Mt Buninyong Fire Tower Sunday 23^rd November, 2008

Bruce Fleming	Suzuki GSXR1000	Misho Zrakic	Honda CBR1000
Ron Johnston	Suzuki GSF1200	Paul Southwell	Honda CBR1000
Cameron Stevens	Yamaha FZ6	Ben Warden	Honda CBR954
Geoff Jones (leader)	Yamaha R1	Cliff Peters	Kawasaki ZX10
Pina Garasi (rear)	Yamaha R6	Henry Wright	Triumph 675 naked

Sunday’s weather was not much different from Saturday; the sky looked dark grey and… well to me, full of water. The question was: to get up, or not to? It only took one tiny trace of sun to solve the dilemma. There is nothing worse than spending the Sunday in miserable regret, watching your “Blade in the Shade” and thinking how much fun your Club mates are having while you’re getting sunburnt.

The looks of the fellow motorists in their enclosed vehicles made me feel a bit silly. It was only arriving at the meeting point at the Caltex Petrol Station in Whittlesea that gave me a slight sense of relief. Seeing other MSR members, realising there is nothing wrong with me. I’m okay. I’m normal. Hmm. Unless they are nuts too?

Our ride leader, Geoff Jones, reassured us that the predicted rain was heading towards the east and we would be going west. Whatever happens, happens. I didn’t think any of us would be going back home. All excited, especially about my tight, new RST non-squattable leather pants… they leave me breathless. I rolled my bike to vacate the petrol pump as I had topped up (only $3 worth). Chit-chatting, chit-chatting, I forgot the painful part of fuelling up. It was only when the petrol-shop guy came out and started harassing my mates that it occurred to me that I hadn’t paid. Well, nobody’s perfect.

It was great to see Henry with a brand new Triumph. He has just completed his learner restrictions; the bike having done only a few hundred kilometres prior to coming for a ‘real’ ride. Now that’s spirit.

We headed off an unusual way which I thought only known to Geoff. I wondered “Where the hell is he learning all these backyard shortcuts? Does he eat the Melway’s pages for breakfast or what?”

Corners right away; overwhelmingly. I was starting to get into the groove only to realise that my magnetic tank bag (sting-ray shaped) was behaving like the real thing: floating left, right, backwards and forwards. I felt a bit silly again. “I’m not taking you for a ride again, Ray”. Now having a new and unexpected distraction, I had to find a way to deal with it. I’m not compromising my joy just because of a little ‘gremlin’ on board. I gave it a slap across its head, re-positioning it in its place every now and then… and away we went.

Wearing wet-weather things over the leathers, I felt quite warm, so I thought that the cold breeze across my back was a bit unusual. Oh… that’s my new tight, non-squattable RST leather pants sliding off my backside. And, it’s not an adrenalin rush that makes my breath short; the pants are cutting into my abdomen as I try to stay leaned forward. Of course, keeping my feet on the foot pegs with squatted knees only adds to the difficulty. It felt as if I would spring into a back flip if I let go of the handle bars.

We’re approaching some seriously nice winding bits and an urge is evolving in my right wrist. I am aware that the road is covered with unusually fine gravel. How did I know about it? There’s no trick to it. If you have someone like Ron Johnston on the mighty Bandit in front of you, gravel becomes very obvious; it appears in the shape of a rooster tail - I could even tell its structure. Obviously Ron already knew about it because “You can trick the sheep, but you can’t trick the wolf”.

My bike was quite stable; Ray now tank-centred. But my wrist was quite ‘itchy’ and I was thinking “Argh, come on Ronnie, you’re being over-cautious; let’s give these corners some tyre rub”. Cutting across a chicane, I dived into a pile of scooped gravel (I swear I could hear the sheep ‘bleeeaah’)… You’re guessing it, I stuffed up, feeling a bit silly again.

Coming into Trentham, the road straightened up a bit and our pace picked up. Travelling at the higher speed, oscillations in the road affected my breathing. Having a 180 instead of 190 rear tyre wasn’t helping either, combined with what Pina would call ‘vertical brain centrifuge’.

I suddenly experienced a hit in my chest and a blackbird-like thing flew away towards my right. Confused for a split second, I almost started laughing. Imagine how it looks hitting a bird which flies in your way – only in my case, it was in reverse: hit first, then it flew away. Looking at the ‘mysterious’ black thing in my mirror, I concluded that ‘Ray had left the vehicle’. Seeing Ray tumble down the road into the path of oncoming traffic, I remembered that the damned bag contained my mobile phone, camera, Mr Sheen, my holy smokes and my precious lighter. Even if some items survived the landing, any oncoming ‘Toorak tractors’ would definitely have put an end to them. Thanks, Cameron, who saw the whole episode and kept cars away while I retrieved the ‘fugitive’.

The usual bakery wasn’t my choice; I felt like a coffee. Pina and I chose a small shop across the road – the smell of coffee beans and the whole groovy setup decorated with funky handicrafts, seemed promising. Once again, it was not my day. The coffee was yuckyful, despite the Carlton barista. No wonder he ended up in Trentham. He reeled us in.

Due to my geographically-challenged perspective, I won’t be bothering you much with any further ride details. Although I have to say the roads chosen by Geoff were interesting - quite different from what we usually do. Coming to the end of the ride you realise how much fun we had with Geoff leading – interesting roads, hardly any cars, and no police. Thanks to Geoff for leading and to all who participated.

Misho Zrakic

Route as supplied by Ben: Leg 1: Whittlesea, Wallan, Daraweit Guim (fast silver 4WD sitting on 150), Romsey, Mt Macedon, Woodend, Trentham. Leg 2: Trentham, Blackwood, Greendale, Ballan, Mt Buninyong Fire Tower, Buninyong (fuel, lunch) Leg 3: Buninyong, Mt Mercer, Meredith, Brisbane Ranges to Maude (where we did U turn and back to Anakie turnoff, used to be dirt until just recently), Anakie, Werribee. 390 km, cold, then warm, 18 deg.