Brrr 2 , The run home
Sunday morning and we woke to the sun shining through the windows of the cabin. Hmmmm…. That’s odd. It’s nearly winter and the sun’s up already? Yep, you guessed it. Despite the best laid plans of an early departure, we’d unanimously slept in badly, putting us behind the eight ball from the word go. Geoff was up and running quickly, though, gathering up the gear required for the morning fry-up before we decamped. I, on the other hand, am generally a bit more sluggish first thing so eventually, under the expert instructions from Michelle, I trundled over to the communal kitchen with some more much needed items for brekkie. I’d missed the previous morning’s offerings by my late arrival, though there had been rave reviews from all attendees about the digs presented then. I was not disappointed. A hearty array of bacon, eggs, sausages, baked beans and toast supplemented by copious amounts of coffee served to charge me up nicely for the commencement of the days travel. Well done Michelle and Geoff! I’m going camping with you guys forever more.
Dishes quickly done, Geoff and I went back to the cabin to grab the rest of the gear and pack the bikes . Investigative surgery the prior afternoon had established that the ballast unit for his HID headlight was, in fact, toast, so he would be making this trip without a headlight till a H4 bulb could be acquired and retrofitted by bypassing the HID loom. My fault. I talked him into fitting the thing but at least I’d worked out the fix for this situation in advance. So the plan was to run as long as we could in daylight, maybe picking up a bulb at a servo and, if timely, fitting it while having lunch or a similar longish break.
Bikes all packed so we rolled around to the Xsive carpark to fetch Bryan and say our goodbyes to everyone. Typically, my bike which had been running faultlessly decided to run out of fuel while waiting for Bryan to mount, so was doing the shake, rattle clunk thing most unbecoming the finely engineered and maintained machine that it is. Quickly fumbled for reserve and tried to get moving through the carpark to allow the bike (and myself) to regain its composure in the company of the other much smoother running bikes in the lot. By the time I reached the end of the camp and turned around, fuel had finally reached the carbs and the bike had begun to run normally again, so I once again formed up behind Bryan and Geoff and signalled that I was good to go.
Last goodbyes given, we rolled out of the carpark and headed for the fine town cntre of Bourke for the last time. Quick stop for fuel and pics then headed out running east for the first time. Bryan set a quick pace out front obviously wanting to get this finished ASAP so Geoff and I just tagged along behind him tyring to avoid the potholes and ruts which peppered this stretch of road. Lots of birdlife to be seen but all of it was at a safe distance from the trio of bikes. Made it to Brewarrina in a timely manner where Geoff and I fuelled up while Bryan cheerfully extolled the virtues of his “G” and the range that it was capable of. He wasn’t wrong, of course. It does seem a bit silly to have a bike with the performance of a 1100R with a trifling 15 litre tank in the vast expanses of Australia so Geoff and myself are going to fit up our big tanks for the next trip like this. It’ll make life a bit less of a worry on that front.
Departed for Walgett and Bryan once again led the charge out front while Geoff and I both decided to take it a bit steadier this time and trundled along at a still brisk pace, with Geoff two-up and myself dragging the keg along, just to be slightly more relaxed. We did catch Bryan some way along, who’d decided to have a bit of a spell and wait for us (bit lonely??) then chimed in to take some video footage of the bikes as we approached Walgett. He reckons I’ve got to see his vids, as my trailer was displaying some remarkable handling traits over the bumpy bits. Might have something to do with the fact that the axle, hubs, brakes & wheels assembly outweighs the body and frame by a fair bit. Bryan said it would make for a good washing machine while out camping.Maybe a bigger wing required to settle it down a bit??
Pulled into the BP servo where I was stuck (not!) on the way down and I showed the others the scenario. Very amusing now I look back on it, but not at the time. Fuelled up and we pushed the bikes out for some snaps and a further ride discussion. As it was, Bryan was going up to St. George to see his brother, but Geoff and I both had to be back for work on Tuesday. Myself to start at midnight Monday night, and Geoff in the morning. A quick look at the map showed that to go with Bryan meant heading northwest a ways which would make the trip a fair bit longer, so after a bit of discussion, it was decided that Geoff and I would head back the shortest way, and Bryan could head forth at his own pace for points unknown (to us). A few more snaps were taken for posterity then farewells bade and we set off together for the last time. A short ride up the Castlereagh highway where we turned off towards Collarenebri while Bryan plied on towards Lightning Ridge. Wasn’t too sad. We’ll be meeting him again in a few months at the Concours, so only a little time between drinks, so to speak.
^ Fuel stop at the BP Walgett
The road to the Coll was quite smooth comparatively so some time could be spent checking the scenery (short glimpses for safety’s sake) and also did some on the fly speedo comparisons for the record. When we pulled up for fuel, it was revealed that Geoffs speedo had some variations dependent on the road surface travelled to further looking into will be done before it costs him some points and $$$$$. He also told me to check my engine oil as he could smell it while following my bike down the highway. Got a bit of a shock when nothing appeared in the sight glass and it took 1.5 litres to get it back where it should have been. That was odd. It only used ½ litre for the entire trip down, but had chewed / lost 1.5 litres in only about. 400 klms! There were some oil spots on the trailer and an oily mark behind the barrels to verify this. I had to keep an eye on this from now on.
