EDITORIAL NOVEMBER 1979
Well, another month has passed and we would like
to thank all those who submitted articles for this mag. You will notice I said
WE. Yes, she has finally returned, much to my relief, as it takes quite a long
time to type a stencil with two fingers.
While we are on about the mag., we have been a
bit upset to see our mag., screwed up on the floor after the meeting or
alternatively being thrown in the dirt bin. There is bulk work, about 30-40
hours per month involved. SO, if you finish with the mag. at the meeting and
don’t wish to keep it, leave it on the chair. We will distribute them around
some of the bike shops. Or if you take it home and don’t want to save it, give
it to a friend or fellow biker. Perhaps some-one reading what a fun time we
have will want to join the club.
Contrary to the rumour going around, the mag.
will NOT be raffled.
Editors: Jude & Smithy
NOVEMBER
RUNS
SUNDAY 4
PARENTS DAY. HALFWAY THROUGH
THE BLACK SPUR.
KBCP 9.30
SUNDAY
11
LAVERTON (SHELL) 9.20
WEEKEND17&18
HALLAM 7AM SHARP
SUNDAY
25 NUMURKAH. KBCP 9AM. PICNIC
LUNCH.
DECEMBER
SUNDAY 2 PORT
FRIDAY 7
GENERAL MEETING
WEEKEND
8&9 XMAS PARTY. JAMIESON PUB.
____________________
ELECTION RESULTS
PRES MICK
FAGAN TREAS
KEITH HARRIS
V. PRES SALLY
GLEESON SOC. SEC CHRISTINE DAWSON
SEC. IAN
TAYLOR CAPTAIN TOM SAVILLE
ASS.SEC KEITH
FINLAY V.CAPTAIN KEVIN ROBERTSON
____________________
REMINDER
The bookings for the
Xmas Party close on 11th November.
We are going to have a ball, so don’t miss out. So far, we have got over
30 people coming. There is still some accommodation available at the pub.
Tickets are still available from Smithy. Approx $20 per person for the night.
$10 deposit payable on booking. Jamieson
Pub. Weekend 8th and 9th December.
XMAS HAMPER
DONATIONS ARE COMING IN
SLOWLY FOR THE XMAS HAMPER. REMEMBER EVERY ONE WHO DONATES AN ARTICLE (VALUE
OVER $1) GETS A FREE TICKET.
TICKETS WILL BE SOLD 25C
EACH OR 5 FOR $1.
INVITATION
IN HONOUR OF GUY FAWKES.
You are
herewith cordially invited to a celebration.
To be
held at
On the
evening of 10th November ’79.
A
bon-fire will be supplied as will BBQ Facilities
So BYO
everything (food, wine, chairs, glasses etc ESPECIALLY fire works).
NOTE BBQ
from 5.00 pm.
____________________
FOR
NORTON
750 Interstate 74 model, original 7,000 miles, new paint, tyres, R.W.C. No. Reg. $920.00.
Ring
Craig 870 8835
____________________
PROGRESSIVE
POINTS FOR CLUB MEMBER OF THE YEAR 1980
CRAIG
DAWSON 16
LLOYD
WISSMAN 15
CHRISTINE
DAWSON 13
CHRIS
NEGUS 13
FAGAN 12
TED
MARSHALL 12
____________________
Articles
for the club mag. can be sent to the following addresses:
Ms. Jude Wallis Mr.
Greg Smith
Ph. 848 7867 Ph.
531 4608
____________________
WORLDS END RALLY
Attended by 17.
Phillip Andrews on his
400/4 and I left Melb. Thursday 6am. The going was fine until Beauford, then it
rained until Keith, where it was fine and sunny, and a cloudless sky. Great, I
thought; we had run out of the poor weather, and we had, till just over the
Friday about 10.30 saw
us off to the
We stopped at Clare
where there were a few other bikes under a shelter. They left, then we did and soon after a lot
came off a side road, wrong turn some-one took? So I found myself leading to
Pt. Pirie. What they didn’t know is that it was a case of the blind leading the
blind.
Once on the main road
they left us and we went onto Pt. Pirie for our food. The fact that we stopped 10 mins at Clare and
that it was overcast making it dark earlier meant we had to use our lights for
the 21kms of dirt road, which was not the best though it was not as bad as I
remembered it before when wet.
At Yaldara the
Going down the bank was
greasy but the river bed was stones and the bank up the other side was not
greasy. I spent a considerable time with camera waiting for someone to drop
their bike but no-one did. The sign said water 6’ deep and at one time late Sat
afternoon a crowd gathered on the banks to cheer and carry on while some solo,
two up, three up, went through it at speed one-way wetting those coming in.
I saw one guy with bike
near water, with paint brush cleaning the bike while others just went back and
forwards through the water at speed. The fact that the bikes got muddy again
going up the bank again didn’t seem to matter as they were very happy.
I said to Phillip and
others at Clare that I would bet anything that Darren had organised himself
into a hotel at Quorn which turned out to be the case. I also said that he would not make the river
site which also turned out to be right.
