ITINERARY DECEMBER
1985/ JANUARY 1986
1st GREAT OCEAN ROAD been there, done that.
9.00
KBCP
6th GENERAL MEETING Christmas club BBQ
6.30
Club Hall
8th WALHALA Inter club cricket
match
9.00
KBCP MTCV vs.
FOUR OWNERS
10.15
Hallam
15th REEFTON/BLACK
SPUR Ben’s twisties Mk V
9.00
KBCP
10.30
Yarra Glen
22nd ECONOMY
RIDE counter lunch
at Blackwood
9.00
KBCP
Weekend CLUB CAMP TAWONGA
Caravan Park, situated near
26/12 to Mt.
Beauty. Make your own way.
3/1
KEITH
WHO’S NEWS
EGADS, SHOCK,
HORROR. A tradition has been broken, a
club ride left EARLY
Another
tradition broken? Most treasurers are
content with a new bike, but not our present holder of the purse strings. He’s invested in real-estate as well as a
shiny new u’beaut 900
Talking
of things going on down at the harbour, Ted M has taken up the sport of scuba
diving. He told me he had no fear
despite seeing the movie JAWS but admitted there’s very little to fear in a
Clarke pool.
A
member had his ego dented recently/ having for several K’s kept in front of a
renowned hard charger. Only to be told
later that he was followed as it was thought he knew the road...thanks Wayne.
Kenny is again supporting the economy by
buying more spare parts.
BM’s come to the fore again in
motorcycling development with their new quick detachable front-end.
RAFFLE
WINERS
1st PRIZE...Microwave Oven
M.
Miskin ticket No. 440
2nd ...Blender
M. Gillin ticket No. 268
3rd ...Toaster
S. Doherty ticket No. 376
LETTERS TO THE
EDITOR
I
would just like to take this opportunity to say what a well written and
informative article: “What to take on a club rides” was. Good Vibrations Oct. 85.
It
was obvious that the author had done extensive road testing to compile the
section on high and low speed crashes.
But
surely when he replaced his chain and sprockets at 28,000km, he replaced both
sprockets?
Gary
Lloyd.
Thanks
Gary, that is the only feedback I have received to date.
A
few statistics:
Chains
replaced at 27,800, 43,880 and 48,640km
Front
sprocket replaced at 27,800 and 43,880km
Rear
sprocket unchanged at 50,000 km (negligible wear)
As for “Extensive road testing”, I only
note that people in glass houses....
Ben
Scientists
have determined that the average time of intercourse is 4 minutes
The
average number of strokes per minute is 9, making the average intercourse 36
strokes. Since the average length is six
inches, the average girl receives 216 inches or 18 feet per intercourse. The average girl does it about 3 times per
week, 52 times per year = 150 times 18ft = 2700 feet or just over half a mile
every year. So girl, if you are not
getting your half mile every year, why not let the man who gave you this card
help you catch up....
“SENSIBLE
CLOTHING?”
On
a recent ride to Apollo Bay the Geelong road was closed due to a gas pipeline
leak. This resulted in traffic being
diverted through Little River and caused quite a hold up. With the slow progress of the long column of
cars, most of us rode down the right side.
This is the usual practice but it does require some caution.
The
ride became well spaced out because of this congestion. As I passed the Little River showgrounds a
fellow on a Katana 650 pulled out in front of me and took position behind a car
and trailer. We couldn’t of been doing
more than 15 km/h, when the car suddenly braked. The trailer had no brake lights but he was
too close to the trailer to notice the cars brake lights. Grabbing a fist of front brake on the gravel
put him on the ground. I stopped to help
him pick his bike up and he seemed to be in a lot of pain. When I got to him I saw that his leg had been
neatly sliced open from his ankle to his knee.
The cut was deep enough to reveal all the muscles and the shin bone.
This
simple accident really STUFFED UP this guys leg and all because he was only
going to take a short ride and didn’t really need to wear his boots or
gloves. God only knows why he wore a
helmet.
I
wish that you had seen it.
A
LESSON TO US ALL I THINK
Gary
Lloyd
THINK ABOUT WHAT
YOU WEAR
HOROSCOPE FOR
TRENDIES.
