The Plan: Leave the Indian Ocean behind, nip across the Nullarbor, have a couple of ferry rides across the mighty Murray River, cruise through the Coorong in South Australia, then whip over to Phillip Island via the Queenscliffe/Sorrento Ferry. Slide blissfully through as many winding mountains passes as possible through the Victorian High Country. Pop into Canberra for a little culture at the National Art Gallery. Zig-zag over to the crest of Morton National Park to take in the Pacific Ocean, obey gravity all the way down to Nowra, then slip up to Royal National Park. Back down the coast and over to camp at Lake Jindabyne, and track the Murray River Hydro Scheme over to Wodonga. Phillip Island next, then back home via Great Ocean Road and the Coorong. Pause casually at as many spectacular Australian locations as possible as we meander back to the Great Australian Bight, Nullarbor and lastly home...
You know, there aren’t too many things that you can control when you’re on tour... the least of which is the weather and fate, and I just want to say, both were exceedingly kind to us... again. Unwittingly, we decided on the period around the Easter school holidays.
As we were to discover, the Snowy Mountain High Country actually experiences a proper autumn around Easter. The actual intent of the journey was a challenge thrown forward by fellow Beemer Angela when she rode across the Nullarbor from Phillip Island last year. My girl had a desire to do the same on her latest acquisition, a beautiful 2002 R1150 GS with 115,000 km on the clock. This was to be a challenge for woman and machine…
To deal with the time constraints of riding 10,000+ km in the 2 weeks of school holidays, our old mate McFarkle volunteered to jump on a plane and arrived in Perth a week prior to Easter. He and I charged-off across Australia on said R1150 GS and my trusty R1200 GSA early on Saturday morning. The target was Phillip Island by the following Wednesday. My girl and her German cousin Jan would join us from the Melbourne Airport on Easter Friday morning.
Departing Perth via Coolgardie for our first sleep, Fraser Range, I didn’t really want to test the new (to us) 2002 R1150 GS (with 115,000 km) on the all-dirt Hyden-Norseman Road just yet. After all, the actual kilometre benefit, contrary to popular belief, is only 89 km, 833 km via Coolgardie versus 751 km via Hyden. However, as previously warned by Snaga, highway construction before Coolgardie would present some delays with 25 km of red dirt at 40 kph… which turned out to be true.
At dawn, without too much ado, we departed Fraser Range, only to be greeted by 120 km of pea-soup fog. This saw us dawdling along at 60 kph on the edge of the bitumen to avoid the road trains that would appear less than 40 metres away out of the mire. We just managed Penong South Australia by sun-down. An old caravan at the Caravan Park was inexpensive… and enabled us to have decent sleep and get away at sun-up again.
The next leg, as always, fits in a blast through Horrocks Pass... A cabin at the Orroroo Caravan Park was the next sleep stop. It’s only a short walk to the Orroroo Pub where the finest Thai cooking I’ve eaten in recent years is served at country prices. The Publican there is another of those real characters you only ever meet in the country... very entertaining. More blue skies...
Skirting Adelaide, we cruised the back-way down through the Barossa via Tanunda, across the Mt Lofty Ranges, zig-zagged across the Murray River three times on the ferries, enjoyed the food and coffee at the Wellington Courthouse Café and Museum, before the last crossing at Murray Bridge, then down through the Coorong to Kingston SE in South Australia for an evening of superb hospitality with one of McFarkle’s many partners-in-crime. A totally awesome day of motorcycling... fine weather all the way.
Up at ‘Sparrows’ in the morning for what was to be the hardest day of riding. Crossing into Victoria was a revelation. Across the border, the roads immediately deteriorated. It was obvious to me that Vic Roads has shares in the ‘Road Sign’ business. I’ve never seen so many road signs. The department must have exhausted a thesaurus on the number of variations of signs stating ‘Uneven Surface’. Signs bragging that Victoria has roads that are less than optimal. Speed limits that are so low that the best and safest driver would pass out with boredom. I could save Vic Roads a fortune! Simply state on a sign at the border, “Victoria only has 5 sections of smooth road. These sections will be sign-posted.” There… saved printing 25 million road signs stating “Uneven surface ahead”, “Rough surface ahead”, refer to the thesaurus for more iterations of same. This stretch of choppy country road from Casterton, Coleraine, Hamilton, Penshurst, Mortlake, to Geelong reminded me of why I sold my jet-ski. Western Australian choppy seas and rivers... almost never flat and almost always uncomfortable. The wind was blowing so hard that I could feel low temperature air blasting through who-knows-where on my helmet, up through my nasal passages and back down my throat. Very weird feeling indeed! Glad to finally make it to Torquay and sit back on the ferry across Port Phillip Bay to Queenscliff. Still some distance to go before reaching Phillip Island, and more importantly, all slow going in urban areas. But immeasurably better than battling Melbourne peak hour traffic… and pushing into that head wind. Finally pulled up at Rhyll, weary and ready for a large dose of Mrs McFarkle’s fine cuisine, and sleep...
Thursday was maintenance and motorcycle preparation day. New Anakee 3 tyres were swapped onto the R1150 GS. The Anakee 2 tyres would be re-fitted for the 3,500 km journey across the Nullarbor back to Perth. I needed the 1150 to have good rubber for my girl to safely drag her boots through corners on the winding alpine roads ahead of us. Engine oil and filters, gearbox oil, and a close inspection to ensure safe riding.
It’s the right time in the story to point out the folly of leaning on the handle of the floor jack that is holding up your wife’s ‘wheel-less’ GS. You could only appreciate the slow, graceful glide to the ground by the 250 kg machine if you were there… and being caught on camera by heartless by-standers who had no intention of helping until evidence of said folly was preserved… It’s also a reminder that when you’re thinking to yourself, “I probably shouldn’t be doing this today’, maybe that’s your gut telling you ‘Don’t do this!’
It’s Friday morning, and the rest of my crew had arrived. Cousin Jan had hired a brand new BMW 650 Sertao complete with touring gear and motorcycle safety gear for 10 days. My girl and her motorcycle are ready to go. All that’s left is a tour around the beautiful Phillip Island, Cowes, a haircut (it’s an attraction, believe me), The Nobbies, surf beaches, the awesome seas of Bass Straight crashing onto the southern cliffs, the Phillip Island variety of kangaroos in the wild, onto the Grand Prix Motor-Racing circuit, followed up by more food, beer and wine, and laughter. And the best is yet to come… It gets better! I keep pinching myself, hoping I don’t wake up from this dream...
Saturday, we four head north. Stopping only to enjoy ginger cake and tea with the now famous ‘McFarkle’s Mum’. Back on the road riding past picturesque coal fired power stations, then upwards onto the Great Alpine Road, to rendezvous with old friends, Ken and Toni to Omeo...
That’s it for Part 1, you’ll have to wait for Part 2 to see what happens next... That’s a story of colour, mountains, twisty alpine roads, storms, a broken motorcycle, the Pacific Ocean and more motorcycle porn than the average human can handle. But most of all, it’s about good people. Contrary to what’s popularised by our modern media, the world is full of good people. Get out there yourself, you’ll meet them everywhere...
