November 18, 2012
It's been a long time since the last update and in that time life has been forging its path through my efforts to have a good time and ride my motorbike. Since the last update, there have been two Breakfast Torques at Loftus, a trip to Port Macquarie, a trip to Krambach (near Gloucester) and many day trips around Picton, the Southland Highlands and Wollongong. Of course, that is reducing the last 12 months of my life to the times spent on a motorcycle. I am sparing you the drab dreary bits that fill in the gaps. No, immediate family members, you are not the drab and dreary bits, you are what makes it all worthwhile?
So what has prompted this return to the keyboard I hear you ask? Well, about a month ago I organised to have a week off from work, just thinking I would have a break before Christmas, as it has been a torrid time of late. Having booked the week with no plans whatsoever, I met a fellow down at Stanwell Tops one Sunday afternoon, on no other pretext other than he was riding a Triumph as well, who started to tell me about his trips down to Wagga Wagga on his bike, and in particular, his love of the road from Crookwell to Boorowa. This made me envious to begin with and then thoughtful. The long distance ride sounded like a great idea and I had a week off coming up very soon. I immediately got out a map and started planning. When I mentioned this to my wife, she decided she would visit her cousin outside Guerie (between Wellington and Dubbo) for a night and I could meet her there. So here we go.
Monday 5th November 2012
Sydney Goulbourn Crookwell Boorowa Cowra
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| Thunderbird - Fully loaded |
The week off finally arrived. I spent Sunday packing and getting prepared. The bike had had its 30,000 km service 2 weeks before so I was happy that it was in good shape. I had recently purchased a cradle for my iPhone which propped it up on the handlebars, and with the addition of the Tom Tom GPS app and some Bluetooth connected speakers in my helmet, I had a fully operational gps Ready to guide me to where ever I chose.
I left Sydney at 8.30 am and headed straight down the Princes Highway. I stopped at Berrima and had breakfast at the Magpie Cafe. An establishment I have visited quite a few times over the years. Poached eggs with a mild, creamy curry sauce on toasted Turkish bread with wilted spinach and bacon on the side, coffee and fresh squeezed orange juice and I was ready for some serious cycling.
The freeway to Goulburn was very boring as usual and seemed to take forever. But once in Goulburn I turned off the highway and took the the smaller road to Crookwell. That's when the trip came to life and I began to really enjoy the ride. A wonderful road into Crookwell. Rolling hills, sweeping corners, beautiful scenery and very little traffic. Motorcycle heaven.
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| Wind farm outside Crookwell |
Crookwell is a lovely old town and I was surprised to find a choice of coffee shops. Having grown up in a small country town, I considered them places to be strictly avoided for most of my life. But now I am beginning to appreciate the beauty of small country towns and I can't get enough of them.
In April, my wife and I drove out to Hay. This is something we have done many, many times before. But this year was the first time for 21 years that we have done it without children. And we went a different way than usual. Turning off the highway and going through a number of small country towns that we don't normally see. And, more importantly, not being rushed or nagged by children in the back seat. We had a great trip and it reminded me that I really do enjoy seeing country towns.
So this trip was planned to pass through a lot of towns that I have been hearing about for my entire life, but have never seen before. Crookwell was the first. And riding into Crookwell, I was struck by the similarity between all of these country towns that originated in the mid to late nineteenth century. The pubs, the rows of old buildings accommodating multiple small shop fronts that you know have been through many incarnations in there 100 or so years of life. The post office, the court house and the police stations. All so similar, but at the same time, every town unique. And suddenly I find that I don’t think I will ever tire of entering a small country town for the first time.
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| Crookwell |
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| Crookwell |
Coffee, petrol and a few photos in Crookwell and it was time to tackle that road from Crookwell to Boorowa that had inspired me.