We headed out for Moree and we were now right in the middle of cotton country. If a device could be made to pick up all the tufts of cotton strewn along the road edges, you could make a good living as the stuff was everywhere. Interesting to note that the cotton is now compressed into round bales instead of the old rectangular ones. Mind you, they’re about 10 feet in diameter so they are pretty big units we’re dealing with. A side benefit is that the growers only need about ¼ of the workers to operate these machines so it’s good news for the growers (who can afford the new machines) and bad for the workers, at least the ones now out of work. Other interesting thing I saw was that the semis had hungry trays fitted. Everyone knows about hungry boards where the tiptrucks body has higher sides fitted to increase the volume in the tray, but these were extensions on the back of a road trains “B” trailer about 1 metre long to allow one more bale of cotton to be carried. Dunno how legal that is, but they’re all doing it. I’ll probably be corrected by Steptoe when he reads this as he’s the truckie and he’d know for sure. That’s just my uninformed observation.
Had a near run in with three emus who’d decided to try to spoil our day, but we got past them before they could reach the roadside. Funny point here is that they will stand still while a road train barrels past them, but a motorcycle coming towards them sends them bezerk. Go figure?
Moree fuel stop and another litre of oil. More oil spots on the trailer and a definite leak from the base gasket area. More worry for me. We’d been running at a more relaxed pace since Bryan left us, and I’d expected the leak to ease somewhat, but, NO, it hadn’t. Lunch at KFC. City centre was cut in two by road works which makes navigation interesting but Steptoe knew his way around this obstacle.
The run to Boggabilla was ok with the road surface appreciably smoother than the previous stint so we could relax more and just go with the flow. Lots more traffic now. Boggabilla saw Geoff stripping off the fairing to fit a headlight bulb while I added more oil to my motor. The sun would soon be setting and Geoff had stated that he wasn’t going to do any travelling at night, headlight or not, so we got his fairing refitted and set off. Inglewood was the goal for him and Michelle. A quick whiz through/ past Goondiwindi and into the evening sky we went. The full moon crested the horizon at one point and it would’ve made a fantastic photo, but we were on a mission now so pressed on. Sundown came and the light faded quickly so Geoff waved me past so he could sit on my six and just follow me. I really hate riding at twilight, when your lights have no effect but all the wildlife starts to come out to play. Saw a number of smallish greys on the verge, but they were well behaved and stayed there. Got fully dark quickly and with Geoff tucked in behind the trailer, clicked myself into pathfinder mode, flicked on high beam and set about getting them to Inglewood safely. Bugs really bad now, but mostly only small ones that blew off the visor if you twisted your head to the side, so they were a nuisance but not covering my helmet in muck.
Finally rolled into the servo at Inglewood where we were greeted at the bowsers by some riders that had come down from the north advising us that there was a lot of roo activity ahead and to take care. Thanked them for the news, fuelled up, added more oil, then Geoff set about finding a motel room for them to hunker down in for the night. Got lucky at the first one and after establishing that they were set for the night, said my goodbyes and headed for home.
^ Geoff and Michelle at Inglewood servo
From this point, as the speed limit had dropped from 110 to 100kph, I decided to revert back to my usual touring pace of a dollar eight as I didn’t want to get any nasty financial surprises on the way home. We had been sitting on a minimum of 120 coming from Bourke with some bursts into the 150 mark so it really was backing it off substantially. Lots of furry fellas on the side of the road but still no moments. Quite a few dead ones on the road though so more care taken here. Crested one rise to be greeted by the sight of 3 roo carcases across the road so I picked a path between them. The bike made it, but the trailer must’ve hooked one up in the left brake and I felt it drag for someways down the road before it dropped off. I’ll have some cleaning to do when I get home alright.
Warwick came up surprisingly quickly just after that and fuelled up (no oil) and after a quick feed, I anticipated that I might make it to Brisvegas in time for a cuppa at my sons place. Was advised by the nice lady at the counter that it was 5 degrees at the moment heading for a low of 2 so I grabbed an extra skivvy to beef up my insulation properties a bit. Got followed out of town by a chap on a non- metric cruiser (you know what I’m talking about here) who shadowed me till an overtaking lane just short of Cunninham’s Gap where he drew alongside, shot me a look and accelerated past with an air of distain and a blast of noise from his over loud pipes (Can’t call that sound a note!) Interestingly, he only went quick for a short distance then just stayed ahead accelerating every time he came to a rise so I could enjoy the sound of his bike. I’m planning on earplugs too for the next trip, not for the wind noise, but for that sort of noise. This continued to the top of the range, though he wasn’t quite so aggressive with the throttle through here. As the steep descent warning signs appeared at the crest, he dropped a gear, then another, like he was ready to launch off down into the abyss but …. nothing happened. He rounded that first bend at the crest at 40kph and stayed at that speed till the next bend where he slowed further. What the!! At the first passing lane, I came alongside and gave him a long look, a lot longer than the one he’d given me earlier, saw his face in the glow from my headlight, shook my head and roared off into the next bend. I couldn’t even see the glow of his headlight in my mirrors on the next straight bit so I dismissed him and his bike as a joke and enjoyed the run to the bottom of the range. As Geoff can attest to, this trailer is no handicap in the twisties at all. I was just mindful that I no longer had the brakes to stop it quite as well.