Aquarius You have an inventive mind and are
inclined to be progressive. You lie a
great deal; on the other hand, you are inclined to be careless and impractical,
causing you to make the same mistakes repeatedly. Everyone thinks you are a jerk!
Pisces You have a vivid imagination and
often think you are being followed by the FBI or ASIO. You have minor influence over your good
friends and people resent you for flaunting your power. You lack confidence and are generally a
coward. Pisces people kick small animals
and pick their nose.
Aries You are the pioneer type and
hold most people in contempt. You are
quick tempered, impatient and scornful of advice. You are a thorough bastard.
Taurus You are practical and
persistent. You have dogged
determination and work like hell. Most
people think you are stubborn and bull-headed.
You are nothing but a god dam communist!
Gemini You are quick, intelligent and a
thinker. People like you because you are
bisexual. However, you are inclined to
expect too much for little. This means
you are a cheap bastard! Gemini’s are
notorious for thriving on incest.
Cancer You are sympathetic and
understanding to other people’s problems.
They think you are a sucker. You
are always putting things off. That is
why you will always be on welfare and won’t be worth a cracker.
Leo You consider yourself a born
leader. Others think you are pushy. Most Leo’s are bullies. You are vain and cannot tolerate honest
criticism. Your arrogance is
disgusting. Leo people are thieving rats
and kiss mirrors a lot.
Virgo You are the artistic type and
have a difficult time with reality. In
fact, you are really quite strange.
Chances for employment and monetary gain are excellent. Many Libra’s die of venereal disease.
Scorpio You are shrewd in business and
cannot be trusted. You will achieve the
pinnacle of success because of your total lack of ethics. You are a perfect son-on-a-bitch. Most Scorpio people are murdered.
Sagittarius You are optimistic and
enthusiastic. You have a reckless
tendency to rely on luck, since you have no talent. The majority of Sagittarius people are
drunkards and pot – heads. People laugh
at you a lot because you are always getting done.
Capricorn You are conservative and afraid of
taking risks. You are basically a
wimp. There has never been a Capricorn
of any importance. You should kill
yourself.
Sunday 1st
December 1985 Great Ocean Road (odometer calibration)
Ben
(GPZ900), Hans (K100), Keith (Z1300), Wayne (VF1000F), Phil & Kids (K100
& chair), Robyn (CX650), Ross (GS1000G), Ian & Kerry (GT750), Jeff
& Helen (XJ900), Janet (GPz550), Peter & Lorri (GSX750), Ian (Z900),
Murray (GBX550), Craig (RZ3500.
I
arrived at KBCP on only my second ride with the club and found ten other riders
ready to set off for Apollo Bay via Geelong and the Great Ocean Road. There were three new riders in the
group. The weather was fine, dry but a
bit windy.
Headed
off over Westgate bridge, no longer any toll for the privilege of being blown
into the guard rail, and then down to the second pickup at the Laverton
servo. Departed the service station at
one minute to ten. Keith and Peter
arrived at ten o’clock exactly and they finally caught up with us at Anglesea.
We
all reset our odometers at a kilometre post just past Laverton and then checked
the reading at another post 42km down the road (results are shown on next
page). Geelong road had a number of cars
on it but no hold ups.
We
got mixed up with half a dozen other bikes as we were going through Geelong but
didn’t find out who they were as they shot straight through at Anglesea while
we stopped for morning tea. The break
was slightly longer than planned as we had to wait for Ian (Z900) to get going
again after his bike had mysteriously stopped.
Apparently the ignition lead had fallen off.
Janet
got a good view of a suicidal magpie playing chicken with the front wheel of my
bike (score: CBX 1, magpie 0).
We
finally passed under the sign indicating we were indeed on the Great Ocean Road
(pronounced GO Road). It seemed in
pretty good shape, dry, only a few patches of gravel and traffic was
light. Headed straight for Apollo Bay,
no stops, but just backed off occasionally to take in the great views. Quite a few white caps out on the water
whipped up by the stiff southerly breeze.
The
main street of Apollo Bay looked like Italy.
The Ducati Club had a day out it seems and a good number of the Italian
bone shakers were parked in the gutter.