It is about 80k in length and the first section, to a small town called Rugby, seems to have no discernible speed limit. No signs to be found. Even the GPS which insists on telling me the speed limit, and when I exceed it, had nothing to say on the subject. In an effort to maintain a semblance of law and order, I decided I should make up a speed limit, which I did, and I stuck to it religiously. Although I did have to slow down considerably on the bends.
More winding bends over rolling hills. A smaller road with a few rough spots and a section of tight twists, but overall a very good ride and highly recommended.
Riding in to Boorowa was a touch of déjà vu. Another similar but unique, small, country town.
My friend Richard, the gourmet historian, and his wife Hannah, had suggested I call in on Hannah's mother who lives in Boorowa. Thank you to Diane and Simon for coffee, the delicious walnut cake and a tour of your beautiful house. I was also able to drop in on an old school friend from Boorowa who is now a real estate agent.
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| Boorowa |
On to Cowra. A beautiful road in great condition that I continuously found myself going to fast on, because it was easy. I reached Cowra about 3pm, found a motel and checked in. Cowra was the scene of a prisoner of war camp during the Second World War, the only other camp I know of apart from Hay. It was something the two towns had always had in common, in my mind anyway. I was keen to see what survived. Cowra POW camp was the scene of a mass breakout attempt by Japanese POWs in which several hundred were killed and I was keen to see how the town remembered the event.
The first stop was the Japanese Gardens. Designed by a famous Japanese designer and covering 12 acres of land, the gardens are magnificent. Beautiful walkways through manicured trees, shrubs and ponds full of ducks and koi carp. A beautiful place with many plaques commemorating donations from both Australian and Japanese organisations. Next to the gardens is the site of the POW camp where the breakout took place. There is not much left. A few foundations and some story boards telling the history. There is also a large Japanese war cemetery containing the graves of all those killed during the breakout attempt. I think the town has done a very good job of remembering the past in a commemorative and peaceful way.
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| Japanese Gardens |
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| Site of the POW camp in cowra |
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| Japanese war cemetary - Cowra |
Down to a local pub for a few beers and dinner. I did notice that the pub had a sign saying that thongs were not allowed after 6pm and, looking down at my thongs, I was curious to see if they would eject their only customer at 6pm. They didn't. Dinner was tasty and filling, and they even had a few more customers show up. Everyone was happy.
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| Imperial Hotel - Cowra. No thongs after 6pm |
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| Cowra |
Tuesday 6th November 2012
Cowra Forbes Parkes Wellington Guerie
A pleasant night at Cowra. The motel was comfortable. I tossed up whether I should order breakfast at the motel or just walk down the Main Street looking for something open. I was up early enough to go for a walk before the arrival of breakfast I finally ordered. I found a coffee, but apart from a pie, the was a distinct lack of available breakfast in Cowra at 6.30am on a Tuesday morning.
There were predictions for rain in the area so I reluctantly donned the plastic pants and headed off for Forbes. A lovely ride through open country surrounded by crops. Forbes is a lovely old town and I found a coffe shop to slake the thirst. A few drops of rain welcomed me to town but nothing more eventuated from it. I saw a gentleman quite a bit older than me climbing off a Yamaha touring bike that had a tent and sleeping bag rolled up on the back. I'll have to think about that a bit, but my immediate thought is that a motel room is well worth the money.
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| Forbes |
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| Touring bike with tent and sleeping bag. Not yet. |
On to Parkes that is only 30k away. Seems ridiculously close to someone who grew up in Hay where the nearest town is an hours fast drive away. Parkes is another lovely old town. I don't think I will ever tire of riding into old towns for the first time. I only stopped long enough to reset the GPS for Wellington. I took a road called the Renshaw McGirr Way that ran diagonally from Parkes directly to Wellington. I wasn't 100% sure it was sealed all the way, but decided to take a risk. The road was fine, with very little traffic. It was a long leg, over 100 k. About halfway through I came across a couple of top knot pigeons in the middle of the road. They took off as I approached, but one of them decided to cut across in front of the bike. Unfortunately he badly misjudged my speed. The pigeon crashed in to my shin and the side of the tank. It exploded on impact. Soon after i came to a small community called Yeoville where I stopped to examine the results of the exploding bird. Not pretty.