We found a spot for our tents which turned out to be near the
M.T.C.V Mick & Joy, Tom & Jude,
Craig & Christine, John McKenna & Christine, Ian Taylor & Lynne,
Chris Negus, Frank, Keith Harris, the Morgan family and others, but no-where could I see the 4 owners. There were a fair number from
That night the sounds
were like the night shift at a gold mine as late arrivals put up tents and
hammered pegs into the ground. (stones mostly)
The organising club was
better organised than my last rally 2 years ago. They had a tent with soft drinks and fruit juice
for sale. Also a tandem trailer for going out and getting wood which soon
disappeared. This is a necessity as bikes can’t carry 6 railway sleepers. Which
reminds me of one married couple who arrived both on large bikes, who stopped
on the other side of the river. How many went through without stopping? Did he
go first to show how deep it was? You’ve got to be kidding, NO. To wife, “You
go first dear,” and she did.
The way Tom Saville of
the M.T.C.V. was chasing up potential members don’t be surprised if he gets the
Clubman award without going on a single ride.
Unlike some of the European Rallies, with one exception, there was
nothing unusual there, in bikes and outfits the exception being at X.T. Yammie
500 single with lightweight chair and a side-car wheel drive. The guy who made
this has made a VW engine 2 wheel drive outfit with engine slung under
chair. This won a prize at an Elephant
Rally. He has made an outfit with twin Harley motors, and is currently making
an outfit with a Corolla motor in it.
The Goldwing Club
actually made it over the 21kms to the rally site. Darren having met them at
Quorn said goodbye and came back to
There were between 500
and 600 there Saturday night but as usual Saturday afternoon saw as many
leaving as arriving and as usual there were people from QLD, and a large group
from the BM Club in
Back when B.M.W. bikes
were the best, you had a conservative older person riding them, B.M. changed
the image and quality, and you have a different person riding them today. The Mutual Admiration Society today seems to
be owners of Goldwings, not all owners are like this thank god, but with too
many it’s, isn’t your bike nice, yes, I like yours too, and aren’t we the lucky
people having a Goldwing.
I am sure Honda didn’t
want this anymore than B.M.C. wanted the Morris 1100 as a woman’s car. Honda
wanted a bike for touring and in particular to compete with Harleys for freeway
riding which it does. It seems to be
coming a cult, a cult as the Harley is, though in a different way. What I am getting at is, there are too many
enthusiast Harley owners, Goldwing owners, but not enthusiast owner rider of these bikes and owning one
seems to change people so people who had a 750/4 or Kawa or whatever and went
anywhere including dirt roads, when getting a Harley or Goldwing keep off the
dirt. There will always be both, in and
out of clubs, enthusiast owners of bikes who are not enthusiast riders of
bikes. It was my impression that at one
time 4 owners were like this. It has fortunately changed so that today it is
average in percentage of enthusiast owners only. Unfortunately this situation can effect sales.
As an example I might once have considered a Goldwing, but today because of the
image or type of owners (not exclusively) I would prefer any make or model of
bike except Goldwing, as I prefer to be called an enthusiast motor cyclist
rather than a Goldwing owner. I feel even stronger about this after seeing the
Goldwing Club.
After all that, to go
back to the rally, Sat, arvo was sports events with the usual events including
who could go the furtherest on an outfit with the chair in the air, and the
most on an outfit (22) etc. Sat evening
was the light snack. It was bread, tomato sauce, sausages and hamburger and an
orange. There was plenty for all, there were plenty like me who went back for
2nds and 3rds, and still there was food left.
That night everyone did
their own thing if they bought it with them.
There was a group providing entertainment by the main fire. We did not wait for the Mayor of Quorn to
arrive to present prizes, but left at 8.30.
By then the road was fairly dry.
We went to Pt. Augusta for a look around and then Adelaide. I came back on Mon in 8 hours and 10 mins not
fast, but quick for me, and Phillip came back on Tuesday.
Both days were fine with
a tail wind. What a difference to going
over. All will agree you don’t have to
be mad to ride a bike in the wet, but it sure helps.
LLOYD 750/4
____________________
Did you hear about the
bee that broke its leg? It fell off its honey.
*
Did you hear about the
bus driver who broke his leg? He feel off the couch when he swerved to miss a
child.
*
Why are farts always
followed by an aroma? So deaf people don’t miss out.
*
Did you hear about the
Irishman who took his tie back to Myers? It was too tight.
*
Little Audrey was taken
to the railway station by her father. He showed her the Overland and said that
was a big train therefore that was the daddy train. He showed her the Spirit
and said that was a smaller train so it was the mummy train. Then he showed the
Werribee train and said that was a little train therefore that was the baby
train.
Little Audrey laughed
and laughed because she knew that was not true. Because she knew that trains
always pulled out on time.
____________________
Little Audrey was flying
in an aeroplane and the pilot said if you all look out the window you will see
beautiful virgin land.
Well she laughed and
laughed to herself because she knew what Big MAL and done to it.
*
What is a ball bearing
mouse trap? A Tom Cat.
*
A housewife bought a new
refrigerator. When it was delivered she opened the door and there was a little
white rabbit.
“What on earth are you
doing in there?” she asked.
“This is a Westinghouse,
isn’t it?” said the rabbit.
“Yes”
“Well, I’m Westing”.
