Have a good ride guys 
Wish i could have made it

klompy the grey brick wrote:
https://goo.gl/maps/V7cKKjuJfK12     Windsor to Guyra straight up leaving Wilberforce 0800- NLT 830

We'll be on the road a little earlier Klompy. Brekky at Grey Gum a bit after 7 is our aim. Travelling with the mutts forces regular exercise breaks any way. Will see you up the road somewhere

Al

For us Northerners,

Cunningham Gap Road closures

The Department of Transport has issued an alert regarding road closures at Cunninghams Gap from 7am-9am and 1pm-3pm from November 5 until November 10.
Cunninghams Gap will be closed to all traffic during these times, but travellers have been told to expect delays of up to 10 minutes during active hours of transport.

Roundabout Construction southern end of Stanthorpe Bypass

20 Aug 2018 to 31 Jan 2019

Monday to Friday, 7 AM to 5 PM All lanes affected All directions
What to expect
Delays expected (during active hours)
Reduced speed limit (40km/h)



Silverdale
Cunningham Highway
Road restoration works following Severe Tropical Cyclone Debbie in 2017
1 Oct 2018 to 20 Dec 2018

Monday to Friday, 6 AM to 6 PM Lane or lanes reduced Both directions
What to expect
Delays expected (during active hours)

Thanks for that.  I don't expect to be through there before 10:00am, so hopefully cleared by then.

about to be off … a really big Adventure awaits on the New England Tablelands

thanks for the heads up Andrew

Smurfette is packed , fuelled and ready to roll .
Like you Charlie , I have some Aldi gear awaiting a maiden trip , hope it holds up to this weekends weather. 
Ride safe one and all. Will see you on Saturday .

Good trip, great company. Paul and I are home. One thing that has been discovered, a K runs well without a fuel filter. Thanks to the army who helped with the three unplanned road side issues. For those who want to know I did give Al's watch back to him.

Please explain 
Smithy is doubling Mr Klompy



A huge thanks to the Smithy clan for once again putting on such a wonderful weekend , and to the many krew who provided such great kompany .

A most awesome weekend away with the Krew , once all the battery issues were sorted.

No pics here.  From leaving home Fri morning till arriving home was 1700km+  Feeling just a little knackered at the moment.

Thanks for a great time, special thanks for Smithy and Kate for putting up with us lot.  Thanks to Stan for finally giving my watch back.  Thanks to Ed for diagnosing all those battery faults over the weekend.  

My tank connector had a couple of episodes on the way home, stopping at Aberdeen the last time.

Cant wait till next time.

Al

Just wanted to thank Smithy and Kay for a great weekend. These events require a whole lot of planning and organising and we are all very fortunate to have a couple like them who are willing to do it.

Terrific company around the fire and on the road all weekend.

Very curious to hear how the Klompy recovery plan turned out and glad to see that Stan was able to run downhill all the way home without further troubles.

Cheers

Many,many thanks to Kay, Smithy, Kay and Warren for organising this year's run. A very enjoyable weekend especially the times around the fires. My good mate Jacko really enjoyed the weekend and could not help but comment " what a great motley crew of blokes"
Arrived home about 4 ish after about 1500k's of travel.
Thanks again
Cheers
Tom

Agreed, a good run down the coast and back and good company. Thanks Smithy.

Wholeheartedly agree with the above. Heaps of thanks to K1, K2, Craig & Warren for the efforts. Great to see Stan and Paul again, and the others of course! Got home v.v.tired at about 16:00, also after about 1500Km.

Slept like a log from about 19:30, all part of getting old, I guess. This living in the Seventies certainly has got whiskers on it! Although, already looking forward to the next ride.

Must admit, since TWB mentioned in another post that the Mitta Mitta road from Tallangatta to Omeo is now sealed all the way, it's well and truly on the bucket list. The Empire pub at Tallangatta is nice and motorcycle friendly. Would probably need 5 days, 4 nights for the jaunt. (2 days to get there, 1 day to do the loop (Omeo, Mt Hotham, Mt Beauty back to Tallangatta, or up to Falls Creek, down to Anglers rest, left back up to Mitta and Tallangatta) and then 2 days home. Wouldn't want to do it in the winter...

Rickmeister.

(P.S. This rum and whisky and bourbon stuff also has got whiskers on it.... Beer!!)

AL-58 wrote:My tank connector had a couple of episodes on the way home, stopping at Aberdeen the last time.

Cant wait till next time.

Al

Gee Al, I didn't realise you were having that much fun with the tank connector problem that you are looking forward to it happening again.



Cheers

Thanks to Smithy and Kay for putting on another excellent ride and all around good time! It's a good ride down to the coast and back via the Grafton and Glen Innes loop, with  something for everyone. Sadly, I managed to lose one of my memory cards during my travels and so only have about half the photos and video footage I otherwise would have had. I cobbled together some stills of the day in general as well as some video footage, mainly short excerpts of the ride up the hill into the Gibraltar range where the obviously completely nutty ever intrepid Ed kept me kompany on the way up the hill on a day when the doggos stayed at home. Ne jute Kameradschaft isses. :-)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5yEq2XC9qlw

Thanks for the vid, boy I'm jonesing for a ride!

Just a quick line to echo all the other grateful sentiments and express my huge thanks to Smithy and the lovely Kay for hosting and organising such a cracking gathering. Also a massive thanks to Stan and Jayne for the loan of "Jaffa" his orange 100RT which (unlike his steed) ran smoothly throughout many wonderful km of fabulous Aussie countryside and for allowing me to stay at their lovely place for the days either side of the meet down at the seaside.

The weather throughout was perfect for riding and I have had an absolute blast. Pity it was only a week (including 2 days travelling here and back), but wow! - what a week. Sadly, I must start dragging my butt back to winter in the UK today.

Great to meet old friends and new...ride report to come in due course when I have worked out where I've been and sifted thorough the many photographs and 160GBytes of video footage. Stand by for a lengthy, epic tale.

Cheers guys for making me feel so welcome in a land far, far away.

Looks like you had a great time, Is that a smoking K at 1:38 in the video ?

Looks as though a good time was had by all. 
Like Gaz, I'm curious  to know how the mobile mechanics got on with Klompy's repair. Hope all is well and I would also like to point out to see Ed ( aka mallet man) brandishing the mallet in Seani's sidecar. Please explain.....

A belated thanks to Craig and Kay great to catch up with everyone - a selection of pics from the week end 

great pics Warren

was a good run up the Gibraltar range , from Grafton eh?

just home now , update later

It was a great run up - it did start a bit Smokey see me tailing you at 1:38 in Shawnies film ....

Tom FKR wrote:Looks as though a good time was had by all. 
Like Gaz, I'm curious  to know how the mobile mechanics got on with Klompy's repair. Hope all is well and I would also like to point out to see Ed ( aka mallet man) brandishing the mallet in Seani's sidecar. Please explain.....

All battery problems are fixed with a mallet.

Tom, it was all going well until Ed started whacking me on the knee with it like it was the last race at Randwick...

Warren C it looks like you're in inner west Sydney?
Sean

A great 2 days on the road with the Krew . 