(I think the backup vehicle carrying spares must have been parked out of
sight)
It
was the first day of summer but you wouldn’t have thought so. People were standing around leaving their
jackets on for a bit of extra protection from the cold wind coming straight in
off the sea.
After
lunch (everyone trying to give away their chips, nice but plentiful) we shot
back down the GOR to Lorne where we headed inland towards Deans Marsh. Great country, green and lush. A Porsche 911 proved impossible to pass on
the tight twisties. It was only when he
got held up by another car that I finally got past him.
Keith
complained that on the open roads heading back to Geelong he could only manage
200kmp into the wind. I think he needs a
bigger bike (impossible) or a smaller barn door (very possible).
We
regrouped back at Geelong. A few riders
had already left the group at Apollo Bay and Lorne. We broke up at Geelong at about four o’clock
after a good days riding.
As
this was supposed to be an odometer calibration run, here are the results
obtained: (first number is the odometer reading after 42km, second number is
the actual distance travelled when the odometer indicates 1000km)
Ben (GPz900) 43.1 974.5 Ross
(GS1000G) 42.45 989.4
Hans (K100) 41.4 1014.5 Ian
(Z900) 42.9 797.0
Wayne (VF1000F) 42.2 995.3 Janet (GPz550) 41.9 1002.4
Phil (K1000) 42.3 992.9 Murray
(CBX550) 40.7 1031.9
Robyn (CX650) 42.65 984.8 Craig (RZ350) 42.7 983.6
Ian/Kerry
(GT750) 42.5 988.2 Jeff/Helen
(XJ900) 44.5 943.8
Murray (CBX550)
NOT THE NEWS
FROM LAKES ENTRANCE (November 16/17)
The
usual group of drunks, deros and deviants assembled at the KBPC on a typical
MCTCV morning departure – bright sunlight few could bear and the usual large
supplies of Green Ginger Wine, which was generously shared with the assembled
under – bridge dwellers in place of their sweet sherry. Normal collection of bikes – 17 Harleys
(assorted), tow Urals and a Suzuki rabbit.
Those not wearing the regulation dress – black open face with tasteful
swastika, trendy mirror shades and smart fringed jacket were flung into the Yarra
and their bikes chopped up into small pieces and mailed to the poor in Ethiopia
in the hope that they could make something useful out of them.
To
the accompaniments of bottles crashing onto the road, we sped off towards
beautiful Mordialloc, kicked in a few car doors en route and helped a few old
ladies across the road when they didn’t want to cross. We felt so much better after this magnificent
display of benevolence towards the world at large. After a long delay at Cranbourne for a bit of
raping and pillaging, we reluctantly left the Farmers Arms and, curiously,
found our way to Wonthaggi. “Goodness!”,
we cried, what extraordinary navigation; our cleverness reached new heights
when we arrived in Foster to the cheers of the multitudes and a barrage of farm
produce form some ill-mannered yokels dressed in smocks and an ear of wheat
dangling from their mouths. (Well, it seemed to be wheat). The meal was a very leisurely one-four hours
in fact, and we were truly grateful to Bishop Wince for the dispensation from
the cruel, only one hour, normal boozing session. Apart from a few up chucking in hamburgaries
on the way, we reached Lakes Entrance without any hassles.
At
the Motel Lust-re, we found some of our comrades already ensconced – couldn’t
get any sense out of them, though, as they were off their faces, as usual. Heaven knows what debauchery our arrival
prevented. In appreciation of our
custom, the motel proprietors had left champagne, flowers and chocolates in
each room. We were impressed.
Or
arrival at the local hostelry, en masse of course and surrounded by clouds of
strange smelling burning herb, we found the place left to us as the locals
withdrew, bowing and murmuring salutations as they went out on bended
knees. The whole roast ox ordered
earlier was torn apart by the group and eaten and I am sorry to say the
Axminster looked a bit the worse for wear.
However, the publican didn’t seem to mind as free barrels of Chateau
Incredible were dispensed regularly.
Some unfortunate locals crept back in and were immediately set upon by
the members and I am happy to say that this time, no one was pillaged; remember
the Bandiditoes? Some eventually found
their way back to the motel, some found the guitarist interesting (bit hairy,
wasn’t he?). dear reader, I shall not
attempt to describe what went on in the depths of the night – Fred Nile, where
were you when we needed you?