*
The young man was
greatly smitten by the charms of the attractive hotel chambermaid. On the last morning of his stay, his usual
cup of tea was bought up to him by a waiter.
“Where’s the
chambermaid?” the young man asked.
“I couldn’t say for sure
sir,” the waiter replied, “But the cup and saucer were made in Japan.”
____________________
1979 WORLDS END RALLY
REPORT 29TH & 30TH SEPT.
Even though this Rally
was listed as an Official Club function travel to and from was not as an
organised ride. It was left up to the
individual members to find their own way in their own time. We did however, have quite a good
representation as I believe some 17 members were present. I’m not going to name names as I must confess
that whilst faces were familiar, names were not necessarily so. To those who made it, I trust you enjoyed the
run as much as Faye and I; and to those who didn’t make it, try it sometime, it
really is worth the effort.
To report on something like this is rather
difficult due to the individual run each member made so this will be written as
Faye and I saw the Rally (from start to finish) over a period of 10 days and
2909 Kms.
We headed out at 6.45am
on 26th September for Mildura via Bendigo, Kerang, Swanhill and
Robinvale. We made Swanhill for lunch
and during the stop I checked around the outfit for a crook wheel bearing due
to abnormal noises. Unable to find
anything we continued on to Mildura. By
the time we reached Mildura I had convinced myself that the noise was emanating
from the rear wheel area. After
collecting some tucker in town we found our way out to Apex Park (a camping
park on a bend of the river amid a cloud of mosquitos). After we got set up I pulled the rear wheel
out to find the bearings in perfect condition.
I put the noise down to the tyre pattern. It was a grand new tyre fitted for the run, a
brand and pattern I had not previously ridden on.
Rising the next morning
before seven we found the same cloud of mozzies waiting for us as well as rain
threatening. (a bit of a contrast as we had arrived in Mildura in bright
sunshine and 27 degrees). A quick coffee,
break camp, don waterproofs and hit the road.
We really didn’t want anything wet just yet and breakky could wait a
while. The roadhouse at Cullulleraine
satisfied the worms.
From there to the S.A.
border must be one of the most miserable stretches of road I have come
across. Undulating, in places narrow and
rough it just seems to go on and on and bloody on!! Once across the border however, things
change. Wider, better surface, and even
the country seems to change.
Renmark appears, refuel,
coffee and on we go. Just beyond Berri a
bag of oranges is added to the kit.
About Blanche Town we found a roadhouse and decided on lunch. There we met up with a chap from Sydney. Aboard an R69S, he also was heading for the
Rally. The bike was interesting as he
was running a 40 litre tank atop of which was a generous size tank bag. Made a good chin rest! He said the 40 litre tank was beaut as he
only had to refuel once a day, ‘cause he didn’t normally ride more than 450
MILES in any one day. That’s what I call
reasonable range.
We continued on thru
Nuriootpa, Kapunda and Tarlee to Clare.
Approaching Clare we copped the worst rain storm I have ever
encountered. Visibility was reduced to
about 4 feet. The only part of the road
I could see was the yellow line provided I looked directly down along the fork
leg. Faye pulled up while I continued on
to a roadhouse. Over a coffee we decided
that we should continue North as the weather appeared to break thataway. We eventually set up camp at the park in
Gladsone.
Next morning we
continued on Northwards to Wilmington only to be diverted across to Pt. Germain
when we were just short of Murray Town.
Roadworks in the Horrock Pass between Wilmington and Pt. Augusta had
this road closed during working hours.
Between Pt. Germain and Pt. Augusta we were running into a 40 Kt
wind. Hard riding and hard on the
pocket. The Wing could only range 28 MPG
this stretch. After lunch at Pt. Augusta
(& refuel) we headed up through the Pichi Richi pass to Quorn, picked up
the weekend’s tucker, headed out to Warren’s Gorge and the Rally.
While checking in we met
up with Chris, Craig and a rider on a CB 900 who also had just arrived. We all
teamed up and selected a camp site. As
the afternoon progressed, we (MTCV) continued to arrive. Jude & Tom, Keith, Chris, Joy & Mick,
Porky, etc. etc. By nightfall we had
quite an area occupied. When Frank
arrived there was much conjecture as to just where he should pitch his
tent. Some suggested it should be at
least 100 yards away. It appears Frank has a reputation for snoring rather
loudly!
About midnight Faye got
up to investigate activity around our campfire and found a chap from Horsham stoking
it up. Wet, cold, tired and hungry. He had knocked of work, jumped on the bike
and headed for the Rally knowing that a couple of his mates had got away
earlier than he. They had arranged to
meet at the Rally. When he arrived he
rode round the area a couple of times but he couldn’t find them. He saw the coals in our fire and figured
(correctly) that we wouldn’t mind if he had a warm and cooked some tucker. He found his mates next morning, when they
arrived! They had found the going a bit
wet and had dossed in a pub in Adelaide overnight. Small wonder he couldn’t find their tent!
Saturday morning there
was little activity other than people arriving.
Fay and I decided to run into Quorn for some extras and pick up a load
of wood on the way back. The question
“Anybody want anything in town?” left us with quite a list of things required
by people in the immediate vicinity. A
couple of hours later, shopping and wood duly delivered to camp.
