Snake Valley  MK II           Sunday 17th  May, 2009

Thinking back to today’s ride whilst sipping on my Pure Blonde beer, I had a really great time, but man, I’m tired now.  So much so that I’m kinda struggling with this article.  I could feel it towards the end while I was riding along, and I knew that I’d be feeling it even more tomorrow.  The new back protector digging in to the back of my neck didn’t help either.  Me thinks me may have to take it back and see if they’ll exchange it for an even smaller one.  The day started out with some promising wet roads and looming clouds, but alas, being unreliable Melbourne weather, the clouds parted and the sun soon came out.  If this doesn’t make sense, it’s because you need to go to the back of the magazine and read the last article on Tara Bulga first, and then come back to this one.  It will make more sense sequentially, trust me.

Now that you’ve finished the Tara Bulga article, here’s more newbie feedback, this time from Tim, who’d been riding various dirt and road bikes for about 20 years.  Tim really enjoyed the ride with the group today, and got to see some roads that he hadn’t been on before.  I think I might have heard him say that he’d definitely be back again … or maybe I imagined it just then because I’m so brain dead.  I guess we’ll soon see.  Oh, and if you’ve already read the Tara Bulga article and this still doesn’t make sense or there appear to be some untruths, it could well be because I’m too tired to be bothered to make it all make sense now.  Whatever possessed me to offer to write this one?  Lucky Mark’s doing one too.

Anyway, on with the article.  There seemed to be an unusual lot of locals and tourists out in the country today, either kicking the footy back and forth across the road we rode along, doing burn offs, herding sheep, walking their dogs, hitch hiking and just plain hiking, and riding bicycles and motorbikes.  I thought one family in particular, by the side of the road just before Creswick, were being rather friendly when the father waved, but found out later that he was actually motioning with his hand for us to slow down.  Wow, I’m tired.

I’m going to tell the next bit in points because it’ll require less brain activity.  Point 1:  We pulled over in Creswick.  I felt compelled to explain the wear and tear of my left hand handle grip because of everyone’s disbelief over the condition of it.  Point 2:  Ben and Paul debated how much it should be debated before we agreed on a setting for the clutch lever position.  Point 3:  I was still getting used to the new clutch lever setting and stalled it at the lights in Ballarat—how embarrassment!  Point 4:  Geoff’s going to see if he’s got a spare set of hand grips that aren’t quite as used as my current ones.

Now I’m going to skip huge bits and go straight to the dirt/clay road. I can’t even remember where it was.  Man, did I do some major, major, MAJOR whoopsies. By some stroke of luck, I didn’t end up lying beside my bike on the dirt and gravel. I slowed right down when I saw the clay road up ahead, but then when I was on it, I made the mistake of thinking that it was easy (because, at such a slow speed, it was) and sped up.  That was the first mistake.  Then I kept looking at the mounds of gravel by the side of the road and kept telling myself “Don’t go on it, whatever you do, do NOT go on it”, so what do I jolly well do?  Evidently, that was mistake number two, not intentional, of course.  No way was I going to apply the brakes while I wobbled insanely on the mound.  I’m sure it would have been extremely entertaining to watch from behind.  All I could do was ease off the acceleration and ride it out; curse everything I could possibly think of whilst trying to steer it back on to the flat surface without falling—I came pretty damn close—and not to mention, desperately trying to balance the bike at the same time.  If I hadn’t made it back on to the flat dirt surface when I did, it would have been lie down time for me and the 600. I couldn’t help thinking though, when I’d recovered and made it back onto nice grippy asphalt again, that I wouldn’t mind a bit more dirt and clay—just not mounds of it.

Belated point 5:  We readjusted my chain in Werribee.

I’m beat.  Thanks Geoff for the fabulous variations in the roads.  Mark, you are the grousest rear rider!  You sat so far behind me that you made me feel like I was going really fast  J  You’re the best!

I do believe I’ve done my duty and filled my quota for this month, so you won’t be reading anything from me for a little while—unless, of course, you didn’t read the Tara Bulga article first, in which case, that’ll be the next thing.

Ciao.

Ha Du

Editors note: Geoff Jones dropped off the promised handgrips and Ha and I fitted the clutch side grip using a trick Marty Thompson reminded me of: pump compressed air into the resisting grip to create a pocket of air allowing it to slide on easily. No messy lubricants or excessive force required. Seconds work. Brilliant.