The
morning found everyone without exception cheerful and vibrant with life,
desperately seeking a breakfast of pork chops and runny eggs (yum!). This nourishment was a must for the morning
catamaran boat trip to Paynesville or the ride in the hail to Bruthen. The weather gods were not kind to us for the
return journey (small wonder) and precipitation persisted. We dined at Molly’s Folly in Bairnsdale on
the journey back to Melbourne – the children in the playground at the Folly
voted the boiled lollies and green ginger wine we gave them as No. 1.
Tucker! Your correspondent left at Traralgon
to escape the pursuing police and can only surmise what happened later.
So
that’s what you missed. And if you’re
silly enough to believe all this tripe, then it serves you right if you spend
the next three months banging your head against the wall for missing this
weekend.
Peter
Dwyer XJ900
Sunday 3-11-85 Yea via Reefton Spur
Here
it is midweek and I’m just writing last Sunday’s ride report. Now what happened? I recall it was a very enjoyable day, weather
– perfect spring day, the roads – entertaining, and a few new faced for the
ride. Ben led the excursion from the
KBCP to Yarra Glen via Kangaroo Ground (with Geoff/Rhonda as tail rider) where
we met with the rest of the group to make a total of thirteen bikes (&three
pillions) Unlucky?
After
a short smoko (morning tea) the travels resumed through to Healesville on the
back roads. Then Launching Place,
Warburton and, wait for it, the highlight of the day, Reefton SPUR. Slogging along to the best of my ability,
being passed by most bikes, rounded a bend saw bikes stopped everywhere. Disaster? No, Ben stopped to check rear tyre
pressure, too high, rear end sliding out too much (never trust servo gauges)
Meeting
up at the end of the Spur road where is Robyn?
Back tracking a couple of k’s to where we last saw her patiently waiting
beside her bike. Seized too much
red-ling for the RD. Fortunately the
damage was not serious and the bike was able to be ridden through to Marysville
then home. Lunch at Marysville, Jack
spent twenty minutes reassembling the Laverda, surprised that nothing had
actually vibrated off.
After
lunch a reduced group of six continued the ride towards Alexandra (turned off
3km out) to Molesworth. Keith
“Ornithologist” Finlay took a lesson in Magpie spotting. It spotted everywhere. Much to the detriment of his mirror.
Finally
on to Yea for a nominal visit (it was mentioned on the itinerary)
The
usual blast to Whittlesea, where the ride broke up.
Tony
G GT750
MARYSVILLE 24.11.85
Ten Bikes:
Laverda 1200 Jack Youdan 20 years 220,00
km+
K100RS Tom Seville 17
years 500,00 km+
K100RS Hans Wurster 30
years 1 million miles +
K100RT Ian first
ride
GS100G Gary Osborne 12
years 500,000 km+
XJ900 Vince Green 28
years 500,000 km+
GPz900 Ken Wurster 3
years 70,000 km
GPz900 Ben/Janet 6/2.5
years 180,00/35,000 km
R80 G/S Andrera Sirninger 4
years 50,000 km
Weather:
overcast, warmish
Janet and I
arrived at KBCP to find Tom busily duct taping a camera and assorted bracketry
to the seat of his K100. The trigger
mechanism was mounted on his left handle bar and the camera faced
backwards. The photos may be used in
“Australian Motor Cycle News” to promote the club. We departed 10 minutes late
with Tome leading and Les the rear rider for what proved to be a most eventful,
yet very satisfying ride. Judging by the
number of very experienced and skilful riders present, (and I do not count
myself amongst these, especially as a couple were riding before I was born),
the ride would be swift and demanding.
The unknown quantities were (i) Ian on his first ride not wearing jacket
or gloves, (ii) Ken who’d had less sleep than the previous Saturday’s night
excesses (the bar closed two hours earlier for him than it did for anyone
else!) and (iii) would the 900 hold up after all yesterday’s work on it which
included new fork seals and fork oil, fitting a new chain, installing new left
hand side brake calliper seals and associated brake fluid changing and
bleeding.