It was an early start leaving Newcastle at 3.30am on Saturday morning . The objective was to meet the krew at Sealy Lookout at around midday .
The east coast Pacific motorway now bypasses most of the townships once requented by holiday and commercial traffic . 
that wasn't deterring me from taking some detours alongf the way , as I meandered up to Coffs Harbour to join the krew for this annual ride.
All things K ... Kew , why not.


Having just passed a K105 road sign , I was keeping my eyes peeled for the next ...



But wait , theres more...  the thought did cross my mind to grab a momento for Paul .... sorry mate .


3hrs on the road it was time for a break . 





Koalas , the native Australian bear.



another 10 mins down the road , it was brekky time . 
Bacon and egg burger from the local Marine Rescue group , at the saturday morning markets on this pristine waterfront.
Splendid views.



Returning back through Jerseyville on the Manning River . So peaceful in the early morning.


arrived at Coffs Harbour around 10.30, not far to the lookout and the krew now . 



Krew assembling at Sealy Lookout at 11.30.







Our lunch stop ... the Idle In Cafe at Nana Glen .
Proved to be more than just a rest break for some .


not sure what this pair are up to . Mr Klompy and Smithy.


the view from the monkey seat ... Seanii's chair . 
Video is rolling as we climb the Gibralter Range. 
I was hoping to venture this section on Smurfette , maybe next time .

The weather remained clear for the usually monsoonal season .



Kruising the New England .


hard to believe we are still in drought , with such green surroundings .


Whats up fellas?  Warren C , Seanii and Stan ( with his head in the fuel tank.
  

Stan attending to minor battery issues. Re-enforcements (Al and Marie ) arriving to assist.


Warren C on the move again as the day lengthens and the cooler environs bring us closer to Guyra and Smithy's.


Deploying the "Aldi" airbag .


Charlie takes a moment to prepare for Remembrance Day ....  11th hour of the 11 day  LEST WE FORGET.

the ensemble of Krew who shared in yet another fabulous Northern Tablelands ride .
Happy 10th Anniversary to Bert and all on this forum .


On Rickmeisters advice , we made a slight detour in Walcha , to this Steampunk themed cafe . The artist , Mark Walker outside .




"Ned Kelly " inspired design.




Some of the krew including Paul rolled southwards towards Gloucester for lunch , stopping in at Carsons Lookout along the way .


Roadies cafe in Gloucester for lunch , leaving Paul to continue on to Stans place at Old Bar ( Taree). , Tom and Dave beelined for Newcastle , Gaz and I parted Kompany at Stroud . A very enjoyable 2 days , and 1300km for me . 
It all seemed logical that Battery issues were running rampant amonst the krew , as I too had problems leading up to this ride  . 
I recently encountered failing ignition , and engine cut outs these past few weeks. The dash lights only coming on when the bike rested on the side stand . 
I degreased the sidestand switch , and it showed some promise . However this was not the fix needed . I found the battery to be slightly loose in the tray , and it was arcing on the engine / frame . With some proper securing , there were no further "battery issues " for me . Mind you , others may have been encountering similar problems . 
Good to hear all made it home safe .

Ed wrote:Please explain 
Smithy is doubling Mr Klompy



A huge thanks to the Smithy clan for once again putting on such a wonderful weekend , and to the many krew who provided such great kompany .

A combined effort from Charlie, Klompy and myself saw klompy on his way in no time, well after some Anzac biscuits and a beer.
The UJ had let go, so we swapped in another shaft and FD for now.

Glad to hear Mr Klompy got going again with relatively little trouble.

Can the shaft be saved with a new UJ? Any collateral damage?

Cheers

its toast gaz

the eyelets that retain the uj  on the shaft side have distorted  and been mashed by the collision of the two pieces against each other

there is  definitely roller bearing impressions in the base metalwork of the uj core shafts

someone will have a pic im sure ...but the shaft is at smthys

the splines still look in near new condition ...for age

I have solved my "battery"problems. How often do we change our internal fuel lines? I have been slack and not touched the basic's lines in the 19 years of ownership.

Replaced it with a 3r10 rated hose from local Bursons....took less than 24 hours to source.The other issue is that the clamps come in different sizes, 13 to 15 and 12 to 14mm and this could explain why a fully tightened clamp may not hold a slightly soft hose.

good to hear stan ,

was great to meet Paul , so thankyou from us all for providing him the chance to ride with us , and the many things involved along the way.

cheers mate

Whilst at Smithy's , I thought I would share my new aquisition with the Krew. 
An Aldi Air Lounger. 
 The only success I had was to have the Krew rolling off their camp chairs in laughter. This "How to Video " sums it up very well. 

Temporary Hillbilly ...

So thats what it was.....someone told me it was a condom.

Having just passed a K105 road sign , I was keeping my eyes peeled for the next ...

I almost appropriated a sign like that 100kms from Katherine back on '02.  It was a quiet road and ...


Al

Well thanks again to our hosts from Haus Smithy for organising a great weekend and for Saxon for scaring the crap out of us with his kangaroo avoidance skills.  Geesus, I nearly spilled my drink!  

Thanks to Paul for making the effort to attend.  It was a pleasure to catch up as he hosted me at his house in the UK back in June.  

A handful of random photos from the weekend:



Tail end Charlie.  The road into Dorrigo.  



Griffiths Lookout. Not sure what is going on here.  



East meets West or is that North versus South?  



Boundary Creek Picnic Area.  K bikes in their natural (Australian) environment.  



The long trek home.  A typical lay by stop on the New England Highway.  

Like most it was a round trip of around 1,500km and I enjoyed catching up with a few I had not seen for a while.  Till next time.

some good pics Dave

was a hoot with that big group eh ?   giggles

loved the way you took off down the waterfalls mate ...following close behind was a blast

cheers mate

just to add some things I observed ...along the way

early morning start up before heading to the Caltex

got to love a swarm of k bikes warming up , with some good friends in the pics

at night around the fire , seanii , stan , and dave arrived not long ago



fueling up ready to be off

 

taking over Griffiths lookout ...lol

Just realised Charlie that an orange coloured bike is easy to find in a gaggle of bikes.

aye stan she is a standout ...indeed !!!

Stan wrote:Just realised Charlie that an orange coloured bike is easy to find in a gaggle of bikes.

A perfect choice for that Pom who seems to get everywhere too.

Paul just because you guys voted for Brexit....going all that far away is a bit extreme....looks like you had a ball too.

Stan wrote:So thats what it was.....someone told me it was a condom.

The day started cold and uninviting. I was awake at 5am with nothing more than the mournful hooting of an owl for company, somewhere outside in those dark, damp, musty, woods by my house. A pile of washing stood ready to be fed into the machine and the stark white glare coming from the nearly empty fridge only served to remind me that I needed to pay a visit to the local supermarket or risk starvation. To add to my misery, the central heating boiler was broken, so there would be no heat or hot water until the landlord came to fix it - several attempts at component changing so far had failed to effect a repair and it looks like a new boiler is needed and more delay, cold and disruption ahead. What a gloomy, miserable start to the weekend.

This time last week, though, oh boy what an adventure! So on with the coat, hat, gloves and scarf, brew a steaming hot mug of coffee and settle back with my trusty MacBook and start writing my account of my experience half a world, two seasons and 11 hours time difference away! This could take some time, so settle back, grab yourself a nice steaming cup of coffee or refreshing coldie and read on...

