Mirboo East, Grandridge Road            Sunday 14th November, 2010

 

Ben Warden

Honda CBR954

 

Cliff Peters (Lead)

Kawasaki ZX10R

Paul Southwell

Honda CBR1000

 

Jason Wilson (rear)

Kawasaki ZX9R

Misho Zrakic/Pina Garasi

Honda CBR1000

 

Geoff Shugg

Suzuki DL 650

John Willis

Honda XL1000

 

7 bikes/8 people

355kms

Unaccustomed as I am to public drivel, apparently all you blokes and blokettes will have to put up with my interpret a shun of the ride to Mirboo North due to the fact that I’m the bloke who took the three points and $239 fine that our editor should have copped at the end of the day on the highway. I was following said offender and got pulled over in his stead, and a certain culprit sailed off into the sunset!  And as loser of the day, the stuff up has also earned me this duty, to enhance the pleasure. Oh joy! Oh bliss! You owe me big time. I’ll get my own back; I’ve got some dirt I could serve up on days long past, when he was still wet behind the ears.  

I have actually done a few articles many moons ago, in this esteemed public a shun. About 12 years ago when I was riding with the Club in my previous incarnation with an even stronger Pommie accent, no doubt. Ben’s still extracting the michael out of my good self. Haven’t ridden for 10 years, so as you might imagine, every day on a bike is like Christmas Day at the moment. I’m just starting to get back into the groove. The back’s more knackered, hence the Honda Varadero (the flying armchair) has replaced the Suzuki TL. I still love that V twin power delivery.

You’ll have to wait a mo now as my pizza has arrived.

Right toe then, if that was dinner, I’ve had it. Now on to the serious type stuff.

I arrived at the last minute at Berwick from Lilydale and by the time I’d filled up Cliff was into the orders for the day. Everyone had their wets on apart from yours truly. It had thrown it down big time Friday night and all day Saturday but I was living in hope of dry roads. If I can get away without the full body condom, then I’m happy. 

We were off down the highway on the transit run to God’s own country, Gippsland. Where were you all? Early on in the day we hardly needed the Corner Marking System as we remained in view of each other from leader to tail end Charlie (I mean tail end Jason.) The Magnificent Seven. Sorry Pina; I meant 7 bikes, 8 punters, and one pillion.   The roads were dry with the odd wet patch under overhanging trees, and just enough small patches of gravel to make life interesting, washed over the road from the previous couple of day’s torrential precipita shun. 

The clouds looked threatening, on occasion, but we were in luck. NO rain all day; not a spit. By mid arvo complaints were heard about over-heating bods wishing they had their leathers on instead of the fully lined wet gear.

As we arrived at our first stop at Loch for smoko, another group of motorcycling type peeps were just leaving. Perfect timing. Well organised Cliff. The focaccia was triffic and the company better.

It’s nice to ride with a small group sometimes. Not better, just different to a big mob. A bit more personal, if you know what I mean.

Any road, off we set like cut cats through some of the good stuff, leading onto the better stuff, and then a couple of kays of dirt thrown in specially to test out the anti-lock brakes on the steed. They work real good; worth every cent I reckon. “If it only saves you once a year it’s a good year”, as the tyre ad says.

Whilst following Cliff and Misho a car coming the other way flashed us, the boys in blue lurking, not far ahead. I was just about to stop and turn around to flash the rest of our team when it was corner marking time. Saved again, me thinks.

If you’re starting to realise that there are few specific mentions of places in this article, then you have seen right through me. Not hard to do I can assure you. You lead and I will follow. Although I used to lead a few rides way back when, it might all come back to me eventually if dementia doesn’t get me first.  I could just list off the towns from the itinerary but you can just read them yourselves. But we had a lunch at Mirboo North as was promised, where Pina commented on the amount of food I had eaten at our two stops. I take sandwiches each day to work and I’m not doing it on the weekend, so I indulge myself.

Mention was made about the last Formula One GP tonight, starting on TV at midnight. Too late for me.  By the time you read this you will know if we have an Aussie world champeen again. Mr. Webber we hope.

Grand Ridge Road always sticks in your mind, and today was no exception. To the end of the bitumen and back including sections of road under the trees with lots of leaf litter, sticks and debris to test us out. The obligatory photos were taken, and visors cleaned, then back into it. The day was warming up by the minute, humid rather than hot. Glad I had the vents open on the lid and Tiger Angels.

Everyone was on a very similar pace all day, pretty swift, making for the enjoyment of hardly waiting on corners. The day became a blur of endless corners, sweepers, hairpins, and bliss, nay nirvana [he’s croaked it long ago] was experienced by all.

I was starting to realise the machine seemed to be lacking a bit of grunt up top. Ben managed to force his way past Paul on one particular horn section of twisties, but try as I might I just didn’t have the grunt. I must be about 50% down on neddies anyway. Paul couldn’t lose me but I was not going to get by on this section.

Later on I realised the last maybe 15% of my throttle movement was severely restricted by the wiring of the heated hand grips not allowing full rotation. An easy fix to refit the cable ties. Much better than my first thought of I’ve caned this bike so much in it’s first 6,000k I’ve knackered sumink.

 At the Trafalgar stop Geoff Shugg had a sit on the Varadero and commented on the fact it’s quite a bit taller than his V-Strom, I’m enjoying the Pirelli Skorpion tyres Geoff recommended. I only got 5,000 kays out of the original Bridgestone rear, destroyed, but it did have ten years worth of missed rides taken out on it.

I wasn’t going to be on the ride today. Instead I should have been taking part in my other passion for the weekend, flying radio controlled aircraft away up state. But I bailed out due to the rain. Seven hours driving up and back and not a sorty flown, a few bevvies sunk and bullshit spun. Glad it worked out that way in the end, apart from copping someone else’s points and fine. I really enjoyed your company, people. Thanks for the day.

Well I can’t stand tapping on these keys any more, you lot. Give me a shovel any day. Good job it’s each to his own, hey? Academic I’m not. Maybe I’ve done an appalling enough job to be over looked next time. One can live in hope. (I’ve pencilled you in for an article a month - for the rest of your life …Ed.)

355 kays for the day.

 

P.S. I’ve found some way old photos of eons ago and I swear Craig Morley is still wearing the same pair of boots. Come to think of it, Ben’s leathers look somehow strangely familiar, you old cheapskate. Or should that be astute purchaser?  (Yes, they are the same! They are just back from the local bootmakers, getting a new ankle zip installed and a smidge of restitching - $45 total. The address is Gregory’s Bag & Shoe Repairs, 6 Leake St North Essendon. Ring Joe on 9379 6137 …Ed.)

 

John Willis