OCTOBER RUNS
Saturday
3 Service Day. Club Captain’s place. After lunch.
Sunday
4 Maldon Spring Festival.
9.30am KBCP.
Sunday
11 Gary Young’s special tour.
9.30am KBCP.
Saturday
17 Treasurer’s night ride. 7pm KBCP.
Sunday
18 Mogg’s
Sunday
25 Inter-club Motorcycle
Gymkhana Championship.
(details in mag)
Weekend Mini Camping Weekend. Noojee.
1.30pm SHARP
Saturday
31 Lilydale. (trail bikes
welcome)
&
Sunday Nov 1
NOVEMBER
Friday
6 General Meeting. Club
Hall 8.15pm SHARP.
____________________
CLOSING DATE FOR ATICLES FOR NEXT MAG IS
23.10.81.
____________________
EDITORIAL – OCTOBER 1981
By the time you read
this we will be cosily tucked up by a campfire in Warren Gorge in the
A few pages over you
will find an article regarding a proposed “Back-O-Burke” bash. Quite an interesting idea. Bound to create a few sore bums. Put your thoughts on paper and send them to
us. We’ll print them and then everybody
will be able to see the pros and cons.
Get to it! We’ve got our own
thoughts, but feel it’s a bit early yet to put them on paper. Watch for the next editorial
While on the subject of
mag content, Les has put together an interesting article regarding Club
activities. Well worth a few minutes
thought!
Finally, if you take a
good look over the stories in this issue you will find that, out of 6 or 7
articles, only 2 are actually of official Club activities. This club has an activity every weekend, and
at every activity someone is asked to put pen to paper and yet only approx half
of these activities are ever written up.
What happens to the other half?
The remainder of the mag consists of material supplied by members of
their own bat, and usually of their own private activities, observations,
etc. Many thanks must go to these
members for their efforts, and for making the mag worth printing and reading.
Cheers Faye & Geoff.
____________________
MINI CAMPING WEEKEND -
Mini
camping weekend was right, I think the club must have got the wrong idea about
the word mini it was supposed to describe the distance not the attendance. Les Leahy and I were waiting anxiously at
Lilydale, 1.45 and still no sign of anymore members, we decided to go to
We
went to the caravan park and met the Morgan family and Mick Fagan, about half
an hour later Bruce arrived on his BMW.
After setting up our tents we decided to go for a ride, Faye and Geoff
played it smart and stayed at the park.
We headed towards Eildon and turned off the Snobs Creek road. After a small detour around a road closed
barricade we continued, the road soon turned into an obstacle course, storms
had knocked trees across the road, and we went up some smaller tracks and eventually
arrived back at the caravan park in time for tea. Bruce and I went to the local pub for a
counter meal. After arriving back at
camp we did a bit more talking and then hit the sack.
Sunday
morning we had breakfast, packed our gear and headed for home ending a quiet
but enjoyable weekend.
Philip
Andrews
Goldwing.
____________________
Maryborough WATTLE
FESTIVAL
After
being informed that Chris would be unable to make it owing to brake problems
with his B.M. Vince volunteered to lead on his Yam 1100 while I went rear. We managed to get out of the city just before
the “Super Run” started, going via the Tullamarine F/way out to Sunbury, then
onto the Calder H/way, heading for Maryborough.
As I was going through the
Detouring
down to the garage we parked our bikes and walked down the main street to watch
the procession which was to start in ½ hours time. Some took the chance and grabbed some
lunch. A few remarks were made about the
Hotel across the road called the “Bulls Mouth”.
When the parade started, there was a Pipe Band, a Brass Band, the man on
stilts, Morris Minor Club, the big M girls, just to name a few, the parade
lasted about an hour in which time we casually walked back to our bikes, where
I met a prospective member who joined us on the way home. He was riding an R65.
On
leaving we went down through Talblot doing a few turns before coming out onto
the H/way again, down to Creswick, taking the back road through Dean and
eventually coming out at Wallace onto the F/way for home. After Rockbank, we went south towards
Braybrook where we finally finished up outside the Go-Cart track near
“Big
Daddy”
R65
– 750/4
____________________
PROPOSED “BACK ‘O’ BOURKE”
BASH
In an attempt to
conserve money and rear tyres, the committee has scaled down outright distances
of club runs. A sign of the times, one
might say. But as sure as God made little
apples, one of the allures of owning a motorcycle is to ride a whole bunch of
miles somewhere and back, just for the hell of it.