My story began way back in late August when Smithy first dangled the carrot of temptation on the forum pages inviting all and sundry to attend what is fast becoming an annual event, the Northern Tablelands Ride. With both my daughters now away at University and a job change at work offering a meeting-clear diary slot in November, my changed personal circumstances offered a real opportunity to seize that delicious looking, orangey, dangly carrot. Oh, so tempting...but I dithered, I posted that I was interested and idly checked flight times and prices, I dithered for a full TWO more days and then I went for it. In a blur, my flights were booked and I was committed! Sometimes, you've just got to act fast - the cost and availability of flights would only get worse and it was guaranteed that, as I understood my new job better, I would end up finding reasons to be at work instead of out there enjoying myself. Nobody is indispensable, I was due some annual leave and I was quite sure that the world would keep spinning in my absence - this was just too good an opportunity to miss. After my previous very short visit (April 2016), I had vowed that I would return for a longer trip...well, more than 2 years had already gone by and there were no obvious longer-trip windows on my horizon. I could keep planning the dream trip and risk letting the years slip steadily by or I could grab this opportunity for another short trip and whet my appetite all over again. None of us are getting any younger and who knows what unexpected surprises tomorrow may bring? It felt good to have made the decision, real good, and now I had plenty of time for planning, preparing and looking forward to the adventure.

I had been warned by Gaz about the follies of a northerner venturing into the blistering heat of the deep south, but also was re-assured by him and Sean that the Northern Tablelands (NTL) were much more temperate and comfortable in November (Aussie Spring) than the increasingly hot coastal regions. It was a risk I was prepared to take. On my previous visit (Aussie Autumn), I had worn my predominantly black textile UK riding gear (sans thermal layers) which had proved to be bordering on too warm for the conditions. The expectations were that it would be even warmer this time, so first on the agenda was to invest in some lighter coloured "summer" riding gear. Searching the interweb high and low, I was amazed that so much of the summer gear still came in that heat absorbing shade of black and it took me a while until I found a silver/light grey vented jacket and pair of armoured chino style bike trousers. The downside of the vented jacket, of course, is that it has zero rain protection. Whilst I wasn't planning on encountering any rain (I could stay at home for that), various accounts from previous NTL gatherings suggested that the odd cyclone and monsoon-like down pour was fairly probable. I had experienced Aussie downpours before, so knew that we weren't talking about a little inconvenient drizzle, so whilst I could have bought a waterproof liner for the vented jacket, I knew that I would be soaked before I would have a chance to insert it. Instead, I opted for a fluorescent yellow waterproof oversuit - just in case. I also invested in a new Schuberth C3 Pro flip-face helmet, in glossy white, which offered much improved vent arrangements to help keep my head cool. Not a cheap option, but I had been meaning to replace my old helmet since my unfortunate, bone breaking, encounter with a car back in November 2016 - the third party insurer has admitted liability, but I'm still waiting on the insurance payout! 

Having committed to the visit, I was overwhelmed with the generous offers of bikes to borrow and places to stay but decided that the simplest logistic solution was to just abuse the generosity of Stan and Smithy and made my plans accordingly. Stan offered me the use of his vespa orange K100RT, with lower fairing panels removed for increased comfort, for the ride. I was now counting down the days until my flight out of London on the evening of 06 November, the NTL ride 9/10/11 November and my flight back on 13 November (arriving at 04:55am into London on 14 November). A lot of travelling time for 5 days on the ground...

Time proved that I was right about the risks of dithering and the potential impact of work. I was soon saddled with an all day work meeting in Derby on 06 November and a two day meeting, also in Derby, immediately on my return on 14/15 November. Ironically, until I went to KFest at Castle Donnington back in May 2018, I had spent very little time up in the East Midlands area - now I seem to be at work meetings in that neck of the woods 3 or 4 times a month. Anyway, the work meetings and journey dog-leg were achievable within my itinerary - just!

Day 1 / 2: Monday 05 November / Tuesday 06 November 2018 (268miles in a tin box)


"Remember, remember the 5th of November, gunpowder, treason and plot...", oh, those halcyon days back in November 1605 when Guy Fawkes and his mates fluffed their attempt to blow up the English parliament and King James I (James VI of Scotland). Was it a coincidence that I would soon be riding through the Guy Fawkes National Park in NSW? Clearly the early Aussie settlers were more impressed with Guy's antics than the English were, but I can't help thinking that perhaps we need a modern day Guy to stop the lunacy of Brexit, before it's too late?

This was definitely the long way to the airport! I had packed my bags over the weekend, carefully putting stuff needed for the NTL ride in the pair of BMW pannier bags I had, then adding riding boots and gloves and my spares kit etc. to the remaining space in my suitcase. I had received a small package of goodies from Frank (the Rat) over the weekend which were destined for Charlie, packed a couple of bottles of whisky that Tackler had bought during his visit and distillery tour back in June 2018 - but had been unable to post to himself due to the high alcohol content, and had ordered a new clutch cable for Warren C from Motorworks. Disappointingly, the clutch cable did not make the Saturday postal delivery, so I had to keep my fingers crossed that it would be delivered on the Monday while I was at work - it was, and I found it waiting for me late on Monday afternoon. Fortunately, it was small enough to put through the letter box otherwise it would have gone to back the parcel depot for collection the following day...and too late for my trip.

To add to the complication, I had to pack 2 suitcases - one for the Aussie trip and the other for the work meetings on either side. Satisfied that I had the right things in the right bags along with helmet, passport, visa and Aussie currency, I was ready for the 2.5 hour drive to Derby at the height of the evening rush hour. I was staying in Derby overnight, ahead of the meeting on 06 November, so had time to unwind a little before my onward travel. The acrid wood smoke from the various 5th November "Bonfire Night" parties hung heavy over Derby in the cool night air, whilst the air reverberated to the loud bangs of the myriad of, often unseen, fireworks being let off to celebrate Guy's failure 413 years previously. There is something quintessentially British about celebrating failure! Like most traditions though, I suspect that the ongoing patronage is all about marketing and partying rather than anything more serious these days.

Work done on 06 November and a quick change out of my work clothes into my travelling garb and by 15:30 I was on the M1 motorway headed south to London Heathrow airport. Despite the many miles of speed restrictions through the interminable roadworks and amid an ever increasing volume of traffic, I made reasonable time and parked my car securely in the long stay carpark near Terminal 5. I prefer to self park and keep my car keys on me rather than opt for the slightly cheaper valet parking options - I've heard too many horror stories about those places! It was already dark by the time I parked up and, although a relatively mild 14 Deg C, was becoming a wet, blustery evening. There is something deeply satisfying about flying off on holiday and leaving wet, miserable, weather behind when bound for somewhere more exotic! The shuttle bus duly picked me up and deposited me a while later at the Terminal building. I checked in, committed my suitcase to the great mysterious convertor system at the bag drop (possibly never to be seen again) and headed for security. I have absolutely no problem with airport security checks but some people seem to be surprised by it and the delay it can cause. It is pretty basic - no liquids over 100ml, laptops out of bags, belts and jackets off, pockets emptied...a whole body scan for me and an X-ray for my bag, helmet and sundries. This time, I get a bonus screening - a pat down and swabbing for explosive residue. Luckily I wasn't setting off any of those fireworks the previous night! Disappointingly, the bit of metal holding my left wrist together (beneath my "suicide" scar) doesn't seem to affect the metal detectors. I'm given the all clear and allowed to continue on into the glittery, temptations, of the duty free shops. I intended picking up a bottle of Whiskey (I had already decided on an Irish Bushmills 10 year old malt - hence the "e") to take to the gathering, but as I was flying via Singapore, I knew that I had to delay my purchase until either Singapore or on arrival at Sydney. I wonder how many people fall foul of the additional security screening at Singapore and find that they can't take their large bottle of grog in their hand luggage back onto the aircraft during the 45 minute stop over? I had already done my homework, the price between Heathrow, Singapore and Sydney was pretty similar and, as the duty free shop would be open at Sydney when I arrived, it was a no-brainer to delay any purchase until then. I made my way to the departure lounge to await announcement of the gate.

