Nagambie Sunday 1^st July, 2007

Ian Payne (leader)	Honda CBR1000	Cameron Stevens	Suzuki GSXR1000
Paul Southwell	Honda CBR1000	James Melford	Suzuki GSXR750
Ben Warden	Honda CBR954	Misho Zrakic	Suzuki GSXR750
Les Leahy	Kawasaki GPx250	Dave Ward (rear rider)	Suzuki GSXR600

I thought I had to fuel up at Yarra Glen (53 km from home) but soon realised I had enough to reach not only Yarra Glen, but the first stop. Consequently, I arrived 15 minutes early and first. The forecast wasn’t good with showers predicted in the afternoon or early evening. Surprisingly, the weather was quite balmy first thing in the morning with a north wind blowing but seemed to get progressively cooler as the day progressed and the cloud cover became complete.

Ian was leading and arrived early with Dave, the pair all in black. Ian is suffering from a balance problem, the crystals in his ear having dislodged at the time of his crash, some 5 years ago. Vertigo flares up occasionally. “Particularly noticeable in right hand corners”, according to Ian. His physio is performing some sort of head movement, trying to restore the crystals to their proper position. It is a well known medical condition, though Ian was sceptical until he googled it.

Just as we were about to leave Paul arrives, his first club ride in three weeks. It seems he does the washing Sunday mornings, before the ride, and time gets away. He missed the ride route spiel while filling up. Dave volunteered to rear ride, and we set off, only to wait for Paul at the first corner. There were more cars than usual on the Christmas Hills Road, and despite Paul going like a cut cat trying to make up for lost time, it didn’t do the rest of us any good.

Right turn at the antiques shop and up the tight twisties to Panton Hill. There are new road widening works near St Andrews pub and not all the gravel has washed away by the recent heavy rains. Ian was riding well, despite his insistence that people pass at anytime they felt inclined. There was no-one in our mirrors, the wet and dry road surface keeping Cameron in conservative mode.

Left at Kinglake saw us entering smog – a combination of wood smoke and fog. But it disappeared as quickly as it appeared as we climbed steeply into the freezing high country. On to Kinglake West and Flowerdale, watching for the shiny, slimy patches, feeling out the tyre grip, now all riding nose to tail. Misho was waiting at Kinglake West, having mistakenly thought Whittlesea was the start point. A quick call to Captain Trevor saw him waiting and worrying he had missed us.

Left at Flowerdale and on to Strath Creek, the road mainly dry, the speeds rising an octave or two. Left again at Strath Creek and on to Broadford, the steep uphill twisties wet and looking more treacherous than they were. Regroup at the Broadford Bakery while a few of us refuelled. The Phantom, Les Leahy, magically appeared, swelling our numbers from the original six to a healthy eight. I finally caught up with Paul and handed over a spare tyre reaming tool to compliment the crochet hook tyre plug inserter I gave him a month ago along with 6 plugs. Punctures seem to be a feature of our rides lately and having another complete kit with a regular rider is a good service to provide.

I squeezed off a few photos outside the Bakery, one of which will become the front cover of this month’s magazine after Peter Feistl casts his magic wand over it, putting smiles on the dials, removing the extraneous junk, etc. Then it was off to Nagambie, some 69 km away.

A look at the dead centre of town in Broadford and then on to Glenaroua before picking up the Seymour Road. Les was only three minutes behind after 33 km, so he must have been thrashing along. On the outskirts of Seymour just past the freeway we turned left and north following the Goulburn River. It is quite twisty with some up and down, blind corners and variable speed. Ian and I recalled someone crashing along here a long time ago, but not sure exactly who, possibly Garry Clifton on his CBR1000F1. That is the trouble riding for too long – everywhere you go becomes a list of “red spots” as Paul noted later. So and so crashed on this corner, I crashed on that.

The country is now extraordinarily green, the grass thick, the cows plentiful and contented. What a change compared to a couple of months ago, the drought, if not technically broken, certainly visibly so.

Chateau Tahbilk hove into view across the way, its distinctive coned roof visible across the paddocks. Ian stopped to confer with Dave who indicated we were on the right back road, which soon turned to a very well groomed gravel covered road. Speeds dropped commensurately, the steering gently oscillating if pushed, reminding me of the sandy dirt roads in far north Queensland.

Julian, the site manger met us in the carpark on his 1975, red 750 MV Augusta four cylinder shaft drive looking very desirable: gear driven valve actuation most obvious at a glance. We headed off to the Cellar Door sales area and wandered around the 1860 heritage declared buildings. It is a fabulous complex, with a labyrinth of tunnels (sorry, wine cellars), lots of old machinery, buildings, and of course, vineyards, all leafless at the moment. What immediately struck me was how low the grape vines were groomed, no more than a metre off the ground. It compared dramatically with the Red Hill vines that were at least 2 metres high.

Coffee was taken at the restaurant along with another 50-70 people in the superbly presented cafeteria overlooking the magnificent Goulburn River wetlands, complete with jetty, at which a passenger boat docked some time later. I thought Julie would have loved to kayak around these waters – lots of lagoons and birdlife and redgums. The complex is picture perfect, incredibly well signposted, well maintained and clearly world class. Hence the large patronage.

Les and I, fossicking amongst the old machinery, joined the cashier queue late, and assumed lunch was the next item on the agenda. The others had only ordered coffees, but when our Mediterranean vegetables in a French roll and focaccias arrived, relatively quickly, appetites were whetted, and orders placed. Julian joined us for more bike conversations, Dave having made his acquaintance at various ride days.

Paul took his leave at this point, heading home to watch the footy with a mate in the local pub. Collingwood was playing Hawthorn at the Dome in what was expected to be a record crowd. Hawthorn won in a brilliant game, the crowd 50,000, a few thousand short of the record.

Meanwhile we headed back to Nagambie for fuel. Cameron bumped over the curb and scraped his sump and exhaust system. Cameron found himself with one wheel either side of the curb. Les assisted him to ride over it by lifting the back of the bike via the rack. Then Cameron and I got down on our hands and knees to check out the damage: scraped sump and exhaust pipes. Minor cosmetic, as they say.

Now all fuelled up we headed the 53 km to Heathcote and the 14 km to Tooborac. The cold became colder and the wet wetter. Ian and I waited for 20 minutes at Tooborac before I headed back. Five kilometres up the road I met the troupe. It turns out Cameron had sustained a double puncture due to a staple, 2 km out of Nagambie. His new plugs and pump were put to the test. The pump failed. Luckily Les just happened to have one okky-strapped to the back of his GPx. Les remained with Cameron as he rode at 80 km/h while Dave came through picking up the corner markers at Heathcote. We regrouped at Tooborac, and given the cold, dark and miserably wet weather, decided to head due south to Lancefield, Bulla and the Calder and call it quits. We travelled in convoy until Bulla servo at which point I bade my farewells and continued on home, less than 20 km away.

I arrived home at 4.30 pm with 401 km on the odometer, making about 330 official ride kilometres. Later that evening I rang Cameron to confirm he made it home okay. His tyre is now a wad of plugs and may be difficult to get repaired by a bike shop. A new tyre is in the offing.

Thanks to Ian for leading under trying personal circumstances, and for Dave doing the reconnoitre work. It was a great day – for most of us.

Ben Warden