During the morning a
couple of my work mates arrived and after lunch three more. As a result I missed the start of the Gymkhana. Even so it turned out an amusing
afternoon. A few interesting incidents,
like when the chappy tried a new way of getting off his R75. He stood it up on its front wheel and tried
to step off over the bars… didn’t work out too well! Then there was the outfit that rode the
course with the tyres squashed flat. 22
persons on board. In the slow race Fagan
got a bit of a ribbing for stopping (feet still on the pegs of course) to see
how the competition was going. Even an
XT couldn’t get slow enough to stay behind him.
Final event was a variation of Musical Chairs. Bikes riding around in a large circle, lady
pillion-side saddle, witches hats in the middle and on call the ladies leap off,
race into the circle and grab a witches hat.
Trouble is, there was always one more lady than witches hats. Boy, did the girls get into it. Incidentally Mick was top dog in the Slalom
and Slow Race.
The evening’s
entertainment consisted of group singing folk songs. Well, that’s how it started off. When I left they weren’t singing exactly what
you would call folk songs. Back at camp
the entertainment wasn’t of quite the same calibre. It consisted of a member curled up on the wet
ground by the fire, cuddling his favourite bottle, snoring his head off. A nudge in the ribs (with boot) only brought
forth much rumbling, a sigh and more snoring!
Sunday morning saw the
majority breaking camp to head home.
Trophies were presented around 10am.
BMW Club (Vic) got the highest combined mileage (forgot the exact
figure). A chap from Perth got the hard
luck trophy. Seems the bloke that timed
his Guzzi for him before he left set the tappets too tight and it ran out of
valves. The bike went back to Perth on
the train and the rider pillioned in with his mate.
Two awards that caused
some controversy were the longest distance Male and Female solos. They were both MTC (SA) members from Adelaide
who arrived at the Rally via Queensland.
From memory about 5000k each, when in fact they were only 350K from
home. A lot of people felt that these
awards should be on direct mileage, not, as this was. Longest distance outfit came from Hobart.
Sunday night saw the
Club’s contingent down to Jude & Tom, Keith, Chris, Faye and myself and
kids.
We had a bit of a flap
at breakfast on Monday morning when a couple of members discovered that the
hamburgers, on which they had dined the previous evening had lots of funny
little white things crawling around in them.
Saw a couple of puffy cheeks! Guess the moral is, don’t keep society
hours when camping. At least in daylight
you can see what you are eating and don’t have to wonder about it next morning.
After brekky we broke
camp, ran into Quorn to replenish tanks and tucker boxes, and headed off to the
Wilpena area via the Station Tracks. We
eventually wound up in the Moralana Scenic Route (just south of Wilpena)
looking for a spring. When we were
unable to locate it we decided to head up into the Parachilna Gorge between Parachilna
and Blinman for a couple of days.
Before heading out into
the Gorge we had a break at the Parachilna Pub.
After all it is the only thing at Parachilna. Peoples and bikes satisfied we headed out and
found a satisfactory site just on darkness.
A good day’s riding though not without incident. A certain RS apparently thought it wasn’t
pretty enough and tried for a mud bath.
BM god and red mud didn’t really go so well together. Then there was a 500 that opted for a bath
(presumably to get rid of the dust) but the water wasn’t deep enough and it
only managed to rinse one side. Another
RS just got plain tired after clambering over a mound of earth left by a
grader. Its rider doesn’t believe in
letting sleeping dogs (bikes?) lie so it was forced to continue. The outfit decided that the little sidecar
wheel was taking too much of a punishing and tried two wheeling. A kick in the ribs soon brought it back into
line. The R75 seemed to be more
determined than most. It just wanted to
go. Rolling the twist grip off didn’t
seem to have the desired effect. It just
kept on going! Removing the stick it had
jammed in the right hand throttle linkage brought it back into line. Quite a day.
Tuesday was a rest (?)
day. We scrounged up some wood, the dirtier
(?) ones bathed (!!!) and Tom set a snare for the bunnies. However, the bunnies wouldn’t
co-operate. Chris climbed up Mount Mary,
a near sheer face, god knows how high.
Lots of loose shale which kept clattering down to the creek bed. Every time some more rubble came clattering
down we anxiously looked up and sure enough there was Chris, still clinging to
the face. He must have had claws like a
bloody cat. That sort of caper is not
for this lad I’m afraid; not enough hairs on the chest!
The bikes got a bit of
T.L.C too. One RS was washed, t’other
had repairs to a plug lead. The R75’s
clock had given up the ghost in the rain on the way to the Rally so we had a go
at repairs. After dismantling, which
required a soldering iron, we found a break in the printed circuit board. A
short circuit when the case got water in it had caused the problem. We soldered a strand of copper wire over the
break but no joy. Apparently the
electronics had also suffered a HAEMORRHAGE and that was just a little beyond
us in the bush.
