13 bikes, 13 people

The ZXR wouldn’t start, and I had volunteered myself to collect the bikes from KBCP. I hate that. Move the car, out with the jumper leads, off with the pillion seat, rider seat, tool box. Crank, crank, crank one last time. Still doesn’t want to start. Fuel okay? Yep. Crank, crank, crank. Finally catches. Large plug gap no doubt the problem. I guess I will have to service the bike, or do something more serious.

Tulla Freeway, second exit, fuelled up at servo along side cops, arrive KBCP 1 minute late. Phew. Mick was there on his new ZX9 after his Sandown spill resulted in an unexpected and immediate upgrade. New rider Mark, Mick and I discussed options on getting out of the City and figured we would try the new Exhibition St extension. Never again. You can’t turn right onto it from Flinders St — so we did a dodgy U-turn and a left turn. Onto Batman Ave past the Tennis Centre and you are forced down Swan St — you can’t go straight ahead and onto the South Eastern Freeway, which was where we wanted to go. Another dodgy U-turn and left turn. Now we know. At least it was a beautiful sunny day, not a cloud in the sky.

We droned down the 45 km of freeway to Hallam, being passed by a number of riders, some of whom turned out to be joining us at Hallam. Better safe than sorry I figured. A member had been done on this stretch very recently. Only on the way home did I see where they hide — impossible to see. Ho-hum.

A dozen bikes, all big bore, all Japanese, apart from Geoff’s BM. Soon enough we all gathered together and Geoff outlined the day’s activities. Wayne declared himself rear rider and I gave him the emergency kit. Seeing I had collected the names I volunteered to do the write-up. Geoff figured I would know most of the roads anyway. (Ha!) I needed him to draw on the map at the end of the ride. It looked like he had colored in the map, we did that many roads. Loch was the designated first stop.

Pakenham via the Highway and then around and over the railway line, along the old, old, old route. It is still just as bumpy, but would an R1100GS feel the bumps? Hmm. Probably not. Normal back roads through Garfield, Bunyip and Longwarry (grouse Australian names aren’t they) before turning right for an interesting alternative route to Drouin. Lock that away in the memory bank for later use. Into Drouin and around the roundabout and south all the way down to Lang Lang. I have studiously avoided this road but after a lot of road works and at higher speeds it is very pleasant with fast, open bends and excellent visibility. Sought of an FJ1200 road.

At Lang Lang we turned left and headed for Nyora along this well worn route. I am always reminded of the dog one of our more illustrious former members, Gary Clifton, managed to run over along here - crunching his bike’s belly pan. I think he beat it to death with a stick in the end, and then had to explain it to the owners. This wasn’t long after he had run over a kangaroo and consequent smashed mudguard. I digress. From Nyora we didn’t cut down to Loch but continued on the seven kilometres to Poowong. Boy, have they improved this road. Even Wayne commented on how much he liked it. Then Poowong back to Loch — plenty of cow crossing signs, and plenty of slime on the road where cows had crossed. Yuk. I thought I would make some ground up on the CBR1100XX along this stretch, but nope. He was leaving me for dead in the straights.

Only 120 km, but people were looking for morning tea, fuel and the dunnies. It was right time to stop. Sam had disappeared along the route somewhere, hopefully to attend to home duties or shift work. Ken and son headed for home, but not before I secured a financial commitment from him, and he is now a fully fledged member. Similarly, I signed on Tim on the TL, who has barely missed a ride for the last couple of months.

Rhys let rip with one of his famous stories. It all happened quite innocently when I noticed that his third finger was heavily bandaged and I asked what happened. Rhys manufactures custom exhaust systems for cars, as well as services most makes of cars from his Fastfit factory in Dandenong. Last Thursday morning (Friday is normally his bad day) Rhys sent one of his helpers home with a heavy cold. Then he sent away an unannounced, unscheduled blow in (customer) because he was now short staffed. The scene is now set.