Having made my way to the departure gate, at about 21:15 boarding commenced. As I was paying my own way on this trip, I was back in cattle class with an aisle seat on the starboard side of the plane (British Airways Boeing 777) towards the back of the aircraft. Despite it being a completely full flight, I was able to stash my helmet and backpack in the overhead bin for the 12 hr 45 min flight (6765 miles) to Singapore and make myself relatively comfortable. As soon as I had, however, a trolly-dolly approached politely asked me if I was travelling alone...a last minute upgrade to 1st class perhaps? Sadly not - just a request for me to move 2 rows back to allow some last minute reseating of another passenger. There was no reason for me not to move (even though I couldn't actually understand the reason for me to move), but accepted the thanks and settled down for the the long haul. I had my flight plan carefully worked out to avoid issues with jet-lag. It's all about setting your body clock to the destination as soon as possible. My watch was already advanced 8 hours to Singapore time before we left London, forget that it is nearly 10pm in the UK, stay awake, watch movies, eat, drink, snooze when essential and force the body clock onto the new time zone. 

Day 3 / 4: Wednesday 07 November / Thursday 08 November 2018: (10673 miles in an aluminium tube)

Surprisingly, the flight went relatively quickly and aside a little heavy turbulence over the Malay peninsular which saw my coffee appear about 30cm higher than my cup (I caught most of it!), we arrived on schedule into Singapore airport early on the evening of 07 November. Despite the fact that we were continuing on to Sydney on exactly the same aircraft, as expected, we had to de-plane with all our hand luggage at Singapore. I presume this is to ensure that passangers getting off at Singapore don't leave some unpleasant "gift" onboard and allows a full security sweep of the aircraft. The BA crew were also changing over, their job done and a hotel and high jinx in Singapore beckoning. Cynically, I also suspect that it is in the interests of the Singapore airport duty free shops to encourage us to spend the short time on the ground with them. I resisted the lure of the shops and went straight back through security and into the departure lounge to await re-boarding.

Having endured the re-boarding dance and once again stowed my hand luggage safely in the overhead bins, I was assigned to my original seat and not invited to move again. I remade my acquaintance with a lovely old ex-pat couple of Scottish descent who were returning to Australia after their holiday to visit family in Scotland. Onwards and upwards, watch set to Sydney time (3 hours ahead of Singapore) and just a short 7 hr 45 (3907 mile) hop to complete the outbound journey. My anti-jetlag schedule was critical on this leg of the journey, effectively leaving Singapore in the evening and arriving into Sydney first thing in the morning (local time), it was essential to eat early and maximise sleep for the rest of the journey - knowing that I would be woken up for breakfast about 5am. All went pretty much to plan and we arrived in Sydney just before 7am on 08 November, 11 hours ahead of UK time and 10673 miles away from London.

Day 4: Thursday 08 November 2018: Sydney to Old Bar (304 miles in a rented tin can)

Having been reunited with my checked bag, picked up the bottle of Bushmills 10 year old malt from the Sydney arrivals duty free, cleared immigration and customs, I emerged into the crowed chaos of the Sydney airport arrivals hall. There seemed to be more people waiting to meet the arriving passengers than there were arriving passengers. I followed the signs to the rental car lot only to realise that I had to go back inside the terminal to find the rental car desk. Why the rental car sign didn't point me that way in the first place, I'll never know - someone, somewhere obviously has a sense of humour. Declining the offer to pay an additional $50AUS per day to reduce the $4250 damage excess to $0, I trundled out again to the rental car parking lot and located my bottom of the range Kia something. The car was only to get me from the airport to Stan's place out at Old Bar just over 200 miles away, so the lack of refinement, sportiness or anything else ness was not an issue. With hindsight, I now realise that I didn't take a single picture of my little rental car - oh well, no sleep lost over that omission! Stan with typical Aussie generosity had offered to pick me up from the airport - I know all things are relative and, on a big island like Australia, 200 miles (400 mile round trip) is not considered the same as 200 miles in the UK, but even so, I felt that was literally taking hospitality too far.

GPS installed on windscreen, prepared route to Old Bar loaded and I was off straight into all the glory (or is that gory?) of the Sydney city morning rush hour. I was already a little behind schedule due to the fannying about with the rental car desk, but had forgotten how tediously slow Sydney rush hour traffic could be. I had thought, since I was taken the long route to Old Bar via the Putty Road, that I would avoid the worst of the traffic and be out of the city quickly - a retrospective look at the map shows that I had chosen the extended Sydney superb route and it took an inordinate amount of time to wend my way through countless traffic lights to reach the open highway. 

I had ridden the Putty Road with the Krew during my previous visit and, even though I was in a tin box this time and it wouldn't be the same as being on a bike, I knew it was a great scenic route and therefore a must do. I could have saved 100 miles by taking the motorway and A roads along the coast instead, but where's the fun in that? My original intention was to stop off at the Grey Gums Cafe on the Putty Road for a late breakfast and coffee, but my slow progress extracting myself from the grasp of Sydney meant I was running about an hour later than planned. Besides, the Putty Road was completely clear in my northbound direction (and very quiet southbound), so I decided to drive on through. A quick glance to my right as I passed the grey Gums Cafe revealed just a single, solitary bike there, so it wouldn't have been a very memorable stop anyway. Despite being in a tin box, and an under powered one at that, I enjoyed the drive up the Putty Road on dry tarmac, in the bright sunshine and under clear blue skies. The temperature hovered around a very comfortable 20 deg C mark. On every corner, I half expected to meet some out of control lunatic on a bike careering round the bend on the wrong side of the road, but there were none and perhaps the only lunatic out on the Putty Road that beautiful morning was the Pom who had been travelling since Tuesday just to be there and take the long route to his destination. 

After the Putty Road, my next planned stop was to drop in and see Gaz and Ruth and have a nosey at their recently completed and moved into new house at Pokolbin in the Hunter Valley. I knew Gaz was joining us on the NTL ride, but it was a good opportunity to see Ruth again having last seen her when she and Gaz so kindly hosted the Krew's overnight stop at their previous house in Greta during the rideout in April 2016. I thought that house was incredible - but the new one...absolutely stunning and an astonishing attention to detail. Nothing like the new builds that we mostly get here in the UK! After my guided tour, we sat awhile on the rear verandah and enjoyed a delicious bite to eat and welcome cup of tea in the cooling breeze blowing up the valley. In conjunction with my preparations for my visit, Gaz had kindly sent me a suggest route to upload to my GPS and follow to Old Bar. This very much agreed with my intention to avoid the main routes and take the more scenic roads up towards Gloucester before swinging to the east. 