Remember those
questionnaire sheets you filled in?
Well, the germ of an idea caused the programming people to formulate a
plan for a big’un. Wrap your brains
around this one.
On a 3 day weekend, a
group of intrepid MTCV members leave Echuca not long after first light (having
travelled to the border the night before)
heading north, they pass through Deniliquin and Hay before veering
westward across the vast plains of New South Wales. Hundreds of miles later, Wilcannia appears
out of the heat haze along with the welcome clay coloured waters of the
From Wilcannia the
narrow but solid gravel road is taken following the Darling north east. Grazing sheep, emus, eagles, kangaroos all
along the river plains and camp is made that night on the banks of the Darling.
Another early start next
morning has the group through Louth and arriving at the welcome oasis of Bourke
for an early lunch and quick look over the metropolis or a quiet rest under a
shady tree in the central park. It has
been the sort of trip you’d never do by yourself and may never get the chance
to do again. A countryside that very few
east coasters ever see.
From here on its bitumen
all the way. Nyngan, Narromine and one
more nights camping, Parkes, Forbes and eventually home. No, not the sort of trip for everyone, but if
Keithy Harris can ride around
When? Well how about
If the basic idea sort
of grabs you, have a talk to Chris our Club Captain and see what ideas you can
put together.
____________________
I
have recently had a couple of comments regarding at least one rider overtaking
other riders – on the LEFT on single lane roads. As a result I would like to bring the
attention of all the Clause 8(d) of the Club’s Road Rules. I shan’t quote it- YOU look it up in the
Constitution, read and inwardly digest.
If anyone should witness further actions along this line I suggest
he/she report the offender to the Club Captain so that the guilty party may
receive a good dressing down and be told how bloody silly his/her actions are!
Geoff
CX500
____________________
FRIDAY
THE 13th IS COMING----------------FRIDAY THE 13th IS COMING.
____________________
RALLY RAVE – GOLD RUSH
& PUMA RALLIES
It’s
a while since I last did an article for the club mag & as I haven’t been on
any rides of late, I thought I would share with you my experiences of the last
two rallies that I attended. The rallies
were the Gold Rush Rally, organised by the M.R.A and the Puma Rally, organised
by someone around Horsham.
First
off let me tell you about the Gold Rush Rally.
It was held on the weekend of august 22-23, 1981. Weather conditions at the rally site were
ideal contrary to the belief that we had in
Since
I didn’t know of anyone travelling to the rally from the M.T.C.V. I joined forces with the G.M.R.R.A. (wingding
club). Five wings left John Leleans flat
in Thornbury and travelled out of
Upon
arriving at Avoca, we headed to the nearest pub that offered good beer, good
company and good food. The scene outside
the local pub caused me to make the following observation, that apart from
bikes and their ancillary grounds of comment, the next greatest activity that
we enjoy is congregating at a place that supplies, in copious quantities the
afore mentioned items. As this was the
case we decided that if we wished to be fed at all we would have to find a
take-away place where the crowds were a little bit thinner. After we bought food, drink and petrol, we
headed out to the rally site which was about 30Km N.W of Avoca.
Having
been to one gold rush previously I knew that the track in was going to be
interesting but what I didn’t realise was that it was that “INTERESTING”. 20 inches of rain in 2 months turned last
year’s pot hole into a mud patch, the creek crossing into 1ft deep river, and
to those who went, need I say more about the last creek crossing and mud
bath. Being in the lead has some
benefits, ie getting someone else to find a new route out of a potentially
boggy situation. When I came upon the
last creek crossing and mud bath, I surveyed the available tracks that lead
around the formidable mud bath, took a deep breath and rode the wing along the
best track. After we cleaned the creek I
had a closer look at the mud patch and observed that there might be a better
track out to our left. John obligingly
consented to giving it a go and was going well for about 20 metres, when for no
reason the rear end sunk. When I saw the
look in John’s eyes I thought I had better make the best of what I had, another
deep breath and the wing slipped and slid into the mud patch. Miraculously the patch had a firm base, I
picked a freshly made wheel rut and motored through to some high and dry
ground. By this time John was out of his
predicament and he joined the rest of us, but this was not the last
escapade. 200 metres down the track
there was a panel van stopped on the track, John in his wisdom thought it would
be easier to go off the track and around the van rather than crawl along the
edge of the track and narrowly miss the van like the rest of us, WRONG, down he
went again up to the axle, minutes later a Kwaka tried the same route with the
same result.
