pressed on, to make a scheduled coffee break at the Calder Truck stop, from where we had commenced our trip a little over a week ago. A quick drink and a chat; and it was time to go home. This has been a wonderful experience. Only a small percentage of the Australian population have seen, or will ever see, the Finders Ranges. It is a long way away from the major population centres of the eat and south east, and not exactly an afternoon drive from Adelaide. Then there is the fact that you will need to take your vehicle on unsealed roads for extended distances. The area is remote, with a small population scattered over vast distances. Facilities are few, far between and very basic. Then there are even fewer people who will see what we saw, because you require either a four wheel drive vehicle, or a motorcycle that can traverse very rough terrain. And, dare I say, the willingness and ability to take it there. The scenery was beautiful, even when it was stark, rough and arid. We were fortunate to see the Ranges after some rain; and the locals said it had not been this green in twenty or more years. The challenges presented were not insane, but if we has been foolish or unfortunate, we could have been in serious difficulty. Fortunately our war stories are not too dramatic, but we will dine out on them for some time to come. We often spoke of David H who had to withdraw from the ride at the last minute due to being crook. However, Greg kept him and other members of our group informed by texts and photos using WhatsApp when we had wifi. My thanks to Greg for organising all aspects of the trip, from the routes to accommodation. For his company where on our stops and in the evening, we had wide-ranging conversations. And notwithstanding our differences of opinion, there was nary a hint of anger or aggression. A great travelling companion. Again, we did miss David, who also has strong opinions but is always friendly and civil. Finally, for his unflappable approach to the situation when my clutch failed in the middle of nowhere. Then for putting me on the back of his bike and riding us out on a very nasty track, in the dark. We always considered Greg to be the best rider among us, and I endorse that without reservation. And then, just to add icing to the cake, he fixed my clutch in a few minutes!! I don’t know what comes next, but, as much as I look forward to it, this ride will always be one of the best. Thanks for coming along on the ride. Duncan and Greg.
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Recalling how on the ride up, a late start to the day meant a late and tiring finish, we resolved to depart early and avoid that experience. Thus it was that at about eight we pulled away from Melrose, heading east for Booleroo where it was intended to refuel and find breakfast. It was three degrees. The sun was edging up over the horizon, peeking through bands of clouds. Mist was lying heavily in the depressions across the landscape and we had to repeatedly wipe condensation from our visors. I once again blessed the day I bought my heated jacket and wondered how I had previously managed without it. At Booleroo Centre Greg persuaded the self-serve petrol system to give him fuel and I could not. As I had plenty of range left - the benefits of the larger Adventure tank - I could easily make the next town or three. A fellow who arrived to fill his car was asked about places to eat in Booleroo. It turned out to be a ridiculous question and he directed us back to Melrose (no, we won’t do that) or forward to Jamestown, about half an hour to the east. Jamestown is another very attractive little town and we found a pleasant cafe where I enjoyed scrambled eggs and Greg settled for …. a banana! He also called David at Saturday morning coffee and we had a few minutes of chat and laughter. Mindful that we had a big day of riding ahead of us, we curtailed our conversation and took some advice from a couple of locals about which route to take to Burra, where we would refuel and have an early-ish lunch. That part of the world if infested with wind turbines. They despoil the otherwise beautiful landscape and rob the tax payers with every revolution of their sails. I detest their rent-seeking owners and the moronic governments who have permitted this assault on our landscape and our energy bills. We made good time to Burra and this time, stopped at the grand city hall and churches to take photos. Lunch, a quick chat, refuel and let’s go! We did not dally anywhere and made Pinnaroo well before dark. Our accommodation was superb. Two bedrooms, large living area, kitchen which was stocked with cereals and biscuits; and a good shower. Plus a shed in which we could park our bikes. Situated on a working olive farm, Oliveacres is a two minute ride from the centre of town, such as it is. Dinner at the pub and we tanked up on the way home. Over a cup of tea, we made up for our dearth of conversation during the day. Tonight was about gun control. Although Greg and I are pretty much political opposites, there are areas where we are not far apart. The great thing is that we can agree to disagree, without anger or rancour. Six am was fixed as rising time. We would have the provided cereal for breakfast and get on our way at seven or shortly thereafter. Tomorrow (DV) we will be home. After a very decent meal at the Northern Star pub and our usual wide-ranging conversation, Greg decreed that the only order of business for the morning was riding the Bridal Track outside the town. We would thus enjoy a bit of a sleep in, a leisurely breakfast and then the ride. This started off with rising at 8am and proceeding to the cafe next to the Mountain Bike Shop, which opened at 9. We arrived a little before 9 so popped into said mountain bike shop and engaged in a chat with the proprietor. Melrose is now a mountain biking Mecca. Looks like an expensive sport!