Rhys proceeded to service a couple of cars, and then started making an exhaust system for an exotic car. The mechanical cutter slipped, slicing off the end of his finger, just below the quick, leaving a smidge of nail. Luckily, it cut at an angle, missing the bone. As Rhys said, "Sometimes you look at a cut or gash, and it is white, and you think, yep, that’s gonna bleed bad." In this case, it skipped that bit and went straight to the gusher stage. Rhys, wishing to maintain his aloof, macho aura, didn’t call out to the remaining apprentice for help. Instead, he grabbed his finger with the other hand, in a feeble attempt to staunch the flow, blood spurting and dripping everywhere. He headed to the office and the medical cabinet. Sounds bad? It gets worse.

The medical cabinet requires two free hands to open. Soon enough Rhys had dripped blood all over the nearby computer. The roll of bandage was wrapped in clear plastic. More manual dexterity required. More blood. He managed to bandage up his finger, but there is still half a roll left. Looking for scissors, he spies a razor blade and proceeds to cut off the extra length. Alas, he slipped. Fourth finger has now a 1 inch slash, and has gone all white — you know — just before it bleeds profusely. Suffice to say, at this stage Rhys had most of us in stitches, tears rolling down my face. But wait, there’s more.

In walk the two well-to-do women customers to collect their cars after a service. They see blood and guts everywhere, and the word AIDS pops out on their foreheads, a la Linda Blair in the Exorcist. Somehow Rhys manages to take their money, watching wistfully as they walk out, probably never to return, taking a truck load of bad will with them. And what is that strange noise? Ralph! The apprentice has discovered the blood on the saw, and has been overcome with nausea and is throwing his guts up, and is in a pretty bad way. Rhys is forced to do the non-macho mother thing, and mop his brow. The kid is a mess, and finally blurts out that Rhys’s finger is on the saw. Thinking it is only blood, Rhys checks it out. But no, it is a decent sized fingertip staring him in the face. "Won’t be needing that," he decides, disgustedly, and flings the offending item bin-wards, with a resounding "ting". Apprentice Peter, witness to this little subplot, immediately resumes where he left off, throwing up again.

Later in the day Rhys is welding and the rod starts sticking. (Doctor? What for?) Thinking it is a bad earth he continues. Alas no, his 14-year-old, ever reliable, TIG welder had decided to call it quits. $2600 later he has a new one.

To sum up, Rhys lost a significant piece of finger, slashed another one, spilt blood everywhere, turned away a customer, sent another two packing, blew up his welder, lost $2600 in real money, lost a day’s work out of one worker, and didn’t get much out of the other. Not bad for a Thursday. Makes a top story though! I digress.

Heading west out of Loch I wondered where we were going. Four kilometres later we turned left for Kernot and the great, wide, sweeping roads around Grantville. It was at one of these intersections that Geoff put his foot down and in a hole, and subsequently toppled over. More pride hurt than anything else, and only the one witness.

Turning south-east we climbed away from the coast back up to the main Loch-Wonthaggi road picking up the scenic twisties until the road flattened and straightened out not far from Wonthaggi. Turning left and east we headed for Kongwak via Korrine with a loop up and back along the Kilcunda Road, and then around to Outtrim.

Geoff was in his element. We just followed blindly, the roads turning this way and that, some good, some bad. I remember one saucer shaped hump the size of a car that threw a few of us across the road. Speeds dropped dramatically as the road surface was now quite unpredictable. Finally we blasted into Korumburra on wide smooth road for late lunch having travelled a tough 103 km.

Wayne, getting the urge, swapped rear-riding position with Bruce for the next stint. We took the main Korumburra—Warragul Road, with all its variations from tank-slapping bumps to sensationally smooth sweepers for the next 34 km. Peeling off at Lardner towards Drouin, we headed south (and away from home) through Athalone, Poowong East and Poowong. A great stretch, the surfaces more consistent and predictable. At Poowong we headed for Nyora and Lang Lang and breakup, traversing the same "mountain" pass as in the morning, adding to the confidence level. Another fun 118 km.

After fuel and snacks, we bade each other farewell and went our separate ways. In my case, 99 km of South Eastern Freeway, Domain Tunnel, Bolte Bridge and Tullamarine Freeway saw me home by 5 pm. The odometer registered another 495 km for the day, the bike never missing a beat after the initial stubborness. Nothing that a new engine wouldn’t fix. Hmm.

Thanks Geoff for leading, Wayne and Bruce for rear riding, and Rhys for entertaining us at morning tea.

Ben Warden (Kawasaki ZXR750)