On to Wellington where I stopped for a walk and had an apple and banana in a local park. I was meeting my wife at her cousins farm outside Guerie and I was a little early. After a good break I headed off to Guerie (between Wellington and Dubbo)and out to the farm. A lovely quiet night followed. No phone reception and no tv makes for a peaceful evening. I made the mistake of asking the cousin if there had been any snakes about. She said that there had been several, that they were huge, that her father did not like to kill them, and that it was almost impossible to keep them out of the house. I looked down at my thongs. I found it very difficult to be completely relaxed for the rest of the night.
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| Wellington |
Wednesday 7th November 2012
Guerie Dubbo Gilgandra Coonabarabran Gunnedah Tamworth
It was drizzling rain from Guerie to Dubbo so I pressed on hoping to get ahead of the rain that was heading in the same direction. A stop in Gilgandra for a late breakfast and then on to Coonabarabran. I took a detour before Coonabarabran which took me through the Warrumbungles national park. This is a place of magnificent scenery.
According to Wikipedia “The base of the region was formed 180 million years ago. At that time a lake was formed that allowed sediment to slowly compress into sandstone.[1] The Warrumbungles is the remnants of a large heavily-eroded shield volcano that was active from 13 to 17 million years ago.[2] A huge shield-shaped volcano formed as volcanic explosions occurred over millions of years.[1] The remaining complex rocky formations are what is left after millions of years of erosion. The volcano is severely dissected and originally reached a height of about 1,000 m.”
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| Warrumbungles |
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| Siding Springs |
Half way through I took a detour up to Siding Springs observatory on top of one of the peaks. Fabulous setting. And seeing the domed observatories appearing above the trees provides a wonderful juxtaposition of modern technological equipment perched in the middle of an ancient landscape.
The range gradually flattens out and you enter the outskirts of Coonabarabran. I was amazed to se half a dozen different farms that had small observatory domes in the front yard. Some had a number. One had at least six of varying sizes. I don,t know if they house working telescopes or are just a show of support, but they are quite startling as you ride past.
Coonabarabran is another lovely old town. I saw a coffee shop and pulled up beside four other motorbikes and I could see the riders gathered around a table on the footpath. They were all my age or older. They encouraged me to join them, which I did after buying a coffee. I presumed that they were on a group tour to somewhere or other until it came up in conversation that they all lived in Coonabarabran and that they came down here for coffee most mornings.
I headed on to Gunnedah. Lots of big open spaces out here, rolling hills and what looked like some very large farms along the way. The dark clouds were behind me all the way, but the sky looked a little bluer in front.
Gunnedah, another lovely old town, full of the same similarities yet different again. I found a small Asian noodle place full of very genuine looking Asian cooks and had a bite of lunch. I do start to crave Asian food when I haven't had it for a while.
The dark clouds were catching up to me so I was keen to press on to Tamworth. It was starting to get hot by this stage and if there is one thing that brings on the fatigue very quickly it is 30 degree heat in a motorcycle jacket. I reached Tamworth about 3.30 pm and by the time I found my way to the centre of the town I knew I had made a mistake. I would have been much more comfortable staying in one of the small towns either side of Tamworth. Getting around the CBD was difficult with heavy, slow traffic. I wanted to find a motel within walking distance of the centre so that I could have a wander around town. I saw a motel in the distance but I had to go around a few blocks to be on the right side of a divided road to enter it, only to realize that it had a no vacancy sign lit up. I continued in ever increasing circles until I found a Best Western a bit further out. It was a big fancy looking motel, but by now I just wanted to get off the bike and out of the gear. I went in and they only had two rooms available. I took one and finally got in. It was an up market room and I soon found myself lying in a spa, downing bottles from the mini bar and watching the incoming results of the US presidential election on the big screen. Ahhhhhhh. Not a bad way to end a long hot bike trip. I was pleased to find that the motel also had an in house restaurant as thoughts of walking down town had disolved in the spa. Dinner downstairs and then back to bed.
