Nagambie – Goulburn Weir MKIII Monday 13^th June 2011

My little Honda has been performing so sweetly and the weather has been rather good so I’ve been accumulating a few kilometres on my bike, but I still miss my speed-Misho fix… so a deal was struck for the Queen’s Birthday Monday ride. Hmm, Tuesday morning now and my legs are feeling the side-effects from not having pillioned for a long time; but it’s a good kind of aching as it reminds me of the previous day’s fun.

Whenever Ben puts an extra day’s ride on a Monday public holiday, they somehow turn out to be a ‘seek and you shall find’ adventure. His geographical knowledge never ceases to amaze me… a dead-end or a ‘no entry’ sign is no deterrent for him… the show goes on, sometimes developing with even more ‘interesting’ routes due to the alternative courses taken, usually involving dirt or some sort of disused goat track.

Out of Whittlesea through the lovely Flowerdale sweepers, but not as swift as usual… we’re on the look-out for a possible reappearance of a TOGGY car which was on this road yesterday but was disinterested in pursuing us… must have been on a mission further on down the road. Eventually we get onto the isolated narrow winding roads of Pyalong where the countryside always reminds me of a giant’s playground abandoned in the midst of a game of marbles.

Our first stop is Seymour where the ‘hole in the wall’… “no, we don’t make cappuccino’s” hamburger joint delivers our order with military precision, and boys please pay attention when your number is being called next time (John Willis, Roman & others…) The woman gets rather cranky when there is no response. We linger here for a little while as it is our lunch time combined with our first break of the ride. Very pleasant here in the dappled sunlight, reading ‘The Sun’ newspaper with interesting commentaries supplied by Paul and Cliffy peering over my shoulders, together with some light banter about the previous night’s MotoGP. Time to head off before a ‘siesta-feeling’ starts taking over.

We head over towards Nagambie, but somehow we missed a turn and end up at Murchison… any further and the sign tells me we’re in Shepparton. Shepparton? Oh no, this name triggers some bad childhood memories… It used to take us just about a whole day when I was a kid to get there by car in the summer holidays to visit my uncle and aunty and their children who lived on a huge tomato farm. I disliked the whole thing from start to finish – what to do? I was raised in the city and found the heat, the flies, the dirt, the yucky toilet facilities, the boredom of nothing for me to do, a most unpleasant experience .

We go no further; u-turn, wrong direction… the search for the Goulburn Weir has us roaming about this country-side until the geo-master Ben locates it with the help of his sixth sense… an unassuming little dirt track leading to the Weir was completely unsignposted! I couldn’t believe how he had found it; you couldn’t even see it from the road.

Duane was most helpful with the mechanical explanation of the “gadgets” that control the opening and closing of the “doors” in the weir. It always surprises me what ‘hidden’ knowledge people have… But alas I cannot recall the correct terminology which was used… sorry Duane. I found it most informative at the time.

We head off for some more speedy roads on the way to Heathcote where Misho cannot resist Phil ‘teasing’ the “blade” with his “Busa” power… Ah! You boys just can’t resist a challenge. Oh no! I hold on tight and manage to squeeze a reading of #50. Phil ‘allegedly’ sighted #60 on his “Busa”. I can’t help wondering at what reading I will be unable to hold on. The problem is you’re using all your resources to hold on for dear life such that any form of communication is almost an impossibility under the circumstances. I just hope that if I ever happen to lose my grip, Misho will notice that I’m missing and come back looking for me… sooner rather than later.

Afternoon stop is at Heathcote where I embark on my search for a ‘good’ coffee; having already tried a couple of places here before. I ventured further down the street with Misho and Marc in pursuit when I finally “sniffed” out a lovely place with outside seating area. Mmm… good coffee was had and as we blah-blahed the time away, my instinct told me to get going. Yep, Ben was helmeting up, ready to leave us behind. That’s what happens when you stray from the pack. Next time, I’m dragging the lot of you with me, with the promise of a decent caffeine fix.

The home run from Heathcote to Lancefield was a good one. Rather exhilarating - the ‘yee-ha’ factor was being experienced much to Misho and my delight. Finally, we get home as darkness and coldness descends upon on us. We recall the day’s funny bits as we wash the Blade and realise that it has done almost 1,000km’s door to door over the last two days - no resting on these long weekends; back to work tired… but satisfied.

Thanks to Ben for another great day’s ride and for the ever-kindly Willem for rear-riding… so sorry for holding you up at times; your patience is greatly appreciated. And thanks to all my riding buddies who make it so much fun.

Pina Garasi