Upon
entering the camp site, which was on private property, we signed in at the
control tent, while the others were debating as to where we were going to camp;
I decided to do some scouting around for a suitable site. I travelled about 50 metres when the bike
stopped dead and sank; this is usually the time when a wing owner finds out who
his friends really are. Four kind
hearted souls took pity on me after they stopped laughing and helped me
out. I turned the bike around and
rejoined the others, they had selected a site and were on their bikes but for
some silly reason I pulled on the front brake and let the clutch out, no the
bike didn’t stall, it just buried itself up to the diff. I got off it unpacked, set camp and took some
pics, then dug it out.
As
the afternoon progressed, Phil Andrews and I decided that a trip to the nearest
pub would be in order. The trip out and
back was no sweat, we helped a Z1000 out of a bog. Poor fellow didn’t know that the track was as
bad as it was.
When
we returned to camp we settled down to a quiet evening observing the occasional
petrol bomb and dough nut. After a rave
with the Ballarat boys it was beddy bye’s.
Morning
dawned with a clear sky and a healthy layer of frost over most things left out
the previous night. After a walk around
the camp site, we broke camp and made our way out to the bitumen. If I thought that the track in was fun, on
the way out the track was transformed rather dramatically from having a coating
of mud to a sea of sticky ooze and narrow wheel ruts to trenches that a
pipeliner would have been proud of.
Well
I suppose it had to happen sometime, half way through the mud bath, the front
and rear wheels of the wing couldn’t decide in which direction they should go,
so they thought that they would lie down and think about the matter. Thankfully there were some helpful trail bike
riders near by and they helped me pick the bike up. With the mud bath and the two creek crossings
negotiated, there only remained the pot hole to get through. A note to Mr Honda, could we please have a
Goldwing with more ground clearance, thank you.
Phil
invited me to try the potholes first as he thought that with all the stuff on
my bike if I could get through, so could he.
It was here that I learned something, in
99.99% of all cases it is advisable to follow wheel ruts, not so, as
Goldwings have only 00.01% sales share in the motorcycle market, it also
follows that there will be a higher percentage of wheel ruts that wings cannot
travel in where other bikes can.
Well,
up ahead I saw this rut and thought and was advised that this was the one to
follow. The first 20 feet was O.K and
then the bike bottomed and that was it, no go, four able bodied men then got
hold of the bike and pushed and heaved the bike out and once again I was on my
way. Phil had a similar problem and
within a short time John joined us and we were on our way towards Avoca and
lunch.
Back
at the take away shop in Avoca we refuelled both ourselves and the bikes, at
this shop we encountered a fellow rider who had an encounter with a bottle of
Bundy rum, he had a king-size hangover and was ordering coffee by the gallon.
On
the road again we travelled to Maryborough where we called in to see a fellow
wing rider, Phil and I left Maryborough and headed for
Thanks
to Marcus, Phil, John and Stefan from the Wing Ding club for a great weekend.
And
now for the second rally that I wish to tell you about. Yes folks it’s the one and only, the rally
with mud that defies description, it’s the PUMA RALLY (Muddus Incredabillus). This is THE rally where all bike riders and
some pillion riders really get sucked in.