First stop Yarra
Glen. On the last corner running down
the mountain I pulled up hard to catch Tom verbally blast an errant car driver
in a white Commodore or Falcon. The
driver had slowly done a right hand turn coming up the hill across Tom’s path
right on the corner. Tom, locked up
under brakes, had lain the bike over on both sides in a desperate effort to
avoid hitting the car and succeeded.
Hans, within sight of the whole Smokey incident, believed that if he
were in Toms’ place, well. With motors running, everyone dressed I wondered why
our leader did not depart. Ian was
cleaning his visor, blissfully unaware of Vince’s honking horn. We sat, we waited.
Now the ride
flowed. Kangaroo Ground re-appeared as
we back tracked through Christmas Hills.
The section after ST Andrews needed strict concentration. Corners marked at 25 km/h were awkward if you
missed seeing the sign, especially for the pillion. We regrouped at Kinglake,
then onwards (see map) to Yea for petrol and an early lunch. My fuel gauge showed half full, but indicated
about a quarter full immediately after lunch once the foam had settled.
It was slightly
embarrassing telling Ian that members present included the president and vice
president, the captain and vice captain, the social secretary and a number of
former committee members, especially after Vince told us of his usual speed
exploits of hitting this section of dirt at 180 km/h and doing 210 km/h along
here. So when Vince offered Janet a ride
on a comfortable bike, Ian and Vince were slightly taken aback when she agreed.
A flurry of suspension adjusting took
place.
The dust between
Break O’Day and Glenburn was unpleasant and I thought of my air filter and new
chain. Leaving another couple of
kilometres of dirt new Castella, I saw Andrera not far ahead. At the intersection looming up on our right a
white Commodore or Falcon appeared and stopped, hesitated, then WENT, failing
to give way. A white van behind it made
as if to follow. Andrera had nowhere to
go but the dirt (which was where I wanted to go!) The driver then stopped in
the middle of the road (having completed the turn) blocking traffic from both
directions. Unlocking the rear wheel I
pulled up surprisingly quickly (no pillion).
As I squeezed past the car, relieved at the thought of not being hit by
oncoming traffic, I gave his mirror a healthy nudge, which I immediately
regretted.
Ian, having seen
some or the entire incident, apparently spoke to the driver, possibly
apologising for my actions. I now
apologise to the club for bringing its name into disrepute.
At the next
opportunity Ian declared to Vince his intention of leaving the ride. He did not wish to be associated with “lawless” motorcyclists, namely me.
On to
Healesville and up the back road to Mt. Donna Buang. I have never been along this road before and
was quite impressed: 14km of smooth uphill, carless windies. The 10km of tight, gravelly dirt road at the
end dampened my enthusiasm somewhat.
Once regaining
the bitumen I realised that my speedo had stopped. The cable was part way out and soon
salvaged. Les assured me Marysville via
the Acheron Way was most probable. We
regrouped at the Mt Donna Buang intersection to the summit and discussed
events. Then headed for Warburton and I
knew I would need petrol. As I made up
for lost time I met Janet riding Vince’s XJ900 coming the other way. (That’s another one you’ve sold Vince,
though Ray Thomas bought a blue GPz900 after
riding mine) the rest of the troupe were at Reefton, psyching themselves up
for the blitz over the Spur.
Jack had the
Jota well stocked up and was using almost the entire road to straighten out the
corners. I ducked under him on one
occasion and slotted in behind Hans. The
three of us rode in Indian file until Tom (fooling with the ever lop sided
camera) slowed us. Jack idled past. Then Tom vanished. We resumed our snake formation, albeit in a
different order. Apparently Hans was
running out of cornering clearance, his pipe clanging away.
At Cumberland
Junction we regrouped and waited. No
Ken. Andrera arrived with the bad news.
Brakes locked
up, Ken had sailed past Andrera and Gary, in a desperate passing manoeuvre,
while in hot pursuit of Vince and Janet who seconds earlier had whizzed by
him. He
failed to negotiate the following right hand corner. Gary, (Mr Fix it), with the help of a piece
of wood stuck down the handlebar and plenty of duct tape, soon had the 900
moving again.
Ken had ripped
his gloves and cords suffering gravel rash to his knew (not bad). He was okay.
All bikies walk with a limp don’t they?