I bid farewell to Gaz and Ruth at about 14:00 and pointed my little car north again. I particularly enjoyed the Bucketts Way between Gloucester and Krambach - it was even better to ride later in the week! I should have stayed on the Bucketts Way all the way through to Taree, but as I was running a little late, I opted for the faster route joining the A1 Pacific Highway at Nabiac.  As major routes go, the Pacific Highway does not lack it's own share of scenery, but it is a generally faster and busier route (100-110 kph) than the back ways. I finally rolled into Old Bar and easily found my way to Stan and Jaynes "new" house arriving at 17:45 on the Thursday afternoon. It was good to park up the tin box and say hello again to Stan and Jayne (I previously rode up to meet them both on 10 July 2016 when they were in London accompanying a winning technology team from their school from Dubbo). It was so nice was to be able to have a shave and shower and then settle into a nice cool beer or two and a delicious dinner. It had been one very long day but I managed to keep going until about 22:30 when I slumped wearily into my nice, big comfortable bed and slept deeply through until morning.

Day 5: Friday 09 November 2018 - the Gathering. Old Bar to Guyra (230 miles on a K)
A cacophony of strange bird songs woke me from my slumber. The day had dawned bright, dry and sunny - a perfect day for a riding adventure. Stan and Jayne were both up and about already and a leisurely breakfast was enjoyed. They had moved into their new house in the last year and had seemingly done much to improve it since. Set back from quiet, but bumpy, patchwork "repaired" side roads and at the end of a long drive, the house was everything you could wish for set within a sizeable (huge by UK standards) plot of land resplendent with towering eucalyptus trees. A true slice of a tropical paradise glowing in the early morning sun. After a tour of the estate (staying inside the snake proof fence!), it was onto more serious matters and into the garage to check over and load up the bikes.

Stan was going to be riding his basic red K100 and was trusting me with his vibrant "vespa" orange (almost as orange as Donald Trump) K100 RT or "Jaffa" as I will refer to her hereon in. Jaffa had had her lower fairing sections removed - a common modification to the fully faired K100's to make them cooler to ride in the heat of the spring/summer/autumn months. She had a full set of BMW luggage and a black screen which looked good against the orange paintwork. I bolted my GPS mount onto the left hand handlebar and plugged it into the merit socket above the coil cover. I also took the liberty of attaching my Garmin camera mount on the fairing under the headlight with a 3M sticky pad. Panniers were quickly loaded with the made to measure BMW bags (made planning and loading so much easier) and my come in handy spares bag (fuses, bulbs, clutch cable, plugs, first aid kit, suncream etc.) went into the top box. GPS and camera mounted and tyres, oil, lights all checked and Jaffa was ready to go.

We had arranged to meet Gaz and the rest of the Hunter Valley Krew at the McDonalds at Taree at about 11:15 for the ride up to Guyra and Gaz had sent me a "Glympse" to show his progress. Glympse is a fancy phone app that Rosskko found and is a great way of sharing your location in real time with those who you wish to share it. It has the option of showing your speed too - but Gaz had sensibly turned this feature off - you never know who might actually be tracking you! As we milled about, I checked on his progress - informing Stan that they were somewhere called Chatham. The Chatham I know is a long, long way away (and, yes, i would have been surprised if he was anywhere near there), but apparently this particular Chatham is right in Taree, which meant he and the Krew were very nearly at the rendezvous point. They were early and we hadn't even got our boots on! Action stations! Boots on, jackets and helmets on....go, go, go! We left Jayne to her peace and quiet and fired up the bikes. Jaffa's green starter button, which had shown some signs of severe wear, immediately disintegrated but I caught the spring and slipped it in my pocket. There was enough left of the starter button that I had no problems at all starting her, although the lack of spring did present some interesting automatic starting sequences over then next couple of days.Luckily, the electric controls cut out the starter motor when the engine speed is above 700rpm, so I didn't have the worry of it running continuously - if it did, would that make it a hybrid K bike? 
Now, that's what i call a drive....


It was about a 20 minute ride to the rendezvous and as we rolled into the parking lot, we were greeted by Gaz, Tom, Rickmeister and Jacko on their mixture of BMWs of various sizes and styles. 

After exchanging pleasantries, it was time to hit the road. Our route was to take us along the Pacific highway to Herons Creek where we would veer off along the Bago Road to join the B56 - the fabled Oxley Highway.  The only thing that spoilt it in anyway was the number of roadworks that slowed our progress either by putting us on loose gravel or stopping us at traffic control sections.
A section of the Bago Road - under repair

Allegedly one of the must ride roads in Australia, the Oxley highway did not disappoint. Climbing steadily through a scribble of tight twists and turns, it was a blast and we soon reached our lunch stop at Gingers Creek Roadhouse.
Satellite view of the Oxley Highway up to Gingers Creek - dig them twisties!

L-R: Jacko, Gaz, Stan, Rickmeister & Tom at Gingers Creek Roadhouse

...and a fine selection of BMWs


...and a couple of topical K ones...

After a lunch of toasted sandwiches, fizzy pop and a chat, it was back in the saddle for the next section of our ride up the Oxley Highway to Walcha. Rickmeister and Jacko were gone in a flash, not to be seen again until we got to Smithy's - unaware of the minor problem that slowed us up a little. I set off behind Rickmeister to give myself a little workout on the remaining twisties. Unfortunately, I had a hillbilly in his 4x4 on my tail most of the way - I eventually let him past on a straight section, but even so it was a good run after the slightly more sedate pre-lunch section.

Once I had cleared the twists, I took the opportunity to pull over for a photo shoot.



I then lay in wait to "shoot" Stan, Gaz and Tom as they came past



I then jumped back astride Jaffa and set off in hot pursuit. Fearing that I may have problems with the starter switch, Gaz kindly slowed down to make sure I was catching up (or come back and look for me, if I didn't). Just after I caught up with him and as we roared past a slow moving ute, we were alarmed to see Stan slowing down and coming to a stop. 

We both slowed down and, letting the ute pass us safely, we spun around and rode back to find out what the problem was. Stan's bike had died on him and wouldn't start. The ignition switch appeared to be normal, the fuel pump was heard to run when pressing the starter, the starter spun merrily...so what was the problem? We visually checked all the fuses and they appeared all good - I was starting to think Hall effect sensors (but have never experienced their failure myself). We considered removing a fuel hose from the fuel rail to check if fuel was actually being pumped, but I was concerned with removing a hose on a hot engine - the last thing we needed was to set the poor bike on fire! Instead, we opened the fuel cap and Gaz immediately spotted the problem - the hose between the fuel filter and the discharge pipe to the fuel rail had become disconnected - in effect the pump was simply recirculating fuel in the tank and nothing was getting through to the fuel rail. So, it was off with the fuel cap (not for the last time this trip!) and a fumble around in half a tank of fuel to reconnect the hose. The difficulty was then how to tighten the jubilee clip. We managed using a allen key slotted into a 6mm socket - being very careful not to drop either part into the tank! Moments like this certainly test your knowledge but, success this time and the bike fired up. Gaz rode on to the nearby Walcha to see if he could buy a long handled screw driver to try and tighten the jubilee clip more - before the shops shut, leave Stan and I to replace the fuel cap and then follow on behind.