Saturday morning dawned with me doing some last minute packing, at
7.30am I swung my leg over the bike and headed southwards towards Keith’s home
with an E.T.A of 8.30am, this was the first time for a while I was actually on
time. Upon arrival at Keith’s I met
Frank (the wank), while waiting for the man to finish his brekkie, we debated
upon who would lead and it worked out, the leader was the person in front at
any time. Today was the day when I was
going to try out my newly acquired C.B. Ever tried to do a left hand turn,
indicate, drop a gear, brake and ratchet jaw with someone who’s got their ears
on, it’s bloody near impossible and is not recommended for a healthy life.
We
left Essendon and headed for Laverton where I had to refuel, from there we went
to Balmoral via
While
in the pub a rider came in and being covered in mud, we asked him what the road
was like, I can’t remember exactly what he said but I think that he referred to
the last ½ Km’s as being a little muddy, a gleam came into Frank’s eyes. He also said, Frank, that we should stay on
the track and not leave it. Well it took
us 20 minutes to cover 24 ½ km and 2 hours to cover the last ½ lm. When I arrived at the rally entrance I did
what everyone else did, stop and have a good think about what we were going to
do and where we were going.
Frank
thinks that B.Ms do most things better than a Wing but I am afraid that you
will to try a little bit harder if you think a 90S will out bog a GL1000. Yes folks Frank disregarded the advice given
at Balmoral and went off the track.
After helping Frank on his way, Keith, Phil Andrews and myself and
another bloke on a water bottle attempted to first section without much
difficulty. Rounding a bend we saw a
sight that was beyond description, 50 metre stretch of ooze leading to the
campsite. Well I was then in the lead so
I gave it a go, result, after travelling 2 metres (one bike length) the Wing
was up to its belly in mud and refused to go no further. My entourage saw this and stopped their bikes
on firm ground while they surveyed my predicament. After some minutes a crowd formed to look,
laugh and take pictures of the Wing, but so far no offers of help were
forthcoming. In the end I was given an
ultimatum seek an alternative route or leave the Wing where it was. When four blokes offered to help me get the
bike up to the high track I gratefully accepted their offer and in about 20
minutes I was up at the camp site where I met Mark Sulot and friend and the
Morgan family. Half an hour later Keith
and Phil showed up, it appears that they took the high track to get in, and I
heard that in some places this track was no better than the proper track.
On
the main track anyone who attempted to get through got bogged at least twice
while attempting to get through that last horror stretch, rumour has it that
there is a 4WD under that morass ( I almost believe it). None the less there was always someone
willing to lend a hand to a bogged fellow rider, even the R80 GS’s were in
difficulties on this section.
Once
camp was set and night time came upon us it was down to cooking food, opening a
can or 2 or 3 etc of the liquid amber.
As the night wore on the boys got our and started doing doughnuts on
their bikes and as if this wasn’t enough the proceedings were interspersed with
rocket flares being sent aloft, petrol bombs exploding and a new touch to an
old theme, doughnut brown eyes. During
the evening Dave Sheath wandered over to our camp fire with a few of his
friends in tow, the latest news on Dave is that he is working in the spare
parts department of Pitmans Yamaha in Adelaide.
Around 10pm I went to bed and slept I had dreams of the Wing being
swallowed up in the mud hole below the control tent.
Morning
dawned and the topic that was on everyone’s lips was which was the better track
to go out on. Keith and Marcus took the
high road while Phil, Geoff and myself took the low road. Well the bog was not as bad as I thought it
was and I only got bogged once and bellied it twice on the entire trek
outwards. Once again find a good wheel
rut and you will most likely be OK. The
three of us helped each other out of any trouble that we got ourselves into and
considering the conditions that we encountered the going was very good.
At
the entrance to the rally we bid farewell to the Morgans who headed north to
Horsham while we retraced our route homewards. At Balmoral Keith, Phil, Marcus and myself
stopped for fuel and to wash our bikes, while we did this Frank caught up to
us.
From
Balmoral we went to Skipton for a late lunch and more fuel and then on to
Overheard
at rally,
“G’day
mate, watcha ride in”.
“GS1000
Sharft”
“Yeah,
that’s nice, what happened to the rest of the bike”
(Thanks,
Dave Sheath).
Kevin
GL1000 & C.B
____________________
NEZ, AND THE ART OF MOTORCYCLE MAINTENANCE.