The bike
suffered the usual cosmetic damage: right hand side blinkers, mirror,
handlebar, foot peg, foot peg mounting bracket, and muffler (4 into 1 grazed,
dented and compressed), and miscellaneous scuffing to fairings and engine
cases. It will be as new the next time
we see it.
Marysville for
“lunch”. Front tyre (ribbed Pirellis)
wear on the Wursters’ machines was defined as 5,000 kilometres worth. Both tyres were wrecked, the sides chewed
out.
I regained a
pillion for the ride over the Black Spur to Healesville where we
disbanded. Home via Yarra Glen, passing
through Christmas Hills for the third time that day. A round trip of 460 km left the odometer
reading 49,300km.
Ben (GPz900)
p.s. for those
interested, my rear MP7 Pirelli radial had done 10,500km and the front
9,500km. The GOR next week will probably
finish the rear off. (It did)
p.p.s. cheap
($45) DID heavy duty chain (not O-ring chain) lasted 4,800km. I bought it as an expensive experiment: the
only apparent difference was the lack of O-rings.
KARUMBA OR BUST
WHERE’S KARUMBA ?
ON THE GULF OF CARPENTARIA
A ride with a
difference, as this was not an endurance test of man or machine, and besides I
am pushing 60 from the top back as fast as I can. As I was not going fast, far or for long, I
went on the CX500 instead of the Yammi 850.
Also the Honda does 60 M.P.G, bugga metrics, as against 40 on the Yammi,
which is a bit more change in the pocket after 11,400km. The cheapest petrol at Nambour 45.5 cents per
litre. That’s roughly 100 km North of
Brisbane. The dearest was Karumba
66.5. Normanton 76km this side 66.3c
Bourke and Wills roadhouse 200km this side 66.1c.
I chose Friday
27th September as my set off date.
This gave me 5 days to be at Normanton where I wanted to be before
Wednesday to go on the once a week sail motor to Croydon, an old gold mining
place 100 miles east of Normanton, which is on the way to Cairns if you don’t
mind 200 miles of dirt road, very bad dirt road from all accounts. Being a bike magazine, I will say nothing
about the sail motor trip except he or we arrived 2 hours ahead of time and
total distance is only 100 miles.
First day,
Friday, saw me at 5pm at Coonabarabran.
I intended leaving 7am. They say
the road to hell is paved with good intentions so I must be going there. I left at 8.30 going through Goondiwindi,
Moonie, no visible signs of oil, or anything except one service station, and
Roma for the night. The country was
green with plenty of blue and white flowers on the roadside as well as birdlife
including water birds. Also bees; I got
a sting on the neck and by nightfall I had more double chins than Menzies if
you know who he was. I am allergic to
bee stings and my arm was swollen to the elbow and half way down my chest: by
morning after taking 2000 of Vitamin C, the swelling was half gone. The only thing maturely at Roma, visibly that
is, is that the streets are lined with bottle trees, and for those who may
think I don’t know the real name, Boabob.
From here on to
Charleville, where for the only time, tow lots of police drove behind me for
about 6km. Do they think that we may see
them in our rear vision mirror then speed up to give them the pleasure of
booking us? No hope. I never went over 100 and sometimes less if
the road was rough. That night (Sunday),
I stayed at Barcaldine, a 2 pub town with 5 pubs.
All buildings
one side of the street and railway line the other. There’s a real old cafe there, but not called
“outback” or “Nth west” or something with imagination. Not even “Beryl and Bills” or “Tom or
Janet’s”. “Blue Danube” is its name,
which if nothing else gives you a clue to the IQ of the people who run it. It is being Barcaldine about as far in
distance and appearance as you can get.
The servo attendant said the caravan park in the show grounds was better
than the one almost across, so I go there but no sign of the office caretaker,
tents once you go through the gates. On
enquiring at the swimming pool nearby they volunteered the information that if
I went two blocks down the road, opposite the hospital, I might see a green
ford van that belonged to the caretaker.
If it wasn’t there he wasn’t either.
I said to myself screw that and went to the original one. On entering, voice from the window of the
house said that if I wanted a site for the night, anywhere behind the amenities
block and he would catch up with me later.