We caught up with Gaz in Walcha, but the local hardware store didn't have what we needed so he had sought the assistance of a mechanic at a garage nearby. 


The offending clip was further tightened and we were back on our way again. Stan was riding to Seans place, where he had the promise of a nice comfortable bed waiting. Gaz and I were heading to Smithy's where we had opted for the camping option. We had expected Stan (who set off in the direction of Bendemeer) to turn at the first roundabout, but he didn't so after a few minutes waiting we decided to set off towards Uralla up the Thunderbolt Way. Both ways get you to Armidale and then on to Guyra but our way was considerably shorter. We didn't see him until later on at Smithy's. An uneventful ride took us quickly to Guyra where we fuelled the bikes at the local servo and then rode the final 20km to Smithy's place, arriving at 18:40. What a great place, high up on the Northern tablelands (according to my GPS at an elevation of 4206 feet/1282m), surrounded by rolling, tree lined, hill sides.

Parking up next to the assembled masses of K's and other bikes, I immediately recognised the legend known as Charlie - funny how, even though you have never met someone, you instantly know who they are - so good to meet him at last. It was time to unpack and then socialise properly. Smithy had already set up a tent for me, complete with mattress, sleeping bag and (later on) a pillow mysteriously appeared! What a star! I dumped my bags in the tent and returned to the gathering for the first of several coldies, a cracking Bar-b-cue and a good natter around the camp fire.

It was great to meet with old friends (Smithy, Warren C, Klompy, Stan, Gaz, Tom, Rickmeister, Ed, Tackler, Al & Marie) and new (Frank, Warren, Charlie, Pegasus, Rockman, Postman Pat, Jacko, Seanii, Stuart & Michael). The beers keep flowing only to be interrupted by a tot or two of Aussie rum and a wee dram of the Irish Whiskey. By midnight, only the hardcore remained at the fire - Charlie, Rickmeister and me. Fools! But we had a busy day ahead, so it was off to bed to get some much needed sleep.

Day 6: Saturday 10 November 2018: Northern Tablelands ride day (349 miles on a K)


The day dawned cool and cloudy. I was up early to see the sunrise, but the sun wasn't playing so I settled for making coffee and a couple of slices of toast. Smithy really had thought of everything. The fire had burnt out overnight and there was a distinct chill in the air. However, soon others began to stir...


Getting ready for the ride, Klompy had his first issue of the day when his bike wouldn't start having flooded. Petrol coming out of the muffler is never a good sign! Of course, there was no shortage of advice and eventually, the bike coughed into life.

Then we were off, first stop the local servo to meet with the gang staying at Seanii's and elsewhere. By now, the sun had burnt off the clouds and was beaming down on us. Those that needed fuel filled their tanks and we waited for the stragglers. Stan was notable by his absence - it transpired that he had suffered the same fuel problem as the day before and there was a slight delay while his bike was fixed again.


However, 08:15 we were all ready for the off and set off at pace east bound on Guyra road. The road was dry, clear and we soon had our mass of bikes strung out over a lengthy, fast, straight section, with Charlie bringing up the rear and maintaining pace from behind.

Conditions couldn't have been better as we blasted along in the relatively cool air across the high plains. Just before Ebor, the road merged into the Waterfall Way (B78) and took on a more twisty nature as it led us through fast sweeping turns towards Dorrigo. The scenery on all sides was spectacular but had to be absorbed in quick sideways glances as I concentrated on maintaining pace and trying to get the right line for the corners to avoid any nugatory braking whilst keeping a close watch on the rider in front and those looming behind in my mirrors. I noticed that the NSW road lot had helpfully inundated every corner with a max speed warning - while these speeds were invariable on the low side, they did provide a useful reference as to how sharp the approaching bend was going to be. My favourites were the 65kph, which read as "maintain max road speed - and lean" and I must admit, I marvelled at the way Al handled his sidecar through those bends - I imagined Leroy hanging on with his teeth.

We didn't stop at Ebor Falls - once you've herded the cats, its often best to keep 'em moving - and we pushed on through to Dorrigo where we pulled over for a coffee break. Well a coffee and a pie and a slice of cake...


Suitably refreshed, we hit the road again for the short haul down (and short detour off the main route) to Griffith's look out where we stopped again to take in the impressive panorama, talk more bike talk and see what I am led to believe are kangaroos up close...there was also an odd couple of English blokes there who seemed to think that we were all interested in them being English and would know exactly where they were from by their northern accents. Seanii inadvertently achieved top marks in this guessing game, assessing that one of the guys was from Lancashire - he wasn't, he was from neighbouring Yorkshire and there is nothing that will wind a Yorkshireman up more than being branded Lancastrian!! Good result Seanii. Bottom line was - who cares where you are from? Enjoy where you're at!

Griffith's Lookout - I am assured that these things are called "kangaroos" - back home we call them cows, but each to their own.


Tacklers K75S

Seanii's Rocket




Our hosts and guides...the Smithys

Gawping and nattering done, we left the kangaroos to do whatever milk producing kangaroos do best and made our way back to the Waterfall Way.
The next section took us down a fairly steep descent through some tight twists and turns, with waterfalls cascading immediately to the side of the road - probably something to do with the name of the road, or perhaps a complete coincidence?

  
An awesome set of twisties, whichever way you look at it...Traffic was steadily building, however, most was going up the hill in the opposite direction and the few vehicles we encountered going down hill, kindly pulled over and let us through. They were probably there for the scenery too and having 20+ spirited bikers on your tail does not make for a relaxing scenic drive. According to my GPS, we dropped about 2500 feet (760m) in elevation from Griffiths Lookout and the Pacific Highway.

We continued down the road through Bellingen, where Al peeled off to the side of the road with an electrical issue, and eventually joined the Pacific Highway at Raleigh. Keeping 20+ bikes together through towns, traffic lights and a much greater volume of traffic was never going to happen and we soon separated into smaller clusters as we rode though Coff's Harbour. My cluster, led by Ed, hung a left immediately after the "Big Banana". One thing you've got to like about the Aussies is that they say what they mean. Like the Waterfall way was a way with waterfalls, there was absolutely no mistaking the place called the "Big Banana" either. It certainly was one big banana! Unfortunately though, the left turn was not the right turn and our little cluster climbed a steep single lane track to Timms Lookout. It was a nice little detour and a complete change of scenery surrounded by carefully manicured banana trees, but it was not the Sealy lookout where we were supposed to be going! Our road fizzled out and we turned the bikes and headed back down the hill again to the Pacific Highway. Unfortunately, my garmin camera had run out of battery prior to this detour, so the pictures remain only in my brain and I can't show others what they missed.

Back on the Pacific Highway, again separated further by traffic, I was now in the lead of our now micro-cluster of bikes. What could possibly go wrong having a pom in the lead? I had my GPS, but it (and me) were a little confused having missed a programmed waypoint somewhere, it was desperately trying to send we back to this unknown destination. Not helpful! Had I known that the actual destination was the Sealy Lookout, all would have been fine - but I didn't and it wasn't! Initially, all was fine, an ever patient Smithy was parked up at the side of the highway at the next left turn gesticulating wildly for us to go that way (Bruxner Park Road). I obeyed and was soon climbing the twisty road up the steep incline. Then, once again common sense failed - we came to sharp left turn but the GPS said straight on, so straight on I went with the micro cluster in behind. Had I thought a little harder about it (and actually seen it), the clue was a sign which pointed to the Sealy Look out to the left, and the fact that the road we were on started to drop down hill again should have made things obvious that we had, once again, gone the wrong way. After a short while, Gaz signalled us to stop and as we were preparing to turn around, I was greatly reassured by Tackler also returning from the wrong direction! A quick U-turn later and we returned to the proper route and climbed through the remaining twists and bends up to the Sealy Lookout where the rest of the gathering were assembled and tucking into coffees etc. Despite his earlier breakdown, Al still managed to get to the lookout before us!