We enjoyed our breakfast next door and I mentioned to Greg that I planned to visit the nearby town of Booleroo Centre as it had a pharmacy. My blocked nose and cough needed some symptomatic treatment. Greg said he would join me in that excursion which was a round trip of some 32 kms and upon returning to Melrose we went straight to the start of the Bridal track. We opened the gate and negotiated a fairly muddy start. That soon dried out a few hundred metres up the hill, but we were soon stopped to look back at the lovely views. The track, very firmly designated as 4WD, we what I would call rather average in technicality most of the way, but there were sections that were stony and/or rutted and/or steep or all of those together. There was a fairly steep and stony climb to the top of a hill where the view to Spencer Gulf was quite spectacular. Then there was this section going down the escarpment which was actually highly technical, being steep, rocky and very deeply rutted. We negotiated it quite well, I thought. Greg also thought so for he turned tome and said “That was successful”. I immediately shot back “I don’t want to go back that way!” Greg said he hadn’t thought of that, but no, we weren’t. At the bottom we closed the gate on a fantastic ride. It combines all that is best of adventure riding. Dirt, some challenges and natural beauty. The sunny weather and mild temperatures just capped the ride of perfectly. The road back through the escarpment was sealed, but its good condition and many bends made it an excellent few minutes. Clearing the top, we turned off onto some random dirt and spent the next hour tooling around the farms of Melrose. There had been some rain and some standing water and a bit of mud were in evidence here and there. It was a pleasant finale to our time in Melrose. We would be starting for home in the morning and long stretches of sealed road will be our lot for the two days back to Melbourne. The remainder of the day was spent at leisure, followed by a decent meal at the competitor pu.In the morning we make tracks for Pinnaroo. Last night the Village put on an al fresco BBQ. As one might expect, there was a bit of a crush around the log fire. There atmosphere was quite jolly, with the falling temperatures being countered by loads of meat and accompaniments. The apple crumble and vanilla mousse were very popular.
We spent the evening chatting to two chaps from Sydney who were on pretty serious KTM’s. They are annual visitors to the Ranges and we held a lively and convivial exchange. Greg and I had agreed to meet at the bikes at 8 am, and of course I was very happy to be packing my bike for the ride, having been convinced yesterday that I was going home with the bike on a trailer. As we rode out, my temperature gauge started flashing the black ice warning at me, reading 2C. But there was no mist and no ice. In bright sunlight we set out on the road heading east. It met the North Flinders Way after 30 kms and we swung North for a moment to pop in at historic Balcanoona Station, before turning south with our coffee destination being once again, Blinman. Now while I was our recovering my bike yesterday, Greg did some solo riding to the hot springs, but in that very stony ground that is everywhere in the ranges, he bent his front rim. He was hopeful that his tyre had not sustained a puncture, but was disappointed in that regard when he came out to load his bike There is a service station at Arkaroola, so he pumped his tyre, with the view too checking after 50kms how bad the leak was. We stopped for that purpose at Prism Hill, where Greg stated that we would need to stop every 50kms for the remainder of the day in order to deploy his electric pump and literally keep him on the road. On the road to Blinman we saw the odd marsupial, but the highlight was the emu mum with her clutch of chicks. Greg stopped, and was momentarily concerned that she might vent her anxiety on him, as her chicks were running all over the road. Matters were resolved without incident when the chicks ran off the road into the bush, with the emu mum disappearing after them. A few kilometres short of Blinman we stopped at Hutch’s lookout. The photo shows how spectacular the scenery in the Flinders Ranges often is. At our coffee stop in Blinman we bumped into one of the workers from Arkaroola. It turned out she was on her way to Adelaide Airport to return to Germany. She wa rather disappointed because after three years in Australia, she had fallen in love in the country and wished to stay, however the Government in not interested in her degree in landscape architecture. We think… cancel that, we KNOW, that most governments are very poor at making good decisions. After our