The 550 was calling for
a tappet check and this was soon dispersed with. The outfit had been behaving reasonably well
so all it got was a kick in the guts. It
got its own back that afternoon though, it went bush twice. Tom and I had been into the Pub to get some
cool drinks and we were on our way back to camp when Tom got caught with the
classic outfit boo-boo, not enough power available for a left hander. Not really Tom’s fault, after he is used to
the torque of the BM and the Wing just doesn’t have it under 3 grand. He had done everything spot on, washed the
speed off got onto a good line, but hadn’t dropped a gear or two to keep it on
song. When he cranked it open we just
kept going straight ahead. I feel I owe
Tom an apology as I could see what was going to happen and really had enough
time to yell instructions but I was too busy laughing at his facial expressions
as he realised it wasn’t going to go round that corner. We left the road going up a 12” or so bank
left by a grader, through a water course about 3’ deep and 10’ wide and slid to
a stop. I was still laughing and was
bemused by a lot of froth flowing past the sides of the sidecar seat. Then I realised what had happened. One of my bottles of beer had broke! POO! However,
that was the extent of the damage. We
had a fag and continued on to camp. Tom
grabbed the sidecar seat though. I think
he’d had enough of those weird 3 wheeled things that don’t necessarily go where
you point them. I’m always somewhat sympathetic to a long term solo rider
getting into trouble with an outfit. He
is so conditioned to keeping the bars straight that it really goes against the
grain to heave them round. Initially, it
can, in fact, be terrifying!
When we got back to camp
Jude indicated that she would like to try a ride in the chair but she implored
me not to frighten the daylights out of her.
I took it easy, in fact I even picked the chair up over the worst bumps
so she wouldn’t get shaken up too much.
We slid through a U-turn to go back to camp and still as calm as a
cucumber. Hmm, go do something to stir her up.
The creek crossing has got to be it.
About a foot deep,
smooth, should just about be able to dump the rooster tail from the front wheel
right into the chair. Sorry Jude. I just couldn’t resist it! Then Chris said “My turn”. I took him up the road, told him what I was
doing, chair up, chair down, power off on right handers, on for left handers
etc. We broadsided through the U-turn
and I pulled up to let him take it. Off
we went, no hassle, over a rise, roll off and she goes away to the right. Oops, a bit of brake, harder to the
right. We left the road but stopped
short of a sheer drop (2’) into a gutter.
We manhandled the beast back onto the road and continued on. No problems until we pulled up just prior to
the creek crossing. Again the drift to
the right during deceleration had the solo rider beat. I took it through the creek and to camp. Incidentally I don’t knock the solo rider who
has trouble with an outfit but it is amusing to watch the reactions. And so ended Tuesday. A sad day for Faye and I was Wednesday we had
to start the journey home. Oh well, all
good things must come to an end.
We broke camp and rode
into Blinman. Refreshed we headed south
for Hawker, some 110K. The only drama
being an RS that coated the rear wheel with oil. Tightening a loose oil cooler
hose cured that. At Hawker we refuelled,
lunched, and so came to the parting of the ways. Jude, Tom, Keith and Chris heading for Broken
Hill via the station tracks. Faye and I,
Sunbury via the highways. Poo! We ran to Orroroo and camped overnight.
On Thursday we continued
on down through the Clare Valley across to Eudunda and onto Morgan. The run from Eudunda to Morgan is a newish
section of road, wide, straight, smooth uninteresting. A good road to get over quickly. Up went the
speed. 130K the order of the day. While refuelling at Morgan I happened to
glance back at my rear tyre. “ Cor, where did all the rubber go?” I said to
Faye. Back to 110 cruise or we will not get home on that tyre.
We camped overnight at
Lake Cullullaraine. Highly recommended!
On the shores of the lake. Good
facilities. Good grass, trees, just a
beautiful, quiet, relaxing place. We
could have stayed several days. Friday
saw us head across to Mildura and then down the Calder Highway to home. Quite a few on the Calder heading up to
Mildura for the Classic Rally, (including a Wing, with trailer attached, on
which rode a Velo).
From Wedderburn down the
Wing gave us a few hassles by going all over the road without warning. Had me beat for a while, in fact I even
stopped and checked the tyre pressures but found them OK. Finally I woke up that it was aquaplaning on
the water on the road. Bald tyres on the
chair and the rear of the bike was the problem.
We dropped the speed from 110 to 90K and got along OK. 6.30 saw us in Sunbury.
I dropped the battery
into the 750, climbed on and we headed for Fairfield and the Clubs A.G.M. Made it too, via MacDonalds. And so that was our World’s End Rally
run. I sincerely hope that you have
enjoyed reading this report (novel?) as much as Faye and I enjoyed the trip.
Cheers!
Faye (Honda 550F) &
Geoff (Shitwing & DJP)
Darren Room 10-4-79
Hi, Sure was a nice
phone call and surprise, hearing from you over 7.500 miles away. I will be looking forward to seeing you here
in the States in March and September as I have a room for you that you may use
as a base camp and if you bring your friends, we can fix them up too. I should be able to get some time off work to
travel with you.
I believe “Wing Ding 80”
will be held the same date as this year, Sept 1-3, so you wouldn’t want to miss
it, so I hope you can rearrange your schedule, for Phoenix is 800 miles away
from my home, which is 2 days travelling time.
I just got back from the
“1980” Honda showing of their new bikes and the new features on the old Wing
are as follows.
