Halls Gap Weekend

We met Les Leahy in the carpark for what was obviously going to be a cold ride to Halls Gap. We passed the club who were assembled at Melton, and continued on to Ararat for our first stop, whereby there was a mad rush for the toilets – something to do with the weather I suppose. Les and J.C. found a hand drying machine which was given a good workout – nothing like a bit of hot air on cold fingers.

We arrived at Halls Gap slightly warmer as the mist had dispersed and the sun was trying to break through the early morning cloud layer. We were met by the brave few who had ridden up Thursday night – obviously insane. J.C. selected a most level campsite which was very hard to find because of the undulating nature of the land. The official club run rolled in about midday, so everyone was able to get together in the afternoon to go and visit some of Fagan’s relations, oops kangaroos.

Gary, Jo and ourselves arrived earlier than the rest at Zumsteins, so decided to ambush Fagan. We managed to wet Mick and also some pedestrians on the bridge – that will teach them to be in the vicinity of the ratbag element of MSCAV. The kangaroos proved to be totally unexciting except for a few that were put to flight in the rear ranks by two fearless hunters. However, we guess Mick enjoyed visiting his relations.

On the way back the trip was fast for some (the usual). Unfortunately, the trip for Dennis proved to take longer than he thought due to the fact that he bingled his BMW into a big rock (side of mount something or other). Les Leahy was fortunate to be pillion for a change and had the pleasure of riding the R90S back to camp. In the morning the ace wheel straighteners (Leahy, Cecil and Bames) went to work and quickly had things mobile again – that will be $10 thanks Dennis, no we had better make it $11, we’ve still got to pay Little Mick.

Friday night was freezing cold – Peter P’s teeth could be heard rattling constantly. During the night it was that chilly even the koala bears had a quick grunt about the whole thing. Noisy little devils.

Saturday was filled in by the club with a ride to Mt. William and also follow a Fagan dirt ride. We hear there is somebody sharpening up a pocket knife, Mick, so you want to be careful. The views from Mt. William proved to be tremendous but we didn’t stay long as the air was rather brisk.

The usual Saturday night entertainment took place in Stawell for those that wished to partake. However, we wish they wouldn’t be so noisy about it when they come back to camp. By the way, Mick, what was that vile mess in your stew pot? Haven’t you trained Katrina to hold her liquor yet? Darren, our price will not be overly extortionate for the picture of you and a BMW.

As far as we know everyone that turned up had a good weekend with the exception of Dennis whose leg, we hope is on the mend now.

R75/5 & R50/5