It was a really good ride down on Saturday. We met up pretty early just as the rising sun was beginning to dry out the roads from the night's rainfall. It was Blakey who'd arrived at the BP servo first followed by me and Liz, then Charlie rolled in. A gaggle of other bikes of various makes and models were waiting for their stragglers to arrive so it looked like a major gathering at the local servo. We donned our gear and headed out, three bikes and four people following the M1 to the state border, over the Tweed River and down the Pacific Highway as far as Bangalow, NSW, where we turned inland along a sweet, winding, two-lane country highway heading for Lismore and made our way to Summerland Way at Casino, a 275 kilometre ride from home (the bike returned 5.34 litres per 100 kms covered, with luggage and pillion! That's 44 miles per US gallon...not bad, not bad. It must be those NGK DP8REA projected tip cooler sparkies I use!?
After a quick splash of petrol we jetted off with Charlie setting a good pace on the smooth, fast roads heading south through the dry bush. The sun was brightening, the air clear and clean by now as we ambled along through the state forests to Grafton on the Clarence River. It was there after coffee (a pilgrimage to Macca's!?) that we got off the main road and dropped down onto Waterfall Way where the riding became really interesting. It's a series of sweeping corners, creeks, rocky hillsides, grassy farmland, cattle grazing, dry bushlands, the occasional old farmhouse with rusting corrugated shed roofs, and open range leading into the dense, damp rainforest and moss-covered, tight corners. This led to some added brown-eye, seat clamping! It was Blakey who enjoyed this the most! Liz and Blakey spotted a large, sluggish python resting in the warm sunshine at the roadside, a mad rainbow lorikeet nearly clipped his wings against my fairing and a large, brown pheasant dashed across the road in front of me, obviously with a death wish! I didn't spot any errant 'roos or wallabies this time. That portion of the ride from Grafton to Dorrigo was about 125 kilometres long and almost heaven on a motorbike!
At Dorrigo, where we'd planned to meet up with K Freak, RT and Ulrich, we discovered the cafe that houses the 'World's Smallest Motorbike Museum'. Juan, the diminutive, funny and eccentric owner of the place is from Argentina and has some interesting machines inside and motorbike memorabilia. He appears to enjoy flirting with the women, and was persistent with one in particular around our table. Maybe it's that Latin lover stereotype going on. I'm gunna call him Rico Suave! He was reluctant to give up the cup of coffee Charlie had ordered and Blakey urgently required. Really though, he's seems a harmless and funny bloke. One of the bikes is the amazing Big Ned with its V-twin 3000cc driveline. It was built by the same local bloke who'd home-built the drag bike in the museum thirty years earlier and had a Ned Kelly tin armour theme to it. It is truly incredible and worth a squiz at. Someone who said he'd heard it running said it rumbles the earth as it idles. Dunno if it's actually ridable but I'd give it a go.
Big Ned. Says it all.
A poster highlighting Big Ned and the owner/builder, a local from Dorrigo.
The all home-built V-twin, fuel injected drag bike.
Check out those massive aluminium cylinders and exposed chains with what looked to be rotary valve operation!
The clutch coupling to the twin chain drives to the massive back tyre. It was a rare and finely detailed machine.
The easterly view from the Dorrigo National Park treetop walk.
With a quick bit of tucker and coffee in our bellies we rode down the smooth, twisting road, past several waterfalls, after a quick stop at Dorrigo NP and the treetop walk, then on to Bellingen, Urunga and the Ocean View Hotel. Settled into our rooms we met up with the rest of the mob and got right into it with many beers all round and large plates of (ok) pub food. These guys are great people who can tell a joke and take the piss out of sacred things we all take too seriously! My face muscles hurt at the end of the night.
The ubiquitous Aussie pub food of Chicken Parma and a passable plate of Fettucine.
The publican allows the bikes to be placed right out the back safe and just below our rooms on pavers. What a great combo of colour!
At the end of the day I'd added up that we rode a total of 575 easy kilometres from home north of Brisbane to Urunga. The bikes all ran as expected and no police issued any unwanted prizes for above the limit velocities achieved! But man did it bucket down with rain on the way home. We stuck to the Pacific Highway, stopped at Brunswick Heads for a dry out and a nibble, then made our way in the darkness towards home. I personally recommend the rest of you forum members get a move on and do your own informal gathering. Perhaps in time we can make it an international event. I'm game.