Sealy Lookout - finally!




At Sealy Lookout, I finally got to say hello to Ed. It was a beautiful spot and worth the (self induced) hassle of getting there. I enjoyed a hot cup of coffee as I took in the panoramic views and fought off the horrid biting flies that clearly had also stopped off there for a little refreshment too. 

Back on the bikes again and we rolled back down the hill, through the lush rain forest towering on either side of the road. 



According to Google maps, there is a tourist attraction called "The Vincent Tree" by the side of our route - we had passed it 3 times (with our earlier detour) but I'm sorry to say I couldn't tell you which of the many towering trees was the Vincent Tree nor why is had been selected as a tourist attraction.

Apparently, it is this one on the left next by the block...I'm still no wiser as to why it is special. Maybe Vincent stuffed his Vincent into it once upon a time?

The ride continued down the bumpy road, through dappled light, cool shade and with regular blinding shafts of sunshine piecing the dense foliage overhead. Australia certainly is a land of dramatic contrasts, separated by only a few hundreds of km. We reached the Bucca Road and paused to allow others to catch up. Smithy's cat herding duties were being tested to the max.



A little later than originally planned (I think Smithy had wisely phoned ahead and let them know that we were going to be late), we rolled to a stop at the Idle Inn, Nana Glen for our scheduled lunch stop.

Charlie & Gertie



We had been allocated the outside seating area (all of it) and settled down for a hearty lunch and a little light refreshment. It was much warmer now and even in the shade must have been pushing 26 deg C. OK, that's nothing to you acclimatised locals, but it is certainly bordering on warm for us lesser mortals. The liquid (mostly water) was definitely in the greatest demand. Nonetheless, a very pleasant lunch stop and I believe we were graced by the presence of the Smithy seniors too. I didn't discover who they were until a little later - but it does explain why they were acting like they knew people in our group! At the time, I guess I just thought that, as there is only about 22 million of you in Aussieland - you probably all knew each other.
Unfortunately, our stop over wasn't without it's issues. Klompy, having nursed his bike into life first think in the morning (overcoming it's altitude sickness), now had lost his right hand mirror glass (some nice lady following in a SUV) had tried to flag him down earlier when she saw it go. But, much worse, he believed his final drive/drive shaft was toast. Not the sort of breakdown that you want in the middle of nowhere. As it turned out, of course, it wasn't the middle of nowhere, it was where the Smithy seniors lived and Smith & Klompy were able to get the poorly bike into safe keeping [they returned the following day with a multitude of spares - and Charlie - and replaced the defective drive shaft]. Not only was the location of the breakdown fortuitous, but as Seanii had not brought the hill billies with him in the rocket's side car, there was space for a passenger. Ed bravely volunteered and handed over the keys of his bike (Smurfette) to Klompy for the return trip.

Lunch and dramas dealt with, bills paid and bikes refuelled, we headed north out of Nana Glen on the Orara Way up to South Grafton. This was a fast (within the limits, officer) well paved road with long gentle bends surrounded by a flat expanse of countryside, which no doubt aided the digestion of our sumptuous lunch. 
One of the few police vehicles seen during the ride


At South Grafton, we turned left onto the the B76 Gwydir Highway, but as with Coff's Harbour, the increased volume of traffic and junctions soon split the group up into smaller clusters. Smithy and a few others pulled over, but waved us on...so on we went and didn't see most of them again until we finally got back to Smithy's in the early evening. 

The road though South Grafton was lined with the purple flowering Jacaranda trees. Apparently, the town holds a Jacaranda Festival each year to show off these impressive plants (29 Oct - 03 Nov), but impressive and beautiful as they were, it is likely that they were already a couple of weeks past their best. 


Our much diminished party continued north west along the Gwydir Highway. Lush green grass bore testimony to heavy rains that brought the recent regional drought to an abrupt end. It looks good enough to eat - if you were a milk producing kangaroo (aka cow). Rockman, who had been tailing Stan and I since South Grafton, put a spurt on and soon disappeared over the horizon.

The road rose quickly through a series of bends as we entered the Gibraltar Range National Park. On one of those bends, we caught up with Tackler and Klompy who appeared to be having more bike problems - Klompy was clearly not happy with the notchy feeling steering and handling of Smurfette. It didn't seem to deter him though, as he soon rode on - not to be seen again until Smithy's later on (and still in once piece). With the noise of the bike engines turned off, we were able to hear the incredible Bell birds and their bell like ringing call to one another as they discussed the funny looking gaggle of 2 wheel propelled creatures in the lay-by below. I don't, of course, speak bell-bird, but I reckon they were discussing Smurfette and saying "have you checked the battery?" Clever birds those bell birds!

As we set off again, we ascended rapidly another 1500ft through some tight hairpins and stopped at the Heffron Lookout where we caught up with Tackler again who had also stopped to take in the view. 

Jaffa proudly sporting her remembrance poppy





Stan at Heffron Lookout

Tackler on his way from Heffron Lookout

A little further up the road, I then peeled off the road to dutifully stop off at the Raspberry Lookout while Stan continued ahead. I found that Tackler had done the same and was already at the look out.

We returned to the Gwydir Highway and were set to push on in the direction of Glen Innes, but were seduced by a sign to the Boundary Falls and a dirt track leading off to the right. It had to be worth a look! On a heavy road bike like a K100 RT, I am not a great fan of rough dirt track and am fearful of dropping the bike on the loose surface. This one, however, wasn't too bad - just bumpy and juddery. Fortunately, it wasn't too far to the falls and no harm was done to any K bikes. Al, Marie and Postman Pat had arrived at the track turn off just as we were headed in - only Marie followed us. We could only get a small glimpse of the falls from the top carpark, so undeterred by the sign proclaiming "Boundary Falls 400m - approx 30 minute walk" I set off for a closer look while Tackler and Marie remained at the top. A steep set of steps quickly plunged me to the bottom of the falls down a tree lined path. OK, so not the most impressive falls I've ever seen - but importantly, I can say I have seen them now!

It had only taken a few minutes to get down to the falls, climbing back up in bike gear took a little more effort and a little longer. Evenso, well under the advertised 30 minutes for the round trip. I was quite warm by the time I got back to the bikes. Marie had already gone on, so I followed Tackler back up the track and, after initially going the wrong way, soon were heading in the direction of Glen Innes again. 

A notable thing about this part of the world is that the homesick early settlers have named many places after places in the UK. As we were riding up into the Gibraltar Range, the landscape reminded me of the Scottish Highlands - I recall thinking, this is like a post global warming Scotland - a Scotland on steroids. I hadn't appreciated at the time, however, that many of the places coming up on the Gwydir Highway were typically Scottish (Glen Coe, Ben Lomond, Lochness, Dundee...although, having been to Dundee-UK, I'm quite sure that there is absolutely no resemblance between the two places).