very pleasant tea and cake, we retraced our path of a few days earlier, heading for Hawker. We stopped there for lunch and I made a call concerning one of my interests, as there was to be a meeting that afternoon. So for fifteen minutes my mind was back in Melbourne. Time to head for Melrose, where we would be spending the night. We were now out of the Southern Ranges and, while there were still some hills and ranges on the route, there were also extensive pastoral lands. We found a very satisfactory dirt road for part of the way, which pleased us immensely, but eventually it ran out at Wilmington and we were back on the sealed road for the run in to Melrose. Melrose is the oldest town in that part of the word, said to have been established 182 years ago! It is very small, with a permanent population of approaching 400. It has become a tourist destination, especially for mountain biking in the Mt Remarkable Ranges which stand between the town and the Spencer Gulf. We checked into out spotlessly keen but very cosy room and then Greg replaced the inner tube on his bike and I caught up with blogging and attended a Zoom meeting which lasted over an hour :-(. We later walked to dinner at the historic Northern Star Hotel. Good pub food in a beautifully restored 18th century building where Greg and I continued our now established practice of engaging in long and wide-ranging conversations. A sleep-in tomorrow! Plans to ride the Bridal Trail are fully fledged! AT 7.20am I set myself up at the table in the garden outside my room, waiting to receive a call from Roadside Assist. To my surprise, they had emailed me late last night to say that the Logistics team would call me at 7.30 to discuss next steps. By 8.00 am they had still not called and, I was beginning to freeze in the five degree cold, Greg came and suggested breakfast, AND he also said he had searched the internet in the wee hours of the morning AND was confident he knew what the issue was and could fix it!
We finished breakfast and I got into a Toyota Landcruiser with Matty. Attached was a rather purposeful looking tandem trailer. We got the location coordinates from Greg, put them into Marty’s phone and off we went into the wilderness, retracing the route of last night. I was horrified to see the track! It was very stony, with many baby heads. It was deeply rutted in many places and washed away in others. There were countless steep floodways. And Greg had ridden us out of that, two-up. That was a feat of considerable riding ability! (I did say to him later that, had he been able to see, he would not have done it) We proceeded at a snail’s pace; and very carefully, it taking about an hour and a half to cover the twenty kms into that harsh, arid, hilly county. I was able to recognise certain features as we travelled and eventually I told Matty I could see the bike, glinting in the sun. We pondered options to get the bike into the trailer, eventually deciding to wheel the bike off the road onto the high side. The trailer would then be reversed, in a jack-knife, to permit the ramps to be placed on the bank, making pushing it on very easy indeed. It helped that Matty is as strong as an ox! It was at this juncture that I was introduced to “cannonballs”, a nasty, silky seed pod which at its appointed time, exploded and fired thousands of sharp needles. Very small, and very painful if you happened to be hit. Once on, the bike was strapped down wit eight tie downs, double the usual number. Then, how to return to Arkaroola? Matty had never been on that road, so I told him it was like a freeway compared to what we faced if we returned the way we had come. The distance home, though, was considerably greater. Matty, in his laconic manner, decided we would so proceed. It was indeed, from the perspective of comfort and less likelihood of damage to the bike, the best choice. It was about four pm when we arrived back at the Village. Greg and another chap who rides a KTM, helped us get the bike off the trailer, whereupon Greg set at the clutch cable cover, removing it to reveal an overly tight cable. He slackened it off as per YouTube instructions and voila! My clutch was back! WHAT a relief! Instead of struggling to get hold of roadside assist and negotiate the repatriation of myself and the bike, I could now continue the ride. However, my bike had received a major (10,000km) service on the Wednesday before departure. BMW Motorrad Melbourne will be hearing from me. We got started before sunrise, with a rather impressive spectacle of red sky and dark clouds. We took it slowly for the first hour on the road from Hawker to Wilpena Pound, mindful of the dangers posed by kangaroos darting onto the road at precisely the wrong time.