It is now a GL 1100 with
electronic ignition vacuum advance, driven off the crank, thus the point housing
is no longer there. It has air forks up
front with Dacron bushings for friction free riding and the rear is an air
shock with spring. The rims are Comstar,
black, reversed and highlighted edges tubeless tyres 17” rear and 19”
front. Tyres have a new tread
design. It has a new “CX500 style” rear
end with a new massive swingarm and driveshaft housing and swingarm
bearings. I would imagine it has a
different rear end ratio?
A new larger rear disc
with a new repositioned calliper. It
sports a sleek new fake gas tank and covers and the gas tank has had a litre
added to its 5 gals. A new adjustable
touring saddle, single bucket seat. New
painted front and rear fenders. New
gauges moved off the pod to above the speedo and tacho gauges. Appears they did something to the
carburettors. There is now a standard
model and an “Interstate” full dress version which is beautiful. No doubt made for we Americans. That is all I noticed, as I didn’t get much
technical information.
Are you interested in buying
a certain model GL? Mine is a full dress
1978 model with the three gauges on the tank. It has 20,000 miles on it and is
in perfect condition. It sports air shocks rear, STH springs front, Vetter
fairing with lowers and a Vetter rear trunk.
Has Samsonite panniers as you call them, which are like suitcase, great
for carrying clothes. An AM*FM cassette
tape deck in a cycle sound housing. A Dyna III electronic ignition, front and
rear crash bars, front chrome calliper covers.
Cruise control, pull back handlebars, Hang Two Custom double bucket
seat. Custom Malotte fibreglass front
fender and chrome radiator grille and Fiamm air horns.
I’ve over $4,700
invested and would like to sell it for $3,900.
Enclosed is a picture of it, but a lot has been added since that picture
was taken. The only problem is that if you
are interested I don’t know if I could wait till March to sell it, as I am
planning to buy a new 1980 GL though I’m not sure when myself? When do you plan to arrive in March?
Anyway, let me know what
you think about the matter and we’ll see what can be worked out.
The following are two
addresses of GL friends in AUST whom I’ve been writing to:
(GWC) Phil Gresham Terry
Keating
1213 Burke Rd. 174
Oak Rd.
Kew, 3101 Kirrawee
2232
Melb. NSW
To work I go and I look
forward to your letter in the following weeks.
Your friend and AMERICAN
WING NUT.
TONIMBUK & MUSEUM SUNDAY 7TH.
Well there we were at
10.10am, all 3 of us, Kevin, Lindsay and myself trying to decide if we would be
the only silly wackers to front, as the weatherman had been forecasting rain,
as he had been doing every day for the past week, and he had been right every
time. In fact, we encountered only two
light showers during the whole day, and ate lunch in brilliant sunshine.
By 10.45 assembled at
the car park were, apart from us three, Mick, Craig and the Morgan family, less
Candy, as Geoff was riding his 750 solo ‘cause the outfit had three bald tyres.
(he’d been to the World’s End). Oh! And Smithy fronted in his full fairing
machine, the one with the two training wheels.
But he came to wish us good luck with the weather and to advise of the
mud tracks we would find. (We never did.)
With Mick leading (as
Kevin gets easily lost in “the big smoke”) the run down to the museum at Tynong
North was uneventful, travelling via the S.E. Freeway and Gippsland Hwy as far
as Pakenham. Although I did learn one
thing, as rear rider on the way down, it doesn’t pay to ride too close behind
Lindsay as his Suzie 380 smokes.
The museum where some of
us had a BBQ lunch had within its walls a collection of such diverse items that
the word museum is inappropriate i.e a collection of 1970’s drink cans, mounted
deer heads, aboriginal artefacts, pickled snakes, a Turkish fez, plastic model
cars, garments from the early 1900’s,
several butterfly collections, etc, etc, etc,.
For your 50c you not
only get to see all the above items and many more besides, you get to meet Max
Wheatherhead, the guy that started the whole concern, who can, and almost does
tell a story about each exhibit. As a
break to his well practised patter, Max gives a short rendition on the gumleaf
and ... as time was getting on, we decided we must too; so with Craig leading
we headed back to his place at Ringwood for coffee and cake via Gembrook and a
circuitous route through the S.E. suburbs. While enjoying the Dawsons’s
hospitality, the conversation centred around such topics as Newtons Law of
Relativity, nuclear powered naval ships, various fighter planes, etc, etc... Really
good stuff.
Well, that’s it,
Tonimbuk (wherever that is) and the Museum. Those that didn’t come missed a
good run.
Keith Finlay Honda 360
____________________
Does your nose run, and
your feet smell? Well, you’re built
upside down.
____________________
The 25th
wedding anniversary party was in full swing, but the host was nowhere to be
seen – until one of his friends came across him sitting alone in a room and
looking very gloomy. “Peter”, said the friend, “What’s wrong? You look very
depressed. Why so sad? Why aren’t you celebrating with your guests?”
“Why shouldn’t I look
depressed?” said the host. “I AM depressed; and I’ll tell you why. When I had been married for five years I
decided to kill my wife. I told a lawyer friend of mine and he talked me out of
it. He said I’d spend twenty years in jail. Just think; tonight I would have
been a free man.”
