I managed to put the second pick-up as Hallam in the magazine and Yarra Glen on the itinerary. Ho-hum. Ian pointed this out Sunday night, along with the news that Nick Casemore was unable to lead this ride, or find anyone else to lead, due to work commitments. Between us we decided I would collect the riders from KBCP and Ian would collect riders from Hallam and we would all meet at Healesville at 11.15 am. Note: Darren Hosking also picked up the anomaly and informed me Saturday.

It was a good plan, but there were no riders at either of the two pick-ups, just Geoff Barton (R1100GS) and Patrick Davey (ZX6) at Yarra Glen. Something to do with the drizzly rain and bad weather forecast I presume, and this time very accurate. The fact that Patrick lives in Ballarat and Geoff in Loch says something about the commitment of these two blokes, or that they should be committed.

I made my way from KBCP out the Eastern Freeway to Warrandyte and Christmas Hills to Yarra Glen. Through Warrandyte it was bucketing down and soon I was cold and wet. At least the bike was shod with a set of near new tyres and front brake pads, was steering well, and felt good.

Patrick, Geoff and I dawdled off up the highway to Mt Slide. I followed a car doing going quite fast, considering the rainy and cold conditions. Suited me. We took the turnoff to Toolangi and then down the Chum Creek Road to Healesville. The road was in excellent condition considering the high winds we had had in the past week, with no leaf litter. Waiting at the turnoff in Healesville, the heaven’s opened again, and I sat in a torrential downpour. Mind you I was already soaked through, my blue DriRider sponge seeing its last outing. And I was using a pair of grotty old gloves, having left last week’s gloves to dry out somewhere. I gave them a good squeeze out at each stop.

We took shelter in the corner café near the central toilet block, hoeing into hot pies, cakes and pastries. Eventually a bedraggled Ian arrived, and not wishing to disgorge himself from his full body condom, we made tracks. We blasted up the Chußm Creek Road again, doing battle with a bunch of cyclists, the occasional one taking up all of the road, incurring the wrath of my squeaky, pathetic horn. Patrick (the prodigal son – lost last week) hung on for a while, but standard tyres, those cyclists, or fear of dying eventually broke the elastic. This was probably the best road of the day, on reflection. Even Ian noted that it was in good condition. Mind you it was still raining.

At the big Kinglake turnoff after Toolangi I turned right and headed up the Highway, in search of blue sky. I couldn’t see Kinglake producing fine weather, and more likely rain, hail fog or snow. Alas, the plan failed. It continued to rain steadily. At Glenburn we turned west and headed for Flowerdale, and then Strath Creek. Right on cue Patrick hit the big pimple and suffered his first major tank slapper. He’ll remember that corner. On to Broadford and lunch. Plenty of horse floats to pass.

I tried on Pat’s top-of-the-line Rivet jacket. My armour fitted underneath. Peter Steven’s here I come. (My blue sponge was looking even more tattier than usual after I chucked the Dominator down the road on the way to work last Monday morning. (An old bloke faked a right hand turn in front of me at an intersection, downhill, in the wet, knobby tires.) Walked away. Bike okay.) Ian’s cheap gloves were still dry and I might have to invest in a pair of those too!

Heavy showers were still coming through so we decided to call it quits and head for Whittlesea and breakup. Home by 2.30 pm, hot shower and time to write this article. My fingers still ache from the cold. At least I didn’t need to fill up all day – 290 km from the tank so far. I expect perfect weather for Adelaide

Ben Warden (Kawasaki ZXR750)