A little before Wilpena we turned off into the Flinders Ranges National Park, stopping briefly at the historic horse corral before proceeding through the two gorges. The ground was very, very stony; and I was reminded of our many briefings which warned of the dangers to our tyres. However, despite riding on pretty awful tracks, we struck no difficulties of that nature. There was a fair bit of water around and that is something that always pleases adventure riders. Even me, to a certain extent, although I might be heard grumbling after the fact that my bike would require additional cleaning. We left the National Park and called into the small village of Blinman, which because of its central location is well known to all who visit the ranges. Coffee, mud cake and a chat and we were on our way to Parachilna in the west, where we would turn north and head for Leigh Creek. There is a dirt road that runs parallel to the bitumen for pretty much the entire lentgth and of course that was our preferred route. The road, well, track, wasn’t in bad condition. Mostly. But rather frequently there were deep flood ways across our path which gave us a big bump as we hit the bottom. There was one floodway which was not a floodway at all. It was a flipping great ditch, in which one could have lost a small house. It took both of us by surprise and we went into it far faster than we should have, bottoming our front suspensions, with my bike leaping into the air on the other side. Frightening, and a close call!! I add to that unpleasant experience the very unexpected stretch of deep sand which surprised me, hidden until the last moment by Greg’s dust. I thought I had lost control of the bike, but managed to pull her back. Aside from the crossovers and that one instance of sand, the road was very satisfactory. We performed a quick detour through the village of Beltana, which might even be abandoned, for all the activity we saw there. We stopped in Leigh Creek expecting to find lunch, but that was not successful. A local waved us on to Copley, some 15 kms up the road, where Greg had heard there were very tasty pies. At Copley we refuelled and then repaired to the caravan park where the pie shop was located. We enjoyed our meal and then chatted to a number of people hanging around outside. That is what many people in the ranges tend to do: hang around. Time ticks by very slowly here. We recounted the story of our house-sized floodway, and were told that a couple of days earlier, a police car was written off in that very same ditch! My guardian angel on the job again. I am continually grateful. Now we turn east, heading for Arkaroola Village. Precisely 40 kms along the Copley Road, Greg stops and we discuss an alternative route recommended by Brent Pearson, versus the normal road (all dirt in this part of the worl) and how much time there is before dark. It is only 3 pm and so we turn off. We flew down what was about the first two thirds of this route, when suddenly the condition of the road deteriorated. I half left the road after running into baby heads, and got stuck on the berm, half on and half off the track. I spun the rear wheel a few times which, as I intended, caused it to slip down the berm and placed the bike at right angeles to the track. I then got off the bike to lighten it and then carefully spun up the back wheel to get controlled traction to take her back on the road. I then took off after Greg, and met him coming back to see what had happened to me. I told him the story, quite happy that I had successfully managed it by myself; and we then proceeded down the path once more. But, suddenly, I noticed that my clutch was taking further out than I had set it; and them the clutch started slipping. I chased after Greg to tell him. ”Greg!” I called on the rider intercom, and he returned to where I had stopped. By this stage there was no free play in the clutch handle and although I engaged first gear, the bike just revved and did not move. Adjustments to the cable proved futile and it was becoming dark. It was decided that the bike would have to be left where it was and Greg would pillion me the twenty kms to Arkaroola. It seemed to take forever, but, after some heart-stopping moments and one and a half hours later, he got us there safely. There were a couple of occasions when I dismounted and walked through particularly gnarly sections. I was pretty despondent. Was this the end of my ride, after only two days? After dinner I called Roadside Assist on the satellite phone and it was not any easy experience. The Viallage had arranged that one of there employees would take me back in the morning to recover the bike, after which I would again try roadside assist. I showered, getting mildly scalded in the process, and then went to bed, noting that apart from the towels in the room, the only extras were: a replacement toilet roll and a Gideon’s Bible. There was not even a single coat hangar in the cupboard, nor a cup from which to drink water. That is what $90 per night gets you in Arkaroola Village. Tomorrow’s challenges are already set. Today was supposed to be the SkyTrack on the Willow Springs Station. Well, Greg got to do it, but not me.