Thursday 8th November
Tamworth Walcha Gloucester Singleton Windsor Richmond Home.
After a nice big breakfast and paying the bill, I was off towards Walcha, north east of Tamworth. More beautiful country. At Walcha I finally turned on to Thunderbolt's Way, a road famous amongst motorbike riders. 130 Km to Gloucester. I have been hearing about this road for years and even reading about it in motorcycle magazines. It is named after a nineteenth century bushranger, Captain Thunderbolt who was active in the area.
The first 50 km or so follows wide open valleys through what looks like very isolated country with not much sign of civilization. The speed limit was 100 kph and I was traveling at about 110. It wasn't until another bike and two cars shot past me like I was standing still that I realized I was the only one not doing 140 kph. I didn't want to be the the odd one out so I joined in. I didn't catch the cars and I never saw the bike again.
Eventually the road started to climb into heavily forested mountain areas which brought the speed back to 80 kph. This is spectacular country. Every now and then you would catch a glimpse of long green valleys stretching out below. These had to be glimpses only as the riding on this road demanded full attention.
There is a fabulous lookout at the top of one of the mountains where I stopped to take some photos. Absolutely beautiful scenery.
The road then starts to descend quickly and before long I was entering the outskirts of Gloucester. I had been to Gloucester twice this year when my wife was house sitting in nearby Krambach. It was a town that had an immediate impact. Lots of “old, small, country town” charm with a backdrop of the Barrington tops range.
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| Lookout - high on thunderbolt's Way |
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| Thunderbolt's Way |
I stopped for coffee and a sandwich in Gloucester before heading down buckets way towards Stroud. I turned off before Stroud and went through Dungog and followed the back roads to Singleton. I was heading for Singleton so that I could then follow Putty road down to Sydney rather than the expressway to Hornsby and the horrible crawl through Sydney.
I reached Singleton and stopped for a breather and petrol. Realizing that I still had over 200 kilometers to home I was starting to think that maybe I had left a bit too much for the last day. Thunderbolt’s Way had taken its toll and I knew that the Putty road would also be a challenge.
The sky was still looking dark, but so far I had not had any rain. The Putty road is another road famous amongst the bike riding community and I had long been keen to ride it. 170 kilometers from Singleton to Windsor. Lots of twists and turns through beautiful forested countryside. There is very little sign of human habitation along the road. At times it is slow going, especially if you are stuck behind a slow driver, with very few overtaking opportunities. It was a very enjoyable road. It would have been even more so if I had not been tired and had my mind set and my teeth clenched to get home that afternoon.
As I approached Windsor the rain finally started to fall. Not heavy, but constant for about 20 minutes before it eased up. I had the weather gear on so it was a not a problem at all. I was thinking how well I had got through it when I hit the heavy rain. This turned out to be the edge of a severe storm that caused flooding in areas of western Sydney. For about 15 minutes it was very heavy and I was traveling very slowly, trying to see ahead through the visor and feeling the water soaking through the elbows of my jacket. I had changed into my summer gloves earlier in the day because my hands were too hot. Now they were soaked. Fortunately it was not cold.
It was still raining as I entered Windsor, but had stopped by the time I came out the other side. Fortunately I had programmed the GPS in Singleton so I had step by step instructions to get me through Windsor, off to Richmond and finally on to the M7 which took me too Liverpool.
It was afternoon peak hour now and the traffic was very heavy. Quite a downer after the long quiet country roads I had been on for the previous four days.
I finally made it home at about 6pm, tired, a bit damp, but very content with having been able to complete the trip as planned.
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| Complete trip - click to enlarge |