____________________
A contractor visiting a
building site where he had men at work was surprised and angered by what he
saw. Instead of the men working at
various points around the site they were all congregated at the same point,
digging in a trench.
“Hey!” said the boss,
“What’s going on here?”
Without interrupting the
digging or even looking up one of the men said, “Trench caved in”.
“Does the foreman know?”
“Dunno,” said the
digger, “but if he doesn’t we’ll tell ‘im as soon as we dig him out.”
____________________
The lady in the bus was
irritated by the continual sniffing of the small boy seated next to her.
“Have you got a
handkerchief?” she asked.
“Yes”, said the small
boy, “but I’m not allowed to lend it to strangers”.
____________________
TIDAL RIVER CAMPING
WEEKEND OCT 13-14
Saturday morning arrived
with torrential rain storms, so goodness knows why we did it – but we did! Donning numerous skivvies, jumpers and
waterproofs Ian and I braved the cold and headed off to Cranbourne to meet “any
other fools” from the club at 8.30am.
Arriving at Cranbourne
at approx 8am I had plenty of time to moan and groan about the weather and
everything in general whilst Ian filled the bike up and tried tactfully to
ignore me. Already waiting was one of
our newer members with a surprisingly “light” load on his bike. By about 20 to 9 Mike, Chris, Christine and
Craig had arrived. After a quick fag and
comparison of numb fingers we set off with Chris in the lead and Mike bringing
up the rear.
Apart from the annoying
rain, the ride down to the Prom was fairly uneventful. When we arrived at about lunch time we met up
with Mick, Joy and Smithy. Without
further ado, and with many anxious glances at the gloomy sky we put our tents
up, with a select group of newer members deciding to branch off and set up camp
elsewhere. However, fortunately or
unfortunately, throughout the day and evening we were spasmodically graced with
their presence.
A trip to the store to
buy milk, bread and other necessities turned out to be quite an enjoyable
excursion as Ian and I were continually “mugged” by bold Rosellas enticing us
to give them pieces of bread. When we
all had assembled back at the tents we spent an enjoyable ½ hour or so feeding
the many birds with Sunflower seeds which Joy and Smithy had bought. However, the novelty wore off when it came to
cooking lunch as we soon discovered that Rosellas are extremely partial to
jaffles – particularly Smithy’s.
After lunch we rode down
to Squeaky Beach for a leisurely stroll and a chance to admire the
scenery. Due to the unpredictable
weather and general laziness we then headed back to camp. After a walk to the shop and information
centre I decided that an afternoon nap was in order so I left the “men” to rave
and subsequently slept until about 6pm.
When I awoke I found that Big D and Kevin had arrived in the
meantime.
Soon, everyone was
settling down to the serious business of cooking tea, whilst one member, having
neglected to bring any food (amongst other things) trouped down to the shop to
buy something. The evening was quite
pleasant except for one persistent member speaking in tones loud and raucous
enough to wake all sleeping rosellas in a 5 mile radius.
Shortly after tea Les
arrived making our total no. 12. When
darkness had well and truly fallen an early night was decided on by most.
Sunday morning dawned
fine, the only cloud being the one Ian erupted into when he realised that
Smithy and Co. had carefully put sunflower seeds on our tent, thereby
encouraging 5 million rosellas to fight loudly and continuously right
overhead. We emerged from the tent and set about having breakfast, the only
bodies still cocooned being Mick and Joy.
Chris, Christine and
Craig were already packed and ready to leave as they were heading off
early. After watching us nosh into
numerous slices of toasts and cups of tea for some time they finally
departed. Alas, with the smell of
breakfast we were once again besieged by rosellas. By this time, the novelty had really begun to
wear off and threats pertaining to their physical well being were heard from
Les, Mick and Smithy. After much fiddling around we finally decided to pack our
gear and head homeward, diverging slightly to take a leisurely trot along the
Lilly Pilly Gully walk.
Two hours, 5 KMS, and
much undressing (!) later, we emerged back at the car park from our leisurely
walk! Many thanks to Mick “Harry Butler” Fagan too!!
And so, we mounted our
steeds and headed for home. As on the
way up to the Prom the ride home was fairly uneventful except for some
confusion as to whether there was indeed a dispersal point arranged or not. All in all a very enjoyable weekend.
Lynne & Ian BMW 900
YARRA DAM &
BBQ 21.10.79
We left KBCP at 10am. Including
the Lilydale pickup there were about 15 bikes.
The weather was really good.
Kevin (750 Yammie
triple) was the lead rider and Big D was the rear rider. We went to the dam via Healesville along
about 60K of dirt and stone roads, which were in reasonably good condition.
There were a lot winding roads which everyone seemed to enjoy.
We stopped off at
Warburton for petrol, food and for some an unofficial lunch break. We reached the dam at about 12.45 where we
had a BBQ (some of us anyway). There
were two new riders on the run. (Not on the run, on the run!) They were Lloyd (500 Yammie twin) and Peter
(500 Yammie single) both were the courtesy of Craig.
We left the dam for home
at about 3.23 1/2 pm. We dispersed at
Lilydale and ended a good day out.