As per my sign-off on yesterday’s blog, I wasn’t feeling too good when I went to bed. I had a restless night with a cough and by morning I felt pretty miserable. I had also lost my voice. Ok, I know what some of your people are thinking. I reluctantly decided I could not, and indeed should not, attempt the Sky Track, where there are some rather challenging sections. It is also 70 kms to get there. Apart from the risk I would probably not enjoy it. We needed breakfast so headed into town, only to find the restaurant which usually opens at eight, does not open at all on Mondays. Greg needed to refuel and took the opportunity to enquire where one could get breakfast in Hawker. The gentleman grimaced and then volunteered that the General Store opened at nine. I waved Greg off as he headed for Willow Springs and something to eat. I then went to the local medical centre, which is co-located with the hospital. The doctor arrived as I did and directed me to Emergency, because “I might have Covid”. The nurse there took great care of me and then said she would get the doctor…. the very same one from next door! She also took good care of me and GAVE me some antibiotics. Yay! I should start improving. By then it was nine, so off to the General Store I went. I parked my bike on the footpath. No sooner was I off the bike when this guy flings open the door and tells me to park on the road. He was putting out tables and chairs. But, as i immediately observed, not where my bike was. Noted. I think the boy has an attitude. Inside he takes my order, but in a manner I would expect in a totalitarian state, not country Australian, where everyone is very friendly and unfailingly polite. This guy really does have an attitude. I consume my average bacon and egg roll and average coffee and head back to the cottage where I rested for the next number of hours. At about three I felt much better (although still no voice) and decided to do some sight seeing. The buildings of sandstone are so attractive, but Hawker is not wealthy, so the building stock is not terribly aesthetic. I then turned north on the road to Wilpena Pound, with my objective being the Pugilist Hill lookout, some forty kms away. The last eight kms were on a fairly decent dirt road. I really enjoyed the ride and the scenery. The last bit of the track to the lookout was actually a little challenging, being a rather steep and rocky climb. Time to start heading back to Hawker. Oh, what’s this? The Morelana Scenic Drive. About 30 kms of dirt. Some of the scenery was really pretty; and I also saw an emu (wow, can they run!) and a number of little grey wallabies. I also took the spur to Blacks Gap. Although only three kms long, it was reasonably challenging with steep ascents and descents as well as a very stony section. Having spent my afternoon most enjoyably, I took off back to Hawker at a handy speed, stopping only to refuel in town before going back to the cottage. Greg was already back, having himself had a wonderful time at Willow Springs. Dinner was once again at the pub once and considering my laryngitis, the conversation still flowed freely. So, disappointment for me, but the day was not entirely lost. The big announcement for which I have been waiting made the papers this afternoon. 😊
It is 1,200 kms/745 miles from Melbourne to the Flinders Ranges National Park. It is theoretically possible to cover that in twelve hours, but that would allow no breaks for refreshment. One feature of motorcycle touring is the very opportunity to visit hospitality establishments in out of the way places and share that knowledge with others. And when travelling in company, the wide-ranging conversation and simple camaraderie are a hugely enjoyable part of any trip.
Then there is safety to be considered, Riding a motorcycle (even driving a limousine, for that matter) for extended periods of time leads to fatigue, which often has deleterious consequences - sometimes fatal ones - for one’s health. Additionally, a long day in Southern Australia, in winter, would mean riding at least at dawn or dusk, probably even when dark. In country areas, this is not wise. Indeed, it is foolish in the extreme. Australia is possessed of many more marsupials (eg kangaroos and wallabies) than people. They are generally nocturnal, rather lazy and very stupid. They wander across roads at night and the number of road users who have encountered these animals at speed have deeply regretted that encounter. So have their families. And their insurance companies. Steady trade for undertakers, regrettably. Thus, being sensible people who love our families and enjoy life, we break a 1,200 kilometre ride into two days. Greg and I met at the BP Calder Truck Stop, which is on the western outskirts of Melbourne, at 7.30am, I filled up, we paired our Cardo helmet communicators and hit the road. Unfortunately, our third Musketeer, David H, had been felled by a bad cold and on Friday advised that he had to withdraw from the ride. We will miss his company. Get well soon, David. It was 10 C when we departed, and as we rode to the west it became progressively colder. It wasn’t long before the temperature gauge was flashing, 3, 2, then 1C. Then it flashed blue. Ice warning! Despite our handle grip heaters, our fingers were beginning to sting like crazy!. Greg, who was leading, was travelling at a little over 90kph., twenty kph below the posted speed limit. I quickly determined this was not because he was necessarily interested in a good fuel consumption figure. Not at all. He was minimising the wind chill factor!. Some years ago I acquired a heated vest and I