Rolled straight through Aratula and glanced over at the pub on the way past. Yep. One car in the carpark. Business as usual, I guess. Last time I was here, it was “Bikes Thru a Bar” day where we had 1293 bikes, 7 trikes, 2 sidecars and one bike with a keg (guess who?) set a record by riding through the public bar. We then stayed on to party through the night. The town made more than a years normal profits in that one day. Now it’s back to normal. Empty.
Back to this ride, now.
Was quite a novelty to actually ride through a town without refuelling. First time in this return leg of the trip. I do suppose they’re a lot closer together here which stands to reason. Stopped in at the Willowbank roadhouse where the driver reviver was still open. A quick time check confirmed that coffee at my sons place may not be as welcomed as at a more respectable hour so here I was with over 4 hours worth of riding to go, decided to have an extended stop here to reset the head and stretch the bod somewhat. Nice chap serving coffee used to have bikes back in the day, so a good chat ensued during which I saw the twinkle of recollection come into his eyes as he spoke. He still had very fond memories of his time on bikes and he seemed to really enjoy telling his tale to someone who wanted to hear his story and by the time it came for me to leave, he was positively beaming.
Filled the tank and ready to refill the oil again but not needed. Sight glass still shows at the full mark. OK, this is going to be ok after all. So I headed for the big smoke. I was thinking about this oil scenario for a while and the only thing I can come up with is the fact that at higher sustained speeds, my extremely well and truly run in motor may be creating so much blow-by that it overcomes the crankcase breather and pressurises the crankcase making it leak oil out at its weakest points. Subsequent investigation shows that it was leaking out of the base gasket area, the camchain tensioner, and there was signs of weeping from the cambox end plugs, but since a wash, all leakage had stopped, which points back to my theory. Next break from work, I’ll check the airbox breather to make sure it’s not blocked up.
Anyways, got through Brisbane unscathed and North towards Gympie. Still a lot of traffic on the road, but I’m careful to stay clear of any cars that may be wanting to change lanes to overtake. I’ve nearly had the trailer run into a number of times on dual carriageways where a car has gone to cut in behind me only to discover that there’s a trailer sitting there, not empty space, so some LED lights on the wing is a definite “must fit” for future peace of mind in these instances.
Temperature dropping further still now and I decide to adopt another layer at the next stop. The Golden Nugget was the intended target and man, do they make a great coffee there! I had 2 mugs in a short period which revitalised me heaps, in between me slipping out to fit the extra layers of woolly stuff under the leathers and refuelling. No oil required again. My theory may be sound after all. This is much better, I thought, as I rolled out for the last section of the trip. It’s amazing how much more comfortable the seat was with a pair of trackpants under the jeans under the leathers, and with the 2 t-shirts, 1 skivvy, and 1 jumper under my alpine dri-rider jacket, I was cosy as, except for my hands which weren’t doing too bad, I could still feel my fingers, and my feet where the steel caps in my boots felt like mini freezer compartments. But overall, doing ok.
^ What should've been the last stop - Golden nugget, Gympie. Does it look cold in this pic, cos it was!
What should’ve been the final stint turned into two, with a loo stop being mandated by Hwmbo at the Maryborough Matilda. Bloody coffee! But it WAS nice and warmed me considerably.
Ok, final stop and the bladder emptied, tank filled, oil checked and visor cleaned, I set off for home. Navigated the horrible pothole patch from the Mary River Bridge north to the inspection station, then casually tagged on behind an “upside down transport” semi (did I say that?) and watched the milemarkers (what are they called since metrification?) count down to Childers. Last indicator to turn off highway and up hill, cross tram tracks then left (no indicator. I’m a rebel) then Idled down the hill and quietly pulled into Neriels shed awning then switched off for the last time.
Tried to sneak quietly into the house but Al put paid to that plan. Now Neriel was awake, hugs & kisses then coffee and a chat followed by a steaming hot shower (we’ve still got an old school hot water system) then off to bed.
^ The morning after shot
In a Nutshell: total distance return trip – 1300klms exactly
Oil used return trip – 3. 7 litres – gasp!
Fuel used return trip – lots, but expected.
Departure time - roughly 915am
Arrival time - around 3.20 am
I could've made the trip in a shorter time, but I'd rather take my time,have lots of breaks to freshen up. It's much more enjoyable this way
Bloody loved it! Can’t wait till next year! See y’all then!
BTW, since the trip, there are no oil leaks and oil usage is back to where it was normally, so I’m a happy traveller!
Post mortem pics -
^ Oil visibly pooling on the cases LHS. - Looks scary, but Ok now
^ Oil stain very evident in this pic.
^ Obviously leaking out the back of the bike, badly
^ It was really rough out there in places. This shot was taken after unloading. Note the scuffed paint from the hatch rubbing to & fro, and the completely dislodged rubber seal. The rest survived ok.
All better now!