He hasn’t so far. The night life
at Barcaldine on Sunday, or any other night for that matter, was not such that
would keep you up till 4am. In fact I
couldn’t find anything to do to keep me up longer than 7.30pm. Monday, left at 6.30am. It had been cold enough to use the down
sleeping bag and on the bike long underwear and balaclava until Longreach. They were not used for the rest of the trip. Inland QLD and NT can get cold at night.
Lunchtime saw me
at Winton, the end of the railway line out from Rockhampton. One of the entertainments of this place is
the yearly crayfish derby held down the main streets. It must have been due as the seats were all
down the centre nature strip. There is
one very old store of note there worth going to if you like to step back in
history. It sells anything used in the
house. One side is groceries, one whole
wall 10 feet high with ladder. It has a
full length counter 4 feet deep and you tell them what you want, he writes it
all down, price alongside then gets it for you.
It is a relic from the shop before self service. Cloncurry, where you would least expect it,
has the latest bar code reader which tells you the item price and thanks you
for shopping there. The girls don’t even
face you to talk. Kynuna is the ½ way
mark between Winton and Cloncurry and here is the only dirt encountered. 83km is new and finished, 86 is dirt. 30km is almost finished. The old road is new clay which is impossible
after even 20 points of rain. From
Kyunno it is all sealed, the last 40km section being opened the day I was
there. Got to be lucky sometime.
Cloncurry to
Normanton is 400km. Bourke and Wills
roadhouse is 200km and is the Junction of the sealed road to Julia Creek on the
Flinders highway which is 240km away, the longest distance between petrol
stops. Family cal K for Cloncurry is a
roadhouse. Normanton is 76km from
Karumba which like Normanton is on the Norman River. To actually see the gulf you go another 6km
to Karumba Point which was the original Karumba where flying boats used to land
and refuel last war on the way to the islands.
Karumba exists solely because of the prawn fishing and fishing in the
gulf of Arafura Sea. It’s very hot as
mangroves on the opposite bank stop the breeze off the gulf. Very are a few Aboriginals there. Normanton has more of them than whites which
range as usual from the dregs all day drinkers to real nice people. Normanton is more of historical interest than
anything else and being remote is expensive.
A stubbie or can of cider $1.80.
The caravan park is very good with barbecues, swimming pool only $2.00 a
night. Normanton was planned to be a big
city and Main Street and some side streets have 30’ (again bugga metrics)
centre nature strips and room for 4 lanes of traffic each side of this. Normanton is 3400km from Melbourne the way I
went which was not quite the shortest.
Dubbo, Bourke, Cunnamulla Charleville, all sealed is the shortest.
Next to me in
the Normanton caravan park was a Swiss guy who had ridden his push bike all the
way except between Malaya and Darwin where he and arrived 4 weeks earlier, and
was on his way to cairns and later here and Tasmania. Think of that all you wimps who think 300km
is a long trip on the motor bike. He
does 100 to 160km per day. Ian Grafton
was a guy from Los Angeles who was riding his push bike from Cairns to
Melbourne. I remember a few years back a
couple who rode their motor bike to cairns, then put it on the train to
Brisbane as they thought the road was too rough. Weak as water; left Normanton 6.45 Friday and
up till Bourke and wills roadhouse counted 37 live kangaroos and wallabies
feeding at the roadside. On the 440km from
Normanton to Julia Creek, apart from the roadhouse not a house is to be seen
though some station houses are as close as 8km off the road. It would be 100% true to say outback there
would be an average of one dead kangaroo or wallaby for every 2km. That Friday saw me at Hughenden. Saturday it was Townsville and cairns. I still have three weeks leave after this,
but as cairns is like a milk run to me and more people are likely to go there
than outback, I will finish with just a few remarks.
It’s a great
experience although there are a lot of boring kms to cover, but you have to see
it to get the real experience. I could
not get over the improvement in outback roads in 5 years. While not up to our standard in Victoria,
considering the distance they are very good.
Lastly, you don’t need a big bike.
Anyone could have done what I did as quick or more so, on a 250cc. The only limit is less carrying capacity, so
get out and see our country while we are well enough off to afford it. Even one trip in a life time is a great
experience and educational. Finally the
bike; Changed oil at Hughenden and topped up coolant header tank at cairns,
that all
Lloyd Wissman CX 500.