had decided that on this trip, I would, for the first time, use it. Oh, how I blessed the decision. However, even with that contribution to keeping warm ummmm… actually, being less cold; I was feeling pretty miserable and I wondered how Greg was coping. Less than an hour later, Greg called me on the rider - to - rider intercom: “Duncan, there is this lovely French bakery in Kyneton. Let’s stop there for coffee”. Now this was before nine o’clock. I have never before stopped so early in a ride for coffee. But having heard the suggestion, I embraced it with enthisiasm! The coffee wa good, the croissant excellent and we had a decent chat. And of course it was becoming warmer outside :-) When we emerged some thirty minutes later it was approaching 10C and we rode without stopping until we arrived in Wycheproof, where we had a pleasant lunch at the Bakery On Broadway. I had a pastie absolutely packed with nourishing vegetables and Greg pronounced himself more than happy with his salad roll. Back on the bikes; and we did not stop again until Sea Lake, where we filled up and I, as I discovered later, dropped my phone. Drat. We bypassed Mildura, enjoying the now sixteen degrees weather and the blue sky. What was remarkable was the HUGE vineyards. Mildura and the Riverina produce table grapes. I will research that later. The sun was sinking low in the sky when we crossed the South Australian border. We were quickly checked at the quarantine station (no, no fruit or vegetables to declare) We proceeded on the remaining 15 kms to Renmark with the temperature now thirteen degrees and steadily falling. We checked into the historic Renmark Hotel, situated on the banks of the Murray River, showered and went to dinner at seven pm. Very busy, but it was Saturday night after all. Greg had a decent hamburger and I had a generous serving of fish, chips and salad. Now the Renmark Hotel is an institution in this place. It has provided accommodation and hospitality to all walks of life and is a favoured meeting place for a variety of organisations which have met here for decades. Its location is picturesque and it also has an interesting museum which records by display of artefacts and photos, the progression of this institution since its establishment. I had, at one time, the longest bar in the world, at 205 feet. It had twenty beer taps. They must be thirsty in these parts. Altogether a most pleasant place to spend the night. We called time just before nine, having arranged to meet at the bikes at nine am, after which we would have breakfast and leave for Hawker, South Australia which is 425 kms distant. The ride will be less than five hours, but with stops we will be on the road for about seven. The countryside will now become much more arid. Hopefully we will make some photo stops. .
The interminable lockdowns inflicted upon us by Chairman Dan (no, that is not a term of affection) caused several rides to be delayed or even abandoned. Perhaps let's call that deferred. It also facilitated time to plan other rides. Thus it was that Greg and David conceived a plan to ride to South Australia. This was gestated over time and indeed, birth was given to a document which set out an itinerary of eight days. However, lockdown meant incubation, awaiting a snap release from lockdown or perhaps something of longer duration. That, together with the advent of the dry season, would signal the end of incubation. As seems to be usual at present, accommodation was limited, notwithstanding we would be out of school holidays, and so a couple of weeks back we bit the bullet and paid for the motels here and there along the intended route. My motivation for going is simple. If I don't go, I will never get to see this part of the country. Liz is remarkably supportive and the leave pass was granted without fuss. David caught his wife at the right moment and he was sorted. However, Greg has had a shaky start. We leave on his wife's birthday, We have not enquired too deeply into what he has promised in order to keep to the schedule. Our first day will be laying down miles (and rubber) from Melbourne to Renmark, nearly 700kms on sealed roads. Day two will take us a shade over 400kms via Burra and Omaroo to Hawker. Day 3 is stated to be a rest day, but we will ride to the famous Willow Springs and do the Skytrek trail, which is said to have some rather challenging sections. Day 4 sees us ride 340kms to Arkaroola, passing through outback towns well known to those who love the Outback. Day 5 looks as if we might actually rest; and I'm informed we will welcome it! Day6 is Arkaroola to Melrose, with the final route to be decided. This will be weather dependent as the one route travels through very remote country. Day 7we rest again in Melrose, with a short ride or two in the vicinity an option. Day 8 Melrose to Pinaroo, some 440kms Day 9 nearly 600kms back to Melbourne via the Murray Sunset Country. We are once again talking tyres, as some of the terrain will be littered with sharp stones and we will also traverse Gibber plains. I feel suitably apprehensive and am thinking Mitas? Heidenau? Suggestions? Greg tried for Karoo3's but there is no stock. He is therefore going for Tracionators, despite the weight. David seems to be sticking with his TKC80 front and Anakie Wild rear, which is what I currently have. I think the Wild may be too soft, rubber compound wise. Communications in remote areas is always a priority. David has his EPIRB, Greg has an Inreach. My Inreach seems to be kaputt, (It may just be obsolete, I bought it in 2012) so I have borrowed the BMW Club's satellite phone. Looking good. |