At Glen Innes, Tackler and I pulled off the road to look at the Australian Standing stones. A modern tribute to the Celtic past of the various settlers who were sent or perhaps, latterly, chose to come to Australia. These crudely and obviously machine carved granite obelisks do not appear to have quite the same feel as their counterparts at Stonehenge (the original one, not the one a few km south of Glen Innes), but apparently they are scientifically aligned to do whatever stone circles do during the winter and summer solstices. So that's nice.

After a brief wander around the stones and a read of the local information, we hit the highway again heading south from Glen Innes down the A15 New England Highway in the direction of Guyra. A short way down this road and on a gravel section of road works, we came upon a sorry gaggle of our company standing at the side of the road, clustered around one of the bikes. 

It soon became evident that the centre of attention was Stan's basic K100 which had suffered another repeat of the fuel pipe disconnection breakdown. Al was wrist deep in petrol, valiantly trying to tighten the pesky jubilee clip back on the stub pipe. It was odd to note that Stan only broke down in this manner on straight, downhill sections of road. This time, suspecting the fuel filter to be aggravating the situation, the hose was reconnected without the filter in line (gulp, shock, horror). Gaz had apparently blown though the old filter and it appear to be unblocked, so the suspicion lay with the deterioration of the hose. That certainly would explain why we could never get it tight on the stub pipe. I learnt another bizarre thing while we stood at the side of the road, seemingly, in Australia, you actually grow tarmac. I watched in wonder as a truck carefully drove along spraying water on the gravel surface. I guess, that once watered like this, the gravel grows into strong, smooth tarmac. I can think of no other explanation. Amazing stuff science! In the UK, I think they do all that work behind the scenes and, having grown the tarmac in the highway agency laboratories, the workmen come along and lay it like turf. All that thinking got me thinking - just how many Aussies does it take to change a fuel hose?

Temperatures must have started dropping by this time, as you'll note that they have all kept their helmets on...or perhaps they are just camera shy?
With Tackler and mine additional supervision, however, the job was soon done and we were on our way again. Reaching the servo at Guyra, we waved off Stan (going back to Seanii's) and Gaz and I turned off the highway towards Smithy's. On that early evening road, we were riding with increased caution in case any suicidal kangaroos decided to leap out in front of us and spoil our day. They didn't, but I did spot several (real kangaroos, not the milk producing ones) in the bushes quite close to the side of the road getting ready to ambush Seanii when he drove over later on.

We rolled into Riverdale at the end of an extremely enjoyable ride out through some 349 miles of breath-taking scenery, glorious weather and in the finest of kompany and very ready for a coldie. The camp fire was already ablaze and with beers in hand, some serious socialising was underway. Rick G had made it down (unfortunately, he had been unable to join us on the ride) and it was great to catch up with him again. We were treated to another splendid Smithy BBQ and the talk went on late into the night. With a mix of rum, honey bourbon and malt whiskey or just plain old beer, we took time to toast our absent friends. A few more whiskeys followed...
I was feeling distinctly weary by about 22:30 and could feel myself nodding off in the warmth of the fire (Ed had already succumbed and was snoring softly next to me - probably from all the exertion of trying to demonstrate his Aldi inflatable lounge condom thingy). I stood up ready to make my excuses and retire to a nice warm sleeping bag, but from some unknown deep reserve of energy within, I gained my second wind and next thing I knew it was nearly 1am. Once again, Rickmeister and I had held out to the bitter end and were the last ones standing! 

I retired to my tent, but noting the clear sky above and distant flashes of lightening (a small thunderstorm was occurring down on the coast to the east, some100+km away). I stood gazing into the black, velvety sky at the myriad of stars above me. Of course, with out any light pollution out in the depths of the countryside, the longer you look, the more stars you see. A meteor burned brightly as it cut a long yellow arc across the night sky. It looked so low that I almost expected to hear a thud as it fell to earth somewhere in the neighbouring fields. I made a wish. Another shooting star flashed across the sky - another wish. Then a third shooting star and a third wish (i made a wish for each of my daughters - it would be selfish to have them all for myself). Isn't funny how you always see more shooting stars after a few drinks on a Saturday night? Soon I was getting neck ache from looking up at the sky and, away from the fire, the clear night air was taking on a distinct chill. Time for bed...

Day 7: Sunday 11 November 2018 Smithy's to Old Bar via the Thunderbolt Way (218 miles)

Having been the last to bed, I was not the first to rise! I awoke to a cold, misty, murky morning and there was already people up and about by the time I emerged bleary eyed from my cocoon and breathed in the fresh, cool, damp twilight air. 

The sun was already starting to burn though the mist and by the time I had washed, it bore all the signs of being another beautiful day. I guess my fluorescent yellow rain suit was not destined to come out and play during this visit. I can't say that I'm sorry it didn't though. Smithy fired up the BBQ again and soon the air was filled with the mouth watering aroma of frying bacon and eggs. We sat, basking in the low morning sun gorging ourselves on cholesterol. and drinking fresh, strong black coffee. Can life really get any better than this? 

Leroy & frisbee...and a few tents in the early morning sun

Warren C and Charlie: revive the camp fire. Anyone would think it was cold up here?

Jaffa, Gaz11 and RickG's (ex Marge's) RT

After breakfast, the banners were brought out for signing by those few that had not previously made their mark.
Al-58 signs the Kfest banner as witnessed by Klompy and Warren C

...before Warren C, also makes his mark. Excellent supervision Mr. Klompy!!

...but noting that you are being supervised by Al, Charlie and Rick G!!

The obligatory pose with the banner photo was taken shortly afterwards.

Return story to be continued in Part 2 ...getting "message too long" warnings!

Wow Paul, thank you so much for that most impressive report and piccies of the NTR. Very much appreciated. And now looking for forward to the next instalment. 
Cheers
Tom

ditto tom , thanks paul

some excellent pics as well

Wow Paul. Now that's a ride report, looking forward to the rest, sorry I missed the ride.

Great report Paul. I cant wait for part 2.

Those speed signs on corners arent max corner speed. They are speed advisory as a warning only. A good bike in the hands of a good rider will double it. I cant do it anymore. The sidecar is in the range of +50% in good conditions, but there's not much room for error running at that pace. Left/right is diffrrent too.

My issues were all caused by the fuel tank connector.  NOT the battery, Ed.

Al

At Glen Innes, Tackler and I pulled off the road to look at the Australian Standing stones. A modern tribute to the Celtic past of the various settlers who were sent or perhaps, latterly, chose to come to Australia. These crudely and obviously machine carved granite obelisks do not appear to have quite the same feel as their counterparts at Stonehenge (the original one, not the one a few km south of Glen Innes), but apparently they are scientifically aligned to do whatever stone circles do during the winter and summer solstices. So that's nice. wrote:

They are pretty special in the mist at dawn with a lone piper wandering among them on the Celtic festival weekend each year.

I know what you mean though, I've visited some of the 'real' stones on the Orkneys, you can't compare.

And the Scots settlers did name everything they could too.  I've been lucky to find a locality called "Strathaird", it's the name of the ship my parents migrated on in '57/'58.  I was born very shortly after.

Whay the bike is known as "Jaffa" - 

Al