It’s a funny thing you
know; This motorcycling. It never really
changes at all. Like pointy toe shoes it
just comes and goes with the fashion.
And like all fashions,
it’s like span is pretty damn short.
Just take the weekend camps for instance. ‘
‘Big deal’, you say.
‘The Lakes’ weekend saw
a turnout of 4 or 5, inadvertently split into two groups
‘Well it was the middle
of winter’, you ay.
‘
Easter is always hard to
organise, but if it hadn’t been for Lynne and Ian calling through on their
holidays you could have counted the MTCV campers on the fingers of one hand and
still have a thumb and a couple of fingers left over.
Are you getting the
drift of all this?
For a specialist touring
club, we aren’t rating too highly at the moment in the camping out business.
So this is where the
pointy toe shoes come in. Ten years ago,
if you weren’t at the campsite on the Friday night of the weekend, you couldn’t
find space to pitch a tent. (And that
included places like Mallacoota in the middle of winter). At this stage, Sunday runs were pulling a
pathetic 8 or 9,. And then motorcycling
boomed. Club rides were hauling in 50 or
60, and would you believe, weekend camping started to die in the bum. At this stage it occurred to me that it takes
a new motorcyclist a long time to get the hang of belting out mile after mile
on a regular basis (and many fall by the wayside in the process.) And it takes a hell of a lot longer to
combine this with hacking it out under the stars. (By this stage your dropout rate is getting
pretty high.)
Then came what was
quietly referred to as the ‘Essendon Push’.
An enthusiastic group who put weekend camping back on the map. Joined by a few others with previous
experience or who learned fast, we had ourselves a pretty strong core. And then time, differing interests and old
age eroded the ranks, and here we are back in the doldrums again. But with the Sunday runs working like
wild-fire.
‘What is the boy on
about”, you say.
An old friend of mine,
called Bob Evans, used to say that there were only two things you could be sure
of in life; “Death and Taxes’.
Well, there is a third!
It is that riding
motorbikes in this country is pretty small potatoes.
You’re going to find
this pretty difficult to believe I know, especially if you’ve just bought the
latest whiz-bang 750cc Kamasutra and the first rush of 100mph air (whatever
metrics has done to that) is still ringing in your ears. But the average span
of a motorcyclist’s ACTIVE involvement would only be 2 or 2 ½ years at
the maximum. And the number of boys and
girls who continue to throw a leg over a bike any longer than that would
represent somewhere between 5% and 10% of all those who started out on the
motorcycling kick. And then when we get
down to the ones who really take the old business seriously, we’re into actual
‘pissing in the wind’ territory. And I
don’t care how many MTCV’s or MRA’s or 4 owner’s there are, it ain’t ever going
to be any different.
So that’s why there’s no
reason for getting knickers in a knot over club activities not pulling the
numbers. Only a tiny minority has and
will ever be privileged to partake.
So there!
Les. (Vice-Captain)
By the way, the
cornering clearance of my 200cc Kamasutra is playing merry hell with the ends
of my pointy toe shoes.
____________________
FRIDAY THE 13TH
IS COMING
____________________
MTCV INTERCLUB MOTORCYCLE GYMKHANA CHAMPIONSHIP
25th October
1981.
MEETING PLACE:
MEETING TIME: 10am (leave 10.30am SHARP)
VENUE: Within 40km of G.P.O
EVENTS: Three Novelties & One Trials.
This gymkhana is a Club
effort in which the Perpetual Trophy goes to the Club not the
individual with the highest points.
There will be individual trophies for each event, with points from these
events accruing towards each Club’s total.
B.B.Q facilities will be
available with the M.T.C.V. providing sausages.
NO ALCOHOL will be permitted.
NO TRAIL BIKES will be permitted in
events.
CLUB CAPTAIN
M.T.C.V.
____________________
FRIDAY 13th
IS COMING......
FANCY DRESS
DOUBLE FEATURE
HORROR SHOW
FRIDAY 13th
NOV. 8.30pm.
Social Sec’s Place. Unit 17/28-36,
ADMISSION $4.00
BUT
IF IN FANCY DRESS ONLY
$1.50
To help with supper a
plate (with something on it) would be appreciated.