Phillip Andrews Honda 400/4
____________________
An aeroplane crashes in
the desert. The only survivors are three
handicapped people. One is blind. The other is in a wheel chair, and the third
is lame and on crutches. They decide
that they had better try and find their way out of the desert. So they start
off and not long after they come across an oasis. The blind man smells it first
and runs down the hill, straight into the water. Suddenly he finds that he can
see. He calls to the lame man and says that it must be magic because he can
see. The lame man struggles down into the water and suddenly he can walk
without his crutches. The man in the wheel chair gets so excited that he speeds
down the side of the hill straight through the water and out the other side. He
got a new pair of tyres for his wheel chair.
____________________
AMAROO AND ALL
THAT
The big thing about the
Six Hour is probably not the race, but the fact that you’re there. Anyhow, this
is No. 10 (doesn’t seem all that long since the first one, does it?) and that
was as good a reason as any.
I kicked the 500 into
life at 6am Saturday morning and rode off into a perfect touring day. The Yam know its own way up the Hume, so I
just sat back and enjoyed the sunshine and the scenery.
It was sort of one of
those days where nothing was happening when a rider quietly cruised past me
just before Yass. You never forget the
way somebody sits on a motorbike and sure enough, it was Wacka Ackland, who was
big in the club when everyone was riding 450 Hondas.
Wacker and I last rode
up to the Six Hour together about 6 years ago and he’s still on that same
goddamned 750 Honda. Everything’s been
changed or replaced except the dipstick, but that 750’s getting mightly close
to completing its second time around the clock.
This was the year of
Plan B. Plan B instructions are as follow.
Ride to Mittagong (just short of Sydney). Put up tent. Leave 6am Sunday
for Amaroo. Return that evening to
previously erected tent. Leave 7am Monday for home.
Plan B is pretty cool
compared to Plan A, which, unless you are a Six Hour regular wouldn’t mean a
thing anyway.
Wacker and I yarned a
bit while putting up the tent at Mittagong and he then pushed onto friends at
Parramatta. Sunday morning saw the white
single fly around the corner at the circuit gates right on 7.45. Joy and Mick flagged me down and Katrina had sold
me a special entry ticket come pit pass (probably black market jobs) before I
could say ‘Graeme Crosby’!
So there we were, all
set up in our ace spectating spot before 8am and ready for action.
Well, the rest is
history. You probably saw it on the box anyway and saved yourself a thousand
miles of bum numbing vibration.
After the spoils of
victory had gone to the best team, Mick dropped Joy off in town (she was to fly
back that night) and headed on to the Leahy establishment at Mittagong.
Kelvin, Phil and
Lamburger the hamburger (or whatever Mick calls him) from the BMW club, rolled
in too and rented a van for the night.
No sign of Judy, Tom and Keith. We figured they’d had enough
motorcycling after the World’s End rally and weeks of touring up through the
Centre and decided to return home a little early.
Spectating all day in
32c temperature sure takes it out of you and Mick even gave up the chance to
see the “French Connection” on the telly in the van to get a good nights sleep.
7 o’clock next morning
we were on the road and headed south for another day of blue skies and
sunshine. All the way back groups of us
were passing and repassing each other as some pulled in for petrol and a break and
then the others further along.
A nice sort of feeling,
with everybody giving the nod because we were all from Amaroo.
The grandmother of all
storms caught us between Benalla and Euroa.
But it was soon over and we were in by 4 pm.
Nice riding. A great
weekend for Castrol’s No. 10 and you?
Well, you missed it all, didn’t you?
Les XT500 (Its last trip under my bottom; and
I’ll miss it.)
____________________
There was the guy who
didn’t believe in wife swapping until he got a BM for his wife.
____________________
LAMENT
He seized me by my
slender neck,
I could not call or
scream.
He dragged me to his
dingy room
Where we could not be
seen.
He stripped me of my
flimsy wrap
And gazed upon my form.
I was so damp and cold
and scared,
And he was flushed and
warm.
He pressed his feverish
lips to mine,
I could not make him
stop.
He drained me of my very
self
I gave him every drop.
He’s made me what I am
today, that’s why you find me here.
A broken bottle, thrown
away, that once was filled with beer.
____________________
KARUAH RIVER RALLY
The Karuah River Rally,
will be held on the Australia Day weekend (26th, 27th, 28th
January). The venue for the rally will
be Chichester State Forest, 31 kilometres north of Dungog. A map is provided in this magazine. The rally
will be catered for motorcycles only. No cars will be allowed.
The standard of
behaviour is left to the individual, but don’t spoil it for others.
The entry fee will be $3
per entrant. This entitles you to an enamel rally badge which will be awarded
upon reporting your presence at the rally to the organisers.
You will be required to
provide all camping gear and food stuffs. Water and toilet facilities will be
available.
Postal entries
definitely close by 20th December.
Entries should be addressed to:-
THE ORGANISERS
KARUAH RIVER RALLY
P.O. BOX 53
RYDALMERE, N.S.W. 2116
This rally, in its third
year, is presented for your enjoyment by –
THE B.M.W TOURING
CLUB OF N.S.W.
The usual rally awards
will be presented to successful entrants. All distance award applications must
be lodged when registering along with proof of distance travelled (receipts,
official stamps etc.)
The organisers take NO
responsibility for rider, pillion or machine.
____________________